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Podcast

Shohei Shigematsu: Defining Radicality in Architecture

As the partner running the New York outpost of Rem Koolhaas’s legendary firm OMA, this architect has done that rarest of things: established himself as a cultural figure in his own right. On the 13th season finale, Dan speaks with Shigematsu about growing up in the heyday of 1980s Japan, his expansion of Manhattan’s New Museum, and more.

July 16, 2025 By THE GRAND TOURIST
Photo: Courtesy OMA

SHOW NOTES

As the partner running the New York outpost of Rem Koolhaas’s legendary firm OMA, this architect has done that rarest of things: established himself as a cultural figure in his own right. On this Season 13 finale, Dan speaks with Shigematsu about growing up in the heyday of 1980s Japan, how his love of filmmaking inspired his career in architecture, how he nailed his job interview with Koolhaas, his soon-to-be-completed expansion of Manhattan’s New Museum, and more.

Listen to this episode

TRANSCRIPT

Shohei Shigematsu: For me, it’s not just about iconic architecture for a museum, but suggesting a kind of high level of integration of operation and space. What’s more? What makes architecture more iconic in this context? And I thought, create a kind of destination, a space that goes beyond art and also being loved by the community.

Dan Rubinstein: Hi, I’m Dan Rubinstein, and this is The Grand Tourist. I’ve been a design journalist for more than 20 years, and this is my personalized, guided tour through the worlds of fashion, art, architecture, food, and travel, all the elements of a well-lived life. And welcome to the 13th season finale of the podcast.

We’ll be back in September with all new episodes, with perhaps some surprises along the way. So keep in touch by signing up for our newsletter, The Grand Tourist Curator, or by purchasing our first ever print issue online, both at thegrandtourist.net. Now onto the program.

In architecture, influential talent often need to strike out on their own early in their careers to make a name for themselves. Rising to the ranks in a major firm, especially when a true icon has his or her name on the door, can be a challenge. My guest today is unique in that respect.

After spending much of his career at the groundbreaking firm OMA, under the direction of legendary architect Rem Koolhaas, he’s established a New York outpost that’s executing some of the most inspiring projects in the United States and beyond. Shohei Shigematsu. Shohei is a partner in OMA, as you’ll learn today, and is the brains behind a series of incredible projects stateside, like the Milstein Hall at Cornell University, the Faena Forum in Miami, Sotheby’s New York, an extension to the Albright-Knox Museum in Buffalo, and, importantly, the long-awaited upcoming expansion of the New Museum in Manhattan.

On top of it all, he also follows in the footsteps of Rem with culturally charged projects with a fashionable, sometimes radical approach. This is especially seen in his work in fashion, including exhibitions and installations for houses such as Prada, Dior, and Vuitton. I caught up with Shohei from his offices in New York to talk about growing up in the heyday of 1980s Japan, how his secret love of filmmaking inspired him to pursue architecture, how he unwittingly nailed his job interview with Rem, the latest on the New Museum expansion, and more.

You were raised in Japan, but you also spent a little bit of time here in the States, from what I’ve read, as a child. And I believe you grew up in Fukuoka? 

Yes, Fukuoka.

And what is your earliest memory of life there?

Earliest memory, I think it is maybe going to the beach, you know, every summer. I think my parents took us, I’m the middle one of the three brothers. And I remember that I was on the beach with my older brother and maybe playing or something.

But anyway, I remember clearly that moment that was so bright and so cheerful and so many like family members on the beach eating watermelon for some reason. I’m sure there must be an earlier one. But if you ask me right now, that’s the first one that came up.

And your father was, I read that he was a research fellow at MIT.

Exactly, exactly.

What kind of fellow, what was he researching?

He was a professor in Japan for material engineering, something like that. And I don’t know the direct translation, but basically really investigating into a kind of material. You know, at the time, he’s the first baby boomer and the steel industry and all that was the kind of the best you can get.

And so he went in that direction, material engineering. And then at that time, as you know, if you’re employed, if you go to national universities, you could have an exchange program with an American university and they could choose the university, of course they had to be accepted, but he chose MIT. So he took all the family members with him.

Okay. And was it like a creative household?

In a way, yes, but in a way, no. Because I think his generation, my parents’ generation, were what in global context is called 68th generation, where there were a lot of protests against the government, a lot of protests against the war. Of course, in Japan he was born in ’44 just before the war ended. So a political angle to life and a lot of talks about that, even in the household, but yet he always was listening to, you know, classical music and took us to the museums.

So I wouldn’t say that’s creative, but, you know, he was always talking about how art is difficult but important for your life. And I think he always connected science to art too. Like I think he saw science as also a part of art in a way for his life and he was always talking about how beautiful science is. Talking about how, you know, water and cloud works and all those things, like fundamental things in life or in the world, he was always keen on telling us.

Would you characterize your upbringing as sort of traditionally Japanese in a way?

Hmm. Maybe yes, until we went to the U.S. 

What was that like for you?

On the other hand, sorry to go back, they were always keen on going out. I think because of the previous generation, basically my grandparents generation who literally experienced the war, they always said whenever we saw them that we have to work internationally for peace, you know. They literally wanted me to work for the U.N. for example.

So then my father’s generation, although they couldn’t go out of Japan, they were very keen on it. So that’s why he took the opportunity to take all the family members with him. Although the grant was just for him to go to Boston.

Um, but after being in the U.S., I think it opened some windows for them and I think it continued to open it up, I think. So I wouldn’t say it’s traditionally Japanese, but traditionally Japanese in the way that they had a kind of post-war desires, traumas that need to be expressed out, every day but also through the course of life.

And, you know, your teenage years were in the 80s, which of course was like a big boom time in Japan. And I was wondering, like, what were you, what was a teenager, was a 16 year old, uh, Shohei sort of into?

That’s a really interesting question because I always try to convey this to people outside of Japan. So that was the moment that maybe Japan had an optimism as a social, in the entire social scene. And this is the last time that I felt that Japan had such an optimism in my memory.

And in Japan as a 16 year old, I was really focusing on studying because in Japan it’s very difficult to get into university, in many countries but also in Japan. So you have to really study hard to get into a good university, but also I was a basketball player. So I played basketball every day. I was not a point guard, but like, shooting guard, like a second. And I eventually became a captain. So I was really committed to the sports. But in a kind of daily life, you know, you see in the TV and also in the street, the optimism, a lot of money spent, a lot of promise for kind of high standard living, lot of, you know, objects, purchases. I have to say like a lot of commercials for new things like, you know, the Sony and cars and great apartments and great furniture.

So, you know, a bright future was promised to me. And so of course I took that for granted and I studied hard and entered a good university. That is the first hurdle in society. That if you go to a good university, somehow that kind of lifestyle is ensured, that we’re promised. But then like once I entered the bubble bursted, so I felt betrayed, not betrayed, but I felt unlucky. Yeah.

And, uh, why architecture?

That’s also an interesting story. I was really into film. Like I wanted to be a film director.

I saw a Kurosawa movie when I was 10 years old, actually in Boston with MIT students and my family, because my father took us to a MIT student screening. And then there was Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai. And then I didn’t know Kurosawa at all at the time, but you know, the movie was very long and black and white, but somehow I was really drawn into it. I also saw the reaction of, you know, students at the time. And, you know, a lot of people were so into it, the international students. And my father was very proud that a Japanese movie was shown and, you know, a lot of people were into it.

And somehow I thought that was a great medium to create and. And then I went back to Japan and saw many movies, but I couldn’t really tell my parents nor my teacher that I wanted to be a film director. I was a bit embarrassed because in Japan film being a film director, there is no like great film school or academic film school or such. There are now, but at the time it was very, you know, rare and also doesn’t really belong to traditional national university. Right. So maybe I was a little bit too naive or too shy or too stupid, but I couldn’t really tell my teacher that I wanted to be a film director. Hence I picked something I thought at the time close, but I also liked drawing, making stuff. So I thought architecture, again a very naive understanding of architecture, at the time I thought that architecture could be interesting.

Also in Japan, you go to either the literature side or math and physics side. And I went to the physics side because of my father’s influence, but I was also good at it. So I went in that direction. I could only think of two professions that you could be kind of independent, not going to like big companies and be working under a kind of hierarchical structure, which was either doctor or architect. And I chose architecture, which maybe is the first wrong choice.

Probably the first right one, actually. I can say that maybe, what, 30 years later?

But you know, still, I could feel that right now in Japan it is not like that. I think a lot of parents and the society embrace this individual, you know, desire to become A profession, B profession. But at the time there was always a kind of pre-set notion that you have to go to a good university, good private or national university and be on established faculty and then, and then go to a big company or establish your company. You know, there was a kind of path. And I couldn’t really suggest at the time a different path. Of course, because I didn’t know. Also, I was not in that kind of environment that people could tell me that there are other paths.

So it shows the prematureness of the society then, but also that my surroundings were not really equipped to push me in that direction. But, you know, sometimes limited possibility is also fine. You know, if I see the, you know, the path I took.

OMA’s glass-enveloped extension of the Buffalo AKG Art Museum. Photo: Jason O’Rear

And so I guess, so what you’re saying is that choosing architecture was sort of like a call for freedom, you know, it was like a push to be a little bit more independent and not get sucked into that sort of traditional Japanese workplace lifestyle.

Yeah. I could see that already when I was in high school, that I was not really suited for that kind of big company hierarchical structure, because I was already not really fitting so well to that kind of Japanese typical groups and gatherings. And, you know, although of course I liked sports and sports with the teammates and all that I did well, but somehow I always had some kind of doubt about that kind of structure.

So I thought being an architect or being a doctor, you could just make your own thing and also overview or create something that you can be proud of, not just working for someone.

Like a film director. 

Yeah. Film director. So that was the closest I could pick where there was a kind of clear faculty of something, but there was no faculty of filmmaking at the times. But now I would love to, I still like watching films. But as you say, there’s a definite similarity to filmmaking and architecture where you create something with so many specialists and collaborations, and trying to basically express the zeitgeist and the specific givens and express that into a product.

And tell me a little bit about after school then before you joined OMA, was there a gap? Did you work for other people? What was that career like?

I did an internship at Toyo Ito’s office. Toyo Ito is another famous Pritzker Prize winner, Japanese architect. And my complex was that I was in Fukuoka, not in Tokyo.

Tokyo of course is the mainstream, all the great universities, all the, you know, great firms are there. So although I was kind of winning the student competition, in a domestic competition I got some awards and best place, but I really wanted to experience how to work, you know, what the situation is in Tokyo. So during the summer, I did the internship at Toyo Ito’s office before I went to Holland, which was very good because I could really see that I was not in the level that I could compete with the kind of kids in Tokyo, where a lot of really good people or skilled people had been working in that kind of high level offices throughout their student time.

So it’s not like I just came to Toyo Ito’s office for the first time. They had been working almost like a real staff. So I really felt that there was a big discrepancy. That also propelled me to actually apply to a grad school outside of Japan.

And then tell me about the grad school and how you found your way to the Netherlands.

My professor in Kyushu University was a graduate of Berlage Institute, at the time. The graduation thesis was about collective housing in Amsterdam, but also in general, how collective housing has a little bit of history, but also a bit of future studies, how it could evolve. So that was my thesis. So I went to the Netherlands a couple of times for that with my teachers. So I thought it was an interesting place to go because, you know, I lived in the U.S., although I was a child, but I thought going back to the U.S. was maybe not the right way. Also the tuition fee was so high. So maybe I thought either London or somewhere else. And then Holland was a great choice. The tuition fee was much lower. And also it was English speaking. And also it was a new institution that was just made. So I thought maybe it’s an interesting challenge. And that kind of decision now, maybe it takes so much time and effort to choose something. At the time for me, it was kind of easy. “Okay. Maybe I should just try.”

And then strangely enough, I made such an important choice quite easily. And then I, you know, I went to Holland and then after that, I went to OMA.

What was your interview like there at OMA? Do you remember it?

Yeah. I was at the interview—and I applied to many offices in Holland. I truly thought I couldn’t actually enter OMA, at the time, at my level, but so I sent a lot of applications to many firms, not just in Holland, but in Belgium, some in Paris, some in London. But then only OMA replied for some reason. And then I went to OMA for the interview. Two office leaders at the time—it’s actually Dan Wood who runs a firm called WORKac now, and a lot of American people around. And after the interview was done, I saw Rem walking around.

And I was told by people who knew OMA, before I went to the interview, that I should be remembered by Rem. Otherwise, you will be just a kind of workforce, doing random stuff. And I thought that I should at least introduce myself to Rem, even though of course I was not accepted yet.

So I kind of pleaded for a chance to actually talk to him and Dan Wood was nice enough to bring him to the table. And then, at the time OMA always had a Japanese person, but luckily enough at that moment, there was no Japanese person. And I think in general, I think Rem always enjoyed having some Japanese in his office. But then he started to ask kind of strange questions. Or strange as in, “Oh, did you study anything else other than architecture?”

Of course, I was so equipped to show my portfolio, and prepared to show my portfolio and my love for architecture. But the first question I got was, “Did you study anything else?” And of course now I know him well, it’s a very interesting, good question, but I said no.

And then I talked about my time in Boston. I talked a little bit about, you know, really fast forwarding the portfolio and he stopped and said “What is this?” And I explained it in like two sentences and he said, “Do you like it?”

I also thought it was kind of an interesting question, but I thought it was a kind of trick question. If I say I like it, he will think that I am not a critical person, or a self-critical person. So I said, well, I like it, but this and this, I didn’t really like.

And then he said “Okay.” And then he left. It was really kind of weird like three minutes. And then he started kind of yelling at those people that are interviewing, where’s this and that, like immediately talking about a project and ignoring me as if I was not there.

So anyway, it was a very interesting three minutes encountering him and then luckily I was accepted. And it was a really interesting moment to enter, which I can elaborate on now.

Yeah. What was that moment like for the firm? What was going on there at the time?

It was only like 30 people, but exactly right after, it was like ’98, right? So, uh, S,M,L,XL was like ’96, I think ’95 or ’96.

Yeah.

And he was at the height of his, or beginning of his, like kind of peak, I think of popularity. So a lot of American projects. So, right off, basically the project that I entered and worked on was the Universal Studio headquarters.

So a big headquarter in LA and a team of maybe 15 people. In that, Dan Wood was leaving. Joshua Prince-Ramus was there. Yada, yada, yada.

And then like IIT’s student center, we won. And then Seattle’s public library, we won. And then Prada, New York and Prada, the whole collaboration with Prada started.

I’m talking before 9/11. So until 9/11, it was like, you know, and then we won LACMA. So it was like every project we worked on—well we did a lot of competitions because I thought that was the best way to get to know the firm and get to be remembered. And every project we worked on, I feel like we won. 

Were the projects you were working on just happened to be the ones in the United States, or is that just kind of what the whole firm was doing at the time?

Yeah, almost all the projects were American projects, some Dutch projects. I worked on one cinema in Holland, but yeah, most of the projects were in the U.S. And hence, because a lot of people in the firm were Americans.

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The Audrey Irmas Pavilion, a new cultural and community center commissioned by The Wilshire Boulevard Temple. Photo: Jason O’Rear

And, you know, I’m not an architect, and so I can only imagine what working at a place like OMA would be, where people like Rem are so highly regarded and you’re kind of operating at like a different level in terms of like philosophy and execution and stuff. What would you say you learned during those couple of years, those early years of working on everything from a movie theater in Holland to LACMA or what have you? Like, what was that? What did you learn as a young architect?

I think that’s what I thought, as you said, like you need to really be super intellectual, you have to be well-read, you have to be well-spoken, you have to be a good designer, you have to be a good presenter. All of the above is in a way true, but also what I felt really comfortable with was that in the end I noticed that management or Rem or everyone is actually looking at the personalities of people, not necessarily all those kind of super skills per se, but also it’s not about the kind of wacky outstanding ideas that wins in that kind of environment. It’s more of a very rational, very down-to-earth, very precise analysis of what’s given, and very sincere response of possibilities, what you can do in that kind of moment.

And so I suddenly felt very encouraged because I didn’t have to be a genius there, I just have to be diligent and I just have to be passionate and I just have to be very honest about what I like and what I don’t like. That kind of very efficient and honest transaction, not transaction, like exchanges were happening, I felt. So I was actually quite encouraged by that kind of environment.

And then also there were are a lot of discussions, but also a lot of personal, after-hour quality time spending with your colleagues too. So I think that was almost like an extended school period. It was almost like a school, but with a kind of actual project and actual feedback from the client, etc.

So that was quite a rewarding school. I felt really like I was learning something for the first time, that I’d never felt in school.

And fast-forwarding a little bit, you became a partner around 2008. I think you were 32 at the time. It was quite young. Can you tell us about the first project you worked on as a partner?

I think that there’s a bit more interesting way of explaining how I felt. Basically, I took over the office in 2006 as the director of the New York office, which at that time we had very little projects. Cornell University’s extension of their Architecture, Art and Planning faculty. So it was Milstein Hall. And then I had a couple of developers projects in New York. Then the Lehman shock or the crisis happened. And then the Lehman crisis happened. And somehow a lot of projects were lost. The Milstein Hall continued. But when I became a partner, was right after the Lehman crisis, right. So there weren’t so many projects at the time. But I felt like I have to establish my own credibility here.

Because in a way at the time, the U.S. was not a favorite place for many Europeans and people with, you know, the Bush period and all that kind of war and etc. And somehow, I think that made Ram also not so forthcoming and coming to the U.S. and helping me to forge the business, right? Because I was also reliant on his fame to get a project in the beginning.

But somehow, I started to notice when I became a partner that it became difficult. So I now finally got a license to somehow be free on deciding the direction of the firm. Basically, I thought, I would treat my own office as a small office, not really relying on OMA’s umbrella and trying to kind of get myself known and also do a lot of engagements that are beyond OMA.

That was a kind of moment that when I became a partner, basically, I felt like I should just start my little office. So I wouldn’t single out a project. And then, of course, in the beginning it was very difficult, because of course, whenever I present, the client expects Rem to be there.

But then, eventually, it started to work by not just pitching and pitching, but teaching, getting to know the local community, and also getting to know how to present. A little bit of evolving myself into the context of the United States. And then somehow, it worked. Because right after the crisis, everything was a bit slow. And I think a lot of people had time, and myself, had time to really embrace the society and embrace the context.

So that was in a way, the beginning of my partnership. And then somehow the office had worked, almost to the level that the New York office is almost like an independent entity, successfully creating a kind of another arm within OMA.

And how many people are you in the New York office at this point?

We’re about 70 now.

70?

Yeah.

Oh, wow, that’s huge. Okay. And what was it like for you to come to New York around 2006? Personally, did you enjoy your life in New York when you first moved here?

If I think of it now, it was kind of enjoyable. Maybe I didn’t know the hardness of New York enough in the beginning to be pessimistic about it. Right now, I know both sides, so I can be quite neutral.

But at the time, I was enjoying a lot because of the amount of exciting events and exhibitions and so on, the cultural events that were happening. But also the people that were around were quite diverse and welcoming. I never felt in Europe or in Holland that I was truly welcomed as an Asian. Of course in the office I was welcome, but I mean on the street.

But here, of course, there are so many Asians and so many international people, I felt truly that I was treated very equally here for the first time. And that made me really feel encouraged. But also, whenever you’re expressing what you want to do, I think people in New York were always very supportive of your ambition, I felt.

And even though, you know, I was trying to do something impossible. Almost kind of not undoing, but like promoting my name over one of the most influential architects in my generation, a lot of people were kind of, as they understood, supportive to that. And I think that kind of welcomingness and the dynamics, I was enjoying quite a lot in the beginning. Yes.

Did you feel a shift in terms of how architecture is practiced in the day-to-day and how things are presented here in the States versus, you know, how you started your career in Europe?

Yes, maybe simply because I was a true, you know, leader here. I was always, I always had someone who could really be the representative ultimately. So I was actually being quite frivolous, if I think of it now, or more creative, more radical in my design suggestions, because in the end, I thought someone could, you know, save me, or it’s not ultimately my responsibility to defend that design in reality.

But now, you know, of course, I’m the last one to defend. So maybe the dynamics has changed in that regard, just through my position, but also in the U.S. and in New York, especially, of course, things are quite severe, especially in a commercial architecture. So yeah, I think that a lot of reality checks kicked into the process. And I think that’s a strength too, though, of me now, that of course, I experienced many typologies and many processes. So somehow, yeah.

When you presented, did you think people—I know they expected Rem to be there—but I guess, did they expect more radical? You know, no one hires to do a boring job, right? Like, did people expect that you’re gonna come in and give us some revelation that has to be really kind of as we say, like a wow factor, like, did you feel that pressure that, if you’re going to come and present an OMA project, we expect it to be different.

I think that was not a pressure, because I also witnessed all those American projects being cancelled, you know, Rem’s projects. And I think deep in their heart, of course, people want OMA’s radical, at the time, radical architecture. But on the other hand, there’s always conservatism also here.

And I experienced that because I worked on many American projects that eventually got cancelled, and I didn’t want to repeat that. So although of course, we are expected to have some level of, you know, design radicality or excellency, I was always a bit careful of going in that direction. But also, as I said earlier, I wanted to create a kind of fresh, like a disruptive arm of OMA, which doesn’t really actually follow what OMA used to do.

So I was always thinking with the staff, okay, what is not OMA. What can we do that is not OMA? Whenever someone presented an option that looked kind of too OMA, I was kind of against. Because, again, then we’re going to follow the same path and get a reaction, “Okay, this is very OMA. It’s under Rem’s influence,” but I wanted to create our own kind of thinking here.

So, you know, the severity of the New York architectural scene and me trying to establish something that is not entirely just OMA’s methodology. I thought it would generate something unique here.

And, you know, speaking of having your own thinking and developing your own sort of OMA New York style, I was wondering if you could walk through to someone who maybe is not familiar with the project at all, as I have a soft spot for Buffalo, New York, as I went to school there. Tell us about the Albright-Knox Museum and the extension there.

Yeah, that’s a great project to explain.

In terms of your own thinking.

Yeah, yeah, yes, yes. I think that my own thinking comes from what I call observation of the changes that are happening in the society, meeting the specificity of each project. So, I’m always very interested in extracting very specific givens of each project, because in architecture, every time, most of the time, the site is different, the client is different, the program is different.

So, I’m very focused in delivering something that is only possible in that context and givens. At the same time, of course, the museum is a typology that exists all over the world. So, there’s a general observation and opinions needed for that typology too.

So, for me, that specificity versus that kind of general observation of the changes that are happening in that typology, that tension creates something unique. And in Buffalo’s case, it’s a typical extension of a museum. Museum typology always extends because often the collection becomes larger. And often, you need a new gallery space to show new types of art, etc. 

In Buffalo, there was an extension, there was an original building in 1905. There’s an extension that happened by SOM in ’62, within Delaware Park, which is designed by Olmsted, who’s the same designer as Central Park in New York.

So, it’s a great environment, but those two buildings, basically original and extended, somehow became a blockage between the city and the park and also created a surface parking, which also takes up some of the beautiful park space. So, our project was to create an extension that reflects the new direction of the museum in North America, which I will explain now, but also to give back and restore the park space around so that the museum becomes truly a museum in the park as originally intended. 

So, the extension of the museum, where I focused, is how the museum typology is changing in my observation, especially in North America, where a lot of community engagements are happening within the museum. So, museum typology is no longer just a gallery space but it’s more about engaging a community, forging a community, and also educating, not necessarily just art, but creating educational spaces where a lot of exchange is happening. And also a lot of spaces that are open-ended spaces that encourage the community to have an event, and also curator and artists to have some kind of installation, not just within a white cube.

So, in order to achieve that, the new extension, the new pavilion, actually flips the diagram of the old pavilion. The old museum, which was all inner, inward-looking, introverted, and from the exterior was hardly visible. It was very solid, but there was a courtyard and art surrounding the courtyard, so it was kind of catered to really look towards the inside. But here, I wanted to make a kind of completely different diagram by creating a gallery in the center, but wrapping it with a glass envelope, some kind of open-ended space where curators and the community can improvise their activity within. So, it’s like a concourse, but wrapping the whole gallery space which is lifted so you can actually have a view to the park, and also view from outside in so that the whole activity is almost broadcasted and somehow transparent to the community, which was kind of lacking. 

And also, their great collection is somewhat shown also in that space. So, somehow it’s extremely accessible and extremely transparent. And having this kind of ambiguous, non-defined space where artists, curators, but also the community can actually do their own programming and activities.

So, in short—it wasn’t really short—but somehow that’s the explanation of the building and the whole master plan. And also, we restored the existing buildings. We put the new wooden floor to the 1905 building. And also, we changed the SOM extension in ’62 into an educational wing. And also, we collaborated with Olafur Eliasson, the artist, to put a roof on top of an existing courtyard, which was not well used. So, it was not just one building, but it was a whole campus that we designed.

OMA designed a Dior retrospective in Seoul this year. Photo: Courtesy OMA

And how do you think you handled this that maybe OMA and the Netherlands might have done differently?

I think the OMA was challenging the white cube itself, you know. And I think Rem’s interest, well, I don’t want to call it just Rem, but I don’t know if you can compare to OMA Rotterdam now, because that’s also a very different office compared to the past. But let’s say in previous projects of museums, I think OMA was very heroic to even redefine the white cube itself.

But here, I wanted to deliver a perfect white cube as people and artists want, because that’s a kind of established zone. But I felt the opportunity was the discrepancy between the extension of a gallery space, but actually museums activity is diversified and expanding to a non-gallery space, right? So, you know, just expanding the gallery space didn’t really fulfill the new types of activity that are happening in the museum.

So, I think that the observation of North America in that regard was probably possible through me being, of course, in New York, but also doing research. I did some art field research at Columbia with students, how the art world is changing. And also, I worked on many angles in the art domain by doing collaboration with artists. I did artist studios. I’ve done exhibitions. So, it’s not just building a physical museum, but I was in the position of almost like, you know, artists themselves, also doing artist studios.

So, I know how they feel about museum space. I also did exhibition design, where I worked very closely with curators. So, within the time that I, of course, didn’t get this kind of high profile museum immediately, I was working on the surrounding kind of ecosystem of art.

And I think that somehow influenced me to come up with that kind of scheme, which for me, it’s not just about architecture, iconic architecture for a museum, but really suggesting a kind of high level integration of operation and space somehow. Because operationally the museum was quite different from what I did when I did The Whitney extension or LACMA extension with Rem. So, I think that’s how we came up with this direction. And also, I think the operational side of people in Buffalo, led by Janne Sirén the Finnish director, they were also very much focusing on that angle.

Of course, a great collection, great gallery was a must, but what’s more? You know, what makes architecture more iconic in this context? And I thought being more iconic in this context was to create a kind of destination, a space that goes beyond art and also being loved by the community.

And obviously, speaking of museums, we’re recording this at the very end of March and your expansion of the New Museum, which has been really a long time in the works, will be ready to open. I believe this fall was just announced. What can people expect? This is a very exciting opening. The New Museum is on the Bowery. Obviously, you’re expanding on the museum very highly beloved by SANAA and its design at the time was very radical.

And how’s that going? And tell us a little bit about where things are now.

Yeah, it’s going well, of course, some delays, as you know, in New York. This one is also similar to the Albright-Knox-Gundlach Museum, but the difference is that typically museum extensions happen over like a 50 years span, so that the contrast between old and new is easier to create, or it’s naturally there because the building that is existing is old. Here, it’s only like a 15 year span, which, you know, the building is a contemporary art museum designed by the Japanese duo.

And here, it was an international competition. So, of course, our schema was chosen, but still, how to deal with contemporary architecture in a pair, you know, creating a pair, creating a couple is, as you know, similar to human beings, it’s very difficult. When everyone is decoupling in the world, politically, we wanted to create a kind of perfect couple.

And a perfect couple is, I think, somehow not being too respectful, but to also create understanding that each has to have its own individual persona, but highly functionally connected. So, in order to achieve that, we actually collected different images, just images of anything that shows unique pairs before we started designing. So, in some example, like Marina Abramović and her partner looking into each other and naked and have a gap, that’s an opening of an exhibition, people had to walk in between them, or the rocket and the rocket launcher, the kind of the mechanism to hold the rocket before they get, you know, launched, you know, one is highly infrastructural, one just goes out to the space. All those images, like 20 images, just to remind us that a pair is not just new and old, or better or worse, or white or black. We wanted to create some kind of ambiguous pair, but ambiguously independent.

Anyway, it’s hard to explain, but that’s the kind of decision that the leaders can make, right. That, “Okay, before we design, what is the problem here?” I felt when I did Whitney Museum against Breuer with Rem in the early 2000s, that was also kind of criticized. It was a little bit too overwhelming to Breuer’s building, etc. It was maybe too kind of not connected well enough.

Maybe it came from the past trauma of losing that project. But also, I felt truly here that there’s an opportunity to create an interesting pair. And then somehow that turned into a diagram where every level is connected, every program is repeated, because what the museum wanted was not a clone, but, you know, almost another museum, which is almost the same program, next to it.

So almost like creating a pair first, every level is connected. But having a different face, and also respecting the existing building, which is quite vertical, as you know. So we created this mid-level setback that preserves the view of the existing terrace to downtown, but also respecting the kind of verticality and us being a bit more horizontal. So those kinds of contextual relationships somehow shaped the museum.

But also, what I said about how the museum is evolving is still relevant in this project too. There’s a whole face part, a kind of fluid circulation space that also is somewhat open-ended, not really well defined. But what we are thinking is that that’s also an area where the museum or artists or the community can do a lot of activities and expressions and exchanges.

And how are you feeling about it now at this point?

Um, I think it’s gonna look great. And I’m hoping that—and I know the museum’s curatorial team is amazing, and the community engagement is amazing. And also a lot of art entities, a lot of museums in North America, or in the U.S. have evolved into more multifaceted art entities, not just doing exhibitions. They do events, they do education, they do many things.

So I think it will cater to that kind of new image of the museum quite well, because the existing museum was also hermetic, right? Like it was a little bit more introverted. This one, again, is quite extroverted. You see people’s movement, there are terraces. So you see the activities from outside quite well, and I hope this will make the museum more inviting, similar to the case in Buffalo.

And, you know, since you’ve moved to New York, it’s changed quite a lot, especially from a sort of an urban point of view, from an architecture point of view. What do you love about being a New Yorker?

It always gives me energy to do something new, maybe because of the name New York. I mean, it’s kind of interesting that the name has New. So it always gives me this courage to do something and people are supportive of that kind of ambition. Although, of course, there is a conservative side here that makes it also super difficult. I think New York is also a place where one can also be quite neutral about New York. And I think that’s this kind of, you know, the distance to the New York. For me, I can somehow manipulate that distance myself. Whenever I want to feel very New York or when I have to be kind of super New Yorker in order to really, you know, let’s say, explain the New Museum. But at the same time, I can take a step back and also talk about the general issues and challenges that are happening in the city and so on.

And I think New York somehow always represents that challenge too, culturally or also building environment wise. There’s always something exciting happening, but at the same time, also challenges are quite apparent. And I think as an architect, of course, I get very inspired by those either, you know, like exciting things, but also the challenges.

And if you had to describe your work in three separate words, what would you what three words would you use?

Specificity, open endedness and beauty.

Thank you to my guest, Shohei Shigematsu, as well as to everyone at OMA for making this episode happen. The editor of The Grand Tourist is Stan Hall. To keep this going, don’t forget to visit our website and sign up for our newsletter, The Grand Tourist Curator at thegrandtourist.net.

And follow me on Instagram @danrubinstein. And you can purchase our first ever print issue of The Grand Tourist online now on our website. And don’t forget to follow The Grand Tourist on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you like to listen and leave us a rating or comment. Every little bit helps. Till next season!

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