Tag Archives: INTERVIEW

#212: THE INTERVIEW | READING THE ROOM

September 26, 2025

(Image by Mohamed Hassan, Pixabay)

A contemporary phrase often recommended is, “Read the room.” In business, everyone is required to have skills of observation and deduction, as well as awareness, both in general and self. But this is also required–whether a corporate boss or high school teacher, a police officer or nurse, with family or friends. In life, it is imperative to understand a setting or situation, whether professional or social.

(Photo by Vlado Paunovic, Unsplash)

Years ago, I heard about two architects competing for a big project: a high-end residential estate in New York. During the interview, Architect A presented an in-depth process of getting to know the client and designing specifically for the client’s needs. Architect A discussed how he would learn every aspect of the client’s existence, from family member idiosyncrasies to Thanksgiving parties, from in-law visits to number of pets, from how they cook to recreational activities. Architect A boasted about “living and breathing” this client to ensure a successful architectural design.

When Architect B presented, he simply said to the potential client: You will see me three times.

1) When I visit your property,
2) When I present my design, and
3) When I give you the keys to your new home!

(Image by Mohamed Hassan, Pixabay)

As thoughtful as Architect A sounded, the client found him overwhelming, even invasive. Architect B made the process sound easy, and he won the job.

(Photo by Luis Quintero, Pexels)

Another example: For a new theater in Los Angeles, I heard about two architectural companies competing. For the interview, Company 1 presented a collaborative process, showing various diagrammatic options in sketches and physical models, asking the client investigative questions, even eliciting hands-on participation from the client with markers and paper. This inviting roll-up-your-sleeves approach gave a preview of how the design process might proceed if Company 1 was hired.

In contrast, Company 2 presented a completed concept in full form: photorealistic computer renderings accompanied by a detailed physical model. There was no back-and-forth discussion between Company 2 and the client. No options or inquisitive design questions. Company 2 showed an architectural vision and in essence said, “This design is what you want!”

(Image by Kathrine Jølle Wathne, Pixabay)

As appealing as Company 1 sounded, Company 2 was hired for the job. Whether their presented design suited the client, that didn’t matter. The client was simply impressed by the commitment and enthusiasm to develop a full design. Whereas Company 1 presented a shared and friendly method of design, it was the Wow Factor from Company 2 that won the client.

(Photo by Charlesdeluvio, Unsplash)

In both examples, the client’s decision could have gone the other way. Maybe for the residential project, the client might have found Architect B glib and arrogant—and decide on Architect A for his meticulous and exploratory process. Maybe for the theater project, the client might have found Company 2 to be short sighted, as in, “Who designs an entire project without even talking to me first?” This client might have preferred Company 1 who would engage in collaboration and teamwork.

For an interview, there are many ways to present who one is, but it is about presenting how one is the right fit for the client. I discuss my interviewing secret here, but know that every interview is different. An architect’s way of working—whether analytical or improvisational, whether options-driven or one Big Idea—should not be etched in stone. Simply said, adapt to the client and the project. Make sure to read the room.

#36: THE WORLD FAMOUS I.M. PEI AND THE BEST JOB I NEVER HAD

May 13, 2016

Louvre Pyramid, Paris, France, by I.M. Pei & Partners (photo by Patrick Langwallner on Unsplash)

Though the job interview at I.M. Pei’s company started normal enough, it was over before it began.

Arriving in Manhattan, I only had a couple hundred bucks, my cousin’s sofa to crash on for two weeks, and my architecture portfolio. I needed a job. Badly.

Having just graduated college, my resume pathetically displayed only three months of professional experience, which consisted mostly of practicing how to write nice letters. I don’t mean correspondences and memos. I mean literally writing letters. I practiced my A’s, B’s and C’s.

My architectural portfolio from UC Berkeley
My architectural portfolio from UC Berkeley

To get an architecture job, it comes down to your portfolio, a black binder that holds your design work. I had received good advice ahead of time. A portfolio was not, as many young architects wrongly believe, a comprehensive chronological tome of all of one’s school work—from the first year of learning how to draw an apple, to the middle years of designing a house, to the final studio of something complex such as a civic center.

Imagine the bored interviewer listening to you drone on, “And in this third semester class, we designed a blah, blah, blah . . . for my fourth semester . . . now, let’s turn to page 108 of my portfolio . . .” No, a portfolio should be a vigilantly curated story of one’s creativity.

For my New York interviews, my portfolio was sound: A few school projects, a sample of drafting from an internship, and some personal pieces of photography and figure drawing. I was, I felt, a well-rounded candidate for an entry position.

I mailed dozens of resumes to architecture firms in NYC, from the highest profile corporations to the small studios. (No email back then.) One day after several rejections, I returned to a voicemail on my cousin’s answering machine. (No cell phones back then.) It was from the offices of I.M. Pei.

Rock and Roll Hall of Fame & Museum, Cleveland, Ohio, by Pei Cobb Freed & Partners (photo by David Lennon from Pixabay)

I..M. PEI!

Mr. Pei’s HR person left me a voicemail, asking if I was available for an interview. This was it: A dream come true for any young architect, a possible job at one of the most prestigious companies on the globe!

Wearing my only suit and tie, I went through the usual motions with Pei’s interviewer. He asked a few questions about how I liked Berkeley, about my piano playing, etc. He then got to the meat of the interview: My portfolio. While flipping through my colorful pages, he explained the office building that I would design, if I got the job.

John Hancock Tower, Boston, Massachusetts, by I.M. Pei & Partners (photo by Phil Evenden on Pexels)

I’d already be assigned an office building to design!

But he was perplexed. He looked at my trivial portfolio. He studied my skimpy resume. Then looked at me. Then at the resume. Then me. Then resume.

Finally, he inquired in a puzzled state, “I don’t get it. How old are you?”

Before I answered, he repeated a little more aggressively, “How old are you?!”

Squeaking out, “I am 22 years old.”

Dumbfounded and perturbed, he demanded, “Where are the 17 years of experience?”

I was equally dumbfounded. “What 17 years are you talking about?”—trying not to be disrespectful of the eminent offices of I.M. Pei.

He asserted that this was an interview for a senior architect to design an 85-story office tower.

I explained, retreating for no real reason, “Sorry, but I have less than one year of experience.”

My first job in New York City at M. Paul Friedberg and Partners, late 80’s

Long story short: A harried HR person made a mistake transcribing numbers between my resume and the office form my interviewer was looking at now. The embarrassed—though more frustrated than embarrassed—interviewer showed me, turning the office form around for me to witness. There indeed did my 22 year-old eyes see in one-inch tall letters: “17 years of experience. Good candidate!”

The interviewer expressed annoyance, angered by the sloppiness from his world-class company that prides itself on designs of perfect proportions, exquisitely executed finishes, and highly detailed precision.

Like a little boy whose ice cream scoop had fallen off his cone into the dirt, I picked up my portfolio and left the best job opportunity I never had.

© Poon Design Inc.