Notes from Toronto's Interior Design Show: appreciating relationships above all
Attending this year's Interior Design Show (IDS) reminded me of the multifaceted nature of the design profession and the enduring power of professional relationships. This annual Toronto event celebrated its 25th anniversary this year. Beyond the show's evolution and its ongoing mandate to showcase innovative products and trends, IDS represents an invaluable platform to connect with a wide range of designers--not just architects--in an industry where egos loom large. With the ongoing trends of furniture manufacturers operating year-round showrooms, the evolving nature of online sourcing, and perhaps even our post-pandemic era, the traditional allure of design shows like IDS has declined. The show organizers know this and have been keen to evolve the offerings of a design show to be more educational and interactive: they want to create a tangible experience of engaging with industry professionals. IDS remains a practical resource for the design community, notably a chance to meet new people. When combined with DesignTO, a city-wide design festival overlapping IDS, this wintry time of the year offers many ideas about design and conversation starters with colleagues.
The city-wide DesignTO Festival, which runs from January 19 to 28, effectively overlaps IDS. The festival began in 2011 by DesignTO, a non-profit arts organization offering exhibitions, presentations, and programming to elevate the general public's knowledge and appreciation of design. With hundreds of free exhibitions and events around the city, DesignTO is an excellent complement to IDS and intended to be more "street," given that many installations are temporary and held in office lobbies, galleries, stores, windows, and online.
This year, I participated in staging Housing the Unhoused, an installation led by SvN Architects + Planners that proposes the construction of 50 cabins made of cross-laminated timber (CLT) to serve the needs of our homeless populations. SvN designed the shelter and coordinated its construction by CABN. The non-profit Two Steps Home will operate the cabin community when fundraising goals have been met. The cabins will be delivered on City-owned land, intended to be temporary and moved to locations as required. As part of the Future Neighbourhood at IDS, Housing the Unhoused is a cabin community with common washing, cooking, and eating areas designed to create a safe place for some members of our unhoused populations to transition toward more permanent housing.
Housing the Unhoused was part of the Future Neighbourhood, an IDS feature intended to provoke conversation about design. In addition to SvN, the feature included Interior Architects (IA), Noam Hazan Design Studio, Safoura Zahedi, SDI Design with Q4 Architects, and Syllable Design. These installations examined design solutions to problems that included the ever-evolving crossover of work and living spaces, aging in place, and technology. These self-funded installations spoke to a broader spectrum of design, offering a diversity of thought not typically on display in the more traditional booths at the show. For the expected 40,000 visitors, the Future Neighbourhood also offered candid opportunities to discuss the social implications of design in a way that could be more provocative in intent.
Ultimately, it's about the people.
The success of SvN's Housing the Unhoused, or any other installation at the Future Neighbourhood, ultimately depends upon effective collaboration. In the case of SvN, working with non-profits to manage the cabin communities is required, along with volunteers, donors and the participation of municipalities, to achieve the critical goal of serving the needs of some of the most vulnerable members of our community. Developing a clear design innovation that is easy to present visually is relatively simple, but building it requires a whole other level of effort. While this may seem obvious, we should never forget how important it is to work with the right people. As I expand my professional interests beyond SvN, I can only speak to my own experiences working with the firm as a Director over the past three-and-a-half years by noting just how much of a priority it is for the practice to engage in inclusive collaboration in all forms.
The decision for anyone participating at IDS is to be aware of the importance of finding trusted collaborators. Housing the Unhoused is a work in process, and its outcome will likely change and evolve from what last week's exhibition. And that is a good thing, too: a noteworthy pursuit of being sensitive to our diverse housing needs in today's cities, the necessity to build for a post-carbon future, to consider the efficiency of building performance and its use of materials. These considerations add to the increasing need to become a regenerative practice, a working methodology paramount to SvN's leadership. Housing the Unhoused represents those ideals while serving as a point for future dialogue with experts in all aspects of design and construction.
And as much as SvN is pursuing these ideals, it is not alone. It takes many like-minded individuals to create change, whether change is about modular construction, low-cost housing, a more efficient circular economy, or more inclusive cities. We should, under no circumstances, ever be convinced that our ideas are perfect, nor should we ever become misinformed by our own opinions. For me, the most significant takeaway from my experience at IDS is to be able to share ideas and connect with others about ideas.
It takes time.
I am not alone in saying that, at various times in our week or career, we feel alone in our work. The competitive design environment only sometimes allows colleagues to regularly support or acknowledge our pursuit of good work. (There are always the awards programs and congratulatory remarks on LinkedIn.) Thankfully, over time, we develop a network of trusted individuals who can help us remain sane, connected, and authentic in our work. Colleagues with battle scars or the experience to understand that nothing comes easy, deeply understand this fact: the harder you work, the luckier you get!
I write this because, while at IDS, I could catch up with friends whom I remember trudging through snowstorms years ago to get to a meeting with, those whom I have taught studios with, and those whom I have watched grow their design practices. All that, as they raised kids, found loving partners, or maybe moved through various incarnations of their careers. The one thing better than sharing ideas is to be able to hear about the journeys of others in architecture and related disciplines.
The enduring power of professional relationships takes time. I'm at a point in my career that has taken me around the world and where I worked in various capacities amounting to a level of experience where I can genuinely appreciate the many beautiful and memorable collaborations I've experienced.
Adapting to changing work dynamics.
While the global pandemic is a fading memory, returning to work five days a week remains elusive for many firms. To be sure, it is common to learn about the smaller studios where staff have returned full-time to the office, whereas, for many larger design firms, three days a week has become the norm. When working from home during the pandemic was necessary, accepting a hybrid work model was fast-tracked but not created by COVID-19. Even now, many people working in an office are on virtual calls all day. Most often, half (or more) of the people on a given Zoom call appear to be sitting within earshot of one another. Critics of the hybrid model often claim, "If you want a job, work from home. If you want a career, come to the office." As an intern architect, I certainly remember learning a lot through osmosis--overhearing conversations around me that invariably include (sometimes heated) discussions with contractors, planning authorities, consultants and clients. In today's world, with most calls done with headphones on, overhearing conversations have become much more muted. I am unsure whether working remotely (at least part of the time) is measurably better than coming into a design office every day from an efficiency standpoint. But working in an office--at least part of the week--will make you feel better and more connected to colleagues. This reality relates to working collaboratively and developing strong social connections with peers. I was reminded of that recently at IDS and the DesignTO Festival.
Since I entered the profession of architecture, the design profession has witnessed a shift in work-life balance. Notwithstanding the generalities that describe the attunements of Millennials or Gen-Z workers, the demand for weekend and evening work, once a norm, has evolved, with contemporary professionals seeking a more balanced lifestyle. Principal architects have lamented this change, and I sympathize with their criticisms. Still, I appreciate why a non-partner-level employee will have limited commitment to a firm where they don't have skin in the game of the business other than employment. Nevertheless, bosses aren't necessarily obligated to their employees' careers. While this reality can be disillusioning, it is also empowering, especially when building the entrepreneurial spirit of one's career trajectory and contribution to the architectural profession.
We navigate the egos and ambiguities of others.
The design world is not without its share of egos; I advise those entering the profession that developing a thick skin is almost a prerequisite. Design conferences, lectures, parties and other events often become platforms for colleagues to deliver monologues about potential projects that may never materialize or failed competition entries. And, of course, how busy they may be. While it is sometimes difficult to stay grounded when trying to make sense of a room full of egos, I am constantly reminding myself of one crucial consideration: these are ostensibly hard-working people trying to make a living in a competitive world while they give so much of their creative energy to make it happen.
When I moderate panel discussions or give out design awards as either a jury member or host of an event, I try to acknowledge the humanity of the individuals recognized, especially since those same people likely failed at one point or another in their careers to win an award or were otherwise overlooked. Those who are lauded likely had to navigate disillusionment and the egos of others to get to where they are.
Consider that attitude as my antidote to cynicism!
Celebrating the uniqueness of others
Several years ago, I contributed to developing a conference program for IDS, building on my experience with The Buildings Show. These opportunities allowed me to witness firsthand the power of curated content, keynotes, and floor installations in enhancing the overall design show experience. The essence of design shows remains invaluable as a catalyst for inspiration, networking, and knowledge exchange.
Reflecting on my experiences at the Interior Design Show and DesignTO Festival, the design profession is a journey that requires navigating egos, collaborations and being prepared to engage in meaningful dialogue with others. These challenges and other uncertainties are part of the complex tapestry that makes our profession rewarding, urging us to embrace change while celebrating our colleagues' honest thoughts, concerns and ambitions. Call it one big dysfunctional family, but thankfully, my colleagues' diversity of thought and leadership makes me exceptionally grateful to be an architect and part of the design profession.
And I look forward to being delighted by the idiosyncrasies of others as I continue my adventures.
