Creativity of Constraints: An Interview with Eric Randolph

Photo Credit: Amy Tierney / Thrive Images

‍

My father’s career in construction management inspired my love for buildings at an early age. I enjoyed matching his pace as we explored new cities, pointing out our favorite structures and discussing their programs. I loved looking over his shoulder as he made notes on building plans and inquiring about certain projects. Though I am embarrassed to admit it, I also loved telling my friends about his recent projects—especially his contributions to sports stadiums. I would mention (somewhat braggingly for a twelve-year-old) that my dad had worked on the Banc of California Stadium (now BMO Stadium) anytime one of my friends was heading to an LAFC game.

Without fail, all of my friends expressed admiration for that project. Located less than ten minutes from Downtown Los Angeles, it boasts stunning views of the skyline. Even so, I find its most compelling quality to be the intimate game day experience that it creates. All 22,000 seats are located within 135 feet of the field. This thoughtful design element allows fans to cheer on their team from up close. Furthermore, as an open-air stadium, it successfully connects supporters not only to the team itself but to the City of Los Angeles that surrounds them. Its elegance and intentionality stun me. For these reasons, I was delighted when my dad offered to connect me with architect Eric Randolph, the design manager behind this masterpiece.

Randolph is a true professional in the field. He holds a Bachelor of Science in Architecture from the University of Texas at Arlington and a Master of Architecture from the Harvard University Graduate School of Design. He now works as a Senior Architect at the Los Angeles branch of Populous. His experiences designing professional league sports stadiums for organizations like the MLS, MLB, NFL, FIFA World Cup, and Olympic Committee offer insight into a unique field of architecture guided by constraints. The beauty of sports stadiums exists in their ability to reflect client preferences, embody the culture of a city, and create the best game day experience possible. Throughout my conversation with Randolph, I was struck by his appreciation for the challenges he encounters in his work. For Randolph, constraints never detract from the design process. Instead, they enrich it by pushing architects to think harder and work smarter in order to create meaningful structures.

T: What motivated you to pursue a career in architecture?

E: I bore easily. After my first year in college, I realized that I would not make it through four years of listening to lectures, taking tests, and writing papers. I had entertained myself throughout high school by taking the requisite courses and filling up the rest of my schedule with drama and stagecraft courses. I knew that I needed something actively creative to keep me engaged. My father was an engineer and was always tinkering around in the house or garage. My mother was a very good cook and invested a lot of love in everything she did bringing up four boys. In that environment, the desire to make things came pretty easily. One of my older brothers is a naturally gifted artist. I would spend hours watching him draw. I figured architecture as a “major” seemed like a good choice for something I would be able to endure for 4 years. I didn’t really develop a love for, or even an understanding of, the art of architecture until much later. My facility for making “architectural things,” such as drawings and models, came along amid many late nights in graduate school.  

T: A great deal of your career has been dedicated to designing sports stadiums. How did you begin working in that specific field?

‍E: I was working as an architect for ten years before I had the opportunity to work on a sports project. I had just returned from working with the Office for Metropolitan Architecture in Rotterdam on a project for Universal that had just been shelved indefinitely. I needed a new challenge. NBBJ’s Los Angeles office was remarkably busy with multiple sports projects in the late ‘90s and they had a spot for me. Pretty quickly, I got involved in the first major renovation of Dodger Stadium. Considering my inexperience with the building type, they gave me a lot of responsibility to develop designs for the stadium club and the new dugout club. I saw them through to completion on-site one five-month off-season. The relative speed and immediacy of the project and the gratification of bringing it all together just in time for Opening Day was a rush I had not experienced in the profession before. I was hooked.

T: Could you give me a brief outline of your design process?

E: Architecture is an inherently collaborative pursuit that involves an enormous number of people. I have been privileged to work with many talented architects and engineers throughout my career. In projects that I have led, the first step is to assemble a team with a mix of skills and experiences—including people who are just beginning their careers. It doesn’t really work when everyone in a team has a uniform level of experience, even if they are all very good at what they do. You need a diversity of experiences and viewpoints to maximize productive interaction. It gets everyone on the edge of their comfort level and allows them to grow and learn as they go. Next, I try to define, as completely and clearly as possible, all of the constraints on the project—the owner’s requirements, the site limits, the budget, the performance expectations, the sustainability goals, the code requirements, the structural requirements, etc. I have never found a “blue-sky,” or no constraints, design process to be very fruitful. I have also seen a number of projects come completely undone when a single base assumption turned out to be false. I say “try to define” because we operate in a dynamic environment and the constraints evolve over time. I am involved in a project right now that has had a dramatic budget “surprise,” but I think the project will be improved by the discipline that comes from the reduction. They say that adversity reveals character, and I think that holds true for the design process. A design team only truly innovates when they are pressed to do more with less and focus on what is essential. When constraints have been defined and ideas start to emerge, I prefer to take a step back and see what the team has to bring to the project. I will entertain any idea from any team member if they are passionate and have some logic behind it. I have been accused of designing by the Socratic method—questioning the ideas and design solutions as they are proposed. I invite all members to participate and weigh-in with their perspective. More often than not, the strongest ideas rise to the top and everyone on the team feels ownership in the project and understands how the decisions were made.  

The process I employ with teams that has been most successful focuses more on design principles, ideas, and a sequence of experiences in the building than on a single image. Establishing the values of the project that a client and design team have all reached by consensus provides a yardstick for decision-making throughout the phases of the project. It becomes particularly important when something unexpected or disruptive occurs.  

T: You served as design manager for BMO Field in Toronto, Banc of California Stadium in Los Angeles, and Q2 Stadium in Austin. Which of these projects has been your favorite and why?

They all had their unique challenges and were transformational. It’s difficult to pick a favorite because, in a certain sense, I see them as a progressive “suite” of projects in a continuum of ideas explored and implemented. They were all designed and built in a nearly continuous stream from 2014 to 2021.  

BMO Field for Toronto FC was the expansion and upgrade of an existing stadium built in phases during two successive off-seasons. The first phase included all of the new seating and revenue-generating upgrades. The second phase was primarily devoted to installing the enormous canopy over the existing and new grandstands. The problem was primarily technical— how to have the most impact on the game day experience and revenue within a relatively tight budget. I knew, from my experience on Dodger Stadium, that the renovation of existing spaces can be more costly and complicated than building new. The strategy was to build an entirely new and separate grandstand behind the existing east grandstand, make minimal modifications to the south grandstand to create a continuous concourse from east to west, and improve the existing west side areas by demolishing and expanding interior space and cosmetically enhancing the environment with finishes and team branding. The gravity load of the canopy structure rests on four “super columns” at the corners, which were surgically inserted in the first building phase. The arched trusses and canopy sections were fabricated while the team was playing the 2015 season and then craned into place during the winter off-season. The slender perimeter columns at the back side of the canopy are primarily needed to stabilize the canopy and to keep it from flying away.  

The Banc of California Stadium (now BMO Stadium) for the Los Angeles Football Club was really the project that broke the mold of previous MLS [Major League Soccer] stadia. The design was developed from the ground up as an integrated part of LAFC’s brand. It was, of course, a dream to have the project here in Los Angeles. Everything about the team’s brand and the design of the stadium was intended to be uniquely suited to Los Angeles’ character as a diverse global city. Being successful as a “start-up” in a market that already had ten professional sports teams at the time was a significant challenge. Creating the best match day experience was really the primary goal. The location on the former site of the historic Los Angeles Sports Arena near the Coliseum was perfect for Metro access, parking, proximity to downtown, and the ability to appeal to a great demographic cross-section of the city. To enhance that sense of the building and the team being at the heart of the city, it was important to program the building with a diversity of seating options that matched every demographic from the star-studded owner group to the Westside soccer families to the Eastside hardcore supporters known collectively as the 3252. With a relatively modest seating capacity of 22,000, we had the opportunity to create a very intimate game experience and make sure that all of the seating areas had great sightlines. We developed as many general admission (GA) and premium seating products as we could imagine, and the client directed us to include them all. Even as the project was being built, we converted some GA areas into specific club areas that appealed to a specific demographic and sponsor opportunity. The San Manuel City View Terrace is an example. Situated in the southwest corner just below the press box, the location is not normally considered optimal. However, from that corner there is a spectacular keyhole view of the downtown skyline just above the “Los Angeles” sign at the northeast entry gate. We added individual lounge seating and a dedicated bar that serves relatively few seats in order to enhance the exclusive club feeling. It’s also well away from the supporters’ section for those who are sensitive to smoke bombs or who want to have a conversation during the match. Another aspect of the project that was really rewarding was being hired to simultaneously do the team’s training facility on a completely different site. At first, they were looking for another architect so that we wouldn’t be distracted from the stadium project. However, I assembled a completely different team and convinced them that only we knew how to give them a home for the team that was up to the standard we had set as a home for their fans. Because of that relationship (even though I am with another company now), I’m just completing a tiny expansion project to the training facility and looking forward to (another) championship season.    

Q2 Stadium stands out as unique because it had such a wide variety of challenges. Unlike Toronto FC, a big upgrade to an existing facility for an established, well-loved team, or Banc of California Stadium, a ground-up stadium in a market ripe for something like LAFC, Q2 was a stadium for a team that didn’t yet exist in a market that had never had and didn’t think they needed a professional sports team. Oh, and the weather is really too hot and humid in the summer for playing soccer. It began pretty bizarrely because the interview for the job was conducted anonymously. The location and client for the project were both confidential, so the interview was done via Webez or GoTo Meeting since this was in 2017, before COVID and Zoom. There was a third-party project manager asking the questions while the client listened in silence. We made the first cut, provided a proposal for concept design, and were visited by the client a few weeks later. In preparation, we were told where the project was. However, we didn’t learn who the client was until they arrived for a three-hour visioning workshop. It was not Matthew McConaughey, if that’s what you’re thinking. He didn’t become part of the ownership group until much later. The client turned out to be the owners of the Columbus Crew. They said they were exploring the idea of moving the team from Ohio to Austin, Texas. That was the big secret, and it was blockbuster. Communities invest a lot of energy, resources, and emotion into their sports teams. This is especially true for the Columbus Crew since it is one of the original founding teams of Major League Soccer. At the end of the session, they said something to the effect of ‘If you can keep a secret, you’re hired.’ Even though the firm I worked for has had an Austin office for many years, the client didn’t want us to include anyone from there on the team for fear of a confidentiality leak. This was a project that really started from scratch. We began with site evaluations of seven different sites. At some point it was revealed that the City of Austin was negotiating with a group regarding a possible MLS expansion team being established in the city. The site that the design team and owner liked the best was an underutilized softball complex close to downtown that would need no additional parking and would have an amazing view out of the stadium with the quickly rising Austin skyline as its backdrop. We did a fairly complete concept design for the site that incorporated a lot of the design principles that were developed for Los Angeles but modified for the specific character of Austin. It still had a lot of premium seating products but with a more casual and down-home character. We knew that the neighborhood location would be sensitive, so the design was very low-key and might have easily been mistaken for a minor league ballpark. The scale of the 21,000-seat stadium was so small that we created a drawing showing the building inside the University of Texas’ Darrell K. Royal Memorial Stadium, which seats over 100,000. That drawing and the beautiful renderings showing the project nestled among the trees alongside Lady Bird Lake never saw the light of day. A handful of influential people in the nearby neighborhood raised objections and the mayor informed the project team that the site was no longer available for the project that the owner had fallen in love with. The site that we eventually utilized for the project was a brownfield site, set back from the intersection of Burnet Road and Braker Lane, very, very far from downtown. It had been a former dump that the city had remediated environmentally, and it was last on the list. The challenge was creating a completely different story for the project and convincing the owner and ourselves that it could still be a great success. A quick analysis of the demographics near the new site revealed that it was the best among all the sites we considered for attracting a diverse fan base to the stadium. Another advantage was that the site was large enough to accommodate premium parking on site as well as an open-air terraced lawn and a stage for small concert events. Because the site was set back from any sensitive neighbors, we were able to create an iconic form for the building in the form of a large shade canopy curled up on the sides. It looked a bit like a cowboy hat and allowed the breeze to flow through. Working closely with the city’s Office of Sustainability and Water Resources Department, we were able to invert the narrative from ‘outsiders building a stadium on precious park land’ to ‘efforts to engage the community by improving a brownfield site to a soccer park with a LEED® Gold stadium.’

T: I’m really interested in this idea that the Q2 Stadium adapted elements of the BMO Stadium to fit the culture of Austin. Can you elaborate on that?

E: The basic program of the two stadiums are very similar. They both have about 21,000 to 22,000 seats focused on soccer, as the prime event, with the ability to host concerts. Austin considers itself the live music capital of the world, so that was important to have. With the different seating areas, you can buy a $25 ticket for a game, or $50 or $2500. There are different levels of service associated with each seat. Each one of those kinds of seating products appeals to a different demographic. In Los Angeles, it was important to appeal to the premium VIP. The owner’s box seats maybe 100 people and it’s the highest level of premium product in the building. The Austin project also has premium product, but it’s less glamorous. They still have celebrities, like Matthew McConaughey, as part of the ownership group. However, the owner’s suite is much smaller and more private. All of the premium products there are a little more home-spun and casual. In the Austin project, it was more about creating neighborhoods within a stadium. There’s four sides to the building and each side has a distinct character. Even the branding of the concession stands around the perimeter of the concourse are different. They kind of reflect the character of neighborhoods within Austin. In the Los Angeles building, it’s a lot more generic. The concession stands have a very consistent look to them and it’s more about the team brand, which is black and gold. The 3252, the supporters’ group in Los Angeles, are very famous for being the loudest supporters’ group of any soccer team in the US. It was very important to design their space in a way that belongs to them. They have their own bar at the top. They have a very steep standing room section at the north end of the building and they cheer continuously throughout the game. It’s really important to give each of those specific seating areas what they need to have a great time.

T: In my 19th Century Architecture class, we learned that “form follows function,” or that all aspects of buildings should be designed with their function in mind. How does the function of sports stadiums influence your designs?

‍E: That quote is paraphrased from Louis Sullivan. It’s a famously loaded and often misinterpreted quote. Or perhaps, maybe it’s so famous because everyone feels entitled to their own interpretation. When it comes to the design of stadiums and arenas, the “function” is a massive driver of design decisions. Still, there is a diversity of solutions and no two stadiums are alike—except for the buildings that are shameless copies of other buildings. I think that’s part of the reason I love sports stadiums. They’re a vehicle for creating architecture because there are so many constraints woven into the make-up of a stadium. There’s this opportunity for a richer solution than is possible in the design of a hotel or office building.

For example, the field of play—the soccer pitch or the basketball floor—has a specific geometry that determines, to a large degree, the geometry of the spectator seating. The way the spectator seating is efficiently supported determines the structure of the building and begins to define the mass and volume. Tweaking the geometry by fractions of an inch per seating row can have a big impact on the sightlines of the spectator, the experience of the game, and the details of a structure. There’s also the idea of cost. Sports facilities are big buildings that cost an enormous amount of money. More than fifty percent of the cost of building a stadium is in the structure—the steel and concrete required to simply hold it up. As such, there are not a lot of resources in the budget left over for stone cladding, fussy details, or extravagant interior materials. In large part, the structure is the architecture. When an architect is partnered with a talented engineer, I think that stadiums begin to approach the essence of what Louis Sullivan meant to express.

T: What advice do you have for undergraduate students who want to pursue careers in architecture? What skills and experiences do you think are valuable at the undergraduate level?

E: Get a solid liberal arts education first. Learn to read, write, and think critically before you learn to draw. I wish I had had the discipline to sit still and get a proper education before I started making things. Then, see some architecture in real life. Live abroad for a year or more if you can swing it. If you have grown up in the United States, you must travel to see architecture in cities that have been thoughtfully shaped over time. In the United States, architecture is isolated to individual buildings. There are only a handful of truly great buildings here. Even then, they tend to be singular objects. Great public spaces and gardens in the US are exceedingly rare. It is really impossible to understand how impoverished the physical environment and public realm around you is until you have experienced what is basically the norm in cities across Spain, France, and Italy. I’m not just talking about the famous destinations, but also the medium-sized cities and villages that you have never heard of. Not everyone can afford to do that, of course. I couldn’t when I was an undergrad. Mexico is the next best destination and it is a lot more accessible for people in the US. Mexico City, Oaxaca, and Guanajuato all have a level of urbanism that would be enough to shake up one’s ideas. The destination is maybe less important than simply getting out of one’s comfort zone and observing the environment critically. If you come back to the US extremely depressed, you might have what it takes to be an architect.  

T: I want to circle back to this idea of the United States being so architecturally different from cities in Europe and Mexico. Could you expand on that? Why do you think those severe differences exist?

E: I think that the distinction between Europe and the United States comes from the fact that the US is a very new country. Most of its physical environment was built in the 20th century—pretty much all after World War II. If you weigh our entire physical environment on a scale, the heaviest piece would be the freeways. The automobile really defines our world. It’s so pervasive that we almost don’t even notice it until we go somewhere where that’s not the case. In America, architecture is more of a commodity that people buy if they can afford it. In Europe, the built environment has been constructed over centuries. People grow up in architecture. They live in architecture. They may not know who the architect was or what century a building was built in, but architecture becomes a part of their DNA. It’s an environment that they’re in rather than a product that they’re buying off a shelf. I think that makes for a very different kind of experience.

In terms of quantity, there’s a lot more building going on in the US at any given time than in Europe.

Also, in the US, the developers and builders are required to have an architect by law. The trend in project delivery has been moving more and more towards the builders leading the project. I’m increasingly involved in design-build projects in which the contractor has an agreement with the client and the architects and engineers work for the contractor. Traditionally, the owner hires the architect to design the building. The architect is supposed to hold the contractor responsible for delivering the project based on the design intent. That relationship is starting to move in the other direction. I sometimes think that, if states didn’t require an architect’s stamp on buildings, builders and developers would find a way to do construction without architects at all. That has created a kind of split amongst architects. There are the rarified architects like Frank Gehry who are almost a name commodity. Then, you get another layer of really good architecture firms who are more corporate. They focus on good design, meaning aesthetics and style. Though good design is important, it’s not enough to qualify a building as Architecture, with a capital “A.” A building with Architecture creates an experience that is more visceral and intellectual. The body is swallowed up by the space and the mind is consumed by the structure. The experience of Architecture is about more than just the visual pleasure of good design.

‍