Selling Architecture

I have been around a lot of architects in my life. Whether it was when I was in school presenting a pin-up of my work, with colleagues at the firm, or following their story on a page, I have created a solid sample size for what works and what doesn’t. One of the fundamental pillars of some of the most famous architects is their ability to sell. Whether that was Raymond Hood selling his skyscrapers in the 1920s, Frank Gehry selling curves to the highest bidder, or Thomas Heatherwick selling the Vessel to Hudson Yards, they’ve all been cited as sharing similar qualities in their ability to get into a room and sell a project. The thing about these architects is that they are the most famous, but by no means are they the best. They are entertaining, they have a clear style, and they have a product, but that does not always mean that they are the best architect for hire.

For example, Heatherwick’s Vessel is a monstrosity. People have literally climbed to the top and jumped off it, it’s so bad. It is known internationally, has hundreds of articles written about it, and the surrounding community finds it appalling. But right beside it is “The Shed.” Heard of it? Unless you are an architect or from New York city, probably not. It’s a culturally significant building designed by two of the most thoughtful architects of our time, Elizabeth Diller and Ricardo Scofidio. They didn’t “sell” their building before it was created. They built the building and used it as a tool for getting more projects in the future. They let their work do the selling. Something that many architects hope can happen, but almost never does. So you need to inspire like Heatherwick, but you need to build like Diller & Scofidio.

There is a lot that goes into being an architect that they do not teach you in school, and the most important one is understanding how to sell your product. It’s something that makes a lot of us cringe when we hear it, because it does not feel like the best way to spend our time as designers. We would rather spend our time actually designing and creating the narrative of the building. But the reality is that there will be no meaningful buildings to create if you don't inspire someone to take a leap of faith in building something that could change their life, and the lives of the people around them.

How do we align design with hope?

Architects assume that what they are working on will be understood and easily accepted. Often it is the opposite that happens. Buildings are massively misunderstood, and the "salesperson" there to sell it is often the real estate agent with little to no knowledge about why a lot of the decisions were made. I want to hear more from the architects themselves in a way that is less boring and stale. Providing hope alongside designs needs to be treated as a necessity, and the work of architects needs to be celebrated in a way that can be understood by the public. The turtlenecked introvert is not working, and is not creating hope for the public to want to go in your buildings.

Striking a balance between the knowledge and expertise that architects provide and the inspiration communities need to go forward on projects is what we need to make one of the largest investments of our lifetimes: building a building.