Immoral icons

The annual Stirling Prize celebrates British achievement in architecture. But the winning buildings

What happens to an icon when the cameras leave? Does architecture actually "regenerate" an area, or is it a mere handmaiden to gentrification? These are the sort of questions that tend not to be asked of Stirling Prize-winning buildings. So, with this year's RIBA Stirling Prize, the winning entry was presented as the latest instalment of a long-running political/architectural vendetta rather than a place which will have its own particular use and history.

At least Prince Charles must be annoyed. Having made several high-profile attacks on Richard Rogers (now co-director of Rogers Stirk Harbour & Partners), he finally won a direct victory through the cancellation of RSHP's Chelsea Barracks Housing Development, achieved through persistent lobbying of the estate's Qatari developer, a fellow blue-blood. This spat has since provided light relief in an architectural press more concerned with the mass unemployment the profession has faced after the crash, providing a polarised fight between the forces of reaction (in the form of the monarchy) and progress (in the form of Lord Rogers, as much a New Labour apparatchik as a once outrageously talented architect). RSHP's two 2009 nominations were already seen as a political statement, even before their Hammersmith Maggie's Centre, a small building for the care of cancer patients, became the second of Rogers' prizewinners, three years after their architecturally dramatic, environmentally dubious Barajas Airport.

This is a reminder that the Stirling Prize can provide drama often lacking in the buttoned-up world of architecture. The Prize started in 1996, as a conscious attempt to provide an architectural equivalent to the Turner, Mercury or Booker Prizes, using competition to bring it to public consciousness. The early winners were 80s hangovers - a coldly high-tech university building by Stephen Hodder, a historical-reference-riffing music school by Michael Wilford - but this was before "regeneration", the utterly ubiquitous Blairite buzzword-cum-building policy that promised to remake the presumably "degenerated" cities.

So the Stirling Prize truly established itself in the public eye, with Channel 4 assistance, in the form of a run of prizewinners in former industrial or working class areas. Will Alsop's Peckham Library in 2000, Wilkinson Eyre's Gateshead Millennium Bridge and Magna Science Centre in Rotherham, Herzog & De Meuron's Laban Dance Centre in Deptford. With the addition of the 2004 winner, Foster & Partners' 30 St Mary Axe (ie, "the Gherkin"), these buildings defined the architectural production of Blairism at its height. This is the architecture of the "urban renaissance", of the "icon", of the "Bilbao effect", after Frank Gehry's Guggenheim Museum, saviour of the Basque city.

It generally takes place in an area once devoted to either working class housing or industry. It has an instantly recognisable, logo-like form. It is usually a building for leisure rather than work or housing, and it tends to be grinningly optimistic, achingly aspirational.

These buildings have often been critiqued from a functional perspective. The Leeds-based practice Bauman Lyons commissioned a study into a selection of Stirling Prize-winning buildings, finding out from their regular users and staff that they had some rather mundane defects: leaking roofs at Magna, overheating at the Peckham Library, cracking glass at the Laban Centre. This has been used by traditionalists to critique the largely modernist biases of the judges, although recent investigations into Prince Charles' planned village of Poundbury revealed similarly shabby structural failures, without even the excuse of experimentation - and at least no Stirling-winning building has ever suffered from a leaking false chimney.

These functional critiques do reveal something of the short-termism of iconic architecture, with a building as much as an album or bestseller being allotted a mere 15 minutes of fresh-faced fame before use reveals its limitations - but it ignores a more interesting story of the close fit between these buildings' forms and their functions, the way their politics interweaves with their bright colours and their gymnastic engineering.

We could start with the Peckham Library, winner in 2000. Peckham is one of those inner-London districts about which, perennially, "something must be done", and in this case that something was a library. Unlike many other prize-winning schemes there is no doubting the building's importance, and it is very well used, albeit with a notable lack of books. Unlike David Adjaye's Stirling-nominated Tower Hamlets "Idea Stores", managerial bullshit hasn't entirely replaced self-education, and it's comforting that an area would have a public facility as its most monumental and impressive building, with the word "LIBRARY" rising unmistakably from its green cladding and obligatory wonky pillars. Yet the ideology of regeneration presents such buildings as a fait accompli, single-handedly improving the lives of those in impoverished areas, while the result is more often the middle classes moving into them - such as the end of Peckham estate agents call "Bellenden Village".

The 2001 and 2002 winners, where industrial spaces were converted to leisure by architects Wilkinson Eyre, were a more obvious colonisation of urban space. The Magna Science Centre (note the amount of "Centres" here) was once the Steel, Peech and Tozer steelworks, and now offers up this technical process as an (admittedly astonishing) spectacle, as part of a redevelopment mostly consisting of a desolate business park and attendant call centres. The Gateshead Millennium Bridge, meanwhile, is the centrepiece of what is arguably the most typical example of the once-vaunted "Urban Renaissance".

Downriver of the Tyne Bridge, a section of Gateshead's riverside was turned over to two immediately "iconic" buildings - the biomorphic undulating glass shed of Foster's Sage Music Centre, and a Cyclopean Joseph Rank grain silo that was redesigned by Ellis Williams into the Baltic Centre For Contemporary Art. Coals may now be delivered to Newcastle, but culture has come to Gateshead. What is seldom mentioned is how this ensemble relates itself to the surrounding area. Springing up behind the Baltic is a cluster of poorly designed, poky "luxury" tower blocks with attendant car park (far less architecturally distinguished than Owen Luder's awesome "Get Carter car park" in central Gateshead, currently being demolished as an obstacle to regeneration). While this little cultural district is poorly connected to Gateshead's estates and terraces, it is directly linked to the executive flats of Newcastle Quayside - via the Millennium Bridge, an etiolated structure representing the ease of an allegedly leisured society, as opposed to the fiercely mechanical Tyne bridges upstream.

Stirling Prizewinners often have very direct effects on their surrounding areas, which seldom feature in the brochures and television programmes. The Laban Centre, Herzog & De Meuron's dance school in Deptford, South-East London, winner in 2003, is a fine combination of the alien and the familiar, its drizzly metallic skin curving around the Creek. Adjacent, under construction, are a series of blocks of flats of significantly inferior architectural quality (which are nevertheless "in keeping") who claim on their hoarding to be "inspired by dance", and proclaim their sponsorship by RBS.

In almost all of these examples, the prizewinning building has become the advance guard of gentrification, each "icon" bringing in its train a familiar menagerie of property developers' "stunning developments", aiming to change the area's demographics. Perhaps aware of this, the Stirling judges have lately been veering away from the spectacular and iconic in favour of something more upstanding. David Chipperfield's Marbach Museum of Modern Literature, the 2007 winner, was a stern stripped-classical temple redolent of Fascist-era Italian architecture, sombre enough to calm even Prince Charles' nerves.

Recipient in 2008 was Fielden Clegg Bradley's Accordia, a housing estate in Cambridge. This was explicitly couched as an anti-iconic statement in the context of the financial crash, amusingly, as its self-effacing soft-modernist courtyards hide an indubitably luxury development, for affluent folk who prefer not to flaunt their bling. There is an "affordable" bit, where far smaller houses abut a nuclear bunker, built for the site's former incarnation as an MOD base. The bunker tends not to feature in the photos.

The 2009 Stirling shortlist presented a New Labour menagerie - finance capital, private meddling in public services, shopping and surveillance. Aside from a winery by RSHP and a retro-modern art museum by Tony Fretton, there was an office block for Scottish Widows by Eric Parry, in London's financial district; a jolly PFI Health Centre by AHMM, commissioned by the private-public Local Improvement Finance Trust (LIFT); and BDP's masterplan for Liverpool One, a privately owned and patrolled "mall without walls". If these had won, the jury would have given their implicit imprimatur to the City of London, the Private Finance Initiative or urban Enclosures.

Yet the Maggie's Centres are the sort of buildings many architects might prefer to build - places with a genuinely humanitarian purpose, although most would hope never to visit one. The Centres are named after the late Maggie Keswick Jencks, a designer and writer who founded a charity to commission world-class architecture for informal cancer-care centres, attached to NHS Hospitals. Perhaps Rogers won not because of republicanism on the part of the Royal Institute of British Architects, but because his Maggie's Centre was the only building the judges could morally justify.

Owen Hatherley's "Militant Modernism" is published by Zero Books

 

Mike Lombardo via @moreMiLo
Show Hide image

“I was almost brainwashed by him”: How male YouTubers get away with preying on young fans

A multitude of YouTube stars have been accused of taking advantage of young fans, but little is being done to tackle the problem.

In June, a 24-year-old YouTuber named Austin Jones was charged with two counts of producing images of child abuse. Court documents allege that the internet personality – who has more than half a million subscribers to his YouTube channel – solicited explicit videos from two of his young female fans. According to the criminal complaint, Jones asked one of the teenage girls – known only as Victim B – to dance for him, and said: “Bounce again and smile at the camera while you bounce. And while you bounce, say ‘I’m only 14’ 3 times throughout the video.” Jones has been released on bail and is awaiting trial. Jones’ attorney Gerardo Solon Gutierrez points out that the singer is “innocent until proven guilty”.

A few weeks later, a YouTuber known as Durte Dom was accused of filming a 15-year-old girl from behind while she danced at a party, without her consent. “He filmed my ass dancing,” the girl wrote anonymously on Twitter. Dom responded to the allegations via the social network, writing: “the party was 18+, the girl snuck in. don't fool yourself.” He says he will now “start having people sign release forms” before he films them.

These allegations are not isolated. In 2014, a Tumblr user called Olga accused the YouTuber Tom Milsom of coercing her into sexual activities when she was 15 and he was 21. Milsom did not comment publicly on the accusations and was never charged. Only a month earlier, a YouTube musician, Mike Lombardo, was jailed for five years on child pornography charges after soliciting explicit photographs and videos from 11 of his underage fans. 

These events set off a series of other allegations. Vlogger Alex Day admitted to having “manipulative relationships with women” after 14 women and teenage girls accused him of manipulation and abuse. One anonymous 15-year-old wrote on Tumblr that Day had sex with her knowing she was underage and “didn’t listen to me when I asked to stop”. Day denied any sexual relations with underage girls, and none of his alleged victims pressed charges. Another YouTuber, Ed Blann, admitted in a now-deleted Tumblr post that he “manipulated” an of-age fan into sex even after he was “repeatedly told to stop”. Like Day, Blann never faced any charges, but, also like Day, he apologised for his actions.  

 In September 2014, a 19-year-old woman accused the YouTube prankster Sam Pepper of raping her, and another woman filed a police report accusing him of rape. Pepper denied the accusations, was never arrested and charges were never filed. He did, however, apologise for YouTube pranks that included pinching women’s behinds while wearing a fake hand.

A Tumblr post set up to track emotional and sexual abuse in the YouTube community to date features allegations against 43 YouTubers.

***

Social media revolutionised the concept of celebrity – and celebrity-fan interactions. YouTubers are both incredibly adored and incredibly accessible. Products they design sell out overnight and their live events fill arenas. At the same time, fans are often just a few clicks away from engaging in private, one-on-one conversations with their heroes.

“I feel like I was kind of blinded to the whole situation, like I was almost brainwashed by him,” says Ashley LaPrade, a 16-year-old who claims that when she was 15, Austin Jones coerced her into creating sexualised videos on the messaging app Kik. She posted screenshots of their conversations on social media after the news of Jones’s arrest broke.

“It was kind of casual at first and he asked me to model his merchandise for him... so I did. I took a couple pictures and I’m a gymnast so I was trying to like impress him and I did like splits and stuff,” she says. She alleges that Jones asked her to film herself from behind while bending down or dancing. “I didn't want to upset him and make him not like me,” she says.

LaPrade explains that as a young 15-year-old fan she “looked up” to Jones and was initially excited by his interest in her. After she began to feel uncomfortable with his requests, they stopped talking, but she continued to listen to his music and go to his concerts. She says that she only realised the severity of his actions after his arrest.

Many young fans like Ashley are initially unable to comprehend that anything wrong – legally or morally – has happened to them. Neesey Pathan is a 20-year-old student and YouTuber who claims she was sexually harassed by Sam Pepper when she was 15. In 2014, she posted a YouTube video of her allegations, showing screenshots of alleged conversations with Pepper in which he asks her to “do a naked a dance” and show him her cleavage.

“As a young naïve 15-year old girl, I just wanted to keep talking to him because I was a huge fan,” Neesey tells me. “When he started to get inappropriate with me, at the time that made me feel uncomfortable but I didn’t understand how serious that was, because of how young I was.

“I wanted him to stop being inappropriate with me but I didn't want him to stop speaking to me.”

***

Since the concept of celebrity was invented, nefarious individuals have used their fame to manipulate and take sexual advantage of young fans. In the 1970s, Lori Mattix was a “baby groupie” to musicians – alleging in a Thrillist article that she lost her virginity to David Bowie aged just 14. When the guitarist Ted Nugent couldn’t legally marry 17-year-old Pele Massa, he became her guardian instead. Anna Garcia met Prince aged 15 and began a relationship with him aged 17. “I guess it’s kind of a dream to a young girl of 17,” she said in the Nineties. “You can be influenced very easily and stuff like that because he’s 12-13 years older than me.”

It now seems as though a slew of YouTubers have taken advantage of this imbalanced fan-creator relationship, and have deliberately exploited the naivety of their young fans. Ashley and Neesey both claim they were emotionally manipulated.

“I think I put him on this pedestal, which put him in a position to very easily manipulate me and get what he wanted,” says Neesey. “I was just so excited to get to speak to someone who I had looked up to for a long time.”

Ashley claims that when she wouldn’t film increasingly explicit videos for Jones, he treated her coldly. “He went on about how he was in a bad mood now and he didn’t want to talk any more,” she says. “If I did something wrong to him, like if I didn’t blow a kiss or something, then he would make me redo [the video].”

In 2015, Jones was first accused of asking his underage fans to film themselves twerking. In a video entitled “Setting The Record Straight”, he admitted to asking for the twerking videos and said he became suicidal after this news became public. “I’m a pretty insecure person... I began researching different suicide methods. I started planning my suicide. It’s something I was very, very serious about,” he says in the video. 

“A lot of times when we were talking he was talking about how he was going to therapy so I kind of felt bad for him and that’s why I didn't really say anything [to the authorities],” says Ashley.

The American National Domestic Violence Hotline outlines on its website that threatening suicide can be a form of emotional abuse. “If your partner regularly threatens suicide, particularly whenever you’re not doing something he or she wants you to do, or when you’re trying to leave the relationship... this is a form of emotional abuse.”

According to Neesey’s screenshots, Pepper flippantly mentioned he was “suicidal” when she refused to show him her breasts. In Olga’s blogpost about Tom Milsom, she alleges: “he’d like sob and cut himself in front of me he threatened weird suicidal shit a lot”.

“Obviously, if someone is saying to you that they're suicidal, you want to help them, because obviously they don't mean it but as a young person you think they do,” explains Neesey. “And you don't want to be held responsible for them hurting themselves and you maybe care about this person because you’ve been watching them for so long. So you’re manipulated into carrying on contact with them because if you don’t, what will happen...” 

***

To date, Lombardo is the only YouTuber who has ever been jailed for sexually abusing his fans. There are a multitude of reasons for this. Some victims are too afraid to press charges, fearing backlash from a YouTuber’s fandom. Many victims are unable to see the severity of their abuse until they are older. More still are manipulated into silence. Parents can’t comprehend YouTube stardom, and fail to understand what is happening in their children’s lives. Some victims simply don’t know which authorities to turn to.

“I'm kind of steaming about this whole issue,” says Michelle LaPrade, Ashley’s mother. “I can’t even look at a picture of the guy. It makes me want to punch him.”

At the time, Ashley never told her mother about Jones’s behaviour, but Michelle overheard conversations about it between her daughter and her friends. “I feel like a bad mother. I never even really investigated it. Because I know girls and their drama and you know, [they] overreact sometimes.”

After Jones’s arrest, Michelle wanted to report his interactions with Ashley to the authorities, but she found her local police department unhelpful. “I don't know who to turn to,” she says.

Many more victims are unaware that a crime has even occurred. “When I was 15 I didn't see how problematic it was,” says Neesey. “I knew it was a bit strange, and I did feel uncomfortable, but I didn't realise that he was actually sort of committing a crime in terms of asking a minor, as an adult, to do these things...

“It wouldn't even have crossed my mind to go to the police.”

While the UK has the large-scale Operation Yewtree into sexual abuse by celebrities, there is no equivalent for YouTube. Despite the multitude of allegations spanning half a decade, there is no single helpline or dedicated investigation into YouTube abuse. When questioned on this, a Home Office spokesperson said:

“We cannot allow social media platforms to be looked upon as a safe space for predators to target our children and share indecent images. It is vital that communication service providers have easily identifiable reporting systems for people to flag inappropriate or illegal content – and that they are clear about what is and isn’t allowed on their sites.”

A YouTube spokesperson said: “We have clear policies against harassment and we enforce these policies by removing both flagged content and comments that break our rules as well as terminating the accounts of repeat offenders.”

Sam Pepper is still on YouTube, where his channel has over two million subscribers. Alex Day returned to YouTube in December 2015, and now has over 80,000 subscribers. Austin Jones’s YouTube channel remains live, though he is not allowed to use social media before his trial.

***

“I feel like it is really hard to be taken seriously,” says Ashley. On social media, people are prone to victim-blaming Ashley and other alleged victims, saying that they should have stopped replying to the YouTubers harassing them. “Yeah, we did send stuff back but it was... we were being pressured into it and we didn't want to upset him or anything like that,” Ashley says. Her mother tells me she is glad Ashley “took the high ground” in not sending overtly sexual videos to Jones.

Unsure which authorities to speak to, many victims turn to social media to discuss their abuse. Accusations play out on Tumblr, Twitter and YouTube itself. Ashley tweeted screenshots of her interactions with Jones, while Neesey created two videos about her conversations with Pepper. Although this is an effective, and unprecedented, way for victims to get their voices heard, many online are distrustful of complaints that didn’t go through the authorities. Many more leave misogynistic and hateful comments.

“People will just be absolutely horrible to you and call you demeaning things... I got called a flirt, I got told it was all my fault because I continued speaking to him...” says Neesey, of the reaction to her videos. “I think that's a lot of the reason why people sometimes don’t come forward, because they don't want to go through all that stress again. They’ve already dealt with the situation; why would they want to deal with the stress of people being horrible to them about it?”

Some commenters criticise Neesey and other victims who have made YouTube videos and claim they were doing so for attention. “No one in their right mind would do it for attention because the attention you get is negative,” Neesey says. “I honestly don’t believe that someone would sit down and accuse someone of doing something if they didn’t mean it. So I really think it should be taken seriously.”

Whether it makes sense to those outside of the community or not, many victims' first recourse is social media, not the police or authorities. The accusations about Durte Dom – the YouTuber who allegedly filmed a 15-year-old dancing – were publicised by another YouTuber, Elijah Daniel, on his Twitter page.

Damon Fizzy is a YouTuber who called out Austin Jones after the initial accusations in 2015, and continues to do so on Twitter now. Although he agreed to speak with me, he was unable to find time to do so over a series of weeks.

For many YouTubers and their victims, social media is more important that the traditional media. Perhaps this makes sense – when the Mail Online covered the arrest of Lombardo, the YouTuber who solicited child abuse images from 11 underage fans, they added inverted commas around the word “star” in their headline. If the media and the authorities can’t take YouTube seriously, how seriously will they take accusations of YouTuber abuse?

***

In the past, YouTubers have often been good at self-policing. Hank and John Green are American brothers who run the YouTube channel Vlogbrothers, which has over three million subscribers. They own a record label, DFTBA, and run the annual YouTube convention VidCon. Lombardo and Day were DFTBA artists, and were dropped from the label after the accusations emerged. The Green brothers also banned Pepper from VidCon.

After the storm of accusations in 2014, an enormous number of popular YouTubers made videos in response. Hank Green explained consent to his audience, while the comedy YouTuber TomSka created a guide to YouTube gatherings. The popular YouTube duo Jack and Dean even made a music video about consent. The community came together to exile those who weren’t being punished in other ways. The subscriber numbers on the accused’s channels dropped dramatically.

Yet within a few months, many disgraced YouTubers can return to the platform to harness a new generation of fans, many of whom might not be aware of the accusations.

“YouTube still allows them to create content and make money off it, and that to me is just communicating that the behaviour is just not that bad. It’s sort of equivalent to a slap on the wrist and it doesn't convey the extremity of the situation of what they’ve done,” says Neesey. “I think they should be completely ostracised from the community, and have their status stripped from them, and I think YouTube should support that. Because they’re criminals.”

On Twitter, YouTuber Damon Fizzy claims he received backlash from Jones’s fans when trying to speak out years ago. “It’s crazy the backlash I received versus now. I was literally treated worse than the person who uses his underage fans for sexual gain,” he wrote.

And it’s true that YouTubers’ leagues of adoring fans can make it difficult to speak out about abuse. It is hard for many adults to understand how consuming being a young fan can be, particularly when manipulation is involved. When I ask both Ashley and Neesey what they would say to young female fans who start talking to YouTubers, they both say this is fine. Neesey warns that when a youngster becomes uncomfortable, they should end communication, but both she and Ashley feel that safe, normal fan-creator interaction is fine, indeed desirable.  

Sapphire Putt is a 20-year-old who claims a YouTuber coerced her into filming videos of herself dancing when she was 16. When I ask if she thinks it would be OK for the YouTuber to return to YouTube, she says she would be “cautious” but “wouldn’t throw the possibility of maybe giving him a chance again”.

“If he actually shows that he’s learned, you know, I would give it a chance and if he would mess it up again then that’s it, you know.”

When I ask Ashley what she would say to people who remain fans of Austin Jones she says: “I’d say that I probably understand... but they also need to understand that what he’s doing isn’t right and no one should be treated the way he is treating people.”

***

The NSPCC is currently calling for an independent regulator to scrutinise internet companies and fine them if they fail to keep children safe.

“We want the government to draw up a list of minimum standards that internet companies must observe to protect children, and children should be automatically offered safer accounts that protect them from grooming and harmful content,” an NSPCC spokesperson says.

“We know from our Childline service that online sexual exploitation is increasing so it’s vital that more is done to protect young people from abusers who use social media to target and manipulate them.”

For now, Ashley is simply glad things didn’t go further. “It's scary not knowing what could've happened, knowing that I was brainwashed like to believe it was OK, and I'm just happy he's not able to message other girls at this point,” she says.

Neesey hopes that schools will get better at teaching consent. “As a young person, I knew I felt a bit uncomfortable but I just thought that I was being dramatic... so I think people need to be educated, for sure.”  She says education needs to be improved not just in schools, but in the media.

“Unfortunately, people are sort of used to it now, after quite a few YouTubers, so it’s sort of like, ‘Oh another one.' People aren’t talking about it as much – not that it’s old news, but it’s not as shocking. People aren’t giving it as much attention as it needs.”

The NSPCC advises that if a child is worried about an online situation they should talk to a trusted adult or contact Childline on 0800 1111. Parents can find out more about talking to their child about staying safe online by searching Share Aware or visiting www.nspcc.org.uk

Amelia Tait is a technology and digital culture writer at the New Statesman.