Should architecture endeavor to be iconic? Now more than ever cities are searching for an iconic structure, be it a bridge (e.g. Santiago Calatrava's Jerusalem Chords Bridge), a skyscraper (e.g. Renzo Piano's London Shard), or a museum (e.g. Sanaa's New Musuem), to represent itself to the world. How and why did this trend begin and, most importantly, how might it evolve? I looked at two books, as well as the New Museum's iconic 2007 building in the Bowery, for some answers.
As Sofia Borges says at the beginning of The Sky's the Limit: Applying Radical Architecture (Ed. Klanten, Robert, Sven Ehmann, and Sofia Borges. Berlin: Gestaltin, 2012. P.3), "cities need icons. Icons instill within us a sense of place and collective identity, helping personalize and humanize our built landscape...." Businesses and governments have always sought unique designs to represent their identity but ever since 1997 cities have also jumped on the architecture bandwagon. "The remarkable success of Frank Gehry's Bilbao museum and its corresponding "Bilbao effect" that rocketed an unknown Spanish port town into the global spotlight" greatly elevated the desire for iconic architecture such that "the creation of city identities through architecture became not only a reflection of the cultural value of a given place, but also a strategic marketing tool."
Iconic architecture is indeed often financed with the goal of raising property prices. Anthropologist David Harvey, in his recent Rebel Cities (London: Verso, 2012) argues that cities are integral to capitalist processes of surplus creation. He notes how cities have historically been the object of investment and speculation on a massive scale - and how such investments frequently benefit the city's wealthier residents (Harvey, 10 - 16). Harvey conducts a fascinating analysis that touches upon themes such as monopoly, scarcity, culture, language, authenticity, and profit. One particular term, what he calls "monopoly rent," is particularly important when it comes to iconic architecture and its relation to the urban fabric.
Monopoly rent is different from conventional rent. In both cases an owner benefits from the value of a commodity he/she exploits. The "monopoly" aspect enters into the equation when the commodity possesses qualities that are to some degree unique and/or irreplaceable (Harvey, 90). This kind of monopoly can take many forms such as a vineyard that produces a superb wine or a city block with a central location. However, that unique value can be cultural, such as the the rich history and identity of a neighborhood. Harvey observes that monopoly rent has a curious intrinsic contradiction: "the more easily marketable such items become, the less unique and special they appear." (Harvey, 92). In other words, the facility with which one generates revenue from a monopoly rent commodity reduces its perceived scarcity/uniqueness and consequently reduces its value.
Here's where architecture becomes important. Harvey refers to the Bilbao effect in terms of city's "branding" and "collective symbolic capital" (Harvey, 104). An iconic building that carries cultural value links the space around it to its uniqueness and scarcity (and value). Moreover, I would argue that while a new development of condominiums makes a neighborhood look like its selling out, an artful design gives the impression that a neighborhood is cultured and aspiring to greater things. I think an iconic building can become a thoughtful symbol for the changes in a developing urban space; it can lend identity to a built environment that's being excised of its older structures and residents. It's this new identity that will generate monopoly rent without being perceived as improved marketability.
What's also interesting to me is that the success of the museum in Bilbao is in some part due to the stunningly beautiful contrast between Gehry's museum and the surrounding town (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiftUeshugKcB1mmEuPUM7ajOTwwm6iyGj5js_ALQXu9EhOGrMj1EDYfQm5VIPo0RY266Tee333-V4xTMA3qPVfMS6IGJ-QSKi8TIKk8BFXdcXILUe2fqmCCxHyUcpG5AMordTq8fH-0w/s1600/DSCF2361.jpg, credit to Mark Whitfield). Such framing and contrast is no new trick; neoclassical and beaux-art designers knew how to magnify the importance of buildings by putting them at the end of a vanishing point in space. One need look no further than the Arch in Washington Square Park or the Helmsley Building on one side of Park Avenue and Grand Central Station on the other.
Where these three threads intertwine, of iconic architecture, monopoly rent, and perspective is at the New Museum in the Bowery. It's an iconic structure in a gentrifying area. Designed by the firm Sanaa, the building itself is composed of several stacked blocks enveloped in a steel mesh skin. The museum sits on Lafayette slightly off center from the terminus of Prince St. Its height, combined with its slight dislocation, allows the building to gradually and dramatically reveal itself as one approaches it. It's more than an iconic perspective; it's an almost cinematic process of viewing as you stop at each street, wait for traffic to stop, and then continue your journey to the ever-growing tower.
The New Museum 5
As Sofia Borges says at the beginning of The Sky's the Limit: Applying Radical Architecture (Ed. Klanten, Robert, Sven Ehmann, and Sofia Borges. Berlin: Gestaltin, 2012. P.3), "cities need icons. Icons instill within us a sense of place and collective identity, helping personalize and humanize our built landscape...." Businesses and governments have always sought unique designs to represent their identity but ever since 1997 cities have also jumped on the architecture bandwagon. "The remarkable success of Frank Gehry's Bilbao museum and its corresponding "Bilbao effect" that rocketed an unknown Spanish port town into the global spotlight" greatly elevated the desire for iconic architecture such that "the creation of city identities through architecture became not only a reflection of the cultural value of a given place, but also a strategic marketing tool."
Iconic architecture is indeed often financed with the goal of raising property prices. Anthropologist David Harvey, in his recent Rebel Cities (London: Verso, 2012) argues that cities are integral to capitalist processes of surplus creation. He notes how cities have historically been the object of investment and speculation on a massive scale - and how such investments frequently benefit the city's wealthier residents (Harvey, 10 - 16). Harvey conducts a fascinating analysis that touches upon themes such as monopoly, scarcity, culture, language, authenticity, and profit. One particular term, what he calls "monopoly rent," is particularly important when it comes to iconic architecture and its relation to the urban fabric.
Monopoly rent is different from conventional rent. In both cases an owner benefits from the value of a commodity he/she exploits. The "monopoly" aspect enters into the equation when the commodity possesses qualities that are to some degree unique and/or irreplaceable (Harvey, 90). This kind of monopoly can take many forms such as a vineyard that produces a superb wine or a city block with a central location. However, that unique value can be cultural, such as the the rich history and identity of a neighborhood. Harvey observes that monopoly rent has a curious intrinsic contradiction: "the more easily marketable such items become, the less unique and special they appear." (Harvey, 92). In other words, the facility with which one generates revenue from a monopoly rent commodity reduces its perceived scarcity/uniqueness and consequently reduces its value.
Here's where architecture becomes important. Harvey refers to the Bilbao effect in terms of city's "branding" and "collective symbolic capital" (Harvey, 104). An iconic building that carries cultural value links the space around it to its uniqueness and scarcity (and value). Moreover, I would argue that while a new development of condominiums makes a neighborhood look like its selling out, an artful design gives the impression that a neighborhood is cultured and aspiring to greater things. I think an iconic building can become a thoughtful symbol for the changes in a developing urban space; it can lend identity to a built environment that's being excised of its older structures and residents. It's this new identity that will generate monopoly rent without being perceived as improved marketability.
What's also interesting to me is that the success of the museum in Bilbao is in some part due to the stunningly beautiful contrast between Gehry's museum and the surrounding town (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiftUeshugKcB1mmEuPUM7ajOTwwm6iyGj5js_ALQXu9EhOGrMj1EDYfQm5VIPo0RY266Tee333-V4xTMA3qPVfMS6IGJ-QSKi8TIKk8BFXdcXILUe2fqmCCxHyUcpG5AMordTq8fH-0w/s1600/DSCF2361.jpg, credit to Mark Whitfield). Such framing and contrast is no new trick; neoclassical and beaux-art designers knew how to magnify the importance of buildings by putting them at the end of a vanishing point in space. One need look no further than the Arch in Washington Square Park or the Helmsley Building on one side of Park Avenue and Grand Central Station on the other.
Where these three threads intertwine, of iconic architecture, monopoly rent, and perspective is at the New Museum in the Bowery. It's an iconic structure in a gentrifying area. Designed by the firm Sanaa, the building itself is composed of several stacked blocks enveloped in a steel mesh skin. The museum sits on Lafayette slightly off center from the terminus of Prince St. Its height, combined with its slight dislocation, allows the building to gradually and dramatically reveal itself as one approaches it. It's more than an iconic perspective; it's an almost cinematic process of viewing as you stop at each street, wait for traffic to stop, and then continue your journey to the ever-growing tower.
Helmsley Building on Park Ave.
The New Musuem 1
The New Museum 2
The New Museum 3
The New Musuem 4
