MEET KADIA, ARCHITECTURE STUDENT
SAN FRANCISCO, 24

 



— WHAT'S YOUR BEAUTY?

WOOD GRAIN
MORNING LIGHT
SMELL OF CEMENT
ORANGIC PATTERNS
A CLEAN TABLE
OPENING AN OLD BOOK
CURING CONCRETE
ROSE WATER


 

“I LOVE THE MARINE BREEZE ON MY FACE AT HOME.
I LOVE FRIED ONIONS IN PALM OIL. I LOVE
THE SMELL OF FRESH CUT GRASS.”

 



— ON BUILDINGS

WHERE I'M FROM IN GUINEA, WE DON'T BUY HOMES. YOU PICK YOUR PLOT OF LAND, YOU FIND YOUR ARCHITECT OR A CONTRACTOR, AND THEY BUILD IT FOR YOU. I GREW UP IN THAT ENVIRONMENT. MY RELATIONSHIP WITH BUILDINGS WAS VERY DIFFERENT THAN WHAT MOST PEOPLE KNOW. THE PLAYGROUND FOR ME WAS A CONSTRUCTION SITE, LITERALLY.

I LIKE HOW ROUGH CONCRETE LOOKS. I LIKE THAT IT AGES LIKE PEOPLE DO. IT'S NEVER THE SAME. IT CRACKS. IT HAS FLAWS. IT'S POROUS. IT ABSORBS THING. IT ABSORBS WATER. IT ABSORBS ANYTHING THAT'S BEEN ON IT BEFORE, SO IT KIND OF HOLDS HISTORY, BUT IT STILL STANDS AT THE END OF THE DAY.

I DON'T THINK CONCRETE IS DEHUMANIZING AT ALL. I THINK IT'S ACCESSIBLE. PEOPLE DON'T THINK ABOUT ALL IT'S POSSIBILITIES, AND YOU CAN ALWAYS BREAK IT DOWN AND YOU HAVE EARTH AGAIN.


 

“I THINK PERFECTION DOESN'T EXIST.

WE TRY TO CONVINCE OURSELVES THINGS SHOULD HAVE A PERFECT CORNER OR HAVE A PERFECT CIRCUMFERENCE OR JUST BE FULLY STRAIGHT WHEN IT'S OKAY IF IT'S A LITTLE BUMPY. WE'RE NOT PERFECT EITHER.” 

 

 




— WHAT'S YOUR BEAUTY? BRUTALIST ARCHITECTURE

“NOTHING MAKES ME HAPPIER, IT'S ALMOST LIKE THE BUILDING IS FLOATING AND THE SKY IS A BACKGROUND. I TAKE WALKS SOMETIMES DOWNTOWN SAN FRANCISCO AND JUST KEEP MY HEAD UP LIKE THIS.”




WHAT'S YOUR BEAUTY? FAVORITE MEMORY

“WHEN I WAS LITTLE, I WOULD JUST SIT ON MY MOMS DRESSER AND SMELL ALL OF HER PERFUMES. AND WHEN SHE WAS AT WORK, BECAUSE IT JUST REMINDED ME OF HER. AND SOMETIMES HOW I WOULD KNOW SHE WAS BACK FROM WORK IS THAT I WOULD WALK IN THE HALLWAY AND IT JUST SMELLED REALLY GOOD.”