I often refer to what I liked as a child. The configuration of the back door of the house I grew up in—you will find in the front door of my mother’s house, and now that door is all over the world. And it is in the entrance of the Sainsbury Wing of the National Gallery. The vivid multicolored terracotta on the exterior of the Philadelphia Museum of the Modern Art which I loved as a child has influenced our museum in Seattle. And so I find I have respected my early intuitions—acknowledged what I liked, and I think artists might go wrong when they fail to monitor their intuitive likes and dislikes and when they think in terms of what they should like, or they adapt an ideology they think they should adapt.
From the beginning, we haven’t ever thought in terms of “we’re going to be leaders, we’re going to be great, we’re going to be original.” As an architect you are a craftsman, and you just try to do your best every day, and if it turns out you become a leader, if you become original and revolutionary or whatever, it is incidental.
by Robert Venturi