Ms. Strangelove... or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Architecture... 5/5

By the end of that semester, Natalie had become a treasured mentor and a dear friend... to many of us. Gradually her hatred for men would melt... she realized we weren't a bad lot, but Glen Forley, a fellow escapee from NY and instructor, would catch her eye... and heart (awwwwww). She instilled a bit of swagger in some of us... the results of our work and praise we got from other instructors went to some of our heads (oh, the stupidity... ok, maybe naiveté... of youth). We made some pretty stout friendships that carried us through the remaining three years... some I am still honored to call my friends even today (IYKYK 😉). I would not have Natalie for any more classes, but I would work for her and Glen, on the occasional project. I would see her around the building from time to time and at an occasional crit. I would still consult her when I needed... and I would be sad when it was time for us to part... her back to NY before I was finished with my penultimate year and eventually me to Cedar Rapids/Iowa City after graduation.

During that '87-'93 tenure, my classmates and I were in the midst of so much change at the Department of Architecture during our tenure. Natalie, Glen Forley, Laura Miller, Richard Sommer... all of them "outsiders" (I believe Laura was actually an Iowan gone to the East Coast for school and back again... a bit edgier) who were there to show a bunch of clueless Midwestern kids in the middle of Nowhere, Iowa that 'Architecture' was more than drawing buildings. Eventually, we would take all that into the real world, some of us in wildly different geographical and professional directions.

She carefully and selfishly photographed the work of all of her students... they were just as much testaments to her work, her care, her pedagogy, as they were our responses to the challenges given. She wanted us to cherish our own work as much as she did... to take care of the models, the drawings, the sketches... (I do still have a few on hand) to remember the ideas behind what we had done as much as the product of the ideas and process. She wanted us to be as proud of our own work as she was. Looking back, I think some of my work in her studio, as well as later ones, were as good as any nationally and internationally published pieces from other renown schools, architects, and firms... even if a bit on the naive side of constructability (but nothing today's Jeff couldn't fix).

Natalie introduced me to Elizabeth Diller and Ricard Scofidio (and the very sweet, very hip, very cute Victor Wong... yes, I think I had a crush on him... fucking sue me) at their Tourisms: Suitcase Studies installation at the Walker Art Center in 1991. It was my second encounter with "known" architects who I respected, even revered, at that time. We spent the day roaming around the exhibit and listening to ideas and stories. They became more human, more relatable... but still intellectual gods. I may still have come across as some dumb Midwestern kid maybe trying a bit hard to "be hip", but I respected their work and practice. It was such a pleasure and inspiration to see what wonderful things architects could design and make, even if not explicitly buildings. It was also intriguing to see two people be partners in life as well as work... not something that happens often, especially in architecture (oh, the egos... IYKYK 😂).

Natalie was the first person I remember that ever seriously talked to me about what happens when we die. I don't remember how or why we got on the subject... fuck, we talked about so many things... including my stupidity for being in a fraternity (another story... or stories... for another time... maybe). I just remember the gist of what was said in that moment when it happened... sitting, maybe in the school studio, or working in hers, on one of her projects with Glen... late at night. It wasn't preachy or dismissive... it wasn't some traditional religious or New Age-y bullshit... it wasn't nihilistic... it was actually quite... touching. To paraphrase,

One moment you're here and the next... you're not... you blink and... you're gone... no out-of-body experience, no light, no angels, no ghosts. Death is not a bad thing; it's just the way it works. When you look at it that way, life is so important... to live, to enjoy, to struggle, to work, to love, to be, to cherish others... to make the most of it... to strive to make beautiful things you will leave behind.

Sadly though, not everyone gets to choose the quality of their life... well, not fully in control of how it unfurls. But for those of us with the fortune of having first-world problems, it was very... liberating... to hear someone put into words, with such commitment and belief, what I had been struggling with for so long. I wouldn't say that moment ended my struggle, but it did provide a poignant benchmark for how I would eventually reconcile...

My parents did get to meet Natalie one weekend when they came to visit me at school. I was excited to introduce them to each other. All three were very important people in my life. But I was caught off guard when upon the introduction Natalie exclaimed "I'm in love with your son!" as she giggled and shook my parents' hands... yeah... (but not like THAT... get your heads out of the gutter, you pervs). Immediately, she realized it sounded... unusual, so she clarified by impressing upon them how proud and impressed she was by my work and me as a person... and that they should be proud, as well. I had some explaining to do later 😂 (all good... but boy, was THAT awkward for a while). Like I said, we both went through a LOT of challenges and changes over the course of our time at ISU (again, keep it clean, folks). I think it was a challenge for my parents to understand a lot of what I was doing at architecture school 3-1/2 hours away from home... and how this petite woman so unknown to them could have such an impact on their son. I was changing... for the better I think... not by Natalie's efforts alone, but through the whole experience with my peers, friends, and a few other teachers... an atmosphere that was a strange soup of very conventional Midwestern and new multi-cultural pieces, influences, and experiences. The more I learned, the more I wanted to know... knowing it would irrevocably change the way I looked at the world, including my family and the life we had lived to that point... not in a dismissive or disparaging way... just, different.

The last time I saw Natalie was March 2018 in NYC. I was in town for a very geeky technical meeting hosted by HOK and found it the perfect opportunity to seek her out and catch up, if briefly. She was (and still is!) working as an art, interiors, and architecture professor at Parsons, while also engaged in a side gig... Pillow Culture. Her first Pillow Culture exhibit, "Test Bed", had recently opened at the Parson's gallery and she had an afternoon/early evening to spare.

Catching up was a treat, learning the fates of my other former teachers and her students from those years... and my own family. I wish we had more time. There were still a LOT of things to talk about... but I guess there is never enough time, is there? In retrospect, it is a deep regret of mine... not staying in closer touch over the intervening years... not being able to share more ideas... not being able to nurture a mentorship and friendship that so significantly changed me. Maybe I would have made different choices in my career... and life, in general. But... it is what it is.

Natalie, I can never thank you well enough for what you gave me... more a start of something than a neat "package" or singular thing. I'm sorry if I didn't reach high or push far enough... but I was always guided in significant part by what you taught me. I always looked for the potential of things, the meaning of things... and how I might be able to make "it" better. Even as my path has unduly narrowed and shortens, I'll aways be a version of Jeff that never would have existed without you.

I love you, Natalie Fizer... more than you'll ever know, or I can ever articulate... as a teacher, a mentor... a friend... everyone should be so lucky to have.

FIN