"Sometimes the things I do astound me." – Bjork
"Here comes Poe, with his raven, like Barnaby Rudge,
Three fifths of him genius, and two fifths sheer fudge." – James Russell Lowell
As I often tell my friends, the hardest thing about being a genius is that it takes a genius to really appreciate it. Such is the curse of Glen Howard Small, an architect whose visions have proven too sublime for many of his peers to understand. A boy wonder of the 70s, Glen concocted grandiose designs such as the Biomorphic Biosphere, a fantastical blueprint not just for a new building plan but an entirely new way of living. In 1972, he co-founded the Southern California Institute of Architecture (SCI-Arc), an avant-garde architectural academy which would blow the roof off a staid and predictable profession. A few years later, Glen was booted from the very school he founded by the new administration. Thirty years later, only a handful of his projects have ever been realized and he struggles just to pay the bills each month. These minor setbacks have not dimmed his estimation of his own inestimable abilities.
Glen is also a family man, but nobody would accuse him of being a genius in this field. He left his first wife and their three daughters long ago, and appears never to have questioned the decision. It was just the thing to do. He was busy. Now, however, he has decided to reach out to his daughter Lucia to ask her to write his biography. Lucia counters with the idea of shooting a film instead. Glen agrees, on the condition that his work be properly recorded for future generations to appreciate. Lucia has other plans, and the result is the strange and intimate family portrait, "My Father the Genius" (2002).
Lucia, who also narrates the film, has always admired her father, but from a distance created by his own staggering narcissism. She knows he is gifted, but she´s never been sure if he´s really the genius he claims to be. A few of his colleagues take the pro-side of the argument, marveling at Glen´s ability to be an independent thinker. Lucia´s mother takes the con-side: "I lived with him and he didn´t seem like a genius to me." What little we see of Glen Howard Small´s work doesn´t provide a definitive answer. The Biomorphic Biosphere is an amazing design, but looks more like an embryonic "Star Trek" set than an actual living space. Glen´s current project is a private home for the Nelson family, the sort of mundane project that inspires him to proclaim: "I´m being wasted out in the real world here." And for crying out loud, the guy doesn´t even have a Wikipedia entry. How can you be a genius if you can´t even make Wikipedia?
But Lucia is ultimately less interested in matters of genius, and more in matters of family. The portrait she paints of her father is not a flattering one, but it´s also not a hatchet job. She loves him, and wants to like him, but she can´t come to grips with his total lack of remorse for his absentee parenting. Glen´s life was and is always about his work, and he viewed family as an impediment to success rather than as a responsibility and a pleasure. Even when he served his time as "weekend Dad," he only allowed the kids to tag along to do the things he wanted to do. It was just another "slot" to be filled in his schedule. Lucia´s struggle to understand this aspect of Glen´s personality forms the core of the film. In a sense, Lucia uses the film as therapy, and she does achieve a reconciliation of sorts with her father, though it is difficult to tell whether Glen´s newfound soft-heartedness is motivated by genuine regret or by insecurity stemming from his current cash crisis.
My Father the Genius" invites an obvious comparison to "My Architect" (2003), a film in which director Nathaniel Kahn takes a look at his own estranged father, the famous architect Louis Kahn. Though the topics are virtually identical, the films differ in meaningful ways. First, Louis Kahn was widely acknowledged as a genius and completed numerous prestigious throughout the world. Second, Louis died in 1974, decades before his son ever picked up the camera. Nathaniel´s search becomes more of an elegy, aided greatly by the beautiful spaces his father left behind. On a practical level, Lucia simply doesn´t have as many pretty pictures to film, but she does have a living, talking subject, so her film becomes more of an interactive diary. Her camerawork often leaves a lot to be desired, but she extracts a remarkable degree of intimacy from a relatively impenetrable protagonist. Glen emerges as a complex personality: a failed parent, an egotist, a clueless misogynist, an obsessive artist, a maverick dreamer, and ultimately a vulnerable and frightened man edging nervously into his sixties without a close family or a clear-cut legacy to fall back on.
Whether or not Glen Small is a genius remains an open question. But Lucia wins a hard-fought victory by wresting control of the project from the great visionary. The enduring testament to Glen Small´s work will have to wait for another day; Lucia just wants to get to know her daddy.
"Here comes Poe, with his raven, like Barnaby Rudge,
Three fifths of him genius, and two fifths sheer fudge." – James Russell Lowell
As I often tell my friends, the hardest thing about being a genius is that it takes a genius to really appreciate it. Such is the curse of Glen Howard Small, an architect whose visions have proven too sublime for many of his peers to understand. A boy wonder of the 70s, Glen concocted grandiose designs such as the Biomorphic Biosphere, a fantastical blueprint not just for a new building plan but an entirely new way of living. In 1972, he co-founded the Southern California Institute of Architecture (SCI-Arc), an avant-garde architectural academy which would blow the roof off a staid and predictable profession. A few years later, Glen was booted from the very school he founded by the new administration. Thirty years later, only a handful of his projects have ever been realized and he struggles just to pay the bills each month. These minor setbacks have not dimmed his estimation of his own inestimable abilities.
Glen is also a family man, but nobody would accuse him of being a genius in this field. He left his first wife and their three daughters long ago, and appears never to have questioned the decision. It was just the thing to do. He was busy. Now, however, he has decided to reach out to his daughter Lucia to ask her to write his biography. Lucia counters with the idea of shooting a film instead. Glen agrees, on the condition that his work be properly recorded for future generations to appreciate. Lucia has other plans, and the result is the strange and intimate family portrait, "My Father the Genius" (2002).
Lucia, who also narrates the film, has always admired her father, but from a distance created by his own staggering narcissism. She knows he is gifted, but she´s never been sure if he´s really the genius he claims to be. A few of his colleagues take the pro-side of the argument, marveling at Glen´s ability to be an independent thinker. Lucia´s mother takes the con-side: "I lived with him and he didn´t seem like a genius to me." What little we see of Glen Howard Small´s work doesn´t provide a definitive answer. The Biomorphic Biosphere is an amazing design, but looks more like an embryonic "Star Trek" set than an actual living space. Glen´s current project is a private home for the Nelson family, the sort of mundane project that inspires him to proclaim: "I´m being wasted out in the real world here." And for crying out loud, the guy doesn´t even have a Wikipedia entry. How can you be a genius if you can´t even make Wikipedia?
But Lucia is ultimately less interested in matters of genius, and more in matters of family. The portrait she paints of her father is not a flattering one, but it´s also not a hatchet job. She loves him, and wants to like him, but she can´t come to grips with his total lack of remorse for his absentee parenting. Glen´s life was and is always about his work, and he viewed family as an impediment to success rather than as a responsibility and a pleasure. Even when he served his time as "weekend Dad," he only allowed the kids to tag along to do the things he wanted to do. It was just another "slot" to be filled in his schedule. Lucia´s struggle to understand this aspect of Glen´s personality forms the core of the film. In a sense, Lucia uses the film as therapy, and she does achieve a reconciliation of sorts with her father, though it is difficult to tell whether Glen´s newfound soft-heartedness is motivated by genuine regret or by insecurity stemming from his current cash crisis.
My Father the Genius" invites an obvious comparison to "My Architect" (2003), a film in which director Nathaniel Kahn takes a look at his own estranged father, the famous architect Louis Kahn. Though the topics are virtually identical, the films differ in meaningful ways. First, Louis Kahn was widely acknowledged as a genius and completed numerous prestigious throughout the world. Second, Louis died in 1974, decades before his son ever picked up the camera. Nathaniel´s search becomes more of an elegy, aided greatly by the beautiful spaces his father left behind. On a practical level, Lucia simply doesn´t have as many pretty pictures to film, but she does have a living, talking subject, so her film becomes more of an interactive diary. Her camerawork often leaves a lot to be desired, but she extracts a remarkable degree of intimacy from a relatively impenetrable protagonist. Glen emerges as a complex personality: a failed parent, an egotist, a clueless misogynist, an obsessive artist, a maverick dreamer, and ultimately a vulnerable and frightened man edging nervously into his sixties without a close family or a clear-cut legacy to fall back on.
Whether or not Glen Small is a genius remains an open question. But Lucia wins a hard-fought victory by wresting control of the project from the great visionary. The enduring testament to Glen Small´s work will have to wait for another day; Lucia just wants to get to know her daddy.
"Sometimes the things I do astound me." – Bjork
"Here comes Poe, with his raven, like Barnaby Rudge,
Three fifths of him genius, and two fifths sheer fudge." – James Russell Lowell
As I often tell my friends, the hardest thing about being a genius is that it takes a genius to really appreciate it. Such is the curse of Glen Howard Small, an architect whose visions have proven too sublime for many of his peers to understand. A boy wonder of the 70s, Glen concocted grandiose designs such as the Biomorphic Biosphere, a fantastical blueprint not just for a new building plan but an entirely new way of living. In 1972, he co-founded the Southern California Institute of Architecture (SCI-Arc), an avant-garde architectural academy which would blow the roof off a staid and predictable profession. A few years later, Glen was booted from the very school he founded by the new administration. Thirty years later, only a handful of his projects have ever been realized and he struggles just to pay the bills each month. These minor setbacks have not dimmed his estimation of his own inestimable abilities.
Glen is also a family man, but nobody would accuse him of being a genius in this field. He left his first wife and their three daughters long ago, and appears never to have questioned the decision. It was just the thing to do. He was busy. Now, however, he has decided to reach out to his daughter Lucia to ask her to write his biography. Lucia counters with the idea of shooting a film instead. Glen agrees, on the condition that his work be properly recorded for future generations to appreciate. Lucia has other plans, and the result is the strange and intimate family portrait, "My Father the Genius" (2002).
Lucia, who also narrates the film, has always admired her father, but from a distance created by his own staggering narcissism. She knows he is gifted, but she´s never been sure if he´s really the genius he claims to be. A few of his colleagues take the pro-side of the argument, marveling at Glen´s ability to be an independent thinker. Lucia´s mother takes the con-side: "I lived with him and he didn´t seem like a genius to me." What little we see of Glen Howard Small´s work doesn´t provide a definitive answer. The Biomorphic Biosphere is an amazing design, but looks more like an embryonic "Star Trek" set than an actual living space. Glen´s current project is a private home for the Nelson family, the sort of mundane project that inspires him to proclaim: "I´m being wasted out in the real world here." And for crying out loud, the guy doesn´t even have a Wikipedia entry. How can you be a genius if you can´t even make Wikipedia?
But Lucia is ultimately less interested in matters of genius, and more in matters of family. The portrait she paints of her father is not a flattering one, but it´s also not a hatchet job. She loves him, and wants to like him, but she can´t come to grips with his total lack of remorse for his absentee parenting. Glen´s life was and is always about his work, and he viewed family as an impediment to success rather than as a responsibility and a pleasure. Even when he served his time as "weekend Dad," he only allowed the kids to tag along to do the things he wanted to do. It was just another "slot" to be filled in his schedule. Lucia´s struggle to understand this aspect of Glen´s personality forms the core of the film. In a sense, Lucia uses the film as therapy, and she does achieve a reconciliation of sorts with her father, though it is difficult to tell whether Glen´s newfound soft-heartedness is motivated by genuine regret or by insecurity stemming from his current cash crisis.
My Father the Genius" invites an obvious comparison to "My Architect" (2003), a film in which director Nathaniel Kahn takes a look at his own estranged father, the famous architect Louis Kahn. Though the topics are virtually identical, the films differ in meaningful ways. First, Louis Kahn was widely acknowledged as a genius and completed numerous prestigious throughout the world. Second, Louis died in 1974, decades before his son ever picked up the camera. Nathaniel´s search becomes more of an elegy, aided greatly by the beautiful spaces his father left behind. On a practical level, Lucia simply doesn´t have as many pretty pictures to film, but she does have a living, talking subject, so her film becomes more of an interactive diary. Her camerawork often leaves a lot to be desired, but she extracts a remarkable degree of intimacy from a relatively impenetrable protagonist. Glen emerges as a complex personality: a failed parent, an egotist, a clueless misogynist, an obsessive artist, a maverick dreamer, and ultimately a vulnerable and frightened man edging nervously into his sixties without a close family or a clear-cut legacy to fall back on.
Whether or not Glen Small is a genius remains an open question. But Lucia wins a hard-fought victory by wresting control of the project from the great visionary. The enduring testament to Glen Small´s work will have to wait for another day; Lucia just wants to get to know her daddy.
"Here comes Poe, with his raven, like Barnaby Rudge,
Three fifths of him genius, and two fifths sheer fudge." – James Russell Lowell
As I often tell my friends, the hardest thing about being a genius is that it takes a genius to really appreciate it. Such is the curse of Glen Howard Small, an architect whose visions have proven too sublime for many of his peers to understand. A boy wonder of the 70s, Glen concocted grandiose designs such as the Biomorphic Biosphere, a fantastical blueprint not just for a new building plan but an entirely new way of living. In 1972, he co-founded the Southern California Institute of Architecture (SCI-Arc), an avant-garde architectural academy which would blow the roof off a staid and predictable profession. A few years later, Glen was booted from the very school he founded by the new administration. Thirty years later, only a handful of his projects have ever been realized and he struggles just to pay the bills each month. These minor setbacks have not dimmed his estimation of his own inestimable abilities.
Glen is also a family man, but nobody would accuse him of being a genius in this field. He left his first wife and their three daughters long ago, and appears never to have questioned the decision. It was just the thing to do. He was busy. Now, however, he has decided to reach out to his daughter Lucia to ask her to write his biography. Lucia counters with the idea of shooting a film instead. Glen agrees, on the condition that his work be properly recorded for future generations to appreciate. Lucia has other plans, and the result is the strange and intimate family portrait, "My Father the Genius" (2002).
Lucia, who also narrates the film, has always admired her father, but from a distance created by his own staggering narcissism. She knows he is gifted, but she´s never been sure if he´s really the genius he claims to be. A few of his colleagues take the pro-side of the argument, marveling at Glen´s ability to be an independent thinker. Lucia´s mother takes the con-side: "I lived with him and he didn´t seem like a genius to me." What little we see of Glen Howard Small´s work doesn´t provide a definitive answer. The Biomorphic Biosphere is an amazing design, but looks more like an embryonic "Star Trek" set than an actual living space. Glen´s current project is a private home for the Nelson family, the sort of mundane project that inspires him to proclaim: "I´m being wasted out in the real world here." And for crying out loud, the guy doesn´t even have a Wikipedia entry. How can you be a genius if you can´t even make Wikipedia?
But Lucia is ultimately less interested in matters of genius, and more in matters of family. The portrait she paints of her father is not a flattering one, but it´s also not a hatchet job. She loves him, and wants to like him, but she can´t come to grips with his total lack of remorse for his absentee parenting. Glen´s life was and is always about his work, and he viewed family as an impediment to success rather than as a responsibility and a pleasure. Even when he served his time as "weekend Dad," he only allowed the kids to tag along to do the things he wanted to do. It was just another "slot" to be filled in his schedule. Lucia´s struggle to understand this aspect of Glen´s personality forms the core of the film. In a sense, Lucia uses the film as therapy, and she does achieve a reconciliation of sorts with her father, though it is difficult to tell whether Glen´s newfound soft-heartedness is motivated by genuine regret or by insecurity stemming from his current cash crisis.
My Father the Genius" invites an obvious comparison to "My Architect" (2003), a film in which director Nathaniel Kahn takes a look at his own estranged father, the famous architect Louis Kahn. Though the topics are virtually identical, the films differ in meaningful ways. First, Louis Kahn was widely acknowledged as a genius and completed numerous prestigious throughout the world. Second, Louis died in 1974, decades before his son ever picked up the camera. Nathaniel´s search becomes more of an elegy, aided greatly by the beautiful spaces his father left behind. On a practical level, Lucia simply doesn´t have as many pretty pictures to film, but she does have a living, talking subject, so her film becomes more of an interactive diary. Her camerawork often leaves a lot to be desired, but she extracts a remarkable degree of intimacy from a relatively impenetrable protagonist. Glen emerges as a complex personality: a failed parent, an egotist, a clueless misogynist, an obsessive artist, a maverick dreamer, and ultimately a vulnerable and frightened man edging nervously into his sixties without a close family or a clear-cut legacy to fall back on.
Whether or not Glen Small is a genius remains an open question. But Lucia wins a hard-fought victory by wresting control of the project from the great visionary. The enduring testament to Glen Small´s work will have to wait for another day; Lucia just wants to get to know her daddy.
No comments:
Post a Comment