The architecture of the social sphere is very important in general and for the modern situation in particular. The fact that it is now shown at the main architectural exhibition - the Venice Biennale - is also very valuable. Among the exhibits of the curatorial exposition and national pavilions there are many excellent projects that demonstrate the importance and relevance of the profession, the talent and ingenuity of their authors. However, what the general public and even the architectural community understands as "humanitarian action" is not always as unequivocally positive as one would like. This text is devoted to the described problem.
2016 was supposed to be a year of celebration for "socially responsible" architects: a prominent representative of this cohort, Alejandro Aravena, received the Pritzker Prize and acted as the curator of the Venice Biennale, that is, he came to the pinnacle of professional recognition at the tender age of 49. If his "Pritzker", with all the reservations (for more details, see my publication on Archi.ru about this award), one can rejoice, then the current Biennale (it will end at the end of November) turned out to be far from being as triumphant as expected.
And here we mean not only the formal shortcomings of the exhibition, which, however, are enough. This is the excessive size of the curatorial exposition (a total of about 120 participants, whom it is almost impossible to grasp in thought or physically examine), and the predominance of Latin American bureaus, and its heterogeneity: along with interesting and at the same time little-known masters who can present a number of of the completed works, a lot of banal, repeating each other and far from being realized (not designed for it?) projects were shown. Most striking was the participation of architectural "stars" such as Tadao Ando and Renzo Piano. The first presented an unrealized project of two pillars for Venice, and the second, in addition to advertising his activities as a senator of the Italian Republic, showed his Moscow project of the Center for Contemporary Culture of the V-A-C Foundation as an example of "sociality". I was also surprised by the project of the Transsolar bureau - an attractive work with imitation of sunlight (since there is no real one in the halls of the Arsenal): supposedly reflections on the attainability of beauty in simple, inexpensive ways, but in fact - the development of a project for the Louvre branch in Abu Dhabi - extremely far from any humanitarianism.
Defenders of Aravena argue that the Biennials of Betsky (2008), Sejima (2010) and Chipperfield (2012) were not too homogeneous and full of curator's friends, but, although they still turned out to be much more compact than the 2016 exhibition, the problem lies in the original ambition, not the result. Alejandro Aravena, during his appointment as curator, said that he would conduct a "report from the front", show the heroes of "social" architecture from all over the world, successfully solving the global problems of mankind - and therefore they expected a revelation from him. When the revelation failed, the community was expected to be disappointed, which manifested itself at times in very venomous criticism, such as the article by Tom Wilkinson in the Architectural Review.
Broken promises are often annoying, but in this case, the problem goes deeper. “Sociality” and activism have been trying to take the empty place of the dominant architectural ideology for more than ten years. Not everyone likes the complete freedom of opinion that has lasted since the early 1990s: some want to set their own reference scale (like Patrick Schumacher with parametrism), others just want to live in an understandable world where quality criteria are clear. This is connected with the dilemma of modern architectural criticism: if it is not clear how to evaluate a particular project, can it exist, is it needed at all? But even admitting the existence of this problem, it is hardly worth trying to solve it in a hurry - with the help of the same "social" architecture: "… social significance is also a dubious criterion: from this point of view," House over the Waterfall "will always lose to any chicken coop on the" city farm ". However, not everyone agrees that humanitarian projects are not the best a priori. The same Aravena, when he was appointed curator of the Biennale, spoke only about the "usefulness" of the architect's work, but about the "beauty", content, idea, form - including the qualities important for any person - he recalled closer to the opening day, inviting the participation of Alexander Brodsky, brothers Ayresh-Mateush and others.
Such one-sidedness of humanitarian projects as an ideology seemed to be compensated by the immanent "virtue" of both themselves and their authors. Already in the 2000s, it became customary to criticize in every possible way "stars" such as Koolhaas, Gehry, Hadid, opposing them to comprehensively positive characters like Cameron Sinclair, founder of the Architecture for Humanity charity. Indulgence for good intentions was also received by more complex figures, for example, Shigeru Ban: on the one hand, he became famous for his really valuable invention - prefabricated housing made of cardboard tubes for refugees and victims of disasters, on the other hand, he monetized this invention, using it for commercial buildings such as the pavilion Camper. Of course, no one forbids him to make money with his work, especially since he often engages in humanitarian projects at his own expense, but the very fact that these pipes became famous in the context of alleviating human suffering, and are now bought by commercial firms and other customers as a sign of involvement these customers to the "fashionable" architecture is very confusing. It’s as if a researcher created a fabric to help heal severe burns and then sell it to fashion designers to make dresses for tens of thousands of dollars.
The path of activist architects to Olympus ended with the award of the Pritzker Prize to the same Ban in 2014. Then it caused some bewilderment: the jury's explanatory text emphasized his humanitarian achievements, as if architecture - for whose works they are awarded this prize - is exhausted by charity. In 2016, when Aravena became a laureate, judges became more cautious and emphasized his architectural achievements outside the social sphere. However, not all of this tendency - charitable architecture equals good (that is, in all senses of quality) architecture - seemed strange. International media, both professional and general, became interested in architects working in Third World countries at about the same time that activism of any type became fashionable, at the turn of the 1990s - 2000s. Since then, printed publications and web pages have been flooded with spectacular photos of schools, women's centers, hospitals, built taking into account the peculiarities of the climate, building traditions and the capabilities of the local population, as well as with the help of the latest technologies of the First World. If Rem Koolhaas was afraid in the early 2000s to show his projects for Lagos so as not to be accused of neo-colonial manners, then the heroic activists are not at all shy about this and are happy to use the favored autochthons as extras in the photos of their buildings. And no one will criticize them: they are not self-centered and greedy "stars" whom journalists are happy to reproach for every wrong gesture, on the contrary: their whole life is laid on the altar of the common good.
At the same time, the previous generations of architects who worked in Asia and Africa, who were also attentive to the context and cared about the social sphere, were completely forgotten - partly because of their controversial customers, the colonial authorities, and partly, apparently, because of the disinclination to self-promotion (for example, Fabrizio Carola). The only institution interested in such projects before the media boom was the Aga Khan Foundation, but now the idea of working for the afflicted has attracted a wider audience, including architecture students. According to Farshid Mussavi, the choice of a “problematic” place for the often paper project became an attempt for many novice professionals to gain quick popularity, to go the easy way: if they are so concerned about the welfare of mankind, the tasks to be solved can be found in their native European or American city, she said. Of course, one cannot generalize: not all young people turn to the social sphere and to work in the “global South” for the sake of glory, and large bureaus often carry out such projects in addition to their main work and do not advertise them too much (for example, the workshop of John McAslan). But the fact remains: the key figures of "humanitarian" architecture have become no less famous and recognizable than the criticized "stars", and their projects are endlessly replicated in the media.
Photogenic buildings in Africa and Asia are published and published, but rarely provide an analysis of their effectiveness - even if the construction was completed several years ago: it is not easy for the correspondent to get to the scene. This fact is the basis of a bright history of "exposure", directly related to the Biennale. On the day of its opening, the Silver Lion, the prestigious Emerging Architect award, went to Kunle Adeyemi, a long-time Nigerian with OMA and based in Amsterdam and Lagos. His most famous building is a floating school in the coastal Makoko slum in Lagos. It was completed in 2013, brought worldwide fame to its creator, presented as a full-size copy at the current Venice Biennale - and destroyed by a heavy downpour in early June, that is, a couple of weeks after the Adeyemi award. And only then it became clear that already some time ago it had ceased to be used for its intended purpose, since the school management and the parents of the students were not sure of its safety: there were signs of deterioration and destruction, and, in the end, its supporting structure could not withstand. After that, it is easy to ask the question: how effective are the other "symbols" of social architecture, are they suitable for their users, or did they collapse long ago in the jungles of Thailand or in the savannahs of Burkina Faso, remaining only in the photographs of Ivan Baan?
But this story did not become the only blow to the bright image of humanitarian architecture and its activists. On July 10, a $ 3 million lawsuit was filed in a San Francisco court against Architecture for Humanity and its founders Cameron Sinclair and Keith Store for misuse of funds. Created in 1999, the organization, the largest and most famous of its kind, was engaged in the design and construction of infrastructure facilities in disadvantaged areas of the planet, as well as recovery after earthquakes in Haiti, Japan, etc. AFH filed for bankruptcy in 2015, which has already caused confusion, but the lawsuit puts it in a completely unfavorable light. As it turned out, 170 benefactors, including Nike, New York City Administration, Delft University of Technology, Brad Pitt's Make It Right Foundation, etc. transferred funds to AFH for specified uses (that is, for projects), while the organization's management spent them on salaries for themselves and employees, for representation purposes, and the purchase of a building for the headquarters.
In general, there is nothing surprising and excessively criminal: NPOs also need money for operating expenses, it is difficult to implement projects without associated costs, sloppiness in financial matters is often inherent in creative people. But this came as a complete surprise to a significant part of the architectural community, which, until then, apparently believed that stories "about money" were only about millionaires like Lord Foster and Rogers (where are they in the list of the richest Britons, for example), and activists feed on air, and so do all their employees. Hypocrisy and superficiality were also manifested in the fact that Aravena, Sinclair and the rest of the community and the media were ready to praise for everything, while the charity of those who “stained themselves” with financial success was often ignored. For example, Norman Foster's initiative to raise the minimum wage in his bureau from a nationwide 6.5 pounds to 9.15 pounds per hour in response to a similar appeal by the London authorities to all entrepreneurs in the British capital has been published in few places, although Foster, at least, spends funds. earned by his own firm.
Of course, this one-sidedness has contributed to the creation of completely false - and very naive - ideas about architectural activism. This is evidenced by an article by the well-known expert on "green" design Lance Hawsey: responding to the lawsuit against AFH, he expresses a banal thing - that the "stars" of arch-activism are people, not angels. They are no more pleasant to talk to than ordinary arch-"stars", they have vividly manifested narcissism and egocentrism, they are rude and capable of meanness. He also criticizes the pride of the current "socially responsible" architects: they tackle the main problems of humanity, associated, in their opinion, with the lack of shelter, while in the UN Millennium Development Goals the main problem is called absolute poverty and hunger, and the topic of shelter was not even included in these eight theses …
In conclusion, I want to reiterate that all the problems described do not in any way discredit the social responsibility of the architect as a concept and achievements in this area, which many wonderful specialists, including those of an activist type, are justly proud of. These problems are largely related to mass culture and its pursuit of interesting pictures, as well as the natural human unwillingness to think about difficult, unhappy things. It is much more convenient to imagine that wonderful architects-activists with their pretty projects will gradually - even if not during our lifetime - but still turn the poorest regions of the world into prosperous ones, and everything will be fine for everyone. But in the modern situation, the truth is much more useful: that everything that the architects have done so far in the "global South" is a drop in the ocean, but attempts should be continued: it is there that ideas may appear that in the future will allow the entire population of the Earth to survive in conditions of constant climatic conditions. cataclysms and increasingly limited resources.
