When the news of Zaha Hadid’s death hit on the morning of March 31st, the shock of its suddenness, fueled by the power of social media, set off a tidal wave of emotion that swept across the architecture world. Hadid was known by everyone—if she was not quite a household name, she came close—and, regardless of what you thought of her work, she was a presence like no other. Born in Baghdad in 1950, she was, at 65, barely into middle age by architecture standards. Her 400-person office in London, where she had lived since 1972, when she arrived at the Architectural Association to study under Rem Koolhaas, was busier than it had ever been. There seemed every reason to believe that she had years, even decades, of fruitful practice ahead of her. More than any of her peers, she had succeeded in pulling off an architectural trifecta: her work was intellectually ambitious enough to excite critics and students; it was practical and buildable enough to engage institutional and, increasingly, commercial clients; and it was, almost always, unforgettable.
You have 0 complimentary articles remaining.
Unlimited access + premium benefits for as low as $1.99/month.