On Sunday morning I woke up to a message from an old friend from Asakura Robinson Company, a landscape architecture firm in Houston.
Unfortunately, the news was a complete shock, Patrick Chang, one of the principals, had a sudden heart attack and passed away over the weekend.
Patrick wasn’t a principal at the time I interned at ARC, but he was one of the lead PM’s at the small office. As I pondered my two summers with him, I realized how much I have modeled myself upon his example. He was a superb project manager, thoroughly understood the technical aspects of the profession, and could run a project to make great drawing sets.
More coarsely, Patrick knew his shit and made the trains fucking run on time. He never bothered to get his license, but he was exactly what you would have wanted in a landscape architect, except for passing a couple tests.
He worked hard (maybe too hard) but he would also take the time to talk shop at that dingy cafeteria with a big vinyl graphic of a tulip garden at the basement of 2990 Richmond. And those conversations were real. Since he wasn’t a principal, he was honest about how things were going, both good and bad, about outsiders and within the hierarchy. He spoke truth about the firm and the profession. He didn’t have to hide what annoyed him, because he was confident in his love of the work.
For some folks, A+D is a passion that’s obvious upon first contact. You aren’t just an architect, you’re an AAArrrkkitect. I’m envious of those folks, cause I’d like to be super cool like that, but that just ain’t me. I like the job, I enjoy the work, and I want to run a smooth process while banging out clean drawings. But I’m not going to be all in your face about how much I love this shit. I mean, I do, but I don’t have to keep emoting all the time, do I?
The phrase I kept mulling all Sunday was that Patrick had an irascible love of the game.
He wouldn’t wear it on his sleeve, but it was obvious that this was his passion. He loved the profession. He loved his teammates and he loved the work, the design, the documentation, the process. In all, I worked with him maybe four months. Not a long time, but his example has resonated throughout my career, even if I don’t huddle up in a dark blue hoodie every time the air conditioning goes into overdrive.
Every Christmas I send out a holiday email out to old friends and colleagues. And every New Years, Patrick made a point to say hello back and see how I was doing. In a couple months, I’ll send out another card, but he won’t respond. He was the consummate professional.
He will be sorely missed.
