The world’s top designers aren’t often associated with humility but a recent meeting with Polish-American architect Daniel Libeskind proved that this doesn’t have to be the case. Libeskind was in Milan for the first Global Elevator Exhibition at the invitation of Swiss multinational lift manufacturer Schindler. He was there to give a talk, moderated by yours truly, to a packed Fiera Milano auditorium.
Given the context, you would have been forgiven for assuming that he would be discussing all things big, brash and new. The event was titled “The Art of Shaping Cities: Architecture and the Future of Urban Living” and Libeskind had just visited a recently completed residential building that he had designed for the Citylife development in northwestern Milan, a neighbourhood that he had also master-planned. That project is centred around three skyscrapers designed by Zaha Hadid, Arata Isozaki and Libeskind. As successful as it had been, however, it was not high on his agenda. Boasting about his achievements simply isn’t his style. As he went through his presentation, two of his most prominent projects, the Jewish Museum Berlin and New York’s One World Trade Center, made his contribution to contemporary architecture self-evident.
“Memory is part of sustainability,” he told the captivated audience. “If you can’t remember something, it’s gone.” This idea, he said, applies just as much to his modest, affordable-housing project for senior citizens on Long Island, which opened in 2023, as it does to his projects of global importance. Entwined with the notion of memory, which Libeskind said should be mastered “like an art”, is the political role of designers – big-name architects included. While acknowledging the damage that can be done by the architect’s oversized ego, the humble Libeskind was emphatic about one thing. “Architecture is the most political of all professions,” he said. “I might be a star architect but I am not immune to the metropolis.”
We took a final question from the audience. It was, as is usually the case, the best question: which project did Libeskind believe was the best received in the place where it was built? Hardly pausing, he cited the words of a formerly homeless senior at that Long Island project, saying that it would always stick with him. “She simply could not believe that the house was designed for her,” he said.
David Plaisant is Monocle’s Rome correspondent. For more opinion, analysis and insight, subscribe to Monocle today so that you never miss an issue.