Memories
Jocelyn
I first met Rick when I began working at Peter Miller Books. I was a 20-something architecture student, anxious and close to graduation, still figuring out what direction life would take me. One of my earliest memories of Rick was his response (likely over a glass of wine in the back of the shop) to learning that I was also finishing a degree in music -- something that to many other people seemed to make little sense. Rick was immediately enthusiastic. Within a few weeks, he had gifted me a book on renaissance architecture and music, something he claimed I would be able to make "more sense out of" than he had been able to. To have someone so esteemed (I feel like he would hate this word choice) so openly express their confidence in my abilities and genuine interest in what I had to say -- despite the fact that I was five decades younger and deeply insecure -- meant so much to me. Rick truly saw me, in a way that was rare and important at that time in my life.
Over years in the shop, we formed a friend/mentorship over glasses of wine, dry humor, and our shared interests (including our mutual distaste for socializing at busy shop events). When I found out I got into an elite architecture graduate program on the east coast, I shared the news with Peter and Rick, and Rick's reaction has stuck with me to this day "I'm happy for you, but you'll be absolutely unbearable when you come back." We all laughed, and he told me I had to go. He said he was proud.
Rick's friendship, trust, and support in those years and the scattered emails and lunches in years to follow has been foundational to my growth as an architect, an educator, and a human being. It meant so much in those early days to have someone I so admired, who was so completely out of my league, so completely in my corner. I don't know if our friendship was unique -- this was the kind of person Rick was. Things that seem to matter so much to people didn't matter to him at all. He was genuine and generous, he didn't suffer fools, and he gave a shit about the people who mattered to him, and made sure they knew it. In our last correspondence, I told him that I'd begun teaching at a university out east, and he signed his response with "see you soon."
I am so grateful to have had the chance to know Rick. It's hard to imagine what he'd want to hear said about him at an event like this, and I am very sad to miss being there in person. Thank you or the opportunity to share these memories.
Jenn
Rick was such an inspiration - both personally and professionally. As the daughter of an architect, I heard Rick's name throughout my childhood, growing up knowing he was one of the best. The sketch he gave me over a decade ago hangs in my living room and I'll cherish it for the rest of my life. It was truly an honor to getting to know him.
Jane
I remember the first time I met Rick. I was working at Pike & Western Wine Merchants that had moved into the ground floor of the newly completed Pike & Virgina Building in about 1980. He was buying wine for the the office Thursday night crit. A lot of wine. I was tasked to deliver the cases to the Olson Walker office on the Hillclimb. Several years later he asked if I wanted a job at since I was going there every week and their about to retire bookkeeper could use some helps d I agreed. The office had more than afew people with birthdays in the month of October, including myself, and I still recall Rick's 40th birthday in 1982. A milestone I remarked! His reply was that he was planning on living until he was 84...just missed by several months...Rest in peace dear friend
Wil
In grad school at UW Rick reviewed my tectonics studio final project. Our team put all our effort into the structure and facade, and everything else was neglected. Rick called it a "decorated shed." I cherish that humiliating lesson. Years later, he joined us at GBA and it was a privilege to work, draw, visit projects, and banter with him. His humor lives on through our stories at the office, and his thoughtful craft in the lessons he shared with us.
Hill
Rick was a wonderful mentor and a huge influence on me as an architect and role model.
I absolutely love the sprinkles he kept on his desk so he could add them to donuts for his granddaughter when she came to visit.
He was generous with his time, letting me pick his brain about design approach, watercoloring, building teams, and how to get away with saying the things to clients that he said!
Melissa
Noreen
I had been volunteering with Rick’s initiative to build in Tanzania when, one day, he essentially looked at me and said, “You’re up, kid.”
And just like that, I was off to Tanzania — by myself — helping direct the construction of a house for 12 kids.
Up until that point, I’d never been in charge of anything remotely that ambitious, so there was definitely a moment of, “Wait… you’re sure you want me doing this?”
But Rick believed in me, gave me the opportunity, and supported me throughout the whole experience. It was one of those experiences that challenged me, stretched me, and taught me more about myself than I ever expected.
So, thanks, Rick, for believing in me — even before I was sure I was ready to believe in myself. I’ll always be grateful.
Bob
Such great memories working with Rick at the beginning of my career in Seattle. I got lots of car time with him driving to meetings and site visits in his Saab as we worked on multiple projects at Whatcom Community College over several years. Rick was a firm and kind mentor and I learned so much from him about design (clear plan diagrams, structural expression, and careful details) as well as how to navigate client , consultant and contractor relationships. The Seattle design community has lost a champ.
Ming
I remember Rick's energy and booming voice in the office and his pinky being the perfect size for a floor reveal. He was a mentor to me.
Ellen
My earliest memory of working with Rick is punch listing at the Frye, circa 1996, shortly after I joined Olson Sundberg. I had about 2-3 years of experience under my belt and none of it included contemporary architecture. I was shy and on a very steep learning curve and Rick could be…shall we say, intimidating? But once I realized Rick’s gruff exterior protected a big heart, I became more comfortable asking him questions and benefiting from his knowledge and mentorship.
A few years later, Rick and I worked together on the Auburn Library which, for me, was a mentored study in Golden Section window proportions. He got a kick out of the fact that I took the ratio so seriously my Window Schedule had NASA-level, gnat’s ass dimensioning that was, on retrospect, utterly ridiculous.
Much, much, much, much later, Rick and I worked together again for a short while at Graham Baba Architects. Rick was still Rick all those years later…noodling on design problems, slinging shit where shit was deserved, enjoying the collegiality of a design office, and silently and unknowingly reminding me of the importance of mentorship in our profession and how lucky I was to learn from one of the best.
Leann
I was so lucky to work with Rick right out of school. He welcomed me into projects and made me feel like an important part of the team. His collaborative nature helped shape the way I work now. He once had a trip to DC and I jokingly said "bring me back a statue of the Washington Monument"...and he actually did it! He had a way of making people feel seen and heard...and significant. A wonderful way to be in the world...
Mary
I was a lighting designer who worked on many projects with Rick - Wing Luke, Tacoma Art Museum, Seattle University Law Building, several residences. Both Rick and I always enjoyed making meetings fun. A laugh or two seems to facilitate the design process. There was no one who made design more fun than Rick!
Ric
Rick sponsored me for my election to the college of fellows. He did it at a time that he was starting a new firm, president of AIA Seattle and numerous other activities. He did it selflessly, which was his nature. He led by example; it was the hallmark of his professional manner. He was direct, not abrasive, but effectual. I fondly recall the time he stood up in an important meeting about a troublesome entity and loudly proclaimed we should just buy them out. Rick was very effective as well as talented. Our architectural community will deeply miss him. Fair winds and positive tides Rick!
Rick M
Rick Sundberg is among the Northwest’s leading architects with work ranging from single-family residences to major civic commissions spanning over fifty years. Within this diverse portfolio is a consistent commitment to the thoughtful integration of place with constructed space, the careful crafting of spaces through material and detail, and an unwavering commitment to serving marginalized communities and people in need while building a better city for all of us.
In the mid-seventies and early eighties Rick worked with Jim Olson and Gordon Walker on what are now iconic mixed-use residential projects including the Pike and Virginia Building and Hillclimb Court, bringing national attention to an evolving context specific form of Pacific Northwest modernism and urbanism. Later the Frye Art Museum and Wing Luke Museum, demonstrated, by each being so well loved yet so fundamentally different from one another, Rick’s ability to meld site, program, and construction into a form uniquely tailored to its place, purpose, and the community it serves. For these and other projects, Rick has been recognized with numerous local, regional, and national design awards and, in 2009, received the national AIA Firm Award as a partner in Olson Sundberg Kundig Allen.
Rick has positively impacted the lives of those most in need through pro-bono design work both locally and abroad. Through the Sundberg Architectural Initiative in partnership with an Orphanage in Tanzania, Rick helped realize the Mwangaza Jitegmee Foundation Orphanage, which houses orphans, most of whom lost their parents to HIV/AIDS. Through his recent collaboration with The Songea’s Kids program in Tanzania, he has designed vocational classrooms, a health care dispensary, and other community buildings for The Hope Village Project. He collaborates with mission-driven, community focused organizations locally including Habitat for Humanity and the White Center Food Bank.
Rick has been an exemplary leader within our community through service on the Seattle Design Commission, Seattle Light Rail Review, and the Mayor’s Institute on City Design, among others. He served as the Board President of AIA Seattle and, in 2013, was awarded the AIA Seattle Medal of Honor for his mentorship, design leadership, and commitment to community service.
Rick has been a mentor to generations of aspiring architects, and I count myself among them. I began working in the offices of Olson Sundberg upon my arrival in Seattle in 1986. The firm, then consisting of a dozen architects and staff, had just transitioned from Olson Walker and continued the tradition of Thursday night design crits. I fondly remember my post-crit conversations with Rick, Rik Adams, who would later become my partner in practice, and others, extending well into the evening as Rick spoke of the importance of sensitivity to place, rigorous plan organization, and attention to detail as both an aesthetic and ethical mandate…all values I carry forward to today. Rick has mentored the next generation of aspiring architects as well as a critic in my design studios and those of many other faculty in the department.
It is my personal honor and privilege to recognize Rick Sundberg with the 2023 University of Washington Architecture Distinguished Alumni Award.
Alan
A building is a harboring thing.” —Louis Kahn
Last Sunday, I visited the Frye Art Museum to reflect on memories, conversations, and design work associated with Rick Sundberg. The museum was between exhibitions, and many gallery walls were temporarily free of artwork. This provided an unusual opportunity to experience the architecture directly and to reconsider the Frye renovation and expansion, for which Rick served as design principal- through the lens of his recent death.
I encourage anyone interested in the project to visit before the next exhibitions are installed. In the absence of art, the organization, material character, light, proportion, and historical references of the architecture are especially apparent. For those who knew Rick, the Frye is perhaps the project that most clearly represents his spirit, design approach, and his influence as a mentor.
The project reflects Rick’s extensive knowledge of architectural history and his ability to translate precedent into contemporary design. It both clarifies aspects of Paul Thiry’s original 1952 building and establishes a distinct architectural language. Its use of concrete engages Thiry’s interest in the material’s plasticity, informed by European modernism. The glass-block skylight on the rotunda recalls projects by Louis Kahn. The double-dome on its interior composition draws on the work of Guarino Guarini, particularly his architecture in Turin. Reflected light from the pool enters the gallery ceilings, an effect informed by Eero Saarinen’s MIT Chapel. The bronze rotunda doors—sketched and carefully detailed by Rick—are a contemporary reinterpretation of Ghiberti’s doors for the Baptistery of San Giovanni in Florence.
The project also incorporated personal commitments. The accessible ramp was made a primary element of the entry sequence along the reflecting pool, allowing all visitors to enter together through the museum’s front door. This decision reflected Rick’s experience as the father of his son, Max.
Rick and I studied at different times with, and were influenced by, the architect and educator Astra Zarina. Midway through the Frye design process, we invited her to a Friday team critique. Reviewing elevations of the entry rotunda, she recommended increasing its height so that it would serve more effectively as a civic marker. Rick immediately understood the value of her observation, and the project improved as a result.
The building also demonstrates Rick’s interest in proportion, including the Golden Section and the architectural rhythms established by the concrete arched colonnades at the entrance. When I asked why he proposed paired columns, he replied, “Why have one column when you can have two?”
Rick was the design principal for the project, and his mentorship influenced many architects at the firm—several of whom later established their own practices or taught at the University of Washington. The project team included John Kennedy, Brett Baba, Kathryn Rogers Merlino, Joshua Brevoort, Les Eerkes, Gladys Ly Au Young, Jim Frieze, Debbie Kennedy, and me.
I worked with Rick on the Frye from our first visit to the building in the 1990s. When he left Olson Sundberg Kundig Allen, he told me that I could list my role as “Design Collaborator” on résumés and portfolios. That generosity was a form of mentorship that later informed how I led projects and credited collaborators.