Is the age of the starchitect at an end?

Everywhere I look across the profession I can see collective authorship celebrated. Practice websites routinely include all members of the team, building studies more regularly list large casts of supporting consultants, and awards photos are beginning to resemble formal wedding shots, as large cross-sections of the team are invited up to the stage.

The fiction that a single genius is responsible for a building is falling out of fashion. The firms once named for a single individual are quietly adding surnames or swapping to an alphabet soup of initials. Instinctively, I welcome this – it speaks to a kinder, more collaborative profession that is more comfortable with the reality of its craft.

However, does it also make us more anonymous? Starchitect culture, to my mind, exacerbated some of the more toxic traits in architecture – emphasising a need for sacrifice, long working hours, and ‘peacock’-like tendencies among a chosen few that promoted a particular image of the architect to the world beyond our profession.

It was not a positive portrayal, but it was memorable. It played to humanity’s yearning to believe in the eccentric genius; it deified the image of certain individuals. Zaha, for example, became the Brunelleschi of her time, and the public was reassured that architecture was creatively ‘safe’ in the hands of someone rather eccentric.

Humanity has long trained itself to deify key creative figures

The truer, more collaborative image we are better at celebrating today is considerably safer though – for architects and the public alike. Architecture is not sculpture, and the competing demands of the million-and-one aspects of building design, from fire regulations to eaves details, are not ‘safe’ in the hands of a single starchitect. They need the expertise and care of a vast team. However, the vast team is harder for the wider world to identify with – the marketing power significantly reduced. Our profession is suffering from a dilution of its role anyway; could this diluted image only serve to exacerbate the problem?

Starchitects offered a vision of the profession I think we all secretly want to believe in. We all want to believe that god-like individuals with remarkable creative and intellectual powers exist. They say ‘never meet your heroes’ – and ‘they’ are right. There’s nothing quite as disappointing as realising that, while gifted, your favourite architect, author, or media personality is disappointingly human, albeit with a greater-than-average skill for controlling a narrative.

I may be overstating the case and, for clarity, I have long abhorred starchitect culture and those who ape it. There is a weakness in a person who seems unwilling to share the credit or to recognise the contributions of others. Architecture is a team sport – but marketing it thus is difficult. Humanity has long trained itself to deify key creative figures, and to turn our back on this entirely may be too great a cost for a profession that does not feel entirely stable in its current incarnation.

Perhaps following the sport metaphor to its root may offer us a template. Most sports teams have their unifying kits and colours, but publicly celebrate key individuals. They offer a collective identity that people can participate in, and celebrate those who exemplify the values or skills they seek to promote. This is not without its dangers or pitfalls, but it may offer a more collaborative way to promote team culture across the built environment.

It is less glamorous though, due perhaps to the pervasive power of the cult of the individual. We all yearn for the glamour of a reality we know doesn’t exist – and selling reality just can’t compete. But since when was doing the right or the decent thing ever glamorous?