Tribute to a Master Builder

As an architect, Frank O. Gehry has borne prophetic witness to the beauty inherent in the provisional. His is an aesthetic honed by a lifetime of fearless dialogue with the material ambiguities of a Southern California environment, where everything from light to land seems always to be shifting. For that reason, as much as for his inventive and humane buildings, we take special pleasure in his receipt Monday of architecture’s highest award, the Pritzker Prize.

“My approach to architecture is different,” Gehry once said. “I search out the work of artists, and use art as a means of inspiration. I try to rid myself . . . of the burden of culture and look for new ways to approach the work. I want to be open-ended. There are no rules, no right or wrong. I’m confused as to what’s ugly and what’s pretty.”

Gehry’s courage in the face of our world’s anxious confusions is a singular feature of his work. So, too, is his faith in the dignity of ordinary materials--corrugated metal, plywood and chain link, for example--and willingness undertake the risk of collaboration. One such experience--a performance piece executed with dancer Lucinda Childs and composer John Adams--gave rise to thoughts that speak directly to the future of a region where not only land and sea, but also people and cultures collide:

“We wanted to make something that none of us would have done alone,” Gehry said. “When you agree to collaborate, you agree to jump off a cliff holding hands with everyone, hoping the resourcefulness of each will insure that you all land on your feet.”