La crítica arquitectónica y la imagen del arquitecto / Architectural Criticism and the Public Image of the Architect

Public image matters more than ever. Today, whether we like it or not, form is more important than content. In architecture, this can be understood in two ways: that the form of a work matters more than its function, but also that the photographic representation of a work matters more than its physical reality, since a renowned building is always ‘seen’ by many more people through media-reproduced photographs than firsthand. The medium is the message, as Marshall McLuhan said at the beginning of the 1960s, yet today, with internet, this is even more the case. The actual physicality of a building also matters, of course, especially for its regular users, citizens and neighbors, and whomever has paid for it. But as we all know by now, in addition to programmed use, important architectural works are often expected to fulfill an additional ‘use’, namely shaping someone’s public image. We live in a society that is ever more mediatized and competitive, and public image is increasingly the basis of that competition, like it or not.

Public image matters, but criticism is not about shaping public image. Public image can be affected by the publication of critical text, as it is a byproduct of criticism, but that should never be the objective. The primary task of criticism is to maintain and update the architectural canon; the body of exemplary works of architecture. Not everything that is designed and built can be included in architectural history books. There needs to be some sort of filtering out or selection, and criticism serves as a first “sieving”, as Joseph Rykwert has written, “separating the wheat from the chaff”.  Or the good from the bad and the ugly.

This is why, once a work is selected for publication, it doesn’t really matter very much whether the criticism is positive or not. The mere fact of being published already confers a degree of prestige upon a work. As Oscar Wilde quipped: “there is only one thing worse than being talked about badly, and that is not being talked about at all.” Or as Philip Johnson put it: “you can say whatever you like about me as long as you spell my name correctly.”

Not long ago, architect Patrik Schumacher (partner in the office of Zaha Hadid Architects) said in one of his infamous facebook rants that critics should “explain” what architects do. He argued that a critic’s role is to act as mediator, transmitting or translating a message from architect to the public. I vehemently oppose such a role. Criticism is a reading or an interpretation of a work in its own right; perhaps one that never even occurred to the architect, or that the architect never intended. 

There is a fundamental difference between an explanatory statement written by an architect or a communications agency to explain the intentions behind a work, and a critical text written by someone who describes, opines, interprets, and yes, judges. An architect’s statement or press release are never critical precisely because they explain intentions, and because they have a vested interest in creating public image. Criticism must be independent, or autonomous. If it isn’t, it can lack credibility. 

Unfortunately, some supposed ‘critics’ don’t understand this principle, and because of this, criticism itself has developed a public image problem. Many architectural periodicals don’t even publish critical writing such as reviews anymore, publishing explanatory texts or articles based on press releases instead. Independent criticism costs time and money precisely because it is disinterested, at least in theory. Unfortunately, many architectural publishers —whether digital or on paper— are having difficulty making ends meet, and so they often choose the easy road. At the same time, the fact that a number of architects have become media celebrities often means that any criticism of their work is seen as gauche: “What’s the matter with this critic — everybody else likes this building!” Another problem is architectural photography. It’s so good and so seductive, that placing critical words next to it can seem awkward. Everything is always perfect in architectural photographs: the sky is blue, the people are beautiful, and the buildings always look cool.

The editors of many architecture and design magazines prefer not to publish writing that is too critical. They are often afraid to offend the architect, who probably provided the photographs free of charge and promised to buy at least a hundred issues of the magazine to give out to clients as Christmas gifts, but only if the article is favorable of course. I like to write for Mark Magazine —an international architecture magazine published in the Netherlands— because its editors generally grant their writers a relatively high degree of freedom, allowing each writer to express a distinct voice.

I first became interested in writing about architecture when I realized one day that seeing an article published in a periodical provided a rush similar to the kind that comes from seeing an architectural design realized, with the exception that it costs much less time and effort, and doesn’t require carrying professional liability insurance. Then again, writers’ fees tend to be a lot lower too.

It’s also true that most editors base their decision on whether or not to publish a particular work on the quality of the architectural photography more than the quality of the writing. Good photography is essential for books and especially magazines, since customers usually make their decision of whether or not to buy a magazine after browsing the images. Text is therefore usually secondary to the image. It shouldn’t be like this, if you ask me, but what can you do? It’s simply how media and human behavior work in a capitalist economic system.

Recently, for a special 50th issue of Mark Magazine, I was asked to ‘revisit’ five buildings in Spain that had initially been published in earlier issues of this magazine. My piece looked once again at these buildings several years after completion, this time while in use. I’m always a bit skeptical when I have to write about buildings that still smell like wet paint. When a building is visited before occupancy, it is impossible to evaluate its performance and its functionality, criteria which I happen to believe are also important. In theory, architecture is always perfect, but in reality that is never the case. I much prefer real imperfection to ideal perfection: it offers greater poetic nuance and anecdotes when undertaking a reading of a work. In this article in Mark, the photographs were actually somewhat critical, not glamorous. They were certainly not very useful to architects or politicians intent on exploiting emblematic architecture for public image purposes. 

Indeed, one of the tasks of criticism is to denounce. As the fans of Masters of Concrete [an anonymous Spanish-language website that lampoons celebrity architects] already know, architecture is not exempt from charlatans and snake-oil salesmen, and it’s important that critics call architectural bluffs and denounce false claims. But always while focusing on architectural work and not personalities.

The façade of a purportedly ‘ecological’ building in Barcelona offers a good example. Its photovoltaic panels were designed to perform the additional function of keeping direct sunlight out of windows in summer but not in winter, helping to reduce air-conditioning and heating costs. It’s a brilliant idea. However, the problem is that the checkered composition of the façade causes the photovoltaic panels to also cast shadows on one another. If the windows and their PV cells had been positioned in horizontal rows, i.e. lined up at the same height, this wouldn’t occur, but aesthetically this would of course result in a less dynamic-looking façade. Curiously, the project statement claims that parametric software was used to optimize the positioning of the panels. It is clear that what the architects attempted to ‘optimize’ was the aesthetic form, not the performance. These architects and their client [Endesa electrical utility company] understand, after all, that image matters more than substance. Can we expect otherwise from a private utility corporation that needs to greenwash its image, and from architects who are willing to sell their souls?

Architectural criticism is necessary in order to keep tabs on overly ambitious architects, politicians, and clients. Criticism, understood as ‘opposition’ or as a system of quality control, is absolutely necessary in any democracy. I also believe that architectural criticism is a form of more general social critique, and so it should never apply exclusively to architects. We are what we build, something that we know only too well in Spain, and I see architectural criticism as a valuable form of social analysis. That is at least how I see my role as a citizen.

Some countries don’t tolerate criticism, as we also know only too well in Spain, especially those of us over a certain age. In Iran, for example, my blog criticalista.com is censored. In its place, an official page appears recommending ‘alternative’ websites for its citizens to visit. I’ve never mentioned Iran in any of my writings, but that doesn’t matter. They don’t want their citizens to see that even an average joe like myself can express their opinions more or less freely. Censorship policies have caused image problems for countries such as Iran, forcing them to gradually and subtly change ways. Public image, it should be noted, also has a positive aspect, as it can bring about political change.  

Web 2.0 sites such as Archleaks [now shut down], where anyone can write anything they want in absolute anonymity about any architect, are a form of ‘criticism’ available to one and all. However, I prefer to put my real name to my writings. As such, I’m prepared to also accept criticism myself. Nobody’s perfect. I’ve put my foot in my mouth more than once, and had to rectify my errors. Everybody makes mistakes. Anonymous criticism may entail zero personal risk to one’s public image, but at the same time it also lacks credibility.

Today, everybody’s a critic. We all put thumbs up on facebook, stars on Twitter, and hearts on Instagram. This is changing criticism as we once knew it, when only a handful of anointed writers effectively monopolized this activity. The times they are a changin’, which is precisely why we need, more then ever, criticism that is insightful, independent and disinterested. Perhaps even with a sense of humor.

[Earlier versions of this text were presented at a symposium at the ETSAB (School of Architecture of the Polytechnical University of Catalonia) and published in the academic journal Palimpsesto #13.]