Remembering Andy MacMillan

August 18, 2014


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Emeritus Professor Andrew MacMillan OBE, 1928 – 2014

Professor Tom Inns expressed the feelings of  the whole GSA community on hearing the sad news that Andy MacMillan had passed away:

“We were saddened to hear the news that Andy MacMillan had passed
away.   Andy’s association with the GSA spanned more than seven
decades from student to Head of the Mackintosh School of Architecture and
latterly as Emeritus Professor. He was one of the greats of post-war British
architecture and his legacy is visible not only in his buildings but in the
lives and work of generations of architects whom he taught, challenged and
enthused.  He was a generous, inspirational man and everyone who met him
came away better for having done so.  We will miss him greatly and our
thoughts are with Angela and the family at this very sad time.

ANDY MACMILLAN – A LIFE IN PICTURES


With Isi Metzstein in the Gillespie, Kidd & Coia studio
(photo: The Glasgow School of Art)










Relaxing on a Gillespie, Kidd & Coia studio day out
(photo: Joseph Fitzgerald)
At Our Lady of Good Counsel, Dennistoun.
(Photo: Epic Scotland)
With Isi Metzstein at the opening of the Gillespie, Kidd & Coia exhibition.
(Photo: Epic Scotland)

At the Mackintosh centenary celebration
(Photo: The Glasgow School of Art)




Memories of Andy


I first met Andy MacMillan thirty
seven years ago when he was atop a 3 lift scaffolding erected in one of the GSA
first floor architecture studios, the limited floor space at the bottom being
reserved for those who either suffered from vertigo or were late comers.
 I was at the bottom, the blame lying with Scotrail.  

Andy taught both Penny Stone and
myself, and it was his encouragement which led us to where we are today – still
practicing.  The Mac, through Andy’s leadership, seemed to be just one BIG
family event.  In 1983 I worked on the Paris Opera House competition in
the Gillespie Kidd and Coia office with Andy, Izzy Metzstein, their partner the
late John Cowell and Peter McGurn.  Our submission didn’t win, or even get
placed, but it was an insightful experience developing this very complicated
design with two of Scotlands architectural greats.  MacMillan would arrive
early in the morning but worked only until mid afternoon, the day being
punctuated by Angela’s frequent visits.  On the other hand Metzstein
arrived late, but would work long into the evening until it was time for both
of us to retire to the Halt Bar for a Glenmorangie. 

During a whirlwind visit to
Glasgow from Zimbabwe, Penny and I visited the GSA on Wednesday 21st May, the
day before the fire.  I had imagined that with his extensive knowledge of
the building Andy would play a significant role in the GSA reconstruction.
 Sadly that is not to be.

Richard Beattie 
GSA Alumnus, Architecture



                                                                                       



I was
very sad to hear that he had died at the weekend. It has been a sad year for
the school. I think though that he would have taken the view that his was a
life well lived. I last sat and chatted with him at Cafe Gandolfi during one of
the presentations for the re-design for George Square, last year. 

I had
the privilege of being a young naive student of architecture when both he and
Isi taught us – and sometimes terrified us, during studio time at the school.
Having to stand up and present a design to them took a bit of doing I can tell
you. They were a formidable duo but with maturity I look back with very fond
memories of those times with them both. I feel privileged having shared time
with them both – they seemed inseparable.

The end
of an era.

Alastair
Barclay

GSA Alumnus, Architecture

                                                                                              

Thanks
for letting us know.  I have fond memories of Andy, going back quite a
long way.  I remember the riotous day we gave him and Isi Metzstein
Honorary Degrees (2008, I think it was).  A lovely, wise, gentle,
unforgettable man. We need to mark him well.
  



Sir Muir Russell
GSA Governor

                                                                                                  

I recall that when I was approaching the critical stage of my
final year design, he made additional tutorial time for me by inviting me to
his home one Sunday afternoon to spread drawings out on the dining room table
with Angela fetching the coffee. Despite not being a star student, he still
made time to help when support was needed. For me this went beyond his duty and
demonstrated an outstanding commitment to his role.



Graeme Pert
GSA Alumnus, Architecture

                                                                                                  



Like so many other
fortunate people I can say I knew Andy MacMillan for a very long time indeed,
in fact for more than thirty years. Because once you made his acquaintance it
was not something you would care to terminate.

Andy was the Head of the Architecture school when I enrolled as an art student in 1975, but as one
who exclusively dated only architect students I grew to know Professor MacMillan
very well indeed. But such was the size of his personality that students from
all departments would have no trouble in knowing who he was, and more
importantly, what he thought. About almost everything.

He was renowned by our gang for many
things. He was always being available to discuss anything with his students
seemingly at any time, he could reduce the strongest of them to tears in
tutorials when their work failed to impress, yet nevertheless he remained
universally loved for his intelligence, vision, mischief, blunt speaking,
humour and overwhelming generosity.

Andy was well known
far outside the sphere of architecture and the family of the GSA, and was a
towering figure of importance across Scottish public life and the international
stage. He became a minor deity to students during one term when he was spotted
in a Sauchiehall Street bar having a drink with Billy Connolly, then returned
up the hill to lecture as if that happened every lunch time.

The memories are too
numerous to recount, but as recently as last winter the GSA choir had the great
pleasure in taking part in an architecture student’s dissertation on acoustics,
by visiting two of Andy’s iconic churches and singing in them for her
recording. Andy, his wife Angela, and an eminent architect friend visiting from
the USA accompanied us on this mini tour.

It had been many years
since Andy had been to the buildings, and as we finished one song we thought
we’d performed rather well we noticed him gazing up, clearly moved, as Angela
patted his arm in comfort.


I told him how humbled I felt  that we GSA students and staff singing
our hearts out, in a building he’d designed with such vision and passion, had
so inspired him that he’d welled up.

“Oh not at all.” He replied.
“I was actually just wondering what bloody idiot thought those light
fittings were a good idea.”

We only half believed
him.

He leaves behind a
design and learning legacy of incalculable worth, and a football sized crowd of
people who loved him. That, surely, is a life well lived.

Muriel Gray
Chair of the Board of Governors
The Glasgow School of Art


                                                                                                                              

Andy MacMillan was not just a Professor, he was the
Master. He was amaster in the Renaissance sense of an uomo universale. An
excellent draughtsman who ran (together with partner Isi Metzstein) one of
the most successful architectural ateliers in post-war modernist Scotland; the
man who as director of the Mackintosh School of Architecture brought it to its
position as one of the most respected schools in the world; and an incisive
critic whose published and broadcast works offer original and enduring insight
into architectural and urban culture.


He was also a great conversationalist, story-teller,
and all-round life and soul of the party. He’d turn up with a bottle of the
Macallan or Calvados (even into his 80s) and he was the guy everyone wanted to
talk to until the wee sma’ hours. It’s fitting in a mad and sad way that his
last day was spent adjudicating on the Doolan, the national prize for Scottish
architecture. But he wasn’t just popular and massively respected on the
national scene; those anecdotes until daylight would include stories of his
international japes and scrapes with the likes of Jim Stirling, Daniel Libeskind,
the Smithsons and Enric Miralles.


His father had been a railway porter and a gas
streetlighter but Andy claimed that his great grandfather was clan chief of the
MacMillans, and that he himself was the rightful owner of Castle Sween. That
alleged blue blood in his veins didn’t, however, affect the Glasgow dialect on
his tongue. Nor did any pretension ever creep in when it came to understanding
how people really dwell in buildings. Of the Highland peasantry and their small
thatched rubble houses, he once said to me, ‘It was an outdoor life. And that’s
no wonder – you had your coo pishing doon at one end of the house, and your
granny pishing up at the other.’ Never was architectural criticism so sanguine,
nor so trenchant.


When Gillespie, Kidd & Coia 1954-87 collected
works was published in 2007, he signed my author’s copy with ‘It’s moving to
read a nice obituary before you die.’ The truth is, not enough nice can be said
about this man.
Professor Johnny Rodger
The Glasgow School of Art
(as published in Building Design)
                                                                                                  

Andy MacMillan was post-war Scotland’s most
charismatic champion of the art of architecture. His tireless and infectious
advocacy reached wide audiences and his activities stretched from
internationally-significant architectural practice to academic leadership,
teaching, writing, broadcasting and chairing architectural competition and
award juries. He was an outstanding designer, draughtsman and an unforgettable
teacher. In person he was indefatigable, incorrigible, passionate,
iconoclastic, witty, fun, down to earth and seemingly indestructible. He left
this world peacefully after suffering a brain haemorrhage at the end of another
good day’s architectural work judging the RIAS 2014 Doolan Prize. He was 85 and
had been immersed in architectural activities for almost seventy years.


He will be chiefly remembered for two key
architectural legacies; in practice and in education.

His partnership with Isi Metzstein and their creative
leadership of Gillespie Kidd and Coia produced a body of religious and
educational work that revelled in spatial virtuosity, tectonic quality and the
poetic expression of structure and light and brought the practice the RIBA Gold
Medal in 1969. That output extended the architectural language of the first
generation of modern architects by drawing on both historical as well as
contemporary sources for its inspiration. Their architectural preoccupations
and values were explored vividly in the 1999 exhibition, Themes and
Variations
curated by Mark Baines and the subsequent book, Gillespie,
Kidd and Coia, 1954-87
by Johnny Rodger, published by the RIAS.

Andy was emeritus professor of architecture at the
University of Glasgow and a pioneering head of the Mackintosh School of
Architecture at the Glasgow School of Art. He taught and lectured across the
world and held visiting professorships at several international universities.
With his much-missed partner Isi Metzstein he was awarded the RIBA Annie Spink
Award for excellence in teaching and he had a profound influence on several
generations of architectural students. The interlacing of academia and the
profession throughout his life placed him within a European tradition of a
practising professor rather than the UK higher education orthodoxy of becoming
a traditional university-based academic.

He had a gift of communication and was a master
raconteur

My first encounter with Andy was almost 40 years ago
to the day when, as a seventeen year old part time student at the Mac, I
attended one of his history of architecture lectures. Two things about that
talk were memorable, typifying his personality. One was the collection of his
evocative coloured acetate sketches he used throughout and the second was his
reference to an article in Playboy magazine that he had read; a
publication which to my knowledge has yet to be included in any recommended
peer reviewed journal listings. Andy’s love of drawing and his unpredictable
sources of references characterised his lively and passionate approach to
architecture. He had a gift of communication, could command an audience and was
a master raconteur.

As I got to know him as a student in the years that
followed, his availability to discuss student studio projects seemed endless. I
was able to knock on his door for a personal tutorial whenever he was around or
see him in the studio. We students seemed to have access to him despite his
many other duties as head and partner in practice. How he managed this, was and
( ow that I also combine being a head and practice), still is a mystery to me.
The tutorial routine seldom changed; my drawings were greeted by him with some
brief colourful comments followed by his swift but insightful sketches,
reframing my attempts in a more compelling way. I learned from him by watching
and doing rather than intellectualising at arm’s length. His own formative
years were spent in an office, rather than a university and this gave his
approach to studio education a direct and uncompromising flavour. Without
irony, we would be instructed with, ‘don’t listen to what an architect says,
look instead at what they do’. We had however the opportunity to make similar
assessments of Andy’s own architecture given that he had a very visible and
visitable body of work in the public domain and he welcomed those discussions
with us.

Andy remained busy after his official retirement as
head. He was awarded a Lifetime Award from the RIAS and from Scottish Design.
He was chair of the RIAS Doolan Award for best building in Scotland, became
honorary vice president of the Glasgow School of Art,  Charles Rennie Mackintosh
and Alexander Thomson societies. He took great interest in the work of emerging
practices, particularly those led by Mac alumni and his attendance at our own
practice openings, always gave us special pride. After I became head of the
Mackintosh School, he became an enthusiastic collaborator on our book, Uneasy
Balance
, exploring the relationship between Mackintosh’s School of Art and
Steven Holl’s Reid Building or as he put it, ’my latest deep thoughts on
Mackintosh’. Our planned series of publications over the next few years
exploring other aspects of Mackintosh’s Glasgow School of Art Building will
sadly have to proceed without his involvement.

In today’s audit-focussed learning and teaching
industry, it’s hard to accommodate Andy’s approach to academic administration
obligations (‘don’t do it’ was his advice!). However, his cavalier attitude to
the processes and procedures of institutions contrasted sharply with his
availability, seriousness and generosity as a tutor. The passion and extent of
his creative output help remind us all of what is in the long run vital and
what is not.
He remained a student of architecture through and
through

In some ways, Andy never left the Mac and the Mac
never left him. His scholarly interest in Mackintosh’s School of Art building
and his paternal interest in the Mackintosh School of Architecture remained
throughout his life. He enjoyed popping in for coffee and a chat with
former colleagues and his name will always be associated with the institution
he loved so much. His last visit to us was shortly after the recent fire and he
was anxious to study the damaged library. Characteristic of his personal as
well as intellectual relationship with Mackintosh’s masterpiece, he told me
afterwards that the recently damaged and newly exposed structure had both
brought a tear to his eye and also made him realise that he hadn’t fully
understood Mackintosh’s construction after all these years. We will sadly never
hear his revised version of that lecture. Andy was the consummate architect,
teacher and remained a student of architecture through and through. He leaves
behind both a large community of colleagues, alumni and architectural friends
across the world as well as a huge hole in UK architectural life. He was the
very embodiment of a life led to the full and one immersed in creativity and
learning. It is no exaggeration to admit that we loved him deeply.


Professor Chris Platt
Head of The Mackintosh School of Architecture
The Glasgow School of Art
(As published in the Architects Journal)