School of Visual Arts and Pratt Institute's Michelle Duncan on Narratives and Histories, and Taking Your Time
By Julia Gamolina
Michelle Duncan is a recent graduate of the School of Visual Arts’ Design Criticism, Writing and Research master’s program; she also holds a master’s degree in Historic Preservation from the Pratt Institute. Prior to her studies at SVA, Michelle spent time as the Media Relations Coordinator at Robert A.M. Stern Architects and as a Senior Stylist Assistant at Bergdorf Goodman.
Intrigued by stories of design in all forms, the Trinidad-born writer and design enthusiast is especially taken by narratives involving the convergence of history, the built environment, and the human experience, all within a cultural and social context. Michelle recently began freelance writing full-time and is a contributor to the AIA Brooklyn magazine PYLON. Michelle is a member of NYCOBA-NOMA and volunteers with OHNY.
You've studied such a variety of things! Tell me the why for each, and how one led to the next.
I had been doing a bit of modeling after I graduated from college, with law school at the back of my mind all the while. I was encouraged to apply to Harvard's Design Discovery program by a pretty cool uncle of mine who is an architect. At the GSD, the curtains were pulled back on design for me and I entered a world I only had pedestrian knowledge of. Folks outside of the design world may be able to recognize global cities by their skyline or identify a few notable buildings, but the average person really isn't thinking about the built environment in detail. It was fascinating for me to scrutinize it all at the GSD.
I was really struck by how much professional planning and design affect people's quality of life. For the first time, I recognized the influence good, thoughtful design had on one's standard of living. I began thinking about what makes cities, neighborhoods, and buildings truly great and I honestly never stopped. I realized early on that I am not a designer, but I knew that whatever profession I chose, it had to involve some aspect of design and urbanism. During the program, I also got the chance to see the power of an inclusive design process and what happens when communities are involved with dictating their spaces, and I liked the idea. Making the world a better place through design was a two-for-one special for me, so I scrapped law school and got a master's in Historic Preservation from Pratt.
However, I missed the energy and the creative agency people in the fashion industry seemed to have over themselves and their work so I just went back to it after Pratt. I soon recognized that what I loved about design — whether it was architecture, city design, or fashion — was storytelling. All writing isn't the same, though, so while working as a media relations coordinator, I realized that I had a partiality to opinion writing and criticism, so I applied to the DCrit program at SVA.
Tell me how your experience in fashion then informed your pivots to publishing and eventually to architectural communications.
I always loved writing and while at Bergdorf, I had a personal blog and was writing for a fledgling fashion site, thinking that my love for storytelling would be just a hobby. I had been going back and forth between fashion and architecture, simply doing whatever felt right to me in the moment, all the while, trying to make some sensible kind of connection career-wise because I wanted to be involved in both at the same time. Although they're both design disciplines, in my head, fashion and architecture belonged to these two disparate worlds — one seemed to be fueled by a free-wielding frenetic energy and the other was cerebral and staid.
Before my epiphany though, I really thought that I had to choose between the two; I was determined to figure out a way to fuse them, though. At Bergdorf, it was standard for designers like Michael Kors and Diane Von Furstenberg to come into the store and spend the morning with stylists, having breakfast and discussing in detail the inspiration behind their current collection. We'd get to hear from couturiers and other specialty designers, about the artisans who'd spend thousands of hours hand-sewing 10,000 tiny crystals on a gown for instance, or about the remote Italian village where custom prints were sourced from a small family-owned business. I loved those mornings because of those stories! Narratives are what led me down the preservation path too, so when I finally made the connection, I decided that I should probably be writing full-time.
You spent some time at RAMSA before SVA. Tell me about your time there and what you learned about the industry.
As someone who has studied preservation, I am biased toward anyone who understands history's role when designing the built environment. In that regard, there was no better place to work than at RAMSA. It was a real pleasure to be around architects whose design ethos is firmly rooted in historical and environmental context, which, contrary to the belief of some, can produce very distinct architecture when done correctly. I just think that having respect for history when designing lends more consequence to a project and RAMSA's work proves that.
Anyone who knows Bob — as Robert Stern is called around the office — knows that he is a dedicated educator and a lifelong learner. He's a voracious reader and consumes a wide cross-section of news every day — so important for an architect! Bob would give lectures once a week in the evenings at the office. The lectures were actual archived lectures from his time at Yale so the information was always rich. I love his reverence for books and the fact that we were always in the middle of publishing one. At RAMSA I definitely saw how important it is for architects to be students throughout their careers.
We'll focus on your most recent Masters at SVA. What were some of the projects that were most meaningful to you there? What are some of the initiatives — extra-curricular, perhaps — that you focused on?
Time for activities outside of the classroom — which in this case was my apartment because Covid kept us from assembling — was extremely limited. The DCrit program at SVA is intense because of the time-frame — it usually runs from September through April. My class actually started our first semester 3 weeks late because of delays due to COVID-19 so we basically only had seven months to complete a master's program, thesis included. The pace was at lightning speed, but the beauty there was that I was laser focused and did practically nothing else but intensive writing for seven months. My thesis was my most significant project, and for my study, I did some investigating into the painting of the plywood sheets used to cover storefronts during the height of the pandemic. The painting happened in many major cities across the country, but I focused specifically on what occurred in SoHo.
That phenomenon held different meanings for different people and I am grateful to have had the chance to dig into it. I am deeply appreciative of everyone from the artists to business owners to residents who shared their stories with me — I learned so much from all of them. Dissecting those stories further cemented in me, the importance of both architectural and cultural preservation. I also got to see first-hand, the power of art and the value in creating, or at the very least, facilitating physical spaces for collective expression when planning and designing neighborhoods. And sadly, I also got to see why physical safe spaces for people of color, especially African Americans, are necessary. I learned so much in such a short space of time! I could write a whole book on it.
When searching for internships and jobs, what are you you looking for?
I always check to see if a company's work and fundamentals line up with my personal values.
What’s important to you? What inspires you?
Aesthetics are never just about physical appearance for me, so maintaining a healthy dose of curiosity is very important. Pursuing a “What, who, why, when” sequence of questioning really helps; I use it on everything I'm studying, from the built environment to a napkin. I guess I'm inspired by the knowledge I'll find at the end of a quest and the fact that I get to chop that up and really figure out what's going on with the subject or object I'm studying. It's like digging for the gumball at the bottom of one of those flavored icy treats that come in a cone, and then chewing the hell out of it.
I've always been really concerned about spatial justice and equity of access to public places. There is too much division and inequity in the built environment, but it's a problem that is 100% man-made. Designers have a lot of power to correct a vast majority of those issues and to make sure mistakes are not repeated. The rest of us have a responsibility to get our minds right, too. We need to recognize that inequity in the public realm has always been a choice, and then choose differently.
What do you hope to do in your career?
I really hope to take the hidden stories behind design and use analysis and criticism to help us gain a deeper understanding of who we are as a society. Design is a reflection of a confluence of circumstances at a particular point in time so it's a great way to unearth latent culture. Design is such a great tool for gauging the values and people we hold in high esteem, and also the ones we disregard. I really want to continuously remind us about ourselves, whether I'm pointing out the good stuff or the disgraceful.
Who do you look up to?
I look up to the women, and men, who are always willing to help others succeed. I remember a few years ago when I was still feeling my way around design publishing, I reached out to Andrea Monfried for an informational interview. She was so open and willing to share her knowledge when we met! She actually secured a pass for me to attend that year's AIA conference with her and she introduced me to a couple more people in architectural communications and design publishing, including Lisa Green and Kristen Richards…may she rest in peace.
Kristen and I kind of took to each other and it was either later that evening or the next day, the two of us went for drinks in the West Village. We just talked and talked all evening as if we were longtime friends. She told me her entire life story and I was truly in awe of how she lived her life doing the things she loved. The way that whole situation unfolded was very encouraging and I made some significant connections. None of these people knew me at all and I didn't know them either. They just knew what I was trying to do and knew they could help. I'll never forget it and I'm always willing to pay it forward.
In terms of a writer, I absolutely love a good read — pun intended — from Robin Givhan.
What advice would you give to those in high school now, choosing their field of study?
There is absolutely no need to rush choosing your path. Take your time. Explore as much as you can. And don't feel an obligation to anyone or any circumstance when deciding your direction — your chosen career should be totally up to you and done on your own terms. When you find that subject or activity that you're good at AND that really lights you up, continue to pursue it. Doing something you love will make a huge difference to the quality of your life in the future. And if there are several things that really get you going and you find it difficult to make a choice, see if you can find a way to incorporate them all into your life -- don't think you have to sacrifice one for the other. You may not be able to pursue all your loves to the same degree, but there's no need to ever abandon any of your desires. You may be surprised at the innovative ways in which you're able to integrate all of your interests. Your unique cocktail of curiosities is really what will set you apart as a professional.