Bird-Dogging

In my recent post 0-for-6, But Thanks For Playing, I listed six prospective projects from a year ago that all died in subsequent months and went to architecture heaven. And although scores of past projects have gone belly-up in the past 20 years, each becoming what might best be described in the words of writer/poet Andrei Codrescu as an "exquisite corpse", I've never had so many projects come and go so quickly as this list makes clear. I then blogged the question, "What could all this mean?" and reader Cara Lietuva provided one answer -- possibly the most thoughtful, wise, and articulate answer ever posted to Why Howard Laughed:

It means that architects who are self employed need to learn the art of bird-dogging. Isn't that what seeking out new projects is called? I don't think they teach this in architecture school--the art of getting work. They certainly didn't teach it in my MFA program in creative writing, but you know what? They should have. Because it's one thing to create and to know all the things involved in bringing something from idea to physical reality, but to even get the opportunity to create, whether it's a building or a published story, is often quite difficult. My professors NEVER talked about that. This is where our colleges are failing us as students and alumni--they gave us theory, they gave us how-to's, but they didn't teach us about the reality of our chosen art forms: how to get work, how to maintain your creativity even in projects that don't challenge it, how to make a living, how to deal with clients/editors, how to market, how to keep records, how not to lose heart.

It's true that my own exposure in architecture school to the realities of architectural practice were woefully meager. As a matter of fact, the professor who taught a course titled "Professional Ethics and Practice" was the biggest cop-out artist on campus. He didn't try to "teach" his students so much as he "facilitated learning" -- his own words -- meaning that he believed his job description consisted of pointing the direction to the College of Architecture library, expecting us to figure out on our own the answers to the questions we barely knew enough to ask.

How do architects bird-dog projects, sign them to contracts, and then direct a team of designers, engineers, clients, builders, and governmental agencies through a multi-year design-and-build process?

"Forget it. The question's too big. I'm not even going to try to explain," the professor would have whined and evaded. "That comes with experience -- post-degree. Assuming one can even make it THAT far."

"You're on your own, kid."

I still despise that worm.