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| Yale Center for British Art, Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut |
Interview with David S. Traub, AIA Emeritus, for the Oral History Program at the Yale Center for British Art, Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut
December 14, 2021
Completion of Edited Version of Interview: December 14, 2024
Oral Interview with
David S. Traub, AIA Emeritus, at the Yale Center for British Art,
Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut
In the autumn of 2021 I was asked by Constance (Cecie) Clement, then Deputy Director of the Yale Center for British Art, to travel to New Haven to be interviewed for their Oral History Program about my experience working on the YCBA building for architect Louis I. Kahn from the year 1970 through 1973.
The interview was conducted by Stephanie Machabee, a graduate student at Yale University, the afternoon of December 14, 2021.
I had traveled to New Haven from Philadelphia the same day, arriving late in the morning. It was my pleasure to be invited for lunch by staff members of the YCBA at the Harvest Restaurant in the lower open courtyard at the west side of the building. Attending were: Constance (Cecie) Clement, Rachel Chatalbash, Senior Museum Archivist, and Stephanie Machabee. After lunch, I was given a tour conducted by Cecie of the recently renovated building just before participating in the interview.
A recording of the oral interview, and a written transcript made from it, was subsequently sent to me in Philadelphia.
In order to provide greater readability, I have edited and slightly rewritten portions of the text. The form, fact and substance of the transcript have not been altered. As well, I have attempted to retain the spoken flavor of the original interview. Photos have been included to illustrate some of the information given.
It should be noted that I have added at the very end of the edited transcript, in an appendix, anecdotes concerning an experience with Louis Kahn not included in the actual oral interview at Yale. I included the anecdotes because I wanted them be memorialized, and because I thought they would be of considerable interest to the reader.
David S. Traub- Dec.14, 2021 Interview at Yale University by Stéphanie Machabée_Pt_1&2
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: We have begun the interview. My name is Stéphanie Machabée, I am here with David Traub. The date today is December 14, 2021.Thank you so much, David, for being here with us today. It's a real pleasure. We are going to begin this interview with some introductory questions. So the first one, or first set of questions: could you please introduce yourself and tell us a bit about your background? What made you first interested in architecture? And when did you know you wanted to become an architect?
DAVID TRAUB: This is David S. Traub. I was born in Louisville, Kentucky on September 6, 1941. I became interested in architecture at a very early age. At home as a child of four or five, I spent hours playing with wooden blocks, building grand, imaginary cities with its many houses. It was then I knew I wished to be an architect. My parents would take me on drives around the countryside surrounding Louisville where we would see southern style houses and mansions. That experience further inspired me.
So the desire to be an architect was with me from a very early age. However, I always had an interest in music. I was sent to music school studying the cello. In a sense, music has been a parallel career albeit subordinate to my architectural one. But to this day, I still play cello in orchestras and in chamber music ensembles, sometimes professionally. I like to say that I strive to bring architecture and structure to my music, and music and lyricism to my architecture. The one art has informed the other.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: That's really great, thank you. You studied at the University of Illinois School of Architecture and the University of Pennsylvania School of Design. Why did you study at these two schools and how did they shape you as an architect?
DAVID TRAUB: Yes, I went to the University of Illinois in Champaign-Urbana which had a five-year undergraduate architecture program. It's a very fine school; it was the second oldest architecture school in the United States after MIT. The University of Illinois is in my family’s background. Both my father, who was from a small town in central Illinois, and my mother from Louisville, went to the University of Illinois. There they met, and here I am as a consequence. My brother Charles, a fine-arts photographer, also went to Illinois. So it was in a family tradition. It was at the University of Illinois that I got to know of Louis Kahn and decided that I wanted to study with him in his Master Class at the University of Pennsylvania. It was only because of Louis Kahn that I went to Penn. I didn't go there simply to attend the University of Pennsylvania. I went there specifically to study with the man. If I had not been admitted into the Master Class, undoubtedly I would not have gone to Penn.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: OK. Well this is great because this gets us to our next question. While at Penn you were a student in Kahn's Master Class. Can you tell us more about this experience? Do you remember your classmates, for example? What did Kahn expect from his students? What were your biggest takeaways from being in his Master Class?
DAVID TRAUB: Well, I had never before seen Kahn in person though I had researched him, written about him, emulated him and saw some of his buildings while I was a student at the University of Illinois. But walking into that great space on the upper floor of the Furness Library at Penn was like, oh, there he is, my mentor standing right in front of me. That truly was an incredible experience, a pivotal moment in my life [4:03]. But just in a nutshell, what Kahn was searching for were the fundamentals of architectural design, going back to the beginning of what it is that makes a building a work of architecture, a work of art – its essence and spirit, what he called ”Form” in the Platonic sense. He was always impelling the students to find that sense of “Form.” That’s what’s made it unique being a student in the Master Class.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Great. Well--
DAVID TRAUB: You asked about my classmates?
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Yes, yes.
DAVID TRAUB: One of my classmates I have been in touch with fairly recently, with whom I was very close, was Carlos de Rosa from Mendoza, Argentina. Carlos designed a building for the Wharton School at Penn after graduating, working for the firm of Bower and Fradley. Probably the most successful architect emanating from the class was Hisao Kohyama, from Tokyo, Japan. I say successful by conventional standards because he's been given some major commissions in Japan and in China, for some large, important buildings. Hisao was a professor at the University of Tokyo where I had lunch with him when I visited him several years ago in Japan. He is an excellent architect and a wonderful person.
Some of our classmates are deceased. I mentioned before the interview, Jack Thrower1 who was an excellent student in the Master Class. There were men and women from all over the world, from Turkey, Germany, England, and Japan. It was really a very international group. There were only about twenty-two students in all, so I was really very fortunate to be selected to join this class. I was just twenty-three years old when I enrolled at Penn. I think I was certainly among the youngest, maybe the youngest. There were older men and women who came back to school from having practiced architecture some number of years. That too was a dimension of the class make-up. For example, there was Gus Ishihara from Honolulu, Hawaii, then in his mid-forties. A few years later when I served as an architect in the Army Corps of Engineers in Honolulu (1966-1968,) I looked up Gus, my former classmate from the Master Class, and enjoyed a renewed friendship.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: OK.
DAVID TRAUB: Then again, the biggest take away from the experience was the desire to constantly question what you're doing in the design process, searching for a beginning in “Form” for the project assigned.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: OK. Well then, that's great, thank you. So we'll talk a little bit more about Kahn as an individual. So Kahn has been described by James Williamson in his book, Kahn at Penn: Transformative Teacher of Architecture, as an unconventional teacher and philosopher. Do you agree with this description? Why or why not?
DAVID TRAUB: Well, let’s say I basically disagree with what seems to be Williamson’s implication. Kahn was perhaps not a typical, a conventional teacher, but he was, in my opinion, what a teacher should be. Such teachers are few and far between today. Louis Kahn said that, “Schools begin with a man under a tree. A man who did not know he was a teacher discussing his realizations with a few others who did not know they were students. The students reflected on the exchange between them on how good it was to be in the presence of this man.”2 Well, quite frankly, that's something that's been lost in our great universities and high schools, and even our elementary schools – “That man or woman under a tree who did not know he or she was a teacher and the students who did not know that they were students.” [8:27]
That's the essence of teaching that's been lost in education. But Kahn maintained that approach in his own teaching in the Master Class, and in the conduct of his office where I worked for three years after graduating from Penn. So it's true that Kahn may not have been the typical, conventional teacher, but to my mind, he was what a teacher should be.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: OK. Well, that's great and you’ve just mentioned how you worked in his firm which is great because we'll transition to that part in your life. You worked in Kahn's firm from 1970 to 1973, can you tell us about this experience? How did you get involved with this firm? What were your main responsibilities and projects? And what were your interactions with Kahn like?
DAVID TRAUB: I had been a student in the Master Class so of course Kahn knew me already. Accordingly, it was not like I just dropped from the sky into his office. But prior to working in his office, I was employed at another firm, the Office of David Zuckerkandel, where there were several men who had worked for Kahn earlier. One of them, Yale architecture graduate Robert Sauers, who had been on the staff of Kahn’s office some years back, urged me to work for the great architect. It was Sauers who made the arrangement for me to join Kahn in his office. So there I was, in 1970, working for my mentor, in his own office, as a young architect. That was another pivotal experience in my life. I was thirty years old with some experience under my belt. I had finished my apprenticeship and had acquired my state license to practice architecture. As for my responsibilities, everyone in the office, with a few exceptions, was essentially a draftsman. We were drafting for Lou Kahn. He was the designer, he was the artist; ultimately he made all the decisions, and everyone followed his lead. In the course of my stay in the office, I was assigned to the Kimbell Art Museum project as an assistant to Project Architect Marshall Meyers. Later I was assigned to the YCBA, then called the Mellon, as a draftsman working directly under Kahn. As usual he would come over to the drawing table, look at the work I was doing making comments and criticisms. About ten months before I left the office, I was elevated to the position of Job Captain. The YCBA was then under construction, and I traveled back and forth to New Haven with Kahn, three or four times, to inspect the construction work. On the train and plane trips back and forth to New Haven, I became closer to Kahn than ever before. How fortunate I was to have that thrilling opportunity of getting to better know the extraordinary man. Back in the office, it was a love affair, on and off. Kahn in his way of interacting could be very mercurial. If he was pleased with what you were doing, given time, there was warmth and friendship. If he was displeased, there were grounds for divorce. But none of that particularly fazed me. I have always had the greatest respect for the man, and the way I was treated is the way I should have expected. As a young architect I had no problem with my relationship with Kahn. After all, it was his office; he was the creative genius. He didn't really want any interference in his creative pathway. I was there to enable him.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: That's wonderful, thank you. You established your own firm, David S. Traub, Associates, Architects, Planners and Interior Designers in Philadelphia in 1974. When and why did you decide to make your own firm? And then what kinds of projects did you work on?
DAVID TRAUB: It was toward the end of my third year in Kahn’s office. I was then thirty three years old. The basic design work was finished on the YCBA project, the building where we are now. The essential design at that point was crystallized out. The building had gone under construction with the foundations laid. Yes, not all the details resolved, but in a way I felt that I had accomplished my mission in the office. It was time for me to step out on my own, to be my own man, to get out from under the shadow of Louis Kahn. [13:38] I don't mean that in a disparaging way at all. At that point, I had a friend, a man from India, Samir Mukherjee, who had also left the office where he was working, actually with a former colleague of Kahn’s, Oscar Stonorov. If you'll look into the biography of Kahn’s life, you'll see that name Stonorov appear. They had been partners. Both Samir and I being unemployed decided to go into partnership together and start our own practice. (That partnership dissolved in 1977.) Our first project together was a “group home” for six handicapped children. As well, we received some private residential work. Fortunately, I had another architect friend, George Daher, who already had his own practice. In 1975-76, he was given an opportunity to go to Saudi Arabia to work. At that time many young architects were going to the Middle East as there was opportunity in that part of the world not available in the United States to work on large projects. George had a contract with the City of Philadelphia, Department of Recreation for a community building and playground including basketball and tennis courts, but wanted to leave the country and go to Saudi Arabia. He thought, “What do I do with this commission, this obligation that I have to the City of Philadelphia with my binding contract?” So George said, “David would you like to take over the work for me?” I said, “Of course.” Accordingly, he legally assigned the contract to me. And so that began my career working for the City of Philadelphia, designing playground buildings, and community centers, which I have continued to do until fairly recently. As well, the connection I made at the Department of Recreation led to my working for the Fairmount Park Commission renovating a historic pavilion at Philadelphia’s FDR Park, and some other buildings for the immense park system. This was another pivotal moment in my career setting the stage for my work unfolding across my career in Philadelphia over a period of 45 years.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Wow.
DAVID TRAUB: No doubt about it.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Well, thank you for providing us with a bit of your background. We'll transition now to the Center's design. Can you tell us about your involvement with the design for the Yale Center for British Art, which you started to do, but I'd like to give you the opportunity to say a bit more if you would want to. And what were your primary responsibilities?
DAVID TRAUB: When I came to Kahn’s office in 1970, I was from the very start assigned to the YCBA. This was the first design for the building which Paul Mellon ultimately rejected. That design proved to be too costly, much more than Paul Mellon wanted to spend on the project, coming well over his budget of $10,000,000. As I understood, out of that amount $900,000 was allocated as the architect's fee for Louis Kahn. $900,000 was a big amount then, and it still would be today, even with inflation. Essentially, Paul Mellon was saying, “I am not going to spend one penny more on this project. You have to go back to the drawing board and redesign. Mr. Kahn, come under the budget.” [17:59] With that, I learned an important lesson: when a client has a budget, it's something the architect must respect. After all, Paul Mellon was one of the richest men in the world at that time, maybe the richest. And yet he was unwilling to spend any more than $10,000,000 on the project. Like anyone, including my own clients over the years, he had other priorities financially, other projects he was doing. So in that way, I learned to respect the importance of a budget. At that juncture, I was assigned to the second design of the British Art Center which is the one built where we are now. At the same time, I was working with Marshall Meyers on the Kimbell Art Museum project. The Kimbell was in the final stage of construction with the finalization of the many interior details. I was frequently on the phone to Fort Worth at that time coordinating with the architects and contractors in Fort Worth. In particular, I remember speaking many times with architect, Frank Sherwood, staff member of the Fort Worth firm assisting Kahn at the site. At that point, for both projects, I was essentially a draftsman, sitting at a drawing board. Kahn would come around, as I said, criticize what I was doing, impelling me to make revisions. On the YCBA project, back and forth it would go. Kahn was attentive to the greatest extent to every detail as the design of the building slowly took shape. Towards the end of my stay in Kahn’s office, it finally came under construction. I was then assigned to be the Job Captain, which was more of an administrative position dealing with paperwork, phone calls, taking minutes of meetings, traveling up to New Haven to attend job meetings at the construction site. I showed you photographs of me and Kahn standing down in the excavation, looking up. I remember one time, after one of the morning's work at the construction site, I went with Kahn for lunch to the famous dining hall, Mory’s, is it?
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Yes. Yes.
DAVID TRAUB: Seated at our dining table at Mory’s was the President of Yale at the time. I believe that was Kingman Brewster.3 I was only thirty-two years old, so it was very thrilling to be at Mory’s with the president of Yale University, Louis Kahn and some other high officials.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Yeah. I had forgotten about that place.
DAVID TRAUB: Have you ever been there?
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: I have. Yes.
DAVID TRAUB: I remember there were long wooden tables that were carved into with initials.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Yes, exactly.
DAVID TRAUB: That's almost 50 years ago, but I remember those table tops with the carvings as if yesterday.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Yeah. Earlier you mentioned a little bit about the financial challenges, of at least the first plan. Are there any obstacles or challenges in implementing the Center's project that you would like to speak to?
DAVID TRAUB: Is that an additional question?
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Were there any obstacles or challenges in implementing the Center's project?
DAVID TRAUB: Well, as I have said, Kahn was constantly searching for the best solution, the most fundamental solution, and he took his time doing so. That was the big problem, Kahn's slow pace. He just took his time, designed and redesigned and rethought everything. Of course that made Paul Mellon and the officials at Yale very impatient. For that reason, he was constantly under pressure to move the work forward. In the end, he delivered, as best he could. [22:35] When I left the office at the end of 1973, the basic design was there in concept and to a great extent in its realization. It is important to understand that Kahn was extremely busy in that period of his life. It's not that he didn't want to move rapidly ahead on the YCBA, but he was working on four or five other projects at the same time - a building in Venice, Italy, an office skyscraper in Kansas City, a temple in Jerusalem - the Hurva Temple, and more. Perhaps you don’t know that he was also working on a public school building right here in New Haven at exactly the same time he was working on the YCBA. And as well, he was designing a private house for a client in Washington, DC and also one for Steve Korman in Philadelphia. There may be other projects that I am not mentioning. He was spread so very thin in the office, but in addition to all of that he had his travels to the Far East, to Bangladesh or Ahmedabad, which took weeks on end. And as well, two or three days a week, he would have to go out all afternoon to Penn in West Philadelphia to teach his Master Class. So he was stretched out, pulled this way and that way. There was a limit to how much time he could devote to any one given project. That was the problem. And when Lou was gone, you couldn't really move ahead without his decision-making, his assent to whatever detail or consideration that was before you. You sat there at your drawing board, treading water, for weeks on end. You know, the trips to the Far East might be as long as a month. What did you do in that period? So that was a reality of the office. I assume other people have spoken about that experience.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: No, that definitely sounds like a challenge in this.
DAVID TRAUB: But then again, I'll say this. I place no blame on Kahn. It's just what he had to do. He had all this work, which was to his credit. For sure, he was doing a lot of great work and he had limited time and limited energy. He was doing the best he could with great devotion and dedication. So to this very day, as I said before, I know I repeat myself, but I will anyway, I have ultimate respect and admiration for the man, as a practicing architect, and as a teacher.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Can you tell us about your experiences working with Kahn, which you've given us some insight into, but also others on the Center's design. Are there any specific memories you would like to share, some anecdotes?
DAVID TRAUB: Yes, I told you at lunch, earlier today, about the instance of going to meet with the New Haven fire marshal to try to solve the problem of the big courtyards with the open windows that the fire marshal wanted glassed in. Well, we went over to the fire marshal's office, Lou Kahn, I and Arthur Owen,4 about eleven o'clock in the morning to present an idea that we thought would be a solution to the dilemma of having to enclose those big beautiful openings looking down into the courtyards. We went into the fire marshal's office, a large open room. There we found the fire marshal seated at a round table in the middle of the room. Of course, we introduced ourselves to him, but the fire marshal just sat there with indifference. Here was the great architect, Louis Kahn, yet the fire marshal could care less, probably never having heard of him. However, the fire marshal was particularly concerned about the safety of the building since the fire at the A&A building had just occurred shortly before.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: A&A building?
DAVID TRAUB: Art & Architecture building. Paul Rudolph's building.5 Now I have more to tell you about this. We presented the idea of installing the metal shutters secured on fusible links that would come down in the event of a fire. The fire marshal just sat there and stared at us. Finally, one of his subordinates, a uniformed fireman, came out bringing a plate of grapefruit. The fireman put it down with a single maraschino cherry positioned in the middle. The fire marshal just sat there ignoring us eating his grapefruit while Louis Kahn, Arthur and I remained seated, dumbfounded. [27:54] Finally, when he finished his grapefruit, we presented our idea. As it turned out, he agreed, allowing us to install the metal shutters that basically you have now. And that solved the problem of creating these vast, tall courtyards which are the dramatic spaces we now see, without being closed off with glass.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Thank you for that story. That was great. [RECORDING PAUSED]
OK. We're back to recording. So yes, I want to give you the opportunity to add any other memories or anecdotes that you'd like to share.
DAVID TRAUB: I do have several more stories I would like to share with you. There was a pressing deadline to present drawings to Paul Mellon, who at the time was staying at his townhouse in New York City. It was midway in the design process for the Yale Center. The work to be presented was incomplete the day before the scheduled meeting, so we were compelled to work into the night to finish. It must have gotten to be about two or three o'clock in the morning, a frequent occurrence. By dawn only some of the drawings were finished, but Kahn had to get up to New York for a ten o'clock meeting to present to Mr. Mellon. He left perhaps about eight o'clock on the train; however, we were still working on some of the drawings and finally finished, about nine o'clock, after Lou had left. David Wisdom who was in charge of the office administratively, said, “Traub, I want you to take the rest of the drawings up to Mr. Mellon's house. Get on the train to New York and deliver the drawings.” So I got the drawings into a bundle, went to 30th Street Station, and hopped on the first train available. I arrived in New York about noon and took a cab over to Paul Mellon's townhouse on Park Avenue, a beautiful four or five story Georgian style building, one of the few separate houses remaining on the avenue among the tall apartment houses that otherwise lined the blocks. The cab pulled up, and entering the house I was immediately confronted with a considerable security apparatus. The men, after checking me over, allowed me to go up a magnificent circular stair leading to a drawing room at the back of the second floor. I walked in, and there were Paul Mellon and Louis Kahn seated at a table, pouring over the plans. I summarily introduced myself, laid the drawings on the table, said thank you, excused myself, and left the room. But what a thrill it was. I was only thirty-one or thirty-two traveling up to New York entering Paul Mellon's house and seeing him with Kahn. Paul Mellon had come into the office on at least one occasion that I recall so actually it was not the first time I encountered Mellon. Another incident I recall was up here in New Haven during the construction, working with Louis Kahn and inspecting the work down in the excavation. Toward lunch time, we had some time off, so Louis Kahn and I walked over across the street to the A&A building. The A&A building is the Art & Architectural building designed by Paul Rudolph. That’s where the fire had occurred several years before. Kahn walked up to the entry door and put his hand on the walls of the building with its famous, vertical, chipped striations. He rubbed his hands up and down on the rough wall and then said something with an off-color tone that I will not put in the record, something very disparaging about both the building and its architect. Please know, Kahn had a Chaucerian streak in his personality, to employ a British metaphor. On another occasion, I think it was later the same day; we finished our work at the construction site, and whatever else we had to do in New Haven, and went back on the Amtrak train to Philadelphia. It was I, Lou Kahn, and Arthur Owen. We traveled down from New Haven to New York City, and when we pulled in at Penn Station Kahn said to Arthur, “Would you please get off the train and go up to the main concourse to the liquor store and buy me a bottle of Tanqueray Gin?” Tanqueray was his favorite gin. That is a fact that probably the scholars don’t even know. After a moment’s reflection, Kahn sent Arthur, probably because he was a rather spry little guy and younger than me. I was in my thirties but Arthur was maybe twenty-five or twenty-six. He was just a little more nimble than I was. And so Arthur said, “OK,” and got off the train and went up to the concourse where the liquor store was, leaving us waiting for him at our seats. As it was we waited patiently, but no Arthur. Finally, as the train was just about to pull off, Arthur leaped onto the car and joined us at our booth. So it happened that we traveled back to Philadelphia from New York City drinking Tanqueray Gin out of the little conical paper cups that one could find then at the water coolers on the Amtrak trains.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Oh, wow.
DAVID TRAUB: I guess by the time we got back to Philadelphia, we were feeling pretty good. So those are some of the stories that I recall.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Well, thank you for those amusing anecdotes. That was really fascinating. We'll move on to the next set of questions. So the Center's building is part of the Yale and New Haven community and its facade is integrated into the life of Chapel Street. How did accessibility and visibility figure into Kahn's design?
DAVID TRAUB: Oh, sure. When you say accessibility, do you mean for handicapped people, or just a sense of a welcoming entry?
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: I was thinking more of the latter, but either way.
DAVID TRAUB: Handicap requirements?
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: No, no, in terms of—
DAVID TRAUB: Of course the idea was to incorporate stores on the ground floor. There was some skepticism initially, but the city of New Haven wanted that arrangement so as not to lose their tax base—that information is well known—and Kahn readily accepted the idea. Kahn was a city boy. He loved the city, its nature and flavor. So the idea of having shops was something that wasn’t anathema to him. The idea served to welcome people to the museum and to make the City of New Haven happy. The building’s visibility? Well, it is hard to miss. I liken the YCBA to a big, urban chunk of a structure such as a typical mercantile building that you might find in any New England town, say in Rutland, Vermont.
View of the YCBA at the corner of Church and Chapel Streets
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: OK. Thank you. Was the building's integration within the wider New Haven community important?
DAVID TRAUB: It was. Just as I've said, the YCBA is a big, urban block that can be found on the main street, not only in New England, but across America. It fits its urban context. It is rather plain in its design, and that assists it in blending in. I will speak to that point a little later. [37:21] For now I will say it's an urban type building, and serves well the function of being a player in the drama of the city.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Thank you. Can you tell us a bit about the Center's architectural style and how it aligns with Kahn's work?
DAVID TRAUB: Continuing along the same line, I believe in the array of Kahn's work it is a very unusual design. Considering the exterior alone, it is the most “metallic” of all his buildings. There's no building that I'm aware of in which he uses so much metal, that is the stainless steel panels applied to the facade. There is no brick and hardly any masonry materials otherwise. Of course, there's the concrete structural frame. The exterior of the building is a grid of concrete columns and beams infilled with the metal panels and glass. The façade presents no particularly memorable imagery to the viewer. The windows are not composed in any discernible visual pattern. They appear where they need to be in relation to the function of the building inside. That’s very unusual for a Kahn building. Usually there is a very definite, deliberate design of the building’s openings and fenestration. The Chapel Street facade really seems to have no particular conscious organization. It is not symmetrical in its composition. Most of his buildings have some kind of symmetrical order about them. Yes, the interior of the building is symmetrical, along the longitudinal, the long axis, from end to end. But cutting it the short way, laterally, there is a lack of symmetry. Moreover, it’s not one of Kahn’s buildings which is an addition or accretion of separate units or elements. The Richardson Medical Center in Philadelphia,6 the Trenton Bath House, and Salk7 are composed of separate elements that connect. The Kimbell Art Museum is composed of separate pavilions, in a very ordered composition. The Mellon, as I said, is just one big block of a building, a big urban chunk. So it's very atypical in the array of Kahn's work. The entry at the corner is unusual. One would expect the entry to be in the center of the building, or at one of the two ends. But the corner entry works well enough. It's Kahn's last major work, and perhaps his most unusual, most unexpected one.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: OK. Great. Thank you for that. The Center has been described as a work of art to house works of art. How would you describe the building?
DAVID TRAUB: As I was telling you off the cuff, it's true that this museum is a work of art in the sense that architecture is one of the arts. That the building is a work of art perhaps goes without saying. Painting is an art, as are sculpture, dance, drawing, and music. But that doesn't mean it's a good work of art. But I would maintain that the Yale Center for British Art is a fine piece of art and architecture as a building housing Paul Mellon’s incredible collection. Going back to your first question, the great big chunky block of a building, rectangular in plan and rather plain on the outside, but articulated and sculpted on the inside, presents a pathway, a procession from the corner entry into the great, high courtyard, through to the elevator lobby, then into an ante room before the circular stair and then finally up the stair proceeding to the smaller, less tall, but still grand court on the second floor. There is majesty to this architectural procession that I think captivates all the visitors. And I imagine for all the people who work in the building. There is a genius in the idea of the oak paneling set in contrast to the concrete frame. The oak gives a lighter feeling to the otherwise weighty concrete. The design evokes the feeling of an English manor house, achieving Paul Mellon’s intention. [43:18] The recent renovations are spectacular in terms of fulfilling an idea of what Kahn would have liked to have accomplished in a renovation.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Well, I guess you've kind of started answering this question, but I'll just ask it anyway in case you want to add more. Can you tell us more about the building's materials and how these materials are reflective of Kahn’s style?
DAVID TRAUB: As I said, the building is atypical in the array of Kahn's architectural designs. Again, it's the most “metallic” of his buildings. Most of his buildings are masonry or concrete. I cannot think of another of his buildings that is so flat and plain on the outside, except perhaps the Yale Art Gallery across the street. From the very beginning, he had the idea of employing mill finish stainless steel. Mill finish means that it doesn't really have a particular finish; it's just the way the steel is produced in the plant, as it comes off the rollers. He was looking for what he called a “pewter-like” finish. He wanted the façade of the building to reflect the play of light as it changes through the course of the day. It was his idea of the “moth and the butterfly.” It's a moth on a cloudy day and a butterfly on a sunny day. And that effect was achieved with all its magic. The idea of the stainless steel panels, cladding the exterior of the building is unprecedented in his work. Where the idea came from is unknowable. For sure he used stainless steel before, but not to the extent to which he does at the YCBA. The oak paneling on the inside provides a sense of warmth in contrast to the stainless steel and exposed concrete columns and beams.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Yeah. OK. So just because one of the comments on the building is that it's been described as using these cold materials, such as the steel and the concrete, while still - the building still managing to exude warmth. And do you find that the building achieves that?
DAVID TRAUB: It does achieve that. Yes. As well there is a certain vigor, sturdiness, rigorous architectonic quality about the building. But together with that, it has a big, home-like character. Yet it is not Paul Mellon's drawing room in his townhouse on Park Avenue. It's a museum. It has grandeur, majesty. Those qualities. Of course as I said, the stainless steel panels are unprecedented in Kahn’s work, but the extensive use of flush oak panels was used before. They appear at the Kimbell Art Museum and also at Exeter.8 The Idea of the use of white oak didn't just pop into his mind at Yale. He had employed oak panels and oak trim with its characteristic details in his earlier work. But it was something he further developed, and really turned it into a larger idea at the YCBA.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: OK, great. We'll switch a little bit in terms of topic to think about the lighting. How does the Center's natural and artificial light complement the building's materials?
DAVID TRAUB: Earlier I talked about the outside, the play of light on the “pewter-like” stainless steel panels, and the moth on cloudy days and the butterfly on sunny days. And so that's the outside, but inside, light pours down through the skylights into the two courtyards and plays over the oak panels, bringing out their warmth. The concrete is further enhanced by that touch of natural light that skims over its surface. Natural illumination from the skylights flows down through the interior and “lights up” the building, one can say. [48:05]
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: To what extent were the positioning and lighting of paintings considered in the design of the building?
DAVID TRAUB: I think they were to an extent. I know for a fact that in one of Kahn's initial drawings he shows the George Stubbs painting, pretty much where it is now hung in the courtyard. So I suspect that he had to have considered the positioning of some of the paintings in the design of the building.—I don't really know for sure to what extent the positioning of the paintings in total was pre-planned. But I would imagine that he had discussions with Paul Mellon, Jules Prown9 and Henry Berg10, as they planned the various rooms where the paintings were to be positioned. But I really don't know the details of that discourse.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: OK.
DAVID TRAUB: I think a lot of those decisions were made curatorially after the building was finished. But the Stubbs painting, where it is now, is shown in one of his earlier drawings. For sure, Louis Kahn loved the paintings of George Stubbs. He often mentioned how much he admired them in the course of our work together in the Philadelphia office.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Wonderful. So lighting conditions in the Center can vary depending on the time of day or year and even the weather. Was this factored into color and material choices, for example, for the linen or carpet, wood for the trim?
DAVID TRAUB: I believe that Kahn desired light toned materials. I recall he talked about wanting linen wall coverings with their characteristic light shade. Also the same for carpeting. Of course the white oak is just that, tending toward a light tonality. He wanted light materials so that the building would be well illuminated by the natural sunlight streaming down from above. I don't think there's any question about that. Needless to say, light was very important to him, and he wanted the materials to be receptive to the entry of natural light. In the Master Class and also in the office he would often lecture us: “Gentlemen, it's imperative that you as architects know the ’facts of light’. You must understand the vagaries of light as it enters a building in the course of the day.”
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: So this was part of your study?
DAVID TRAUB: Yes, the “facts of light.”
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Wonderful. Thank you. Can you tell us how the light-suffusing cassettes were selected and installed and whether Kahn had a role in these decisions?
DAVID TRAUB: Yes. I know that Kahn worked very closely with Richard Kelly.11 Richard Kelly came to the office several times having discussions with Kahn that led to preliminary drawings for the skylights, or cassettes, on the roof. However, to my knowledge, the details were not resolved at the time of his death. Many of the decisions, I believe were made during construction, when Pellecchia and Meyers took over the completion of the building. I know that Kahn was very intent on arriving at a good solution and worked very hard with Kelly. But it was never finalized, at least while I was in the office. Now, at the Kimbell Art Museum, Richard Kelly also worked on the light fixtures that played an important part in the design of that building. But at the Kimbell, the design of the skylights was finalized while Kahn was alive.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: The Center's wood trim resembles that found in the Kimbell Art Museum, another building designed by Kahn and which has been mentioned in this conversation, and which you also worked on. Was this resemblance intentional, and who made decisions regarding choice of wood finish at the Yale Center for British Art? [52:26]
DAVID TRAUB: Yes. As I said before, the white oak paneling, trim, doors and other elements were used at Kimball and Exeter and in other of his buildings, incidentally including his residential work. And so there was a process of evolution and development finally culminating in his work here at the YCBA. It must be said that those decisions were Kahn's, as were all decisions. He selected the white oak paneling. He selected the stainless steel panels. He selected every door knob, light switch, the carpeting. The details of lighting were all subject to his review. Kahn made all the decisions to the extent possible. Every matter was presented to him for his review, criticism and final decision-making. Louis I. Kahn was the total designer in every sense. To a great extent, everyone who worked in the office was really just a draftsman. And draftsmen are indeed very important. Here's another anecdote. It's tough to omit this one in the context of our discussion where we are at this particular moment. Shifting from Kahn to Frank Lloyd Wright -the famous architect of another generation, let me tell this story. Some years ago, Frank Lloyd Wright came to this university, Yale, to give a lecture to the architecture students. Wright talked on and on, and finally started speaking about draftsmanship. He said, “To be a great architect, first, you must be a great draftsman. (pause) I am a great draftsman!” But let me say, Louis Kahn was also a great draftsman in the general sense of the word. He could draw. You've seen some of his artwork, perhaps? I certainly hope so. He was indeed a great draftsman and talented artist. From childhood on he drew. And then he transferred that skill in drawing to his architectural work - beautiful renderings and illustrations. So like Frank Lloyd Wright, Louis I. Kahn was a great draftsman, and I admire that. I am not a great draftsman, but I have strived to be a good one. Kahn would say drawing is the basis of all the visual arts. “The sculptor draws to sculpt. The painter draws to paint. The architect draws to build.” That’s what he would say. So drawing, draftsmanship in architecture, is paramount. And we were all draftsmen in the office, serving Kahn as the ultimate master draftsman. Incidentally, in Italian, the word for " to draw” and “to design” is the same word: disegnare. So to draw is to design.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: I like that. According to press releases and other early documents regarding Kahn's commission, the Center was to be housed in a sort of human and humane building. If you have an opinion about this, in what ways does the building's architecture address this brief?
DAVID TRAUB: As I said earlier, the building does have a home-like, intimate quality, though paradoxically, it has the grand spaces, the tall courtyards. Somehow it achieves in employing the wood paneling, with their warmth, a certain domestic quality, the sort of thing I think Paul Mellon wanted - a reflection of his home in Virginia or his townhouse on Park Avenue in New York City. I think that anything that's truly home-like is humane. We want our houses to have a human quality, first and foremost. So in its way I think the British Arts Center achieves that without losing a certain monumentality. I believe that in the building’s program, what you term the brief, an impulse toward monumentality was discouraged. Jules Prown, I understand, just didn't want to see that, nor did I believe Paul Mellon. But nevertheless, the building with its two tall courtyards has a monumental spirit. Still, the monumental too is human—it's a human trait. The human being wants to be heroic. He wants vigor and stature and height. We all want to stand tall. And the building does stands tall, and to that extent expresses a human and humane aspect. [58:19]
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: That was well put. Thank you. So today you have visited the Center. Thank you again for coming all the way here. So you've had a chance to go over the building and review it. What do you most admire about the building, its architecture and its location, and have your thoughts and opinions changed over time?
DAVID TRAUB I think I have come to admire it more. I recall that many staff members, including myself were puzzled with the unprecedented sense of composition, at least on the exterior, with concrete, metal panels and glass as materials, employed exclusively. We all wondered where was Kahn going with it. The building is so unusual in the context of Kahn’s other work. It's certainly not like the Richards and the Salk, or the buildings in Ahmedabad or Bangladesh with their masonry arches. It's not like the Exeter or the Bryn Mawr dormitory. What exactly is it? When I actually came up here upon its completion in the late 1970s, I was thrilled to see that it really achieved success as a work of art to house works of art. And then coming here today, seeing the renovations, Cecie12 showed us, I was very pleased with what's been done here under her direction. The building is even more beautiful.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: I'm sure she would be pleased to hear that. How did your work with Kahn and the Center impact your future career?
DAVID TRAUB: I think one of the most important takeaways from the experience studying with Kahn, in his Master Class, and working in his office, was his idea of “the room,” which flows through his work, and I believe much of my work. I can show you some examples later if you would like. But the idea of the individual room enclosed and illuminated in a way natural to its shape, that's something that I have found very influential in the unfolding of my work over the years. I'm not an architect of the universal space of Mies van der Rohe,13 I like to separate my spaces into discrete realms, like Kahn did. Here at the Mellon you have the twenty-foot square modules on the upper floors, which are really room-like spaces reinforced by the pogo panels14 set on their periphery. The columns connected with travertine bands inserted into the floor create a defined precinct for the inset carpeting. So, each twenty-foot square module, though not enclosed with fixed partitions, remains a room-like space. That’s something in my own work that has been very important. My work also embodies a certain geometric rigor, a clarity of plan that was typical of Kahn's work. The importance of the admittance natural light into my spaces is something I have emphasized as well. Recently, I designed an art museum for La Salle University in Philadelphia and have followed Kahn's approach, placing the galleries on the upper floor, all illuminated by skylights, and the ancillary facilities underneath on the ground floor - the offices, the library, the auditorium, the workspaces where they receive light from windows, as the do here at the YCBA.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Well, thank you so much for the generosity of your time to be here with us. I do want to give you the opportunity, if there's anything we haven't addressed in this interview that you'd like to talk about, any architectural features of the building, or just your experiences with Kahn, any final anecdotes before we stop recording. [1:03:35]
DAVID TRAUB Yes, I wanted to talk a little bit about the stainless steel handrail in the main stair. When I was in Kahn's office, I observed that he struggled mightily with the specific design of that handrail. He never could quite articulate what he wanted, or maybe it was that we could not comprehend what he was saying. As well, he was unable to provide a sketch that the staff could translate into a more finished drawing that he might approve. It seemed he had something in his mind, but was unable to communicate it. I sense that he conceived of the handrail, as a sparkling jewel within the overall building. Built of concrete and infilled with wood, it was for this stainless steel jewel to add a spiritual center to the building. But that was never accomplished in his lifetime. I believe the men and women who completed the building, as hard as they tried, were never able to achieve what they imagined Kahn would have liked. I think they did their best, and what's there is really very good. It is successful, but I believe it's not exactly what Kahn aspired to. So that's something very interesting.
Several years ago, I visited another Kahn building, the Fort Wayne Center for Performing Arts in Fort Wayne, Indiana. That building is very different from the Yale Center. The front facade of the Performing Arts Center is built of red brick including a concrete structural element (There are no metal panels.) Kahn employs the brick to create a composition of arches, somewhat reminiscent of his work in Ahmedabad and Dacca. It presents what many people think of as a face, a mask evoking the sense of theater. It is in fact a theater. The facade presents a very ordered image in contrast to the YCBA Chapel Street façade which it has no particular discernible visual organization certainly in comparison to the Fort Wayne. At the YCBA the windows dance across facade determined by the function on the inside. So that's another reason why the YCBA is so unique in the spectrum of Kahn's buildings. I believe I have followed the Fort Wayne approach more in my own work instead of the YCBA approach. Incidentally, most of my projects are of red brick and some have a face-like facade. Interestingly, the word facade is related to the word face. That's been an important takeaway, not so much from the—the Yale Center project—but rather from Kahn’s work otherwise. But the biggest takeaway for me from the YCBA, then again, is how Kahn expressed there the idea of the room, the separate room – “the place of the mind.” So I will end my interview with that idea of Kahn’s – the room, “the place of the mind.” Thank you very much for inviting me, and it's been a great pleasure participating in this interview, the Oral History Project.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: We were really honored to have you join us today. Thank you so much, David.
DAVID TRAUB: You're welcome. [1:07:53]
[END OF PART I RECORDING]
[BEGINNING OF PART II RECORDING]
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: My name is Stéphanie Machabée. I am here with David Traub. The date is December 14th, 2021. This is an additional anecdote from David for our previous interview.
DAVID TRAUB: As I said, Kahn in his nature had a spiritual dimension, which he often expressed in mystical or poetical language. The mysticism is evident in his writings and the many talks he delivered. (“Material is spent light.”) Kahn wasn't religious in the strict sense of the word, but he possessed a fundamental religiosity: reverence, devotion, the desire to search for the meaningful. To illustrate that, I will relate an experience I had with him in the Master Class at the University of Pennsylvania. We had just completed a semester design project; perhaps it was for the “Place of Well Being.” At the completion of the project, as always, there was a panel of critics, the jury. That jury consisted of Penn faculty luminaries in 1964-65 – Louis Kahn, Robert Venturi,15 Romaldo Giurgola,16 Robert Le Ricolais,17 and Ian McHarg 18. At the jury, I put my drawing up on the wall for all to see. Kahn came over and looked at it; gazed upon it for a few moments, scratched his chin, and said, “Traub, I don't see any religion in your work.” And I think by that he meant a fundamental devotion to the spirit in my design work. I certainly don't hold that remark against him. I took it seriously. I do strive to put religion into my work. That impulse is something that I took away from studying with Kahn in the Master Class and working with him in the office – his demonstrated devotion, dedication, discipline, and hard work. It was common for him to work until three or four o'clock in the morning, or later. One time I was with him on such an occasion working into the wee hours. Eventually I became exhausted, and went home to get some sleep and a bit of breakfast. Returning to the office about 8:00 am, I found Louis Kahn already at the drawing board. I will never know if he went home or had stayed there all night. I had heard that oftentimes he would work to four o'clock in the morning, or later, and then go home. His house on Clinton Street wasn't far from the office. Maybe he would get an hour's sleep. His wife Esther would fix him breakfast, and he'd be back at the office by 7:30 or earlier. So there was that religious sense of devotion to his work. There's no question about that. It’s something that's admirable and something that's inspired me throughout my working career.
STEPHANIE MACHABEE: Wonderful. Thank you so much for adding that. [3:33]
Appendix
The following are anecdotes that were not included in the interview at Yale. The memory of these
events only came to me after returning to Philadelphia from New Haven.
On one of our trips to New Haven to supervise the construction of the YCBA, upon return to Philadelphia, Lou Kahn and I, just the two of us, stopped by my house at 2412 Waverly Street in the Fitler Square neighborhood of Philadelphia. I do not recall whether we traveled back by plane, as we sometimes did, or by train; nor do I remember what prompted me to invite Lou to my house. That house was a typical, two-story, brick rowhouse with a small circular stair leading to the second floor, a common feature of those structures. I can remember now, as if yesterday, Lou sitting at the bottom of the stair on one of the angled treads. Kahn looked out across the living space seemingly with pleasure as I know he had affection for such houses which he had known from childhood. His eyes finally settled on a painting hanging on the wall I owned by the Ukrainian-American artist Peter Krasnow (1886-1979). Kahn immediately began speaking glowingly about the painting. Its imagery seemed to resonate with him in an unmistakable way, as if something about it touched his inner core.
Continuing our interchange, I mentioned to him that there was an architect living next door at 2414 Waverly Street. That architect was Santo Lipari. When I mentioned that name, Lou lit up with words of admiration for Santo whom he had worked with in some capacity in the past. Santo Lipari was apparently a man whom Kahn held in high esteem.
I don’t exactly recall when, but on one occasion upon returning from New Haven, I escorted Lou back to his house on the 900 block of Clinton Street, one considerably larger than mine. Riding back with Kahn in a taxi south on Broad Street before turning off on to Pine Street toward Clinton, Lou commented disparagingly that the tall buildings petered out in their intensity as they marched down Broad Street south from City Hall. He went on to say that the tight cluster of skyscrapers in Pittsburgh, at the triangular point where the two rivers conjoin, present a more dramatic image in their compact configuration.
These are memories I hold dear.
David S. Traub AIA Emeritus
2005 Cambridge Street
Philadelphia, PA 19130
215-915-6627
1 Architect John Eden “Jack” Thrower (1939–2019).
2 Actual Louis Kahn quote
3 17th President of Yale University, serving from 1963-1977.
4 Staff member working on YCBA in Louis Kahn’s Office.
5 At Yale University, now known as Rudolph Hall. Paul Rudolph was an American architect (1918–1997).
6 The Richards Medical Research Laboratories, located on the campus of the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia, designed by Louis Kahn.
7 Salk Institute for Biological Studies in La Jolla, California, designed by Louis Kahn.
8 Phillips Exeter Academy Library in Exeter, New Hampshire, designed by Louis Kahn.
9 Director of the Yale Center for British Art.
10 Assistant Director of the Yale Center for British Art.
11 Lighting consultant to the Yale Center for British Art.
12 Constance Clement, Former Deputy Director of the YCBA.
13 German-American architect, 1886–1969.
14 “Pogo” walls are moveable gallery partitions.
15 American architect (1925–2018), founding principal of the firm Venturi, Scott Brown and Associates.
16 Italian architect (1920–2016).
17 French structural engineer and theorist (1984–1977).
18 Scottish landscape architect (1920–2001).