Bringing Your Best Work to the World: Dattner Architects' Ruth Ro on Authenticity, Inclusive Spaces, and Complex Projects
By Julia Gamolina
Ruth is a Principal at Dattner Architects, leading the design of large-scale, mixed-use projects. Ruth’s interest in real estate politics and her background as both an economic development analyst and painter have shaped her understanding of consensus-building and its importance within urban architecture. Her approach to working with multiple stakeholders is characterized by a commitment to problem-solving through design and collaboration – balancing multiple aspirations.
She is also a leader and vocal advocate for diversity, equity, and inclusion, both internally and externally. She spear-headed the formation of Dattner’s EDI Committee, has been an active member of AIANY Diversity and Inclusion Committee, serves on the board and advocacy committee at Build Out Alliance, and advocates visibility, speaking on topics surrounding identity in the workplace, inclusive workplace culture, and equitable design. She is also committed to building equity and inclusion in her community of Montclair where she serves as a board member for AAPI Montclair and MFEE, facilitates discussions on race with local school communities, and participates in K-12 pipeline-building. In 2021, she was recognized as one of Crain’s Notable LGBTQ Leaders and Executives.
In her interview with Julia Gamolina, Ruth talks about all of the forces that have made up her career and her new responsibilities as partner, advising those just starting their careers to be true to themselves, especially in the workplace.
JG: We’ll start from the beginning – tell me about how you grew up, and what you liked to do as a kid.
RR: I grew up poor as a child of immigrant parents in the ministry. My father is a Southern Baptist Minister, and my mother’s job is to be “the pastor’s wife.” I was born in Seoul, Korea, and we emigrated to the States when I was three. We started out in Queens and, very soon after, we moved to Louisville, Kentucky, where my father pursued his doctoral studies in theology. Neither of my parents were gainfully employed. We lived off credit cards and the charity of friends and family members.
I had little concept of what “being poor” meant, but my peers did. You figure it out eventually when they ask, “You live in the ghetto, don’t you?” We lived in student housing where everyone struggled financially in service to God. Those were my formative years, though it represents only eight of my many years of life and only one of many places I’ve lived.
I attended nine different schools, four elementary schools, two middle schools, and three high schools. My parents would move, or move back, or there were issues with schools – at the time the disruption felt normal, but in hindsight and especially having kids of my own, I realize this instability has a lasting impact. I’d say I had an experimental childhood, one that required you to sink or swim.
Preparing team for client presentation (Credit: Dattner Architects)
Building 303 was developed as part of the Brooklyn Navy Yard Development Corporation’s mission to foster and promote urban industry. (08, 10, 11 Credit: Pavel Bendov) (09 Credit: Dattner Architects).
What would you say you learned from these years?
I grew to be very resilient, but this meant I knew how to put up a wall and hide my vulnerabilities. I didn’t have a chance to plant roots, so I kept my distance from people and avoided deeper friendships. But I loved making friends and discovering commonalities. Believe it or not, something I loved as a kid was door-to-door sales! Anytime there was an opportunity to sell Girl Scout Cookies or fundraise at school, I jumped at the chance. Even now, I can be very reserved but I love meeting new people and making connections.
Because of this attitude, I did well in school. I was very much a go-getter – I was the fifth-grade class president, president of the junior honor society. I think I moved through the world with an ignorant bliss, lacking self-consciousness. Externally I observed what people can be and I adopted that persona. It was during a class field trip that I first realized I was very different. It was an 8th grade trip to a French restaurant and all the girls, including myself, were wearing white dresses, all looking the same. But when we stood in front of the mirrored glass lobby, I saw my reflection and was taken aback. I didn’t recognize that person.
Louisville in the 80s was a very homogenous place, and your goal was to assimilate, adapt, and blend in. There were no discussions of race. Only when living in coastal, metropolitan areas did I experience first-hand racism, prejudice, and inequality. In some ways, I was lucky to be sheltered when I was younger, not knowing about poverty and racism. It was during high school, outside of D.C., when I was cast as an outsider. That was eye-opening, because as a child, I never faced that.
How did you get your start in architecture?
My father being a pastor and my mother having never worked didn’t teach my siblings and me about how to make a living. All they knew was that education was important, and that the three of us would figure out how to survive. It was the classic Gen X parenting style. My sister, my brother, and I all went to good schools, but we also ended up majoring in philosophy, religion, and fine arts [laughs]. We gravitated to these disciplines that were not going to translate into a job! How does one convert a philosophy major into paid work?
I found freelance work in publishing, and figured that eventually, I’d write my own philosophical work. That was the aspiration. I was copyediting and proofreading children’s books for Scholastic, which is how I found out that the Babysitter’s Club was ghostwritten by a man.
“Architecture is not something that is siloed from the rest of the world; to me, architecture is part of a larger ecosystem that has an impact on the future of neighborhoods.”
Oh my god!
Yea, that was enlightening! And he’s a very nice guy too [laughs]. However, publishing didn’t pay. I abandoned that path and I decided to pursue bartending. I think this was very much connected to my door-to-door sales inclination and love for meeting people. Bartending, hosting a party, and being able to interact with people in this way is something I still enjoy. I just guest-bartended at a fundraiser last night!
I tended some theater bars, but I didn’t have a salary or benefits. It was my older sister, the fine artist, that hooked me up with a full-time job at the admissions office at the Parsons School of Design. One of the benefits was tuition remission and the chance to take free classes. I was dating my now-wife at the time, and she was raised very differently – New England, liberal, upper middle class, highly educated, career-driven, all of that.
She was telling me then that I needed to choose a career. I said, “What do you mean? This is my career! I have my office job, and I bartend in the evenings!” She disagreed and after offering some career counseling, she concluded that I should become an architect.
I grew up with little means. Architecture was never on my radar. This is one of the reasons we have a pipeline issue in our profession, attracting and retaining individuals from diverse backgrounds – design exposure doesn’t reach the communities we need engaging in architecture. We encourage our employees at Dattner to go to K-12 schools and career fairs and introduce students to architecture at an early age and plant seeds. The hope is that 20 years from now, our profession will reflect the population.
When and how did you officially make becoming an architect a pursuit?
That same year, I enrolled in an architecture summer program at Parsons and later that fall, my wife encouraged me to apply to graduate schools in architecture. I still have my paper calendar from 1999 where she wrote down all the application due dates, portfolio due dates, the interview dates, everything. Undeniably, it is because of her that I am where I am right now and am who I am right now.
The Hub was one of the first buildings to go up as part of the Downtown Brooklyn rezoning which recognized the need to densify near transit. (Credit: Lester Ali)
The Hub was one of the first buildings to go up as part of the Downtown Brooklyn rezoning which recognized the need to densify near transit. (Credit: Lester Ali)
That’s amazing – go Amy! Where did that take you?
Even in architecture school, I still gravitated toward philosophy, theory, and pondering the conceptual. I thought I might go into academia, teach history, and get my PhD. But then 9/11 happened, and I just became obsessed with what was going to be built there. I ended up working with the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation in the office of development and economics. We had tons of data and research prepared by consultants including McKinsey and our job was to take that information and propose ways to revitalize Lower Manhattan. We were talking about micro-mobility, delivery services, hybrid offices, rebranding existing assets. It was all so much fun but eventually it came to an end. I applied for jobs in consulting but failed because companies wanted MBA grads. I was lost, not knowing what to do next. I had this degree from Columbia and nothing to show for it.
So, I got my real estate license and started painting on the side. I created a website where you can order custom portraits and somehow it was picked up by Daily Candy. Before social media, there was a newsletter called Daily Candy that was emailed to millions of New Yorkers and it featured only one product or service or destination a day. They somehow found my website and deemed it the must-have product. I opened a studio in the Meatpacking District and painted portraits for four years straight.
It was a good time, but I got really burned out. I thought, “I can’t do this anymore.”
What did you do next?
I had this final exhibition called “Icons of the Meatpacking District,” because I started to see how the neighborhood started to evolve. It reminded me of all the things that I had read about and done with the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation. I started talking to people and got to meet amazing folks like Amanda Burden, the former City Planning Commissioner, Diane Von Furstenberg, Robert Hammond and Joshua David, founders of the Friends of the High Line, landlords, residents, business owners, you name it. I wanted to meet everyone in this neighborhood. I told them, “I’d love to paint your portrait.”
Over time, I built this collection of portraits from the ecosystem of this neighborhood. This was my way of connecting the dots in terms of how a neighborhood is developed. It’s not just a developer and an architect; you have a whole community, city agencies, business interests, resident interests, open space advocates. Then, Andrew Rosen, the CEO of Theory found out about it, and contacted me. He wanted to show the work and hosted an exhibition of the portraits at the new Theory store and headquarters that was opening in the Meatpacking District. I’d like to think that this show brought people together. Folks who were for or against the High Line, for or against the Landmarks designation, for or against the hotel – they were all there.
“My advice to young architects is to be yourself, find your purpose, and let that lead you to places versus focusing on goals. Because when your values and work align, you will know you are in the right place.”
Did you find your way back to architecture then?
When this was going on, I was fascinated with The Porter House by SHoP. To me, The Porter House was like a canary in a coal mine; the fact that this luxury condominium was built when there was still blood on the sidewalks and you could smell the carcasses, was amazing. I remember thinking, “I need to speak with Gregg Pasquerelli.” We connected and had a fascinating conversation about architecture and real estate development. He was telling me about some neighborhood scale projects he was working on, and I realized that that’s exactly what I wanted to do. I said, “Gregg, I think I’m ready to go back to architecture,” and he said, “Why don’t you come work for us?” So, Gregg brought me in, and I started working on some large-scale mixed-use projects that had a ton of stakeholders, and this was all super exciting to me.
How did you get to Dattner?
The market was tough in 2009, and a lot of projects went on hold. This was across the board for the industry. The partners at SHoP had some great relationships with other architecture firms and found temporary work for us. I was set up at a firm called Ciardullo Associates. There, I met John Ciardullo. He was telling me about a NYCHA housing project he designed. It was a low-rise, human-scale development in response to the alienating towers in the park. He spoke in the end user’s perspective. At the time, I was designing schools but talking with him more, I realized that I wanted to be involved with civic architecture at larger scales.
In 2012, I came across a post for a position at Dattner Architects – they were seeking an architect who wanted to work in a mission-driven firm dedicated to civic architecture. I remember thinking, “This is it.” The job description read like my resume. I met a few of the partners and we immediately connected. From day one, I knew I had found the place that was going to empower me to realize my potential.
What have you learned in the last six months?
I was elevated to Partner this year, and the last six months made me realize that there already is a never-ending well of worries to keep you up at night. Richard Dattner always said that the office is a project, and I truly believe that. He sat me down and said, “Congratulations on your new role…and now, your job is to find your replacement.”
Wow.
The message is that, to keep the firm going, you must give it constant attention. It’s been a tough market for development these last six months. Becoming a Partner where my primary role is to continue bringing in good, quality work at a time when interest rates remain high, and developers pump the brakes on their projects…it’s difficult. I need to understand the markets better. I attend more real estate investment conferences now, so I can know what the developers are thinking and where the funding is coming from for potential projects. Unless I understand that, I can’t plan where we need to look for our next big job. This period has been eye-opening for me. I have a greater interest in, and a greater need, to understand what’s going on in the markets. Ironically, my brother who majored in religion is now a prominent markets reporter.
Icons of the Meatpacking exhibition brought together stakeholders who played key roles in the evolution of the Meatpacking District. (Credit: Patrick McMullan)
Ruth and wife, Amy, and their three children, Ollie, Lucy, and Charlie. (Credit: Suburban Jungle).
Who are you admiring right now?
The people I’m admiring right now are my colleagues on the boards that I sit on. I’m a Board Member of the Build Out Alliance, as well as AAPI Montclair. I’m also a board member of MFEE, the Montclair Fund for Educational Excellence. The pandemic was life-changing for many people, as was the murder of George Floyd, the rise of anti-Asian hate, and the surge of anti-LGBTQ legislation. I’m excited about the conversations we’re having in architecture right now about equity and social justice. These conversations need to be at the forefront of how we’re designing and thinking about design. Architecture is not something that is siloed from the rest of the world; to me, architecture is part of a larger ecosystem that has an impact on the future of neighborhoods.
Finally, what advice do you have for those that are starting their careers, and do you have any specific or additional advice for women?
There’s a point to this story. We talk a lot about authenticity like it’s something that comes easy, but it’s something that we all keep working on. What does it mean to bring your whole self to work and how do you do that? I can’t change who I am or what I’m drawn to. I try my best at being me, being vulnerable, wearing my heart on my sleeve, and wherever that takes me, so be it. It’s the desire to connect with clients, consultants, and colleagues because you will find something in common. So, what this means is that when I meet someone new, I find a way to come out…every single time. Usually, it’s in the context of them asking me what I did the past weekend, and I say, “Oh, my wife and kids and I did such and such.” I’m always inserting my identity into casual conversation. It’s important. As a Partner, I try to create a work environment that is inclusive, to give everyone an opportunity to do their best work, and to encourage diverse perspectives. My advice to young architects is to be yourself, find your purpose, and let that lead you to places versus focusing on goals. Because when your values and work align, you will know you are in the right place.