Doctor of design

Jeff Roberts , April 1st, 2009

Art, history, timelessness and pursuing platonic happiness.

Dr Taha Al Douri was born in Baghad, moved to Jordan with his family when he was six and remained there until enrolling in the Masters of Science in Architecture at Pennsylvania State University [USA]. In 1995, Dr Al Douri moved to Philadelphia and enrolled in the University of Pennsylvania’s PhD in Architecture programme.

In 1997, Al Douri moved to New York City to practice architecture and teach, in an adjunct capacity, at the New York Institute of Technology (NYIT). 

From New York City he moved back to the region to be closer to his Amman-based parents. After a four-year stint at the UAE’s University of Sharjah – where he helped set up the university’s architectural engineering programme – Dr Al Douri was contacted by former colleagues at NYIT to lead an Abu Dhabi branch of NYIT and create an interior design programme.

He has been chairing the programme since 2007 and recently completed the accreditation process with the UAE’s Ministry of Higher Education. Jeff Roberts caught up with Dr Al Douri to find out more about the man behind the lecturer’s podium. 

Why did NYIT choose to launch a programme for interior design rather than architecture?

Al Douri: We decided to focus on interior design because when you’re introducing design culture, interior design seems more intuitive. Architecture is much more theoretical, complex and collaborative.

It requires an extensive background of study; there seems to be quite a bit of interest in design culture here, but there’s not enough knowledge of how to approach, utilise and express that interest. It’s our belief that we really need to train people from this region to work in their own environment rather than import designers, which is what has been going on far too long in the region.



How does the design culture differ here from in the US?

Al Douri: The Gulf region has historically revolved around commerce and maritime life. So, design, as it relates to the built environment, has always hinged on the availability of materials, geography, climate and things like that.

The Gulf has specificity to it so when we talk about it, we need to distinguish it from cities like Cairo, Baghdad, Damascus – larger cities with longer histories in urbanism and design.

If we’re to create any type of parallel with the United States and use it as a basis for comparison, it would have to be the US at its very inception.

At its inception, the US was also a land of transplants. Although there is a defined local identity, the resultant identity of the place is essentially a mixture. Dealing with this type of transplanted culture and heritage and still making reference to the environment is very much a parallel with the US.  

It’s been said that the architecture in the UAE is patchwork; that it lacks harmony. Do you agree?

Al Douri: Yes. This is the result of a number of factors, some of them are technical and some are aesthetic. First, the aesthetic: In order for you to develop any kind of design taste, time needs to pass. There is a functional aspect of design which cannot be fully understood until it’s tested. The time for testing and experiencing has not passed yet. So, it’s inevitable that you end up with that patchwork.

Dubai is built around a concept of text and erasure or re-establishing and removing. They make the flashiest or most interesting and then they quite happily tear it down to replace it with something else. This kind of balances the patchwork because a city like Dubai will eventually harmonise and homogenise. 

In fact, being a painter myself, there is always a vast difference between a painting when it first forms and when it’s finished. A lot of the lines do actually get erased and covered by something else. This allows the artist to reach that point where the space on that particular canvas is his or hers. A masterpiece takes quite a bit of trial and error; a city’s not very different from that.  

To go back to the technical aspect: The biggest problem is the lack of enforcement of a specific and universal building code. Building codes lead to specifications, installation techniques and maintenance solutions. Building codes go to the heart of build quality. 

Building codes are about having the rules and regulations enforced harmoniously without too many exceptions. A lack of [codes] results in variation and unevenness. Now, one could argue that it results in interesting things but ‘interesting’ is a rather nondescript term that could lead to disaster. ‘Interesting’ is good but when you’re dealing with people’s lives, interesting must stay within limits. The lack of enforcement of these codes is partly responsible for this quality of patchwork.

Tell me about the NYIT experiment and the students its attracted.

Al Douri: We are the only co-ed university in Abu Dhabi. I don’t know how relevant that is to the nature of the students I’ve had, but I was very pleasantly surprised by their level of sophistication. They have manifested a great ability to mature and development. There is a vast difference between where they were two years ago and where they are now. I was struck by how adolescent they seemed when I first began. 

For example, it was difficult to discuss some things that we would consider quite basic, such as, ‘What does it mean to put your name on a project? Why does it matter to perfect it just because your name is on it? What is professional integrity? What does it mean to be on-time for your morning class? Why is attendance mandatory?’

It doesn’t matter to me that a student simply follows the rules; it’s more important to me that they believe in them and follow them out of self-enrichment. I always say to them, ‘Don’t take a course because it’s in the curriculum, examine your own reasons for taking the course. It will change the experience completely’.

What do you tell students is the key to becoming a good designer? 

Al Douri: Because we teach design, you cannot separate the ability of the student to produce work that reflects their own mind set, their psychology, the temperature of the room or the colour of the walls. By the very nature of the subject, the students develop very sensitive clusters of feelings about everything. We encourage them to become living radars. We try to encourage them to see and feel and experience everything around them.

I always tell them, ‘The minute you start talking about something around you and no one else in the room seems to see it, you know you’ve developed the senses you need to become a good designer’. That’s really the nucleus of good design; you need to see more and dwell on it and extrapolate it mentally, especially when it’s not evident to others around you.    

In your projects, do you try to adhere to a specific design theory or is it completely contextual?

Al Douri: They’re not mutually exclusive. Context is a philosophy. Architecture is a secondary text. The need for design is never design itself. It is always a response to something external, whether it’s social or political or cultural. Necessity is a highly defining element of what will happen in a space.



Architectural revelations are probabilities. When you have a blank space and you design it a certain way, you never know what will happen in that space once it’s inhabited. As an architect or designer, you only present an opportunity or occasion or probability for something. Secondly, the design job never really ends with the work of a designer. Inevitably, people use spaces in different ways and the designers simply need to let go.

Architecture often reflects the history of a city. Does having a historian father influence your work?

Al Douri: Of course. If you perceive history as passage to a theoretical conclusion and speculative thinking, it’s indispensable not just relevant. Was my upbringing relevant? Yes, it was as relevant as the cereal I was fed as a baby. It is part of my make-up; it is part of who I have become and I always taught my students that history is a lesson of humility.

As great as we have become as a civilisation, the projects we work on today are not really the greatest or the best or the highest or the tallest. Those who worked before us had much fewer means than we do and they did things that we are still dwarfed by; they did things that we still cannot even fathom. The reality of the matter is that when you see what’s been done before, you realise how much work you still have to do.

The other thing history teaches us, which is especially important for design, is to be original. I always say to them, ‘Make all the mistakes you want, but don’t repeat mistakes. Make original mistakes. Be original even in your mistakes’.

What lessons do you try to impart on your students?

Al Douri: I always teach the students, one way or another, about Plato’s concept of happiness. I try to teach them that they should not wait for their life to begin.

Within our lives we all have the ingredients to find happiness if we know how to articulate it. That starts with knowing one’s own desires, affinities and tendencies. In identifying where you find joy, you will excel. Even with the most mundane things, we are entitled to enjoy them. 

‘Timelessness’ is always cited as an important goal in architecture. Is it a goal in interior design?

Al Douri: I have several issues with your question. First, I am essentially an architect. But I refuse to separate the two. I’m not even suggesting that interior design is a subsidiary of architecture, it’s not. Architecture is a point of convergence for all aspects of life at a certain moment in time and space to create the quality of that space. How can you separate that from the interior of that space? You can’t. 

In my view, interior design tends to be a bit more transient. That’s not because it’s fashionable or trendy, because fashion is based on irrationality.

Interior design is more transient because of the nature of materials used. For example, if you’re looking for comfort, the fabric of the chair we’re sitting on can last only a certain length of time. Conversely, how long could the interior of the Pantheon last? It has never changed. 
  
I take exception to the concept of timelessness because that which is truly timeless, tells the story of its time. You will never have a blank text that speaks of nothing, amenable to any kind of intervention at any point, and call it timeless. To me, that is an intellectual void. So, in fact, what is most timeless is that which is most contextual. 



What is your favourite project that you had nothing to do with?

Al Douri: It’s the Temple of Queen Hatshepsut in Egypt. The thinking behind it is so advanced, it’s fantastic. It’s set at the foot of a very striking vertical stone cliff. It’s I think it’s extremely advanced that when they wanted to build a temple to commemorate one of Egypt’s greatest rulers, they didn’t try to compete with the mountain, they went beneath it.

The structure itself is just three terraces that lead to a very subtle burmed colonnade that you see only from the front façade. It is such an incredible understatement; so sophisticated. Not to mention, the ramps and columns are not ornately decorated, they’re just plain, and thus, so modern. It is absolutely timeless. It requires no maintenance, no revisiting, no reconsideration.

Anything you’d like to add?

Al Douri: I just want to stress that design is not something that is simply taught. Design doesn’t begin at the school level; it’s ingrained in the sensibilities of the person. Secretly, we’re always designing for what we know and what we love. That is precisely the reason design may be the disciplines that are very much related to where you study and practice. The driving force for me in everything I have ever done is my passion for art. My natural desire for composition and visualisation is what continues to drive me.