“I’m missing Lee the architect already:
Certainly at the funeral HE would have in his understated way checked out Riverside Memorial Chapel to see if it had:
1) proper means of access and, especially egress, for a place of public assembly.
2) how the lobby could be improved to accommodate public congregating, especially mindful of seasons and weather, to check and retrieve outer garments.
3) seating made more comfortable, sight lines enhanced, lighting more flexible
4) audio reviewed, with special consideration for the hearing impaired.
5) any special amenities for the seated family, cushions, raised for viewing
6) stepping to the pulpit, speaking at pulpit. descending, back to seat.
7) ease exiting, accommodate pauses in aisles, lobby, and on sidewalk. And if the venue could be vacated in the 6 minutes, in accordance to the NYC Fire Department performance standards.
The check and punch lists would (should!) go on, and on, into eternity. Yes, eternity.
I taught senior thesis with him as a team as adjunct professors at City College for several years, in the early 70s, nearly 50 years ago but really only like yesterday. He enjoyed talking about those years whenever we met.
Lee was very much the professional architect, and when he taught was indeed the advocate for the architect. He viewed the student designs as an experienced, insightful architect while I acted as the advocate for the user.
I felt with Lee I wasn’t teaching the class, but rather learning with the class. In a way, we were all students of Lee.
And I must add it was Lee in his declarative mode who dominated the grading, I never liked giving out grades, thinking the students when graduated will be graded soon enough. He felt grades were appropriate.
Yes, Lee was judgmental, albeit in a soft voice that was sugar to his sometimes sharp reviews. This no doubt influenced me when I went into the next life to be a critic.
I especially liked it when class reviews were held in his office atop of the Plaza Hotel, in the former maids quarters, where he roosted for awhile, having been the architect for the hotel’s rehabilitation. (Yes, he had opinions about working for Donnie back then, which we shared since my Dad was the Trump interior decorator. But I have no more to say on that. We have enough sadness at present dealing with Lee’s death.)
I will say the Plaza was more pleasant than the ex Chevy facility on 133rd and Broadway.
Even after moving to LA. I enjoyed, staying in the illegal office bedroom, which gave me another reason to stay in touch with Lee, and to dine out on occasion with the wives.
For the record, the bill always was scrupulously split, with Lee, of course, doing the math, which I never questioned. I doubt anybody ever did.
And when the office was downtown, I loved it being above the culinary institute. I know he certainly did. Having lunch there with Lee, at his table, is a fond memory, even after we both went on diets.
For a Brooklyn born, Brooklyn Tech grad, subway commuter, street savvy New Yorker, he was exceptionally soft spoken and kind, to students as well as waiters, and also tolerant to colleagues, even the nasty ones who envied his success.
He even had a kind word for the bureaucrats here, and especially in India, who held up the design process, and worse, payments.
And he cared, not just for the clients. In particular, I remember him struggling with me of how should the 10,000 feral waifs living in the tunnels of the Calcutta train station be accommodated during the station’s reconstruction the office was planning.
It is a problem we never solved, like others Lee struggled with, in a life too short.
And I thought he was going to be immortal, like me, until, of course, we are not.”