PAUL RUD LPH
Acknowledgments
13ll
' \ This booklet and the exhibi-
tion it accompanies are the
fourth in The Art Institute of
Chicago's Architecture in
Context series, which is in-
tended to highlight aspects
of architecture that
have not received sufficient
critical attention. The current
exhibition broadens that
focus by concentrating on
the current work of New York
architect Paul Rudolph, who,
admittedly, has been pro-
foundly influenced by Chica-
go architects Frank Lloyd
Wright and Ludwig Mies van
der Rohe and their French
counterpart, Le Corbusier.
Although Rudolph is well-
known for his important
modernist buildings of the
1960s and 19.70s, his current
work is comparatively un-
known . The purpose of this
exhibition is to redress that
oversight by presenting a
selection of drawings, more
than half of which represent
four of Rudolph 's recent pro-
jects - a mixed-use complex
and an apartment building,
both in Singapore, a pair of
office towers in Hong Kong,
and a corporate headquarters
in Jakarta. We are extremely
grateful to Paul Rudolph for
his enthusiasm and coopera-
tion in organizing this exhibi-
tion and for enabling the
Program
Chicago architectural com-
munity to learn more about
his work through this exhibi-
tion and his lecture at the
Graham Foundation.
We wish to thank Robert
Bruegmann, Associate Pro-
fessor of Architecture and
Art History at University of
Illinois at Chicago, for his
insightful essay and for work-
ing with Paul Rudolph to
select the drawings for inclu-
sion in the exhibition. We
also wish to thank Ronald
Chin, for coordinating the
organization of the exhibition
and publication in Rudolph's
office; Robert Sharp,
Associate Editor at the Art
Institute , for editing and
coordinating publication of
this booklet; and Susan
Johnson for her design of
this publication.
The exhibition, booklet,
and accompanying lecture
by Mr. Rudolph were jointly
sponsored by the Graham
Foundation for Advanced
Studies in the Fine Arts and
the Architecture Society Fel-
lows and the Department of
Architecture at The Art Insti-
tute of Chicago . We wish
especially to acknowledge
Carter H. Manny, Jr., Director
of the Graham Foundation,
for his continued support of
the Architecture in Context
exhibition series and for his
advice and support of the
Rudolph exhibition.
Pauline Saliga
Assistant Curator of
Architecture
The Art Institute of Chicago
Exhibition Front cover:
May 6-28, 1987, in the second- Overall perspective of a
corporate office building for
floor gallery of the Graham
Wisma Dharmala Sakti .
Foundation for Advanced Jakarta , Indonesia, 1982
Studies in the Fine Arts, [no. 29).
4 West Burton Place, Chicago.
Graham Foundation hours : Back cover:
Atrium perspective of a
Monday through Thursday,
corporate office building for
9:00 a.m. to 4:00 p .m . Wisma Dharmala Sakti ,
Jakarta , Indonesia , 1982
Lecture [no. 32) .
Paul Rudolph, "The Archi-
© 1987 Graham Foundation
tectural Space of Wright,
for Advanced Studies in the
Mies, and Le Corbusier," May Fine Arts and The Art Institute
6, 1987, the Graham Founda- of Chicago. All rights reserved.
tion Auditorium , 8:00 p .m. Printed in the United States
of America.
Previous Architecture in
Designed by
Context booklets are availa- Susan Johnson Design ,
ble in the Art Institute's Chicago , Ulinois.
Museum Shop:
Architecture in Context:
360 North Michigan Avenue
Architecture in Context:
The Avant-Garde in
Chicago's Suburbs, Paul
Schweikher and William
Ferguson Deknatel
Architecture in Context:
The Postwar American
Dream
 Robert Bruegmann
PAUL RUD LPH Four Recent Projects in Southeast Asia
I. Introduction
N o story in recent architecture is more compelling than
that of Paul Rudolph and his recent work in Southeast
Asia. On the one hand there is his towering figure and meteoric
career. From a small practice in Florida in the 1950s Rudolph's
talent for drawing, design, and teaching rocketed him by the late
1960s to the pinnacle of the architectural world. While he was
chairman of the School of Architecture at Yale University, his
major commissions were found on the pages of every architec-
tural journal. But as the architectural world started to undergo
fundamental changes in the 1970s and as modernism came under
attack , Paul Rudolph proved an oversized and irresistible target
to critics of modernism such as Robert Venturi. Refusing to accept
many of the basic assumptions of the new cultural climate,
Rudolph continued to work, though he did so increasingly on
commissions far from home and outside the spotlight of public-
ity. Now , in the late 1980s, almost 70 years old but still erect and
intensely involved in his work, Rudolph is tackling some of the
most challenging commissions of his career, and he is apparently
being rediscovered by a younger generation who see in him a
great master, a heroic figure who refused to capitulate to what
they see as the self-indulgent, permissive trends of the last two
decades.
The second main theme of this story is the collision of the
Western and non-Western architectural worlds. Since the
nineteenth century architects from Europe and America have
struggled with the problem of how to create buildings that are
fully modern by Western standards but also accommodate site
and climate as well as the cultural traditions of lands elsewhere
in the world. One extreme solution, the ultimate extension of
modernist ideas, was to reason that, since man's most basic needs
are everywhere similar and since modern engineering could
overcome almost all site and climate problems, a solution from
Berlin should be applicable, with only minor modification , in
Teheran or Manila. At the other extreme were those who in the
last few years have argued that local building traditions and ver-
nacular techniques are more appropriate than self-expression as
bases for design , and that, therefore, a building in the West
should look entirely different from a building in the non-Western
world. Needless to say, most architects have tried to chart a mid-
dle course between these extremes , but few observers would
claim that the results are usually satisfactory. When Rudolph's
teacher Walter Gropius, for example, proposed a mosque for
Damascus in the shape of a great onion dome, it seemed to many
observers more like a parody of the long Islamic tradition of
monumental architecture than an intelligent use of it. In the case
ofmultistoried office and commercial buildings in regions where
the vernacular consists mostly of frame dwellings, the problem
becomes even more acute. Thus , the case of Paul Rudolph in
Southeast Asia is especially interesting.
Resolutely modernist in his thinking, unyielding in his insis-
tence on working out his own architectural ideas, and totally
unsympathetic to the borrowing of applied historical motifs,
Rudolph has nevertheless throughout his career rejected the
minimalism of those he calls the "international stylists, " and he
has tried to accommodate his work to very specific sites and
contexts. The four projects featured in this exhibition are tes-
timony to the struggle of a committed modernist to adapt Western
modernism to the context of a totally different environment.
II. Paul Rudolph and his Career
Paul Marvin Rudolph was born in 1918 in Elkton, Kentucky , the
son of a Methodist minister. After attending a succession of
schools across the South, Rudolph studied architecture between
1935 and 1940 at the Alabama Polytechnique Institute in Auburn,
Alabama , and then entered the Harvard Graduate School of
Design in 1941 to work under Walter Gropius . After a stint in the
Navy between 1943 and 1946, he returned to Harvard to finish
his master's in architecture in 1947. Moving to Sarasota, Florida,
he practiced in partnership with Ralph Twitchell for four years
before starting his own practice in 1951. His early commissions
were primarily for houses and guest houses in the southern states
(fig. 1). While heavily influenced by the International Style
architecture he was exposed to at Harvard , Rudolph's houses
were marked by a lightness and airiness made possible by his
adventurous use of structure, new building techniques, and a
responsiveness to site achieved through the careful organization
of plan and the use of overhangs , sun screens, and louvers.
In the mid-1950s Rudolph received three prominent commis-
sions for works outside the South. One, for a United States
Embassy in Amman, Jordan , was not built , but two others - an
office building for Blue Cross-Blue Shield in Boston and the
Jewett Arts Center for Wellesley College - were constructed. In
all three cases Rudolph turned to a more complex, heavier, and
more monumental manner. Like Eero Saarinen, Rudolph was
among the first American modernist designers who attempted to
give their buildings something of the character of the older struc-
tures in their immediate context. At Wellesley, for example, the
siting of the building, intended to suggest a quadrangle , and the
elaboration of vertical elements in the structure and sun screens,
as well as the spiky silhouettes created by high skylights, were
obviously intended to give the building a feeling akin to the older
Gothic buildings around it. At Amman, his first encounter with
a non-Western site, the building's vaulted canopy was related to
the Arab tradition of double tents and was to be constructed
according to a local method using native limestone as a perma-
nent formwork for the reinforced concrete.
During his early years in practice, Rudolph was in demand as
a guest teacher at schools of architecture across the country. This,
in turn, led to the most conspicuous event in his early career, his
appointment in 1958 as chairman of the School of Architecture
at Yale University . During his brilliant but controversial chair-
manship (1958-65), he brought to the school a flood of new ideas
and many famous designers from around the world . At the same
time he produced a series of important commissions. The most
prominent single building was the Art and Architecture Building
at Yale (fig. 2). In that structure Rudolph provided one of the most
spectacular monuments of the movement in architecture in the
1960s away from the smooth minimalism that characterized
much of the work of the day. Like his colleagues Eero Saarinen
and Louis Kahn, Rudolph attempted to take the tenets of moder-
nism and push them further in an attempt to regain richness and
monumentality. In the A & A Building the large number of very
particular and complex spaces was in part a response to elements
in the program. In part they also represented an attempt to fuse
spatial and structural elements derived from Le Corbusier and
Frank Lloyd Wright, his favorite architects. The result was a com-
plex and aggressively monumental , if somewhat forbiddingly
complicated, building that more than held its own on its promi-
nent corner site. For many it was the prime symbol of the rejuve-
nation of modern architecture , but for others it represented all of
its arrogance and insensitivity.
While he continued to work on single buildings during his
years as chairman, Rudolph turned more and more to questions
of urbanism . His urban designs were marked by the same strenu-
ous effort to create spatial complexity and visual incident by
elaborating structure and program. For Boston, for example, he
designed, for a site across from City Hall, a governmental com-
plex (fig. 3) in which a ring of building extending out to the
sidewalk surrounded an elaborate interior plaza that swirled like
a pinwheel around a highrise tower (still unbuilt) that formed the
center of the composition. No longer a discrete element in the
cityscape, the building became a whole precinct. The furthest
extension of this urban thinking came with two schemes for
Lower Manhattan. In these projects, Rudolph tried to grapple
with the challenge posed by large-scale building pre-fabrication
and the mobile home , an element that , while it loomed larger and
larger on the American landscape, was largely rejected out of
hand by other serious designers as aesthetically unacceptable.
Instead of turning his back on the challenge of the idea of the
mobile home, Rudolph accepted it as a new vernacular incor-
porating all necessary elements of structure and services . He
call ed it the "twentieth-century urban brick." In his Graphic Arts
Center project (fig. 4) on the west side of Manhattan he explored
the idea of hanging individual pre-fabricated units in giant fixed
frames . In his Lower Manhattan Expressways project he
envisioned an even larger megastructure that accommodated
transportation and utilities and allowed for considerable growth
and change.
 When the heady years of the 1960s came to an end in the eco-
nomic woes and retrenchments of the 1970s, Rudolph's earnest
manner and aggressive style came to look anachronistic, and the
magazines turned to the ironic, anti-heroic manner of Robert
Venturi and Charles Moore . Rudolph, however, continued to
uphold the modernist commitment to rational problem-solving
and reacted strongly against the move to recapture public mean-
ing by reusing literally the forms of historic architecture. Aban-
doning the fireworks of the megastructures , he continued to pro-
duce a steady stream of complex, weighty buildings in the United
States and abroad . Received indifferently for the most part in the
architectural press, projects like the Daiei Building in Nagoya ,
Japan , the William R. Canon Chapel at Emory University, and his
own apartment in New York City gave evidence of a doggedly
persistent quest for an architecture whose richness came not from
applied ornament but from the spatial complexities developed
from structure and the three-dime.nsional elaboration of the
program . .

Fig. 1
Guest house fo r Dr. and Mrs. W. W.
Walker, Sanibel Island , Florida , 1952.

Fig. 2
Secti on perspective of the Art and
Architecture Building, Yale Univer-
sity, New Haven, Connecticut , 1958.

Fig. 3
Isometric perspecti ve of the Boston
Governm ent Service Center, Boston,
Massachusetts, 1962 [no. 12).

Fig. 4
Secti on of th e Graphic Arts Center.
New York . 1967 [no. 15).
III. Four Recent Projects in Southeast Asia

Largely ignored by major clients in America's big cities, Rudolph Fig. 5

has found his most important clients ofrecent years in Southeast Aerial perspecti ve of a res idential-
offi ce-shopping complex , Singapore,
Asia. In the four projects presented in this exhibition , as in most
1979 [no. 19).
of his recent work, Rudolph has acted as design consultant rather
than as architect. Because of this arrangement he has been able Fig. 6
to keep his office small and to concentrate on the one thing that Atrium perspecti ve of a res identi al-
interests him , design, leaving many of the problems of local offi ce-shopping complex , Singapore,
1979 (no. 20).
building regulations , engineering, and construction supervision
to local firms. This arrangement, however, also makes it difficult
to keep control over all details of the projects, and it necessitates
frequent and grueling trips to Asia to meet with clients, contrac-
tors, and local architects. While work on the first project dis-
cussed below has been temporarily halted because of an eco-
nomic slump in Singapore, construction of the other three pro-
jects was nearing completion in spring 198 7.
The largest project, along a major commercial thoroughfare in
Singapore, is a mixed-use complex whose total floor area is
divided equally among commercial, office , and residential uses
(fig. 5). The commission was received in 1979 as a result of one
of the famous competitions used by the Singapore government
to select developers for prime sites . Dubbed Beach Road I by
Rudolph's office , the complex contains underground parking, a
large shopping atrium recalling the atria of John Portman's early
hotels , which Rudolph greatly admires ; a low "village of offices "
set on top of the podium created by the commercial portion; and
a 45-story tower containing offices below and residential units
above. Constructed , like all four of his Southeast Asia projects ,
of reinforced concrete, the complex is sheathed in ceramic tile 5
to protect the concrete from humidity .
The entire complex is characterized by the use of dynamic
asymmetry . Instead of putting the tower on top of the podium ,
the usual practice in this kind of complex, Rudolph positioned
it in a location eccentric to the shopping atrium and outdoor
plaza so that the visitor can read it as a self-sufficient unit, inter-
twined with the podium but clearly rising on its own co lumns
and shading the plaza at its base , an important feature in the trop-
ical climate. The pinwheeling interaction of parts is continued
in the shopping atrium where the exposed elevator rises off-cen-
ter in the space (fig . 5) ; in the outdoor plaza , which swirls around
the base of the tower; and in the tower itself, where the residential
units , deeply eroded in their massing to permit the mandatory
exterior exposure of kitchens and bathrooms , seem to rotate
around the structural system. In fact , Rudolph has described the
complex as a " whirling dervish ."
The second of the four projects is an apartment complex for
Pontiac Land Private Limited (called Grange Road in Rudolph 's 6
office), also located in Singapore (fig . 7) . Commissioned by a
Chinese family , the building is again made of reinforced concrete
but here it is protected by a masonry paint. The Grange Road
building is divided into four quadrants each beginning and end-
ing at a different elevation. The most striking visual feature of the
exterior of Grange Road is a series of projecting blocks cantile-
vered well forward of the structural columns (fig. 8). Inverting the
usual logic found in buildings in cooler climates where the pub-
 lie rooms are pushed to the perimeter, these nearly windowless Fig. 7
blocks contain the bedrooms and private elements of the apart- Grange Road Condominium , under
construction , Singapore, 1987.
ments and shade the balconies and glassy walls of the more reces-
sed living and dining areas. At the top of the building are a Fig. 8
number of spectacular multilevel penthouse units with elaborate Frontal perspective of Grange Road
vertical penetrations of space allowing views through the house Condominium , Singapore, 1980
to gardens, pools, and balconies. The piling up of units is (no. 25).

intended by the architect to create a "village in the sky," in some

ways similar to French or Italian hill towns.
The third commission, for a pair of office towers in Hong Kong,
was given to Rudolph after foundations had already been poured
for an earlier scheme by a different architect for previous owners.
Although the buildings were nearly identical in exterior treat-
ment, one was to have been about 10% larger than the other in
plan. Disturbed by what he considered an incongruous relation-
ship between the towers , Rudolph m_anaged to persuade the new
owners - two families from Hong Kong, one family from Singa-
pore, one ·from Japan, and one representative of the People's
Republic of China - to spend a considerable amount of money
offsetting the foundations on the larger structure so the two
towers would match. The architect was unable, however, to con-
vince the clients to use an early scheme that incorporated bridges
between the two structures (fig. 9), because one of the families
also owned textile companies in Indonesia and felt that the
bridges too closely resembled those of his factories there. In a
sharp departure from his usual practice with concrete buildings ,
Rudolph chose to cover the two structures completely with a cur-
tain wall of painted aluminum and grey glass (fig. 10), perhaps
in an attempt to have his building hold its own amidst a prolifer-
ation of glassy buildings around it.
The final project, in Jakarta, was commissioned by the
Dharmala Corporation, a prominent Indonesian firm that, among
its many activities, exports tea and coffee, imports motorcycle
parts, and develops land. Of all the work in Southeast Asia, the
Jakarta project is clearly the most ambitious and the one closest
to Rudolph 's heart. Unlike his mixed-use project in Singapore
and the office towers in Hong Kong, the Jakarta building is not a
speculative venture but is intended as a corporate headquarters
and a monument to the company (fig. 11). It exhibits the same
kind of swirling geometry seen at Beach Road I. Wrapped around
an open courtyard is a podium containing a garage, exhibition
space, and a bank. Spiralling up from the outdoor area and
podium, the floors of the office tower, each with its wide over-
hangs, rotate around the structural columns creating a complex
interweaving (figs. 12, 13).
The outwardly splaying shape of the spandrel panels, which
also form the terrace parapets , was based on roof forms found in
indigenous houses in Indonesian villages. Reinterpreted in rein-
forced concrete, the overhangs shield the glass walls of the office
below from the sun. On the inside, the position of the elevators
at one corner of the plan and the off-center cores, containing fire
stairs, toilets , and special Muslim washing facilities , allow
dramatically different kind of spaces on different floors as the
floors rotate around the structural columns (figs. 14 , 15).

8
Fig. 9 Fig. 11
Perspective of alternative design of an Overall perspective of a corporate
office building. Hong Kong, 1984. office building, Jakarta , 1982 [no. 29).

Fig. 10
Overall perspective of an office build-
ing. Hong Kong, 1984 [no. 36).

11
..;

-
- ,.

10
Fig. 12
Elevation of a corporate office build-
ing, Jakarta, 1982 .

Fig. 13
of a corporate office building,
Jakarta , 1982.

Fig. 14
Ground level floor plan of a corporate
office bui ldi ng, Jakarta, 1982.

Fig. 15
Atrium perspective of a corporate
office building, Jakarta, 1982 (no. 32).

12 13

I .
\
' ..
.
-

14

15
IV. Rudolph and Southeast Asia
How do these four projects deal with their sites and the cultural
environment of Southeast Asia? At first glance they seem to have
little that is specifically Asian in imagery and a great deal that is
recognizably like Rudolph's earlier work in the United States .
The most immediately conspicuous feature of all of them is the
complex three-dimensional rotation and interpenetration of ele-
ments molded out of concrete, a feature that has characterized
much of Rudolph's work since the 1960s. The Grange Road pro-
ject recalls the stacked units of the Graphic Arts Center, for exam-
ple, while the configuration of the Beach Road project harks back
to the forms of the Boston Government Service Center.
It is, however, undeniable that the local conditions played a
major role. All four projects incorporate substantial areas of
unenclosed outdoor plaza space, terraces, and balconies - wel-
come features in warm climates. Three of the four use heavy pro-
jecting elements to shade other parts of the complex. Certainly
Rudolph was also constrained by important local economic and
political realities . In an area like Southeast Asia, where manufac-
tured materials are relatively expensive and labor relatively inex-
pensive, it makes sense to use inexpensive concrete and then to
have workmen shape it into elaborate configurations. The
remarkably strict Singapore building by-laws are another kind of
restraint. Because they are based in part on American laws pro-
mulgated during the heyday of postwar modernism, the Singa-
pore laws incorporate a number of features that are fast being
abandoned in the United States: for example, the setback require-
ments that make it all but necessary to create freestanding towers,
a solution Rudolph considers antithetical to successful
urbanism. Even outside Singapore where the laws are not as
stringent, the tradition of modern Western architecture has led
Rudolph to design isolated towers along the street. The result,
regretted by the architect, is that each of these projects is largely
inward looking and self-sufficient, with the tower near the mid-
dle of the site and making little gesture toward its immediate
neighbors .
Although he has, in all four projects, clearly responded to the
physical realities of the sites, it is primarily in the Jakarta build-
ing that Rudolph appears to try to engage in any kind of dialogue
with the vernacular tradition of the place. At first glance the
approach seems almost contradictory. Although Rudolph incor-
porates forms derived from Indonesian village architecture, it
could well be argued that , reinterpreted in concrete and used on
an air-conditioned highrise, these forms have little to do with
their prototypes. Furthermore, although Rudolph did see some
local village architecture, he would be the first to admit that he
had neither the time nor the interest to make a thorough study of
the subject.
What was the intention? When he speaks of the Jakarta build-
ing, Rudolph obviously relishes the response it has gotten:
This building in Jakarta is being received extremely well
because people instinctively understand that it has to do with
their climate, etc. I don 't mean just architects and engineers.
Their equivalent of Time magazine, for instance , ran a marvel-
ous thing on it. .. . Architects and others talk till it comes out
of their ears about a national identity from an architectural
viewpoint. They see in this building a step in that direction .
But then Rudolph characteristically throws in an immediate
disclaimer:
I don 't see it that way; I see it purely as a response to a climate
and the feeling of an accommodating environment.t
While he was willing to use the Indonesian examples as a point
of departure for his own imaginative use of the forms, Rudolph
obviously rejects the notion that he is obliged to use these or any
other elements from this tradition to make them meaningful to
local inhabitants. It is in fact apparent that however much the
Jakarta building yields to site and to local economic and cultural
restraints , it remains in the end very much a personal statement
of its designer, a personal exploration of certain ideas about struc-
ture , space, and light that have obsessed Rudolph from his first
commissions. The Jakarta building, like much of Rudolph's
recent work, will probably be criticized by proponents of "con-
textualism" as just another isolated tower, related neither to its
current context, a street lined with slick glass towers, nor to trad-
itional architecture. But the Jakarta building will probably be
criticized equally from the opposite standpoint. Rudolph also
refuses to justify his form from the modernist functional-techni-
cal viewpoint. He is not at all interested in anonymous teamwork
producing the most efficient and least expensive building possi-
ble nor in breaking new ground in technology the way Norman
Foster's enormously influential Bank of Hong Kong and Shan-
ghai does. The Jakarta building is not up-to-the-minute in plan,
structure, or equipment. It uses fairly standard parts and a rela-
tively low-tech , labor-intensive structure.
In the end, it is this obstinate estrangement from both these cur-
rently ascendant movements that is so compelling. In no build-
ings being produced today does the insistence on the preroga-
tives of the individual creator play such a major role. Rudolph ,
virtually alone among major American architects , still functions
like Ayn Rand's character Howard Roark in Th e Fountainhead:
solitary, seemingly unmindful of public acclaim or condemna-
tion , harkening to the voice within. Whether judged successful
or not, these four projects in Southeast Asia undoubtedly con-
stitute one of the boldest attempts seen anywhere in the world
today to maintain the spirit of modernism without sacrificing the
possibility for the untrammeled personal expression of architec-
tural art.
tlnterview conducted by the author with Paul Rudolph in 1986; transcription ava il-
able in the Ryerson and Burnham Libraries of The Art Institute of Chicago.
 Checklist of the Exhibition
All dimensions are in centi-
meters , width preceding height.
All drawings are lent by Paul
Rudolph , Architect.
1. Interior perspective of a guest
house for Mr. and Mrs . Healy,
Siesta Key, Florida , 1948.
Ink on vellum, 56 x 43 cm.
2. Exterior perspective of a resi-
dence for Mr. and Mrs. Eugene
Knott , Yankeetown, Florida, 1952.
Mylar print, 140 x 79 cm.
3. Exterior perspective of a resi-
dence for Mr. and Mrs. David
Cohen, Siesta Key, Florida, 1952.
Ink on vellum, 76 x 46 cm.
4 . Exterior perspective of a guest
cottage for Mi. and Mrs. Ingram
Hook, Siesta Key, Florida , 1954.
Ink on vellum, 76 x 48 cm.
5. Front elevation of the Art
and Architecture Building,
Yale University, New Haven,
Connecticut, 1958.
Mylar print, 76 x 94 cm.
6. Perspective of upper stud ios
in the Art and Architecture
Building, Yale University, New
Haven, Connecticut, 1958.
Mylar print, 91.5 x 68 .5 cm.
7. Aerial perspective of the
Art and Architecture Building,
Yale University, New Haven,
Connecticut, 1958.
Ink on vellum, 61 x 76 cm.
8. Exterior perspective of a park-
ing garage for 1500 automobiles
for the City of New Haven,
Connecticut, 1959.
Ink on vellum, 152.5 x 73 .5 cm.
9. Interior perspective of the
Interdenominational Chapel,
Tuskegee Institute, Alabama, 1960.
Print on paper, 127 x 160 cm.
10. Exterior perspective ofa resi-
dence for Mr. and Mrs. Arthur
Milam, Jacksonville, Florida, 1960.
Mylar print, 61 x 71 cm.
11 . Section perspective of the
Christian Science Organization
Building, University of Illinois,
Urbana, 1962.
Ink on vellum, 137 x 71 cm.
12. Isometric perspective (with
tower removed) of the Health,
Education, and Welfare Building
for the Boston Government
Service Center (final scheme),
Boston, Massachusetts, 1962.
Ink on vellum, 152.5 x 172.5 cm.
13. Aerial perspective of a new
campus for Southeastern Mas-
sachusetts Technological Insti-
tute, North Dartmouth, 1963.
Ink on vellum, 139.5 x 91 .5 cm.
14. Perspective of a design for a
New City Hall, Syracuse, New
York, 1964.
Ink on vellum, 152.5 x 89 cm.
15 . Section of the Graphic Arts
Center plus apartment units
utilizing mobile house tech-
niques , New York, 1967.
Ink on vellum, 162.5 x 89 cm.
16. Section perspective for Ford
Foundation Grant to study the
Lower Manhattan expressway in
the project "New Forms of the
Evolving City," 1967.
Mylar print , 122 x 96 .5 cm.
17. Section perspective of cor-
porate headquarters , research
and other related facilities for
Burroughs Wellcome & Co.
(U.S.A.), Inc., Research Triangle
Park, North Carolina, 1969.
Ink on vellum, 183 x 91.5 cm.
18. Perspective of the cafeteria
for the South Building expan-
sion, Burroughs Wellcome & Co.
(U.S.A.) , Inc., Research Triangle
Park, North Carolina , 1982.
Mylar print, 134.5 x 73.5 cm.
19. Aerial perspective of a resi-
dential-office-shopping complex
including a plaza for Hong Fok
Centre, Singapore, 1979.
Ink on vellum, 132 x 104 cm.
20. Atrium perspective #1 of
a residential-office-shopping
complex for Hong Fok Centre ,
Singapore, 1979.
Ink on vellum , 81x104 cm.
21. Atrium perspective #2 of
a residential -office-shopping
complex for Hong Fok Centre,
Singapore, 1979.
Ink on vellum, 91.5 x 101.5 cm.
22. Section perspective of 33. Night perspective of The
a residential-office-shopping Bond Centre, an office building
complex for Hong Fok Centre, in Hong Kong, 1984.
Singapore, 1979. Prismacolor on print, 137 x 76 cm.
Ink on vellum, 106.5 x 127 cm.
34. Interior perspective of the
23. Section of a residential- lobby of The Bond Centre, Hong
office-shopping complex for Kong, 1984.
Hong Fok Centre, Singapore, Ink on vellum, 106.5 x 132 cm.
1979.
35. South entry perspective at
Ink on vellum, 124.5 x 106.5 cm.
grade of The Bond Centre, Hong
24 . Elevation perspective of a Kong, 1984.
proposed office at Beach Road/ Ink on vellum , 106.5 x 173 cm.
Nicoll Highway, Singapore, 1980.
36. Overall perspective of The
Ink on vellum, 165 x 106.5 cm.
Bond Centre, Hong Kong, 1984.
25. Frontal perspective of The Prismacolor on print, 157.5 x
Colonnade, Grange Road Con- 84cm.
dominium, Singapore, 1980.
Ink on vellum, 91.5 x 132 cm .
26. Overall perspective of The
Colonnade, Grange Road Con-
dominium, Singapore, 1980.
Ink on vellum, 61 x 94 cm.
27. Section perspective of The
Colonnade , Grange Road Con-
dominium, Singapore, 1980.
Ink on vellum, 91.5 x 165 cm.
28 . Elevation of a corporate
office building for Wisma
Dharmala Sakti , Jakarta, Indo-
nesia, 1982.
Print on paper, 86.5 x 127 cm.
29. Overall perspective of a
corporate office building for
Wisma Dharmala Sakti, Jakarta,
Indonesia, 1982.
Print on paper, 89 x 107 cm.
30. Entry perspective of a
corporate office building for
Wisma Dharmala Sakti , Jakarta,
Indonesia, 1982.
Ink on vellum, 89 x 68 .5 cm .
31. Courtyard perspective of
a corporate office building for
Wisma Dharmala Sakti , Jakarta,
Indonesia, 1982 .
Ink on vellum, 79 x 61 cm.
32 . Atrium perspective of a
corporate office building for
Wisma Dharmala Sakti , Jakarta,
Indonesia, 1982.
Ink on vellum, 132 x 99 cm.