Concrete Mysticism

While occasionally dipping into syrupy sweet sentimentality, My Architect: A Son's Journey is a fantastic documentary and fascinating exploration into the varied private and public lives of architect Louis I. Kahn.

Nathaniel Kahn clearly is not a professional documentarian - his interview style is amateurish and I was often forced to wonder if the musical advisors were actually present during the music selection process, or if they were just figments of the director's imagination.  Nevertheless, viewing this film was a powerful cinematic experience - and one that I hope to repeat.

The film's thoughtful visiting of several of Kahn's most inspired works - the Salk Institute in La Jolla and the National Capitol of Bangladesh among them - brought their beauty and intensity to life.  [I know that sounds lame, but let me tell you: Kahn's stunning creations evoke tears from people repeatedly throughout the film and left this little movie watcher crying as well...]

Kahn the younger also treats the viewer to an impressive line-up of interviewees: I.M. Pei, Robert A. M. Stern, Philip Johnson, and Frank Gehry.  By the looks of the stylishly bespectacled Johnson in his sweet and hilarious interview at the Glass House, My Architect may have captured one of Johnson's last interviews on film.  Truly important history here.

It was also fascinating to see the archival footage of Kahn in his prime - clearly a self-contained, passionate, intelligent man.  Yes, the tales of his extramarital activities shatter any idyllic image an architecture lover would wish to hold of this genius, but the "Family Matters" section was the least consequential segment of the film [for anyone outside of the immediate family, that is].  While it's understandable that N. Kahn needed to make the film personal, viewers everywhere should be thankful that he managed to surpass the private exploration of his father's life to provide an in depth portrait of a man and his craft.  Wow.

Perhaps unbeknownst to the filmmaker, he also provided ample evidence of the past and present sexism in the field of architecture.  Is it any coincidence that both of the women with whom Kahn had children, but to whom he was not married, were incredible architects in their own right whose names will be long forgotten?  [Remember: Ann Tyng and Harriet Patterson!]  Not to mention the builder or contractor interviewed in the film who described Kahn as being "like a wife" - always coming up with ideas that would have been good "a few days ago."  Argh.

There's really so much more to discuss - the mysterious circumstances of Kahn's death; Harriet's convictions that are sad in their strength and desperation; Ann's emotional revisiting of the Trenton bath house; the cool-ass musical boat.  Aw hell - just go see it for yourself.