20 WSJ. MAGAZINE
WSJ. asks six luminaries to weigh in on a single topic. This month: Home.
MOSHE
SAFDIE“When I was a student
in the late ’50s, I was
awarded a traveling fel-
lowship to study housing
in North America. I
visited public housing
projects, luxury apart-
ments and suburban
developments. I discov-
ered that a full life in a
home is led both indoors
and outdoors. Any form
of an apartment that
denies you that is not a
home. Out of this defini-
tion, I developed Habitat
67 in Montreal; it broke
up the normal structure
of an apartment build-
ing into modules—
in all—that stack up
almost like a hill. It
was really important
that people not feel like
they were one cell in a
beehive. For me a home
is light and openness,
gardens and courtyards,
views into landscapes
or a distant skyline. The
reaction to the design
was absolute enthusi-
asm. Now, 50 years later,
many of the original
residents are still there.
Kids born in Habitat have
children of their own.”Safdie is an architect and
urban designer.“Lately when I think
about home I think
about this planet. Part
of the challenge with
environmental conser-
vation is that so many
people call cities home,
and that trend is only
accelerating. What does
it mean when your home
is a concrete jungle?
The urbanization of the
global population has
created this intense
disconnect with nature.
Farmers have an internal
understanding of what
is shifting—weather
patterns, storms and
droughts—but if you
live in a high-rise you
might lose track of these
things. I know that I’m
not just one of eight
billion people on this
planet, but one of eight
million species. Every
time a submarine goes
down, they discover
a new species. There
is sadness around the
thought that we may
drive some species
extinct before we ever
knew they existed.”
AYA NA
ELIZABETH
JOHNSONDr. Johnson is a marine
biologist. She is the founder and
CEO of Ocean Collectiv and the
founder of Urban Ocean Lab.
“The apartment I lived
in when I first moved
to New York in 1984
was in what I often call
the ugliest building
in Manhattan. It’s now
called the Left Bank,
which is a misnomer.
There’s nothing Left
Bank about it. I lived on
the first floor, and there
was a gay gym below.
One could hear the throb-
bing disco music. There
was a little pseudo-
balcony that was about
the size of a barbecue
pit, but you couldn’t bar-
becue there. This was
during the Reagan era,
and homelessness had
reached crisis propor-
tions in New York. So
I was aware, to some
extent, of both the
precariousness and
flimsiness of my home,
my little apartment on
Sixth Avenue. It was
still a prized possession
because the rent was
very cheap—an illegal
sublet way below market
value—but also because
of the people living on
the street and the sense
of urban emergency.”WAY N E
KOESTEN BAU MKoestenbaum is a writer and
cultural critic. His novel Circus:
Or, Moira Orfei in Aigues-
Mortes was reissued in July.SOAPBOXTHE COLUMNISTS
Gachot is an interior designer,
hospitality development
consultant and co-founder of
the design firm Gachot.CHRISTINE
GACHOT“The concept of home
is universal, but it’s
also deeply personal.
They are places we craft
or places that we find
ourselves by circum-
stance. It can be with
people we love; it can be
a place where we feel we
don’t belong. There is a
vulnerability that comes
with a conversation of
home. And you have
to understand that home
is not always where you
live. Your connection
to home can change over
time—it’s an evolution
of one’s life. It’s always
about some form of
shelter, whether that’s
physical or emotional
or both. But it is also
very telling about where
you are in your life.
Right now, my home is
about my family. My
husband and I vowed to
create a warm, secure
and fun home for our
two boys regardless of
location or the physical
space. And that makes
our home a gathering
space for people we love.
It’s hard work, but it’s
very rewarding.”Meyers is a director and
screenwriter.NANCY
MEYERS“I grew up in a house
that was a little bit like
The Man Who Came to
Dinner—we had a guest
once who came for
dinner and stayed for six
months. Sunday break-
fast was always a hub
of activity. My bedroom
was painted yellow, and
to this day if someone
asks me, ‘What’s your
favorite color?’ I say,
‘Yellow,’ even though I
don’t own anything
yellow. But you can’t es-
cape the comfort of
those kinds of feelings.
I remember when we did
Father of the Bride we
painted the interior
of the house very pale
yellow. We must have
done 20 different yellow
tests. I see the word
aspirational a lot when
people describe the
homes in my films, but
the houses are meant
to reveal the inner lives
of the characters. Iris’s
house in The Holiday
was cozy but cramped.
She wanted more out
of life. It’s all a part of
the storytelling.”“Home brings to mind
a place that is linked
with emotions. It’s an
emotional state, a place
to connect with your
family and loved ones.
But a place that you once
called home can also lose
that quality over time.
It can become an empty
space, lonely. I feel most
at home in Italy. I was
born and raised in Turin.
My father’s side came
from an area close to
the mountains between
Italy and France. He was
an art collector, and he
used to come home with
pieces of modern art.
I really enjoyed that. My
mother’s side was the
musical side of the fam-
ily. She would play piano
all the time. It was like
jasmine in the air; it
filled the house. Now I
love to have plants in
the house. I also love the
color of fruits and veg-
etables. I take long
walks, too. I basically
take the same route
every day. It’s also where
I feel at home.”LUDOVICO
EINAUDIEinaudi is a pianist and
composer. The final three
volumes of his seven-part album,
Seven Days Walking,
will be released this summer.