DUBAI: During the 1960s and 1970s, the late American architectural illustrator Carlos Diniz depicted on paper a rapidly modernizing country that he never actually set foot in: Saudi Arabia.
Around 40 of Diniz’s little-known hand drawings of the Kingdom form part of an extensive archive of thousands of images that date from the Sixties to the Nineties, which have recently been rediscovered by the managers of his estate: his stepson and daughter-in-law, Ian and Carol Espinoza.
Carlos Diniz at work in his studio. (Supplied)
In an effort to spread awareness of Diniz’s work, several of his drawings have been donated to public organizations, including the Smithsonian Institution. “We really wanted his work to be out more broadly. We wanted to find a way to establish him the way he should have been,” Carol Espinoza told Arab News.
The Kingdom’s oil boom attracted a number of American architectural firms to pitch ideas for projects there. That’s where Diniz came in, visualizing structures on commission through his remarkably detailed drawings.
“He was working on these projects right when the oil industry really started to come up, and when wealth started coming into the country,” Espinoza explained. “Wherever you have a culture that’s suddenly coming up, architects are very interested in getting in there and putting up their own building, making it a statement of the time.”
Proposal for the King Abdulaziz University Laboratory, commissioned by SOM Chicago - Bruce Gordon in 1979. (Supplied)
While some of the projects proposed in Diniz’s drawings never actually came to fruition, his work nevertheless offers insight into his imagination and into Saudi society at the time, impacted as it was by nation-building efforts.
He crafted renderings of Jeddah International Airport, the head office of Riyad Bank, the University of Petroleum and Minerals, and Jubail Housing. Some of his most fascinating images depict courtyards and classrooms populated by students and teachers of a women’s-only wing at King Abdulaziz University.
Other depicted facilities include the interior of the Saudi Air Defense HQ, a scene that looks like it could have been lifted from a science-fiction film.
“There is a lot of the visualization right here,” noted Espinoza. “At the time that that was done, (computers weren’t commonplace), so he may have been taking his cues from movies.”
He also depicted a large tent designed by the architecture firm Skidmore, Owings & Merrill for the coronation of King Khalid in the mid-Seventies. It might have been also used when the king was touring the country and arriving at various airports.
“This beautiful tent was built so that he would not arrive to this barren airport, but to an acknowledging and glorious space. Carlos was very probably invested in depicting all the very masculine aspects of that as well,” said Espinoza.
One of Diniz’s sketches for the Jubail Housing Presentation commissioned by Charles Kober Associates - Huyn Kim. (Supplied)
Diniz, who was based in southern California, took on several international projects (facilitated by fax machines), executing his renderings with as much cultural accuracy as possible.
“I think it was important to him that they not look like some Westerner’s take on the culture. (They had to look) native to the area,” said Espinoza. “He paid attention to what sort of clothing people wore and what sort of fauna was there. They did massive research on things like that.”
As to what Diniz might have thought of Saudi’s transformation today, Espinoza remarked: “I think that he would have loved the country, and would have been very excited to be there. It seems to be the kind of place that he would have found much to do and experience. He would have loved the historical area of Al-Balad, Jeddah, with all the wood sculptures on the outsides of the buildings. That would have been a place that Carlos would have spent a whole day sketching, because that’s what he’d like to do.”
King Abdulaziz University Classroom, 1785. (Supplied)
It was his love for travel that saw Diniz develop an interest in architecture that lasted until his death in 2001. Born in 1928 to a Brazilian father and an American mother, Diniz was just 18 when he joined the US Army. He was stationed in Venice, relishing the beauty of its famed, romantic monuments.
“You cannot walk around Venice and not fall in love with some of the buildings. It became a very special place for him,” said Espinoza. She fondly remembers some of their trips together in Europe. “There would always be some place planned out for him to just sit and sketch for hours,” she said.
In 1957, having returned to the US, Diniz set up his own firm, building a new generation of innovators in architectural illustration. “He was not always the easiest person to work for, because he had very high standards,” said Espinoza. “He would make artists in his studio redo something they had spent days on if it wasn’t right. But he trained them really well.”
Al Balad Commercial Center, 1761. (Supplied)
By the time he retired in the mid-Nineties, Diniz had collaborated with some of the most famous names in architecture, including Frank Gehry, I. M. Pei, and Norman Foster.
“He was the go-to guy, because he set the standard and the design,” said Espinoza. “When you get down to it, the real purpose of architectural rendering is to (encourage people to) say, ‘I want to go there. I want to live there.’ He created the kind of look that everybody wanted.”
In addition, the drawings hark back to the pre-digital era. Perhaps unlike today’s illustrators, Diniz’s generation of artists added a more personal dimension to their hand-drawn imagery.
Diniz’s legacy is evidenced by a wealth of archival material. But Espinoza and her husband want to publicize Diniz’s artistry, described by Espinoza as lying somewhere between technical drawing and fine art.
“Our hope is that the renderings wind up someplace where they can be accessed by students and academics and that they would somehow stay in the public view,” Espinoza concluded.
For further information about Carlos Diniz and his work, visit carlosdinizart.com
