Architect Kate Webb '83 sees things that others do not
By Brian Eule
Somewhere along the Hudson River just north of Tribeca, there is a professional golfer sitting on his toilet, gazing across the entire length of his loft and out upon the river. There are rooms between this bathroom and the magnificent windows that overlook New York's famous body of water, but Kate Webb '83, the loft's architect, built a series of strategically placed glass panes along the walls so that the residents could maximize their space and still enjoy the view from almost any spot in the loft. And that includes the toilet.
When the loft was finished, Webb asked her client if he enjoyed this added touch. "Yes," he said, "I appreciate my throne."
Webb is made for New York, and, lately, New York's sense of style is being made by Webb. The architect has earned a reputation for creatively taking full advantage of small spaces (a July 2003 profile in the New York Times bolstered this reputation), and on an island where one and a half million people cram into 23 square miles, every inch counts.
Walking her tiny dog down the narrow streets of a trendy and bustling neighborhood in Lower Manhattan, Webb gesticulates wildly as she speaks. Her energy level is so high, she seems to speak in fragments, and it's this same sense of manic pacing that fuels her creative process.
One of four kids, she grew up not far from here, in a two-bedroom apartment near Washington Square. Her father built a triple-decker bed in one of the rooms for three of his children. Webb's bed, on the bottom, was blocked by curtains on one side; her two brothers' beds, directly above, had curtains on the other side. The result was a division of the room, a sense of privacy. Three children's dressers were stacked by the foot of the beds, each facing the appropriate direction, and her father built a door in the small space between the beds and the dressers.
That's where Webb says she learned how good design needs to work on multiple levels. And its influence is apparent in her work. In an almost complete penthouse loft with a stunning view of the Empire State Building, Webb built connecting bedrooms for the client's two children, with a half door between the two rooms. The children are both young now, too young for real beds, but Webb had their future in mind when she built space atop their closets for lofted beds, complete with electrical outlets for reading lamps and alarm clocks. That area is now used for storage, but when the children are old enough to have beds, it will free up the floor space and keep the open feel of the apartment.
"She was able to fit an amazing amount of things in our space," says Layla Law-Gisiko, the owner of the penthouse. "Four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a study. ... She's an enlightened despot. She takes the input you give her and then she takes over, and you have to understand that's good for you. She doesn't compromise with the design. She's very much a creator of space."
You're not supposed to become friends with your clients, Webb says, since they're paying you and you need to keep that level of professionalism, but Webb can't help getting close to some of the people she works for. She's a free spirit, after all, and she wears her thoughts on her sleeve. Plus, it's the nature of being a residential architect. Clients and architects must talk daily, and Webb finds that when a client shares information about his or her family and their lifestyle—things friends share with one another—she learns things that have a great impact on her design. In turn, Webb has built a relationship that can support a frank exchange of ideas.
Webb was never one to keep her ideas quiet. For this, she says she fits in well in New York, but felt misunderstood almost every other place she has lived in as a professional.
It was in her sophomore year that she took a class called History of the City, with Glenn Andres, that made her want to go into architecture, and she followed it by taking every class related to the subject. Webb double-majored in art history and French and took an internship with an architectural firm. Eventually, she would find her way to a job in the Chicago offices of the firm Skidmore, Owings & Merrill, but the environment didn't feel right for her from the start. She had to be there at 8:30 a.m., no later, and she was told to be out of the door at 5:00, sharp.
"What if you got inspired at 4:30?" Webb asks. "I'm more of a creative person. More of a free spirit. I was never on time."
Every day, she'd sit at a 30-foot table with her colleagues. She'd look around and see the gray décor, the corporate style, and think, "This doesn't fit my personality." Inevitably, on the days she arrived late, a voice would boom over the office speakers, "Kate Webb, please see your studio head."
After 11 months of feeling out of place, one of her friends pulled her aside. "Kate, why don't you give your notice today?"
Webb frowned. "I wanted to last a year," she said.
But it wasn't worth her happiness, and she left the firm. After earning her master's degree in architecture from Harvard, she worked in Barcelona, working on designs for the 1992 Summer Olympic Games, but the culture in the firm in Spain wasn't much better for her. Webb knew she had to come back to New York.
She returned to the city and thumbed through the Greenwich Village Yellow Pages, looking at the architectural firms, starting with the letter A. She got a temp job with Asfour Guzy Architects. Then, a month later, she hit the B's and got a job with L. Bogdanow & Associates.
"Where did you hear about us?" she was asked during the interview. Webb thought a second, then replied: "Mr. Y. Page."
A year later, Webb branched out on her own. With her former boss passing along all the projects that were too small for his firm, Webb got off to a quick start, and her business has only accelerated since.
Word of mouth works fast in New York. Webb's work now includes both commercial space, particularly restaurants, and residential space. She constantly juggles multiple projects and tries to take a personal approach with each client. After spending time discussing ideas with them, Webb usually presents three design proposals that are very different. She meets again with the clients and learns about their tastes and preferences from the aspects of each proposal they favor and dislike.
"It works for me," Webb says of the way she's been working since 1994. "It allows me to be myself. It makes the process enjoyable."
No gray, no corporate feel. Just the free spirit from New York, no longer misunderstood.
Brian Eule is a writer inNew York City. He profiled Rubik's Cube-whiz Dan Knights '01 ("The Cubist") in the spring 2004 issue.