Origins: 1960-61 Based at the
Architectural Association in
London, the main members of the group were
Peter Cook,
Warren Chalk,
Ron Herron,
Dennis Crompton,
Michael Webb and
David Greene. Archigram formed late in the year 1960, shortly before the first issue of their magazine of the same name, which appeared in 1961. Designer
Theo Crosby was the "hidden hand" behind the group. He gave them coverage in
Architectural Design magazine (where he was an editor from 1953 to 1962), brought them to the attention of the Institute of Contemporary Arts (ICA) in London, where, in 1963, they mounted an exhibition called
Living City, and in 1964 brought them into the Taylor Woodrow Design Group, which he headed, to take on experimental projects. The pamphlet
Archigram I was printed in 1961 to proclaim their ideas. Their first magazine experimented with modular technology, mobility through the environment, space capsules, and consumer-culture imagery. On release, they were highly praised for their optimistic inspirations of a glamorous, high-tech future. Social and environmental issues were, however, left largely unaddressed. The group tapped into the zeitgeist captured by Richard Hamilton in his "
This Is Tomorrow" exhibition in 1956 at the Whitechapel Art Gallery, by Pop Art, by the turned-on, tuned-in psychedelic counterculture, and by the gnomic pronouncements of the media theorist
Marshall McLuhan. Then, too, some of its guiding principles were premonitory of what the politically radical French avant-garde would later call
Situationism. In the Living City exhibition, Archigram "collected images from any part of the city—the accepted Pop iconography of spacemen ... but presented them in a way and with a message that was new to architecture," Jencks writes, in
Modern Movements in Architecture. The city was seen not as architecture (hardware), but as people and their "situations" (software). It was these infinitely variable and fleeting situations which gave the real life to the city: in this sense "the home, the whole city, and the frozen pea pack are all the same." Not only are they all expendable, but they are all products which interact with man in the same level,
the situation. Archigram agitated to prevent modernism from becoming a sterile orthodoxy, rendered safe by its adherents. Contrary to
Buckminster Fuller's notion of "
ephemeralization," which assumes more must be done with less and less (because material resources are finite), Archigram presumes a future of inexhaustible resources.
Mid-'60s According to Jencks, Archigram's "extraordinary inventiveness" and delirious, Pop sci-fi imagery attracted international media attention throughout 1963–65. The group designed cities "that looked like computers and molehills, that crawled on the shoots of a telescope like
Eduardo Paolozzi's Bug-Eyed Monsters, that bobbed under the sea like so many skewered balloons, that sprouted—swock!—out of the sea like a Tom Wolfian, hydraulic umbrella, that zoomed down from the clouds flashing 'Destroy-Man! Kill-All-Humans,' a space-comic-robot-zaap, that clicked into place along pneumatic tubes, a plug-in plastic layer cake, that gurgled and spluttered over the old city like creeping, cancerous, testubular, friendly
Daleks." "The strength of Archigram's appeal," wrote the architecture critic and historian
Reyner Banham, "stems from many things, including youthful enthusiasm in a field (city planning) which is increasingly the preserve of middle-aged caution. But chiefly it offers an image-starved world a new vision of the city of the future, a city of components on racks, components in stacks, components plugged into networks and grids, a city of components being swung into place by cranes."
Late '60s By 1967, in works like
Control and Choice Living (1967), the group had turned its attention to the question of exploiting, in architecture and urban planning, those "systems, organizations, and techniques that permit the emancipation and general good life of the individual" within "a high-density location," writes Jencks. "The solution was a minimal set of fixed elements which increased in flexibility from the permanent pylons to the completely flexible 'air-habs.' The latter invention was a combination un-house and blow-up satellite (that is, an air-inflatable satellite)" of seemingly infinite possibility. The inhabitant "could dial out a room or if this were not desired drive the electric car into it and sprout out a room within a room. In effect, the services robot is now decentralized to include every part of the house." At this point, Archigram lacked evidence of actualizing society in their cities. "Labor was, in general, absent from this show as was any discussion of the naturalization of the bourgeois male experience." They detailed the journals with cultural references to advertisements, a visual representation style that influenced a new generation of digital graphics, but, "without any recognition of the kind of work involved in creating objects of desire for the presumptively male consumer. These formal tactics and social blind spots are evidence of Archigram members' lack of interest in distinguishing between the political confrontation of architectural activists[.]"
1970s By the early 1970s, the group had changed its strategy. In 1973, wrote Theo Crosby, its members had "found their original impulses towards megastructures blunted by the changing intellectual climate in England, where the brash dreams of modern architects are received with ever-increasing horror. They are now more concerned with the infiltration of technology into the environment at a much less obvious level." Some saw implications of having grand moving mechanics, easily manufactured parts (concepts central to Archigram) as naive approximations of what the future might look like. Most projects that utilized moving parts and adaptable concepts fell short at the implementation of those ideas into society that expected buildings to remain static. "By 1972,
Robert Venturi and
Denise Scott Brown could no longer take Archigram seriously," writes Simon Sadler, in
Archigram: Architecture without Architecture. He quotes their landmark critique of postmodern architecture,
Learning from Las Vegas, published that year: “Archigram’s structural visions are Jules Verne versions of the Industrial Revolution with an appliqué of Pop-aerospace terminology.” Supporters praised their ingenuity despite lacking practical uses. "Three years later," writes Sadler, the architecture critic Martin Pawley argued that Archigram "stood for 'an existential technology for individuals that the world will, in time, come to regard with the same awe as is presently accorded to the prescience of Jules Verne, H. G. Wells, or the Marquis de Sade. Futile to complain (as many do),‘But they never build anything.’ Verne never built the Nautilus, Wells could hardly drive a car, and the Marquis de Sade?” ==Projects==