The Architecture of the Profession

The Architecture of the Profession

Purpose, Practice, Prospects

Luke Butcher

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The Architecture of the Profession: Purpose, Practice, Prospects

© 2014, Luke Butcher

mail@luke-butcher.com

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All rights reserved. No part of this eBook may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means without permission in writing from the publisher; except that the material may be reproduced for non-commercial purposes. All such citations must be accredited to the original author.

The right of Luke Butcher to be identified as the Author of this Work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988.

ISBN: 978-1-291-79470-0

The work herein is that of Luke Butcher, produced while he was a student at the Manchester School of Architecture, jointly run by the University of Manchester and Manchester Metropolitan University. It was produced in an educational setting between September 2010 and August 2012. It does not necessarily represent the views of the Manchester School of Architecture.

Every effort has been made by the author to trace the copyright holders to secure permissions for the visual material reproduced herein. Apologies are extended to anyone who may have been inadvertently overlooked.

While every effort has been made to check the accuracy and quality of the information given in this publication, the author does not accept any responsibility for the subsequent use of this information, for any errors or omissions that it may contain, or for any misunderstandings arising from it.

The Architecture of the Profession

Purpose, Practice, Prospects

Luke Butcher

Preface

At some point during the third year of my architectural education I was confronted with a difficult question: Do we need architects? Initially my response had been yes but given time to ruminate upon this troubling statement I was less confident and I began to consider my own personal experiences with architects or lack there of. In truth, outside of the academic setting, my encounters with architects, at that point, had been limited to sixth months shadowing a solo practitioner, for one afternoon a week, and a further two months, between the second and third year of my undergraduate studies, in an office belonging to an international practice with a reputation for being commercially-driven. I had grown up surrounded by the various trades involved in the physical construction of buildings and my education in the built environment industry had started young, with small-scale residential projects, little of which were designed by architects, working with my father who was a carpenter. From what I could see it didn’t seem to matter that there were no architects involved but I was unsure if the products of this process constituted architecture. I was unwittingly distinguishing between works of architecture and building, arguments that I am now more conscious of, however I was increasingly aware of huge swathes of the built environment that were not designed by architects but were still considered architecture. It seemed too simplistic to state that architecture was solely the work of architects or that in the absence of architects it would be impossible to create works of architecture. I had found myself facing the two of the oldest dilemmas of professional architectural practice; what exactly are architects for and what differentiates architecture from building?

Of these two positions it was the first that bothered me the most. I believe the differences between architecture and building are subjective and discussing these differences requires an element of philosophical meandering that I am less interested in. The term built environment seems to be a more useful phrase when discussing the human-modified environment, with awareness that this environment is a perturbed concoction of architecture and building. This first position then is the crux of the original question but it is perhaps more useful to expand it: Do we need architects to shape our built environment? Furthermore if architects are not always necessary then what other forces are at play? This was my first encounter with another uneasy professional position that underlies so much of the work of architects—the inherent dependency upon others.

These burgeoning interests underpinned the third year of my undergraduate studies, progressed during a year of professional practice, where I became acquainted with the intricacies of multi-disciplinary practice, and led me to pursue a Masters degree at the Manchester School of Architecture. I originally set out on the Masters programme with the intention of interrogating the social, economic and political forces currently acting upon the construction industry, with a belief that understanding these processes will be crucial in the creation of the future built environment. As the research advanced it became clear that the optimum site to focus my studies upon was the architectural profession itself and whether or not architects have a role to play in shaping the built environment of the 21st century.

There is currently a heightened level of debate surrounding the possible future role of architects and this research can be seen as part of this wider discourse, drawing upon these various commentaries in its construction. These discussions can be categorised in broadly two camps: manifestos, solely concerned with redefining the role of the individual architect; and descriptions of practice organisation, with which this project is more closely aligned. To date little has been written about how either of these would impact on the built environment and this research hopes to address this by not only speculating on the make up of practice but also how the built environment would be shaped, what new systems might be employed and how architects could fit within these.

The research project did not set out to provide a set of definitive answers but instead speculate on future trajectories for the architectural profession. By extrapolating from historical trends and expanding upon current discourses in the field this conjuncture also hints at possible future scenarios for the built environment. Existing discourse has been expanded upon through an extensive survey of over 100 individuals, on both the demand and supply side of the built environment industry, interviews, round table discussion groups, case studies, and my participation in a debate organised by the Royal Institute of British Architects’ Building Futures research group. Furthermore, it was important that, at all times, the research remained grounded in the pragmatics of the real-world and kept a practice orientated perspective in which the architect is just one agent amongst the dynamic forces of the design and construction process.

This book presents the research in three parts. In Part I the role and motivations of architectural practice are investigated. This draws upon the work of Kostof (1977) and Saint (1983) to provide a historical context, and studies by Blau (1984), Cuff (1992) and Yaneva (2010), to offer a sociological understanding of practice, and analysis of the shifting obligations and responsibilities of the profession from antiquity to the present day. Part II deals more specifically with the practice of architecture and how buildings are made. Using two projects designed forty years apart by the same practice, the stories of how each project was shaped and constructed reveals the changes that have taken place and suggest how things might continue changing. Finally, Part III deals with emergent forms of architectural practice, with these futures framed from the perspective of architectural production.

The text then is the culmination of twelve months spent studying the complexities of the architectural profession, but is informed by 36 months worth of curiosity into these issues, and an even longer interest in architecture. It is hoped that the book moves beyond a simple description of the architectural profession and instead turns attention to the architecture of that profession.

Introduction

On the 29th January 2011, speaking at a conference on Free Schools, the UK Secretary of State for Education, Michael Gove, commented that We won’t be getting Richard Rogers to design your school, we won’t be getting any award-winning architects to design it, because no-one in this room is here to make architects richer.[1] Whilst this of course should be seen in the wider context of the debate about the role architects have played in the now axed Building Schools for the Future initiative it does form part of a more complex problem that has only been heightened by events following the global economic collapse. This issue was again highlighted just twelve days later by Sir David Chipperfield. In a speech entitled ‘Searching for Substance’ that he gave at the Royal Institute of British Architects (RIBA) where he was receiving the Royal Gold Medal for Architecture he said If we are in a position where ministers are fundamentally questioning our role [the architect] then we are in a bad place.[2] Comments from the Localism Minister, Greg Clark, to the Architect’s Journal, after barely a month had passed, that there couldn’t be a more important profession to realise the fundamental aspirations of our country[3] only further complicate the situation. That these comments are being made by government ministers and some of the UK architectural community’s most celebrated individuals means that a debate that has been rumbling quietly on for a number of years has been given a more prominent platform. What exactly is an architect in today’s society?

Image of the architect

In the past decade architects—and architecture—have benefited from an increase in media exposure outside of the traditional closed confines of the architectural press. An increased appetite amongst the public for make over shows and renovation and house building programmes resulted in increased exposure for the ‘design industry’ whilst directors of Hollywood blockbusters and commercials alike showcased the iconic architecture of the era in their productions. Personalities such as Kevin McCloud, who became famous for his Grand Designs show, began to speak about the value of good design in public forums, often chastising individuals who failed to employ correct design professionals on his television shows. It was during this time that the brief televisual popularity of the Stirling Prize, the architectural Booker or BAFTA, showed both that there was an untapped public interest in architecture, and that British architects were often found to be working abroad and in the UK.[4]

That the architect has received attention in popular media is not a new development having traditionally featured in the 20th century as a middle-class hero, perhaps most famously in Ayn Rand’s 1943 novel ‘The Fountainhead’, since architecture carries with it the image of an established life-style, yet suggests a temperament more open to emotional novelty and breadth of sympathy than do conventional career patterns.[5] The stereotype for balanced and well rounded individuals who combine a creative approach with a caring, thoughtful disposition[6] was played out in a 2005 survey conducted by London dating agency Drawing Down the Moon that revealed architecture was the sexiest male profession.[7] Two years later the American clothing retailer Banana Republic ran a series of adverts entitled architects at work[8] that featured glamorous, well-dressed ‘architects’ with token plan rolls and models. However, popular images of architects change over time[9] and one hundred and fifty years ago, in The Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewit, the character of Seth Pecksniff portrayed by Dickens was a humbug, lacking in professional probity or talent.[10] It is Rand’s vision of the uncompromising architectural hero, Howard Roark, which defined the perception of architects throughout the early half of the 20th century and at the turn of the millennium, finally shaking off the shackles of the Dickensian gentleman architect. There was though an interim period between the 1960s and 1990s where Rand’s heroic form giver became identified with the tragedy of the tower blocks, and began to be hunted down in his elegant Georgian house by journalists, dragged out and charged with responsibility for Ronan Point, Broadwater Farm, comprehensive redevelopment, overspill estates and windswept plazas everywhere.[11] The Modern movement championed by architects was criticised for its failure to address the real problems faced by users of the built environment and its subsequent collapse left the core values of architects in a shambles.[12] The most famous baiting came from a Prince of the Realm and it would take some years for architects in Britain to cultivate a new position of trust, fed by a bonanza of Lottery and millennium funded cultural institutions, and to return to the illusionary position of Howard Roark.[13]

Despite of all this exposure there has been little focus on the actual job of the contemporary architect, in contrast with other professions—including vets, doctors and planners—who have had various documentaries made about their day-to-day activities. Instead the architect has been wrapped up in the culture of the spectacle and celebrity that came to epitomise the end of the 20th century and the start of the next. The cult of the starchitect escaped the limited territories of student-hero worship and became mainstream.[14] But when the world’s financial markets collapsed and the current crisis of postmodern culture started, architects found themselves marginalised as a luxury[15] that could be easily discarded.  The question what’s wrong with our financial system? was soon followed by the questions What’s wrong with our architecture?[16] An opportunity to educate the wider public about the value of architects, architecture and design in the built environment had been lost.

If society can see no value in employing architects it raises the question as to what exactly do they think an architect is, what is he or she for and what value, if any, can they offer? Architect’s would argue that they have more to offer than mere facade dressing, the superficial image of a building that is increasingly all they are ‘left’ with. The profession though struggles to unite behind one description of what exactly it is they can offer—it is truly a profession united only in title.[17] At the core of this confusion is the very dialectic nature of architecture: is it an art or a profession? Further problems surround what exactly constitutes ‘architecture’ or ‘design’. In the light of these observations is it any wonder that society questions the value of architects? If, as a professional body, architects can not describe themselves, how can they expect those not indoctrinated in their ways to understand their worth?

A brief history of the architect

Architecture as a profession has its routes in antiquity, although the ‘modern profession’ was not formulated until the 19th century. As Spiro Kostof observes the presence of architects is documented as far back as the third millennium before Christ whilst graphic conventions of architectural practice make their appearance even earlier [in] the seventh millennium [BCE].[18] These original architects were not concerned simply with erecting buildings but also astronomy, magic and healing; in the words of Plato they contributed knowledge, not craftsmanship.[19] Within his Ten Books on Architecture, Vitruvius creates a portrait of the architect as a person of broad learning and various talents[20] and whilst certain advice presented by him is too antiquated or prosaic to service contemporary demands—for example, examining the livers of slaughtered cattle to determine the suitability of a proposed site—one assertion has exercised a tenacious hold on the architect: he set in place a triad of commodity, firmness and delight, which remains to this day even if [they] have been updated to reflect contemporary concerns with use/function, technology/tectonics, and aesthetics/beauty.[21]

The wide breadth of tasks that an architect was concerned with continued with the transition from medieval to ‘modern’ processes of thought where the idea of a ‘Renaissance Man’ took hold. The architect was an individual interested in drawing, surveying, geometry, arithmetic, optics, literature, history, philosophy, medicine and astronomy. The Industrial Revolution caused a shift from Agrarian to Capitalism-based economies and the architect began to be considered as a professional in his own right. Sir John Soane put it that the business of the architect is to make the designs and estimates, to direct the works and to measure and value the different parts; he is the intermediate agent between employer and the mechanic.[22] The core ideals of the architecture profession have changed little since then. The contemporary architect can be described as being an individual conceived from ideals of the 18th century, operating in a profession designed in the 19th century, within construction processes formulated in the 20th century, attempting to meet the needs of the 21st century.

Today there are three broad categories of ‘architect’ in operation.[23] Typically a description of a profession split two ways is given, between the design-architect and executive-architect or the artist and the businessman/technologist. However, a third architect that operates on the peripheries of both practices exists, the community-architect. These community or citizen-architects are far smaller in number and on the face of it champion the role of social engagement within the profession. Inadvertently these architects though have marginalised the social-responsibility of the architect into a specialised task. Whilst these architects undoubtedly perform a great service, often in the most disadvantaged parts of the world, to again quote Sir David Chipperfield: It is not an unreasonable presumption that the aim of good of architecture is to serve the public good and that most architects work with that intention.[24] If these intentions are shared by the majority of the profession then why have not always manifested themselves in the last 15 years.

One of the most common concerns talked about by architects is the artificial schism between creation and execution,[25] signified by the design and executive architect. These two distinctions are now firmly entrenched in the construction process itself where it is not uncommon for a practice specialising in design to be employed during the conceptual stages of a project and then for the project to be handed over to a different practice to oversee the construction process (if an architect is employed during this stage at all). It is difficult to locate the exact moment in time that the construction process was fractured into two distinct halves and to some extent there have always been two parallel professions, those of the artist and the craftsman. However, the situation was only exacerbated by the Industrial Revolution, with the subsequent new building typologies and increasing complexity of projects; and then further by the separation of form and function by Modernism in the early 20th century. Albert Kahn, the American architect renowned for his industrial buildings and referred to as the architect of Detroit, would claim that architecture is 90% business and 10% art[26] as he moulded his practice on the model of Henry Ford’s mass production. Kahn epitomises just one example of an architect striving towards one direction of seemingly incompatible opposites. He chose to embrace the auspices of industrial processes to speed up the production of the built environment, which is customarily a slow process, linked as it is to the real time limitations of physical construction.

Responding to crisis

The three types of architect loosely outlined so far are not mutually exclusive nor do they describe a practice of a particular size. A number of architects operate successfully between the boundaries of two, for example a number of starchitects have crafted out successful businesses on the basis of their art.[27] On the whole though this is the professional landscape that now exists. Further distinctions can be drawn between those who practice ‘paper architecture’ and those who take a more active role in the process of building.[28] It is clear then that this crisis of identity is affecting the architect’s relationship with wider society. If there are at least three types of architects is it is no wonder that the term architect has been appropriated by other industries that have nothing to do with the built environment. As Eric Cesal puts it someone stole our damn name.[29] Even protection of title seems to mean little then when you can have IT programmers appropriating the name ‘architect’ to become ‘programming architects’.

The identity crisis that the