Tag Archives: FAITH

FENG SHUI AND CRYSTALS: THE ART OF INTENTION

April 19, 2019

14th Shamarpa Reliquary Building, Natural Bridge, Virginia (photo by Mark Ballogg)

Feng Shui: Some call it philosophy. Some call it art or science. And some call it superstition.

Crystals: Similar thing. Like horoscopes and fortune telling, some call the supposed energy from a rock either science or fantasy.

Architecturally, Feng Shui is often referred to as the art of placement. And the use of crystals, gemstones and geodes in architectural design can contribute in various ways to the experience of a room. For both Feng Shui and crystals, I call it the art of intention.

Citrine Geode, sold at Mystic Journey Crystals, Venice, California (photo from mysticjourneycrystals.com)
Escena Garden Residence, Palm Springs, California, by Poon Design (photo by Lance Gerber)

A Chinese philosophy dating back to 4000 BC, Feng Shui explores an enigmatic life force called Chi, and how it can bring harmony to one’s existence. With harmony and balance, one is then supported to achieve all that one wishes for, from love to wealth, from fame to health. (Yes, in Star Wars, Chi is simply called “The Force.”)

Though the study of Feng Shui includes numerology, symbolism, and blessing ceremonies—just to name a few—most people know primarily of Feng Shui’s influence on the physical world, mostly interior design. Through the careful placement of furniture, curated pieces of décor, or the arrangement of walls, doors, windows and mirrors—the Chi can flourish, and in turn, dissipate negative energy.

Handful of precious gems: Bloodstone, White Quartz, Garnet, Flourite, and Pyrite (photo by Anthony Poon)

In similar ways, some believe that certain types of colorful crystals deliver attributes that will benefit your existence. For example, Amethyst provides relaxation, whereas Aventurine offers confidence. Citrine clears negative energy, and Rose Quartz delivers love—perhaps. Clients of architecture purchase crystals of all sizes, from preciously tiny gems that gently rests in one’s palm, to a feature stone gracing an office lobby.

White Quartz, sold at Mystic Journey Crystals, Venice, California (photo from mysticjourneycrystals.com)

Akin to the long history of Feng Shui, stories of crystals date back to the Ancient Egyptians and Greeks. Feng Shui and crystals have much in common in the form of healing. Through a Feng Shui reading of a house, I found problem areas, such as an incorrectly located back door that will drain the Chi from an important corner of the home: the marriage area. The Chinese philosophy then offers “cures” for the compromised architectural design, such as suspending a crystal in the troubled area, which will bring positive energy. Feng Shui goes further: The length of the string that suspends needs to be in a multiple of five or nine, as in 5, 10 or 18 inches. Lucky numbers.

Buddhist Temple, Natural Bridge, Virginia (photo by Mark Ballogg)

As a certified Feng Shui professional and a member of the International Feng Shui Guild, I do realize how skeptics would say all this is hocus-pocus, an absurd set of rules and beliefs. Like with crystals, how Bloodstone will bring vitality, and Pyrite will result in wealth.

Brazilian blue marble at my house, Roberto Residence, Bel Air, California (photo by Anthony Poon)

But if all this is nothing more than smoke and mirrors, nothing more than hippie astrology, why do so many people believe in such supernatural forces? And why does it actually seem to work?

It is simply because of one thing: intention. You could also call it faith. If we believe that a crystal or a wind chime will bring us prosperity, then perhaps the intention is enough. Is it so different than the baseball player who has his lucky glove? Or perhaps, a beautiful crystal glowing with rainbow beams of light simply makes us smile. And it is this smile that makes our day a good one.

“WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE”

July 14, 2017

Crowds gathering for the public reviews and professor critiques of student project, Wurster Hall, University of California, Berkeley (photo from ced.berkeley.edu)

Late 80’s, College of Environmental Design, University of California, Berkeley. This public review of my studio project concludes my undergraduate studies. The class assignment: design a hypothetical church on the banks of Lake Merritt, Oakland. Analogies of good vs. evil, discussions about faith, designs representing religion, etc. saddled every student’s work.

More than an academic exercise for a mere letter grade, The American Institute of Architects co-sponsored our class, structuring it as a design competition. The winners’ drawings and models would become a public architectural exhibition.

Carefully balanced on two feet, I stood at the front of the class. 40 people in the audience and counting: classmates, faculty, professionals, and members of the AIA. Dauntlessly, I presented my heroic and sardonic church: a boxy concrete temple imprisoned in a giant steel frame, seven stories tall. My artistic composition equated religion to a sanctuary within a constricting cage.

Model of church project by Anthony Poon
Model of church project by Anthony Poon

I knew my idea was good. For my drawings, I created a technique that preceded computer generated images. I employed diamond tipped technical pens filled with black Indian ink, drawing on large translucent plastic sheets. On the backside, I applied adhesive color films, each layer surgically cut by hand with an X-Acto No. 11 razor blade, known for its similarity in shape to an actual surgeon’s knife.

Drawings of church project by Anthony Poon
Drawings of church project by Anthony Poon

Concluding my bold presentation and audacious metaphors, I beamed a self-assured smile.

My professor, Lars Lerup, was already revved up. He lambasted my design, hurling bombastic criticism at my “sad attempt to understand the meaning of architecture and the sublime.” The professor’s assault was both self-servingly theatrical and pretentiously dogmatic. For twenty minutes, not stopping for a single breath, Lerup was clearly on the offensive against a foolish student. As Lerup’s back-up dancers, the faculty seated with my professor propped him up with their complete silence.

Tired from the past sleepless nights, I didn’t mind too much. Perhaps I knew my work was good. Or maybe I just didn’t care because I was soon to graduate.

Design studios, Wurster hall, photo by ced.berkeley.edu
Design studios, Wurster Hall, (photo from ced.berkeley.edu)

My professor glared at me for any kind of reaction, any kind of acknowledgement that I was learning at his world class institution. Not responding, I stood there smiling politely. Carefully balanced on two feet.

He would not, could not stand for this, as his shrieking reached an all-time high in melodrama, and an all-time low in appropriateness from an educator towards his student.

In session, a public review of a student project, Wurster Hall, photo by guide.berkeley.edu
In session, a public review of a student project, Wurster Hall (photo from guide.berkeley.edu)

The professor shouted, “Anthony, why are you smiling?! I want you to WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE! Or I will do it for you!!”

Continuing this tirade for a few more minutes, Lerup eventually lost steam against an opponent that was not interested in being his opponent. And then, it was over. I jigged and hopped out of Wurster Hall.

The looming Wurster Hall, College of Environmental Design, prime example of the Brutalist movement from 1950 to 1970, completed in 1964, designed by Joseph Esherick, photo by Falcorian
The looming Wurster Hall, College of Environmental Design, prime example of the Brutalist movement from 1950 to 1970, completed in 1964, designed by Joseph Esherick (photo by Falcorian)

EPILOGUE: The American Institute of Architects selected me as one of the competition winners. I also graduated with High Honors, Magna Cum Laude. As I said, I knew my work was good.

OUTRO: I ran into Lars Lerup in New York a year later, and that my friends was an even more outrageous story. More another day.

EMBRACING THE HUMAN SPIRIT

September 24, 2015

National September 11 Memorial, New York, New York, by Michael Arad with PWP Landscape Architecture (photo by PWP Landscape Architecture)

Upon returning from the 9/11 Memorial in New York City, a colleague stated that she found the design dismal. I responded, “Maybe that is the point.”

The National September 11 Memorial & Museum is not exultant. It does not elate. As commemoration, the architecture honors the lives lost through acknowledging grief and pain. Through such, comes healing and the succinct message, “Never forget.”

In the mainstream of TV shows and magazines, architecture is merely thought of as designing homes. And indeed, architecture is a house.

But what can it house?

Besides housing families, architecture can collect memories, it can store beliefs, and it can sustain faith.

Chapel for the Air Force Village, San Antonio, Texas, by Poon Design (rendering by Amaya)
Chapel for the Air Force Village, San Antonio, Texas, by Poon Design (rendering by Amaya)

Whether the design of memorials or sacred structures such as shrines and temples, the architecture of spirituality informs. It influences and guides. Such architecture can be a celebration enlivening the human spirit, or it can be solemn, confronting the human spirit.

Here, when I speak of religion, I am referring to a belief system that might be a private personal agenda or a structured practice of an organization’s ethics. The architecture of religion then, offers spaces that contain an individual’s creed or a community’s doctrines. The resulting forms and materials from such architecture express conviction and devotion.

top: Holocaust and Human Rights Center, University of Maine at Augusta; bottom: River of Life Christian Church, Santa Clara, California, by Poon Design (renderings by Amaya)
top: Holocaust and Human Rights Center, University of Maine at Augusta; bottom: River of Life Christian Church, Santa Clara, California, by Poon Design (renderings by Amaya)

The design of a church for example can be flooded with natural light to express the revelry of faith. On the other hand, a church can be intentionally dark and somber, so as to make any form of light, say a single small sun beam, apparent and dramatic—representing the presence of a holy deity.

I previously wrote about my many years serving Buddhists as their select architect. For their national foundation, I designed places to worship and study, to retreat and meditate, and to gather and connect.

Contraband & Freedmen’s Cemetery and Memorial, Alexandria, Virginia, by Poon Design (rendering by Zemplinski)
Contraband & Freedmen’s Cemetery and Memorial, Alexandria, Virginia, by Poon Design (rendering by Zemplinski)

Poon Design has created spiritual spaces of all kinds. Just to name a few: a 140,000-square-foot manufacturing plant transformed into a church in California, a Holocaust and Human Rights library in Maine, and a cemetery and memorial park for the freed slaves in Virginia. Our other projects of remembrance include 9/11 in California, AIDS victims in Florida, and the celebration of Martin Luther King Jr. in Washington, D.C.

Whether a chapel designed for a retirement community of the Air Force in Texas, or a Massachusetts memorial designed for the victims of the Holocaust, my architecture can be engaged individually and intimately, or publicly and as a society.

Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial, Washington, D.C., by Poon Design
Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial, Washington, D.C., by Poon Design
© Poon Design Inc.