A Conversation With Bruce
Interviewer Ian Chodikoff
From your former employer Barton Myers, what lessons did you learn early on about nurturing your own office in order to develop an exclusive portfolio of diverse architectural commissions?
BK It was an interesting moment because we were still employees of Barton when our firm began. The results of the Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO) competition weren’t announced until January 1987, and the decision on the AGO happened to coincide with the co-founding of our firm. We didn’t know whether we were going to win the competition or not. We had already set the course for our firm, and Barton had decided to move to Los Angeles because he had in hand the project for the Phoenix Municipal Government Center. The AGO was an odd competition because Barton wasn’t even around when we went for the interview, so Tom Payne and I went. It was as though the master wasn’t there and his two associates showed up to get the job. Somehow we were able to get on the shortlist and this gave us a lot of confidence: we could actually represent his firm and get to the shortlist against pretty stiff competition. The AGO team at the time consisted of myself, Tom Payne, John Shnier, Howard Sutcliffe, Mary Jane Finlayson and David Weir. Howard primarily worked on the Dundas Street elevation which was much different than what was actually built. It was stone; narrower, shorter, and with many articulations. Then we won the competition. Once the project was secured, Barton became the design architect and KPMB took on the role of the local production firm. He actually sent us a memo outlining the team that he wanted on the project and much to our surprise, he had named neither Howard nor me to the team. Barton reworked the stair and the tower design, and then took control of the Dundas Street elevation. The idea of the brick faade along Dundas Street is interesting, because it contains an American reference. It has the same Flemish Bond brick that’s on the William and Mary College in Virginia. So here, you have Barton–a Virginian architect–making a statement that references American architecture as he is about to leave Canada for the United States.
Did the Art Gallery of Ontario project solidify the foundations of what you intended to be as an architect?
BK Yes and no. Mainly because the reasons why I wanted to become an architect happened earlier while we were still at Barton’s office. Tom Payne and I did the very first Marc Laurent retail store in Toronto. We also did a small addition for a Japanese-Canadian doctor, the Saito House, which was effectively a 24′ x 24′ room. The Saito House embodied what we learned from Barton. We became interested in materials and in construction early on in our careers, and we became very interested in finished construction. The Marc Laurent project allowed us to consider industrial design.
Barton provided you with the insight to make appropriate responses to the urban fabric through the use of infill, density and flexible envelopes that lead to “great rooms” within buildings. Can you comment on your attitude toward the changing, unfinished city of Toronto with reference to your own approach to architecture?
BK Barton’s own lineage was as a Virginian with an exposure to the architecture being taught at the University of Pennsylvania. He introduced me to American architects and American architecture. One of the first books he showed me was a book on Paul Cret. His lesson was that Cret–who was schooled in the neoclassical–was space-positive and interested in the spaces that buildings made. He was also influenced by Louis Kahn. So Barton’s influence was a revelation because frankly, being in Toronto, I wasn’t focused on the United States. I was focused on the Europeans, the Dutch and Le Corbusier. He introduced me to a very principled and traditional kind of architecture. Then there was also the introduction to works by Robert Venturi, Romaldo Giurgola, Ray and Charles Eames, and Mies. If I hadn’t worked for Barton, I wouldn’t have had that kind of immersion. He taught us to think broadly of the city, which comes out of the University of Pennsylvania education that reinterprets tradition. Barton would do a courtyard house for himself but in a contemporary way and through the use of off-the-shelf materials. Steel was also a big lesson. One other thing that he gave us was the opportunity to learn about the huge scope; he gave us a huge scope to run the office. Tom Payne, Marianne McKenna, Shirley Blumberg, John Shnier, Don Clinton and Ruth Cawker were all associates in Barton’s office. We were very well prepared. I think that he had a really great group of people. Extraordinary. We were also able to do things that he didn’t like to do, like manage projects and write proposals.
What did you perceive as your competitive strengths when you ventured into the Toronto market as part of Kuwabara Payne McKenna Blumberg in 1987? What kinds of firms were of great interest to you and what kind of firm did you set out to become at this time?
BK First of all, it is a generational thing. I’m 57 and we are all part of the Baby Boomer generation. I could see that in the landscape of Canadian architecture, a lot of senior figures were dead or were soon to pass away–Ron Thom, Ray Affleck, the Parkins. You’d also see the current work being produced by Arthur Erickson, Ray Moriyama and Eb Zeidler. And then there was Jack [Diamond] and Barton. There were a lot of good architects, but there wasn’t a new force in the making. I thought that we had the potential to make buildings that were urban and institutional–that would be resolved and detailed at a higher level so that the thoroughness of thinking would move beyond the concept and go right through the entire building and all the way through to its finishes. That’s why we took on interiors as a serious part of architecture and as a building block for our development. When we designed through materials, I knew that the materials we’d use would inform the larger aspects of our buildings. One of the design firms that I was fascinated by were the Piccaluga brothers because I never had seen anyone who could achieve that kind of detailing. For example, the jointing in their stone was really amazing. When looking at their Karir Optical stores and La Fenice restaurant, you could tell that these guys were really motivated.
Who were the other peers and influences that helped develop your career in Toronto?
BK There was Barry Sampson who was a classmate of mine. He came from Oshawa and I came from Hamilton and we were roommates in our first year of architecture school. After we graduated, we wrote a long article called “The Form of Reform.” It was about the John Sewell/Jane Jacobs/David Crombie era and was published in City Magazine. We were working for George Baird at the time and we said, “Why don’t we write a long and critical article about the architects that we admire?” So we looked at architects that combined social vision with infill projects to learn how they operate. From the beginning, we separated the work of Diamond and Myers because their approaches were different. I worked for George Baird for three years. They were three of my very best years at this office where John van Nostrand, Barry Sampson, Donald McKay and Joost Bakker also worked. These are not just my contemporaries, but some of my very best friends. This was a period of time when you are just out of school and your mind is wide open. George’s office was fantastic; it was a great place to be. It provided us with exposure to global architecture. George ran the lecture series so he had many people come by to the office: Arthur Drexler, Arata Isozaki, the Kriers, Rem Koolhaas, Michael Wolford, Rafael Moneo, O.M. Ungers. It was just a scene; a very dense kind of education and exposure. When I left George’s office, I wondered what book he would give me, because he always gave a book to everyone that left.
I thought that I would get a book on Alvar Aalto, but he gave me a book on James Stirling instead. When I asked George who I should work for, he said, “Barton.” Soon afterward, Tom Payne took my place and started working for George. A couple of years later, I introduced Tom to Barton’s office.
Winning the Kitchener City Hall competition is often seen as the definitive moment in your firm. What went through your mind when you won the competition, and then when the project was designed and built? How has the market for competitions changed since then?
BK I wish that there were a lot more competitions. For the Kitchener competition–Detlef Mertins became an important figure, because he basically ran that competition. Our team was comprised of Howard Sutcliffe, Mark Jaffar, Andrew Dyke and Matthew Wilson. I already had a lot of background with thinking about city halls and civic spaces. We had previously come in second for Mississauga City Hall (which we had lost to Ed Jones and Michael Kirkland), Ottawa City Hall (which we lost to Moshe Safdie), Markham Civic Centre (which we lost to Arthur Erickson), and then Phoenix which we had won, but the project evaporated out there in the desert. By the time Kitchener came along, we were really prepared in our thinking. When we won the project, it was such a big deal. At one time, we had 20 people working on the project. The working drawings were made up of 1,200 sheets with nine books of details. Perhaps it was overdrawn but we studied it very carefully. A lot of important people who worked on that project are still in our office like Andrew Dyke, Mitchell Hall, and Luigi LaRocca.
Did this project set in motion the way your office expresses and details a particular architectural language, repertoire or design process?
BK As with so many of our buildings, Kitchener was never conceived as one building but as a framework of several buildings with outer walls. We were in design and production for two years, then construction for another two years so we were able to complete the project on a reasonable schedule. Since then, they’ve maintained the building really well. I have known the various mayors over the years, and this builds huge confidence in our ability to create good civic architecture and relationships with clients–an approach to building that we have continued to develop over the years.
Did Kitchener City Hall refine your approach to thinking about architecture within the context of politics and cities?
BK Many times there were votes, like the skating rink which was a million dollars. Many councillors thought that we didn’t need a skating rink downtown as there was an existing skating rink four blocks away, but the downtown businesses really wanted it. The Council vote was tight, something like 6-5. There were a lot of 6-5 votes, such as the question of whether or not to build a rotunda. We were told that they never asked for a rotunda, but I was convinced that it was really important for the building’s concept to have one. They now have five people managing all the public space on the site, including the rotunda. They have all sorts of things going on there all the time, realizing how important their building has become to the city. When you think back about the finalists in the competition–Gilles Saucier, Kohn Shnier, Michael Moxam when he was part of Dunlop Farrow, and Stephen Teeple–all of these architects were leading strong projects. If there was a definitive moment for this generation of architects, this Kitchener competition was it.
The Reisman-Jenkinson Residence that you completed in 1991 won a Governor General’s Medal and has continued to rise in value and age very well. Can you speak about your attitudes toward private houses?
BK I’ve only done two houses. The [Reisman-Jenkinson Residence] was a project where the clients were a writer and a sculptor. At that time, when Joe Allen’s restaurant was on John Street, Dolly Reisman was working as a waitress and I used to go over there with Tom and everyone to eat burgers. One day I got a call from Dolly. She wanted us to build a house for her and her husband in Richmond Hill. When they came to our office, I told them that they should speak to other architects, giving them about four names. They came back, wanting to persuade me to work on the house. So I told them that I would go by myself to the site on the weekend and then let them know by Monday if I would accept the commission. There was a little bungalow on the lot which was about 100 feet wide and 250 feet deep. After seeing the site, I knew that I wanted to design a house built around the existing maple trees, forming a courtyard. The clients lived in the original house while the new house was under construction. They wanted the house to be a social place that focused on artistic production. She had a writing studio and he had a sculpting studio. Stephen liked to have parties and cook for everyone–up to 60 people on his own.
Was this house a return to first principles?
BK Doing houses is a back-to-basics focus on a return to living. One of the things that happened during the design process is that I pulled out a book on the studios of all the great modern artists living in Paris. One of the things I realized is that they all had north-facing skylights (for obvious reasons). That’s why the roof shape was a very principal form. The other thing that I was interested in was using really ordinary materials. We used split-face concrete block. I saw a garage in Montreal’s Westmount neighbourhood made of split-face block, so I thought that maybe we could use this kind of material. During the construction of the house, I had a great time with Stephen Jenkinson because he ended up contracting a lot of the construction himself. We held an audition for different masons. One guy would put up a piece of a wall while we had chairs set up to contemplate what we were looking at. In the end, the guy who got the job had served time on a drug charge. His work was terrific. The beauty of the project is that it was very fundamental. Our attitude was that the module of the block would define the shapes of the buildings. Eventually, Stephen and Dolly put it on the market, and the house was purchased by a married physician couple with two kids. The most recent owner ran his own art school, and maintained all the gardens himself. He requested to meet with us at the house, which we gladly did. They have now sold the house to someone else, and I am sure that I will meet them too.
What about the Art Gallery of Hamilton (AGH) and your interests in the city?
BK When I was growing up in Hamilton, I intuitively thought that something was going wrong. They built this Plus 15 system and I knew that it wasn’t going to work. The art gallery was stranded because of the Plus 15. That was the context. The envelope was leaking and as an institution, the gallery was failing. So, they had a competition for recladding the building and Karen Mills ran the competition. We thought that we could make a very simple sleeve with some big openings. It had to be steel, so we looked at prefabricated insulated corrugated steel products. And we looked through a product catalogue where there was a series of colours: silver, red, green, blue, and then at the back of the catalogue there was gold. So I said, “Does anyone use that?” and the sales rep said, “No.” And I said, “I want to use gold.” I related the AGH to Hans Scharoun’s Philharmonic Hall because I was going back and forth to Germany for the Berlin Embassy project. I was interested in the high-art frames in gold and gilded frames in art. I was also looking at metal and car finishes, the Hamilton Ti-Cats and the value of metal. You needed something that was both high and low art and that would create an instantly recognizable symbol that would stand out. I wanted a building that would relate to pop culture and high art. The exercise was a joint partnership with a
lot of extraordinary people at the museum that were responsible for not only making a great gallery but for enabling the design of a public building that would create a visible cultural life for Hamilton. I don’t think that I will ever get another chance to do a gold building! I am a great believer in how one building can be so important, how one building can define a city. For me it was about turning something around and showing how we can serve that gallery by moving forward. One thing we have done a lot of at KPMB is many cultural institutions. We have a really good idea of the relationship between architecture as infrastructure and how boards, curators, and people in education, administration and marketing think and work. We have a good feeling for that. In Hamilton, we’ve created a new platform for them in terms of making them become more successful.
What about other partnerships involving clients? How do these cultural institutions work with clients, and how do you see your-self in the context of Toronto’s “cultural renaissance?”
BK We are very involved in many of those projects. The clients are amazing. They all have strong ideas and you want all the projects to be very successful. We came to those commissions in very different ways. Some were long-term master plans. Others were selection processes, like Soulpepper Theatre. The National Ballet School is interesting because Phil Goldsmith did a master plan years ago, but they wanted him to partner with someone, so he called us. We were invited in. We just had to present our credentials to the Board. On the client side, the cultural renaissance in Toronto is incredible, largely driven by the administrators and curators. Bob Sirman and Mavis Staines (National Ballet School), Peter Simon (Royal Conservatory of Music), Alexandra Montgomery (Gardiner Museum of Ceramic Art), Albert Schultz and Leslie Lester (Soulpepper Theatre). These are extraordinary people. Each one is very different. The fundamental principle is the idea that we are designing long-term cultural infrastructure as facilities. We often use the metaphor of a platform. Is a platform a horizontal surface as infrastructure? Is a platform a position or a stage? Is a platform a cultural program or agenda? Our projects are always about giving our clients the very best facilities, and a lot of them are additions or renovations in some way.
You are not looking at buildings as iconographic forms, but you are using the client’s vision to make something important. The city is the sum of its parts, but do the new cultural institutions being built in Toronto help the imageability of the city over the long term?
BK The whole building is not a singular iconic shape or form. Very few of our buildings are like that. Our buildings are often made up of a lot of parts and volumes. It is the notion of an ensemble or an assemblage. It is additive, not carved. It is volumes that are placed or composed relative to each other. Our work suggests a composite assemblage of urbanism. For example, in the case of the National Ballet School–the presence of the point towers by Peter Clewes from architects-Alliance that are part of the overall development are fundamental to the success of our built component to the project. Our composition is both figure and ground relative to the heritage buildings as well as to the base of the towers. There is also a whole scaling thing in relation to the other buildings along Jarvis Street. It is interesting to see how the whole project which included new dance studios, heritage buildings and two point towers came together. I consider the project to be a remarkable mix of residential and institutional architecture that speaks to what the city is as we live it today.
Do you situate yourself within the “Toronto Style?” For example, architects in Halifax or other parts of the country can recognize the work being produced in Toronto simply by looking at details like a cornice or a recessed window. Are you conscious of this?
BK I think that you are always evolving. Toronto has a high density of solid and serious practitioners. It has a concentration of designers that have made the last 10 years really interesting and I really appreciate work that is done by my contemporaries. One of the great pleasures is to walk around and enjoy contemporary architecture in your own city. It’s not all about KPMB, that’s for sure. This is where I really like Larry Richards as a great curator of architecture. He has made a huge contribution to this city. Very quietly, he has ushered in great work and we’ve got results. The biggest thing is to create the density of the culture and an architecture scene that allows a number of really strong architects to have their careers evolve. We don’t talk enough about this shared language and the validity of it. I think that if someone in Halifax can see it quite clearly, it’s worth examining. I thought that the Toronto Style was a modality of practice–a diversity and heterogeneity that I think intrinsically is what the city is all about. I have been rereading No Mean City and I realize that besides the founding Aboriginal-British-French origins, there was a very strong American influence, especially during the postwar period. Toronto has gone through waves of eclectic development which has accelerated. On one hand, people say that there is an identifiable style, mainly on the strength of a lot of people who have come out of three firms: Jack Diamond, Barton Myers and George Baird. This might be what we are talking about. The number and density of good works being produced in Toronto has been increasing. In the ’70s, it is not as though there were so many good works. It was all about competent work, but it is really pretty lively right now. Architecture is in the air.
Architects are always slow to incorporate cultural shifts and changes. Do you think that architecture and the allied professions have picked up on the big changes happening in our cities?
BK Toronto is lagging behind. All the elements for new modes of practice are there. Graphics and film are really strong. Landscape is spotty. The key is creating opportunities for new voices and projects for the people that are bringing new ideas to the city. My metaphor for the city is based on the arterial grid and the absorption of cultures, as long as it remains open. One of the big issues in Toronto’s future lies on the waterfront. I’ve said this before but I think that for sites like the West Donlands and the East Bayfront–they should be promoting competitions for younger architects and landscape architects on selected sites. It can’t just be the establishment, especially in very large precincts. There is scope and room for other innovation that should recognized. Never in the history of Toronto have so many large-scale projects been undertaken at one time. I can’t remember throughout my entire career such large-scale projects.
Are there new modes of practice emerging in Toronto that you are taking inspiration from?
BK There are new practices like PLANT and 3rd Uncle, and I watch what’s going on in the architecture school at the University of Toronto, although frankly, new modes of making form haven’t had the opportunity to see the light of day. Toronto is very conservative, even in its celebration of a true renaissance.
Does KPMB have an identifiable brand or approach to architecture that your clients can recognize?
BK Keeping the office open-ended to new things and open-ended to change is important to us. Once you’ve done a number of buildings, you don’t want to keep making the same building again and again. Your values accumulate, or morph. Certain numbers of buildings can be thematically linked. I feel that we have gone through two movements. Kitchener City Hall was one movement, but the National Ballet School is of another generation that involves a much more integrated design process.
You are now working on two very i
mportant projects: the Manitoba Hydro Building and a new home for the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF). Manitoba Hydro is a research building, while TIFF is a cultural building. When examining these projects, do you envision emerging directions and areas of specialization for your firm?
BK These projects are contemporary and opposite. The TIFF project is about cultural sustainability whereas Manitoba Hydro is driven by science and engineering, which we’ve never done before to such a high degree of performance. It is essentially a European building adapted to a North American setting. The fact is that we’ve worked on the Canadian Embassy in Berlin where sustainability is never discussed but considered part of the law. Nobody says, “Let’s make a sustainable building in Berlin.” It is just a given. But in Winnipeg, it is about a proposition of a reduction in energy that pulls together a lot of ideas that we’ve developed, like the notion of the vertical campus and the public realm. It is far more about advancing the levels of technology and science.
Do you present a culture of leadership in your office? How do you initiate innovation in your office? How do you promote this in your staff?
BK You try to put the right people on the right projects. For example, with Hydro, the cost of the envelope is tens of millions of dollars. We experienced a learning curve at Concordia University which is all about the curtain wall. At Concordia, I kept telling my team that we needed to become experts in curtain walls. We went on a steep learning curve to work with the assembly, cost and other issues. Our people are so good, so fluid. Take John Peterson for example. He is heavily involved in the development of curtain walls and knows about thermal breaks, the coupling of mouldings, etc. So how do you inspire your staff? You give them lots of scope. You provide them with clear direction. You have lots of discussions about where you think the project should be going and you allow your staff to do the research and development. And then you review their work, all the time. I ask people’s opinions about a lot of things. You think that you are focused and you think that you have an idea and you are confident that you do it rigourously and that if you give yourself the proper amount of time, then you might actually get somewhere. And then you see the results and you learn from those results and take it to the next level. You are constantly learning from your old mistakes, and that’s how you get better, and that’s how you advance your own design office. At the design level, we’ve had so many people who have made major contributions. They’ve been here for so long and I value their opinions so much. We think in shorthand because we’ve been around each other for so long, but I am always looking for something new. If I see something that isn’t well thought through or if it’s something that we’ve already done, then I think it’s a dead end. I have a really bad reaction to that because I think that it is being creatively lazy. I love it when I see someone propose something that nobody else has thought of and they bring something to the mix that really moves the project forward. That is an extraordinary collaborative relationship. We’ve had lots of situations where some people are thinking in more formal terms while others are more technically inclined. Then there are certain people who just have good eyes.
How do you ensure that the work you do will benefit not only your client, but your own firm?
BK We’ve built our practice very slowly over a long period of time. In the beginning, we had a series of very precise goals. In the future, when people mention our name we want them to think that it will be of high quality, that the projects will be exceptionally well resolved. Our identity will be bound into the quality of the work itself. You create your own identity, brand and reputation through the body of your work, and you are what you make. You cannot escape the legibility of architecture. So, the firms that understand this principle have always moved forward. The firms that are compromising over the short term because they think they’re going to hit a home run later on rarely work. You have to commit to standards very early and say “that is never going to be good enough for me,” when being approached by a prospective client that may allow for a good partnership with your firm.
Did you imagine your firm to be where it is today? What was your vision then, and now?
BK In some moments, the firm exceeds our expectations and in other moments it is very apparent that we can do so much more. That is what you want to do as an architect, to have broader scope and impact both internationally and locally. It is not lost on us that the valuation of work internationally often means that you are more valued at home. You have to leave in order to come back. We’ve decided to commit to Toronto and operate out of Toronto. We don’t have offices all over the world. We are big, but not that corporate. We are pretty informal but we stay focused on the work–this has served us well. We’ve taken our practice and have put it in the competitive arena. We’ve done good work in the United States. It all seems logical when rolling out a practice, but you never know where it will all lead. You just never know.
Each of the partners at KPMB maintains and nurtures a focus in different areas, but you’ve stayed together for 20 years. How have you managed to do this?
BK We like each other, we are all peers and friends, and we’ve known each other for so long. I think that we share a lot of similar values and interests. We all want to do the best work that we can do. We are all very ambitious and we all have a huge amount of energy. It’s pretty extraordinary. You think of music groups and what keeps them together and what drives them apart. Usually it is some combination of greed and ego. Maybe it’s ideological differences, but we don’t have those ideological differences. As long as the work is good and evolving, then that’s a practice I want to be part of. We have very good people in our office who are pushing a range of ideas. The future is about creating opportunities. One of the things that we said when we started the practice is that we wanted to support artists and give back to the community. We wanted to support young architects and education. I think that is the foundation of growing the culture in our firm. You have to think like that and if you don’t, you have to step away. You have to believe in the future and you have to believe in your influence to make things better for other generations to follow. That’s one reason why I like going into the schools. Sometimes the school influences the practice, and sometimes the practice influences the school. A lot of architects shut down after they leave architecture school. The last lecture they attended was when they left school.
Schools as incubators for ideas. What do you think about that?
BK On one hand, this is how the profession thinks about continuing education, and on the other hand, the schools aren’t recognizing the needs of the profession. I keep urging the institutions to develop a revenue stream based on their knowledge base and on their capacity as teachers to say something valuable about architecture, landscape and cities. I would be happy to pay for sitting in on some higher levels of discussion about urbanism and architecture. Right now, we are paying hundreds of dollars to attend continuing education lectures about mould, yet there is not one offering about how contemporary landscape or urbanism affects our profession. The Canadian Urban Institute is successfully bringing together lawyers, developers and architects through a variety of lectures and panels. We should be undertaking similar initiatives.
How has the role of the mentor played out in your career? What about other inspirational influences?
BK I only worked for two architects: Barton Myers and George Baird. I got a lot out of both of them. I realize that architecture is an ongoing cumulative experience and how important the first job out of school is. When I graduated, I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to be in the profession. I didn’t have a high regard for a lot of things, either the buildings or the culture of architecture at the time–it was about bigger is better. The attitude was very corporate.
George Baird made the transition out of school a fantastic experience. If you’ve never seen or experienced great buildings then it is hard to imagine actually building great architecture. There are so many great buildings that have been done recently, and Toronto has the potential to be linked to what’s happening elsewhere. I think the issues we’re talking about is how to create a platform for architecture and landscape. I think that what Rene Daoust has been doing for the International Quarter in Montreal is fantastic. Toronto doesn’t have anything even remotely like what’s happening in Montreal. There are a lot of fantastic projects by some fantastic architects across Canada that are situated within a framework that can address the world.
Seeing that personal sacrifices are always present in any successful career, what advice can you offer when managing your personal life?
BK The biggest challenge for me today is the life-changing moment of getting married and then having two kids. The difference is time management and that I think more about the future than I ever did in the past. I think about the schools that my children will attend and the world they inhabit. Everything is always easy in hindsight. I’ve worked a lot but one of my thoughts on this is that no one in the world is great with anything unless there are huge amounts of dedication and sacrifice. There are very few practices where success comes easily and without a lot of effort. In fact, it’s a struggle and it requires an enormous amount of effort. You can lose your focus very easily. You can become satisfied; take your eye off the ball, and it’s gone. I’ve seen it happen before. If you’ve followed lots of careers, many just peter out. How do you avoid that? Or maybe that’s what you want, to just get the golden handshake and move on.