Design competitions are a warning sign

Architectural competitions have a long and illustrious history, but we’re kidding ourselves if we think every little project deserves one. Most are a tremendous waste of time.

Centuries ago, France’s best architects competed for the most important commissions in the nation. Of course, this meant that some of their most highly trained professionals only built one or two buildings in their lifetime, but we have beautiful watercolors of alternate versions of realities that could have been in addition to the influential structures built. Those paintings and drawings are still a rich source of study for Eurocentric architects and historians.

Today, architects are invited to come up with their boldest and most innovative thoughts to apply to major projects all over the world. These buildings are so important that, on occasion, the architects might even be paid a stipend for their efforts. However, in most cases the architects are expected to be flattered to associate with such wonderful potential clients, no matter the long odds (or even entry fees) linked to the project.

Open competitions fuel the dreams of upstart firms everywhere. The big break, the recognition for radical and new ideas, is a tempting prospect, and one that occasionally does lead to immense recognition. This happens most often on smaller projects such as memorials, but there is a very real chance that these can kickstart a new designer’s career.

Most of the time, however, competitions are simply a way for clients to put a positive spin on having no idea what they want to do. In fact, if a client sends out an RFP that asks for a rendered design concept on a fairly standard building type, odds are about 10:1 that they are new to the industry and don’t even have a clear program in mind to test the project’s financial viability. They’re looking for a free consultation to jumpstart their work. Last week I even saw an open competition posted for a “global company’s” office reception desk.

Some are invited and paid affairs, which obviously make more sense to enter, but the deliverable expectations are much higher, and can tie up essential staff for weeks or even months. The monetary calculations design firms make tend to reflect their odds of winning. For a fee payment of $30,000, the firm may spend over $100,000 in pursuit of a very large commission with a 3:1 chance of winning. One win will pay for the other pursuits in this case, but no wins will severely strain a firm’s finances. A win also may guarantee a free revision of the concept, since there is no way it can effectively meet the owner’s needs without good dialog.

Still, architects are all too willing to leap at the chance to give away their ideas, especially if they have unpaid student labor willing to produce the work. Never mind the fact that they usually aren't even good ideas, because a truly innovative building design doesn't come fully formed from the head of a dissociated architect. Good work takes collaboration and input from all of a project’s stakeholders.

Extremely high-profile state commissions and memorials stand apart from this criticism if handled well. An expert client that requires a custom design to fit their unique market position or function generally does not exist for these sorts of projects, and when they do a heavy client involvement with all teams will take the process to fruitful territory. The competition allows them to move forward in a brash (or sometimes thoughtful) new way.

However, by the nature of their speed and the lack of client dialogue on the process, the designs provided via the competition are often recycled from the last one, or from other work. Repackaging old ideas into new forms is generally the most effective way to approach a design contest. In almost every case, there simply isn’t time for a full thesis—based on in-depth research and truly innovative thinking—to be formed, and the design team is faced with compiling their own preferences and existing work into a package that can be rendered.

That sort of thinking and research required for most projects, including basically all commercial ones, needs the special input that the client must bring to the table. The idea that a design firm will develop a concept without that input, without fully understanding the necessary branding, the specific target audience, the timeline of user experience that the owner bases their business model around, makes no sense and suggests that the owner most likely doesn’t have the vision–or money–required to complete such a project.

The past several years of a struggling economy have meant that dreamers, whether small town councils or unfunded developers, have relied upon idle design teams to help generate enthusiasm for new work. Reaching out with a request for proposal from an architect is essentially free, and adding a requirement for a concept design can generate artist’s renderings and new ideas at no cost to the owner.

Recent economic improvements have shifted that behavior slightly. Today design firms are busier and clients limit the RFP to three or four firms that have been pre-approved. But the net result for the design team is the same: a lot of free work for a project that is unlikely to be built, because the client does not know what they want or what will work. If they knew, and could afford it, they would do their homework and hire a firm outright, and get to work. The competition is simply a delay tactic for undercooked project ideas.

Architects and designers are not giving up on competitions anytime soon; they’re too ingrained in the culture. Still, we all need to look hard at anyone who proposes holding one today. Competitions are a warning sign, one that says to look closely at the competence and capabilities of the client.

Architectural staff, software and media

The empowerment of new hires (and existing staff) is strongly affected by two different causes: software and media.

These two causes often get mixed together because of younger generations’ familiarity with both, but they are distinct issues that need to be treated as such, even though they can feed into each other.

If not taken seriously, they can pull a successful traditional firm down by a lack of enthusiasm or engagement, and by a loss of ambitious people. If handled properly, they can engage and invigorate an entire company, and build a strong and respected company team. In the broader scheme of architectural design, these are key factors that are going to widen the gap between architects hired for great design, and those hired for production or necessity.

1: Software

Tools change constantly. People are proud of their skill sets with software, and if a firm’s are old or not working well with their hardware, employees will think they are falling behind their peers in computer technology. If a company’s principals don’t take advantage of new technology, not only will they lose to competitors in terms of productivity and speed, they will lose their most ambitious workers. This has been the case in the past with building technology and professional development, but the tools architects use have never before changed as fast as they are now. Continued training on how to draw and build models was rarely needed before the past decade.

Designers and architects will find temporary fixes for deadlines, but constantly being behind on the technology curve sends a stronger negative message to employees than even to clients. If an architect’s skills drop, then they will have fewer potential employers, and ultimately will need to be replaced even in the same company. New employees know this even subconsciously.

A lack of focus on production technology, even if solely for firm competitiveness, is in fact a lack of focus on employee development. Architects and designers who aren’t supported by good software will inevitably see their companies as uninterested in their professional growth.

2: Media

Today's most talented new interns are motivated designers that want to stay part of the national and global conversation on design. This isn’t new, but the opportunities to be a part of that are more apparent today, and waiting to be much more seasoned for this engagement is no longer the norm. Online and social media have changed where engaged design enthusiasts go for information, and have (obviously) opened up tremendous new outlets for public expression.

When I started out as an architect, my peers and I were looking to be guided and trained by mentors, and to be given responsibility. We didn’t expect to be authoring papers or representing our company. We did not demand empowerment, because it wasn't realistic. In retrospect that’s difficult to imagine.

Today we're seeing a broader and more diverse group of younger people representing companies globally, learning and demonstrating new technologies and processes, as well as in social media. What that has meant for many seasoned architects is that they must make additional efforts in media and outreach in order to catch up with new interns and young architects in terms of writing and sharing. We can no longer build our reputations by virtue of our experience, but must demonstrate the gathering of that experience to the world.

The research-supporting-teaching model of academia has, thanks to the internet and social media, come to the architecture and design profession in a small way. Research can be simply gathered with experience as in the past, but in order for it to enhance a design reputation, to build on the practice, that research must be demonstrated and shared as it becomes available. If an architect intends to be seen as an expert in their field, they must actively show their expertise to the public, not just to their clients.

Leading architects are doing this very consciously with external initiatives, either through teaching, internal research, hosting industry panels, publishing, TED talks and other options. Without it, an architect can still be hired for their portfolio and production capability, but they will be trusted much less on their abilities and creativity, and will miss out on the top commissions. This has long been the case, but the need is more urgent today due to the relatively recent changes in sharing and reporting. Barriers to publishing are lowered and confident firms do not hesitate.

Fifteen years ago an architectural firm wouldn't be looking to an intern or unlicensed architect to lead an initiative or contribute publicly, but now many companies must in order to retain those people. This isn’t because the younger generation simply feels entitled to more promotional experience, but because technology has changed to a point where they can be and have been more globally focused, and they don’t want to enter a creative company to suddenly be stifled. Instead they want to be empowered. Further, savvy clients expect it, and expect to see more experts representing a firm’s initiatives than before.

Many of those empowering initiatives are in the creative use of new software, thus bringing these two items together, but that does not mean we should confuse them.

It’s important to remember what empowerment really means. Empowerment is not simply responsibility, but responsibility with trust and support. Without that trust and support, responsibility becomes a burden, and not a reward. Without being encouraged by management to speak out, make decisions and pursue new avenues of knowledge, fear of failure becomes the primary motivator, stifling creativity. In that case, the intelligence or talent of the new designer is no longer even useful, since they know they must be second-guessed and will soon step back from making recommendations at all.

There is already a gap between respected design architects and the rest, but those positions are still fluid. The positions may remain so for smaller companies, even as the gap continues to widen. But for larger architectural firms, ignoring the changing needs of junior architects will either cement a status as hacks or will lead them out of business. Giving them the tools to contribute to the firm as well as to the design profession can allow these companies to thrive.

Job opening for an architect, but not that kind of architect

From Ernst & Young:

Job Summary 

The Global Enterprise Program Architect is an architecture resource that translates business vision and strategy into an effective enterprise program by creating, communicating and refining architecture insights (requirements, principles, models) that define program/portfolio architectures into enterprise implementation. The goals of the Program Architect are to implement architecture efficiency and consistency into the enterprise via the large transformational programs. They are responsible for delivering architecture views aligned to the business needs at the program level.
...

Essential Functions

• Be an active participant in a team of senior and highly experienced global enterprise architects

• Work with the EA leadership team to develop the vision for the area of specialization and effectively and consistently communicate this to key stakeholders

• Gathers feedback that helps EA improve and evolve the quality and type of EA services provided

• Create and maintain artifacts describing program architecture and implementation strategy

• Provide clear vision for architecture requirements that show models of future state, with roadmaps that steer the implementation of program initiatives

• Accountability for delivery of architectural description (AD) for program elements (AD of strategy, AD of information, AD of systems, AD of processes, etc), from Conceptual to Logical Architectures, based on relevant Contextual / Business Architectures

• Accountability to ensure that architecturally relevant (long term) program decisions are made, documented, signed off, and then adhered to through effective governance

• Responsible for supporting the Program Manager with scoping the program, defining the required architectural skills / roles, estimating the architectural resource levels / profiles required, and the management and quality of program architecture deliverables, including third party and non-EA deliverables as appropriate

• Ensuring that the final solution is maintainable and supportable within the target operating model

• Implementing Program (and supporting relevant non-Program) governance bodies

• Accountable for implementation of enterprise-level roadmaps (multi-year) at the program level

• Support portfolio strategic planning responsibilities

• Collaborate with architects across the enterprise to identify strategic opportunities and in the rationalization of cross segment dependencies

• Influence segment specific roadmaps and program strategies in alignment with enterprise initiatives

...

In case you were wondering, despite the fact that architects (the kind who design buildings) establish space programs for enterprise implementation, often based on supporting the client's target operating models, and seeks to assist clients with transformational projects and programs, this is not in fact an architecture job, nor is it related to the building industry in any way. Not yet, at least.

Frankly, this description points out how far architects' roles have gotten from other areas of expertise and management thinking. While on the one hand, it is exactly this job description that has led the enterprise architect to adopt the term "architect," the enterprise or program architect has far surpassed architects themselves in the mind of management and consulting firms as a resource or profession that relates to profitability.

Architects can and should fill most of the roles listed above to coordinate a business owner's strategy for their physical and spatial presence. To do so, architects must engage with an owner's business goals directly, and not be looked upon as a required expense or necessary evil.

If they do not, then they will further marginalize the architectural profession and can expect to be managed by enterprise architects or strategic design thinkers in the very near future.

Collectible architecture and decline of criticism

Much like a furniture piece in a home, or a specific artist for a museum, celebrity architects (or "starchitects" as some like to say) have become little more than collectible goods for cities. Architectural criticism has become a joke when referencing many of these architects' works, with the deference and boosterism approaching that of an amateur art enthusiast fawning over Hirst or Koons.

In fact, their branding and appeal is similar to that of a well-known living artist selling to a museum:

Get one now, you need to have one to be current, to be world-class! Visitors will see you as having sophisitication and intelligence! Let the world know that your cultural organizations are on par with those found in the major gateway cities! Don't fall behind the high-society curve!

It doesn't really matter if the city is collecting a Gehry, a Zaha, a Koolhaas, a Calatrava, a Libeskind or one of the others, but there are several key considerations:

1. They must collect from the right list of designers. This is no different than going to a city's art museum to see a painting from each of the pre-approved masters that people have read about. People feel smart, and they feel cultured when they see the requisite Picasso, Warhol and Monet, and if they don't they're disappointed. I'm sorry cities, but a Lake/Flato, a Bing Thom or a Kieran Timberlake just isn't going to cut it, no matter how acclaimed and lasting those architects' designs may be, and no matter how much good they do for the neighborhood-- they're not on the weird/cool list.
2. Try to look a tiny bit original. Just as most city museums normally don't invest all their money in one artist, a city needs to pick a new celebrity architect from the list each time. Visitors want to build familiarity with the same architects on different trips in order to feel smart, but they will want to see different ones in the same town.
3. The project must appear bizarre, and shouldn't improve the city's sidewalks or livability. Ideally, it will appear as if it were 3-D printed, with no trace of the workmen that built it, and preferably will not look like a building at all. It might go unnoticed by the casual observer if not, and that would defeat the whole purpose.
4. It must look like other work from that architect. There's really no point of hiring a celebrity architect if visitors don't recognize their work, and the moderately informed dilletante won't be able to if they don't repeat the same formula over and over again. The arguable exception to this is Koolhaas, but he is almost in a league of his own in this regard, since the primary requirement for his projects is the lack of any sort of human scale on the exterior and a jarring, brutal appearance.

This works for about a dozen architects, tops. The reason that it can't work for more than that is the same reason that too many talented artists can't ask the same prices as an (arguably bad) artist like Damien Hirst. They simply don't have the public critical approval or notoriety, and the moderately informed public simply can't remember too many names.

Hirst in London

If you can afford it, and you buy a Hirst (I'm not sure why you would, but bear with me), you will be talked and written about for your purchase. You can overpay or get a great deal, it doesn't really matter. You will find validation and you may (who knows?) find a good return on your investment

If, on the other hand, you find an artist that speaks to you, whose work you adore, you will need to have a much higher degree of confidence in yourself and in your own taste. You probably won't be wirtten about and you probably won't be validated. In fact, there's a good chance that others might not like your new painting at all. Worse, they might see another piece by the same artist that they dislike, and therefore think your purchase was silly.

That's not to say that others will like your Hirst. But if they don't, it won't matter because the art world has pronounced it "good," and you don't need to think further than that. Your personal purchase from a talented and sophisticated up-and-coming artist won't have that same pronouncement, no matter how good it makes you feel whenever you pass by it or linger in front of it.

In this way, the celebrity architect's work is almost exactly like Hirst's. It has been pre-approved and you can promote it as an example of your sophistication. Odds are fairly high that it won't make you feel good (improve your city's urbanism in any way), although it still might (Gehry's Bilbao Guggenheim has that reputation, for example, despite the city's resurgence coming primarily from improved train service). But your new building will stand out like mad, and you can rest assured that visitors will notice it and talk about.

The unknown, or lesser-known, artist whose work speaks to you personally, who is talented and hard-working, but known mainly in professional circles, is much like the skilled architect that focuses on making your city better. You will be happier on a daily basis with the results, but the local arts society members aren't likely to celebrate your choice. You won't be written about in flashy magazines, even if the local artist community (or urbanist and pedestrian group) respects your decision.

Gehry in Biloxi

Ironically, these radical projects promote a global homogeneity and an inability to find anything specifically surprising about a place. It's exciting to learn about George Ohr in Biloxi, Mississippi, and his reliance on the local clays and culture. Frank Gehry's twisted metal forms are ultimately much less compelling, or at least compelling in a wholly different way that is unrelated to the mad potter himself.

In this same regard, we see cities building expensive art museums that deliberately look just like the shopping malls, holocaust museums, church additions or other art museums in other cities, with different post-design justifications for their required appearance.

What we're witnessing is a global flattening of culture that extends outward from our museum collections and into our built world. Perhaps this isn't new, but it's easy, because if viewers can be just a little bit informed, they can feel smart without ever being challenged.

Ideology and the value of design

Sam Jacob has an interesting post in Dezeen on the value of architecture. While I sympathize with much of it, and share many of his frustrations, it is unclear what sort of ideologies he wants to be better represented in commercial and public architecture.

Yet we should be wary of focusing our argument on the bottom line. Architecture and design are fundamentally useless activities when viewed through the lens of a project manager’s spreadsheet. That’s why so much bad design is commissioned: because it doesn't make any difference when it is totalled up in a column. Project managers get fired because buildings are late or go over budget, but rarely because a building isn't very good.

—Sam Jacob

A building that is late or over budget is not, by its nature, very good. A design that is inappropriate for a project’s client, for its location, for its schedule, is not a good design. This is true for any industry, not just architecture.

Great architecture is seldom an expression of ideology or of highbrow culture, although such architecture does exist and is celebrated. But a world constructed of such architecture would be overwhelming and difficult to inhabit.

For most of society, architecture is great when it creates great streets and spaces. It enriches their lives by giving them memorable places for connections of friendship and love, for happiness or introspection. It rarely celebrates its creator’s genius, or its builder’s wealth, and never does so at the expense of its user.

And that, its focus on its user, is also what architecture has in common with art that is loved, versus art that is celebrated. Whether music, painting or prose, art that exists as a luxury or for “an echo chamber of its own making” will be celebrated but rarely ever loved. It is, in fact, a waste of money, except for the artists that produce it and study it closely.

Take, for example, music that is considered high culture. It is typically not great creatives like Tom Waits or Kyp Malone, but classical art that only a select group of (mostly wealthy and well-dressed) people care about. Art is similar: those “in the know” would select very different artists appreciated only by the wealthiest or most involved as great work, with a select few artists singled out for that distinction for reasons that would not matter to the culture at large.

And that is how architecture, as culture, is celebrated today as well, as a rarefied practice that only the few can or should appreciate. This is why the UK banned curved school buildings. They were blindly reaching for a way to build good buildings that are not a money-wasting shout into the echo chamber of architects, and don’t know how to do it. The ban was a reaction to a problem that they cannot understand.

They know that architecture as culture is in danger of repeating the brutalist mistakes of the 60’s and 70’s, except with less durable materials, and they are correct. They want to avoid those mistakes. Most architects want to repeat them, if only to promote their own artistic ideologies, ideologies that are irrelevant to the rest of the population.