Who should win the Stirling Prize?

The Stirling Prize is the Baftas for architects, a moment for auto-erotic self-congratulation. Awarded by the Royal Institute of British Architects, its premise is straightforward: it’s for Britain’s best building of the year. But this year, it seems the prize committee has struggled even with this. Among the six projects shortlisted for this ostensibly nationwide prize, four are in London and a couple could barely even be considered buildings at all.

The most tenuous nominee for a ‘best building’ – yet one with the best bookies’ odds – is the Elizabeth Line by Grimshaw Architects. One of the most expensive infrastructure projects in Europe with a much-delayed opening, it remains frustratingly unreliable. While this can’t be blamed on the architects, the station interiors can – and should – be.

The architecture of metro systems has a rich history, from Moscow’s ‘people’s palace’ luxury to Montreal’s subway and the Jubilee Line extension, where every station was a test bed for creative experimentation. Yet Grimshaw Architects have opted for a pallid utilitarianism that seems to say: ‘You should be grateful for any infrastructure at all, let alone get any delight from it.’

Chucking out centuries of Underground-design wisdom, the architects have dispensed with any visual cues to help travellers identify stations. There’s nothing here that resembles the Piccadilly Line’s charming tiled patterns for the illiterate, Paolozzi’s mosaics or heraldic dragons at Bank. Instead, we have anonymous ‘consistency’. The central London platforms all look identical, meaning if you don’t read English, have dyslexia, or if you find someone blocking your view of the signs, you have to double check you’re at the right station. Despite its exorbitant cost, there are compromises everywhere: signage dwarfed by the cavernous spaces and stingy platform displays with which to find out if a train will ever make it past Paddington.