yyzer
Senior Member
from today's Star...pretty good article by Christopher Hume...
In defence of starchitecture
Some critics are happy to bid the boom and its bold buildings goodbye. They're being silly
Apr 18, 2009 04:30 AM
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Christopher Hume
Urban Affairs Columnist
They say we should be careful what we wish for, and for good reason. In the case of all those nasty architecture critics gleefully cheering as the Great Recession brings the Age of Starchitecture to an end, that's doubly true.
Were they to take a moment to consider what that would mean, they might hope for something else.
The problem has never been too much starchitecture, but too little.
If by starchitecture we mean buildings designed by the best architects in the world, not simply buildings designed by celebrity architects, there could never be enough.
But in the highly competitive, winner-take-all, schadenfreude-fuelled world of architecture, it's hardly surprising that there's a surfeit of resentful observers anxious to see greatness fail. The harder they come, the harder they fall.
"What was pernicious about the idea of `iconic' architecture," Rowan Moore wrote in the Evening Standard, "is its assumption that just by making a building look spectacular, you make it good."
Oh my goodness, what could be worse than spectacular architecture? The iconic, we are admonished, should not be confused with the good. Indeed not.
Another, more local critic huffed recently about the "outrageous" fees charged by architectural stars, and went on to celebrate the coming "minimalist economy."
Other than revealing a dismaying smallness of spirit, what message does this unseemly whining send to developers, planners, politicians and the rest of us?
If it's wrong to hire the best architects (too expensive, too spectacular), then it must be right to hire the mediocre (cheaper and less iconic). If it's bad to aspire to architecture with a capital A, then it must be good to settle for the strictly ordinary, the second-rate.
In a city such as Toronto, where architectural excellence cannot be taken for granted, the presence of Frank Gehry, Will Alsop, Norman Foster, Santiago Calatrava, Stephan Behnisch and, yes, even Daniel Libeskind, has raised the architectural stakes immeasurably.
This city also happens to be blessed with a number of first-rate local firms, but how many developers would have bothered to hire Peter Clewes, David Pontarini or Rudy Wallman to do their condos if design weren't suddenly so important to their bottom line?
You don't have to look far to see that what passed for architecture in Toronto even a decade ago leaves much to be desired. Developers' willingness to accept whatever the big corporate design firms produced went unquestioned. Now, we expect more.
Let's not forget, either, that although starchitecture is a term of derision for some, starchitects, like them or not, are called that because they are the finest in the business. It may have become a cliché for a city to want a Frank Gehry, but the Guggenheim Museum he designed in Bilbao changed more than that city, it changed the way we look at museums and their relationship to the urban context. And let there be no doubt about the power of the Bilbao Effect: 12 years after the museum opened, visitors are still pouring into that city, the Hamilton of Spain, to see Gehry's masterpiece, if not the art within.
And as for the argument that most architects struggle in the shadow of their more celebrated colleagues: So what else is new? In fact, the growing interest in architecture has opened up possibilities for the young and lesser known that never existed previously.
Consider the case of Absolute, the Mississauga condo dubbed Marilyn Monroe, which was designed by the Chinese outfit MAD, chosen after an international competition. Such an event would have been unthinkable, especially in Mississauga, only years ago.
That's why this sudden fear of the iconic rings hollow. Who complains about the Chrysler Building or the Empire State Building, those symbols of an earlier age of excess? Their meaning might have changed over the decades, but they remain as central to the history of New York – and architecture – as ever, not just because they qualify as icons, but because they are examples of architectural greatness.
This isn't to say every project need be an icon. The vast majority are "fabric buildings" – they serve a purpose, fill space and in their totality create the streetscape that defines the city. But no one should mistake fabric buildings for second-rate buildings.
In our rush to throw out the iconic we are in danger of chucking the brilliant. Not that we want to turn our cities into so many clones of Dubai, an example of what happens when architecture becomes little more than a race to out-icon the building next door. In this context, architecture becomes meaningless; it is reduced to little more than a frantic contest between architects trying desperately to outdo one another. If anything, Dubai could use a little starchitecture, though in its case, it might be too little too late.
When Toronto launched its so-called Cultural Renaissance five or six years ago, there was a predictable outcry against the inclusion of starchitects, even before they had designed anything. But keep in mind that Gehry, Libeskind and Alsop notwithstanding, commissions also went to Diamond & Schmitt (Four Seasons Performing Arts Centre) as well as KPMB (Royal Conservatory of Music, National Ballet School, Gardiner Museum of Ceramic Art and the Young Centre in the Distillery District).
In other words, local architects fared well in the process. All the more so for the presence of so many international heavy-hitters. And in the aftermath, Alsop has stayed on to design subway stations for the Toronto Transit Commission, as has Norman Foster.
Whether these projects will be iconic or not remains to be seen, but already one thing is clear: The world will be waiting and watching.
In defence of starchitecture
Some critics are happy to bid the boom and its bold buildings goodbye. They're being silly
Apr 18, 2009 04:30 AM
Be the first to comment on this article...
Christopher Hume
Urban Affairs Columnist
They say we should be careful what we wish for, and for good reason. In the case of all those nasty architecture critics gleefully cheering as the Great Recession brings the Age of Starchitecture to an end, that's doubly true.
Were they to take a moment to consider what that would mean, they might hope for something else.
The problem has never been too much starchitecture, but too little.
If by starchitecture we mean buildings designed by the best architects in the world, not simply buildings designed by celebrity architects, there could never be enough.
But in the highly competitive, winner-take-all, schadenfreude-fuelled world of architecture, it's hardly surprising that there's a surfeit of resentful observers anxious to see greatness fail. The harder they come, the harder they fall.
"What was pernicious about the idea of `iconic' architecture," Rowan Moore wrote in the Evening Standard, "is its assumption that just by making a building look spectacular, you make it good."
Oh my goodness, what could be worse than spectacular architecture? The iconic, we are admonished, should not be confused with the good. Indeed not.
Another, more local critic huffed recently about the "outrageous" fees charged by architectural stars, and went on to celebrate the coming "minimalist economy."
Other than revealing a dismaying smallness of spirit, what message does this unseemly whining send to developers, planners, politicians and the rest of us?
If it's wrong to hire the best architects (too expensive, too spectacular), then it must be right to hire the mediocre (cheaper and less iconic). If it's bad to aspire to architecture with a capital A, then it must be good to settle for the strictly ordinary, the second-rate.
In a city such as Toronto, where architectural excellence cannot be taken for granted, the presence of Frank Gehry, Will Alsop, Norman Foster, Santiago Calatrava, Stephan Behnisch and, yes, even Daniel Libeskind, has raised the architectural stakes immeasurably.
This city also happens to be blessed with a number of first-rate local firms, but how many developers would have bothered to hire Peter Clewes, David Pontarini or Rudy Wallman to do their condos if design weren't suddenly so important to their bottom line?
You don't have to look far to see that what passed for architecture in Toronto even a decade ago leaves much to be desired. Developers' willingness to accept whatever the big corporate design firms produced went unquestioned. Now, we expect more.
Let's not forget, either, that although starchitecture is a term of derision for some, starchitects, like them or not, are called that because they are the finest in the business. It may have become a cliché for a city to want a Frank Gehry, but the Guggenheim Museum he designed in Bilbao changed more than that city, it changed the way we look at museums and their relationship to the urban context. And let there be no doubt about the power of the Bilbao Effect: 12 years after the museum opened, visitors are still pouring into that city, the Hamilton of Spain, to see Gehry's masterpiece, if not the art within.
And as for the argument that most architects struggle in the shadow of their more celebrated colleagues: So what else is new? In fact, the growing interest in architecture has opened up possibilities for the young and lesser known that never existed previously.
Consider the case of Absolute, the Mississauga condo dubbed Marilyn Monroe, which was designed by the Chinese outfit MAD, chosen after an international competition. Such an event would have been unthinkable, especially in Mississauga, only years ago.
That's why this sudden fear of the iconic rings hollow. Who complains about the Chrysler Building or the Empire State Building, those symbols of an earlier age of excess? Their meaning might have changed over the decades, but they remain as central to the history of New York – and architecture – as ever, not just because they qualify as icons, but because they are examples of architectural greatness.
This isn't to say every project need be an icon. The vast majority are "fabric buildings" – they serve a purpose, fill space and in their totality create the streetscape that defines the city. But no one should mistake fabric buildings for second-rate buildings.
In our rush to throw out the iconic we are in danger of chucking the brilliant. Not that we want to turn our cities into so many clones of Dubai, an example of what happens when architecture becomes little more than a race to out-icon the building next door. In this context, architecture becomes meaningless; it is reduced to little more than a frantic contest between architects trying desperately to outdo one another. If anything, Dubai could use a little starchitecture, though in its case, it might be too little too late.
When Toronto launched its so-called Cultural Renaissance five or six years ago, there was a predictable outcry against the inclusion of starchitects, even before they had designed anything. But keep in mind that Gehry, Libeskind and Alsop notwithstanding, commissions also went to Diamond & Schmitt (Four Seasons Performing Arts Centre) as well as KPMB (Royal Conservatory of Music, National Ballet School, Gardiner Museum of Ceramic Art and the Young Centre in the Distillery District).
In other words, local architects fared well in the process. All the more so for the presence of so many international heavy-hitters. And in the aftermath, Alsop has stayed on to design subway stations for the Toronto Transit Commission, as has Norman Foster.
Whether these projects will be iconic or not remains to be seen, but already one thing is clear: The world will be waiting and watching.
