The text presented here is not precisely as published by OUP, but modifications are minor. Illustrations are another matter. Where images used in the original book were not my copyright, I have in most cases been able to substitute links to coloured images on the web. The sources are listed under Image Acknowledgements.

When this text was submitted as part of a PhD thesis in 1996, the Notes were greatly extended. Most readers may prefer to ignore them. They have been collected at the end of each chapter, with internal links leading to them and back to the text. They are a mixture of: simple page references; additional examples or quotations to justify generalisations; and some afterthoughts.

For a recent extensive treatment of this subject see Andrew Saint's Architect and Engineer: A Study in Sibling Rivalry, Yale, 2007.

Differing styles of interaction.

Candela, the Spanish-Mexican architect who made his reputation through his ability to design shell roofs (in the engineering sense of the word) and then build them, described the tension between the engineer and architect in the following terms:

"The second design phase … consists of a tremendous battle between the structural engineer and the architect - the former willing to introduce modifications which, although sometimes necessary, many other times should be unnecessary … On the other hand, the architect wants to maintain his preconceived idea, but has no weapons to fight against the scientific arguments of the technician. The dialogue is impossible between two people who speak different languages. The result of the struggle is always the same: science prevails and the final design has generally lost the eventual charm and fitness of detail dreamed by the architect." (Faber, 1963, p.14.)

This is, of course, a simplified and generalized account and few engineers would agree that the architect always loses. The attitudes of both parties can vary considerably and as a result there are differing styles of interaction.

At one extreme some engineers are happy to work as the 'right-hand man' to the architect. This attitude was expressed frequently at a debate on the controversial Montreal Olympic Stadiums organized by the ASCE. The structural efficiency of the chosen forms had been heavily criticized by Tedesko and Zetlin, two prominent New York consultants who considered that the structural engineer should have been called in early in the design process and allowed to influence the original architectural concept. In defence of the architect, Vigneault, a structural engineer who had collaborated on the project, made the analogy that if one bought a Picasso painting one did not try to change it. "Similarly, the idea … of the architect for the Olympic Stadium was bought and the entire world has accepted the project. I believe it was the proper role of the engineers to complete the design and construction with the use of the modern methods at our disposal."

Fig. 8.1. Montreal Olympics Stadium. Archt: R. Taillibert. [The tower had not been completed at the time this book was written (1984).] Photos may be found on the architect's web site: Link.

Záleski, an engineer who had assisted the same architect previously, said: "His creations have to be considered as works of art; they are large scale sculptures. As a designer I gave him structural support without ever wanting to change anything." Another consultant who had worked on the project agreed that the structure could have been more rational, but said: "… if we agree that these structures are to be considered sculptures with a certain function, esthetics should be left to the architect …" His company took it as a challenge to make the structures stand up following the shape given them by the architect. "If we agree that the esthetics should not be touched by the consulting engineer, I think another objection to these structures - cost - cannot be discussed either." [Note 1.]

The architect who prefers this type of relationship is typified by Fry whose references to "my" technicians have been quoted in Chapter 7. Many architects not surprisingly tend to see the engineer as a willing servant. In the 1850s, Professor Robert Kerr tried to persuade architects to act as "a servant of the public for the efficient design of buildings, precisely like the engineer".(Collins, 1965, p.260.) Jencks (1973) refers to "The traditional values of the engineer; self-effacement, service orientation, efficiency, openness to change, quantifiability, etc." [Note 2.]

In the middle ground come the many architects and engineers who prefer a relationship in which the engineer makes a positive contribution to the conception of form. [Note 3.] In 1974 the 'Architectural Record' initiated a mid-August series on engineering in architecture in order to "give recognition to engineers in building for their inventiveness and resourcefulness in work with architects to achieve economical and rational (as well as beautiful) buildings". [Note 4.] In the debate on the Montreal Olympics it was, typically, an architect who said he was "shocked to see that the architect is treated as god, and that the engineer has been born to be his slave and do whatever the architect wants." [Note 5.] The engineers who criticized the project all advocated better and earlier collaboration between the two professions and one stated that the architects who retained his services expected him to give frank and honest opinions about their proposals, including aesthetic as well as structural aspects.

The RIBA Handbook gives a very sensible appraisal of the engineer's contribution:

"In the field of building it can generally be assumed that the structural engineer is working as a member of a design team with the other disciplines involved … In this situation the engineer not only contributes his own special expertise but equally contributes to the combined work of the team; the whole as usual being greater than the sum of the parts. Thus while the engineer has the responsibility to prescribe the conditions for structural efficiency and stability, he also has a co-operative role in the design contribution of others, which in turn will affect the overall structural form." (RIBA, 1973, p.57.)

These differences in attitude are reflected in the organizational relationships to be found within the industry. Thus at the other extreme to the architect who demands individual leadership are some architectural firms willing to work as equal partners with other consultants in a package deal under the overall direction of the promoter. A few architects are willing to work under the direction of a chief engineer and some engineers work without an architect. These situations occur mostly in government departments and very large private organizations concerned with the design of 'engineering structures' such as power stations and bridges. Architects are rarely content under such conditions because as we have seen they are by training and inclination prepared for a completely different role. In an interview with Shellenbarger, a senior architect in the design offices of the international construction company Bechtel Inc. described architects in the Power Division as "there to put facades on power plants" (1979, p.51).

A large number of structures have in the past been designed entirely by engineers without the advice of architects. These include dams and their associated facilities, bridges, power stations, industrial structures such as mine head frames and bulk loading facilities, gantries, silos, warehouses and factories. In many cases, especially factories, the omission was as much due to a lack of interest amongst architects. This situation is rapidly changing.

Engineers like Torroja and Nervi who had the sensibility to design structures of beauty without the aid of an architect (though both frequently collaborated with architects as principal or consultant) are in a class by themselves. Probably inspired by these examples, and the general dissatisfaction with conventional arrangements, there have been suggestions that the engineer should take over as the 'master builder' of the future. [Note 6.] However, there is little chance that a master-builder of the future would be a direct descendant of either of the present professions. Practicising architects probably see the current trend towards the use of professional 'project managers' as a greater threat, resulting in the relegation of their own profession to the level of the other consultants.

Differing viewpoints, differing skills.

The fundamental cause of the difficulties in the engineer-architect relationship is the complexity of modern construction. This necessitates a division of labour and hence differing education systems. The differing roles attract people with differing personalities and the educational training reinforces their disparities so that the graduates emerge with incompatible scales of values.

A fact which many architectural commentators forget is that in the English-speaking world most structural engineers are educated in schools of civil engineering, so that structural knowledge forms only a part of the course alongside transport, water resources and other material of a general mathematical, scientific and civil engineering nature.

The major practical difference in the educational training is that the architect is encouraged to take an overall view of a problem with the accent on synthesis while the engineer is trained to tackle problems piecemeal (Tor, 1974) and the accent is on analysis. An architect who had trained originally as an engineer pointed out in one debate that the first thing he had been asked to design in his engineering course was, in the very last year, a small bedplate for a industrial sewing machine. From there he went straight to the first-year class of an architecture school and was immediately set the task of 'designing' a swimming pool.

He also pointed out that the 'studio' system of teaching used in architecture schools gives the courses a much less organized character. It is common in studio sessions for the lecturers to be practising architects who devote perhaps one or two days per week to teaching. Students thus have an opportunity to work on their projects shoulder-to-shoulder with teachers who are in contact with the real world of design.

A feature of the interviews mentioned in the previous Chapter is the frequency with which architects identify with one 'hero' amongst their teachers, particularly at postgraduate level. The contrast with the average engineering course is obvious.

As we saw in the previous chapter architecture courses place great emphasis on imagination, synthesis and planning, whereas engineering courses emphasize analysis, factual information and computational techniques. As a result the graduates emerge with very different skills. The Bechtel architect reported by Shellenbarger found there was much that the two professions could learn from each other when obliged to work together. "When you get an architectural project in an office the first thing you do is program it. Programming was something that [the engineers] didn't know anything about."

An architect hired to work with a team of engineers on the design of sewerage and water-treatment plants found that the engineers tended to lay out the plant as a physical manifestation of its flow diagram. He commented: "This sort of planning apart from generally ending in disorder was also inefficient … even the best process engineers have not been trained to ask questions about space and circulation that are second nature to an architect." [Note 7.]

The engineer's original conception of a scheme usually left out consideration of the people working in the plant particularly their need for ease of access to equipment and shortened lines of communication. The architect's influence resulted in a more compact arrangement which, besides improving the appearance, simplified road access and personnel control, and improved HVAC efficiency, piping layout, and zoning for the isolation of gas. On the other hand the Bechtel architect stated: "I'm learning things that I would never have exposure to in an architectural firm: means of controlling cost within a project; means of letting a client know how much his costs are going to be … And you seldom if ever see those kinds of methods used in architectural firms. By the time you get around to getting an estimate in an average architectural office, you're 75 to 95% of your way through working drawings …" (Shellenbarger, 1979, pp. 74, 76.)

In considering how the engineer and the architect can best contribute to the stages of the design process as described in the RIBA Plan of Work, Armstrong and Jack make several references to the differing approaches of the professions. They describe the first stage ('Inception') as mainly an information-gathering exercizes and feel the "logical and analytical approach of an intelligent engineer would contribute considerably … especially where the architect is not as objective and analytical as the process demands". (1969, p.169.) The 'Feasibility' and 'Outline Proposals' stages involve synthesis to a large degree: "a key stage for the architect, the time for conceptualising. Considerable assistance can be given by the engineers but to contribute effectively means having a more fluid approach than is customary amongst engineers". Both of these authors are partners in the Building Design Partnership, a multi-disciplinary consulting firm, one being an engineer and the other an architect.

They also point out that the architect's broader viewpoint means that he "is all too often guilty of making assumptions on an intuitive basis … his tendency is to ignore established work procedures if they seem irrelevant or tedious and there are few architects, in the authors' experience, who achieve high standards in all the main related areas …" (1969, p.170). The architect thus attempts to function as a generalist and is easily faulted when he enters the territory of any of the specialists. On his part he is able to criticize the specialists for their lack of knowledge of subjects outside their specialty, and their inability to take the overall view. According to Dunican, "it is unfortunate, but nevertheless true, that most engineers suspect the technical skill of the architects with whom they are working. This does not necessarily apply at the top level, but this suspicion certainly does exist in the drawing office. This often leads to technical arrogance on the part of the engineer, which conflicts with the apparent intellectual arrogance of the architect." (1966, p.98). A typical example is in the cladding of buildings. Engineers often accuse architects of being unable to keep the rainwater out of a building or maintain the structural integrity of the cladding. There have certainly been many failures in this area, some of them extremely costly. [Note 8.] The architect's impatience with the more mundane aspects of design, noted in the previous chapter, is one of the major sources of friction, particularly when he relegates creature comforts to a low priority. [Note 9.]

It is interesting to compare Fry's rhapsodic account of Corbusier's design of Chandigarh with Evenson's list of the complaints of its users. [Note 10.] The low level of interest in functional efficiency may be due to the architect's own disregard of comfort and convenience in pursuit of aesthetic principles. In current architectural philosphy 'monuments' are considered to be in bad taste, but when the famous American architect Philip Johnson was asked whether his Glass House was a monument, he replied: "Of course. It has nothing to do with a house. I live here, but I'd live in a barn." When asked whether a certain building was successful in functional terms, he replied: "That's mighty low terms to be successful." (Cook and Klotz, 1973, pp. 43, 46.)

Fig. 8.2. Assembly Building, Chandigarh. Punjab Govt.

Fig. 8.3. Glass House, New Canaan, Connecticut. Archt: Philip Johnson. Go to the Pritzker Prize web site; select 'enter' - 'complete list of laureates' - 'Philip Johnson'.

If architects tend to be pre-occupied with the broader and grander aspects of the project, the engineer has been accused, justifiably in many cases, of submerging himself in detail for defensive reasons. Fazlur Khan, responsible for the innovative structure of many American multi-storey buildings, pointed out that while there was a growing tendency for the architect to ask the engineer's opinion on the best solution for a problem, "too often the engineer would opt out of the extra responsibility", being happier when solving "200 simultaneous equations". [Note 11.]

A contributing factor must be that the average engineer bases his thinking on 'natural laws' or procedural rules handed down by Newton, Terzaghi, the local Standards Association or the appropriate Design Handbook. Even the more adventurous, like Torroja, are obliged to carry out proof- or model tests before putting a new idea into practice. In argument he is therefore more likely to say: 'This is so, because Newton said so,' or 'because my tests indicate it', or 'we should take this course of action because calculations indicate it will be cheapest'.

Architects on the other hand feel able to say 'This wall should be brick because I feel it will express what I want to say about the nature of this building'. Some architects do feel the need to quote the old masters' aphorisms, but on the whole the difference is evident, and contributes to charges of 'arrogance' on both sides. Perhaps the studio system and the adoption of heroes has something to do with the architect's self-confidence.

Broadbent also sees engineers as having opted for the relative certainties of structural design rather than the ambiguities of architectural value-judgements. He questions the conviction of many engineers that their work is as a result more demanding than that of the architect. (1973, p.362).

Probably the major single cause of disagreement between architects and engineers is the difference in their attitude to money. The whole rationale of the engineer is based on the maximization of the benefit-to-cost ratio. To the idealistic or artistic architect, money is simply a means to an end, and the more he can get of it, the better he can fulfil his aims. [Note 12.]

One engineer recounted how after much hard work he and his team devised an improvement to the structural system of a building which they calculated, would reduce its cost to the client by $10,000. When they informed the architect his response was "good, that means we can afford to have aluminium cladding" and he promptly diverted the money to this end. [Note 13.]

In discussing his design for the Federal Reserve Bank Building, New York, (abandoned just prior to the start of construction) Kevin Roche is quoted as saying: "It needs to relate to the tall office buildings on the block, and to the other large rectangular buildings in the vicinity." Referring to the planned development of other buildings in the locality, including the World Trade Center, he continues: "Our building will be surrounded by these monsters. They would place us in a hole … We say we don't want a lobby (at ground level) … Also we would like to get out of the hole. Let's take the whole building and move it up! Let's move it up to be in line with the cornice of the old building across the street." (Cook and Klotz, 1973, pp. 61, 62). As a result the design incorporated enormous legs 11 feet (3.35m) in diameter supporting the building 165 feet (50.3m) above the plaza. [Note 14.]

Fig. 8.4. Federal Reserve Bank Project. Archt: Kevin Roche. [Omitted from web version. Imagine a tall multi-storey building sitting on four 'table-legs'. Source: Cook, J. W. & Klotz, H. Conversations with Architects. Fig 2.21, p.64.]

The engineer's incomprehension of this type of approach is indicated in a letter Arup wrote in favour of the proposal to support the acoustic ceiling of the auditorium in the Sydney Opera House from a steel framework rather than a timber one, as proposed by Utzon. "As far as I understand it (the steel alternative) gives exactly the same outward appearance as your scheme. But it weighs much less and can be built and costs less. So what is so frightfully wrong?" (Baume, 1967, p.41).

Of course, not all architects have this cavalier attitude towards money and structural imperatives, but the scale of values with regard to aesthetics and function is always different from an engineer's. An extreme example of this is the 'structural joke'. At the John Deere & Co. Financial Services HQ, the columns which apparently support the portico above the entrance are in fact suspended from it and do not touch the terrace below. Corbusier's cooling-tower from the Government Assembly Building at Chandigarh, India, may be seen as an enormous joke at the expense of the politicians.

Fig. 8.5. John Deere & Company Financial Services H.Q., Moline, Illinois. A modern-mannerist joke. The architect, Kevin Roche, said: "This is another of our buildings that you see momentarily through a gap between the woods as you flash past in your sutomobile. On the right of the central section there is a real shadow on a solid wall, on the left there is a reflected [mirror image] shadow because the surface is a mirror. Two columns come down the front; as you flash past you see them and they form part of the composition, but because you can span the width with steel you don't need the columns so they don't go right down. There is a rather nice terrace and they would spoil the view."
[Photo: Kevin Roche John Dinkeloo Associates LLC.]

The separate education of architects and engineers allows them to develop completely different languages in which the same words mean entirely different things. An example is the way in which the two professions use the word 'design'. [Note 15.] Many architectural books attribute the 'design' of the cable net roof for the Munich Olympic Stadiums to Frei Otto. However, the original idea came from the architects Behnisch and Partners, and Otto was engaged as a specialist consultant along with the engineering firm of Leonhardt and Andrä. The form originally proposed by Behnisch was modified for stability reasons and Otto's contribution came from his wide experience of tensile structures and his model techniques, leading to the adoption of a practical form, definition of the resulting dimensions and preliminary calculations. The engineers' contribution was the traditional one of 'making it stand up' without necessitating further major changes in form. The exact definition of form is so important in cable net structures that Professor Argyris and his colleagues spent a full year in developing a mathematical approach. Then followed extensive computer analyses and specification of detail on the part of the engineers. Even so, most architects would still consider that the Behnisch firm and Otto did the 'real' design; the difficult first step of conceptualization and definition of form. Most engineers would tend to feel that anybody may dream up a fancy shape and that Leonhardt and his colleagues made the most important contribution in turning the concept into reality. [Note 16.] The problem of language will be discussed again in later chapters concerned with 'function' and 'economy'. (See also Gero and Cowan, 1976, p.6.)

Fig. 8.6. Roof of the stadium for the Munich Olympics (1972). Archts: Behnisch & Ptnrs with Frei Otto. Engrs: Leonhardt und Andrä
Photo: Dr.-Ing. Gero von der Hagen.

Once the graduate has left his school, the division is maintained by the institutionalization of the professions. We have already seen something of professional jealousy in the rival claims for leadership of the design team and disputes concerning the design of cladding. Many engineers also feel that architects are reluctant to involve them fully in structural design because they wish to retain as much as possible of the consulting fee for themselves.

Architects have also been accused of retaining control of the specification of cladding in multi-storey buildings when this really required the attention of an engineer owing to the high wind loads and the extent of thermal and long-term movements in the structure. They are accused of doing this because the associated fee, being a percentage of the cost of the cladding, may be as large as that which the structural consultant receives for the entire structural design.

There are also complaints of a tendency on the part of architects to exclude the engineer from the supervision of construction, or to employ him to inspect only minor portions of a difficult nature. In the latter case, complex problems may arise if the engineer happens to notice faulty construction in portions of the structure which he has designed but has not been engaged to inspect. Professional liability and simple ethics require that he correct the situation once he has become aware of it, but he may have difficulty in obtaining adequate recompense for his de facto supervision.

Despite these many differences, architects occasionally display quite positive attitudes towards engineers. The Architectural Association of London held an exhibition in 1982 devoted to 'The Engineers' and in a recent article the critic-architect Peter Cook lavished praise on the engineers involved in the British High-Tech movement. [Note 17.] It is now routine for reports of new projects in the architectural journals to list the engineering consultant and common for recognition of their contribution to be included in the text.

In contrast it is still common for engineers to publish papers on such projects without once mentioning the fact that an architect was involved or that architectural considerations had any influence on the design. Admittedly this is partly due to the convention which engineers have adopted from the world of science that such papers must be written in the passive voice in order to give the impression that inexorable logic rather than conscious choice governed the evolution of the design. It may also reflect the 'team mentality' of the engineer in contrast to the individualism of the architect.

Nevertheless architects seem more ready to give public recognition to the contribution of engineers than vice versa. Is this entirely due to the fact the engineers do a better job?

History of the division between the professions.

The history of the separation of the two disciplines in the Western World is traced to the middle of the eighteenth century; specifically to the founding of the Ecole des Ponts et Chaussees in Paris in 1747 and the School of Military Engineering at Mezieres in 1748. The distinction was at first blurred, with architects still designing bridges and engineers being fully responsible on occasions for the design of warehouses and even churches. [Note 18.]

As the scientific content of the work increased during the nineteenth century, with the establishment of theories of the Strength of Materials, the professions moved further apart. It was, however, still possible for architects to design fully the small-span masonry and timber buildings of that time using the old 'rule-of-thumb' methods for proportions. Engineers confined themselves to large-scale structures where precise calculation was essential and later on to the introduction of the new materials; cast iron, steel and finally reinforced concrete. As Stone has pointed out it was this latter development that around the turn of the century finally consolidated the position of the structural engineering consultant as we now know him (1969, p.467).

However, the split can hardly be thought of as a simple divergence of interest, starting from a common original position, which Collins considers to be due mainly to a difference in scale. In Britain the architect was something of a 'gentleman' and distanced himself from the craftsmen and labourers, whereas British engineers of the nineteenth century often rose from a simple background with a leaning towards the trades and were as much involved in mechanical as structural engineering.

In Italy, when the Gothic tradition was abandoned, architecture was taken over by painters, sculptors and draughtsmen. It was only in France, where architecture was considered the 'art of building' and in Germany where traditions were carried on in direct line from the cathedral builders, that a simple schism may be considered to have developed. In these places schools of architecture and civil engineering at first co-existed with academics moving easily from one to the other. Thus calls for reconciliation and debate about reasons and possible remedies commenced almost as soon as the split itself. [Note 19.]

Meanwhile, the majority of architects, locked in their internal battles over styles became little more than appliers of ornament to the facades of buildings, convinced that they could not surpass the perfection of the past and thus seeking inspiration from literature, history, archaeology and the fine arts. The engineers, riding on the wave of the Industrial Revolution, became preoccupied with the testing and development of materials and the use of computational techniques, looking for their inspiration (when they were not conducting their own investigations) to the physicists and mathematicians. [Note 20.]

However, in the later 19th century architects began to see the 'functional' approach of the engineer as a key to breaking free from their own preoccupation with style and ornamentation. Their attitude to engineers thus became somewhat complex. Even Frank Lloyd Wright wished to be recognized as a master engineer (Boyd, 1965, p.100). Le Corbusier wrote in his Vers une Architecture: "our engineers are healthy and virile, active and useful, balanced and happy in their work". (Unfortunately, he spoilt this picture by threatening elsewhere that an architect who fails to reach artistry will reveal himself as a "mere engineer".) [Note 21.]

Thus, in conjunction with the various functionalist theories, the concept was born of the engineer as a noble savage who was liable on occasions to create beauty because he was obliged to obey, and thus now and again fully express the 'natural law'. [Note 22.] Arup was able to write that, by the 1920s, "When I started my collaboration with architects … the engineer was almost a kind of hero - in theory at least." (1966, p.352)

The functionalist ethic survived the Second World War, and in the 1950s the drive to incorporate structural engineering in architecture received new impetus with the demand for large stadiums, auditoriums and arenas, and the development of analytical techniques capable of dealing with the new forms required to enclose such large volumes.

Admiration for the work of the engineer surfaced again as late as 1970 when Blake referred to the visions of the Archigram Group; mobile buildings and plug-in cities towering into the sky or built on stilts over the sea. These were received with contempt in many quarters as obviously impractical; but in Blake's words "somebody forgot to tell these certificable lunatics down at Cape Kennedy" who built the Vehicle Assembly Building so big that clouds form inside it; a mobile structure as high as a twenty-two storey building with plug-in workshops lifted by cranes; and the engineers who created 'cities' built on legs in the form of offshore oil drilling platforms. [Note 23.] This interest has been continued in the 'High-Tech' movement (chapter 10) which is particularly strong in the U.K. On the other hand, developments in architectural philosophy, inspired partly by the energy crisis and partly by a desire for a more human scale in buildings, suggest that many architects may give less prominence to the role of the structural engineer than in recent times.

Fig. 8.7. Archigram's 'Walking City' Project (1964). Archt: Ron Herron. archINFORM. (See also Cook, P. (ed.) Archigram, Studio Vista, London, 1972.)

Fig. 8.8. (a) Vehicle Assembly Building, Cape Kennedy (1966). Engrs: Roberts & Schaeffer Co. Archt: Max Urbahn. NASA (b) Mobile Launcher and Mobile Service Structure with Saturn V aboard. Archt-Engrs: Reynolds, Smith & Hills for Kennedy Space Center.
Source of the highly informative drawings used in the original: American Society of Civil Engineers, Conference on Space Age Facilities, Nov 1965. Proceedings, Fig. 4, p.154; and Fig. 11, p.221.

Fig. 8.9. Drawing of a typical North Sea Oil Platform in reinforced concrete compared in size with the Houses of Parliament, London.
Source: RIBA, Foster Associates, p.51.

Possible solution: interdisciplinary organizations.

Because attempts at reconciliation between the two disciplines have been going on more or less continously since 1840 it appears that the problem may be intractable. To begin with, the construction industry is extemely complex and the ideal of the master builder is unlikely to be realized in any but the occasional genius such as Nervi. As Boyd observed: "The rapprochment between engineer and architect after Wold War II was welcomed immoderately by some idealists who believed that it heralded the end of the art-science split and the reappearance of a master designer: architect and engineer rolled into one, to the great benefit of building." (1965, p.117.)

He pointed out that if the argument is carried to its logical conclusion, this composite person should possess the skills of all the other consultants as well. This is especially true for some buildings where provision for energy control dominates the form and sometimes overshadows the cost of the structure. Boyd also pointed out that with continually increasing complexity in all fields it is more likely that further subdivisions will occur, with structural engineers splitting into shell specialists, tensile roof specialists, and so on.

The future therefore seems to lie with the well-knit team rather than with the encyclopaedic talent of single individuals. Nervi naturally advocated the ideal of the master designer, but himself recognized the immense problems of educating such an individual and called for "the sincere collaboration of different people, each contributing the specific knowledge lacked by the others" (Reinforced Concrete Review, Dec. 1956, p.263).

The complex administrative arrangements involved in conventional architect-engineer interaction interfere with this process of collaboration. (See, e.g. Chackett, 1957). One response to this is the multi-disciplinary practice in which engineers and architects belong to the same firm. [Note 24.]

Truly equal partnerships are probably the best hope we have of achieving all-round design. However, the establishment and operation of such ventures is not without its problems. The founder of the Building Design Partnership, architect G.G. Baines, felt that many experiments in multi-disciplinary practice had failed because of the inability of individuals to see the complete picture, and because they grouped together for the wrong reasons. Many had come together because they were frightened of competition from larger firms and package deal contractors. A paper setting out the philosophy of the partnership states that the greatest problem is that difficulties still bring to the surface the narrowness of professional training so that instead of grappling with them from a united position "the inbred tendency is to run to our professional corners and fight the matter out from the shelter of our individual skill … it is inescapable when this happens that there are always more architects than engineers". [Note 25.]

One consulting engineer was reported to have said that because the architect's fee for a project was about three times that of the engineer's, if he wished to amalgamate with an architectural firm he would have to find one with a staff three or four times the size of his own, "and how many architects have a staff of two or three hundred?" A similar reasoning, applied in reverse, prevented the architectural firm of Yorke, Rosenberg and Mardall from employing its own engineers on the grounds that the resources they could maintain internally could never match the talent they could call in from outside. [Note 26.] Furthermore, multi-disciplinary work is not suitable for all types of personality. Armstrong and Jack in describing the successful operation of the Building Design Partnership state

"It has been noticeable in the BDP offices how much certain individuals in the engineering profession enjoy working within the team, whereas others are happier working in a more sequestered environment surrounded by their fellow professionals … Those who favour the professional group tend to be more reactionary, conservative and narrow-minded and, therefore, less inherently able people, and gradually it is hoped to diffuse the professional boundaries so that the individual in any profession is allowed to extend himself more completely to contribute effec tively in a total sense to the design team according to his talents, abilities and ambitions …" (1970, p.172.)

Martin, of Ove Arup and Partners stated that in the present circumstances it is still the architect who ends up 'boss' of the team, and it requires an exceptional individual to inspire the whole team. Often the architect is unable to do this, and the various members of the team go about their business automatically in the conventional manner.

In Ove Arup's office there were three types of engineer. The first made a long term commitment to a stable interdisciplinary group. Martin described this as being "almost like going into a monastery". The engineer tended to lose his distinct professional identity as he learned more about architecture and services and became able to turn his hand to any aspect of design. The disadvantages were that by its nature such a group is limited to projects of small to medium size, and that after a while the engineer found the work of the team's architect entirely predictable and thus less stimulating.

The second type of engineer was part of a multi-disciplinary team of engineers only. This was allocated to whatever architect happened to be concerned with a particular project. The work of such a team was therefore more varied and the size and composition of the group was more flexible.

The third type of engineer was the more conventional, with an interest in pure technology and a liking for the challenge of unusual and complex engineering structures such as transmission towers and large bridges. [Note 27.]

There are thus many possible styles of interaction between architects and engineers and the secret of success is perhaps to know which of them best suits the individual's personality.

Notes.

Note 1. The debate on the Montreal Olympic Stadiums was reported in Civil Engineering - ASCE, 1976, pp. 50-4.
Komendant (1975, p. xii) states of his relationship with Louis Kahn: "So I was the supporting actor to his leading, creative role with matching philosophy, aims, advanced engineering knowledge and practical experience". [Return.]

Note 2. Jencks (1973), p.30. This is based on his interpretation of Buckminster Fuller's approach (see his p.72). [Return.]

Note 3. Giedion wrote, admittedly with some condescension, and speaking of engineers of the calibre of Maillart: "All that is needed are architects who know how to stir the imagination of the engineer. The engineer is capable of fulfilling emotional needs just as he is capable of solving the most intricate practical problems". (1967, p.475.) [Return.]

Note 4. Architectural Record, mid-Aug. 1974, p.77. [Return.]

Note 5. This quotation is from Professor Veerhander's contribution. Another architect, Professor Hartkopf, said he was "amazed at how engineers completely delegate esthetics to an architect…" [Return.]

Note 6. An example occurs in New Civil Engineer, 12 Sept. 1974, p.12. However, Martienssen (1976, p.46) sees the recent flood of interest amongst engineers in their heritage, and a tendency to refuse the appellation 'architect' to the builders of Greece, Rome, and the middle ages, as a "scramble after ancestors for the portrait galleries of an arriviste society". [Return.]

Note 7. Architectural Record, mid-Aug. 1974, pp. 123 and 127. [Return.]

Note 8. Examples of cladding failures were found in Engineering News Record, 25 May 1978, pp. 9 and 15; Civil Engineering - ASCE, Aug. 1978, p.89; Architectural Review, Mar. 1977, pp. 149-50; New Civil Engineer, 21 July 1977, p. 21; Concrete, May 1979, 12-14; Scott (1976), pp. 50 and 58. (Note that engineers can take no more comfort than architects from the last source.) [Return.]

Note 9. In accepting the Gold Medal of the RIBA in 1966, Arup said: The architectural press, architectural critics and architectural students all get very excited about new sculptural forms, about Corb's latest visions, Miesian aesthetics or Louis Kahn's towers, but few seem interested in whether they work, in the people living in these masterpieces. We have all heard of unhappy people forced to occupy significant architectural statements. (Arup, 1966, p.355.) [Return.]

Note 10. Fry (1969), pp. 40-1 and Evenson (1966), Chapter XI, particularly pp. 77, 78, and 83. [Return.]

Note 11. BCSA (1970), pp. 177-8. The desire of engineers to perform calculations is reflected in the low success rate of schemes to establish repositories of standard designs for commonly-occurring structures such as highway overpass bridges. In theory these are to be filed away, pulled out of a drawer as required, and slightly modified for the task at hand. Engineers see this as reducing them to a purely administrative role and much prefer to design each new structure ab initio. A report sighted in the early 1960s concerning the failure of such a scheme in the USSR has proved untraceable (it was thought to be in the New Civil Engineer), but see New Civil Engineer, 1 June 1978, p.77. An article setting out the dangers of standardisation appeared on p.12 of the same journal, 22 June 1978. [Return.]

Note 12. When Mies van der Rohe's model housing development in the Afrikanerstrasse in pre-war Berlin was criticised as being too costly, Mies replied "Well, if my buildings are too expensive for the workers why don't you give the workers some more money?" Philip Johnson thought this was a delightful reply. "It's like saying 'Mies, why do you build all your buildings of glass when it gets so hot behind the glass?' Mies says 'Well, why don't you air-condition the building?' I find it a delightful way to slice through [the problem]." (Cook and Klotz, 1973, p.35.) [Return.]

Note 13. Professor John Gero, Department of Architectural Science, University of Sydney, private communication. [Return.]

Note 14. A further example was provided by the main stadium for the Lake Placid winter Olympics where the designers were forced by cost considerations and site limitations to employ large trusses for the roof. The architects stated that "with trusses we were concerned with what the building looked like from the front - it could have been very bland". They therefore specified tubular steel for all members and added prominent vertical trusses to the front elevation. The engineer "admitted" that the vertical trusses contributed little to the [mechanical] strength of the building. (New Civil Engineer, 29 Mar. 1979, pp. 32 and 33.) [Return.]

Note 15. Examples were located in Tor (1974) and Ahm (1970), p.23. [Return.]

Note 16. The typical viewpoint of the architect is characterised by Komendant (1975), pp. 23 and 24 in writing of his relationship with Louis I Kahn.
Note added 1995: Professor Jörg Schlaich was the partner in charge of this project for Leonhardt und Andrä. He played a large and creative role in helping Otto to modify Behnisch's original form so that it was mechanically feasible. He clashed strongly with Otto over this and matters of standardisation and 'detailing'. Schlaich's account may be found in Holgate, A. Jörg Schlaich - The art of structural engineering, Edition Axel Menges, Stuttgart, 1997. [Return.]

Note 17. Cook, P. The Engineers Intervene. Architectural Review, July 1983, 48-50. [Return.]

Note 18. See, e.g. Straub (1960), Chapter VII, Section 3, pp. 180-6; Collins (1965), Chapter 18; and Martienssen (1976), pp. 36-50. [Return.]

Note 19. Collins (1965), p.186 and Gimpel, J. Les batisseurs des cathédrals, Seuil, Paris, 1959. Collins (pp. 190 and 191) attributes this development to jealousy amongst architects of "the popular esteem in which engineering was held by a materialistic populace", and concern amongst engineers about popular criticism of their work on aesthetic grounds. [Return.]

Note 20. As the CEI/RIBA Education Group put it: "The professional structure … accentuated fragmentation by relating particular values and skills to the identity of a particular group, and the defence of these values and skills … became a kind of isolationism … As each discipline improved its own depth, and focussed more closely on its own problems, it became less intelligible and less accessible to the others." (CEI/RIBA 1968, p.152.) Fry expresses similar regrets about the way in which his profession "built a high wall around its membership" with the introduction of registration for architects (Fry 1969, p.91). [Return.]

Note 21. Le Corbusier (1923). (First quotation: Page 18 in the 1946 reprint. Second reference pp. 11, 186.) [Return.]

Note 22. Le Corbusier (1923). In the 1946 reprint, pp. 15-24, especially p.19. [Return.]

Note 23. Blake (1970). Pages not numbered. See pages preceding and following the photographs of the Cape Kennedy structures and the Saturn rocket. [Return.]

Note 24. Examples additional to those given below, were to be found in Middleton (1967) and New Civil Engineer 5 Aug. 1976. [Return.]

Note 25. The Consulting Engineer Vol. 33 (7), (July 1969), 44-5. [Return.]

Note 26. Yorke, Rosenberg and Mardall (1972), p.7. [Return.]

Note 27. Private discussion with Mr J. N. Martin, Ove Arup and Partners, London, 1984. [Return.]

Image Acknowledgements. Linked images, Chapter 8.

Grateful thanks to the following organisations which have made it possible to provide links to full colour photographs and descriptions of buildings for this chapter.
archINFORM Link.
Kevin Roche John Dinkeloo Associates LLC Link.
NASA Link.
Pritzker Prize. Link.
Punjab Assembly. Link.
Roger Taillibert. Link.

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