466 submissions on the walls of the former Museum of Technology at Delft University of Technology

[View the winning projects here]

The design competition was expressly held as an ideas competition. The aim was to explore a number of important issues regarding the future faculty of architecture and, in the process, clarify the programme of requirements and choice of location. The two main themes were: first, new concepts, visions in other words, including a spatial proposal, for the future of architectural education, keeping in mind the good points about the old building and the current system of education and research; and second, the ‘dynamics of city and campus’, a vision of the position of the faculty of architecture, where is the new building located and how does it relate to the other faculties and the town of Delft and the Randstad? Minor themes taken on board in the assessment were economic feasibility (scarcely addressed by the entrants), sustainability (statements on it almost everywhere) and trends in education and research (generally not very surprising comments made on the subject).

Naturally, the competition was also an opportunity to give a much larger group of students and professionals than the handful of architects who will soon work on a design an opportunity to offer their views on the new Faculty of Architecture.  When one considers this much wider involvement, the competition can certainly be deemed a success: 466 approved submissions, 35% of them from student teams, 21% female, 322 submissions from abroad. A huge task for the jury to get through it all and, at the same time, a tall order for the reviewer to repeat the work of the jury. So any discussion about the results has to be based on the selection and assessment made by the jury.

What is immediately apparent when one looks at the final selection of eight projects is that, out of the huge number of options relating to the two main themes, the jury has expressed a clear preference for a limited number of possibilities. Why else not one but two proposals to reuse the Julianalaan building; not one but two proposals that stretch the new building across Mekelweg; not one but three-and-a-half submissions that spread the programme as a thick slice in a greenhouse/landscape typology on the old site? No other options are explored among the jury’s final selection, despite the huge diversity of submissions. To this jury, highrise is, apparently, not an option. The message is clearly that the new faculty building will be no more than three floors tall. That this indeed reflects the jury’s choice and is not representative of the breadth of submissions is borne out by an advance study of the submissions. This also reveals that the submissions can be divided into 13 different building typologies that vary from monoliths, atriums, sponges, basement-plus-highrise to wine-racks and so on. Out of these the jury selected no more than two or three. It’s possible that the proposals for all the other types were simply bad, but that’s not likely.

The explicit aversion to highrise options is strange and also somewhat angst-ridden. One can compare it with the reaction to 9/11 when for a while it was as if every tall building had to be designed in such a way that an airplane could fly into it. The jury also seems to have been terribly afraid of or allergic to big compact building masses, even though this would be a fine solution from a sustainable point of view and wholly in line with the prevailing conviction held by the design elite that a new building should certainly not be icon, or even be in danger of becoming an icon. You can almost imaging the jury saying it over coffee before they started: ‘Okay folks, no icons no matter what. And while we’re on the subject: no Superdutch.’

The jury’s explicit preference for a location other than that of the former faculty is also striking. The majority of the submissions stick, not unrealistically, to the old location. What’s more, the fact that the jury honours two proposals to reuse the current location of the faculty on Julianalaan is unremarkable given the prevailing sentiment since relocation, but you could hardly call this a surprising contribution to the shaping of new ideas. In that sense, foreign entrants were at a disadvantage, since they were oblivious to the successful relocation.

In terms of the location choice, the final eight proposals are representative of the three main options selected by all the entrants: the old site, Julianalaan, Mekelweg. In that sense the jury would seem to be open to discussion. But that’s where the representation – and the discussion? – ends. Certain building types are excluded from the winning selection of eight – they are, however, among the final 60 projects that made it to the final round of adjudication – but the jury also reveals a distinct preference for informality and for ideas dating from the 1970s. A typical ’70s architect like Frank van Klingeren would be perfectly content with the low-rise, sprawling greenhouses and patio plans among the winning designs. Perhaps the jury should have taken note of the fate of his Karregat neighbourhood centre.

The former members of the radical ’70s group Superstudio – who immediately ditched their monumental theoretical plans when they finally got round to building, and even converted to traditionalism (Natalini) or a form of Structuralism (House of the Four Winds by Frassinelli) – would raise their eyebrows if they heard that an explicit homage and/or pastiche like ‘A World Without Objects’ was awarded first prize. No doubt the jury sees this design solely as a provocative contribution to the discussion but, at the same time, they seem largely oblivious to its total impracticality. A 500-metre-long ‘street’, a 24-storey library – when the jury approves highrise, it certainly does it properly – in the jury’s words ‘highly convincing in terms of the spatial qualities and richness in use’? Oh come on! I’m a fervent admirer of Superstudio and I’ve no qualms whatsoever with honouring this homage, but the original Superstudio architects would be the first to say that we’re now in the 21st century and that their proposals were never intended to actually be built.

Yes, the 21st century, how is it proceeding? Which project could we call visionary in that regard? Visionary power was what the jury was looking for, was it not? Which plan dares to go boldly where no plan has gone before? What is the impact of increased mass communication, internationalisation and digitisation on architecture and architectural education? Are there other sustainable options, apart from living in a glasshouse? Perhaps there were answers to those questions, but they didn’t make the final eight. In that sense the beautifully presented village-on-a-hill project entitled ‘Learning and Creating’ is perhaps the most surprising. The ‘provincial’ connotations that one could possibly link to this project obviously sparked some discussion among the jury, despite the great appreciation for the concept and elaboration. H’m, if you’re afraid of being branded a country cousin, your self-esteem isn’t what it should be. For that reason alone, this project deserved first prize.

The jury has performed an admirable task, taken the competition extremely seriously, written an extensive and balanced jury report, dealt in depth with the submitted projects, passed judgement on more than 70 projects, the quality of the nominated plans is fine, and the three joint first-prize winners deserve a chance in the next round. But, unfortunately, the jury succumbed to conservatism and personal preference in their final decision. As far as I’m concerned, there could have been more provocative ideas in the selected projects, and certainly more variation. Remarkably, the winning projects also try to hide themselves as much as possible – hidden in an existing building, beneath the Mekelweg or in the landscape. None of the winning schemes proudly shows its face to the world. I advocate a modest, open building and a modest position for the faculty on the campus. A certain neutrality, a building that primarily works (call it performative if necessary) – all very fine to me. But that doesn’t mean the building shouldn’t be self confident and conspicuous. All this hiding makes you think that the entrants (or rather the jury that chose the winners) have lost faith in the architecture of the 'building at is'.

The question is also whether the competition client has made all that much progress with this winning selection when it comes to defining more precisely the definitive programme of requirements. The final selection doesn’t offer much more than an initial exploration of the possibilities of the standard programme that was set. Luckily, all the projects that made the final rounds are on show at the NAi, so we can carry the discussion forward.