“Do you golf?” This is a common even trite question within business relations. But for serious golfers, the inquiry is not just a part of transactional dealings. No, golf is a religion for some. Since my answer was, “Uh, no. Sorry, I don’t golf,” I was certain we failed at the job interview. To our surprise, we won the project: Poon Design was commissioned to design a ground breaking golf facility, where tradition meets technology.
We probably won because we brought the appropriate blend of creativity, attentiveness, professionalism and a down-to-earth demeanor, as compared to a “starchitect’s” ego, arrogance and self-interests.
For this 3,200-square-foot recreational and practice facility, known as the Golf Performance Center, we blended the legacy, tradition and culture of golfing with the latest technological developments in golf simulation—a simultaneous look back with an eye towards the future. Our architecture is modern, with abstract hints, such as proportion and scale, towards the Neoclassical style of the nearby 1911 clubhouse.
The overall design of our Golf Performance Center began in response to the size and scale of nearby homes. For a “good neighbor” approach, we reduced the mass of our structure, splitting its singular form into two. We then slid the two masses in opposite directions, east then west—further breaking down its scale and creating an entry patio.
The composition provided an opportunity for an innovative roof, one of two roofs actually. Such an approach delivered an iconic building form seen from nearby and the upper golf course, while also offering a dynamic ceiling and volumetric form within. Our creative journey explored a dozen roof forms: from gables to sheds, an undulating living roof to simply flat, and diagonally folded to a Mid-Century Modern accordion—to name a few.
We arrived at a double roof, where each is both gable and shed. At the west end of the building where visitors arrive, two gable facades provide the most traditional and welcoming of roof lines for the public. At the east end of the building, the gables transition to two long shed roofs, reducing the building’s volume as it approaches nearby homes and the hillside.
The front mass of the facility houses the entry, two practice driving studios and equipment fitting studio, whereas the back mass contains a multipurpose event area, practice putting studio, office and restrooms.
The three front studios open to the 400-yard driving range, where golfers swing out of the building through an 11-foot tall, six-panel, glass folding doors. With the retractable screen down, one can experience the virtual motion-capture swing platform. The practice putting studio contains an ground breaking feature: a topographical moving floor that can be programmed and shaped to numerous inclines and undulations.
On the interior walls of the event area, we reinterpreted the traditional beadboard wall surface used elsewhere around the property. This style of wood cladding originated from England centuries ago. Within our Golf Performance Center, the vertical wood planks sweep around convex and concave curved corners, a metaphor for the arc of a golf ball or swing of a golf club.
The exterior design comprises white acrylic-resin plaster, standing seam galvanized metal roof, glass and aluminum accordion doors and a steel and wood trellis. Situated at the north end of the practice range, the Golf Performance Center provides a landmark structure that honors the history of this campus while looking towards the future.
#180: PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT
December 22, 2023
Study models, Golf Performance Center, Los Angeles, California (photo by Anthony Poon)
We architects call our industry the “practice of architecture.” This is so, because we are still practicing. It is not called the accomplishments of architecture or the perfection of architecture. It is rare that architects consider themselves accomplished. Even after several decades of professional practice, I am still just practicing.
The practice of architecture embraces the unreachable goal of perfection. As a classical pianist, I relate. To perform a work of Bach or Chopin, for example, you have to practice…and practice…and practice. The goal is perfection, but in classical music, is perfection attainable? Consider the odds: Can even the most accomplished concert pianist play a piano sonata consisting of one-million notes and not make a single mistake? And make it beautiful?
In architecture, no matter how great a completed building is, we always think it could be better—should be better. Even when a glorious beam of sunlight gracefully illuminates an art gallery the we successfully designed, we will still judge our work. “Oh, the stone trim should have had a sandblasted finish instead of honed, then the reflection would be a few degrees softer. And the window should be moved over two inches for optimal, blah, blah.” No one cares, but we try and try again to get it right.
A moving target, we must try to learn all the code requirements, whether structural engineering, fire exits, energy compliance, water percolation, or ADA compliance. Such items and hundreds more change constantly as a city plan checker issues yet another addendum. The process has become so convoluted that even the plan checkers themselves do not know the requirements they have drafted.
At times, technology moves at a pace faster than the practice of architecture. With AI, 3D printing, modular, BIM, AR/VR, computational design, robotic fabrication, building performance analysis, etc., we are always learning, or falling short of learning, the latest and greatest in software and equipment.
If each new client, good or bad, was the exact same as the previous, then we could practice our client service skills to perfection. The meetings, presentations, and decision-making processes would become routine, hence being well-practiced and eventually needing no more practicing. But of course every client is different in personality, expectations, experience, and thinking.
Poon Design is a boutique design studio. Each project is custom designed, never a cookie cutter solution. If our work was like Richard Meier’s elegant white structures, then when it comes time to pick a paint color, the choices are white 1 vs. white 2. That’s it. But for our projects, each being unique, the choices are endless, not just the 98 shades of white, but maybe vivid colors, pastels, or earth tones.
Beyond the creative world of design, the practice of architecture also involves the logistics of running an office, e.g., marketing and business development, hiring and staffing, payroll and accounting, insurance and rent, state employer laws, and so on.
So in the end, with each project, with each client, with another year under our belt, with another national design award, we get closer to being accomplished as a professional. But even then, we will all say this is still the “practice of architecture.”
Bruce Lee once said, “Practice makes perfect. After a long time of practicing, our work will become natural, skillful, swift, and steady.” But for architects, such perfection may take a lifetime or longer.
#139: JORDAN ESTES INTERVIEWS ANTHONY POON: THE WHAT / HOW / WHY’S OF ARCHITECTURE
August 13, 2021
Poon Design Inc., Los Angeles, California (photo by Poon Design)
Exploring personal interests and college ambitions, Jordan Estes, Santa Monica high school student, interviewed me on a broad range of topics swirling around being an architect. Hope you enjoy this well-rounded primer—from collaboration to fluidity to technology.
Jordan Estes: I’m Jordan Estes, and I’m here helping you understand the basics of design jobs. Today I’m talking to Anthony Poon, an architect from Los Angeles. Architecture is not just based on you and your own skill, right? It’s very team based?
Anthony: It’s a collaboration, and not just within my team at the office. It’s often a collaboration with the client too. When a client says they are interested in designing a house, library, or church, we have to understand what their vision is. They become part of the creative team.
Architecture is a collaboration of dozens of different trades and personalities. There are architects focusing on interiors or furniture design. Some focus on lighting. There’s the exterior of a building, or how one moves through space. Every project can be broken down into hundreds of little pieces.
Jordan: Even outside of your team, there’s other professions that work with you?
Anthony: The architect is like the conductor of an orchestra. An orchestra has all these different musicians—violinists, cellists, trombone players—and it’s the conductor’s job to make sure it all stays organized and sounds great. We’re organizing not just all of the designers, but helping to organize the construction trades from painters to electricians, plumbers to framers. Also, we’re coordinating the work of a structural engineer or technology consultant, security expert or elevator specialist. Many spinning tops
Jordan: And with the contractor, would you say that you work with them to actually get the project built?
Anthony: The general contractor is the conductor of his construction orchestra: plumbers, electricians, carpenters. Our job as the architect is to check in on construction regularly, make sure it’s meeting the design goals. And of course, every project has questions that come up during construction, and we’re around to work through them.
Jordan: How did you realize that you wanted to get into architecture? What traits did you have that allowed you to realize that architecture was right for you?
Anthony: I think most of my colleagues chose architecture because they started off very young with creative interests. It might be drawing, building things, playing with Lincoln Logs, or even taking a washing machine apart and trying to put it back together. I built a lot of model kits, cars, tanks, and rocket ships. I really liked making things. For me, it’s the interests in imagining some new world, some place where people can meet, where kids can go to a school, or a family live in a house. Realizing that you can actually do something creative like this in real life as a grownup is exciting.
Jordan: When you went into architecture, is there anything that you didn’t expect—that you ended up just being surprised about?
Anthony: The thing that surprised me most was how challenging it is. The creative aspect is the enjoyable and rewarding side of architecture. But there’s so many other aspects to architecture. Every design you come up with has to meet a budget and a schedule. Getting through the city permitting process can be lengthy and torturous. And of course, there’s always those clients making changes and coming up with ideas different than what they said a month ago. The design process has a few more hiccups than anticipated.
Jordan: How do you choose clients, and what kind of structures do you design?
Anthony: The clients that we like to work with are the one that are interested in design, that are interested in the creative approach and being part of the artistic process. If someone comes to us and already knows what they want—saying, “We just want to have something like Cape Cod style”— that’s less interesting to us. That’s more of a cookie cutter approach. We’re looking for clients that are interested in the design process.
We don’t identify with any particular kind of building type. Some architects do. Some architects only design hospitals or parking structures, or maybe only performing arts centers. We specialize in design and that can mean helping any client to solve any kind of project. We focus a lot on hospitality, like restaurants and bars, sometimes retail. We also get our hands into educational design, and we do religious projects like Buddhist temples. And we also do cultural projects, visitor centers, multi-family buildings. It’s a wide range, and we’re excited by how far we are able to extend our talents.
Jordan: It seems like architecture is focused on fluidity. Fluidity in architecture is about change, making sure what you’re keeping and/or changing to adapt to the best possible situation.
Anthony: “Fluidity” is a really good word. I also like to think of the metaphor of jazz music and being able to improvise—stay loose and keep the process organic. If there’s a design question, there are dozens of ways of approaching it—lots of answers to the same question. We’ve got to stay “fluid” as you say, to come up with the best creative solution.
Jordan: How do you think architecture is changing as new technology gets developed?
Anthony: When I started in architecture, there were no computers. We were drawing by hand and putting pencil to paper. Then came computers. Computer-aided-design (“CAD”) became the software that replaced drawing by hand. It was a whole new world.
And now we’re entering 3D modeling. Rather than just drafting things, we’re actually building our projects in the computer in three dimensions digitally. On top of that, there’s AR/VR. We’re able to use these 3D models and take our clients for a walk into our projects. There are limits though. With all technology, it is four steps forward, three steps back.
Jordan: I know a lot of jobs are being replaced with new technology. Are you concerned something like that could happen to architecture?
Anthony: It’s definitely a possibility, but I’m not too concerned. I think it will be some time before we’re replaced by some kind of machine. What we do is based on human relationships and a creative process. It’s not just cataloging; it’s not just drafting. But I do believe that software will eventually be able to design buildings for people. Ten years ago, people didn’t think computers could replace authors, but there is software out there that can write entire novels. The question is whether these novels are good.
Jordan: I think one of the best things about architecture is that because you focus on so many experiences, you could find a new profession somewhat easily.
Anthony: A bunch of classmates didn’t go into architecture. Architecture teaches you to problem solve, teaches you to think creatively about The Big Picture. A lot of architects moved into software engineering, graphic design or book publishing—even photography, furniture design, fashion design. I heard of one that started knitting sweaters—another one designing wedding cakes. Design is a broad field. It could be designing a car. It could be creating with paint colors for Home Depot.
Jordan: Thank you for letting me interview you. And to everyone who’s listening, I hope you learned something.
#117: SHIFTING GROUNDS IN ARCHITECTURE
May 1, 2020
Fires at the 405 freeway, near where I previously resided. (photo from abcnews.go.com)
As earthquakes and fires challenge our complacency, as a decade concludes, the design industry confronts transitions and shifting grounds. No, not trends in popular paint colors. And not faux-Cape-Cod homes on the west side. Architecture is one of the few remaining noble fields where those who choose to participate do so because architecture has the capacity to change the world.
SUSTAINABILITY AND RESILIENCE
Sustainability is not a fad, no longer just a movement. It is mission critical. Being green does not simply comprise solar panels on the roof with recycled materials in the kitchen. Being an advocate for the environment has evolved into a lifelong commitment to our global community.
Last year as Poon Design Inc. received its certification as a sustainable business from the California Green Business Network, our pledge went beyond saving on paper and electricity. Our calling involves educating clients, participating in community service, and thinking beyond the physical environment, to include our economic and social circumstances.
Add the recent interests in biophiliaand the instinctive association to nature and all forms of life. More crucial is what is known today as resilient design. How does architecture recover from disaster, whether fire or flood—even terrorism or a school shooting?
TECHNOLOGY AND PROCESS
I embrace the old school tools of my trade that include a pencil, triangle and drafting table. A quantum leap for design arrived with digital technology. Computers and algorithms are not just powerful tools for the creative process, but also for construction. But I argue that our clients have been saturated with this promising call of a technological future.
For the design process, hands-on, rolling-up-one’s-sleeves, real-time methods replace clicks of the mouse. Expressive hand drawings far outshine the heavily-Photoshopped computer rendering. A 3D-rendering captures what the house might look like. But a hand-drawn sketch captures the emotion. When in construction, Poon Design challenges the machine-made and the factory-produced output. We embrace the hand-crafted that expresses the human touch.
BLURRING THE LINES
Where advantageous, architects became design-builders. Where necessary, lines between architects and interiors designers became fuzzy. Where strategic, architects designed furniture and interior designers designed bedding and kitchenware. Though the business model of single-minded specialization is an expedient method to market one’s brand, such as being the expert of Spanish Colonial estates in Beverly Hills, the current industry reveres the design companies of greater depth and complexity. As Frank Lloyd Wright promoted decades ago, ambitious design studios offer an array of services under one roof, from architecture to interiors, from furniture to graphics, from landscape to product design. With the right client, Poon Design adds branding, fashion, art/music curation, and certified feng shui services.
For each designer focusing exclusively on luxury single-family residences, there are architects embracing tract homes, prefabricated ADUs, affordable housing, and co-living mixed-use projects. Why can’t the architect of homes design a Buddhist temple?
CONSTANT CHANGE
Practically a cliché these days, Heraclitus proclaimed, “The only constant in life is change.” The truism still applies.
I don’t have a crystal ball, nor do my fellow classmates. But we are somewhat Futurists and we encounter the patterns. 1) The significance of community outweighs the consequence of self. 2) Face-to-face, hands-on interaction prevails over phone texts and posting on Instagram. 3) There are no limits to what a designer can design, what a creative mind can create.
#103: LIMITED BY THE TOOLS OF THE TRADE
July 12, 2019
Old days of architectural drafting (photo from Archinect)
For most architects, the design starts inside the brain. We are then challenged to extract that creative spark out of our head and on to paper, or these days, on to a computer screen. Urgently, we grasps at the tools of our trade to convert the abstract ideas into some visual form of communication, i.e., the sketch on the back of an envelope, the first computer drawing, or the crude paper model.
Often, our ideas are grander, more ambitious, than any tool can capture. Tools have limits, whereas our artistic spirits do not.
The old days of architecture embraced simple non-mechanical tools, such as the T-square and the triangle. This allowed us to merely draw parallel lines and only four angles—30, 45, 60 and 90 degrees. If our brain generated an architectural idea with a curved shape or at an 18.5 degree angle, our tools were challenged to capture the idea.
A new tool came along: the adjustable triangle. No longer a static piece of wood or plastic—this tool was mechanical, moving upon its little hinge. The adjustable triangle freed the architect to now make any angle of choice. During school, we used to joke by pointing out when students purchased his/her first adjustable triangle, because their drawings all of a sudden had a new complexity of diagonal lines.
Alongside other instruments such as the compass, French curves, elliptical templates, etc., new ideas could be expressed. Architecture started to have move diagonals, more curves, more complexity. Again, we poked fun, “With these new house designs and the angles, Frank Lloyd Wright must have purchased fancier drawings tools for his staff!”
A quantum leap in communicating design ideas arrived with digital technology. These days, almost anything architects can dream up can be captured using today’s devices. With algorithms, computers are not just communicating ideas that are in our heads, but are generating ideas without our heads.
Here is the question: just because we can think it, just because we can draw it, just because we can build it—should we? Just because software can describe a heroic complex form (like CATIA for Frank Gehry), just because a computer can document a complex pattern for water jet cutting a sheet of steel, just because 3ds Max and Maxwell Render can produce a near photographically realistic image, should we have technology replace the use of our brains and our hands?
One example: If you tour an architecture school or many architecture design studios, you will see the excessive use of the 3d printer. With limited time on the computer and a few clicks of the mouse, dozens of physical models of a particular design theme are produced in plastic. I argue that most of these variations-on-a-theme are insignificant. Just because an architect can generate 20 similar ideas, doesn’t mean that all these ideas have merit. Wouldn’t it be better to develop one idea carefully, strategically and thoughtfully?
My personal preference is to design ideas that are more hand crafted, then machine produced—relying more on heart than tools.
#97: PODCAST PART 2: MODERN FOR THE MASSES, REVISITED
March 8, 2019
Escena Residence I-3, Palm Springs, California, by Poon Design (photo by Chris Miller)
Continuing with my interview for Josh Cooperman’s podcast, Convo By Design, we discussed how affordable Modern homes were created for the general home buying audience. With 225 built (and sold) homes by Poon Design within only the past few years, I think I know what I am talking about.
Josh Cooperman: What is “Modern for the Masses”? Modern is an idea that you have embraced wholeheartedly and the idea of creating it for the masses is simply a . . . How do you jive those two and what’s the idea behind it?
Anthony Poon: Our thesis, Modern for the Masses came out of a study of a lot of homes in LA—the ones that we see in the magazines, the glossy pictures, the websites, the homes that we love in the Hollywood Hills that sell for 10 million dollars. The challenge was this: How can we create these beautiful modern homes for a fraction of the price? Build them at production level, a mass production level, and sell them.
We teamed with a developer/designer, Andrew Adler, who found distressed properties in Palm Springs. We designed a few prototypes, very Modern, not at all what you see in tract housing. Not the cheap Spanish style homes with the small windows, the fat trim, the fake tile roofs, and the wedding cake décor.
Our Modern homes are very strictly Modern. Lots of glass, open space, very sleek. To date, in the last four years, we’ve completed over 200 homes. And they’ve all been built, they’re all sold, they’ve been published extensively, and we’ve been awarded over two dozen national and regional design awards. It’s a program that has not been accomplished, as far as I know, by any other architecture studio other than Mid-Century Modern, and we’re talking about going back over 60 years.
Josh: Your theory has been tested and it appears to have passed. Why?
Anthony: Because there is a demographic out there that has not been served. These tract housing companies that build communities of 100 homes—they rubber stamp these homes out. They’re not selling. People aren’t interested in these homes.
Our imagined home buyer is someone that wants the modern lifestyle, someone that believes in technology, iPhone, iPad, completely connected all the time. Also, someone who has a concern for sustainability, for being green. Those three things were critical to us and of course, all of these things needed to be done on a budget that was about one-fourth what you would see most homes in California being built for. That was our perfect storm. Our homes have outsold all competing developers in Palm Springs because we have a product that everyone’s been dying for.
Josh: There has to be some things that are limited or cut out. There has to be. What is it? What is being removed?
Anthony: There is nothing being removed. In fact, what we’re adding is a certain kind of value that makes a home better and happens to save money in construction dollars. I wouldn’t say we’re cutting or reducing anything. It’s just the way we’re rethinking architecture.
For a typical traditional house in Beverly Hills, there’s the entry, there’s the foyer, the hallway, the powder room, the niches. What do we need all that for? It’s not even what people want, and it’s what’s driving up construction costs, like framing 20 different ceilings heights throughout a house.
Josh: In fact, you’re just using what you have for the greatest effect.
Anthony: It’s similar to the approach that Minimal art can have a few brush strokes and still be dramatic and impactful for the composition. In that way, you could say that we’ve cut out pieces of architecture. I’m saying we actually added to the essence of a house.
Josh: The concept of the traditional tract home—I’m wondering why it doesn’t work. What is it going to take for your idea to expand to a general market?
Anthony: I think tract housing is failing because these companies are large. They’re money-driven. They’re stuck in old ideas. It takes a lot to turn a company around and look towards the future.
I think of the example of Tower Records. If you recall, a decade ago, MP3 players came out, iPods. Tower Records claimed that it was just a fad that they would hold onto their LPs and their albums. And look what happened to them. Tower Records is gone. iTunes has taken over the world.
So, these tract home companies that we compete with and that we beat out month to month, they’re stuck in these old ideas, these weird big Mediterranean homes, these things I call ‘Taco Bell Homes’—no one wants them anymore.