So, how can architects make juried competitions more viable and rewarding?
There are, of course, different types of competitions, with multiple variations, and hybrids within (or overlapping) the broader categories. While some solicit schemes with the explicit goal of building the winning design, others are purely "ideas competitions," seeking novel or visionary proposals to generate new thinking, with no intention (as should be stated up front) of realizing any of the schemes. The motivations behind calls for ideas vary, but some are held to boost public and political enthusiasm for controversial or contested work, as was successfully accomplished in 2003 for New York's future High Line park.
Where architects vie for actual commissions (though realization is not guaranteed), the form of competitions varies widely. Some are open calls, accessible to almost any architect; others are by invitation only, seeking proposals from a limited number of specific firms. And many demand pre-qualification. While some involve a single round of juried review, others are multiphased, beginning perhaps as an (anonymous or non-anonymous) open call and then -- once the pool is reduced to a short list -- proceeding similarly to an invited competition. (Usually, only invited or short-listed competitors receive any sort of honorarium to help defray the substantial costs of developing and presenting a scheme.)
While other countries have not been entirely immune to onerous submission requirements, much of Europe has differed historically from the U.S. regarding the role of design contests in everyday practice. There, a long-standing culture of competitions is more integral and ubiquitous, with the resulting commissions, in many cases, constituting a higher percentage of a firm's work. "Even for modest projects, like small neighborhood piazzas, there are competitions -- they're much more common and plentiful over there," says Maurice Cox, now an urban planning professor at Harvard, who practiced architecture for a decade in Italy. "Doing them becomes a way of life for architects." Similarly, in Switzerland, says Emanuel Christ, a founding partner of Christ & Gantenbein, whose competition wins have included major museum projects in Zurich, Basel, and Antwerp, "I know many architects, including ourselves, who built their practices right out of university through competitions. While we've seen changes, too, there are still many more opportunities here than in the U.S. for emerging talent to launch, develop, and sustain their careers this way." In countries such as France and Germany, this ingrained culture is also tied to the mandate for open, typically anonymous competitions (regulated by International Union of Architects guidelines) for most public commissions. That's how, in 1971, little-known architects Renzo Piano and Richard Rogers, then in their 30s, won the commission to build their revolutionary scheme for Paris's Centre Pompidou -- with a one-board submission for the overarching vision.
But, today, there's pressure in the U.S., and increasingly abroad, for competition entries to appear fully worked out, ostensibly minimizing unknowns or uncertainties for the client, so the vastly augmented deliverables may even include project-cost estimates and abundant technical details. "It's an illusion," says one consultant who has collaborated on many top competition teams. "These elaborate processes -- which demand a hell of a lot from architects for not a lot of money -- give the client the impression of rigor. But, later, many of those schemes fall apart because the research is so shallow."
Estimating costs at such an early stage can also be a slippery slope. For unethical clients holding competitions, it can be a way of driving down architectural fees. And, when outside estimators are brought in, competitors don't typically get to see the analysis, denying them a role in determining whether the third party got it right. Participants also tell of losing competitions, as they later learn, due to their own realistic estimates -- only to see the low-bidding winner (sometimes with an inferior scheme) eventually completing the project at costs as high, if not higher.
Meanwhile, some argue that excessive competition demands can squelch innovative thinking and nonconforming work. "The submissions that won us competitions, say, 15 years ago, based on the strength of the ideas but without the appearance of working out every detail," says Christ, "would probably not be enough to win today." Holl agrees, adding, "Twenty-six years ago, we broke the competition rules and took a creative leap for our [Bloch] building at the Nelson-Atkins, and we won -- but I doubt that could happen now."
And it's not just about juried competitions. "The ways of getting most kinds of architectural work have changed across the board," says Julie Eizenberg, a principal of Koning Eizenberg Architecture, in Santa Monica, California. "A lot more is expected up front, and that's even true of RFQs [Requests for Qualifications] or other routes that didn't used to require a scheme at the outset." Lawrence Scarpa, a principal of Brooks + Scarpa, based in Hawthorne, California, agrees: "If architects are suddenly expected -- as happens more and more -- to bring to an RFQ interview 10 drawings of a completely worked-out proposal, you can't show up with any less, or you won't even be in the running."
And, increasingly, architects have to demonstrate that they've already done multiple projects of the given building type to qualify to compete -- a catch-22 for designers trying to break into a new sector. While such screening might appear to reduce client risk, says Fabrizio Rossi Prodi, whose Florence, Italy, firm has won numerous competitions, "it's often someone who hasn't worked many times, or at all, with the specific typology who brings the most innovative ideas and freshest approach. Maybe it should be more about the scale and complexity of past projects, rather than the particular building type."
The call for prolific experience within a given typology might be one reason why competition short lists often seem predictable. Yes, some clients seek marquee names. But has this risk-averse approach become too conservative? "Definitely," says Scarpa. "That's why we've been doing competitions overseas, in parts of Asia, for example, where they tend to be more willing to take a chance." As for U.S. short lists, says Reed Kroloff, a cofounder of joneskroloff (now cramerkroloff), which ran many juried competitions before focusing on other approaches to architect selection: "Often the so-called 'usual suspects' -- such as Weiss/Manfredi, Studio Gang, and Annabelle Selldorf -- happen to be outstanding talents, well qualified to take on the project. But, at the same time, we've also made a point of bringing unexpected players into the mix." Another factor is that not every practice is willing, or willing every time, to do competitions. "Firms frequently turn down invitations for any number of reasons," says Kroloff. "Maybe they're too busy, or not interested in the particular project, or have issues with the client, or something else." Malcolm Reading, whose London-based company, Malcolm Reading Consultants (MRC) has led many high-profile international competitions, likens putting together an invitee or short list to "selecting guests for a dinner party -- we try for diversity, and sometimes a client is keen on focusing specifically on fresh or emerging talent." Even when short lists are (mostly) unsurprising, the best-known figures don't always win, as in 2023, when Madrid-based Nieto Sobejano Arquitectos won the MRC-organized competition for the Dallas Museum of Art.
But there are still so many ways for competitions to turn thorny, as when clients are just trolling for low-cost publicity or ideas, with no plans to build (even though the contest isn't billed that way); or when clients know at the outset which architect they want; or when they are unlikely to ever raise adequate funds to realize the project. And even with good intentions, there can be curveballs. A change in institutional or political leadership can suddenly kill a project, or a competition can be carelessly organized, with terms shifting along the way. "It's tricky when the briefs are poorly written, making it unclear what they're asking for," says one architect, "and that might only become apparent once you're in deep." Or the site might become unexpectedly jeopardized, as happened after the Portland [Maine] Museum of Art (PMA) competition was won, in early 2023, by Portland, Oregon-based Lever Architecture. As it turned out, securing the site required declassification and then demolition of a historic building, which led to litigation that threatened the entire project. (Finally, this April, a court ruled in PMA's favor, putting the plans back on track -- but it doesn't always end that way.)
Yet another potentially complicating factor: competitions entries are often developed without much, if any, dialogue with the client, unlike typical architectural processes. While some architects miss that essential give and take, many also find it liberating to work virtually in a vacuum, as their own client, but the process might not sufficiently test their chemistry with the actual client. "As a result, especially when a third party, like a professional organizer, is an intermediary for the client," says one competition veteran, "it can end up like an arranged marriage."
Given all the taxing challenges, why are architects still doing competitions?
"We do them for the joy," says Christ. "They're fantastic fields for collaboration and exploration -- they give you freedom and autonomy to try out ideas in more radical ways." Thomas Phifer, whose New York firm, Thomas Phifer and Partners, has won competitions including the Museum of Modern Art in Warsaw, adds, "The exhilaration is different from the feeling you get with other projects. One could even argue that you do your best work when you're competing." This process also gives architects access to projects they might not have otherwise. And the sheer intensity of the effort can be valuable. "Competitions typically have the compressed time frame of a charette or school project," says Steven Dumez, a principal of the New Orleans-based firm EskewDumezRipple, which has won multiple competitions. "They're rifle shots, as compared with more drawn-out project schedules, and that intense opportunity to stretch your thinking can be incredibly energizing for a firm, carrying through to other work."
Certainly the creative urge to compete is not always about how many other projects a practice has. "Think of Zaha [Hadid]. She had tons of work," says Holl, "but she loved the challenge and stimulation of competitions and would just keep doing them. I feel the same way."
Even when firms don't win, competitions can still have potential benefits. Occasionally, a nonwinning entry becomes far more influential than the actual winner, as with Walter Gropius's and Adolf Loos's 1922 competition schemes for the Chicago Tribune Tower. Also, says Dumez, "sometimes we get to revisit, in later projects, ideas we first explored in competition." And connections and collaborations established in the process, including becoming known by the client, "still belong to you and can sometimes lead to future work, as can your competition design," points out architect Wendy Evans Joseph, whose New York firm, Studio Joseph, has competed as both consultants and lead designers. She tells of taking a nonwinning competition entry, successfully submitting it for top awards, and then, using that multi-award-winning scheme to pursue other projects. "In some instances," says Scarpa, "a strong competition scheme in our portfolio has even gotten us around the catch-22 and enabled us to break into a new sector." But the view of competitions as marketing tools that architects need to invest in, anyway, to get work, goes only so far. As Reading cautions, "I would not advise doing competition after competition for the sake of marketing. That's probably not a good business strategy."
So, how do architects pull off competitions without draining their firms' financial and staff resources? One answer, suggests Dumez: "We curb our appetite and only do one every year or two. It's key to balance competitions with other work in the office. And, if you win enough, and those projects get built, they help pay for the times you don't win." Perhaps the bottom line is, as Lever principal Thomas Robinson puts it, "Almost every way of getting commissions involves investment and calculated risk. So, whether it's through juried competition or not, we always need to weigh the costs against the potential gains, and research that thoroughly up front."
As for the controversial matter of compensation, "our profession should stand up for itself," says Scarpa. "We need to band together and not offer free or radically underpaid work." Another architect, who spoke on condition of anonymity, raises yet another consideration: "If the pie is only so big," he asks, "should competition organizers be getting a more generous or satisfying slice than the architects -- the ones doing the heaviest lifting?"
Maybe one of the ways to begin making competitions more viable for architects is to recapture older, simpler approaches. "Competitions have huge value, but there should be better alignment between compensation and what is required," suggests one longtime competitor. "I hope there's a return to earlier models, a move away from excessive demands and a return to more opportunities for emerging talent -- and more weight on the potential of great ideas."