Rita Felski, Postcritique, and Iconic Architecture

Iconic architecture has become one of the most visible emblems of contemporary capitalism, urban branding, and cultural spectacle, prompting an outpouring of critical writing that seeks to unmask its complicities with neoliberalism, consumerism, and political vanity.¹²³⁴ At the same time, this body of criticism often relies on the very style of interpretation that Rita Felski has called into question in her influential work on the limits of critique, the hermeneutics of suspicion, and the need to take seriously forms of aesthetic attachment and everyday experience.⁵⁶⁷⁸⁹ Imagining how Felski would critique iconic architecture therefore does not mean simply adding another denunciation of spectacular museums and “starchitects”; rather, it invites us to ask what is at stake in the dominant critical discourse around such buildings, how suspicion itself has become an orthodoxy, and what alternative modes of engagement might allow us to understand the social meanings of iconic architecture more fully.⁶¹⁰⁸⁹ This report therefore brings Felski’s postcritical project into conversation with architectural debates about iconicity, drawing on work by Leslie Sklair, Deyan Sudjic, Tom Dyckhoff, Nasr and Mandour, and others, in order to reconstruct a plausible Felskian critique of both iconic architecture and the ways it is interpreted.^5611123412 I will argue that Felski would be less concerned with condemning iconic buildings as such than with interrogating the habits of suspicion that dominate architectural criticism, while simultaneously insisting on the need to account for how people become “hooked” on buildings, form attachments to them, and experience them as part of their lifeworlds.^13101489 In doing so, her perspective opens space for a more nuanced, ambivalent, and phenomenologically attentive understanding of iconic architecture that neither celebrates it uncritically nor reduces it to a mere instrument of capitalist hegemony.⁶¹⁰¹²

Iconic Architecture Meets Postcritique: Framing the Question

Any attempt to speculate on how Felski would critique iconic architecture must start from the basic orientation of her work, which is directed less toward particular aesthetic objects than toward the methods and moods that shape how we interpret them.⁵⁶⁷ In her book The Limits of Critique, Felski sets out to analyze critique as a pervasive ethos in the humanities, characterized by suspicion, detachment, and a focus on unveiling hidden structures of domination.⁵⁸ She describes critique as a “set of practices for reading and interpreting texts, a mode of thought and argument, a rhetorical style, and an affective or emotional stance,” all of which reinforce one another in sustaining a commitment to what Paul Ricoeur termed the “hermeneutics of suspicion.”⁶⁷⁸ Rather than being just one interpretive option among others, critique, in her account, has acquired a charismatic authority and often presents itself as the only properly sophisticated or serious way of engaging with works of art or culture.⁵⁶⁸ The question then becomes: what happens if we apply this meta-critical lens not to literary texts but to the discourse surrounding iconic buildings, which have themselves been intensively critiqued as ideological spectacles of global capitalism?¹²³⁴¹²

Architectural and urban theory over the last three decades has produced a rich vocabulary for analyzing what is now regularly termed “iconic architecture,” typically referring to visually striking, highly branded buildings designed by well-known architects and deployed as instruments of urban competitiveness.¹²³⁴¹² Leslie Sklair, for example, argues that a new genre of iconic architecture has emerged in tandem with an “emergent transnational capitalist class,” emphasizing that the contemporary icon is now corporate to an unprecedented extent and deeply entangled with the agents and institutions of capitalist globalization.¹² Tom Dyckhoff, in The Age of Spectacle, similarly describes how “money now drives architecture,” noting that since the so‑called “Bilbao effect” every city seems to desire its own attention‑grabbing building, often with disappointing architectural results when investors privilege iconic impact over quality, context, or public value.¹⁵³ Deyan Sudjic has debated whether we can “still believe in iconic buildings,” pointing to British critics’ disgust for “exhibitionistic iconic design” and the perception that self‑cancelling gestures by celebrity architects undermine urban coherence.¹³¹⁶⁴ More recently, Nasr and Mandour have argued that the term “iconic” has come to be associated with irrational formal eccentricity, with sustainability and functional performance often sacrificed in the pursuit of signature forms.¹¹

All of these accounts, in one way or another, exemplify the very style of critical engagement that Felski examines: a hermeneutics of suspicion that looks behind the glossy surfaces of iconic buildings to expose their links to corporate consumerism, political vanity, and global inequality.^56123412 There is much in this orientation that Felski would recognize as valuable, given her acknowledgment that critique has many virtues and can powerfully highlight injustice and domination.⁵⁸ Yet she also contends that the habitual reliance on suspicion can become constraining, leading critics to anticipate the same kinds of hidden motivations and structural complicities across disparate cases, and making it difficult to account for other dimensions of aesthetic experience, such as attachment, enchantment, and recognition.^611131089 If we translate this concern into the architectural field, we might say that the prevailing critique of iconic architecture risks flattening out the variety of ways in which people engage with such buildings, reducing their significance to a single narrative of neoliberal spectacle and thereby overlooking how they are lived with, enjoyed, contested, and appropriated by diverse publics.

Felski’s more recent work on “postcritique” further clarifies that her aim is not to abolish critique but to “work through its limits,” acknowledging both what it has achieved and what it cannot do.¹⁰ In a 2023 essay, she describes postcritique as breaking the hold of a coercive binary between being critical and uncritical, insisting that one can neither simply reject critique nor perpetuate it as the only legitimate stance.¹⁰ Instead, postcritique calls for a broader repertoire of interpretive moods and methods, including more affirmative vocabularies and serious attention to everyday lifeworlds.¹⁰ When we consider iconic architecture through this lens, the question becomes less “Is iconic architecture good or bad?” and more “How does our critical treatment of iconic architecture itself function, what attachments does it engender or disavow, and how might we articulate alternative engagements that neither celebrate nor demonize it?” In this sense, imagining how Felski would critique iconic architecture involves a double move: interrogating the suspicious hermeneutics that shape architectural criticism and simultaneously exploring the possibilities of more attuned, attachment‑based, and phenomenological approaches to these buildings.

Rita Felski’s Project: From Suspicion to Attachment

The Hermeneutics of Suspicion and Its Stakes

Central to Felski’s reorientation of the humanities is her engagement with Paul Ricoeur’s notion of the “hermeneutics of suspicion.” Ricoeur coined this phrase to describe a shared spirit in the writings of Marx, Freud, and Nietzsche, whom he saw as forming a “school of suspicion” committed to unmasking the “lies and illusions of consciousness” and uncovering less visible, less flattering truths behind surface appearances.⁶ Felski adopts this concept as a way of characterizing the prevailing ethos of critique in literary and cultural studies, where critics routinely distrust manifest meanings and instead seek to reveal structures of domination, ideology, and power beneath them.⁶⁷⁸ Suspicion, in this account, is not a specific theory but a mood and method: it shapes the tone of critical writing, the kinds of questions deemed interesting, and the assumptions about what it means to engage seriously with culture.⁵⁶⁷

In The Limits of Critique, Felski argues that this hermeneutics of suspicion has become so pervasive that it now functions as a default, even when critics are no longer explicitly Marxist or psychoanalytic.⁵⁶⁷ She notes that traditions of folk suspicion, where ordinary people mistrust elites or institutions, have been “overlain with a newly assertive and confrontational language of political critique,” which is often couched in sophisticated theoretical vocabularies.⁷ Suspicion has thus been elevated into a kind of professional ethos, associated with the intellectual virtue of being critical and standing at a distance from one’s object.⁵⁶ The stakes of suspicion, in her view, are double‑edged: on the one hand, it has enabled powerful analyses of domination and injustice; on the other hand, its habitual deployment can narrow the range of questions asked and foreclose other ways of relating to works of art.⁵⁶⁷⁸

Felski is careful to emphasize that she is not advocating naïveté or unthinking celebration; rather, she worries that the rhetoric of suspicion tends to cast the critic as an enlightened detective who sees through what ordinary viewers or readers might enjoy and thereby risks reproducing a hierarchical relationship between the critic and the public.⁵⁶⁸ Suspicion becomes a marker of intellectual status: to be critical is to be serious, while to be captivated, enchanted, or attached may be dismissed as sentimental or complicit.¹³⁸⁹ This dynamic has clear analogues in the architectural field, where critics often pride themselves on not being taken in by spectacular forms and on exposing the economic and political forces behind iconic buildings.¹²³⁴¹² From a Felskian perspective, the question would be not whether such exposure is necessary—it obviously is—but whether it has become so dominant that other modes of engagement are marginalized or discredited.

The Limits of Critique: False Idols and Narrow Repertoires

Felski’s critique of critique is grounded in the argument that this mode of interpretation has become a kind of “false idol” in the humanities, invested with more authority and expectation than it can reasonably fulfill.⁸ In her view, critique has been asked to carry too many burdens: it is supposed to be methodologically rigorous, politically transformative, theoretically sophisticated, and affectively proper, all at once.⁵⁸ This overinvestment produces several problems. First, the insistence on hidden meanings and underlying structures can lead critics to anticipate certain kinds of answers—capitalism, patriarchy, racism—before they even begin their analysis, making it difficult to be surprised by texts or to attend to their singularities.⁵⁶⁸ Second, critique’s reliance on the language of “guilt and complicity,” as Felski has put it, encourages a moralizing tone where the critic continually uncovers how cultural objects are implicated in oppressive systems, but rarely considers how they might also enable forms of attachment, pleasure, or recognition that matter to people’s lives.¹⁷⁸

In chapters such as “Context Stinks!” Felski questions the extent to which contextualization has become an unquestioned good, arguing that the imperative to situate texts within elaborate historical or social frameworks can sometimes obscure rather than illuminate their aesthetic or experiential dimensions.⁵ Contextualization, in her account, can take on a punitive tone, with the critic seeking to demonstrate that a work’s apparent charms are in fact compromised by their participation in larger structures of power.⁵⁸ Applied to iconic architecture, this concern does not mean rejecting contextual analysis; indeed, the work of Sklair and others on the transnational capitalist class exemplifies a rich, nuanced contextualization that reveals how iconic buildings are produced and marketed.¹² Rather, Felski’s point would be to ask whether the language of context in architectural criticism has become so tightly bound to suspicion that icons can only ever appear as symptoms of neoliberalism or instruments of hyperconsumerism, thereby eliding other kinds of meaning.

A further limit of critique, for Felski, is its uncertain political efficacy. She notes that while critics often assume that unveiling hidden structures contributes to emancipation, it is not clear that suspicious interpretations actually change minds or foster solidarity.⁵¹⁰⁸ In some contexts, she suggests, it may be more strategically wise to “rein in the impulse to judge or condemn” and to focus instead on building cross‑class coalitions, empathy, and shared vocabularies.¹⁰ When transferred to the urban field, this question becomes particularly salient: does the relentless denunciation of iconic architecture as capitalist spectacle help or hinder efforts to address urban inequality, environmental degradation, or cultural exclusion?¹²³⁴¹² A Felskian critique would likely ask whether architectural criticism has become too attached to its own role as exposer of complicity and insufficiently attuned to how people actually live with and respond to iconic buildings in everyday life.

Postcritique: Working Through, Not Rejecting, Critique

In later work, including her essay “Postcritique: Past Influences and Present Conjunctures,” Felski clarifies that postcritique is not a rejection of critical traditions but a way of working through their limits.¹⁰ She traces a history of dissatisfaction with critique in cultural studies and sociology, noting affinities between postcritical thought in literary studies and the current generation of Frankfurt School theorists, who have shown heightened interest in everyday lifeworlds and more expansive affirmative vocabularies.¹⁰ Importantly, she stresses that postcritique presumes knowledge of critique; one cannot simply abandon the tools of suspicion, but one can question their ubiquity and explore complementary modes of engagement.¹⁰

Postcritique, in her account, seeks to break a “coercive binary” between being critical and being uncritical, a pseudo‑choice in which no one would voluntarily choose the latter.¹⁰ This binary allows critique to monopolize moral and intellectual legitimacy, casting other forms of response—such as admiration, enjoyment, empathy, or identification—as suspect.^5613108 Postcritique therefore encourages critics to experiment with different tonalities and methods, including more descriptive, phenomenological, or appreciative approaches, without giving up the ability to question or challenge.¹⁰ The key is reflexivity about one’s own interpretive habits and attention to the ways in which criticism itself is a cultural practice with its own attachments and affects.⁵⁶¹⁰⁸

For the question of iconic architecture, postcritique offers a particularly useful framework. It would allow us to retain the insights of Sklair’s analysis of capitalist globalization and Dyckhoff’s diagnosis of money‑driven spectacle, while also asking how people are captivated by buildings, how they form attachments to them, and how such attachments might contain both affirmative and ambivalent elements.¹²³ Felski’s work suggests that instead of only seeking to demystify iconic buildings, we might also explore the “devices” through which architecture hooks its audiences, including the ways in which buildings invite identification, facilitate attunement to place, and become nodes of memory and social interaction.¹³¹⁴⁹ In other words, a Felskian critique of iconic architecture would be simultaneously critical of the overreliance on suspicion in architectural discourse and attentive to the affective and experiential dimensions of people’s relationships to iconic buildings.

Hooked: Art and Attachment as a Model for Architectural Engagement

Felski’s book Hooked: Art and Attachment extends her interest in alternative modes of engagement by zeroing in on three “attachment devices” that connect audiences to works of art: identification, attunement, and interpretation.¹³⁹ She argues that works of art “make a difference in the world and matter—they act—because they create, or co‑create, enduring ties,” emphasizing that the social meanings of artworks are generated not just by critics but also by the responses of captivated audiences.¹³⁹ In this context, “being hooked” is reclaimed from its association with sticky sentiment or manipulative marketing; instead, Felski insists that being captivated is as central to the appreciation of high art as to the enjoyment of popular culture.¹³⁹ She challenges the ethos of critical aloofness that has shaped the self‑image of modern intellectuals, arguing that we write about works of art because we care about them and derive pleasure from them, not despite such attachments.¹³⁹

Transposing this framework to architecture, especially iconic architecture, opens up an intriguing set of questions. Iconic buildings are clearly designed to hook audiences: they aim to surprise, seduce, or enchant, whether through dramatic forms, unusual materials, or innovative spatial experiences.¹²³¹⁸ Urban branding strategies often rely on the assumption that people will form attachments to distinctive buildings, that they will feel proud of their city’s skyline or be drawn to visit certain structures as tourists.¹²³ Yet architectural criticism has tended to approach such attachments with suspicion, interpreting them primarily as symptoms of consumerism or ideological manipulation.¹²³⁴¹² A Felskian critique would urge us to analyze how these attachments actually work, what kinds of identifications they enable, how they attune people to their environment, and how they are negotiated among different social groups.¹³¹⁴⁹

In Hooked, Felski insists that examining artworks critically is neither the same as, nor opposed to, being hooked in other ways.¹³ This point is crucial for any postcritical engagement with iconic architecture. It suggests that one can be both aware of the economic forces behind a building and genuinely enchanted by its presence; that one can critique the inequities of global city competition while also acknowledging the joy some people feel in walking through a spectacular museum or gazing at an unusual tower.^131012318 Rather than treating such ambivalences as contradictions to be resolved in favor of suspicion, a Felskian approach would seek to describe and understand them, seeing attachments as complex, multi‑layered, and always potentially open to re‑evaluation.¹³¹⁴⁹

Iconic Architecture in Contemporary Discourse

Defining Iconic Architecture: Forms, Functions, and Labels

Before exploring how Felski might intervene in debates about iconic architecture, it is helpful to clarify what is meant by this term in current discourse. As Dyckhoff notes, most people have an intuitive sense of what “iconic architecture” refers to, even though the label does not necessarily correlate with good architecture.¹⁵³ Typically, iconic buildings are visually distinctive, often deploying “crazy caps” on high‑rise structures, unusual geometries, or sculptural forms that make them immediately recognizable.¹¹¹²¹² They are designed to stand out in the urban landscape, to attract attention, media coverage, and tourist interest, and to serve as symbols of a city’s ambition, modernity, or cultural status.¹²³⁴ Examples frequently cited include Frank Gehry’s Guggenheim Museum Bilbao, Norman Foster’s “Gherkin” in London, Zaha Hadid’s fluid museum designs, and countless other projects by high‑profile architects.⁴¹²¹⁸

Nasr and Mandour point out that the term “iconic” has, in many contemporary debates, become synonymous with “signature architecture” produced by “starchitects” whose names themselves function as brands.¹¹¹² Such buildings often prioritize formal innovation and visual impact, sometimes at the expense of programmatic or functional needs, environmental performance, or contextual sensitivity.¹¹¹² They note that critics have raised concerns about sustainability credentials and how some iconic structures are inimical additions to their surroundings, imposing alien forms that fail to engage with local urban fabric.¹¹ In their view, the word “iconic” ought to be reclaimed for architecture that is “gorgeous, efficient, a welcome appendage to the communal,” rather than simply a standout form.¹¹ This distinction echoes older debates about “duck” versus “decorated shed” in architectural theory, where the former refers to buildings whose form explicitly signifies their function, and the latter to more generic structures adorned with symbolic elements.⁵¹

Leslie Sklair offers a more systemic definition of contemporary iconic architecture, focusing on the ways in which buildings or spaces are ascribed iconicity due to their uniqueness or difference, and how this process is now deeply intertwined with the agents and institutions of an emergent transnational capitalist class.¹² He argues that while iconicity can take many forms, the particular genre that has proliferated in recent decades is characterized by spectacular uniqueness, often designed by globe‑trotting architects and funded by private capital in the service of private interests.¹² For Sklair, this kind of iconic architecture is part of what he calls “The Icon Project,” a global strategy by which corporations and cities use elaborate shopping malls, museums, and megaprojects as emblems and conduits of capitalist globalization.² These structures promote hyperconsumerism, reinforce corporate dominance of the built environment, and contribute to increasing inequality.²

From this perspective, iconic architecture is not simply a matter of aesthetics but a socio‑economic phenomenon that cannot be understood solely in terms of symbolic form.¹² The times, places, and audiences that make buildings iconic are shaped by complex networks of developers, city governments, media, and cultural institutions, all of which operate within the broader dynamics of global capitalism.¹² This emphasis aligns with critique’s focus on uncovering hidden structures and complicities, which, as we have seen, is also central to the hermeneutics of suspicion that Felski analyzes.⁶⁷¹² Yet Sklair also acknowledges that iconic buildings often provoke intense public responses, ranging from hostility to admiration, suggesting that their meaning cannot be reduced to their role in capitalist hegemony.⁶¹² This ambivalence will be important for a Felskian rethinking of iconic architecture.

Iconic Architecture and Capitalist Globalization

Sklair’s analysis in his 2006 article “Iconic architecture and capitalist globalization” and his 2017 book The Icon Project provides one of the most detailed accounts of how contemporary iconic architecture is embedded in global capitalist processes.¹² He argues that whereas monumental architecture in the past often had strong public or civic components, the urban ziggurats of today are primarily funded by private capital and serve private interests, even when they house cultural institutions or public spaces.² He identifies two major strains of iconic architecture: unique icons recognized as works of art, designed by figures like Gehry, Foster, Koolhaas, and Hadid, and successful derivative icons that copy elements of the starchitects’ work, thereby diffusing the aesthetic across multiple locations.² Both strains, he suggests, speak to the centrality of hyperconsumerism in contemporary capitalism, as they help brand cities and corporations, attract tourists and investment, and encourage consumption within and around the buildings.¹²

The “Bilbao effect” is perhaps the paradigmatic example of this dynamic. Gehry’s Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, opened in 1997, quickly became an instant icon, with its striking titanium curves and dramatic presence in the former industrial city.⁵¹²¹⁸ Calculations in 2017 suggested that the museum generates around €400 million per year for the local economy, more than meeting its objective of transforming Bilbao’s image.¹⁸ The project demonstrates how a single iconic building can catalyze urban regeneration, alter global perceptions of a city, and become a magnet for tourists.¹²¹⁸ Yet as critics have noted, Bilbao also has its detractors, some of whom claim that the museum is too dominant and that some of its spaces are ill‑suited to displaying art.¹¹¹⁸ Moreover, the attempt to replicate the Bilbao effect elsewhere has often led to projects that fail to deliver similar benefits for local communities, raising questions about the sustainability and equity of this strategy.¹²¹⁸

Dyckhoff emphasizes that since the Bilbao effect, “everyone wants a piece” of iconic architecture, leading to a situation in which it is now perfectly possible for wealthy individuals or institutions to commission their own iconic building, regardless of taste or broader urban considerations.¹⁵³ He observes that the role of an iconic building in this context is to bring more money: to stand out, draw attention, and thereby draw in business, whether in the form of tourists, shoppers, or corporate clients.¹⁵³ This process illustrates Sklair’s claim that iconic architecture has become a “weapon” in the struggle to solidify capitalist hegemony and reinforce transnational capitalist control over where we live, what we consume, and how we think.² It is precisely this kind of explanation that critique finds compelling: the building is interpreted as a material sign of underlying economic forces and ideological projects.¹²³⁴¹²

From a Felskian perspective, such analyses are crucial for understanding the structural conditions under which iconic architecture is produced and circulated.⁵⁶¹² However, she would likely also ask what gets left out when we focus predominantly on these structural accounts. How do people in Bilbao experience the Guggenheim in their everyday lives, beyond its role in city branding? How do residents navigate the tensions between economic regeneration and cultural dominance? What kinds of attachments or resistances emerge around the building, and how are these negotiated across different social and professional groups?^1310141218 These questions suggest the need to supplement a suspicious hermeneutics with an attentiveness to attachment, experience, and the mundane ways in which iconic buildings become part of the lifeworld.

Spectacle, Starchitecture, and the Critique of Excess

The discourse of “starchitecture” and the critique of spectacle further illustrate the predominance of suspicion in architectural writing about icons. The label “starchitect” has been applied to architects whose celebrity status allows them to command high fees, appear on shortlists for major competitions around the world, and shape urban skylines through visually daring designs.¹¹¹²¹² As noted by Nasr and Mandour, such architects often monopolize major commissions and produce edifices that seem to privilege formal experimentation over functional needs, with questions raised about sustainability and environmental performance.¹¹ The association of iconic architecture with “crazy caps” and “exaggerated sculptures” reflects a perception that spectacle has taken precedence over more valuable metrics such as efficiency, local context, and social inclusion.¹¹¹²

Articles like “The Fall of the Starchitect: Is the Age of the Celebrity Architect Finally Ending?” acknowledge that twenty years on from the Bilbao boom, the legacy of this period divides opinion.¹² Many critics now question the preoccupation of celebrity architects with shapes and sculptures, and some argue that the Bilbao effect is profoundly flawed as a model for improving cities.¹²¹⁸ Yet Ponzini’s research suggests that starchitecture has not actually gone away, with no indication that the trend of commissioning iconic buildings by celebrity architects is ending.¹² This persistence underscores the complex interplay between critical discourse and architectural practice: even as critics denounce spectacle, cities and clients continue to seek iconic buildings as markers of status and ambition.¹²³⁴¹²

Sudjic’s debate on whether we can still believe in iconic buildings captures this tension well.¹³¹⁶⁴ On the one hand, he acknowledges the distaste many British critics have for “exhibitionistic iconic design,” noting its obvious faults, including self‑cancelling gestures that upstage each other and destroy urban coherence.⁴ On the other hand, he also points out that some iconic buildings—such as Gehry’s work—have become beloved, that the Bilbao effect has generated substantial economic returns, and that journalists continue to feature these buildings year after year.¹⁶⁴ He suggests that many iconic buildings may be “failed one‑liners built under repressive situations,” but insists that these examples do not exhaust the genre, which is here to stay.¹⁶⁴ This ambivalence resonates with Felski’s argument that critical suspicion and attachment can coexist, and that critics themselves can be drawn to the very objects they scrutinize.⁵¹³¹⁰⁸

From the vantage point of postcritique, the current debate about starchitecture and spectacle appears as a vivid instance of critique’s reliance on the language of guilt and complicity.¹⁷⁸ Iconic buildings are framed as guilty: they are complicit in neoliberal urbanism, hyperconsumerism, and environmental harm.¹²³⁴¹² At the same time, critics and the public are also implicated: by admiring these buildings, by visiting their museums or shopping malls, by participating in the very forms of consumption the buildings encourage.¹²³ Felski might suggest that while this language has analytic value, it can also foster a moralizing tone that leaves little room to describe the complexities of attachment, including the possibility that people might derive genuine aesthetic or social value from iconic buildings even as they remain aware of their problematic aspects.^13101489

Critical Hostility and Defensive Apologia: Existing Polarities

The current discourse on iconic architecture is often polarized between hostile critique and defensive apologia. On one side, critics emphasize the wastefulness, vanity, and social costs of iconic projects, portraying them as symbols of elite self‑indulgence or corporate manipulation.¹²³⁴¹² On the other side, defenders stress their economic benefits, cultural contributions, and potential to inspire or enchant.^1612318 Sudjic’s debate, for example, stages a dialogue between a critic skeptical of iconic buildings and another who urges recognition of their continued significance and complexity.¹³¹⁶⁴ Nasr and Mandour, in calling for a “re‑suiting” of the word iconic, seek to distinguish genuinely worthwhile iconic architecture from mere formal extravagance.¹¹ Dyckhoff writes about the “rise and fall” of iconic architecture, suggesting that its prominence may be waning even as its underlying drivers remain.¹⁵³

Felski’s contribution to this debate would likely be less about choosing one side than about analyzing how the debate itself is structured by critical norms.⁵⁶¹⁰⁸ She might note, for instance, how both hostility and apologia can share an attachment to certain binaries: authentic versus spectacle, civic versus corporate, good versus bad architecture.¹¹¹²³⁴ These binaries mirror the critical/uncritical dichotomy she seeks to unsettle.¹⁰ In addition, she might ask what kinds of evidence and experience are considered legitimate in such debates. Economic data on the Bilbao effect are often invoked to defend iconic buildings, while critical essays emphasize structural inequalities.¹²³⁴¹⁸ Yet everyday accounts of how residents, workers, and visitors experience these buildings—how they navigate their spaces, what memories they attach to them, how they talk about them—are less visible, though they are precisely the kind of aesthetic responses that Hooked urges us to take seriously.¹³¹⁴⁹

In sum, the contemporary discourse on iconic architecture offers a rich field for a Felskian meta‑critique. It showcases the power of suspicion to unmask the entanglement of architecture and capitalism, but it also reveals how suspicion can become entrenched, how attachments are often treated as suspect, and how critical writing may struggle to account for the full range of meanings iconic buildings hold in people’s lives.^56101238 The next sections will explore more specifically how Felski’s concepts of suspicion, attachment, and postcritique could be used to reframe architectural criticism, suggesting how she might critique iconic architecture not only as an object but as a locus of critical practice.

How Felski Would Critique Critiques of Iconic Architecture

Suspicious Minds in Architecture Criticism

If we take seriously Felski’s account of critique as a “charismatic cultural actor” in the humanities, then we can begin to see architectural criticism of iconic buildings as participating in the same ethos.⁵⁶¹⁷⁸ Architects and critics often adopt a suspicious stance toward iconic architecture, seeking to reveal how these buildings are products of capitalist globalization, instruments of city branding, or expressions of political vanity.¹²³⁴¹² This suspicion is directed both at the buildings and at the discourses that promote them: glossy brochures, enthusiastic journalism, and marketing campaigns are treated as ideological veneers that hide more troubling realities of inequality, displacement, or environmental harm.¹²³⁴¹² The critic’s role, in this framework, is to “see through” the spectacle and expose the truth.

Felski would likely recognize this pattern as a paradigm example of the hermeneutics of suspicion.⁶⁷ The critic operates as an inspector, in the sense she analyzes in her chapter “An Inspector Calls,” who uncovers conspiracies and misdeeds behind seemingly innocuous cultural forms.⁵ This role is often imbued with moral and intellectual prestige: to be suspicious is to be alert, critical, and politically engaged.⁵⁶⁸ In architecture, this prestige is evident in the way critical essays position themselves against popular enthusiasm or municipal boosterism, presenting their findings as more sober, informed, and ethically serious.¹²³⁴¹² From a Felskian perspective, the problem is not that such suspicion is unwarranted—indeed, many iconic projects are deeply problematic—but that suspicion becomes the default lens, making it difficult to contemplate other possibilities.

One consequence of this default is what Felski calls the “monoglottal” nature of critique: its tendency to speak in a single, accusatory language, often centered on guilt, complicity, and ideological exposure.¹⁷⁸ Fraser and Rothman, in discussing “Beyond Critique” in contemporary art theory, explicitly cite Felski’s phrase about critique’s reliance on the language of guilt and complicity.¹⁷ In architectural criticism, similar patterns appear when iconic buildings are routinely described as complicit in neoliberal urbanism, reinforcing class inequalities, or eroding authentic public space.¹²³⁴¹² Such language can illuminate real injustices, but its repetition can also harden into formula, making it difficult to address cases that do not fit neatly into the expected narrative or to acknowledge ambivalent or positive experiences of iconic buildings.

Felski might therefore critique architectural criticism for its own attachments: its attachment to suspicion as a marker of intellectual virtue and its attachment to certain explanatory frameworks that prioritize structural complicity over other kinds of engagement.⁵⁶¹⁰⁸ She would not deny that iconic architecture is deeply entangled with capitalism; Sklair’s work demonstrates this convincingly.¹² However, she would ask whether the critic’s investment in exposing such entanglements sometimes prevents attentiveness to how people inhabit these buildings, how they might derive pleasure or meaning from them, and how these attachments coexist with awareness of structural problems.^13101489 In short, she would invite architectural critics to consider their own “suspicious minds” and to reflect on how their interpretive habits shape the questions they ask and the answers they deem legitimate.⁶⁷⁸

Guilt, Complicity, and the Narrowing of Engagement

The language of guilt and complicity plays a central role in Felski’s diagnosis of critique’s limits.¹⁷⁸ In her view, criticism often positions itself as a kind of moral tribunal, revealing the ways in which texts and readers are implicated in systems of power and thereby calling them to account.⁵⁶⁸ This tribunal can be highly effective in certain contexts, such as exposing racist or sexist tropes in literature. Yet when it becomes the dominant mode of engagement, it can narrow the range of possible responses and foreclose opportunities for more exploratory, descriptive, or appreciative forms of criticism.⁵⁶¹⁰⁸ The critic may become so focused on demonstrating complicity that other aspects of the work—its capacity to enchant, to offer recognition, to provoke thought—are sidelined.^11131489

Applied to iconic architecture, this dynamic is evident in discourses that emphasize how buildings like the Guggenheim Bilbao or the Gherkin participate in neoliberal urbanism, promote consumerism, and reinforce global inequalities.^12341218 For example, Sklair’s analysis of The Icon Project portrays iconic buildings as mechanisms for solidifying capitalist hegemony and controlling where we live, what we consume, and how we think.² Dyckhoff highlights how money drives architecture, and how investors’ focus on the iconic aspect often leads to worse architecture.¹⁵³ Such accounts underscore guilt (in the buildings and their sponsors) and complicity (in publics who are drawn to them), framing iconic architecture primarily as an instrument of domination.¹²³⁴¹²

A Felskian critique would not dispute the importance of these insights, but it would caution against letting them define the totality of our engagement.⁵⁶¹⁰⁸ Felski’s concept of “enchantment,” for instance, points to the ways in which cultural objects can captivate us, drawing us into an experience that is not easily reduced to ideological manipulation.¹¹¹⁴ She identifies enchantment as one of four modes of textual engagement, alongside recognition, knowledge, and shock, and argues that it allows readers to connect emotionally and feel absorbed by a work.¹¹ Translated to architecture, enchantment might describe the visceral, affective responses people have to walking through a building, experiencing its light, scale, acoustics, or views.¹³¹⁴⁹ Critics focusing solely on guilt and complicity may miss or dismiss such experiences, even though they are central to why people care about buildings.¹³¹⁴⁹

Felski might therefore call for an expansion of architectural criticism’s repertoire, allowing for descriptions of enchantment, recognition, and attachment alongside analyses of complicity.^1113101489 She would insist that the presence of enchantment does not exonerate a building from critique—icons can be both enchanting and complicit—but that understanding this duality is vital for grasping how architecture functions as a cultural actor.^13101489 In doing so, she would shift attention from solely judging iconic buildings to examining the varied ways in which they “set in motion” responses, actions, and ties among different audiences.¹⁶⁹

“Context Stinks!” and Architectural Historicism

In The Limits of Critique, Felski provocatively titles one chapter “Context Stinks!” in order to question the taken‑for‑granted virtue of contextualization in literary studies.⁵ Her argument is not that context is irrelevant but that the imperative to situate texts within historical or sociological frameworks has sometimes become an orthodoxy, with critics assuming that more context is always better.⁵⁸ She notes that contextualization can take on a punitive form, where the critic uses context to demonstrate a work’s moral or political shortcomings rather than to illuminate its complexity.⁵ This critique is meant to encourage reflection on when and how context is helpful, and to open space for more phenomenological or formal engagements that attend to the work itself.⁵⁶⁸

Architectural criticism and theory likewise place great emphasis on context, both in the sense of urban fabric and in the broader socio‑economic environment.¹²³⁴¹² Many critics of iconic architecture argue that such buildings fail precisely because they ignore or violate their context, imposing alien forms that disrupt existing patterns and communities.¹¹¹³⁴ They emphasize the need for architecture that is responsive to local culture, climate, and social needs, and they criticize icons for being designed with global audiences in mind rather than local users.^1113412 From this vantage point, context appears as a normative good: the more a building is attuned to its surroundings, the better.

A Felskian intervention would not deny the importance of contextual sensitivity; indeed, she might welcome architectural critiques that focus on how buildings engage with everyday life rather than merely with visual spectacle.¹⁰¹² However, she might also caution against assuming that contextual arguments are always on the side of justice or authenticity.⁵⁶⁸ For example, appeals to context can sometimes mask conservative preferences for established aesthetics or social orders, casting innovative architecture as destructive simply because it challenges familiar forms.⁵⁸ Similarly, critics may invoke context to dismiss the attachments people form to new buildings, assuming that local residents are duped or misled by spectacle rather than taking their experiences seriously.^13101489 In such cases, context functions as a rhetorical weapon rather than a descriptive tool.

Felski’s critique of contextualization invites architectural critics to reflect on their own uses of context: to ask when context helps clarify a building’s meaning, when it is deployed to discredit certain attachments or tastes, and how it interacts with other modes of engagement.⁵⁶⁸ She might suggest that instead of only situating iconic buildings within global capitalist networks, critics should also analyze how these buildings become part of local contexts through everyday use, storytelling, and memory.^131014129 Such an approach would align with postcritical interest in lifeworlds and in the mundane ways in which artworks exert influence.¹⁰¹⁴

Critique as Icon: The False Idol in Architectural Discourse

One of Felski’s most striking claims is that critique has become a “false idol,” a mode of interpretation to which the humanities have attached excessive expectations and authority.⁸ She suggests that critique itself functions like an icon: it is elevated, revered, and treated as essential to intellectual identity, even when its efficacy is uncertain.⁵⁸ This idea lends itself to a playful but serious reflection on architectural criticism: what if critique of iconic architecture has itself become iconic, a recognizable style that signals sophistication and moral seriousness?

The repeated denunciations of iconic buildings as spectacles of capitalism, and the frequent proclamations of the “death of the iconic age,” as Pevsner once proclaimed the terminal illness of movements he disliked, indicate that such critiques have become familiar tropes.¹³⁴ Sudjic notes how critics regularly announce the end of the iconic building, even as icons continue to be built and debated.¹³⁴ Dyckhoff’s narrative of the rise and fall of iconic architecture similarly draws on the appeal of historical turning points, suggesting that we are moving beyond an era of spectacle.¹⁵³ These tropes themselves may be understood as part of the iconography of critique: they offer satisfying narratives of exposure and decline, in which the critic plays the role of truth‑teller revealing the folly of architectural vanity.¹³¹⁵³⁴

Felski would likely encourage us to analyze this meta‑iconography. She might ask how the image of the critical architect or critic as resistant to spectacle functions within professional cultures, what forms of prestige or identity it confers, and how it shapes the kinds of projects that are valorized or condemned.⁵⁶¹⁰⁸ In this sense, critique itself becomes an object of analysis, much like an iconic building. Just as we can trace how the Eiffel Tower shifted from being hated to loved, becoming a symbol of Paris through changing attachments, we might trace how critical suspicion toward iconic architecture has itself evolved, becoming institutionalized in certain journals, schools, or networks.⁶¹⁶¹²⁴ This reflexive perspective does not invalidate critique but situates it as one practice among others, subject to its own histories and attachments.

To say that critique is a false idol is not to deny its value but to caution against overinvestment.⁸ In architectural discourse, overinvestment in suspicion may lead critics to assume that their role is primarily to expose and condemn, leaving little room for other practices such as describing, narrating, or exploring the lived meanings of buildings.⁵⁶¹⁰⁸ A Felskian critique of iconic architecture would therefore include a critique of the critical field itself, urging more diversity in methods and moods and calling for greater attention to attachment, experience, and everyday life.

Iconic Architecture as Object of Aesthetic Attachment

Being Hooked on Buildings: Enchantment and Everyday Response

One of the most fruitful ways to extend Felski’s work into architecture is to take seriously her concept of being “hooked” and the role of enchantment in aesthetic experience.^1113149 Enchantment, for Felski, refers to a mode of engagement in which a work of art captivates us, drawing us into a state of focused attention, pleasure, or wonder.¹¹ It is not necessarily irrational or passive; indeed, enchantment can coexist with critical reflection, but it involves a recognition that certain works exert a compelling pull on us, making us care about them.^1113149 Felski argues that the humanities have often downplayed or mistrusted such experiences, associating them with naïveté or sentimentality, whereas she insists that they are central to why we value art.¹³⁸⁹

Iconic architecture is arguably designed to enchant, at least in part. The Guggenheim Bilbao’s curving forms, shimmering surfaces, and dramatic spaces invite awe and surprise.⁵¹²¹⁸ The Sydney Opera House’s sails, the Eiffel Tower’s latticework, and Foster’s Gherkin’s sleek silhouette similarly evoke atmospheric effects that go beyond purely functional considerations.⁶¹²⁴¹⁸ Visitors often recount their experiences of these buildings in affective terms: being overwhelmed by scale, charmed by views, or moved by the play of light and materials.¹⁵³¹⁸ Such responses are evident in tourist photographs, social media posts, and personal narratives, even if they are rarely central in critical essays focused on political economy.¹²³¹⁸

A Felskian approach would seek to describe and analyze these experiences rather than dismiss them as mere consumerist seduction.^1113149 It would ask how people become hooked on buildings: what aspects of form, material, or spatial organization elicit enchantment, how different audiences respond, and how these responses intersect with other identities and practices.¹³¹⁴⁹ For example, residents of Bilbao may experience the Guggenheim differently from international tourists, attaching local meanings to the building’s presence in the city’s transformation.¹²¹⁸ Workers in the building may have more ambivalent attachments, balancing appreciation for its design with frustration at its functional limitations.¹¹¹⁸ These varied attachments are precisely the kind of aesthetic responses that Felski urges critics to take seriously.¹³¹⁴⁹

Importantly, enchantment does not preclude awareness of structural issues. One can be enchanted by a building and still recognize its role in gentrification or environmental strain.^1113101489 Felski’s work encourages us to resist flattening such complexities into simple narratives of ideological mystification. Instead, we might explore how enchantment coexists with critique, how people negotiate their enjoyment of iconic architecture in light of broader concerns, and how attachments are reshaped over time.^1310149 Doing so would expand the vocabulary of architectural criticism beyond suspicion, allowing for richer accounts of how buildings matter in everyday life.

Identification: Cities, Buildings, and Selfhood

In Hooked, Felski identifies identification as one of the key “attachment devices” through which people connect to works of art.¹³⁹ Identification involves seeing oneself in a character, narrative, or situation, or feeling that a work speaks to one’s own experiences or values.¹³⁹ It can be complex and ambivalent, involving both projection and recognition. While Felski’s examples focus on literature and film, identification can easily be extended to the built environment: people often identify with cities, neighborhoods, and even specific buildings, seeing them as emblematic of their identity or as places that reflect their aspirations.¹³¹⁴⁹

Iconic architecture plays a significant role in such identifications. City dwellers may feel pride in a distinctive skyline, associating certain buildings with their city’s character or success.¹²³¹⁸ National or local identities can be bound up with icons like the Sydney Opera House, which has become a symbol of Australia, or the Eiffel Tower, which stands for Paris.⁶¹²⁴ These identifications can be cultivated through narratives, tourism campaigns, cultural events, and everyday routines, and they form part of the affective infrastructure of urban life.¹³¹⁴⁹ At the same time, identifications may be contested: some residents may reject certain iconic projects as alien or elitist, identifying instead with other, less spectacular aspects of the city.¹¹¹³⁴

A Felskian critique would examine these identifications with nuance. Rather than simply labeling them as ideological or manufactured, she would ask how they arise, what they enable, and how they are negotiated.¹³¹⁴⁹ Identification with a building may provide a sense of belonging or pride, but it may also obscure inequalities or conflicts.¹²³⁴¹² For example, low‑income residents may feel excluded from cultural icons that charge high entry fees or cater to tourists, even as the buildings are presented as symbols of the whole city.¹²³¹⁸ Critics can highlight such exclusions while still acknowledging that some residents do identify with the buildings, deriving genuine meaning from them.^1310149

Felski’s emphasis on identification also invites reflection on how architects and critics themselves identify with certain buildings or styles. Architectural writers may be attached to modernist ideals, brutalist aesthetics, or contextualist values, shaping their responses to iconic architecture in ways that reflect their own professional identities.¹¹¹⁹ Recognizing these attachments can foster greater reflexivity about criticism as a practice, aligning with Felski’s call to examine the humanities’ own affective investments.⁵⁶¹⁰⁸

Attunement: Atmospheres, Senses, and Urban Mood

Attunement, another attachment device in Hooked, refers to the process by which people become sensitized to the atmospheres or moods of works of art.¹³⁹ It involves a kind of calibrated responsiveness, in which one is open to being affected by the work’s tonalities, rhythms, or sensuous qualities.¹³⁹ Felski suggests that attunement is particularly important for understanding how art shapes and is shaped by everyday lifeworlds, as it encompasses subtle forms of influence and resonance that may not be captured by more explicit interpretive frameworks.¹³¹⁴⁹

Architecture, more than many other art forms, engages directly with the senses and with atmospheres. Dyckhoff, for example, describes architects Peter Märkli and Valerio Olgiati’s efforts to “introduce all five senses to the icon,” creating buildings with depth and complexity of experience that offer “tactile spectacle” rather than mere visual thrills.¹⁵ He notes how their work celebrates the multisensory, multifunctional qualities of the outer metre of architecture, using stained concrete, printed glass, and evocative facades to create uncanny moods.¹⁵ Such attention to multi‑sensory atmosphere exemplifies attunement in architectural design and reception, suggesting that iconic architecture can be experienced not only as spectacle but as a nuanced, embodied presence.

A Felskian approach to iconic architecture would therefore emphasize attunement as a key dimension of attachment. It would encourage critics to describe the atmospheres of iconic buildings, how they feel, sound, and smell, and how people’s bodies and moods respond to them.¹³¹⁴⁹ It would ask how different audiences attune to these spaces: do they feel intimidated, exhilarated, alienated, or comforted? How do atmospheres change over time, as buildings weather, uses shift, and narratives evolve?¹³¹⁴⁹ Such questions redirect attention from abstract condemnation or celebration to concrete phenomenological experience.

Attunement also intersects with context in complex ways. Iconic buildings may create new atmospheres within existing urban fabrics, altering how people perceive and move through neighborhoods.¹²³⁴ They may clash with or complement surrounding structures, affecting the overall mood of a district.¹¹¹³⁴ Felski’s emphasis on attunement would encourage critics to analyze these effects in detail, rather than relying solely on generalized judgments about contextual fit.^56131489 It would also open space for discussing how people adjust to new buildings, gradually incorporating them into their sensory and emotional maps of the city.¹³¹⁴⁹

Interpretation as Relating: Stories, Tours, and Uses

Finally, Felski’s notion of “interpreting as relating” highlights how interpretation itself can be an attachment device.¹³⁹ Rather than seeing interpretation only as an analytic procedure that stands at a distance from the work, she emphasizes how people use interpretation to connect their experiences to artworks, to share stories, and to negotiate meanings.¹³⁹ Interpretation, in this sense, is relational: it involves conversation, disagreement, and mutual influence among audiences, critics, and artists.¹³¹⁴⁹ Felski cautions against reducing interpretation to a purely suspicious activity, arguing that it can also be a way of expressing care, fascination, or curiosity.¹³⁸⁹

In the context of iconic architecture, interpretation is omnipresent. People narrate their visits to buildings, share impressions on social media, debate projects in public meetings, and hear guided tours that frame buildings in particular ways.¹²³¹⁸ Critics publish essays and books that interpret the meanings of icons, while architects provide their own accounts of intent and concept.¹¹¹³¹² These interpretations contribute to the buildings’ iconic status, as they circulate images, metaphors, and stories that shape how audiences perceive them.¹²³⁴¹⁸

A Felskian perspective would treat these interpretive practices themselves as objects of analysis, asking how they function as attachment devices.¹³¹⁴⁹ For example, a narrative that presents a building as embodying a city’s resilience may foster identification and pride.¹²³ A critical essay that reveals environmental harms may provoke concern or anger, reshaping attachments.¹¹¹² Guided tours may emphasize certain aspects of design and omit others, leading visitors to relate to the building in particular ways.¹²³¹⁸ By mapping these interpretive circuits, we can see how iconic architecture becomes embedded in social relations, and how criticism participates in creating the very meanings it often seeks to expose.

Felski’s insistence that examining artworks critically is not opposed to being hooked suggests that architecture criticism could embrace its role in these relational processes without giving up analytic rigor.¹³¹⁰⁸⁹ Critics could acknowledge that their interpretations influence how people attach to buildings, and they could experiment with different interpretive styles—including more descriptive, narrative, or dialogic modes—that foster understanding rather than only suspicion.¹³¹⁰⁸⁹ Such an approach would mark a shift from critique as tribunal to criticism as conversation, aligning with postcritical efforts to develop more expansive vocabularies for engaging with art and architecture.¹⁰¹⁴

Reimagining Case Studies Through Felski’s Lens

Guggenheim Bilbao: Suspicion, Enchantment, Hyperconsumerism

The Guggenheim Museum Bilbao provides a particularly rich case for applying Felski’s conceptual framework. As Sklair notes, Gehry’s building quickly became an instant icon, helping to transform the image of Bilbao from a declining industrial city to a cultural destination.⁵¹²¹⁸ Economic studies indicate that the museum generates hundreds of millions of euros annually for the local economy, exemplifying the power of iconic architecture to catalyze urban regeneration and attract tourism.¹²¹⁸ At the same time, the building has detractors who argue that it is too dominant, that its interior spaces are not well suited to displaying art, and that the Bilbao effect has been oversold or misapplied in other contexts.¹¹¹²¹⁸

A traditional critical analysis, aligned with the hermeneutics of suspicion, would focus on exposing the building’s role in neoliberal urbanism, highlighting how it serves as a marketing tool for the city and for corporate sponsors, how it reinforces certain forms of consumption, and how it may contribute to gentrification or inequality.¹²³⁴¹² Sklair’s Icon Project provides ample material for such an analysis, situating Bilbao within a global network of cities seeking icons to brand themselves.¹² Such work is essential for understanding the structural forces at play, and a Felskian perspective would not discard it.⁵⁶¹⁰⁸

However, a Felskian critique would also seek to supplement this suspicious reading with an exploration of enchantment and attachment. It would ask how people experience the Guggenheim in their everyday lives: how residents walk past it, what memories they associate with it, how workers navigate its spaces, and how visitors respond to its atmosphere.^131014189 It might collect narratives of enchantment, such as visitors describing their awe upon entering the atrium or their fascination with the play of light on the titanium surfaces.¹¹¹⁸ It would treat these accounts as significant, not merely as evidence of ideological seduction, and would analyze how they coexist with awareness of the building’s economic and political dimensions.^1310149

Such an approach could reveal, for instance, that some residents feel proud of the Guggenheim as a symbol of their city’s transformation, identifying with its success and its global recognition.¹²¹⁸ Others may feel ambivalent or hostile, viewing it as an alien intrusion or as benefiting tourists more than locals.¹²¹⁸ These varied attachments could be mapped in relation to class, age, profession, or neighborhood, illustrating how iconic architecture generates a complex field of affective and social responses.¹³¹⁴⁹ Critique, in this context, would not only expose complicity but also describe how attachments form and change, aligning with Felski’s emphasis on everyday lifeworlds.¹⁰¹⁴

Eiffel Tower, Sydney Opera House, Scottish Parliament: From Insult to Affection

Felski herself uses examples from architecture to illustrate how iconic buildings can be subject to intense criticism and later become admired. She notes that some of the greatest architectural icons, such as the Eiffel Tower, the Sydney Opera House, and the Scottish Parliament, were initially met with hostility and insult while they were being built.⁶ Early critics denounced the Eiffel Tower as a monstrous blot on Paris, and the Sydney Opera House faced opposition regarding its cost and design.⁶¹² Over time, however, these buildings became symbols of their cities and nations, attracting tourists and inspiring affection.⁶¹²⁴

Sklair similarly recalls that many iconic buildings have had turbulent receptions, suggesting that we should not assume that present hostility will necessarily persist.⁶¹² He notes that socially produced icons can become much admired one day, even if they are initially controversial.⁶¹² This historical pattern underscores a key point in Felski’s work: meanings and attachments are not fixed but evolve through time, shaped by changing contexts, narratives, and experiences.⁵⁶¹⁴⁸⁹

A Felskian critique of contemporary iconic architecture would therefore caution against premature judgments that treat initial critical hostility as definitive.⁵⁶⁸ It would encourage critics to consider how buildings might acquire new meanings, how publics might gradually attach to them, and how the trajectories of icons like the Eiffel Tower complicate simple narratives of spectacle or vanity.⁶¹²⁴ For example, the Scottish Parliament building, initially criticized for cost overruns and unusual design, has become an important symbol of devolved governance and national identity, even as debates continue about its architecture.⁶¹² Felski’s attention to attachment would prompt us to analyze how such shifts occur, rather than only documenting initial controversies.

At the same time, Felski’s emphasis on suspicion’s limits would remind us that later affection does not automatically validate earlier contested projects.⁵⁶⁸ The fact that the Eiffel Tower is now beloved does not mean that all contemporary icons will follow the same path, nor does it erase concerns about inequality or environmental impact in current projects.¹²³⁴¹² A postcritical approach would balance historical awareness with structural analysis, recognizing both the possibility of evolving attachments and the specificity of current conditions.

The Gherkin and Everyday Life in the Iconic City

Norman Foster’s 30 St Mary Axe, commonly known as the Gherkin, offers another instructive case. Sudjic’s debate explicitly mentions the Gherkin alongside the Bilbao Guggenheim as emblematic of the age of the iconic building.¹³⁴ The Gherkin’s distinctive form has become a recognizable symbol of London’s financial district, appearing in countless photographs and films.¹²³⁴ It is both an object of admiration and a target of critical suspicion, representing the rise of corporate architecture and the transformation of London’s skyline.¹²³⁴¹²

A Felskian reading would again combine structural critique with attention to attachment and everyday experience. On one level, the Gherkin can be analyzed as part of the Icon Project, embodying the dominance of corporate interests in shaping the built environment and reinforcing the centrality of hyperconsumerism.¹² On another level, it functions as a landmark for city dwellers, a beacon for navigation, and a subject of jokes and affection due to its nickname.¹³¹⁴⁹ People may feel attached to it as part of their mental map of London, even if they are ambivalent about its corporate associations.¹²³⁴

Felski’s concept of identification could be applied to the Gherkin in terms of how Londoners see themselves in relation to the building.¹³⁹ Some may identify with its modernity and global ambition, others may identify against it, seeing it as symbolizing unwanted change.¹²³⁴ Attunement would involve describing how the building’s presence affects the atmosphere of the surrounding streets: its reflective glass, its shadow patterns, its relationship to older structures.¹³¹⁴⁹ Interpretation as relating would encompass stories told about the building, including media narratives, tourist guides, and personal anecdotes.¹³⁹ Together, these dimensions would offer a richer account of the Gherkin’s role in everyday life than a purely suspicious reading could provide.

Libeskind’s Museums and the Problem of Use

Nasr and Mandour mention Daniel Libeskind’s museums as an example of iconic architecture that may fail in use.¹¹ They note that a walk through Libeskind’s museums reveals “the dearth of an iconic approach when it comes to displaying the museum’s collections,” implying that the emphasis on unusual forms may compromise functional effectiveness.¹¹ This critique aligns with broader concerns about signature architecture prioritizing form over program, leading to spaces that are visually striking but difficult to inhabit or use.¹¹¹²

From a Felskian perspective, such cases highlight the importance of considering multiple modes of engagement. While enchantment may draw visitors to Libeskind’s museums—fascination with angular forms, dramatic voids, or symbolic gestures—attachment may be undermined if users find the spaces frustrating or confusing.^1113149 Identification may be complicated if the building’s narrative symbolism does not resonate with visitors’ experiences or expectations.¹³¹⁴⁹ Attunement may reveal tense atmospheres, where the building’s aesthetic demands overshadow the comfort or legibility of spaces.¹³¹⁴⁹ Interpretation as relating may include both professional critiques and everyday complaints, forming a complex discourse about the building’s successes and failures.¹¹¹³⁹

A Felskian critique would encourage careful attention to these tensions. It would resist reducing Libeskind’s museums to either triumphs of expressive form or failures of function, instead mapping how different audiences respond and how attachments (or detachments) form over time.^1310149 It would also invite reflection on how criticism mediates these responses, perhaps paying disproportionate attention to certain voices (architects, curators, critics) while marginalizing others (visitors, staff, local communities).^13101489 Such analysis would align with Felski’s broader interest in how works of art “create, or co‑create, enduring ties,” and how these ties are shaped by diverse practices of engagement.¹³⁹

Political, Ethical, and Methodological Implications

Rethinking Architectural Critique’s Political Efficacy

One of Felski’s central concerns is the political efficacy of critique. She questions whether suspicious interpretations, by themselves, have the transformative impact they often claim, and she suggests that in some contexts it may be strategically wise to restrain the impulse to judge or condemn in order to foster solidarity and cross‑class coalitions.¹⁰⁸ Applied to architectural criticism, this concern raises important questions about how the denunciation of iconic architecture functions politically.

Critics who expose the complicities of iconic buildings with capitalist globalization, inequality, and environmental harm perform vital work in making visible injustices that might otherwise be obscured by spectacle and marketing.¹²³⁴¹² However, Felski would ask whether such critiques actually mobilize broader publics or whether they primarily resonate within academic and professional circles.⁵⁶¹⁰⁸ Do critical essays about the Icon Project reach residents affected by urban megaprojects, or do they circulate mainly among scholars and architects? Do they encourage collective action, or do they contribute to a sense of cynicism or resignation?¹²³⁴¹²

Felski’s interest in everyday lifeworlds and attachment suggests that political efficacy may depend in part on how criticism connects with people’s lived experiences.¹⁰¹⁴ Critiques that ignore the ways in which residents are attached to iconic buildings may be less persuasive or may be perceived as dismissive of their feelings.^1310149 Conversely, criticism that acknowledges these attachments, that describes enchantment and identification while still highlighting structural injustices, may foster more nuanced conversations and potential alliances.^1310149 For example, a campaign to address inequality in Bilbao might be more effective if it recognizes that some residents value the Guggenheim and seeks to harness that attachment in support of broader changes.¹²¹⁸

A Felskian perspective would therefore encourage architectural critics to reflect on their audience and goals. Are they writing only for other specialists, or are they seeking to engage wider publics? How might their tone and methods affect the reception of their arguments? Could more descriptive, narrative, or dialogic styles of criticism, which incorporate testimonies and experiences from residents, workers, and visitors, enhance political efficacy by building empathy and shared understanding?^1310149 These questions align with postcritique’s call for more expansive affirmative vocabularies and attention to everyday life.¹⁰¹⁴

Solidarity, Cross‑Class Coalitions, and Urban Icons

Felski’s suggestion that in some contexts it may be wise to “rein in the impulse to judge or condemn” speaks directly to the challenges of building solidarity around urban issues.¹⁰ Iconic architecture often sits at the intersection of multiple interests: city governments, developers, cultural institutions, residents, and tourists all have stakes in such projects.^12341218 Critique that adopts a purely condemnatory stance may align with some actors (e.g., local activists opposing displacement) but alienate others (e.g., residents who appreciate the building or workers whose livelihoods depend on it).¹²³⁴¹⁸ A postcritical approach would seek to navigate these complexities.

One possibility would be to use iconic buildings as focal points for broader discussions about urban justice, rather than treating them only as enemies.¹⁰¹² For instance, a community forum in Bilbao might explore what the Guggenheim has meant for different groups, what benefits and harms it has brought, and how future projects could be more equitable.¹²¹⁸ Such a forum could incorporate critical analysis of capitalist globalization while also valuing residents’ attachments to the building, encouraging dialogue rather than polarization.^1310149 Similarly, campaigns for more inclusive cultural institutions might engage with iconic museums, seeking to democratize access and representation rather than only denouncing their iconic status.¹²³¹⁸

Felski’s emphasis on cross‑class coalitions suggests that criticism must be attentive to how it speaks about attachments across social divides.¹⁰ Dismissing popular enchantment with iconic architecture as mere consumerist seduction may hinder coalitions with those who enjoy these buildings but are also concerned about inequality or exclusion.^1310149 A Felskian critique would encourage critics to find language that acknowledges both enchantment and injustice, recognizing that people can be attached to problematic structures and that these attachments can be mobilized in support of change.^1310149 This approach would align with broader postcritical efforts to develop affirmative vocabularies that complement rather than replace critique.¹⁰¹⁴

Beyond Iconophilia and Iconophobia: Ambivalent Attachments

Architectural discourse often oscillates between iconophilia (enthusiastic celebration of iconic buildings) and iconophobia (hostile distrust).¹²³⁴¹² Iconophiles emphasize the beauty, innovation, and economic benefits of icons; iconophobes stress their spectacle, wastefulness, and complicity with capitalism.^12341218 Felski’s work suggests that we might move beyond this binary by focusing on ambivalent attachments—forms of engagement that are neither purely celebratory nor purely suspicious.^13101489

Ambivalence is a central theme in Felski’s phenomenology of reading, where she emphasizes that readers can simultaneously critique and care about texts, be disturbed and enchanted, recognize themselves and feel estranged.¹¹¹⁴ In architecture, ambivalence is likewise common: residents may appreciate the aesthetic presence of a building while resenting the displacement it causes; visitors may enjoy the spaces while worrying about sustainability; architects may admire the structural ingenuity while criticizing the project’s social context.^11123412 These ambivalent attachments are often poorly captured by iconophilic or iconophobic discourse, which tends to simplify positions.

A Felskian critique of iconic architecture would therefore aim to articulate ambivalence. It would describe how people feel torn, how attachments and detachments coexist, and how such experiences might be leveraged in discussions about urban futures.^1310149 For example, a resident might say: “I love the way the museum looks at sunset, but I hate that my rent has gone up.” A postcritical architectural study could take such statements seriously, using them to explore the complex interplay between aesthetic pleasure and economic pressure.^1310149 Doing so would expand our understanding of how iconic architecture matters, moving beyond simplistic judgments.

Methodological Suggestions for Postcritical Architectural Studies

Bringing Felski’s postcritical framework into architecture suggests several methodological directions, even though she herself does not prescribe specific methods for this field. First, critics might incorporate ethnographic or phenomenological approaches that attend to everyday experiences of iconic buildings, gathering narratives from diverse users and residents.^1310149 Such studies would complement structural analyses by illuminating how attachments form and change, how enchantment and identification operate, and how criticism itself is received.^1310149

Second, architectural writing could experiment with different tones and genres, including more descriptive and narrative forms that convey atmospheres, moods, and sensory experiences.¹³¹⁴⁹ Rather than only offering judgments or theoretical expositions, critics could write essays that trace their own ambivalent attachments, acknowledging enchantment and suspicion side by side.^13101489 This reflexivity would align with Felski’s call to recognize criticism as a practice shaped by its own affects and attachments.⁵⁶¹⁰⁸

Third, critics could adopt a relational understanding of interpretation, seeing their work as part of broader networks of meaning rather than as unilateral unveiling of hidden truths.¹³⁹ They might engage more directly with the interpretive practices of residents, tourists, and workers, treating these as legitimate forms of knowledge and attachment.^1310149 Doing so would challenge the hierarchical image of the critic as the sole arbiter of meaning, fostering more dialogic and inclusive modes of debate about iconic architecture.¹³¹⁰⁸⁹

Finally, architectural studies inspired by Felski might develop affirmative vocabularies for discussing architecture’s potential contributions to everyday life, even when these contributions are entangled with problematic structures.¹⁰¹⁴ For example, they could explore how buildings support forms of recognition (providing spaces where marginalized groups see themselves represented), enchantment (offering moments of respite or joy), knowledge (educating visitors), and shock (confronting injustices).¹¹¹⁴ These vocabularies would not negate critique but enrich it, allowing for more nuanced accounts of architecture’s social and aesthetic roles.

Conclusion: What It Means to Critique Iconic Architecture After Felski

Speculating on how Rita Felski would critique iconic architecture invites us to shift our focus from buildings alone to the interpretive practices that surround them. Felski’s work on the hermeneutics of suspicion, the limits of critique, and postcritique highlights how contemporary criticism in the humanities has become attached to suspicion as a dominant mood and method, relying heavily on the language of guilt and complicity and often marginalizing other forms of engagement such as attachment, enchantment, and everyday experience.⁵⁶¹⁰⁷⁸ When we apply this lens to architectural discourse on iconic buildings, we can see how critiques of spectacle, starchitecture, and the Bilbao effect exemplify this suspicious ethos, offering powerful structural analyses of capitalist globalization while sometimes neglecting the complex ways in which people live with and respond to iconic architecture.^12341218

A Felskian critique of iconic architecture would therefore operate on two levels. On the one hand, it would recognize and retain the essential insights of structural critique, acknowledging that iconic buildings are deeply entangled with corporate interests, urban branding strategies, and global inequality.¹²³⁴¹² It would not romanticize icons or ignore their complicities. On the other hand, it would question the overreliance on suspicion, urging critics to expand their repertoire by attending to attachment, enchantment, identification, attunement, and the relational nature of interpretation.^111310149 It would insist that understanding iconic architecture requires analyzing how buildings hook audiences, how they create or co‑create enduring ties, and how these ties are negotiated across different social groups.¹³¹⁴⁹

Bringing case studies like the Guggenheim Bilbao, the Eiffel Tower, the Sydney Opera House, the Scottish Parliament, the Gherkin, and Libeskind’s museums into this framework illustrates the potential of postcritical architectural criticism. We can see how icons are both instruments of capitalist globalization and sites of evolving attachment, both objects of suspicion and sources of enchantment.^561116123418 We can trace how initial hostility may give way to affection, how ambivalent attachments emerge, and how criticism itself participates in shaping the meanings of these buildings.⁶¹⁶¹²⁴ A Felskian approach would encourage us to describe these dynamics in detail, to recognize ambivalence rather than flattening it into iconophilia or iconophobia, and to reflect on how our own critical practices are attached to certain narratives and values.⁵⁶¹⁰⁸

Politically, postcritical architectural studies informed by Felski would not abandon critique but would seek to enhance its efficacy by connecting more deeply with everyday lifeworlds and by developing affirmative vocabularies that can foster solidarity and cross‑class coalitions.¹⁰¹⁴ Criticism that acknowledges residents’ attachments to iconic buildings while highlighting structural injustices may be better positioned to engage publics than criticism that dismisses enchantment as mere seduction.^1310149 Methodologically, such studies would integrate structural analysis with phenomenology and narrative, explore multi‑sensory attunement, and treat interpretation as a relational practice rather than a unilateral unmasking.^1310149

In the end, to ask “how would Felski critique iconic architecture?” is to ask how we might cultivate a more reflexive, plural, and nuanced discourse about iconic buildings—one that recognizes their entanglement with capitalism without reducing them to simple symptoms, and that takes seriously the ways they matter in people’s lives.^561310141289 Felski’s postcritical project suggests that the future of architectural criticism lies not in choosing between celebration and denunciation, but in learning to inhabit the ambivalences of attachment and suspicion, and in acknowledging that we write about buildings because, in one way or another, we are hooked on them.¹³⁹

Footnotes

1. www.tandfonline.com ↩ ↩² ↩³ ↩⁴ ↩⁵ ↩⁶ ↩⁷ ↩⁸ ↩⁹ ↩¹⁰ ↩¹¹ ↩¹² ↩¹³ ↩¹⁴ ↩¹⁵ ↩¹⁶ ↩¹⁷ ↩¹⁸ ↩¹⁹ ↩²⁰ ↩²¹ ↩²² ↩²³ ↩²⁴ ↩²⁵ ↩²⁶ ↩²⁷ ↩²⁸ ↩²⁹ ↩³⁰ ↩³¹ ↩³² ↩³³ ↩³⁴ ↩³⁵ ↩³⁶ ↩³⁷ ↩³⁸ ↩³⁹ ↩⁴⁰ ↩⁴¹ ↩⁴² ↩⁴³ ↩⁴⁴ ↩⁴⁵ ↩⁴⁶ ↩⁴⁷ ↩⁴⁸ ↩⁴⁹ ↩⁵⁰ ↩⁵¹ ↩⁵² ↩⁵³ ↩⁵⁴ ↩⁵⁵ ↩⁵⁶ ↩⁵⁷ ↩⁵⁸ ↩⁵⁹ ↩⁶⁰ ↩⁶¹ ↩⁶² ↩⁶³ ↩⁶⁴ ↩⁶⁵ ↩⁶⁶ ↩⁶⁷ ↩⁶⁸ ↩⁶⁹ ↩⁷⁰ ↩⁷¹ ↩⁷² ↩⁷³ ↩⁷⁴ ↩⁷⁵ ↩⁷⁶ ↩⁷⁷ ↩⁷⁸ ↩⁷⁹ ↩⁸⁰ ↩⁸¹ ↩⁸² ↩⁸³ ↩⁸⁴ ↩⁸⁵ ↩⁸⁶ ↩⁸⁷ ↩⁸⁸ ↩⁸⁹ ↩⁹⁰ ↩⁹¹ ↩⁹² ↩⁹³ ↩⁹⁴ ↩⁹⁵ ↩⁹⁶ ↩⁹⁷ ↩⁹⁸ ↩⁹⁹ ↩¹⁰⁰ ↩¹⁰¹ ↩¹⁰² ↩¹⁰³

2. books.google.com ↩ ↩² ↩³ ↩⁴ ↩⁵ ↩⁶ ↩⁷ ↩⁸ ↩⁹ ↩¹⁰ ↩¹¹ ↩¹² ↩¹³ ↩¹⁴ ↩¹⁵ ↩¹⁶ ↩¹⁷ ↩¹⁸ ↩¹⁹ ↩²⁰ ↩²¹ ↩²² ↩²³ ↩²⁴ ↩²⁵ ↩²⁶ ↩²⁷ ↩²⁸ ↩²⁹ ↩³⁰ ↩³¹ ↩³² ↩³³ ↩³⁴ ↩³⁵ ↩³⁶ ↩³⁷ ↩³⁸ ↩³⁹ ↩⁴⁰ ↩⁴¹ ↩⁴² ↩⁴³ ↩⁴⁴ ↩⁴⁵ ↩⁴⁶ ↩⁴⁷ ↩⁴⁸ ↩⁴⁹ ↩⁵⁰ ↩⁵¹ ↩⁵² ↩⁵³ ↩⁵⁴ ↩⁵⁵ ↩⁵⁶ ↩⁵⁷ ↩⁵⁸ ↩⁵⁹ ↩⁶⁰ ↩⁶¹ ↩⁶² ↩⁶³ ↩⁶⁴ ↩⁶⁵ ↩⁶⁶ ↩⁶⁷ ↩⁶⁸ ↩⁶⁹ ↩⁷⁰ ↩⁷¹ ↩⁷² ↩⁷³ ↩⁷⁴ ↩⁷⁵ ↩⁷⁶ ↩⁷⁷ ↩⁷⁸ ↩⁷⁹ ↩⁸⁰ ↩⁸¹ ↩⁸² ↩⁸³ ↩⁸⁴ ↩⁸⁵ ↩⁸⁶ ↩⁸⁷ ↩⁸⁸ ↩⁸⁹ ↩⁹⁰ ↩⁹¹ ↩⁹² ↩⁹³ ↩⁹⁴ ↩⁹⁵ ↩⁹⁶ ↩⁹⁷ ↩⁹⁸ ↩⁹⁹ ↩¹⁰⁰ ↩¹⁰¹ ↩¹⁰² ↩¹⁰³

3. bookskeptic.com ↩ ↩² ↩³ ↩⁴ ↩⁵ ↩⁶ ↩⁷ ↩⁸ ↩⁹ ↩¹⁰ ↩¹¹ ↩¹² ↩¹³ ↩¹⁴ ↩¹⁵ ↩¹⁶ ↩¹⁷ ↩¹⁸ ↩¹⁹ ↩²⁰ ↩²¹ ↩²² ↩²³ ↩²⁴ ↩²⁵ ↩²⁶ ↩²⁷ ↩²⁸ ↩²⁹ ↩³⁰ ↩³¹ ↩³² ↩³³ ↩³⁴ ↩³⁵ ↩³⁶ ↩³⁷ ↩³⁸ ↩³⁹ ↩⁴⁰ ↩⁴¹ ↩⁴² ↩⁴³ ↩⁴⁴ ↩⁴⁵ ↩⁴⁶ ↩⁴⁷ ↩⁴⁸ ↩⁴⁹ ↩⁵⁰ ↩⁵¹ ↩⁵² ↩⁵³ ↩⁵⁴ ↩⁵⁵ ↩⁵⁶ ↩⁵⁷ ↩⁵⁸ ↩⁵⁹ ↩⁶⁰ ↩⁶¹ ↩⁶² ↩⁶³ ↩⁶⁴ ↩⁶⁵ ↩⁶⁶ ↩⁶⁷ ↩⁶⁸ ↩⁶⁹

4. www.prospectmagazine.co.uk ↩ ↩² ↩³ ↩⁴ ↩⁵ ↩⁶ ↩⁷ ↩⁸ ↩⁹ ↩¹⁰ ↩¹¹ ↩¹² ↩¹³ ↩¹⁴ ↩¹⁵ ↩¹⁶ ↩¹⁷ ↩¹⁸ ↩¹⁹ ↩²⁰ ↩²¹ ↩²² ↩²³ ↩²⁴ ↩²⁵ ↩²⁶ ↩²⁷ ↩²⁸ ↩²⁹ ↩³⁰ ↩³¹ ↩³² ↩³³ ↩³⁴ ↩³⁵ ↩³⁶ ↩³⁷ ↩³⁸ ↩³⁹ ↩⁴⁰ ↩⁴¹ ↩⁴² ↩⁴³ ↩⁴⁴ ↩⁴⁵ ↩⁴⁶ ↩⁴⁷ ↩⁴⁸ ↩⁴⁹ ↩⁵⁰ ↩⁵¹ ↩⁵² ↩⁵³ ↩⁵⁴ ↩⁵⁵ ↩⁵⁶ ↩⁵⁷ ↩⁵⁸ ↩⁵⁹ ↩⁶⁰ ↩⁶¹ ↩⁶²

5. german.princeton.edu ↩ ↩² ↩³ ↩⁴ ↩⁵ ↩⁶ ↩⁷ ↩⁸ ↩⁹ ↩¹⁰ ↩¹¹ ↩¹² ↩¹³ ↩¹⁴ ↩¹⁵ ↩¹⁶ ↩¹⁷ ↩¹⁸ ↩¹⁹ ↩²⁰ ↩²¹ ↩²² ↩²³ ↩²⁴ ↩²⁵ ↩²⁶ ↩²⁷ ↩²⁸ ↩²⁹ ↩³⁰ ↩³¹ ↩³² ↩³³ ↩³⁴ ↩³⁵ ↩³⁶ ↩³⁷ ↩³⁸ ↩³⁹ ↩⁴⁰ ↩⁴¹ ↩⁴² ↩⁴³ ↩⁴⁴ ↩⁴⁵ ↩⁴⁶ ↩⁴⁷ ↩⁴⁸ ↩⁴⁹ ↩⁵⁰ ↩⁵¹ ↩⁵² ↩⁵³ ↩⁵⁴ ↩⁵⁵ ↩⁵⁶

6. journal.media-culture.org.au ↩ ↩² ↩³ ↩⁴ ↩⁵ ↩⁶ ↩⁷ ↩⁸ ↩⁹ ↩¹⁰ ↩¹¹ ↩¹² ↩¹³ ↩¹⁴ ↩¹⁵ ↩¹⁶ ↩¹⁷ ↩¹⁸ ↩¹⁹ ↩²⁰ ↩²¹ ↩²² ↩²³ ↩²⁴ ↩²⁵ ↩²⁶ ↩²⁷ ↩²⁸ ↩²⁹ ↩³⁰ ↩³¹ ↩³² ↩³³ ↩³⁴ ↩³⁵ ↩³⁶ ↩³⁷ ↩³⁸ ↩³⁹ ↩⁴⁰ ↩⁴¹ ↩⁴² ↩⁴³ ↩⁴⁴ ↩⁴⁵ ↩⁴⁶ ↩⁴⁷ ↩⁴⁸ ↩⁴⁹ ↩⁵⁰ ↩⁵¹ ↩⁵² ↩⁵³ ↩⁵⁴ ↩⁵⁵ ↩⁵⁶ ↩⁵⁷ ↩⁵⁸ ↩⁵⁹ ↩⁶⁰

7. www.crassh.cam.ac.uk ↩ ↩² ↩³ ↩⁴ ↩⁵ ↩⁶ ↩⁷ ↩⁸ ↩⁹ ↩¹⁰ ↩¹¹ ↩¹²

8. www.artsatl.org ↩ ↩² ↩³ ↩⁴ ↩⁵ ↩⁶ ↩⁷ ↩⁸ ↩⁹ ↩¹⁰ ↩¹¹ ↩¹² ↩¹³ ↩¹⁴ ↩¹⁵ ↩¹⁶ ↩¹⁷ ↩¹⁸ ↩¹⁹ ↩²⁰ ↩²¹ ↩²² ↩²³ ↩²⁴ ↩²⁵ ↩²⁶ ↩²⁷ ↩²⁸ ↩²⁹ ↩³⁰ ↩³¹ ↩³² ↩³³ ↩³⁴ ↩³⁵ ↩³⁶ ↩³⁷ ↩³⁸ ↩³⁹ ↩⁴⁰ ↩⁴¹ ↩⁴² ↩⁴³ ↩⁴⁴ ↩⁴⁵ ↩⁴⁶ ↩⁴⁷ ↩⁴⁸ ↩⁴⁹ ↩⁵⁰ ↩⁵¹ ↩⁵² ↩⁵³ ↩⁵⁴ ↩⁵⁵ ↩⁵⁶ ↩⁵⁷ ↩⁵⁸ ↩⁵⁹ ↩⁶⁰ ↩⁶¹ ↩⁶² ↩⁶³ ↩⁶⁴ ↩⁶⁵ ↩⁶⁶ ↩⁶⁷ ↩⁶⁸ ↩⁶⁹ ↩⁷⁰

9. press.uchicago.edu ↩ ↩² ↩³ ↩⁴ ↩⁵ ↩⁶ ↩⁷ ↩⁸ ↩⁹ ↩¹⁰ ↩¹¹ ↩¹² ↩¹³ ↩¹⁴ ↩¹⁵ ↩¹⁶ ↩¹⁷ ↩¹⁸ ↩¹⁹ ↩²⁰ ↩²¹ ↩²² ↩²³ ↩²⁴ ↩²⁵ ↩²⁶ ↩²⁷ ↩²⁸ ↩²⁹ ↩³⁰ ↩³¹ ↩³² ↩³³ ↩³⁴ ↩³⁵ ↩³⁶ ↩³⁷ ↩³⁸ ↩³⁹ ↩⁴⁰ ↩⁴¹ ↩⁴² ↩⁴³ ↩⁴⁴ ↩⁴⁵ ↩⁴⁶ ↩⁴⁷ ↩⁴⁸ ↩⁴⁹ ↩⁵⁰ ↩⁵¹ ↩⁵² ↩⁵³ ↩⁵⁴ ↩⁵⁵ ↩⁵⁶ ↩⁵⁷ ↩⁵⁸ ↩⁵⁹ ↩⁶⁰ ↩⁶¹ ↩⁶² ↩⁶³ ↩⁶⁴ ↩⁶⁵ ↩⁶⁶ ↩⁶⁷ ↩⁶⁸ ↩⁶⁹ ↩⁷⁰ ↩⁷¹ ↩⁷² ↩⁷³ ↩⁷⁴ ↩⁷⁵ ↩⁷⁶ ↩⁷⁷ ↩⁷⁸ ↩⁷⁹ ↩⁸⁰ ↩⁸¹ ↩⁸² ↩⁸³ ↩⁸⁴ ↩⁸⁵ ↩⁸⁶ ↩⁸⁷ ↩⁸⁸

10. mediatheoryjournal.org ↩ ↩² ↩³ ↩⁴ ↩⁵ ↩⁶ ↩⁷ ↩⁸ ↩⁹ ↩¹⁰ ↩¹¹ ↩¹² ↩¹³ ↩¹⁴ ↩¹⁵ ↩¹⁶ ↩¹⁷ ↩¹⁸ ↩¹⁹ ↩²⁰ ↩²¹ ↩²² ↩²³ ↩²⁴ ↩²⁵ ↩²⁶ ↩²⁷ ↩²⁸ ↩²⁹ ↩³⁰ ↩³¹ ↩³² ↩³³ ↩³⁴ ↩³⁵ ↩³⁶ ↩³⁷ ↩³⁸ ↩³⁹ ↩⁴⁰ ↩⁴¹ ↩⁴² ↩⁴³ ↩⁴⁴ ↩⁴⁵ ↩⁴⁶ ↩⁴⁷ ↩⁴⁸ ↩⁴⁹ ↩⁵⁰ ↩⁵¹ ↩⁵² ↩⁵³ ↩⁵⁴ ↩⁵⁵ ↩⁵⁶ ↩⁵⁷ ↩⁵⁸ ↩⁵⁹ ↩⁶⁰ ↩⁶¹ ↩⁶² ↩⁶³ ↩⁶⁴ ↩⁶⁵ ↩⁶⁶ ↩⁶⁷ ↩⁶⁸ ↩⁶⁹ ↩⁷⁰ ↩⁷¹ ↩⁷² ↩⁷³ ↩⁷⁴ ↩⁷⁵ ↩⁷⁶ ↩⁷⁷ ↩⁷⁸ ↩⁷⁹

11. www.academia.edu ↩ ↩² ↩³ ↩⁴ ↩⁵ ↩⁶ ↩⁷ ↩⁸ ↩⁹ ↩¹⁰ ↩¹¹ ↩¹² ↩¹³ ↩¹⁴ ↩¹⁵ ↩¹⁶ ↩¹⁷ ↩¹⁸ ↩¹⁹ ↩²⁰ ↩²¹ ↩²² ↩²³ ↩²⁴ ↩²⁵ ↩²⁶ ↩²⁷ ↩²⁸ ↩²⁹ ↩³⁰ ↩³¹ ↩³² ↩³³ ↩³⁴ ↩³⁵ ↩³⁶ ↩³⁷ ↩³⁸ ↩³⁹ ↩⁴⁰ ↩⁴¹ ↩⁴² ↩⁴³

12. designbuild.nridigital.com ↩ ↩² ↩³ ↩⁴ ↩⁵ ↩⁶ ↩⁷ ↩⁸ ↩⁹ ↩¹⁰ ↩¹¹ ↩¹² ↩¹³ ↩¹⁴ ↩¹⁵ ↩¹⁶ ↩¹⁷ ↩¹⁸ ↩¹⁹ ↩²⁰ ↩²¹ ↩²² ↩²³ ↩²⁴ ↩²⁵ ↩²⁶ ↩²⁷ ↩²⁸ ↩²⁹ ↩³⁰ ↩³¹ ↩³² ↩³³ ↩³⁴ ↩³⁵ ↩³⁶ ↩³⁷ ↩³⁸ ↩³⁹ ↩⁴⁰ ↩⁴¹ ↩⁴² ↩⁴³ ↩⁴⁴ ↩⁴⁵

13. www.fabula.org ↩ ↩² ↩³ ↩⁴ ↩⁵ ↩⁶ ↩⁷ ↩⁸ ↩⁹ ↩¹⁰ ↩¹¹ ↩¹² ↩¹³ ↩¹⁴ ↩¹⁵ ↩¹⁶ ↩¹⁷ ↩¹⁸ ↩¹⁹ ↩²⁰ ↩²¹ ↩²² ↩²³ ↩²⁴ ↩²⁵ ↩²⁶ ↩²⁷ ↩²⁸ ↩²⁹ ↩³⁰ ↩³¹ ↩³² ↩³³ ↩³⁴ ↩³⁵ ↩³⁶ ↩³⁷ ↩³⁸ ↩³⁹ ↩⁴⁰ ↩⁴¹ ↩⁴² ↩⁴³ ↩⁴⁴ ↩⁴⁵ ↩⁴⁶ ↩⁴⁷ ↩⁴⁸ ↩⁴⁹ ↩⁵⁰ ↩⁵¹ ↩⁵² ↩⁵³ ↩⁵⁴ ↩⁵⁵ ↩⁵⁶ ↩⁵⁷ ↩⁵⁸ ↩⁵⁹ ↩⁶⁰ ↩⁶¹ ↩⁶² ↩⁶³ ↩⁶⁴ ↩⁶⁵ ↩⁶⁶ ↩⁶⁷ ↩⁶⁸ ↩⁶⁹ ↩⁷⁰ ↩⁷¹ ↩⁷² ↩⁷³ ↩⁷⁴ ↩⁷⁵ ↩⁷⁶ ↩⁷⁷ ↩⁷⁸ ↩⁷⁹ ↩⁸⁰ ↩⁸¹ ↩⁸² ↩⁸³ ↩⁸⁴ ↩⁸⁵ ↩⁸⁶ ↩⁸⁷ ↩⁸⁸ ↩⁸⁹ ↩⁹⁰ ↩⁹¹ ↩⁹² ↩⁹³ ↩⁹⁴ ↩⁹⁵ ↩⁹⁶

14. www.investigo.biblioteca.uvigo.es ↩ ↩² ↩³ ↩⁴ ↩⁵ ↩⁶ ↩⁷ ↩⁸ ↩⁹ ↩¹⁰ ↩¹¹ ↩¹² ↩¹³ ↩¹⁴ ↩¹⁵ ↩¹⁶ ↩¹⁷ ↩¹⁸ ↩¹⁹ ↩²⁰ ↩²¹ ↩²² ↩²³ ↩²⁴ ↩²⁵ ↩²⁶ ↩²⁷ ↩²⁸ ↩²⁹ ↩³⁰ ↩³¹ ↩³² ↩³³ ↩³⁴ ↩³⁵ ↩³⁶ ↩³⁷ ↩³⁸ ↩³⁹ ↩⁴⁰ ↩⁴¹ ↩⁴² ↩⁴³ ↩⁴⁴ ↩⁴⁵ ↩⁴⁶ ↩⁴⁷ ↩⁴⁸ ↩⁴⁹ ↩⁵⁰ ↩⁵¹ ↩⁵² ↩⁵³ ↩⁵⁴ ↩⁵⁵ ↩⁵⁶ ↩⁵⁷ ↩⁵⁸ ↩⁵⁹ ↩⁶⁰ ↩⁶¹ ↩⁶² ↩⁶³ ↩⁶⁴ ↩⁶⁵ ↩⁶⁶ ↩⁶⁷ ↩⁶⁸ ↩⁶⁹ ↩⁷⁰ ↩⁷¹ ↩⁷² ↩⁷³ ↩⁷⁴

15. www.fabula.org ↩ ↩² ↩³ ↩⁴ ↩⁵ ↩⁶ ↩⁷ ↩⁸ ↩⁹ ↩¹⁰ ↩¹¹

16. review31.co.uk ↩ ↩² ↩³ ↩⁴ ↩⁵ ↩⁶ ↩⁷ ↩⁸ ↩⁹ ↩¹⁰

17. asapjournal.com ↩ ↩² ↩³ ↩⁴ ↩⁵ ↩⁶

18. www.dezeen.com ↩ ↩² ↩³ ↩⁴ ↩⁵ ↩⁶ ↩⁷ ↩⁸ ↩⁹ ↩¹⁰ ↩¹¹ ↩¹² ↩¹³ ↩¹⁴ ↩¹⁵ ↩¹⁶ ↩¹⁷ ↩¹⁸ ↩¹⁹ ↩²⁰ ↩²¹ ↩²² ↩²³ ↩²⁴ ↩²⁵ ↩²⁶ ↩²⁷ ↩²⁸ ↩²⁹ ↩³⁰ ↩³¹ ↩³² ↩³³ ↩³⁴ ↩³⁵ ↩³⁶ ↩³⁷ ↩³⁸ ↩³⁹

19. www.instagram.com ↩