Torrey Tracy, assistant professor of interior architecture and design, came to the Fay Jones School of Architecture and Design in 2017 as a visiting professor. In 2019, he became a tenure-track professor. Tracy has a Master of Architecture and a Bachelor of Science in criminal justice, both from the University of Nevada Las Vegas (UNLV). Tracy is a licensed architect in Arkansas and Nevada. He primarily teaches first-year studio and the building systems course.  

 

How did you go from studying criminal justice to teaching interior architecture?  

Originally, I aspired to study forensic pathology and work as a medical examiner. I applied to multiple medical schools for years, and, very fortunately, I did not get accepted. Each year though, while I was applying, I took a different class at UNLV to stay academically engaged. I discovered an introduction to architecture course by searching a list of classes open to my work schedule. While taking the course, I found myself enthusiastic about the field, and I admitted to myself that I should pursue a career in design. So, I applied and eventually got accepted to UNLV’s bridge program for a Master of Architecture degree.  

This was a program for people with non-architectural backgrounds wanting to move into architecture. There were 12 or so of us in the program, and it took about five years to get my Master of Architecture degree. After architecture school, I immediately found work at a firm in Las Vegas working on hospitality projects. Shortly after I graduated, I was asked to teach a studio in the spring semester. It was just one, part-time class at my alma mater. That position eventually led me to leave my job at the firm and work full-time as a visiting instructor. After my one-year contract ended, I was without a job, but I was asked to return to the office I had left.  

On a side note, of all my recent accomplishments, my mother is probably most proud that I was asked to come back and work at the office I left. She’s said it revealed to her that she raised a responsible and desired human being. I officially got the job as an assistant professor here in Arkansas in 2017. Since then, life has been truly wonderful. In 2022, I became a licensed architect, which, for me, was a nightmare due to the intensity of the process, but it allowed me to start my small practice soon after.  

What brought you to U of A?  

I saw a posting for a position to teach interior design at the Fay Jones School, and I eagerly applied. I didn’t get the position; however, Carl Matthews (department head of interior architecture and design) emailed me to ask if he could keep my application material on file in case there were any visiting positions available in the future. This was an email that came directly from him, and that felt so wonderful. I wasn’t going to say no; who would say no? A year later, I got a phone call from Carl. He explained that there was a visiting position available. Before offering it to me though, he asked me to come out for reviews to see if I’d be a good fit. When I visited, I almost immediately fell in love with Fayetteville. Before that visit, my only connection with the area was when Steve Luoni (director of the University of Arkansas Community Design Center) came to UNLV and lectured about some of the big design moves happening in Northwest Arkansas. I wanted to see what Arkansas was about. It was a bit of a risk though. Before Carl called me with news of the visiting position, I had already accepted a position at Louisiana State University (LSU). The position I accepted at LSU was a tenure-track position, and the one at the Fay Jones School was a visiting, one-year position. There were no guarantees. Nevertheless, I very graciously, and with some remorse, told LSU, “I have a feeling about Arkansas, and I just can’t turn away from it.” Even with no guarantee after a year, I knew I had to do it.   

What was intriguing about the Fay Jones School?  

When I came for final reviews, I found the students’ work to be very robust and exciting. I also found the faculty to be extra friendly. Off campus, walking up and down Dickson Street, I experienced the warmth of the community, even within a quick two-day visit. I was also aware of the work of Marlon Blackwell. When I was in architecture school, his work was well known out West. I wasn’t very familiar with Fay Jones’ work until coming here, but it was exciting to learn about his legacy. I felt there was a narrative in Arkansas that I wanted to be a part of. Lastly, I could tell there was something in the air with the interior architecture program. It was becoming more technical and more pronounced. I wanted to contribute to its growing success.  

What drew you to interior architecture in particular? 

An interior design degree in Las Vegas is the crème de la crème. Because of the city’s rich history of hospitality, interior architecture in Las Vegas is, and has always been, leading the design charge. It is a playground for interior architecture. We don’t typically celebrate architectural forms as much in Las Vegas, but, boy, do we enjoy the interiority of a fine dining and retail space. If there was ever a connection to a particular field of design for me, with my history of being in Las Vegas, interior design was in my, and in every Las Vegan’s, DNA to some level. It’s all about making someone’s experience unlike anything else, making them feel like they’re on top of the world. That starts at that human scale and with an inundation of light, color, and texture — natural and artificial. Lastly, Las Vegas is a city that forces you to look up and absorb the ceilings of the many casinos and public spaces. To me, that’s interior architecture.  

What is something about your job that people don’t realize?  

I think that people don’t realize that faculty have interests that lie outside of the classroom, often unrelated to design. We also have a contractual obligation to do research or creative practice. That’s a very liberating and exciting component of our profession. I am getting paid to be creative in the way that I want to be. I try my best to bring this element into the classroom, but it needs to be properly balanced. 

What is that interest for you?  

It’s a tie into my past in criminology. I’m very interested in what I call “sites of sensitivity.” Those are sites or structures that have a connection to less-than-positive elements of history. These sites of sensitivity are sites that have trauma, spaces of psychological power or influence. Specifically, it’s about how we address these sites in the form of memorials or establishing memory. What do we do with those spaces? Do we just forget them? Do we move past them? Are there just too many to even do anything about? Some have values that are very intense and that we need to be kept aware of. That’s what drives me. Very specifically, I have dedicated a healthy amount of my time exploring Emmett Till’s murder in 1955 Mississippi, specifically addressing Bryant’s grocery store, where 14-year-old Emmett whistled at the white woman at the counter. He was subsequently murdered for doing so. I have original work about these “sites of sensitivity” published in multiple journals. 

What is the most difficult part of your job? 

Hoping that I made a sufficient level of daily or weekly impact on each student, so no one feels like they’re not getting what they need to move forward successfully. I don’t want anyone to feel like they aren’t getting the level of academic care they need. That’s a challenge I deal with personally. A very superficial challenge of mine is that I’m not getting any younger, and every year we have a new batch of talented students. One of the greatest signs of respect is knowing and remembering someone’s name. I work hard at making sure I get to know my students on a first-name basis because that, to me, is a real sign of respect. 

What would you be doing if not in your current position?  

I would love to work or volunteer with a police department working on cold case files. That is something I aspire to do when I retire. I want to be the volunteer who brings a bunch of donuts and coffee to a group of cold case detectives and help where I can. Or maybe be on Saturday Night Live. Or both.  

What is an accomplishment you’re proud of? 

It sounds superficial but getting my architecture license was a hard fight for me. It was six exams in total, and I failed them multiple times. I got kind of good at failing them, especially the exams that dealt with structures and involved calculations. It was just a hard fight. I almost gave up many times.  

Why didn’t you quit? 

I believe there are two types of smart people. Some smart people pass exams right away. The other kind are the people who know if they keep trying, they’re going to eventually get it, and they’re going to get the same rewards. I wanted to be a smart person. I’m not the first kind of smart, but maybe I’m the second. I studied; I kept fighting at it. It cost me a lot more than it would if I passed my first time, but I did it. Now I get to enjoy the same rewards as the first kind of smart person.  

What is a talent or skill you are trying to master? 

I enjoy playing the harmonica. I have been playing the instrument for a few years. I’m not quite a master; I don’t think I have accomplished the required 10,000 hours, but I do enjoy playing it.  

I would also like to find a way to make every person I meet laugh in some capacity. Making someone genuinely laugh is awesome. Laughter is just the best stuff in the world. 

What is something that you wish students knew about you?  

I truly want them all to succeed and have wonderful professional lives. I also want every one of them to live life to the fullest. I want them to live a life free of insecurity and lack of confidence. Early in my career, I harbored some insecurities about how I became a designer later in my adult life. I hope if they knew the insecurities I had, that would give them strength. I want them to say, “I am considerably younger than Torrey was when he started this career. I’m going to have so much of a head start if I want it. And, he’s going to help with his contribution to my experience.” I still have some professional insecurity when it comes to starting late, but I’ve gotten a lot better with it. Teaching has helped me overcome the hurdles. 

Can you talk more about being a nontraditional student?  

I was, on paper, a nontraditional student. Undeniably. I began my career in architecture at 29 and I graduated with my master’s degree at 34. That’s a healthy age. I started a brand-new career at 34 years old. I became licensed at 42. That’s when I officially could call myself an architect. That’s midlife. All that aside and thankfully, I went to a school that was extremely accepting, beyond accepting. At the time, our age wasn’t even a thing. There were 13 of us who completed the program together. I can’t recall if any of us were the same age. Being a nontraditional design student was an interesting experience, but it wasn’t us against the school. It was us against our lives that we had to put on hold to become architects or designers. It was tough. Many of us had families and mortgages. We had to work to navigate through that. But we didn’t have the odd stares from younger students. We were nontraditional in the sense that we didn’t know much about architecture, not because we were sitting in class with 18-year-olds.  

What would you say to nontraditional students?  

I think we have many lives to live. By embarking on a career change later in life, that’s another life. Nontraditional students need to embrace it; they need to accept that they will be leaders, even if they do not know much about the new profession at the onset. It’s also fantastic for younger students to have classmates who are older and wiser because it offers another level of learning. Younger students can learn from the maturity of a nontraditional student. Again, my advice would be to embrace it; you need to be a leader. You do need to learn new material like your more traditional colleagues. Still, there is another level of your understanding that will be vastly different than your younger cohort members in that you have more responsibility to provide mentorship and guidance.