After receiving his master’s degree in architecture from the University of Detroit Mercy in 2006, Michael Ford’s first job offer came from Hamilton Anderson Associates, a prestigious local Black-owned studio. “I had the blessing of Rainy Hamilton, someone from the community looking to make sure African Americans have a real opportunity to work for a company,” says Ford. “So, it is my duty to use my influence to give back to whoever comes after me.” Having founded the multidisciplinary studio BrandNu Design in 2016, Ford, now based in Madison, Wisconsin, has gone on to create Hip Hop Architecture Camp, a national program that lays the foundation for black and brown youth to pursue careers in design. In the week-long sessions, the structural thinking involved in the song’s composition is deconstructed, highlighting the many connections between rap lyrics and the built environment – all to inspire campers to develop ideas for new buildings. “It uses cultural fit as an aid,” Ford says. Senior participants go on to paid internships at companies such as NBBJ and Bora Architecture.
Ford has expanded the scope of the program by collaborating with Lupe Fiasco to provide water for the Samburu Girls Foundation in Kenya and by hosting virtual events with speakers such as radio host Angela Yee. Herman Miller became another powerful collaborator: This spring, 57 incoming students at the University of Madison were invited to reintegrate a pair of Eames molded plastic side chairs, developing one for themselves and the other to send to an organization where they like “a seat at the table,” either in the form of a job. or through public policies that better serve a diverse group of the population. When it comes to supporting the next generation, Ford doesn’t stand still. Tell us more.
Interior Design: How did the partnership with Hermann Miller evolve?
Michael Ford: It started with a
A mural I created for Madison last year during the uprisings – 526 white strokes on a black body, indicating the time in seconds, as he understood then, as Derek Chauvin had put his knee on George Floyd’s neck. A representative of Herman Miller watched my interview and contacted me about how to help. I came up with the idea of using the Eames lounge chair to talk to people about taking a stand. Written on it was the names of victims of racial violence in the United States and shipped as a seat for change makers and activists to hold talks and raise funds to build safe spaces. Charles and Ray Eames described the chair as “a refuge from the stresses of modern life.” We were asking: In 2021, what is this refuge for black people?
ID: For a “seat at the table,” students added visual treats to the Eames plastic chair. What is the significance of this design to you?
Michel Foucault: I am constantly exploring the relationships between popular culture and design. Being able to say, “This is the chair that Beyoncé was in her music video,” is an easy move to get the guys excited. I also appreciate being able to use these pieces as another medium for discussions about equity, justice and inclusion. Partnering with Herman Miller allows me to put those conversations in front of those trying to avoid them, because the brand has traction.
ID: How did students begin to reimagine chairs?
Michel Foucault: Some chose to write literal letters on them, while others chose to create more artistic and abstract pieces. We’ve had speakers like rapper Royce Da 5’9″ provide inspiration. Artist Renda Writer, who created the Black Lives Matter mural in Detroit, offered tips on how to use different markers and tools to cover the space in an impactful way.
ID: What do you hope those who receive these chairs see
In the final products?
Michel Foucault: Young people are attentive. For some, a chair may be a thank you for what they’re doing, and they’ll feel good. For others, this is a wake-up call to say, “I want to come help you fix these things
Matters.” Or even, “I may come to sit on the seat you are sitting on.”
ID: How do you see the development of this program?
Michel Foucault: We’re talking about making it annual and doing courses in other schools. One of the activists who spoke at first, the poet Mohabb Dyer, told the students, “Yes, sit down at the table. But don’t stop there. Be prepared to make your own damn table.” This is the second stage.
