By: CHERYL FOSDICK
When I was not yet 20, I pierced the boundless skin over all things possible and entered the field of architectural design. In truth, I was captivated by the storytelling and the cathartic scribbling and circling required to form buildings from words and perceptions. I have come to realize that there is magic in architecture when it is a consequence of a devotion to the telling of tales by all the players. In the delighted, mesmerized, actuated, provoked reasoning that is involved in the design process from the moment senses point toward specific land and individuals, a tale begins to spin. When the circumstances of adequate time, ample respite, good communication and fair compensation come together, the design process becomes a shared meditation. Ideally, intellects and emotions combine to create a flawless architecture ... a perfect trek to the mountaintop. Five years is all it took to ruin that paradigm.
Inflation, Amazon, social isolation and indifference toward family legacy have changed my calling in the last five years. The role of poetics and intuition in built work, so essential to its delight and magic, took a back seat to putting one inclined foot in front of the other, as quickly as possible ... a march seeming more and more like work.
Three years ago, after losing one studio to fire and another to developers, I determined that CF design and I, who are basically one and the same, needed to adapt to the bedlam of architectural design, or go crazy. This suggested a change in the office environment where, even for a stolen moment, we could stir more creative and lyrical mindsets, while simultaneously driving 80 in a 30 mph zone.
Enter the Whirling Dervish.
“I’m Dancing as Fast as I Can” seemed to be every colleague’s assertion. Unlike Barbara Gordon’s famous book and movie by the same title, I doubt they all suffered from a Valium addiction, though it would be understandable in these times.
One friend self-identified as a whirling dervish. A whirling dervish. I like words, and these two words were something to explore. The whirling dervish seemed a metaphor for my career. The similarities to my practice spoke to me. In learning of the dervish’s devotional and meditative priorities and practices, I found a way to nurture and take pleasure in the scrambled whirligig I was becoming and, yes, my workplace became someplace special.
Whirling dervishes believe in a magical and rational thread of Islam. They seek to understand the significance of actions and effects by engaging in unconstrained imaginings, rather than delineating restrictions. They do all this by rapidly spinning around an axis — often for hours — using their sense of balance and wonder to hinder vertigo. When they stop, they stand in groups for minutes to salvage their balance ... and then begin to whirl again. There is joie de vivre in the constant movement and the momentary calm, taken together.
My architectural firm, CF Design, is now coupled with my serene and public lighting showroom, LUMstudio. I also feature the work of regional artists. A local yoga studio teaches classes in my office. I market and showcase furnishings from Portugal, rooted in Danish modern form and Portuguese craft, both dear to me. My staff and I each have our own collections of tabletops and books … our own vessels in a sea of wide wood floors, and we are enfolded in beautiful materials and visitors. We are all juggling and pursuing design work in this frenetic world, but inspired context provides renewed balance due to the simple reversal of circumstance discovered in two words.