Architects: Want to have your project featured? Showcase your work through Architizer and sign up for our inspirational newsletters.

There is a place online that I do not recommend visiting unless you have a lot of free time. It is called the Consumer Aesthetics Research Institute, and it is as compulsively browsable as Wikipedia once was, before the novelty wore off and it became a utility, inconspicuous yet essential, like water from the tap. 

The Consumer Aesthetics Research Institute is an archive of commercial art styles, or “consumer aesthetics,” that appeared in various forms of media from the 1960s to the present. Each entry includes both visual examples of the style in action and a brief description of when the aesthetic appeared and what it represents. 

Reading this site greatly expands your vocabulary for kitsch design. You learn to say, for instance, that your mom’s “It’s Wine O’Clock Somewhere” wall sign features the Live, Laugh, Love font instead of merely calling it cringe. You also discover new forms of nostalgic longing. I never realized there was such a thing as The Global Village Coffeehouse aesthetic before, much less that I missed it. 

One thing you might notice is that all of these styles seem super dated. This is true even — especially? — of the most contemporary looks like Corporate Memphis, an instantly recognizable and widely hated visual language that just might be the hegemonic consumer aesthetic of our time. 

Very few people will admit to liking Corporate Memphis graphic design. Luckily, it has little in common with the original work of the Memphis Group. Katharina Brenner, Corporate Memphis (2019), CC BY 4.0

The Institute describes Corporate Memphis as “The Generic 10s ‘Friendly’ Corporate Aesthetic, neo-Memphis, pastel colors, Mondrian influence, corporate appropriation of Vaporwave motifs, geometric sans typefaces, Monstera plants, exposed plywood, white walls, Matisse-influenced graphics.” For some reason, this style often features oddly proportioned human figures with wobbly arms and legs. Outwardly approachable yet ultimately distant, the style is like an affable boss who says they want to destigmatize talking about mental health  — but then balks when you ask to take a personal day. 

The only truly offensive aspect of Corporate Memphis, however, is its name. The “Memphis” part is a reference to Memphis Milano, or the Memphis Group, a revolutionary design collective that was founded in Milan in 1980 by the architect and industrial designer Ettore Sottsass. The name speaks to the bright, almost fauvist color palette of Corporate Memphis as well as its emphasis on flat geometric patterns. These were certainly features of the original Memphis group’s work, but the similarities end there. 

While Corporate Memphis is bland and conformist, the work of the Memphis group was radical and anarchistic, a deliberate challenge not only to Modernism, but to the very notion of good taste. These were designers who knew that to create a new visual language, one must be willing to create objects that are ugly. And to be sure, much of what this group created was brilliantly ugly. 

Memphis Milano furniture and design objects displayed in an apartment. Check out the birdlike objects displayed on the mantle. Dennis Zanone, Memphis-Milano Design Collection, CC BY-SA 3.0

Memphis Milano was not just a consumer aesthetic, but an attempt to overcome the dialectic between modernism and traditionalism that characterized design thinking in the latter half of the 20th century and still hinders designers today. Like other postmodern tendencies in architecture and design, Memphis was a response to this crisis. What was unique about Memphis was its utter lack of self-seriousness. This sense of play is the secret to its mischievous vitality. It is why David Bowie owned over 100 Memphis objects, and why architects and designers should look to the movement for inspiration today. 

As the story goes, the group took its name from Bob Dylan’s song “Stuck Inside of Mobile With the Memphis Blues Again,” which they played on repeat on the meeting when they first joined together and resolved to create a new visual language. This song has always been one of my favorites by Dylan. Using mythic and hallucinatory imagery, Dylan describes a nightmare of stasis, or what Nietzsche called “eternal return.” This is precisely what the designers, who came from different generations and nations, wanted to escape via clashing neon colors. 

Memphis artists designed furniture, lighting, fabrics, carpets, ceramics, glass and metal objects. Their designs often incorporated plastic laminate and terrazzo, consciously eschewing the fetish for raw materials that is still characteristic of Modernism. To the contemporary eye, Memphis objects are reminiscent of Nickelodeon sets from the 1990s —  which were inspired by Memphis — but when these objects were first exhibited they seemed simply crazy. An assault on good taste — but a good natured one. 

Sottsass’s famous “Carlton” room divider, an object that violates every Modernist notion of unity, proportion, and good taste. Sailko, Ettore sottsass per memphis srl., libreria carlton, milano 1981, CC BY 3.0

Sottsass, who died in 2007 at the age of 90, was an entertaining speaker who maintained a paradigmatically postmodern outlook on the world. That is, he had what Lyotard called an “incredulity toward metanarratives” and believed that the only possible knowledge of the world was partial or fragmentary. 

In a 2001 interview with the art critic Hans Ulrich Obrist, Sottsass opines that “Existence is fragmentary, because we no longer accept the logic that we hoped would tie up everything. Even that great scientist strapped to a wheelchair, Hawking, said this: ‘If we could find a formula that holds together the universe, I’d know what to think of God.’ The fact remains that this formula can’t be found! It doesn’t exist!” He continues, “At any rate, the same problem exists in everyday life. When I read a newspaper, for example, I can’t grasp the dimensions of what’s happening between here and, say, the Middle East, between here and New York.” 

Like Derrida, Barthes, and other thinkers commonly labeled “postmodern,” Sottsass believed that recognizing the limits of one’s knowledge was liberating. It frees one of the pressure to define a unified picture of the world. Fragments of knowledge, of beauty, can be appreciated for what they are, and not subordinated to a larger system. This was Sottsass’s picture of the world, and he believed that one’s ideas influenced everything one creates. 

Martine Bedin was the youngest member of the Memphis Group. She described her “Super Lamp” as “like a small dog I could carry with me.” This was the Memphis Group’s most profitable object. You can still buy them online. Caffe_Paradiso, Memphis Super Lamps by Martine Bedin, CC BY 2.0

“It’s clear that if I’m designing architecture, I need to know things that are not the same as what I have to know to design a glass vase, and to design a glass vase you need to know things that are not the same as what you need to take a photograph,” he said in the same 2001 interview. “But apart from these technical differences — which are certainly important because they have an effect on what I can design and condition — there still remains, deep down, what I think of life, why I do things, what I imagine happens when I design something.” 

What Sottsass and his allies in the Memphis Group believed in was restoring joy and fun to architecture and design. They did not seek a unified aesthetic with a single message, but rather a style that embraced the wild diversity of life. The closest musical analogy to the visual language of the Memphis Group is jazz. 

There is a lightness to Memphis — a real lightness — that should not be confused with the forced and inauthentic cheerfulness of Corporate Memphis. While Thomas Heatherwick does not name the Memphis Group in his book Humanize, a polemic against the drabness of much contemporary architecture, I believe that they were responding to the same issue he lays out, a problem that is still relevant today. Heatherwick complains that architects today are afraid of playing with ornamentation and other design quirks that don’t fit within their overarching vision or theory of design. For Sottsass and his allies in the Memphis Group, there didn’t need to be a theory. A building or lamp could be adorned with any color or pattern — just because.

While you might find the first wave of Memphis designs garish, several alumni of this group such as Nathalie du Pasquier have gone on to incorporate Memphis motifs in textiles, paintings, and other designs that can honestly be described as beautiful. This, to me, is a sign of Memphis’s triumph in paving the way for new forms of thinking.

Architects: Want to have your project featured? Showcase your work through Architizer and sign up for our inspirational newsletters.

The post Wild and Free: Why The Revolutionary Design Collective Memphis Milano Still Matters appeared first on Journal.

Architects: Want to have your project featured? Showcase your work through Architizer and sign up for our inspirational newsletters.

It was a late summer evening on top of a roof terrace in downtown Athens, where a group of architects, artists and political scientists were discussing David Chipperfield’s new extension proposal for the National Archeological Museum, selected by the municipality a year prior, in 2023. Since then, the renowned architect has become a well-known name in the Athenian community, with his other projects, such as the Neues Museum in Berlin and the Procuratie Vecchie restoration in Venice, becoming examples of his architectural sensitivity towards cultural landmarks. Through the conversation, one thing was clear:

“We need a starchitect that understands and respects culture.”

Even though the term “starchitect” is problematic, the reasoning behind this particular phrase is quite strategic. David Chipperfield is a figure who convinces the never-changing, mistrusting Greeks that a piece of their cultural heritage lies in good hands, ready to undergo a makeover that will not only impact the museum itself but, more importantly, the immediate urban fabric that has been gradually deteriorating since the 2008 financial crisis.

Left: Fac?ade of Casa RIA, the new RIA headquarters in the historical centre of Santiago de Compostela | Right: A Cantina is the gastronomic space that supports the public programme of Casa RIA | Photos by Adrián Capelo?

The Casa RIA exhibition space hosts temporary exhibitions aligned with RIA’s research areas | Photo by Adrián Capelo?

It is not by chance that associating Chipperfield’s name with the particular project exuded a sense of confidence and relief. His optimistic approach is that architects need to become reengaged with society, environment and culture, tackling larger, more strategic and impactful projects and stop being mere ‘architectural decorators;’ a philosophy that led to his own research project situated in Galicia, Spain.

David Chipperfield’s relationship with the place started in 1990, when he built a holiday house. After almost two decades, the president of Galicia, Alberto Núñez Feijóo asked him whether he could help improve the region’s planning, stating that “the nature is spectacular and the towns are amazing in their essence, but they mess them up. They are modernized in the most horrible, brutal manner.”

As a result, the architect set up a research group named Fundación RIA in Santiago de Compostela, which acts as a non-profit independent agency that studies and develops territorial strategies for Galicia to preserve its natural and cultural heritage. The rest of the article presents two research projects and two reflection pieces written by David Chipperfield himself, discussing the area’s abundance in opportunity, where its natural landscape, culture and traditions hold the key to rediscovering and reappropriating the Galician local identity.

Urban sprawl in the surroundings of Vigo, the most populated city of Galicia | Photo by Adrián Capelo?

Revitalization plan for the model village of Muimenta, in collaboration with the regional government | Courtesy of Fundación RIA

1. Model villages

One initiative is the regeneration plans for the pilot model villages of muimenta and trascastro, which become architectural instruments that deal with the degradation of the productive, rural force of Galicia, due to population losses and the abandonment of land. Consequently, these model villages rehabilitate the buildings and public spaces, with the aim to attract new residences and reactivate the region’s productive force.

Layout for the future headquarters of the Marine Research Institute (CSIC) in Vigo | Courtesy of Fundación RIA

2. CISC marine research institute

This project develops the masterplan for the relocation of the Spanish institution of marine research center (IMM) to the former ETEA in Vigo, a marine research pole. The new location allows the IMM to grow to an impressive number of 350 employees as well as come in contact with other educational institutions such as the University of Vigo. This urban gesture essentially transforms the wider area into an international reference for marine research, promoting scientific progress and drawing up a planning proposal that integrates new buildings within the existing context, while responding at the same time to the programmatic needs of the IMM.

In addition to hosting multidisciplinary and participative processes, ‘Towards a territorial agenda for Galicia,” RIA hosts student workshops to engage young minds in hands-in learning and problem-solving | Photo by Adrián Capelo?

The local newspaper La Voz de Galicia (the voice of Galicia) has been a crucial tool throughout the community’s redevelopment. Over time, David Chipperfield reflected upon a series of opinion articles presented through the paper that discuss the many issues Galicia — and by extent Fundación RIA — have to resolve.

3. Vamos a la calle

A fundamental challenge that had to be addressed was controlling the irregular planning and prioritization of cars and convenience over local heritage. Throughout the years streets were converted from social spaces into traffic highways, eradicating any sense of communal, public space. David Chipperfield writes ‘Over the last 40 years, Galician towns and cities have suffered a loss of identity as a result of poorly controlled development and the indiscriminate demolition of old buildings.’ He places great emphasis on the ‘public floor’, i.e. pavements and surfaces that create a sense of consideration and importance to the people that experience them.

Furthermore, Chipperfield praises the project of Porto do Son, completed in 2022 by CREUSeCARRASCO Arquitectos and rvr arquitectos, which not only regains the port’s public space but manages to do so through a series of collaborating efforts and the dissolution of frequently clashing interests amongst its residents and political parties.

The foundation addresses sustainable land management, and Barbanza Ecosocial Lab is an action research project promoting sustainable local initiatives | Photo by Adrián Capelo?

4. Galicia, land of opportunity

Finally, the architect reflects upon an opinion article that discusses concerns on global warming and how it greatly affects communities as well as the overall quality of life. Through his writing, he characterizes Galicia as a region that is more prepared to deal with climate change than other Spanish areas. Nature is embedded in the area’s way of life, through their traditional farming systems, and extended natural resource. It holds the infrastructure necessary, in which humans can work together with nature and explore ways of production and distribution that has no environmental impact.

David Chipperfield in Galicia, with views of the Ría de Arousa | Photo by Adrián Capelo?

Observing both the founder’s as well as the foundation’s research and actions, one notices that their ideas are intertwined. In both their work (written and visual) architecture — in its traditional sense — is given a backseat. Conversations on form, geometry, materials and spatial organization are replaced (in the case of the Galicia project) with discussions on management, marine biology and relocation of institutions and governing bodies, while inter-disciplinary studies, strategic decisions and a deep understanding of culture and local community are also the bread and butter in Chipperfield’s overall work.

Returning to the small community of Exarcheia in downtown Athens, where the National History Museum is located, it is not surprising that David Chipperfield has been such a “reassuring” choice for the wider architectural community: he is an architect who looks beyond aesthetics and is perfectly in tune with the context in which he designs. The Galicia project is an experiment not just for Chipperfield but for the global architectural community; fortunately, it seems to be succeeding and perhaps will pave the way for other architects to follow in its footsteps.

Architects: Want to have your project featured? Showcase your work through Architizer and sign up for our inspirational newsletters.

Top image: View of the Ría de Arousa, Galicia | Photo by Adrián Capelo?

The post The Galicia Project: David Chipperfield and Fundación RIA appeared first on Journal.

Ema is a trained architect, writer and photographer who works as a Junior Architect at REX in NYC. Inspired by her global experiences, she shares captivating insights into the world’s most extraordinary cities and buildings and provides travel tips on her blog, The Travel Album.

When it comes to travel, food often takes center stage. We see countless travel blogs and guides centered around culinary exploration — sampling street food in Bangkok, indulging in croissants in Paris, or seeking out the best gelato in Rome. While there is no denying the appeal of experiencing a region’s gastronomy, I would argue that architecture offers an equally, if not more, compelling reason to travel. Architecture is the silent storyteller of a place, reflecting its culture, history, and aspirations in a way that food alone cannot. Let’s take a moment to consider why we should travel for architecture, not just for food.

Architecture: The Universal Language of Travel

DZ Bank Berlin by Gehry Partners, Berlin, Germany

One of the most fascinating aspects of architecture is its ability to communicate without the need for translation. Where food might require an understanding of local ingredients, methods, and sometimes even cultural customs, architecture transcends these boundaries. A building or structure can evoke emotion, inspire awe, and reveal the ingenuity of its creators without requiring prior knowledge of its origin.

Take for example the inspiring Gothic cathedrals of Europe or the sleek, modernist lines of Frank Gehry’s designs. These structures are instantly recognizable and leave an impression that speaks to people from all walks of life. Architecture, much like art, is a universal language that invites exploration and interpretation regardless of where you’re from or what you know about a particular culture. You don’t need to be able to grasp the intricacies of construction to appreciate the sheer grandeur of iconic buildings or to stand in awe of their innovative designs. In this way, architecture offers a truly universal experience that crosses borders, much like a shared language.

Architecture: A Feast for the Eyes and Soul

Centre Pompidou Metz by Shigeru Ban Architects, Metz, France

While food offers an ephemeral pleasure, architecture provides a lasting experience one that engages the senses over time. A meal can be delicious, even memorable, but it is fleeting. Architecture, on the other hand, remains as a lasting imprint of a city’s character and history, withstanding the test of time.

Consider the Colosseum in Rome. As a structure that has withstood nearly two millennia, its impact is far more enduring than even the most revered Italian cuisine (in my opinion). The experience of standing before this ancient amphitheater, imagining the history that unfolded within its walls, offers an emotional depth that far surpasses any plate of pasta. Architecture allows us to connect not just with a place in the present, but with its past, its evolution over centuries, and its role in shaping the lives of those who came before us. It is a way of engaging with history in three dimensions.

The Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, for example, stands as a testament to how architecture can reshape entire cities. Frank Gehry’s design is not only an extraordinary piece of architecture but also a transformative project that revitalized a city. The structure itself is more than a venue for art exhibitions; it is an artwork that elevates the urban experience. Visitors from around the world are drawn to witness how it embodies the intersection of art, architecture and urban renewal. The success of the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao has stimulated local economy and inspired other cities to invest in architectural projects as catalysts for urban renewal and economic growth. This case underlines the unique power of architecture to not only serve functional or aesthetic purposes but also to foster socio-economic development and cultural renaissance in urban settings. The experience of walking around and within such a structure feeds not just the eyes but also the soul. This lasting impact is something that architecture uniquely provides.

Architectural Destinations Over Culinary Hotspots

Blue Planet by 3XN, Kastrup, Denmark

While many travel destinations are celebrated for their food scenes, I would argue that their architecture is the true highlight. Whereas meals are transient, the experience of architecture is lasting. The spaces and buildings we explore continue to resonate with us long after we return home. They provide a place for us to gather, explore and experience either in groups or alone, and each person individually perceives and interprets these buildings and spaces uniquely. The grandeur of a city’s skyline or the quiet dignity of a well-designed public park influences our perceptions of a place and our memories of it. These architectural experiences shape our narratives of travel and become landmarks in our personal and shared histories.

Take Paris, for instance. While food enthusiasts may seek out the best patisseries, it is the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, and the intricate beauty of Haussmannian buildings that truly define the city. Paris is remembered as much for its architectural splendor as for its culinary delights. Similarly, consider Chicago. Famous for its deep-dish pizza, yes, but even more so for the architecture that makes it unique. From the soaring Willis Tower to the elegant lines of Mies van der Rohe’s modernist buildings and the playful reflective curves of The Bean, Chicago’s architectural heritage defines the city far more profoundly than its local dishes. Architecture becomes the enduring hallmark of these cities — the signature feature that remains long after the memory of a meal has faded.

Architecture is Global, Food is Local

Tianjin Binhai Library by MVRDV, Tianjin, China

Another compelling argument in favor of architecture as the true focus of travel is its global nature. While culinary traditions are often limited to specific regions — such as authentic Neapolitan pizza in Italy or traditional sushi in Japan — architecture has a far-reaching, global presence. Roman aqueducts, for instance, can be found throughout Europe and the Mediterranean, a testament to the widespread influence of Roman engineering.

This brings me to another key point: traveling for architecture offers significant educational benefits. It exposes us to different architectural movements, design philosophies and engineering feats. This exposure is not just academic; it informs our understanding of space and functionality, influencing everything from our aesthetic preferences to our ideas about living environments. For those interested in design, urban planning or art, the educational benefits of architectural travel are immense. Architecture allows travelers to witness how ideas, styles and innovations transcend borders. It reveals the interconnections between cultures and provides a broader understanding of global history, politics and economics, much more so than food, which remains tightly tied to its local roots.

Architecture Offers Adventure and Engagement

Danish National Maritime Museum by Bjarke Ingels Group (BIG), Helsingør, Denmark

While culinary travel may lead us to vibrant markets or celebrated restaurants, it is often a more passive experience. Architecture, on the other hand, offers adventure and engagement. Choosing architecture as the focus of our travels encourages us to look up and beyond the immediate gratifications of sensory experiences. It invites us to engage with our surroundings more thoughtfully and to appreciate the interplay of light, space, and material that only architecture can offer. As travelers, if we shift our gaze from the dining tables to the cityscapes, we might discover not just new sights but new ways of seeing.

Take the winding streets of Venice, where every turn offers a new discovery of Gothic, Renaissance and Baroque buildings. Walking through Venice is an immersive experience, where architecture becomes an adventure in itself, pulling you deeper into the city’s history and culture. Or consider Machu Picchu, where the architecture is not just something to admire but something to physically engage with — climbing the terraces, moving through the ruins, and immersing yourself in the landscape. In my opinion, architecture is often overlooked and taken for granted because it’s a constant presence in our lives. But I strongly believe that it encourages travelers to look deeper, to explore more fully, and to engage with their surroundings in a way that food simply cannot.

A Lasting Impression

While the delights of global cuisine are undeniable, the benefits of traveling for architecture provide a more profound, enduring and enriching experience. It is an invitation to engage with the world on a deeper level, offering insights not just into how people live, but how they aspire to live. For those seeking a truly transformative travel experience, architecture offers a path that is as intellectually rewarding as it is visually spectacular.

While food offers a sensory pleasure, it is temporary. Architecture, however, leaves a lasting impression. It defines cities, tells the story of cultures, and offers us a glimpse into the minds and hands that shaped the world. The next time you plan a trip, rather than searching for the best restaurants or street food stalls, consider focusing on the architecture.. or at least both. It will leave you with a deeper understanding of the place, its people, and its history. Architecture, after all, is the true feast — one that nourishes the soul and continues to inspire long after the journey has ended.

Architects: Want to have your project featured? Showcase your work through Architizer and sign up for our inspirational newsletters.

The post “We Should Travel for Architecture, Not Food. Change My Mind.” appeared first on Journal.