Tag Archives: BLUE PERIOD

#228: STYLE VS. NO STYLE

August 7, 2026

left: Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Laboratory, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Cambridge, Massachusetts, by Frank Gehry (photo by Meriç Dağlı on Unsplash); middle: The Oculus, World Trade Center Transportation Hub, New York, New York (photo by Reza Shokri on Pexels); right: The Church of the Light at Ibaraki Kasugaoka Church, Ibaraki, Osaka, Japan (photo from parametric-architecture.com)

Are you an architect that works on a signature vision, honing it year after year—resulting in a personal language like Frank Gehry, Santiago Calatrava, or Tadao Ando? Or do you claim, like many architects try, to have “no preconceived notions” of design?

upper left: Barcelona Pavilion, Barcelona, Spain, Ludwig Mies van der Rohe (photo by Merna Fakha on Pexels); upper right: Victorian house, San Francisco, California, architect unknown (photo by Leonie Clough on Unsplash); lower left: Stahl House, Case Study House #22, Los Angeles, California, by Pierre Koenig (photo by Anthony Poon); lower right: Casa Mila, Barcelona, Spain, by Antoni Gaudi (photo by Erwin Litschauer on Pixabay)

I see that trite phrase on so many architecture websites. Do you really have no ideas, personal interests, nor artistic ideas? Do you truly start each new project empty-headed? If this is true, then you as a democratic and diplomatic architect must be willing and skilled to work in any architectural style, from a Miesian glass box to an ornate Victorian mansion, from a Mid-Century Modern replica, to a Gaudi-esque sculptural work.

I posit that architects use the cliché of having “no preconceived notions” merely as a sales position, to sound like architecture is purely a client service and a problem solving endeavor—forgetting that architecture is also art. I believe that though most architects pretend to have no personal design style, quite the contrary, many architects have design agendas and processes in their psyche.

Upper left: Boy and Dog in a Johnnypump, by Jean-Michel Basquiat, 1982; upper right: Autumn Rhythm (Number 30). by Jackson Pollock, 1950; lower left: The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp, by Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn, 1632; lower right: Early Sunday Morning, by Edward Hopper, 1930
The Tragedy, Pablo Picasso, 1903

My favorite architects are like artists. Whether Basquiat or Pollock, Rembrandt or Hopper, an artist’s work is recognizable like a signature brand. Artists even have a labeled style within their style. Take for example Picasso’s well-known “Blue Period.” From 1901 to 1904, he explore a multitude of melancholic blue shades representing pain and poverty. So too are many architects—as artists—not willing to work in a range of styles, hence my argument that all architects actually have preconceived notions.

When starting a project, an architect with a known style has ground already covered, since a client has a basic idea of what a project might look and feel like. As a business model, a signature style might be more efficient to produce, as the architect iterates ideas within creative guardrails vs. the architect that starts at ground zero, all ideas viable for exploration.

The Getty Center, Los Angeles, California, by Richard Meier (photo by Sarina on Pixabay)

Take Richard Meier for example: When time comes to select colors for the building, he works famously with white. He does not test earth tones vs. pastels vs. primary colors. This Pritzker-prized architect has developed a strong design language based simply on shades of white.

For those architects, whose projects look similar, they have a toolbox of ideas, most negatively called a template or formulaic. But there is nothing wrong with this if said toolbox contains groundbreaking exciting ideas, like many of our celebrated Starchitects. Consider for example the many art institutions, prestigious universities, and fancy corporations that have wanted the same Gehry-designed building.

(photo by Justyn Warner on Unsplash)

On the other hand, for the architect that boasts no preconceived style and instead offers an open-ended creative process, the client may have many different options presented to them—even diametrically opposed like a Spanish Colonial Revival building vs. one inspired by Abstract Minimalism. Such architects go as far as to divide up their catalog of work with stylistic labels, when presented in a book or a website, e.g. “traditional” vs. “contemporary” vs. “transitional.” Would Gehry or Meier ever do this?

Whether you are an architect honing a personal style or one that starts with a blank canvas, or the many variations on the design spectrum, know your style, stay true to your process, and admit to who you are.

#57: “IT ALL SOUNDS THE SAME TO ME”

March 3, 2017

Beatles statute, Liverpool, England (photo by Amanda Malec on Pexels)

I often hear, “Yeah, that song is okay I guess. I think all the songs of [insert band name] sound the same to me.” In architecture, similar criticism is imposed on our most famous creators.

Ludwig van Beethoven (from ralphmag.org)
Ludwig van Beethoven (from ralphmag.org)

Is sameness a bad thing? Most of The Beatles songs sound similar, with those peppy lyrics and obvious chord progressions, as do much of Beethoven’s music, with his mishmash of beauty and rage.

All of Mamet’s work reads the same with that staccato rhythm, as does Poe’s chilling tone. Warhol, Picasso and Rembrandt—each pursued his lifelong personal expression, resulting in what one might wrongly dismiss as being all the same.

Cows, by Andy Warhol, 1966
Cows, by Andy Warhol, 1966

If the work is genius, as generally agreed upon for the names above, is it so bad that it is all the same? Should we complain about Apple products being all the same? Oh, that predictable minimal simplicity, the beautiful Zen-like posture.

Apple products (photo by LUM3N from Pixabay)

I do think many of Franks’ architecture looks like variations-on-a-theme, but I like all the projects. Here, I speak of both Frank Lloyd Wright and Frank Gehry (here and here).

I see no problem. But I do find it hilarious when critics look at similar appearing projects and assign reasons for how each one is different. Different metaphors for the same building—for example, Gehry was exploring how a fallen city rises from the ashes. Or, Gehry was expressing the blossoming of a flower. Or, Gehry was fascinated with sun rays beaming outward. And so on.

Projects by Gehry Partners
upper left: Guggenheim Museum, Bilbao, Spain (photo by SaraJanssen from Pixabay); upper right: DZ Bank, Berlin, Germany (photo from cnn.com); lower left: Walt Disney Concert Hall, Los Angeles, California (photo by Reza Rostampisheh on Unsplash); lower right: Experience Music Project Museum, Seattle, Washington (photo from pinterest.com)

When interviewing an architect, you will often hear him profess, “I do not have a singular style.” The word “style” (here and here) is considered a dirty word, as if architecture is a superficial thing and not the evolving amalgamation of intensive client research, the balance of program, building codes and science, and the careful consideration of budget and schedule.

Many architect’s say that they don’t have a singular style because they don’t want to be typecast, like Jim Carrey doing slapstick. Architects also fear the word “style,” particularly when used in trite reference to something like Picasso’s “Blue Period.” In this phase between 1901 and 1904, Picasso mainly painted monochromatically in either shades of blue or blue-green. And it was all spectacular.

Projects by Richard Meier and Partners Architects upper left: Douglas House, Harbor Springs, Michigan (photo by Mark Jongman-Sereno); upper right: Smith House, Darien, Connecticut (photo from richardmeier.com); lower left: Luxembourg Residence, Luxembourg (photo from richardmeier.com); lower right: Giovannitti House, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania (photo from richardmeier.com)
Projects by Richard Meier and Partners Architects
upper left: Douglas House, Harbor Springs, Michigan (photo by Mark Jongman-Sereno); upper right: Smith House, Darien, Connecticut (photo from richardmeier.com); lower left: Luxembourg Residence, Luxembourg (photo from richardmeier.com); lower right: Giovannitti House, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania (photo from richardmeier.com)

But here’s the thing. All architects, world famous or quietly practicing in her neighborhood, have a certain look to their work, specific aspects of exploration that are individual to each and every architect. In fact, most good architects have that singular style, and I argue that there is nothing wrong with it.

Obvious celebrated examples are Frank Gehry, Richard Meier, Morphosis, and Tadao Ando. For each of these designers, one can suggest that all their work is uninteresting because it all looks the same—that they only subscribe to a certain style. Is this so wrong? No.

Projects by Morphosis upper left: Caltrans District 7 Headquarters, Los Angeles, California (photo by Liao Yusheng); upper right: San Francisco Federal Building, San Francisco, California (photo from sf.curbed.com); lower left: Student Recreation Center, University of Cincinnati, Ohio (photo by Mark Tepe); lower right: Hypo Alpe-Adria Center, Klagenfurt, Austria (photo by Christian Richters)
Projects by Morphosis
upper left: Caltrans District 7 Headquarters, Los Angeles, California (photo by Liao Yusheng); upper right: San Francisco Federal Building, San Francisco, California (photo from sf.curbed.com); lower left: Student Recreation Center, University of Cincinnati, Ohio (photo by Mark Tepe); lower right: Hypo Alpe-Adria Center, Klagenfurt, Austria (photo by Christian Richters)

Even for the lesser known local architects working under the radar, he too has a style where their designs look the same, possibly because this architect loves designing homes with wood siding and metal roofs, or offices that are modern with stainless steel trim. It’s not a compromising position for an architect to have areas of interest, be responsive to local materials and construction methods, and to possess a personal vision of the world. In fact, you want an architect to have a strong viewpoint on the environment around him. If not, what are you hiring, just a drafting service?

Projects by Tadao Ando upper left: Church of Light, Osaka, Japan (photo from tadaoando.wikia.com); upper right: Setouchi Aonagi, Shikoku, Japan (photo from minimalissima.com); lower left: Clark Art Institute, Williamstown, Massachusetts (photo by Tucker Bair); lower right: Pringers House, Mirissa, Sri Lanka (photo by Edmund Sumner)
Projects by Tadao Ando
upper left: Church of Light, Osaka, Japan (photo from tadaoando.wikia.com); upper right: Setouchi Aonagi, Shikoku, Japan (photo from minimalissima.com); lower left: Clark Art Institute, Williamstown, Massachusetts (photo by Tucker Bair); lower right: Pringers House, Mirissa, Sri Lanka (photo by Edmund Sumner)
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