Designing Creativity: The Architecture of Coworking Spaces and the Impact on a “New Way of Working”
Jack Stanley [ Instagram ] [ Website ]
This essay looks at the design and architecture of co-working spaces in London, particularly the way that these buildings aim to facilitate creative working and community building. It employs the idea of the “social factory” to show how work-orientated social relations have spread beyond the domains traditionally associated with employment. To conclude, this essay aims to demonstrate that office design is not a “passive backdrop” but a way of socialising people and shaping how they behave. Despite this new “lounge space” aesthetic of offices, this remains true.
Introduction
During the second episode of the second season of Succession (2019), Kendall Roy – the scion of established media giant Waystar Royco – visits the office of new media start up Vaulter. The office is immediately recognisable to anyone who has worked in a so-called “creative” job in the last two decades. There are the industrial-style design features – from exposed wiring to unplastered concrete walls – as well as the banks of desks, complete with workers in hoodies and caps, and even a bright pink neon light declaring the company’s name.
In an episode during the first season (Succession, 2018), Roy has a meeting with Vaulter at his own office, that of Waystar Royco, which is all white walls, tasteful art and glass divides. The contrast between the two companies and their ways of working is clear. The tradition of the old, corporate power versus the creative upstart with a new way of working, as one character describes it, one side is “dinosaurs” while the other is “the most exciting new media brand in the world.”
While both companies in Succession are fictitious, their attitudes mirror wider trends in corporate culture and office design. The new media, creative workspace of Vaulter can be seen in cities across the world, its post-industrial design recognisable from coworking spaces to design studios. This nascent ubiquity is why the office design is so important to the portrayal of Vaulter within Succession: one brief look at its office and viewers are immediately familiar with the type of company it represents.
While most anthropological writings about architecture and the built environment focus on dwellings and houses, the office has become another focus of research. Over the course of the 20th century, offices became an integral presence of most urban areas, a place where people spent a third of each day, socialising with others and being socialised at the same time (Buchli 2014, 89). As the importance of offices grew, their design changed as employers searched for new ways to create the perfect, comfortable environment for extracting labour (Murphy 2006, 34).
In that process of changing design, there has been a general trend towards a more open plan, creative environment, beginning in the 1960s with a disruption to the “corporate aesthetic of status and order” (Murphy 2006, 51). At that time, desks began to be organised in new ways, breaking from divisions of hierarchy or team into new ideas about communication flows and open dialogue. These open plans designed prospered, although that had more to do with the ability to squeeze more people into the space than it did with the “democratising ideals of interrank communication” (Murphy 2006, 51).
This process has continued far beyond the 1960s, with the cubicles associated with the 1980s giving way to the post-industrial start up office and, in more recent years, the rise of coworking spaces. This shift can partly be traced back to the rise of Silicon Valley, where offices are described as campuses and make room for meditation, games and play (Morgan and Nelligan 2018, 119.) In an aesthetic sense, these Silicon Valley spaces show some continuity to the “creative” offices that preceded them. Exposed concrete abounds, comfortable sofas and “break out spaces” are dotted throughout and inspirational yet playful slogans appear on the walls. This is not your normal office, the aesthetic implies, this is a new way of working.
Office design is not merely a “passive backdrop,” but instead an active participant in shaping the ways we behave (Murphy 2006, 37). This essay will look at how this is achieved through coworking spaces, and the impact their design has on incubating a new way of working. Drawing upon the idea of the “social factory,” this essay will show how coworking spaces give the illusion of creating the social while remaining economically focused on the extraction of labour (Gill and Pratt 2018). The essay draws upon academic research and time spent at three coworking spaces – Drop-In in Clapton, East London, The Spaces in Clerkenwell, Central London and Huckletree in Soho, Central London – all of which share striking similarities in their design and construction.
Case Study 1: Drop-In, East London
Figure 1: The exterior of Drop-In Clapton. Source: Photo taken by the author
Figure 2: The exterior of Drop-In Clapton. Source: Photo taken by the author
Approaching Drop-In, it’s easy to think that you are walking into a new coffee shop, the like of which you will find all over London, New York or any other city. In reality, Drop-In is a coworking space (complete with coffee shop) that describes itself as “your local work club.” The large windows explain how it works, with cartoon-style illustrations illustrating “on demand co-working” and “world class” coffee (fig. 1).
Entering the building, the visitor is greeted by a receptionist – who doubles up as barista – sitting behind a large desk at the front of the room. Directly in front of them is an automatic glass gate, separating the public entry area and the coworking space beyond, one open only to members and their guests. While all of Drop-In’s marketing literature talks about community, both the one contained within the space and the local community around it, the gate is a reminder that this is an exclusive space, reserved for those with a paid membership.
Drop-In’s design shares obvious similarities with the new media space shown in Succession and other ideas of the creative office. The exposed concrete walls are finished with industrial touches including metal wiring and visible cables, while the pipes in the ceiling remain visible. Drop-In is located on the ground floor of a recently built development (fig. 2), which means that its allusions to a previous industrial history are nothing more than a design choice.
The industrial design of the space ties it into a wider aesthetic associated with creative workplaces. The exposed materials – Drop-In mixes concrete with wood for its interior – are a nod to factories, warehouses and lofts, which were once repurposed by a new creative class as their studios (Austin and Sharr 2021, 77). Much like the advent of open plan offices that disrupted the previous norms, these spaces bear little resemblance to traditional offices (Morgan and Nelligan 2018, 121). Instead, the design choices place Drop-In into a lineage of creative work and start-up culture. This echoes the familiar trope about coworking spaces, that this is a new way of working, more creative and more collaborative, than the strict corporate spaces of traditional offices.
Figure 3: The interior furnishings of Drop-In Clapton. Source: Photo taken by the author
Differentiating coworking spaces like the Drop-In from other, more traditional offices goes further than just the concrete walls. Playful art is hung all around, and breaks are punctuated in the banks of shared desks by sofas and coffee tables, each covered in carefully curated magazines and books. Some furniture in the space continues the industrial influence, particularly through hard wooden desks, while other pieces are soft, comfortable and tasteful, such as mid-century sofas and a long banquette to encourage more relaxed work (fig. 3).
As with many coworking spaces, the idea of community is key to Drop-In. Online reviews from members praise the “legitimate sense of community” (drop-in.com 2023), and there are numerous initiatives designed to foster this community, including regular events for the membership. During my visit, a member of the team shows me a section of the app in which members can search for other members based on their skills and expertise. The idea is to encourage collaboration across all Drop-In members. Their marketing literature references this, pointing to the days in which co-working was “a place for freelancers, entrepreneurs, and creatives to come together under one roof” (drop-in.com 2023).
The design of Drop-In is also intended to foster this community between members. The break-out spaces can fit more than one person, and computer screens are located on long wooden desks. You may visit on your own, but you can guarantee you will be sitting next to someone else as you would a colleague in a more traditional office.
Case Study 2: Huckletree, Soho
Figure 4: The exterior of Huckletree, Soho. Source: Photo taken by the author
Figure 5: The reception area of Huckletree, Soho. Source: Photo taken by the author
Huckletree in Soho, Central London, shares many of the designs associated with creative work and coworking spaces. The first thing any visitor sees upon arrival is a bright pink neon light hanging in the ground floor window, encouraging everyone to “Stay Curious” (fig. 4). Huckletree’s Soho location is set on the first four floors of a concrete, brutalist building which functions mostly as a residential development. While this building was finished in 1972, the interior of Huckletree’s office, like other coworking spaces, gives the impression of being unfinished. Whole sections of wall are constructed from corrugated metal, while air vents and wiring run across the ceiling, left visible to all visitors (fig. 5).
The entrance to the building opens directly onto the reception desk, where an iPad offers check in and two receptionists work, checking membership details and helping to register visitors. As with other coworking spaces, the immediate confrontation with entry requirements and figures of authority contrasts the otherwise open plan space and the idea of community that these spaces are apparently designed to foster. It is a reminder that the benefits of coworking – creative spaces and community activities – are only available to those who have paid their fees.
Figure 6: The cafe area at Huckletree, Soho. Source: Photo taken by the author
The design and internal architecture of Huckletree once again remind visitors of the focus on community. To the left of the reception is an open plan café area, where members work on laptops while drinking coffee (fig. 6). On the other side is another informal area for work, with turquoise banquettes either side of shared tables and long sofas. Huckletree talks up the benefits of these areas, pointing to the “breakout collaboration zones” that can be found throughout, as well as the “regular themed members’ events” on offer (huckletree.com, 2024). On its website, the company states that “innovation flourishes within a lively community of like-minded individuals” (huckletree.com, 2024).
Whether it’s the café area or other “breakout zones,” a casual approach to work is a key selling point of Huckletree. The company describes this as catering to “contemporary working styles” (huckletree.com, 2024), which returns to the idea of a new way of working that is closely linked to coworking spaces and the way they are marketed. At Huckletree, this comes in the form of its “floating” membership structure, allowing members to “float across open plan and break out zones” (huckletree.com, 2024).
On its website, Huckletree describes these spaces as “inspiring and trusted” contained within “hubs” that “are designed to inspire and delight our members and foster collaboration, conversation, well-being, morale and productivity.” The company also refers to its “fun approach to hospitality” that it hopes will “redefine the worksplace experience” (huckletree.com, 2024). Throughout all this language is the idea that this is not a traditional way of working, linking it more closely to hospitality than office culture and an atmosphere that will inspire creativity rather than dampen enthusiasm. To achieve this goal, Huckletree employs many of the hallmarks of so-called creative work, including the breakout spaces, post-industrial design and a tasteful colour palette of soft blues and pale pinks.
Case Study 3: The Spaces, Farringdon
Figure 7: The front door to The Spaces, Farringdon. Source: Photo taken by the author
Figure 8: The foyer of The Spaces, Farringdon. Source: Photo taken by the author
The commitment of The Spaces – a global chain of coworking spaces – to a new way of working can be seen stuck to the door of its outpost in Farringdon, Central London. “Welcome home. Oops, we meant ‘welcome to work’” (fig. 7) reads the display on the glass of the door. This is a preferred marketing format for The Spaces, with another London location featuring displays encouraging visitors to “ready the mind. Start sharing ideas” and stating that “what you see here could be your new way of working.”
The interior of The Spaces in Farringdon is awash with the now-familiar industrial design details. This was the third coworking space I visited, and I was not surprised to see exposed concrete flooring, bright, tasteful furniture, and potted plants when I arrived (fig. 8). There were rough metal walls, punctured with pre-worn mirrors surrounding the visitor. The space is situated in an old, industrial-looking building, which implies that this design may be a reference to the building’s heritage. Nothing, however, is an original feature, or indeed one that has been there for very long.
Ascending to The Spaces area on the first floor, the exposed materials continue, however this time there is a huge amount of wood, rather than the metal and steel of the entrance and other coworking spaces. Immediately opposite the door is a small breakout area, with a wooden chair, small sofa and coffee table all situated beneath the company’s “manifesto” (fig. 9). The coworking space is U-shaped, and turning to the left the use of wood continues, covering more breakout areas – benches either side of a table – and a reception unit. Further around there is yet more wood, including sparsely used bookshelves, a selection of tables and a yet-to-open café.
Figure 9: A breakout area at The Spaces, Farringdon. Source: Photo taken by the author
Unlike both Drop-In and Huckletree, the industrial focus feels much less evident. The use of wood throughout the space creates a different atmosphere, more library reading room than factory floor. Despite this difference in appearance, and the feeling it engenders, The Spaces shares many of the same outward intentions as the other spaces visited.
The Spaces’ website recalls other familiar tropes of coworking spaces. There is, of course, the focus on community – described online as “an energetic community of positive and open-minded business thinkers who love to meet new people” – which is supported by a calendar of events. The Spaces also directly references the design of its spaces in this context, detailing the “inspiring sophisticated European design” that “involves people in the buzz and energy.” The idea that this is a new way of working, one divorced from the stuffy and staid atmosphere of traditional offices, is also reinforced by the way the company talks about the “free-spirited vibe” in its “dynamic workspaces” (spacesworks.com, 2024).
While the materials and overall aesthetic may differ, The Spaces is still designed to facilitate a new way of working, one that encourages creativity and community rather than clockwatching and monotonous work. The key question, though, is the role that the design and architecture play in creating this. Also, crucially, does it work? In the next sections I will examine the similarities in design and intention across the three sites, looking at relevant literature to explore their impact on those who work there.
Imagined Communities
As the examples show, there are several similarities in the design of coworking spaces. All three share an idea of a different way of working, something which is regularly espoused on the walls and door of The Spaces, and their architecture is aimed to create this way of working. While what exactly is new about this way of working is rarely, if ever, explicitly said, the coworking spaces visited use terms such as community and creativity in their marketing literature. From the internal architecture of each place to the art displayed and the furniture available, the design of each environment continues to reiterate those ideas.
The search for community is a common feature of all coworking spaces, and in many senses the original idea that drove freelancers and remote workers to find spaces in which they can work alone, together. The communities that arise in these spaces provide a fleeting relief from some of the issues with being self-employed. Members of coworking spaces are given the sense of belonging to a community built upon “solidarity, care and passion,” which is often positioned in contrast to the corporate and individual nature of capitalist work life (Nielsen and Mangor 2022, 15).
While the community may appear to be built upon social ideas – based around pizza and beer evenings supplied by the coworking space’s management, or impromptu coffees or games of table tennis – it also creates demand sharing between various members. On one hand this can be beneficial, allowing newer members to seek advice and learn from others, however there is the expectation that at some point, this will become a reciprocral arrangement, either formally or informally (Nielsen and Mangor 2022, 23). Perhaps Drop-In, with its app suggesting these collaborations, shows how this idea of sharing and helping can become formalised and expected quickly.
The talk may often be of community, but what is being created is collaboration. Community implies a predominantly social component to these interactions, whereas collaboration makes it clearer that the desired purpose is work-orientated. These buildings are designed to be informal and, with their cafes and communal spaces, to encourage networking between members, creating the idea that members are part of something bigger, not just an organisation but a network of potential projects and a new way of working (Morgan and Nelligan 2018, 121).
In this sense, the focus on collaboration shows how coworking spaces are the latest example of the social factory, in which the workforce’s entire life is increasingly tied to capital and production rather than work being a distinct and defined part of life (Gill and Pratt 2008, 17). This idea emerged in the 1960s for the ways that the social relations of capitalism had expanded beyond traditional areas of work. Coworking spaces create the social – through their “community” activities and through the breakout spaces and lounge areas of their design – while also being a place to extract labour. Coworking spaces blur the lines between work and play, between employment and wider life, and thus show how the social factory has expanded into these areas. A grey area arises in discussions of the social factory as to whether this creeping takeover of non-work life is due to wider factors or just due to passion for the work, something often spoken about by those in creative fields (Gill and Pratt 2008, 18).
Lounge Space
The breakout zones and communal areas are one of the central features of coworking spaces. It is in these areas where chance meetings and impromptu conversations that drive creativity are believed to happen, signifying coworking as a new way to work. The architecture and design of these areas has in the past been described as “lounge space,” somewhere that “forms a loose-fit landscape of varied seating threaded through with meandering circulation” and an aesthetic that references “modish hipster café retro, IKEA mass-market modernism, and heritage nostalgia” (Austin and Sharr 2021, 76).
The lounge space aesthetic can be seen throughout the coworking spaces visited for this research. There are exposed brick walls, wooden finishes, and rough concrete, all of which recall the lofts and warehouses often associated with tech start-ups and scrappy new competitors (Austin and Sharr 2021, 77). This aesthetic has now become desired and commodified, something both reassuring and attractive in its familiarity, that can be further monetised (Austin and Sharr 2020, 137). Lounge space is no longer just an unsatisfying non-place associated, but an aesthetic of choice for the creative cities, as shown by its relationship to London’s coworking spaces.
The appeal of this aesthetic style is, in part, due to the differences from more traditional offices. However, it also gains traction from the creative associations of such a style. Bare bricks and exposed materials are deliberately reminiscent of both artists’ studios in disused industrial spaces, and the loft-like style of early tech start ups and new media companies. By evoking these spaces, newer offices appear to be attempting to evoke the creativity associated with them as well.
As with all lounge spaces, the design of these coworking spaces implies a non-hierarchical and free space (Austin and Sharr 2021, 78). As discussed previously, though, there are rules to these spaces, from time limits on certain areas to membership fees and entry requirements. Despite the appearance of freedom, visitors are subtly reminded that there is a contract between themselves and the powers that govern the space (Augé 1995, 101).
The link between lounge space and the social factory is a strong one. In the same way that the social factory has seen all aspects of life tied to capital and the extraction of labour, the rise of lounge space shows how work can become spread across all features of daily life (Austin and Sharr 2021, 88). In their use of creative design and breakout spaces, coworking buildings show this. Sofas are no longer for relaxing, they are to encourage work; street art-inspired prints on the walls are not for looking at, but to develop a creative atmosphere for working; the in-house coffee shops are not for catching up with friends, they are to drive your work and your so-called creativity. The design of these spaces allows for the lines between work and life to be deliberately blurred, giving the illusion of rest while putting everyone to work (Austin and Sharr 2021, 90).
The coworking spaces visited show similar allusions to lounge space, both in the aesthetics themselves – faux industrial exposed concrete, brick and wood; tasteful furniture – and in their use of space. From the lounge areas of Drop-In to the “urban gardens” of Huckletree, these buildings have areas designed to give the illusion of choice and freedom from traditional work. Members of these coworking spaces appear to be their own bosses, choosing how and when to work, as well as which type of seat or desk to work at. All of these spaces, though, still require a realignment of body and mind as people prepare to work, developing habits and processes that are still aimed at supporting economic needs (Austin and Sharr 2021, 90). While the design of office space may have changed with the rise of coworking spaces, the function and intention has not. As a relatively new phenomenon, it remains to be seen whether they are any better at fostering creativity and community than the workplaces that came before them. When considered through the lens of the social factory, it’s unclear whether or not that would even be beneficial.
Conclusion
Creativity itself is often associated with leisure and play, therefore it sits between private and public spheres (Morgan and Nelligan 2018, 141). The design and architecture of coworking spaces is intended to foster creativity – an indefinable, mythical act – by encouraging collaboration with breakout spaces and communal cafes as well as aesthetic inclination towards lounge space. While these buildings may be designed to facilitate a new way of working, the end goal is still the same. The freelancers and companies-of-one who often make up the members of coworking spaces all operate in the social factory, where they must carry “the burden of reproducing themselves in professional terms,” including covering their own office costs (Morgan and Nelligan 2018, 121). Coworking spaces, therefore, show how the outsourcing of labour also includes the outsourcing of the costs of labour onto individuals.
This is a departure from the roots of coworking, which was originally led by workers in response to changing economic conditions, freelancers who sought to combine the social aspect of traditional work with the freedom of a more independent approach (De Peuter et al 2017, 689-690). Nowadays, though, coworking has become something different. It still maintains that gloss of freedom and creativity, but is operated by faceless, hidden companies who are only visible through subtle signs of regulation. There is another difference with the early days, when these spaces were set up to counteract the issues of loneliness and precarity for freelance workers, however those issues are now sustained by this system. Coworking therefore is both a reaction to and driver of “the fragmentation of employment into so many ‘gigs’, the rise of involuntary entrepreneurialism and the restructuring of firms according to a contracting-out model” (De Peuter et al 2017, 691).
This system is driven in no small part by the architecture and design of these spaces. The reason that the three coworking spaces analysed – as well as many others across the world – share the same aesthetic hallmarks is because these are the markers of a so-called creative workspace. One where you are not rigidly attached to your desk but free to work anywhere; one where you can drop-in whenever you like; and one where networking is simply hanging out with likeminded people. The open-plan architecture and casual design details imply that there is no power structure in these spaces (De Peuter et al 2017, 698).
The public-private nature of creativity means that it is developed using different “cultural and emotional energies” than more traditional ways of working, which must be allowed to flourish in other ways (Morgan and Nelligan 2018, 118). That in part explains the ways companies – and particularly those behind coworking spaces – design and describe the work environments; they “seek to harvest the creative bounty by camouflaging the workplace” (Morgan and Nelligan 2018, 119).
As the three coworking spaces mentioned previously show, there is a shared design language across these environments. There are the industrial details, the tasteful furniture, and the visible pronouncements of a new way of working. That new way of working is viewed as more relaxed and collaborative, designed to tease out the mythical “creativity” from the people who work there. While the design may be different, and the way of working may be new, these spaces share the same function as the offices they replace: to extract labour from those within. Indeed, with the talk of flexibility and freedom – as shown by the membership structures and the community-focused design – they place the burden of extracting this labour onto the very members who’s labour they are extracting.
References
Augé, M. (1995), Non-Places: Introduction to an Anthropology of Supermodernity (trans. by Howe, J.) London
Austin, S., and Sharr, A. (2020), “The Collective: Luxury in Lounge Space” in Roberts, J. and Armitage, A. (eds) The Third Realm of Luxury: Connecting Real Places and Imaginary Spaces, Bloomsbury
Austin, S., and Sharr, A. (2021), “The University of Nonstop Society: Campus Planning, Lounge Space, and Incessant Productivity” in Architecture and Culture (9)1
Buchli, V. (2014), An Anthropology of Architecture, Bloomsbury
De Peuter, G., Cohen, N. S., and Saraco, F. (2017), “The Ambivalence of Coworking: On the Politics of an Emerging Practice” in European Journal of Cultural Studies, 20(6)
drop-in.com (2023), accessed on 12/04/2024
Gill, R., and Pratt, A. (2018), “In the Social Factory?: Immaterial Labour, Precariousness and Cultural Work” in Theory, Culture and Society 25(7-8)
huckletree.com (2024), accessed on 17/04/2024
Morgan, G., and Nelligan, P. (2018), The Creativity Hoax: Precarious Work in the Gig Economy
Murphy, M. (2006), Sick Building Syndrome and the Problem of Uncertainty: Environmental Politics, Technoscience, and Women Workers, Duke University Press
spacesworks.com (2024), accessed on 17/04/2024
“Celebration” (2018) Succession, Season 1, episode 1. HBO, 3 June
“Vaulter” (2019) Succession, Season 2, episode 2. HBO, 18 August