Mapping Controversies in Architecture

Albena Yaneva

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2016
• ISBN:
  9781317100928
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Architecture
• Subtopic: Architecture Criticism

The book tackles a number of challenging questions: How can we conceptualize architectural objects and practices without falling into the divides architecture/society, nature/culture, materiality/meaning? How can we prevent these abstractions from continuing to blind architectural theory? What is the alternative to critical architecture? Mapping controversies is a research method and teaching philosophy that allows divides to be crossed. It offers a new methodology for following debates surrounding contested urban knowledge. Engaging in explorations of on-going and recent controversies and re-visiting some well-known debates, the analysis foregrounds, traces and maps the changing sets of positions triggered by design: the 2012 Olympics stadium in London, the Welsh parliament in Cardiff, the Heathrow airport runway extension, the Sydney Opera House, the Eiffel Tower. By mobilizing digital technologies and new computational design techniques we are able to visualize the variety of factors that impinge on design and track actors' trajectories, changing groupings, concerns and modalities of action. The book places architecture at the intersection of the human and the nonhuman, the particular and the general. It allows its networks to be re-established and to run between local and global, social and technical. Mapping controversies can be extrapolated to a wide range of complex phenomena of hybrid nature.

PART I RETHINKING BIFURCATIONS

Chapter 1 The Impasse of Representation

DOI: 10.4324/9781315593807-3

BACK TO CARDIFF BAY

As you continue to explore Cardiff Bay, you catch sight of yet another striking building. This is the Senedd, the home of the National Assembly for Wales. You enjoy, just as I do, climbing the external slate stairs of this giant ‘ship’ (Figure 1.1). After getting through the security checks, you avidly explore the space. You take great delight, just as I do, from standing upon the public platform around the wooden ‘mushroom’ (Figure 1.2).

1.1 The Senedd; copyright – the author.

1.2 Interior of the Senedd; copyright – the author.

You spend some time looking down to the parliament chamber through the glass (Figure 1.3). You try out the fancy leather chairs and contemplate the scenery of Cardiff Bay. You are aware that the space is full of surveillance cameras and you wonder about the spatial challenges that this ‘mushroom’ must have posed. You remember a fame of controversies: this you recall well.

You know, just as I do, that Cardiff is the capital city of Wales. It received this designation in 1955 in formal recognition of Wales’ distinct national identity. You will probably remember that in 1997 the Welsh voted for a devolved Assembly to enact legislation for Wales. Designing a building for the new Welsh Government became an important political task. You can see the Senedd – the building of the National Assembly for Wales, which hosts ‘the democratically elected body that represents the interests of Wales and its people, makes laws for Wales and holds the Welsh Government to account’ (Welsh National Assembly 2011). Yet, you do not know the rest: how was it made and why this design and not another? You go over the Senedd story, just as I do, but at a much slower pace than before in order to fully recollect its unfolding.

1.3 The Senedd – public viewing platform; copyright – the author.

Excerpts from a Controversy Diary

Lord James Callaghan, former Labour Prime Minister and Cardiff MP, was quick to formulate his opinion to the press in 1998. Callaghan, who would become one of the lay judges on the panel assessing the design competition, thought that the National Assembly should be a ‘prestigious building’ of the highest quality (committee papers of the competition panel, held at the National Library of Wales, 1998). For him, its symbolic meaning is of key importance since the building will become ‘Wales’ first democratic building’. Angela Giddens, one of his fellow judges and a Cardiff-based designer, commented that: ‘Whoever the architect is there has got to be an overall understanding of Wales’ (Fanning 1998a). As you start following the Senedd story from these beginnings, just as I do, you find out that what both the MPs and the Welsh public were looking for is a ‘symbol of Wales’ and a powerful ‘distinctive building’. You find out that symbolism is the primary concern, and you expect that the panel are not bothered by mundane questions such as: ‘what shapes are to be used’ and ‘what material constraints can pop up’? How can the judging panel think of mundane techniques and working routines? Why worry about the trivial objects of creativity and construction virtuosity when a ‘timeless’ building for the National Assembly, ‘a building of the twenty-first century’ should emerge from the architect’s drawing board? What architectural techniques are to be invented in order to design ‘a representation of Wales, using Welsh materials and local art to reinforce its Welshness’? (Fanning 1998b). Only the great symbols of Welsh nationhood that the building can speak about were discussed.

Yet, along with the ambitious symbol-generating agenda set for the designers of the Senedd, the panel assessing the competition entries is also concerned with how the £11.5 million building will work and how the chosen design will affect its functional efficiency. Symbolism and functionality, you know it, just as I do, are the two irreconcilable objectives in the design literature. To learn about technicality and efficiency you go and search on one side of the library; the one I always see from a distance (I am trained as a sociologist!). To learn about symbolism, Welshness and politics you wander in the library space to find the other shelf, the one that I know so well, the shelf with humanities books.

The shortlist of design proposals is revealed in October 1998 and made available for public consultations. Richard Rogers Partnership (RRP) provides the winning scheme. Only one year later the first difficulties appear. These are both conceptual and financial. Questions are raised about the capital and running costs of housing the assembly at the waterfront in Cardiff Bay. Exploratory meetings are held between RRP and the Assembly Members. The design requirements continue to be modified. The size of the public gallery causes concern. RRP are asked to enlarge it in order to accommodate more visitors. Access to the building needs to be improved for people with disabilities. Richard Rogers is also asked to bear in mind the urge of the Assembly Members to use local materials and the work of Wales-based artists. The mundane construction concerns pile up. The symbols are forgotten.

While Rogers is developing his design scheme to respond to these growing concerns, there remains a significant opposition. The Welsh Assembly debates a motion to abandon the Rogers building and direct money towards the cost of a children’s hospital. The existing City Hall is frequently mentioned in the media as an alternative to an expensive new building in Cardiff Bay. The primary concern becomes the cost of the project. First Secretary of Wales, Alun Michael, assures his fellow Assembly Members that the cost of the new building will not exceed £12.5 million. Almost simultaneously, estimates produced by civil servants: ‘reveal that the cost would rise to at least £16 million and the overall capital cost to beyond £20 million’ (Fanning 1999). The ambitious symbol-making programme and search for an architecture that expresses the Welsh essence are all put on hold while budget and programme concerns proliferate. These now become the main concern in our controversy.

In 1999, Welsh Assembly officials hold discussions with a subsidiary company of the Associated British Ports (ABP) to enquire about the possibility of buying more land in Cardiff Bay. The present site is not considered big enough to contain the proposed RRP scheme. This need stems from the Assembly’s insistence for a larger public gallery and improved facilities. Yet, the politicians use it in their fights: ‘opposition politicians have roundly condemned what they describe as the “incompetence” of Labour administration in having to seek additional land at such late stage in the project’ (The Architects’ Journal 28 October 1999). At the same time, James Leeson from RRP intimates that: ‘we haven’t really moved on much from the original concept’ (ibid.). In June 2000, the Assembly agreed by 42 votes to 9 to press ahead with RRP’s design.

Yet, by July 2001, Rogers is accusing ministers of disguising the real costs. Edwina Hart, the Minister for Finance, Local Government and Communities, tells the Welsh Assembly that despite ‘assurances’ from RRP and the contractors, Turner and Townsend, she ‘very much regretted’ that it would not be possible to bring the building under the construction budget of £13.8 million or the overall capital budget of £25.6 million. It would be closer to £24 million and £40 million respectively. She states that Rogers had failed to provide any concrete evidence to support his claims (The Architects’ Journal 19 July 2001). Rogers angrily replies that his firm cannot be blamed for the rising costs that resulted from client decisions because the increasing estimates are a result of the extra requests that the client made.

As the disagreement between the architect and the politicians unfolds, other actors enter the story. The new president of the Royal Society of Architects in Wales (RSAW), Skip Belton, declares that: ‘We are incredibly concerned that this important building for Wales is completed.’ RSAW expressed anxiety over the damage that failure may have on Wales’ reputation for turning down world-class architecture. Referring to Zaha Hadid’s doomed opera house, the architectural community is concerned that the Senedd might meet the same fate. They endorse the proposed design saying that: ‘We have a strong feeling that the building as originally designed should be constructed’ (The Architects’ Journal 19 July 2001). RIBA president, Paul Hyett, and Jon Rouse, Chief Executive of CABE, are asked to intervene and voice their support for the RRP design.

This issue concerning the budget appears to be complex. It does not merely revolve around who is telling the truth. Attention is drawn to the specifics: who calculates the budget; how is it calculated; against what criteria is it assessed; and according to which programme? Rogers, yet again, explains that costs mount because of changing demands that RRP have willingly accommodated into the design. He contextualizes the projected £40 million cost by likening the scheme to ‘a big house’. Rogers says that: ‘If…the alarmist £40 million price tag is to be believed, this figure falls far short of many Millennium projects’ (The Architects’ Journal 26 July 2001).

Rogers maintains that this budget is not exceptionally expensive compared to similar projects because of the inherent logic according to which construction proceeds. For instance, the Scottish Parliament building was estimated at £55 million in 1998 and by November 2001 had risen to £240 million. It eventually came in at £414.4 million in February 2007. However, he remains puzzled as to the method of calculation that allowed politicians to reach a much more inflated figure. His practice is denied access to finance meetings and that is why he believes the process to be ‘completely impenetrable’. He criticizes the procurement system and the decision-making processes, as well as the ‘lines of communication as being too long and disjointed’ (ibid.). The local politicians are blamed for lacking political will to see a major project through to completion. The controversy results in a deadlock.

Actors, including academics such as Richard Weston from Cardiff University’s Welsh School of Architecture, enter the story to help RRP and the politicians find a cordial solution. Jon Rouse calls for an investigation by the National Audit Office saying that: ‘It’s clear we haven’t had the full story and the sooner we have an investigation the better for all of us. There are some serious accusations flying around and there is a need for an independent evaluation’ (The Architects’ Journal 26 July 2001).

This assessment is conducted in 2001 to which numerous building professionals are invited as experts. When the original £12 million rises to £27 million, RRP is dropped from the process amidst accusations of spiralling costs. The process is open to other tenders and RRP wins back the job after other teams in the running pulled out. Stride Treglown withdrew because of the excessive financial risk involved in undertaking a project that did not follow the principles of ‘Rethinking Construction’ (Rethinking Construction 2001) Thus, in February 2003, the consortium (composed of RRP, BDSP, Arup and the construction company Taylor Woodrow) is reappointed. The team’s spokesman said that the team was delighted with the reselection: ‘We were not worried that the previous problems would damage our chances of reappointment. The fact is we have a fantastically strong design team. The next few months will be about ensuring we have excellent communication with the assembly and its advisors’ (Blackler 2003).

The £27 million estimate that had loomed so large only 18 months previously was about to exceed £47 million by the time RRP was reappointed in 2003. A war between politics and architecture was now openly fought. This time it was not conducted publicly by building professionals in arbitration hearings. Instead, politicians communicated with architects through lawyers after the National Assembly for Wales instigated a £6.9 million negligence claim against RRP because of the spiralling price (Betts 2003). Despite the fact that an independent adjudication found in favour of RRP, who are awarded £448,000 in backdated fees, the Assembly continues to pursue Richard Rogers.

In June 2003, the budget reaches £55 million. First Minister, Rhodri Morgan, defends the increase on the grounds that the building will be larger and better (Building Design 27 June 2003). Politicians change their hostile position. For the first time during five years of controversies concerning the budget, design and technical features are discussed in the press. Reports describe the improved quality of the elevations facing the Wales Millennium Centre; a second bridge will link the Senedd to the administrative offices at Crickhowell House next door; the entrance will be improved so as to accommodate facilities for disabled people, the public spaces will be larger to include a café, a parent-and-child suite and extra public lifts.

Since building construction restarted in August 2003, costs continue to creep up. ‘Professional fees’ are undisclosed but include those paid to RRP for at least 30 contract variations. The amendments relate to detailed design work to accommodate an updated IT infrastructure and extra money to enhance security in the wake of 9/11. By 2004, Conservative Assembly Members are incensed to find out that the estimates reach £70m. Nick Bourne, leader of the Welsh Conservatives, gives a statement to Building Design saying that: ‘[We] have been proved right – the costs of the building would keep on rising at a time when there are countless other more worthy projects crying out for money’ (Betts 2004).

The relationships between RRP and the Welsh Government get even more complicated. John Shortridge makes a statement to the Welsh Assembly’s audit committee: ‘The original estimate submitted by RRP for the design competition was too low and that if the true cost had been known at the time, its entry would have been rejected from the competition as non-compliant’ (Betts 2003). Rogers writes to the Audit Committee to demand an apology. The contents of his letter, which are made public in April 2003, declare Shortridge’s claims to be ‘wholly unacceptable’ and ‘wholly inaccurate’. He insists that Shortridge ‘retract[s] the statement with an apology’. Shortridge refuses to apologize.

The controversy slows down and is forgotten. When the building opens its doors in 2006 the symbolic interpretations come back. The critics praise the Senedd as a ‘physical and symbolic embodiment of Welsh nationhood and modern democratic government’ (Slessor 2006).

Following the unfolding complexities of the Senedd controversy in its most intensive period 1998–2003, we see that it is not simply a fight between opposing political parties. Nor can we purely base it around the spiralling budget. Politics and money tangle in complex ways: often on building sites. Yet, reducing this controversy to a set of political differences or budgetary questions will not help us to understand the making of the Welsh Assembly. The logic of design progresses by deviations that are interlinked to the changing demands of clients or other factors that impinge on design. These detours relate to the shifting requests of the client: ‘we want a larger viewing pla...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Half-Title Page
• Dedication
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Table of Contents
• List of Figures
• Acknowledgements
• Prologue
• Introduction
• Part I Rethinking Bifurcations
• Part II Mapping Processes
• Conclusion: The Architectural as a Type of Connector
• References
• Index