My parents are both civil engineers by education, so from childhood I knew quite a bit about how construction works from the inside. My dad often took my brother and me to construction sites, and my mom, in my early years, worked as a design engineer. That’s when it stuck with me that there are architects, and there are designers. I can’t say for sure how exactly this was explained to me back then, but what settled in my mind was roughly this: architects are artists — they’re about making things beautiful — and designers are the ones who figure out how to make that “beautiful” actually happen with the resources available. Nikolai Lyutomsky’s book “I Was Lucky” is precisely a look at this industry through the eyes of an architect who was fortunate enough to work on many interesting projects. And I really wanted to hear from the other side of the fence, so to speak.
Nikolai Lyutomsky began his career as a state-employed architect in the USSR, and later founded his own architectural bureau, “Elis,” where at first he worked independently, and in recent years with strong support from his wife and son, developing landmark projects of very different kinds — from residential complexes to schools and theaters.
We rarely read books by people we don’t know. And I didn’t come across the book “I Was Lucky” by chance — I learned about it from the author’s page literally on the day it was released, because I was lucky (there’s a little pun on the title) to get to know Nikolai Vadimovich personally (even if not in person, but through correspondence). And I want to tell that story in this review, because it seems very important to me for understanding the author’s personality.
This story is a direct confirmation that the “six degrees of separation” idea really works. In 2020, I decided to edit and publish a book of my short stories, “Graphomaniacs Don’t Cry,” (available only in Russian) and even though I wasn’t claiming any royalties, the operator of the publishing platform demanded proof of rights for one particular story. The reason was that it was listed as co-authored with Kir Bulychev. Yes — the very same famous sci-fi writer.
How it happened that I had a “co-authored story” is something I described in the book itself. Igor Vsevolodovich Mozheiko (Kir Bulychev is a pen name) didn’t object during his lifetime to the story being published in that form; however, he passed away in 2003, and so I had no idea how to provide proof seventeen years after his death. So I tried reaching out through my circle of friends to somehow get in touch with the author’s heirs. Almost immediately, I was advised to contact Nikolai Vadimovich Lyutomsky.
The thing is, Nikolai Vadimovich is Igor Mozheiko’s son-in-law — he is married to his daughter, Alisa (remember the name of his architectural bureau?). You could say he’s married to a real “guest from the future,” not some cheap knockoff. I wrote to him, honestly not expecting much success. But I got a reply fairly quickly. Igor Mozheiko’s wife — Nikolai Lyutomsky’s mother-in-law — not only signed an official permission for me to publish the story, but I also received many warm words about my short stories overall.
It touched me deeply that a request from a complete stranger wasn’t just not ignored, but was met with such care. I value that kind of quality in people. And that same quality is noticeable in Nikolai Lyutomsky’s work as an architect as well, if you judge by the projects featured in the book.
According to the blurb, the book is both a biography and the author’s reflections on architecture as a whole. And I enjoy reading biographies — especially when I’m drawn to the author as a person (which is exactly the case here). However, the book is more of a survey of the projects Nikolai Lyutomsky has worked on, occasionally interwoven with memories of how he entered the profession and of his personal life, including the moment when an unexpected illness nearly put an end to both his career and his life.
And although the illness altered his usual way of living, it didn’t prevent Nikolai Vadimovich from continuing to create. On the contrary, he began to take his experience into account more and more in the way he develops his projects.
When speaking about each project, he lists the authors, explains how the project ended up on his desk, what ideas were embedded in it, what he wanted to take into account, and what difficulties had to be overcome. And within these commentaries you see not just a dry account, but his own philosophy of architecture. Describing how a school project was developed, Nikolai Lyutomsky talks, among other things, about zoning — about separating high school students from younger pupils — but most importantly, about how to design a building in such a way that people would want to stay there as long as possible, so that the people inside would be happy.
At the same time, it’s clear that in their work they always relied on existing regulations, yet still tried to make their projects as humane and warm as possible. It’s not a case of “I’m an artist, this is how I see it — and you figure out how to make it work.” Yes, it didn’t always succeed. Sometimes a sudden crisis would kill a project; sometimes clients would decide to simplify things and make them cheaper while earning more. But the architect’s overall approach here is beyond praise. I hope that, as both a teacher and a mentor to younger specialists, Nikolai Vadimovich has been able to pass on this mindset. Because looking at his projects, I see creations where you would want to study, to live, simply to be. After all, an architect doesn’t just make something beautiful — at the design stage he is already thinking about how people will actually use what he creates.
Perhaps I found it especially interesting to look at the projects because ever since childhood I was fascinated by drawing plans for my own house (what else would the son of two construction engineers be doing?), even though back then it was practically an impossible dream. For that same reason, it was fairly easy for me to “read” the architectural drawings in the book — I learned how to do that at a very young age.
But other readers may not have that kind of background, and for them I would suggest adding more illustrations to the book. There are actually quite a lot of illustrations already, but some of them are sketches (especially if the project was never ultimately realized), and others include a general plan or blueprint with almost nothing about the interior. I would have liked to see more — and some of the drawings in a larger format. Still, I didn’t expect that I would enjoy reading a book simply about architectural projects as much as I did.
So, if you’re interested in how an architect looks at a building being designed, why he makes certain decisions, and how cities might evolve in a more humane way — this book is for you. It’s short, and the author presents the material carefully and at a measured pace. (There are a few minor editing slips, but I think those will be corrected soon — the book was released in electronic format, so it’s easy to update.)
My rating: 4/5
