Mark Pimlott is an artist, architectural designer and writer. He lives and works in The Hague, Netherlands and London, United Kingdom. He studied architecture at McGill University, Montréal (1981) and the Architectural Association, London (1985); and visual arts at Goldsmiths College, University of London (1992). He has made projects for architecture, interiors and furniture since 1980, and in his own practice since 1988.
Mark Pimlott is currently assistant professor of Architecture (Interiors) at TU Delft, the Netherlands, where he was Professor in relation to practice in Architecture (Interior) from 2002 to 2005. He has been a Unit Master in the Intermediate and Diploma Schools at the Architectural Association (1986-1992; 1995-1996), and Unit Master at the Royal College of Art and Oxford Brookes University (1994-1995). He was Deputy and then Acting Course Leader of the Interdisciplinary MA in Art and Architecture at the Kent Institute of Art and Design in Canterbury (1992-1994). He has been a visiting teacher and lecturer at many institutions in Europe, and been involved in numerous international conferences and symposia. He has also served as Adjunct Professor at McGill University School of Architecture (1998; 2001).
‘The photographs I have made since childhood have been made in response to fundamental and fleeting perceptions that revealed the World to me. The camera seemed the most suitable device with which to capture them. I saw meaning embedded in spaces and objects: their forms held the key to understanding both the human impulse, the World, and one’s place in it. Part of this belief may have been connected to the mythic dimensions of my childhood surroundings (the vast spaces of the Canadian Shield) and the Utopian atmosphere that prevailed in the 1960s in my native Montréal. The co-existence of suburban banality and Utopian futurism (represented by the city’s innovative architectural developments and the parallel experimental urbanism of expo67) suggested that there was one vast environment, manifested in an array of forms. Empty parking lots were inexorably linked with airports, corporate office buildings, meandering semi-public subterranean interiors, métro cars, megastructural space frames, motorways, suburban bungalows, sylvan wildernesses, and even reconstructed historical villages. Their unity, their equivalence, their a-temporality, was a plausible, authentic and exciting reality for me. These childhood impressions have remained with me, despite knowing how things are and how they have to come to be. I continue to hope that the World is available for re-discovery, for revitalised occupation.’