Cover image generated by Archinect/Midjourney

For too long, we have incessantly glorified freshly-poured concrete Romanesque columns and marveled over crumpled-paper-inspired museums. This isn’t real architecture. The real architecture that is worth observing, touching, feeling, admiring, studying, critiquing, and understanding is the one that lives in the unassuming shadows. The type made for ordinary people with ordinary lives; one that seeks not to occupy the cover of architectural digest, but to improve the lives of those who have been marginalized, under-designed-for or forgotten. Architecture where the artist fought for a little more sunlight, a little more fresh air—a little more space to plant a tiny tree that blossoms during gloomy, winter days, inspiring hope where it was seemingly lost. It is these artists and these battles that need our acknowledgement, our praise, and our motivation so that they may continue to design a better world.

In speaking of architecture from the fringes, let us consider the architecture pertaining to the Muslim world: one that has long been forgotten, veiled, and seen as archaic. The widely-accepted Western narrative cuts Muslim contributions out of modern history. From this perspective, since the golden era of the Fatimid Caliphate in the 12th century, the Muslim world has seemingly had little architectural impact on the West except perhaps for its geometric patterns, coffee houses, and Persian rugs. This perspective is polarizing and dangerous for both sides. As often we have seen, the labels given by the West and many Colonial empires seem to hold true by former colonies and appropriated cultures. 

... not only can architecture from the Muslim world compete in a global arena; it can also pave the way for a more sustainable, creative, and equitable future for all

In 1977, the Aga Khan developed a creative vision to change this lack of understanding (for both sides) and a path to represent underrepresented architecture. He created the Award for Architecture (AKAA), which brings light to the projects that otherwise dwell unrecognized in the shadows. In addition to spotlighting these hidden gems, the award seeks to find inspiration from unexpected places, and especially from the Islamic world. The AKAA follows a unique process that differs from any other award. With this practice, the award has proven that not only can architecture from the Muslim world compete in a global arena; it can also pave the way for a more sustainable, creative, and equitable future for all. 

The Plague

The Western definition of architecture is, in many ways, limited in its scope. The AKAA seeks to disenfranchise the modern, elitist, Western definition and understanding of architecture. The term “architect” itself is relatively new—it was derived in the mid-16th century from the French term architecte and the Italian term architetto. Traveling further back in time, these words come from the ancient Greek term arkhitektn, meaning “chief builder.” 

The AKAA seeks to disenfranchise the modern, elitist, Western definition and understanding of architecture

In contrast to this definition, nothing could be further from the truth when it comes to our built environment. This notion of architecture that is evoked in educational institutions, architectural firms, and most famous architecture prizes represents a very small percentage of real architecture in this world. Most modern schools of architecture focus on only the last few hundred years of architectural history, which includes popular styles like medieval, renaissance, baroque, gothic, modern, art deco, postmodern, and a few others. These genres chiefly study the impressive religious and civic structures that have come to define civilizations and empires in the West. These schools of thought (quite literally) mistakenly ignore the fact that most architecture is actually composed of homes, hospitals, community centers, universities, nurseries, playgrounds, gardens, corner stores, coffee shops, and even alleyways. These cornerstones and anchor tenants of the built environment have been designed and constructed for thousands of years by diverse communities across the planet, and are central to how most humans experience architecture. Most importantly, these practical designs certainly do not require a “chief builder” in their creation. 

The Revival 

Established in 1977, by His Highness the Aga Khan, the Aga Khan Award for Architecture (AKAA) has selected a staggering 122 recipients spanning 41 countries, and 14 award cycles. Throughout the entire nomination process, more than 9,000 building projects have been submitted and documented. Over the last 43 years, architects including the likes of Zaha Hadid, Norman Foster, Charles Correa, Frank Gehry, Jean Nouvel, and Hassan Fathy have served on the nomination committee. 

It wasn’t until I had the opportunity to sit with Farok Normahmad who has led the operations of the award since 1977, that I truly appreciated the impact beyond the numbers. Like any new idea, the AKAA’s reputation and scale were gradually built over time. Key challenges arose as the award gained greater popularity across regional boundaries. Especially during the 1970’s when postmodernism, deconstructivism, and brutalism were very much alive. During the early days of the award, the vocabulary of architects and existing architectural awards did not make reference to discourses of Islam, vernacular materials, restoration, or social and environmental challenges, many of which we now see today. Initially, the AKAA struggled to open communication in other territories due to the global architectural narrative, which was not inclusive or privy to these conversations. Conversations regarding restoration and low-income housing were at odds with discussions about skyscrapers and seminal civic structures. However, like a new startup looking to disrupt an incumbent market, the award persisted and persevered, eventually growing into one of the most prominent architectural awards in the world today. 

Eventually, many awards followed suit, the Pritzker awarding Alejandro Aravena, the Alvar Aalto awarding Bijoy Jain, and the RIBA awarding David Adjaye. Though we still have a long way to go, it is evident that we have seen incredible growth in inclusion and diversity amongst the top awards recipients. The conversation about truly impactful design continues to accelerate by a flame that was lit 44 years ago. 

How is it that one such award can have such a profound impact? Well, for starters, the very thinking behind the award at its inception was different than any other award. As quoted by His Highness the Aga Khan, “The Award was designed, from the start, not only to honour exceptional achievement, but also to pose fundamental questions. How, for example, could Islamic architecture embrace more fully the values of cultural continuity, while also addressing the needs and aspirations of rapidly changing societies? How could we mirror more responsively the diversity of human experience and the differences in local environments? How could we honour inherited traditions while also engaging with new social perplexities and new technological possibilities?”

What was AKAA’s secret sauce?

At a time when environmentalism was just beginning to be discussed, when the Arab world was still very much misunderstood by the West, and a battle for creating the tallest skyscraper was well underway by the world’s leading economies, the Aga Khan took a uniquely unpopular stance and ultimately shifted the momentum. How did he actually achieve this aside from coming up with such an original idea? Three core decisions made this award very different from the rest. (1) who would be awarded, (2) who would make the award decisions, and (3) how the award decisions would be made. 

First and foremost, rather than awarding glass skyscrapers and the solo architect at the top of the pyramid, he decided it was time to think differently. Often, the “starchitect” or high-profile architect earned the primary focus of the architectural community. The vast majority of architecture is not constructed by “starchitects”; projects typically involve successful collaborations between many stakeholders; therefore, the AKAA recognizes not only architects, but also mayors, builders, clients, master craftsmen, and engineers. This award levels the playing field, finally giving brick layers the same tribute and acknowledgment as the “master builder” or more accurately described as the “choreographer” of the project. 

Second, the AKAA award committee brings together a diverse base of architects, planners, engineers, sociologists, academics, and practitioners who come from different schools of thought, geographies, and cultural backgrounds, and who are the very best in their field. In this way, it is able to create an ecosystem that can bring to light architecture that truly spans the corners of the world and that innovatively addresses many critical challenges faced by marginalized societies. 

Thirdly, the AKAA is highly regarded for its ability to adapt and stay relevant in a rapidly-evolving world. It accomplishes this through a strategic and innovative process, which was carefully designed and developed at the award’s inception in 1977. Three bodies—the Steering Committee, the Jury, and the Experts—have a strategic interplay that allows the award to be both transparent and flexible.

Three bodies—the Steering Committee, the Jury, and the Experts—have a strategic interplay that allows the award to be both transparent and flexible

At the onset of each new cycle, the Steering Committee will gather and create a brief to be shared with The Jury. Next, the Jury uses this brief to determine selection criteria. This arm’s-length collaboration of the Jury and Steering committee creates a refined and rigorous set of criteria by which the award can be judged. It is also important for the diverse and strategically-selected Jury to get to know each other. Each time they meet, they develop a stronger relationship; this allows their perspectives to be shared and mutually understood, while their differing ideas enable a rigorous yet balanced selection process. 

Once the selection criteria are established, the AKAA is opened for nominations. A range of projects from all around the globe is submitted. The application material includes a video, written report, and photography. Once initially reviewed, projects are shortlisted by the Jury before being submitted for a technical review. The Experts will spend a few days on each project, during which they conduct qualitative (interviews of key stakeholders, ethnography, photography, etc.) and quantitative research (technical considerations including energy, structural, etc.). They then create a detailed report that is shared with the Jury, who has a chance to read this report and question the Experts. The Jury then decides upon a list of final candidates, which is submitted to the Steering Committee for a final decision. This process is designed to be both rigorous and dynamic. With a strategic process, it is able to remain dynamic, thoughtful, and current in its times as well as value very diverse perspectives in order to more meaningfully award and thus inspire creative designs that invoke truly sustainable and equitable environments. 

What comes next?

In this world, an incredible force supports the forces of “starchitecture,” Western-centric ideals, and dehumanizing architecture—all dominating factors that have been creeping into the far reaches of the globe. In response, something powerful and impactful had to be designed. The AKAA was created to achieve this goal, offering a creative and scalable solution to fight against these vast forces that erode the very fabric of our built environments and rich cultures. It is clear that the Award has had a transformational impact on how we reward, understand, analyze, appreciate, and create human-centered architecture. All the while bringing awareness to architecture in the Muslim world and perhaps reigniting a design mecca that was seemingly forgotten. The AKAA has undoubtedly initiated and fuelled a movement within the architectural world that is more human, more authentic, and more democratic than any before. 

Now a battle of two worlds is underway. Can the unassuming shadows build enough momentum to overtake capitalistic towers? Can bricklayers battle cranes? Can bamboo cut steel? Unfortunately, likely not; however, the most important battles in history have never truly been fought with materials but with ideas. If authenticity is to win this, it must fight strategically. It must fight with better storytelling, with partnerships, with ideas so compelling they ignite an army of a million designers. The true winner of this battle will not just get to create the world we live in, but the very lives we lead, and the humanity we become.