Here is some of what I did in order to write Perfect Architect, the rough cut... (Bear in mind that I started work on this project long before my first novel was published – and over the years it took to put this book together there have been a fair number of adventures... involving what some might call ‘downright bad behaviour’... )
I broke into building sites to see how places were being put together. How else could I see the bare bones of a building?—Over time, and quite accidentally, I became more curious and also ambitious. One of these sites was the wonderful Jewish Museum in Berlin designed by Daniel Libeskind. Perhaps my most ambitious break-in!—It’s really wonderful to see a building as it begins to take shape, morphing, growing, finding its place, settling into or challenging a landscape, it’s something rather special, and certainly very difficult to imagine once the build is over. I felt I had to seize the moment sometimes.
What other mischief was involved? Quite a lot...
I attended lectures in courses I wasn’t signed up for, and a few that I was. At times I couldn’t easily get to meet an architect I was interested in (I’m not famous, I had few connections, and, at the time, was still an unpublished novelist), so I went to all kinds of lengths to gain access to some of the more high profile architects, including once gatecrashing a very exclusive party held in Libeskind’s honour. (Perhaps I should hang my head in shame but I don’t, and if I’m honest, it was a whole lot of fun). In this particular case, I wanted the chance to see Libeskind close up. I’d read his work, read about his work, and seen him lecture, but I wondered what he was like in a different atmosphere - less the architect, less the teacher, more of the guy, the man off duty, the relaxed version with a glass of something nice to hand.—At the party, trembling at the thought of someone checking the guest list (no press passes had been issued so I couldn’t pretend to have been there for a paper, and as there were only about thirty guests I could so easily have been caught out), I downed a glass of champagne, took a deep breath, circled the room again trying to choose my moment, and when the last person moved away from him, I snuck in. I told him I liked his work, I told him I had broken into the building site to check it out from the inside, to see it close up, kinda feel its pulse. He chuckled warmly, he thought it was cool. He asked me what I thought of it.
This book started its life somewhere, for sure, but I’m not entirely certain where. Maybe Japan, for that’s the place that has had the biggest impact on challenging how I see buildings, how I look at them, how I think about them. It’s also a place where I met some wonderful architects, students of architecture, and interior designers – a broad range of nationalities too. But what’s important is that in amongst a whole raft of experiences, I fell in love with the possibilities of architecture, and I wanted to include and celebrate that in my writing. I started work on this book long before my first novel was published. I came back and worked on it some more after Soothing Music for Stray Cats was finding its way, and I can’t imagine ever having quite that much fun working on a novel ever again. For whatever else comes, I guess I have to act like a grown up now and ask people formally for permission, as a writer, to meet who I need to meet, to see what I need to see, but I’m so very glad I had the chance to be bad.
I still cannot quite square how I manage to be too shy at times to ask permission and yet am bold enough at others simply just to walk right in, but so it is.
So that’s a small taste of what went on in the background, the research, the groundwork, so to speak (I can’t tell you everything... ) for Perfect Architect - a novel about houses, architects, a whole lot of love, oh... and hand-carved penguins.I’m going to read from it and answer questions at the Big Green Bookshop (Wood Green, London) very soon... 12 May! come along, we’ll have wine, it’s free.
