Archi.ru: Totan, when you are asked about your biography, you usually answer: "I was born in the steppe, studied at the Moscow Architectural Institute, I work as an architect." Another well-known fact about you is that you built your first house at the age of 15. That is, even then you knew exactly who you want to become?
Totan Kuzembaev: What are you talking about! I didn't even know what architecture was then! It was the most ordinary mud brick house I made with my own hands. There were dozens of such houses in our village named after Chapaev (Kyzyl-Orda region, Kazakhstan). Five years ago, by the way, I was there, and my house was no longer - grass grows in its place … So, I did not know then what architecture was, and no one in our village knew. I returned after the army and closer to winter I realized that I have only two occupations - playing cards and drinking vodka - and both of them are not very interesting to me. My sister advised me to choose - go to work or go somewhere to study - and I chose the latter, so as not to become a combine operator. I have always loved to draw and, having found the Stroganov and Surikov institutes in the directory of the universities of the Soviet Union, I decided to go to study as an artist. The only thing that confused me was the requirement to bring a still life to the entrance exams. I did not know what a still life is, and no one in the aul could help me with deciphering this strange word, so I had to look for a university that would also teach to draw, but without incomprehensible still lifes. The Moscow Architectural Institute turned out to be such a university. And only after submitting the documents and walking along the corridor of the Moscow Architectural Institute, I saw the tablets with the general plans and began to guess what they were doing here … And I also realized that I probably could never become an architect - it’s too difficult. But I thought: if I do, I will stay to study, and come what may. Here it is also important to say this: of course, I would never have entered the Moscow Architectural Institute on a general basis, I had no training, no idea of the profession. I didn't even know how to draw according to the canons - I circled the outlines of the given subjects in the exam and after 15 minutes left the audience, - but I was after the army and from the union republic, so I had the right to a quota and was admitted to the workers' faculty. For this I am very grateful to the education system of that time - under no other scenario I would not have received such a chance.
Archi.ru: And when did you become interested in the profession?
T. K.: To be honest, he woke up very gradually. At first I was interested in academic drawing, then in geometry. In general, I still learn - everything, from everyone. I think this habit has been with me forever. After graduating from the Moscow Architectural Institute, I was assigned to Rezinproekt - a box in which there were no architects before me at all, only engineers. There, I had to deal with the binding of standard projects of plants, panels of different series, etc. Of course, this is not something that could arouse the interest in the profession that you are asking about, but I had a lot of free time. I drew architectural fantasies: you know, you sit at a drawing board, imperceptibly shift the blueprint with the project and draw different pictures on a Whatman paper with the ink liner. And, of course, together with his friends at the institute, he was actively involved in competitive design.
Archi.ru: You got your first fame as a “paper” architect, participant and winner of many “paper” competitions. How do you assess the experience of competitive design acquired then?
T. K.: Paper architecture was undoubtedly a very good exercise for the hands and the mind. It was she who taught me to submit a project, work quickly, abstract, connect fantasy with reality. In general, contests were then the only outlet and a way of creative self-realization. We understood that in a real country no one needs our knowledge or ambitions. Now it is a completely different matter - in the same interiors and cottages you can realize yourself more than in paper contests, so I personally don't see any sense in the latter. Real opportunities for an architect are always more valuable. Although paper contests are still held, including in Russia, take at least the competition for the concept of Zaryadye or Skolkovo development.
Archi.ru: By the way, you once participated in the development of the project of the Soviet "Silicon Valley" - the city of electronics and computer science in Zelenograd.
T. K.: Yes, in 1986 I was invited to work in the workshop of Igor Pokrovsky. At first, we worked on the "information face" of Zelenograd, trying to give its faceless streets and microdistricts at least some landmarks and create public spaces. In particular, they came up with shopping galleries covered with glass, bus stops combined with showcases, kiosks with displays that would display information about the city, weather, etc. Information towers were supposed to become compositional dominants, and, by the way, they managed to be made in structures, but then perestroika burst out, and the project went to the archive forever. Back in Zelenograd, we designed the Center for Electronics and Informatics - in the plan it was a huge circle with a diameter of one kilometer, along which the towers of various research institutes were placed. It was assumed that this huge complex would become the Soviet Silicon Valley. But again, the restructuring did not allow the project to materialize.
Archi.ru: But, if I understand correctly, it was the change of political and economic regime that allowed you to organize your own workshop and finally engage in real volumetric design?
T. K.: Certainly. I am grateful both to the Soviet regime for the opportunity to study, and to the fact that it ended - for the opportunity to work. And I really do not like it when they begin to indiscriminately find fault with everything that was before: each time provided its own unique opportunities. And what is being done with the city now, it seems to me, is several times worse than how it developed in Soviet times. When a city serves as almost the main source of income, this has a very detrimental effect on its environment. It is elementary difficult to walk and drive along it, I am not even talking about the aesthetic side of the matter. Better space for marching than permanent parking! Yes, the authorities can be blamed for irreversible changes in the urban environment, but after all, architects were required to implement its instructions, and these architects were found, that's what is most offensive!
Archi.ru: Yes, you were incomparably more lucky: at that time you were building an ideal settlement in Pirogovo.
T. K.: If I now thank fate again, it will already sound intrusive, right? And, nevertheless, I am really very grateful to fate that I did not participate in this. What if I would also build glass and then tell everyone that they just put me in this position and with the last bit of strength I saved the silhouette? On the other hand, I, of course, want to work with large objects. Ambition still remains - I want to try.
As for Pirogovo, there was, of course, incredibly lucky with the customer. I knew him for a long time - we designed various small objects for him, and then one day he came to us, said that he had bought a plot of 100 hectares and wanted us to be engaged in this project. At first, he was going to build standard houses for rent on this site, and for a long time we chose a company that manufactures ready-made houses, but we did not like anyone. As a result, we decided to do everything ourselves on our own, putting environmental friendliness and practicality at the forefront. The customer offered to start the experiment from his own house - this, of course, was a very bold step, because then we did not have real experience in wooden housing construction.
Archi.ru: Ten years later, you are considered one of the leading Russian architects working with wood.
T. K.: To be honest, I don't think I know the tree so well. Nikolai Belousov knows him, but I, rather, act intuitively. Intuition has always helped me out in situations where there is little knowledge, plus a sense of the material. Still, wood is the kindest, dearest, tender and warm material.
Archi.ru: There is so much wood in your work today that you involuntarily want to clarify: what materials are you still interested in as an architect?
T. K.: That's it! And iron and brick and stone. For example, I love plastic for its practicality and simplicity. Glass, although sometimes you have to give it up for economic reasons. And there are simply no unloved materials. It is interesting to work with completely new materials, as they provide new possibilities for creating new aesthetic things. Another thing is that they really order me objects made of wood - sometimes I already hate it.
Archi.ru: Is that why your own house was not made of wood?
T. K.: In general, when the construction began, we were going to make a house out of a bar, and the upper floor was to be made in the form of a transparent glass prism. But when it came to construction, the supply of timber fell through, and we had to urgently figure out what to replace it with. The choice fell on the most accessible material at that time - a gas silicate block. But against the background of these blocks, the glass top would have looked completely different from the background of a tree, so they decided to fold the second floor from blocks. Thus, nothing interesting remained from the original idea and it was necessary to come up with something new - this is how the idea was born to let the gable roof ridge in a zigzag. Thanks to this, from a distance, the house looks like a parallelepiped, but from close up it seems that the corners of the ridge are at different heights. And in general, the use of gas silicate blocks made it possible to significantly save money. And a few years later I already built a bathhouse of wood - it looks much more traditional at home and at the same time much more expensive.
Archi.ru: Do you have objects made from materials other than wood in your work today?
T. K.: Not much, but there is. For example, we use concrete - in the project of a manor house in Latvia we are making 10-meter consoles, so concrete was indispensable. And in the Moscow region we are designing the Presidential Polo Club - five stables, two arenas and cottages - and in each of these volumes, wood is combined with other, more brutal materials.
Archi.ru: How is your workshop arranged? How many people are simultaneously working on a project?
TK: In total, 15 people work in the architectural workshop today. There is GAP, there is GUI, there are leading architects, and we try to organize the workflow in such a way that each employee leads his own project - in my opinion, this is the best school for an architect. We subcontract designers and engineers.
Archi.ru: What qualities should an architect have to get a job with you?
T. K.: He must clearly understand what the concept, project and work are, not to confuse these stages and not to do extra work at each of them. And he must also be able to correctly convey his thought to the builders. You don’t need to see me - I’ll understand it anyway, but you need to be able to convey your idea to the performers. Architecture is, after all, words drawn with lines and symbols, and this language must be mastered, if not perfectly, but mastered. Unfortunately, I cannot say this about most of the young architects who come to work with us after graduation. So, probably, the main quality that a person who wants to work in our workshop should have is the willingness to study the profession for a long time and hard-working.
