Architecture is a political medium. While buildings define social relations and reify power dynamics, architects have the capacity to either maintain hegemonic value systems or propose new orders. In light of the challenges architects are confronting today due to the ecological crisis (see our ongoing series Groundwork), a selection of CCA Collection material presented in Records of Protest demonstrates how architects of the past engaged with crises of their time. This article presents a few of these materials to highlight how different publication formats have conveyed ongoing discussions and the development of issues over time.

Periodicals are important tools for disseminating ideas and creating communities, providing platforms for agonism and debate. Revealing alternative positions and grassroots opposition in face of dominant forces such as capitalism, oppression, and war, these periodicals reveal the power architecture can hold in shaping society.

In the late 1960s, a group of students, teachers, and practitioners at the Architectural Association formed a collective driven by a common belief in the need for radical global change and their desire to help create a society where all people could thrive.

Beyond direct actions, they published a magazine, tentatively named ARSE—short for Architects’ Revolutionary Socialist Enclave or whatever you want to call it or Architects for a Really Socialist Environment—to be circulated to architecture schools. The magazine sought to reach a wide audience and create discussion about issues of the built environment, from technocracy in the field to housing struggles to the dominant role that the Royal Institute of British Architects (RIBA) played in architectural education. Their stated purpose, in the context of post-May 1968 student protests, highlighted their willingness to engage with architecture as active agents of the social fabric, as well as their commitment to mitigate its impact in a capitalist society.

As architectural practice began to play a crucial role in state, technocratic, and military structures, ARSE reflects the political consciousness of architecture students in the era of postmodern neoliberalism. The conceptual and highly creative zines were political tools that expressed the collective’s struggles in a powerful and accessible way. They provide valuable insight into the past as we consider present-day student organizing in architecture schools—particularly in the face of systemic violence—and the role architecture plays in perpetuating and mediating systems of oppression.

The first moon landing, on 20 July 1969, was a significant inspiration for Alessandro Poli, a member of Superstudio. Poli was particularly interested in how mass media mythologized space travel, and used newspaper and magazine clippings to imagine what architecture might look like on other planets. His collages reflected his interest in how farming practices might need to be rethought to suit conditions on the moon and how “super technology” might distance humans from tasks as basic as preparing food. For example, he speculated that spacesuits might inhibit tactile relationships to ingredients, altering traditional food processes, such as making bread.

Many saw the moon landing as a significant technological achievement, while others criticized the amount of government spending, arguing that the resources would be better used to address poverty and strengthen agricultural systems on Earth. Immediately after the moon landing, Circolo Operaio (Workers’ Circle) published a manifesto, in Quindici, questioning whether the American and Soviet expeditions merely served capitalist interests and aimed to subjugate the working classes further. While Poli saw the moon landing as a catalyst for new possibilities in architecture, bringing about the invention of an entirely new design language, his collages and his retaining of this publication indicate that he remained aware of the dangers of uncritically embracing new technologies.

The Croatian War of Independence displaced over 400,000 people, and 15% of the housing in the republic—over 180,000 buildings—was destroyed, radically altering the built environment. During the four years of active conflict (1991–1995), the architecture journal Čovjek i prostor, which had previously avoided explicitly political concerns, shifted its focus to cover the displacement of the Croat population and the destruction of historic buildings. Some issues would centre on a specific city—such as the January 1992 issue, which covered Vukovar, a site that was heavily bombed during a major battle. Others, like the December 1991 issue, published a survey of smaller towns that had been partially or fully destroyed.

During this period, Čovjek i prostor collected signatures from numerous Croatian architects outraged by the destruction, compiling them into a poster that accompanied the 1991 and 1992 issues. Editions of the journal published between 1991 and 1995 were released in Croatian and English, bringing international attention to the conflict and its impact on historical architecture. The effects of the war could even be seen in the journal’s design shift, which transformed from a prewar pop-art sensibility to a darker, more severe colour palette and cover design during and after the war. While the visual language used in these special issues was intended to reflect the atrocities of the war, the content retained a hopeful outlook, proposing ways to rebuild and protect the remaining structures while preserving the memory of those lost during the conflict.