Creative portfolio for submission to CU Denver Master of Architecture
Six-Studio Track Fall 2022
Sony ILCE-6000
Olympus TG-2
Ibelieve lives devoted to bringing a single vision to reality are never wasted. I have devoted mine to the attempt to discover and reveal what’s important to me, found along many pathways, and made of diverse elements. I have found that these all meet and reveal a central moment, which can be shared and with which all can relate.
This portfolio is an offering to the CU Denver College of Architecture and Planning, although it began long before my heart turned its way there. When I made the decision to explore the endlessly rejuvenating and exhilarating cultures and environments of the earth, I began to hope that a spark of connection with the experience of this planet could be found and shared. By documenting my experience across many single moments in space and time, I hope to bring you along my design process and to the precise moment I have tried to reveal.
Zachary Denver Duncan
Although I’m not an expert on the stories of the places I go, what’s at the destination, or even where I’m going, I always leave hoping to find a revelation about my own journey, and that people will be able to relate to it.
When passing through the world, it’s easy for me to feel like an observer or a witness. For me, it’s comfortable to float along like that, even if there is a quiet voice asking: “where am I going? What am I trying to do here?” But I’ll remind myself that just to watch, listen, and take in the reflections and angles is enough. Eventually, I can start to see context, often just beneath the surface, and some sort of content always fills that open space.
Pathways
Finding a subject is never enough. I have to look at it—or them— from different perspectives. If patterns of color, shape, and form show themselves, then these hidden structures will come together, and at that point? It’s a matter of timing, depth, and perspective.
Walking down Seattle streets, I saw a flash of colors: a kaleidoscopic monolith three meters high split the light. Behind the prism stood a building, and through the looking glass I looked. Another time, it was a hidden door I found, inside the Monastery of Varlaam. On the other side, shelves full of skulls, incense, and more: a thousand years of holy abbots. Different roads, different lenses; same looking glass.
Elements
I used to take pictures as a witness, as someone just watching things happen. I’d take a hundred photos and hope that one had the right elements of color and shadow to pass. But I don’t want to just be satisfied, I want to be inspired. And out of the infinite diversity of perspectives I was taking, the places, people, and moments that actually mattered to me began to take center stage. All it ever took was the courage to say, “that’s enough,” and decide what it was that did matter to me, not just as a witness of it, but actually there.
When I looked up into the cupola and felt the sun’s light, somehow I felt connected to the timelessness of the structure resisting the spread of time. I felt as if I could somehow see it being built. Phantom scaffolding, workers moving materials, and ten thousand silent sounds revealed themselves.
When looking out at the world, at a building, or a flow of shapes, sometimes I just stop and can’t say anything at all. Time flies when I am caught like this. Absorbed, I can lose myself for hours, and I don’t even know that time has passed. Trying to understand the forms, shapes, and colors, I am peaceful. Eventually, though always too soon, I take the shot.
The kids had followed me through blue alleyways, asking me to play. They had seen my flute, but I was tired and wanted to go back to my room. I often feel rushed to leave. I hurry to make my way to the next place, to my destination—to the place where I’m actually supposed to be.
At the end of the alley, there was a wheel. With a cry, the kids ran off to play with it instead of asking me to play for them. It only lasted a heartbeat, but in and through that brief cry, I was reminded of myself. I believe that once I make space for and recognize the magical human element, the connection I am looking for will be made, and the spark of the moment can be captured.
I had been on the road for awhile, still wet from recent rains, and I took a break near an old building. I took off my shoes and let my socks dry out. Listening to the wind, sun on my face, I was in that moment not thinking about where I was going, or where I had been. Not worried about time, just appreciating that very moment. “I’ve travelled all the way here just to experience this?” I thought. My friend rolled in, having caught up, and all he said was, “well, we’re here.” I looked around. I thought, “you know? Maybe I’m on the right track.”
Zachary Denver Duncan Exploring five continents on anything with wheels.
Contact
✉ zacharydduncan@outlook.com
�� freeformgroup.org
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Coming home, These windows and mirrors and doors Are here, for now. Their perspectives feel so real and true, But! They are tools.