The Proliferation of Awards
During a recent review of the new ninth edition of the Almanac of Architecture & Design, we were astonished to note the extreme propagation of awards programs in the architecture profession. A number of these awards are quite old, but the volume increase in the last several decades is remarkable, to the point of alarm. And a critical examination of the lists of awards established by and conferred upon architects reveals some surprising trends and raises pressing questions.
According to the upcoming edition of the Almanac of Architecture & Design, which lists the “most prominent national and international award programs currently operating,” between 1848 and 1939, there were three established awards for architecture. Two of these were AIA and RIBA awards. The third was from the American Academy of Arts and Letters. All of these were prestigious, well-recognized awards. Between 1949 and 1959, the profession saw a rise in awards by a count of four, four awards established in the space of ten years, where previously three awards for a span of ninety-one years were deemed sufficient. Already, in the first decade of the new millennium, we have nearly twenty-five awards newly established atop the already numerous awards. And this doesn’t account for the myriad local or regional chapter, association, press, or manufacturer’s awards conferred every year.
Have we gone award crazy? One might think so.
Are we sure that so many awards are a positive thing? A select jury of peers or special interest groups often decides who earns them. Why should it matter so much? How significantly does this recognition affect architects’ motivation to strive for professional excellence? If there were no awards would architects be less inspired?
What Do We Honor?
What does it take to design and construct truly remarkable structures, buildings worthy not just of professional accolades, but of the constant admiration of the public and the profession? Based on our analysis of awards and trends, the most appreciated buildings, architects, or firms are not those that boast impressive lists of awards, but those that work and speak to something considerably more meaningful. The reinvigorated quest to determine which buildings are most appreciated by non-architects could be an indication that the age of awards is waning.
Buildings, most architects would agree, are a testament to the power of humanity, the physical manifestation of ideals, ideas, and a purpose-filled existence. Seeing a building in three-dimensions, in the city one calls home or abroad, should be recognition enough. Lately, however, it would seem that the profession is constructing as many awards as buildings. To what end, then, are architects working? Toward an ideal? Toward the immediate recognition of a professional award? Or are awards simply the only means by which a firm can differentiate itself from others?
Honors might be seen as a validation for the weeks, months, and years of hard—sometimes lonely—work, ceaseless persuasion, and challenging collaboration that architects put into their projects. Yet most architects have discovered that public recognition for their best effort is not inevitable. Even with hundreds of awards programs, most architecture—even very good architecture—does not receive official acclaim. In fact, architects too often reap pain from the very fields in which they have carefully planted hope.
So, after you have done your best and no awards are bestowed, what then?
The lists of the most admired structures in America say something entirely different from a list of awards. The buildings “most admired” by the public and the profession reflect some sense of contemporary fancy, but, more than that, they reflect the promise of man borne out in the built environment. During eras when awards were few, buildings of lasting prominence and meaning were constructed.
Awards, Advertising, and the Ethics of Promotion
Observers might also draw a correlation between professional codes of ethics, as established and maintained by the AIA, and the decades long propagation of awards programs. Rules of professional practice prohibiting the use of advertising to promote professional services held for decades and, while relaxed in 1918 to “discourage” rather than altogether condemn advertising, these prohibitions were not lifted until 1978. At least seven major awards were established between 1978 and 1979 alone. And, when we look closely at the definition of advertising in a contemporary sense, as we have with awards and honors, we see the “attraction of public attention or patronage.” What better way to attract attention than the conferring of awards? Whose attention would the architect and designer hope to attract, except those interested in architecture, those keen to have buildings developed, offices constructed, and cities established? Clearly the clients’ attention, not that of the general populous.
Interestingly, however, lists of “most admired” buildings include a vast majority of structures built well before the inauguration of most awards, during a time when advertising was “condemned as lowering the dignity of the profession.” The 1880s and the 1930s, above all, were eras in which buildings took center stage in the popular and professional American mind. Both were eras of popular unrest, financial crisis, and eminent need. Perhaps then architecture actually fulfilled the lofty purpose it purportedly maintains; perhaps architecture actually did elevate the human spirit and fill a cultural void left by corporate distrust, financial collapse, and social strife.
On the verge of the industrial revolution, the 1880s were particularly ripe for monumental architecture; hence structures like the Brooklyn Bridge and the Washington Monument, employing the unflagging ingenuity of man to create modern marvels.
The 1930s saw—without awards, self-aggrandizement, or professional accolade, and in iconic structures like the Empire State Building, the Waldorf Astoria Hotel and the Golden Gate Bridge—perhaps one of the most meaningful periods in the history of architecture. Depression-era architecture served to elevate us, allowing us to focus on something other than our troubles, often lifting us out of trouble by creating a need for labor and resources. Great architecture gave everyday life meaning, as well as supported economic development. This architecture was humanity’s testament to our endurance. Architecture created jobs, employed craftsmen, and gave everyone a renewed sense of focus. Architecture elevated us from the ashes of economic despair; architecture was sustaining.
Today architecture can do much the same, when liberated from the onus of awards. Focusing on the task at hand and focusing on sustainability in all its facets will result in the next great era of architecture and serve as our salvation in environmental despair. There are plenty of hands to do the work, and there is plenty of technology to accomplish great things, but the danger of an awards-myopia rather than a renaissance still remains.
Awards can become a false god. To trim your sails to catch the latest puff on an opinion poll is to be little more than another weather vane. Smart, successful firms seek opportunity over awards. Opportunity is what gets buildings built; awards simply build a portfolio, and a portfolio is scarcely a legacy. A neighborhood, a complex, a civic center or a concert hall, that is a legacy, something timeless that speaks to man’s ability to endure.
Rather than pats on the back and professional accolades, let architects build structures of meaning and relevance. It is time to move on.
An Ethical Compass
If there is one required resource for a truly successful architect, it would be this: a strong set of values, a deep inner sense of design ethics that provides the compass to steer forward with direction and with confidence. This is where extraordinary design for even the most modest building is possible. This is the ethic of possibility. And it comes from within. This compass is necessary to hold a true course in the face of the whims and cronyism of awards. The design compass is the difference when choosing between conflicting courses of action—when there is no professional jury around to judge your work and no honors award program to confirm the wisdom of your choices, your designs.
We track awards at DesignIntelligence. We list them all in the Almanac of Architecture & Design. But we know that it does not take professional recognition to know that you have made a difference. It should not take someone else’s applause, nor does it take the speeches, the ceremony, and the wonderful excitement with all the PowerPoint slides. Who should be the most demanding critic of your work? You. Real success, the kind that will not slip away once the applause has died down, is the difference our dreams make to the quality of our own lives.
Good design really is an ethic. This ethic need not be codified in a standard professional practice, but should be ingrained, an integral part of the professional. Architects should find it within themselves to strive for excellence each day and not to look for a jury of peers to give their designs meaning. Instead, the sounds that should ring most true as architects navigate the high and inevitable low points of the profession are the words that will count most—your inner voice saying: “I did my best, it works, and it will serve the future well— very well.”
Authors: Daniel Downey is Managing Editor of DesignIntelligence and frequent contributor to the discourse on excellence in the design professions. He maintains particular interests in true sustainability and earth stewardship as well as brand equity and development in professional services firms. James P. Cramer is the founder and Chairman of the Greenway Group, a private research, foresight, and consulting organization with clients worldwide. He is the editor of DesignIntelligence and the Almanac of Architecture & Design as well as co-chair of the Design Futures Council. He is the author of several books including How Firms Succeed: A Field Guide to Design Management and the new bestseller, The Next Architect: A New Twist on the Future of Design.
Opening collage by Ragina Johnson.
Originally published 3rd Quarter 2007, in arcCA 07.3, “Comparing Awards.”
