Funny, worrying, provocative – Reinier de Graaf’s book on architecture’s elephant in the room

Architect and OMA partner Reinier de Graaf wanted to take on the challenge of discussing the present and future of the architecture world ‘aggressively’, he says – and in his latest book, Architecture Against Architecture: A Manifesto, newly published by Verso, he certainly delivers. The publication is a captivating analysis of the industry, where de Graaf takes stock of the state of the architecture world.

He eloquently touches on some of the big themes in the industry, from the culture of 'starchitects' to AI, intellectual property, sustainability and power (and who is holding it). The result is a vibrant and refreshingly direct read, touching on real-life examples and the architect's direct experiences, which will no doubt make the reader think – whether they are an architect or not.

Explore ‘Architecture Against Architecture’ by Reinier de Graaf

Architecture Against Architecture is divided into two sections (of seven main points and respective chapters, each), the first part addressing architects themselves, and the other, architecture as a whole. It is a provocative read in that, in some ways, it addresses parts of the industry that, especially if you work within it, you might already have witnessed or been called upon to respond to – such as architects' long hours and often non-corresponding pay; or the morality and challenges of whom an architecture practice should work with. However, as de Graaf puts it, what makes this book special is its edit, and the fact that all the different parts that make up the architecture world's current challenges are now confronted head-on, together, in the same place.

The result is introspective and highly critical – at times making you worry and at others, laugh out loud. De Graaf writes in his conclusion and call-to-action: ‘End the focus on figureheads; welcome labour unions; collectivise practice; retire at 67; abolish authorship; rely on AI for matters of taste; end the distinction between theory and practice; free architecture from the concept of art; connect with users, cut out the middlemen; stop building until the existing stock runs out; pardon all things built; plan for obsolescence; adapt to climate change, stop claiming to mitigate it; work not to have clients, have clients to work!’

Are these points self-evident or radical? And who is responsible for changing things? We spoke to de Graaf about the book, his love of writing, and the future of architecture.

Reinier de Graaf on the architecture industry, its challenges and future

Wallpaper*: Tell us about the book. What is it about?

Reinier de Graaf: The book is a set of recommendations. I call it a manifesto, but it's an introspection about the nature of our own profession. How architects' practices are organised, how architects organise themselves, that's the first part, and then the second part is about a set of preoccupations that I think architects ought to engage with more aggressively. I wrote the book because, in my opinion, our profession, which I love dearly, is in deep trouble, and if we don't really confront it, I think it's very, very likely that in ten years' time the profession of the architect will not exist anymore. Maybe there will be people who call themselves architects, but the profession with a kind of solid professional base with a certain level of agency in a complex world will not exist, and I find that deeply worrying. What the book is not is a kind of cynical dismissal of my own profession. Quite the contrary.

W*: I enjoyed the directness of it, and I liked that it is really rooted in experiences. I know it’s not your first book. Are your past books similar in style?

RdG: In a way, this book is a reaction to the reactions of my previous books. My books are never about works of architecture. They're about the work of an architect. In my books, I write observations from the field. I analyse the way things are. What people said about my previous books is that ‘they are a good analysis, but you tell us how things are, but you do not tell us what to do about it’. I decided to pick up that challenge just for the hell of it, and it took the form of a manifesto. My first book was a collection of essays, my second was a novel, and my third book was a dictionary.

W*: Were you always attracted to writing?

RdG: Yes, even before I studied architecture. And then, of course, I wrote a lot of texts for competition entries when I started working at OMA, but you don't write those under your own name. I started writing columns for outlets whenever something either irritated me immensely or when I was very enthusiastic about something, and that led to my first book proposition.

W*: And how did Architecture Against Architecture come about?

RdG: This book's initial title was 'Elephants in the Room'. I thought it would be nice to start writing chapters and essays about everything we, as architects, all know is the case, but that we prefer not to talk about – what we prefer to keep at arm's length because it's deeply troubling. And what if all the 'elephants' are marching in the same direction? Then the title changed to 'The Writing on the Wall', which [referred to] everything we should be worried about but never talked about, and then the idea of a manifesto came. I said, what if I embrace everything that is brewing?

The Communist Manifesto in the 19th century provided a theoretical framework for miscellaneous forms of anarchy and discontent, which were already there – in a way, providing a container for everything. This is what I had hoped to do with the book. It makes me uncomfortable at times because, in terms of some of the recommendations in the book, in my present position, I stand little to gain if all of these were carried through. However, that doesn't mean I think they're not valid. You know, I'm always quite surprised that architects always talk about modernisation. They always see themselves as modern architects. They celebrate modern movements. But our own profession is remarkably unmodern. I thought it would be interesting to write a book about it, as a kind of exposure therapy, confronting all the things you want to suppress.

W*: Your manifesto, with all its chapters, is almost like a checklist of things that need fixing, or at least considering. Does this make sense?

RdG: That's exactly it. It is a checklist, with the exception of architecture criticism, because that was a chapter I left out. But it is relatively complete in my view.

W*: You are also a practising architect, and you're part of a bigger studio. Was it difficult addressing some of the elements in the book about how architects work?

RdG: The wonderful thing about writing is that when you are in the thick of things, you don't think about any of this. I write under my personal title. Yes, I'm a partner in a very big office, and that office is a big part of the world of architecture. So if I'm critical of the world of architecture, that inevitably means that it includes my office; it would be very hypocritical if it didn't. But I refuse to be completely defined by the office, just as the office refuses to be defined by me. There are the independent dynamics of the writing.

W*: Did you have an ideal reader in mind? Would that be an architect? Do you see this book read by non-architects?

RdG: The book has a dedication in the beginning. It says 'for my colleagues', and I guess that's the most immediate group I am addressing. I use architecture as a lens because architecture is so much at the forefront of globalisation. It deals with so much dirty business, and I always have the idea that architecture is a perfect lens to talk about the world. So I always hope the world will be my readership, only to find out that whenever I have a launch, it's all architects who will find the book! It would be nice if these books could play a role in bringing architecture a little bit back into the mainstream.

W*: What chapter was the most fun to write?

RdG: It was the chapter about AI.

W*: And were there any chapters that challenged you?

RdG: I started the book by writing the last chapter [which discusses power and morality], and in the end, I revisited it [and wrote it last]. I found it a particularly challenging one, because it took me about a year to write the book in total, and no matter how fast you write, it is almost impossible to keep up with the speed of reality. I talk about the fact that there are no more good and bad countries. So if there is no morality to be found in where we work, for whom we work, there is only morality to be found in what we do when we find ourselves working where we work for whom we end up working. But that's not easy to write because there are nuances.

The other chapter that I found challenging is the one before that, called Forget Sustainability. It is about the fact that climate change is inevitable. At every climate conference, there is an admission that the goals of the previous conferences haven't been met, and we are heading towards [climate change]. So the real avant-garde of architecture may not be rooted in the vain hope that we might be able to mitigate or prevent climate change, but in the prototypes we might develop to coexist with climate change in a pretty extreme form. What is architecture in the age of the Anthropocene, when everything we find, even nature, is the result of man's actions? Those are not easy subjects; that is hunting big time. I do not rule out that the next book I might want to write might be simply an elaboration of those last two chapters.

W*: Do you see the thesis of the book as radical?

RdG: People ask me: What is the radical proposition you make here? I don't make a radical proposition, but common sense and the checklist of the obvious are being perceived as radical. I find that is indicative, and that's probably the essence of the book. It is a plea for normal conditions in an environment that somehow magically refuses normal conditions against its own better judgment and against its own best interest. That's the message of the book.

If only we bothered to muster up the basic level of solidarity that other professionals have, which actually makes them very strong. So I think the call is first to architects to come together –corny and cheesy as that sounds – to realise that solidarity is actually a means to power, that the will to power and solidarity are flip sides of the same coin. And then once they do, I think the world may hear us. That may be the first step [towards] entering into the mainstream, and then the principles of the book might inform others and other domains, too.

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