Architect Hopes to Restore Synagogue After Tragedy

For people who are older, what are the most important parts of a residence?

You have to make a building that is easy to navigate, that is easy to enter. Of course, to me, it’s less about functionality, about here is the best kitchen, here is the best bathroom, here is the best sink. It’s about creating a total environment, a sense of home. I never believed that the home is like a machine, like a robot. A home is something spiritual.

How can we make these kinds of buildings more human?

I’m working on a cancer-care facility in London. It’s not just a factory or an industry of illnesses. It’s a place to acknowledge that people have depth. Even if they have a bad diagnosis, they need to share it, to have a space that is private and a space for a kitchen for dinner with other people, a space to do yoga, a space to read a book, and so on. Again, it’s very close to my heart, not just because of my age but because that’s the humanistic tradition of architecture that I have always believed in.

What wisdom have you acquired later in life?

I’ve turned 75. I’ve learned that it takes time to be young. When you’re really young, you act really old. You have these limited ideas of the world, like an old man. But when you live longer and have some perspective and love, of course, for kids and grandkids, then you realize that the world is a joy. It’s a wonder to be alive.

What drew you to the Tree of Life project?

They came and murdered Jews in a synagogue. It shocked me because when we came to this country, we believed we came to a country where Jews are free to be Jews, where there is no violence and people can practice their religion and their beliefs. That’s what drew me to Pittsburgh.

What are your dreams for that assignment?

You have to create something that affirms Jewish life in America, that affirms that we are an integral part of the very fabric of this country.

You were a master planner behind the Freedom Tower to commemorate 9/11. What did that mean for you?

History is a testament to those who are not there to testify as witnesses any longer. At ground zero, for example, think about some 3,000 people, from all walks of life, who perished. It’s a testament to create memories as an urban space. Monuments are for those who don’t know or haven’t experienced the history.

What are you most proud of with that project?

I wanted the maximum amount of public space possible. And I achieved it. Because out of the 16 acres, more than half — more than 8 acres — is space for the public. It’s a place for people to come: You can have lunch, meet your friends. You can exit from the subways and come and have a sense that it’s a meaningful place.

How has being the child of Holocaust survivors shaped your work?

I grew up in Poland in Lodz, a city that had hundreds of thousands of Jews. There was nobody [Jewish] left. It taught that you should never give in to authoritarianism. You should never bow your head to fear.