Please introduce yourself and tell us what you do.
I’m Michael and when asked what I do, I might say I am an architect, which is true but I also might say I am an alpine and ice climber, or a tremendously proud father of two, or a passionate woodworker, or storyteller, or artist, or teacher, or writer, or poet or animal lover or romantic. I honestly struggle with loving so many things that in essence all define me in one way or another. ‘What I do’ is always a quandary but I guess what’s expected is to say; I am an architect.
Your work bridges innovation, sustainability, and storytelling. What first sparked your belief that architecture could be a catalyst for planetary change?
I started my career working for a wonderful international architect named Cesar Pelli designing some of the world’s tallest buildings (including the Petronas Towers in Malaysia that were for a time the world’s tallest towers) and my first airport in Washington DC. The experience was incredible, but it was also deeply misaligned with my personal life, which was rooted in the wilderness, in mountains, in woodshops with dirty hands and jeans. When I moved home to Canada, I realized it was time to bring the big ideas of architecture together with the intimate wonderous ideas that nature teaches. Mother Nature is without question the greatest innovator and she has given us incredible tools to answer our needs in harmony with our planet. So I decided to listen. And in that came new ideas of building tall buildings in wood and more types of buildings in nature’s materials. It also reminded me to innovate not just through the buildings but even in the process of explaining why our industry needs to completely change to meet the needs of climate, environment, and humanity. That’s where story comes in. Reaching the public is about connecting complex issues in accessible ways through story. That agency became an opportunity to show up for my kids by acting as a bit of a revolutionary in the industry. The revolution wasn’t about shapes of buildings or the aesthetic; it was about the meaning. Meaning was and is the hard work I love most.
Wood and bio-based materials are central to your philosophy. How do you explain the emotional or human impact of building with natural materials?
Humans haven’t evolved to love man made materials. We evolved surrounded by natural materials; wood, stone, straw, clay, wool, and plants. Only in the last few decades have we started to surround ourselves with man made materials full of chemicals, toxins, and highly intensive energy demands. Over and over the revolutionary new ‘modern’ materials have only turned out to be unhealthy to our bodies or to our planet. I believe this is why we somehow feel better when around wood and other natural materials and even planets. We know that kids learn better when surrounded by natural materials, people have less stress, they heal faster, they feel calmer. Its not a surprise; its evolutionary. A friend of mine that is a National Geographic Explorer conducted a study in a prison that showed that the amount of time someone needed to be in solitary confinement was reduced by 90% if there was photograph of a tree taped to their wall. It’s a sad reference in many ways but its also so critical to the basic reality of human need. More nature equals better societies. Its human. Its science.
You’ve explored some of the most remote places on earth. How have those experiences shaped your perspective on design, responsibility, and the way we build?
Architecture all too often is a discipline that serves the 1%. I have had the good fortune as a climber and kayaker to travel to many of the world’s most remote regions that often are also some of the least developed. I have been to about 60% of the worlds countries and seen terrible poverty and inequity. That privilege has always reminded me that I chose architecture to serve the 100% and that means reflecting that my choices here in Canada have impacts the world over, directly, and indirectly. My travels are a catalog of experiences and what I have learned is that my job is to create places for experience more than walls of buildings. I have watched that even in great poverty the human spirit is incredible and love, family and community are incredible. I have loved my projects in central Asia where I have learned more than I could ever give to the beautiful people of Tajikistan, Afghanistan and Nepal.
You often talk about architecture as a tool for healthier communities. In your view, what habits or rituals help people feel more connected to the spaces they inhabit?
Life is ritual. We choose those rituals and decide which ones are priorities. But we all tend to feel the pressure of life in a way that challenges the very core of the things we know are good for us. A healthier life is not about having more; its about loving more, about giving more, about sharing more, about making more with our hands and heart and about choosing the things that truly enrich us. For me that is nature, my kids, my animals, my friends, dirty fingernails and real work in making things. The rituals for me that work best are those that slow time. Space and design that is quiet and uncluttered but that slightly adjusts your day by design is where architecture plays a role. I see this most in Japan where ritual can be so beautiful. The act of sitting on a stool that perhaps is lower than normal to take shoes off and put slippers on shifts from a task into something that pauses our day by design. Watering a plant, filling a bowl with water for the dog, taking your watch off and placing it beside the bed. Our lives are filled with these things but when tasks are mixed with good design and a gentle pause they turn into wonder, calmness and a healthier life.
With so much of your work dedicated to climate-positive design, what personal practices help you stay grounded and inspired as life gets busy?
I guess by now you might get a sense that I quite like muddy shoes, a torn sweater, a rainy day working outside and my wet dog on the bed. I stay grounded in the mountains, on the ocean and in my work and by the knowledge that we are only here for a short time and the art of a good life is to know that you did your best to leave only footprints while loving our family, friends and planet and leaving them all somehow better than we found them.