This is NOT a serious talk about architecture. This to the profession as "Dad's Army" is to Military History.
I started in 1978 when we drew by pen & pencil, computer aided design was way below the horizon, fax machines were perhaps in design and the mobile 'phone, well what can one say? The RIBA gave us 5 working days to reply to any reasonable request for information, the fax reduced that to five minutes, the mobile 'phone to 5 seconds. Builders occasionally called us Sir ( even if they did spell is "Cur") and life was just more...civilised. But when it went wrong, boy did it go wrong. We trained for as long as surgeons do, but where as surgeons can bury their mistakes, we had to face the wrath of the client.
Come, be amazed, be entertained, ask questions. This is Architecture as you've never thought about it.
Views: 462 | Enquiries: 6My name is Julian Richmond, I am a sixty something retired architect. When not speaking or reading or writing or watching my cat Jeoffry watching ships pass our flat along the Solent I dream up plans for world domination. Or is that Jeoffry?
I spent most of my career working for the public sector, viz. local government, MoD and the NHS looking after their vast estates, balancing that with single parenthood and ministering to the needs of three Guinea pigs, a mad Cocker Spaniel called Biggles and some eccentric girl friends.
I deliver a very light hearted ( some would say hilarious) talk called "A Portrait of the Architect as a Young Man" in which I take you on a romp through the absurdities of the early years of my career in practice, starting in the pre-technology late 1970s.
There is humour to be found in all professions (well maybe not Accountancy or Quantity Surveying) but in the construction industry there is plenty. Bricklayers who can't count; ground workers who don't understand Pythagoras; clients with VERY dangerous pets and those constantly endeavouring to "get one over"
"Pevsner on the medieval architecture of Hampshire" this is not ( U3A warning!)
I use eight illustrations, either passed round or as slides to emphasise how, why & when it can all go terribly wrong...
Everything I take ( less reasonable expenses) I donate to Macmillan Cancer Support who have assisted me with kindness through my Cancer Journey ( as they call it) from diagnosis through treatment to aftermath. Alternatively I can donate it to Cancer Research UK, or if the donation is an even number, I can split it 50/50.
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