The Joke’s on You: The Brilliant Wit and Bitter Truth Behind Architectural Satire

Can architecture be funny? Sure. There have been many instances in recent history in which buildings have stirred smirks, chuckles, and outright laughter, from China’s curious penchant for replicating quaint Western villages in their own backyard to Zaha Hadid’s suggestively shaped stadium for the 2022 World Cup in Qatar. The issue with these examples, of course, is that people are generally sniggering at the buildings and their designers rather than with them. Is it possible to create architecture that is dry-witted, sarcastic — snarky, even — the kind that seems to be laughing right back at you?

The brains behind experimental studio Design With Company are masters of this particular niche. Undertaking a self-proclaimed “architectural adventure,” Stewart Hicks and Allison Newmeyer take great joy in the creation of humorous designs with a dark, knowing undertone: their provocative concepts are carefully crafted to mock the world around them, provoking people to question their preconceptions about the urban landscape. This approach has never been more nuanced than in the firm’s latest collection of drawings and models recently unveiled as part of the “Bold” exhibition at the inaugural Chicago Architecture Biennial.

“Late Entry to the Chicago Public Library Competition,” Design With Company, Chicago, 2015

Their presentation, entitled “Late Entry to the Chicago Public Library Competition,” takes inspiration from the controversial contest to design the Harold Washington Library Center in Chicago back in 1987. More than 20 outlandish proposals are put forward, each paying tongue-in-cheek homage to the city’s many architectural fiascos from throughout the last few decades. If it is possible to create a physical manifestation of satirical comedy, this is surely it.

“Late Entry to the Chicago Public Library Competition,” Design With Company, Chicago, 2015

Highlights include a call for the library to feed off the controversy of the ostentatious “TRUMP” signage from Donald’s glittering tower. Design With Company suggests that the general public be given naming rights for countless urban components across the city, unleashing a civic cry of “I am Spartacus.” Then, there are the owls that adorn the roof of the Harold Washington Library. The studio takes this feathered metaphor of wisdom and knowledge to its logical conclusion: “The owls are the most distinctive part of the building, so we’re proposing to make the entire thing from a parliament of owls.”

The Monument to Bruce: “Celebration marked the first hoisting of the ball. It was destined to become the greatest landmark Chicago had seen.”

These meticulously detailed axonometric drawings and 3D-printed models instantly bring forth a wry smile for everyone who approaches. Design With Company has developed a delightfully perverse brand of architectural discourse, and the Chicago Biennial project is far from the first to channel such wit. The firm’s response to the destruction of the iconic Prentice Women’s Hospital in Chicago was typically rebellious: “The Monument to Bruce” is a form of architectural tabernacle that contains the wrecking ball used to take down the brutalist structure. This ironic glorification of destructive power is at once humorous and tragic, a farce laced with bitter truth — the definition of great satire.

Farmland World: “Guests can choose to ride the Animal Farmatures, the dual-natured farm implements that complete traditional farm tasks while performing grand rural-techno spectacles.”

The same goes for the studio’s commentary on the American agricultural industry, which takes the shape of a surreal, vaguely foreboding theme park named Farmland World. Pitched as “a chain of agro-tourist resorts sprinkled across the American Midwestern countryside,” Farmland World is half theme park, half working farm, and visitors are bound to participate in the industrial harvesting of animal products: “Guests perform daily chores as self-imposed distractions from the toil of their daily lives.” The premise forms a comical but strangely ominous exploration of labor, leisure, and psychological conditioning, treading the line between rural utopia and industrial dystopia.

Each project ingeniously captures that which all satire strives for: humorous criticism that has the capability of raising joy in all who witness it while simultaneously sparking rage at the wider social and economic shortcomings of our built environment. A thin veneer of juvenility coats multiple layers of sharp analysis on a wide range of contentious issues faced by contemporary cities and their inhabitants. Design With Company has proven that architecture can indeed be funny. But, as with every great comedy, it is frequently overcast with the looming clouds of tragedy.