The Elusive Nature of Landmarks: A Deeper Look into Architecture Design

What defines a landmark?

It's a question that may seem obvious at first—until we look deeper. From towering icons like the Eiffel Tower or the Burj Khalifa to ancient wonders like the Pyramids, the word landmark often conjures striking visuals. But the true essence of a landmark isn’t just in its silhouette—it lies in its ability to mark the land, to inscribe meaning onto space.

Landmarks are not just objects of admiration; they are deeply embedded in the narratives of power, identity, and collective memory. They function as symbols, storytellers, and, at times, instruments of control. In an age increasingly obsessed with iconic design, understanding the layered significance of landmarks is more important than ever.

Landmarks Comparison: One World Trade Center, the main building of the rebuilt World Trade Center complex in Lower Manhattan, New York City. The Shard, represents neo-futurism’s architectural trend, characterized by dynamic forms, technological innovation, and environmental sustainability.

Rethinking the Landmark: Beyond Shape and Spectacle

Traditionally, landmarks are understood as buildings or structures that are highly recognizable—distinguished by size, form, or prominence. But to view them solely through the lens of appearance is reductive.

Landmarks are:

• Markers of Change: They signify turning points—political shifts, cultural transformations, or historical ruptures. A new government complex, a memorial, or even a razed building can all become spatial indicators of change.

• Embodiments of Power: The tallest towers, the grandest plazas, the most expensive facades—these often reflect the dominant ideologies and economic systems of their time. Skyscrapers, for example, are not just feats of engineering; they are also expressions of capital and ambition.

A landmark is rarely neutral. It reflects the values and forces that shape its creation—and often, its survival.

Landmarks Comparison: Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris, a medieval Catholic cathedral and iconic symbol of France, considered one of the finest examples of French Gothic architecture. Cologne Cathedral, the largest Gothic church in Northern Europe, influenced by French Gothic cathedrals like Notre-Dame de Paris and Amiens, with added Romanesque elements from local tradition.

From Piazza to Power Structure

To understand landmarks in a historical context, consider the role of the piazza. These central urban spaces were never just about social gathering. They were designed to express and manage power—to frame cathedrals, palaces, or civic buildings within a controlled visual and spatial hierarchy.

Architecture is a social act and the material theater of human activity. ~ Spiro Kostof

Landmarks are active participants in the shaping of public life. Whether in ancient city-states or modern metropolises, they are tools—used to inspire, intimidate, unite, or divide.

The Origin of the Word "Landmark"

The etymology of the word adds yet another layer. Derived from Old English terms like landmearc or landgemirce, “landmark” originally referred to boundaries or visible indicators that marked limits.

This historical root highlights that landmarks were always more than mere points of interest—they were territorial. They defined where something began or ended. Who belonged, and who did not. This spatial logic still persists today, especially in contested territories and geopolitical zones.

The Seduction—and Risk—of Iconicity

In contemporary architecture, the pursuit of "iconic" design has become almost obligatory. Cities compete for skyline-defining landmarks as symbols of global relevance. But the cost of this icon-centric mindset is often overlooked.

• The Cult of the Icon: Prioritizing iconic form can lead to shallow, disconnected design—buildings that photograph well but function poorly, or worse, fail to resonate with their communities.

• Aesthetic Distortion: When appearance overshadows intention, architecture becomes a spectacle, masking unresolved social, environmental, or urban challenges beneath a sleek skin.

An architect should always ask: What kind of life should this place create? ~ Jan Gehl, Danish Architect

The question of life—of lived experience—must come before the question of legacy.

Landmarks Comparison: Dufferin Gate, a Toronto A ceremonial gateway marking the entrance to Exhibition Place symbolizes celebration and public gathering. Unknown Soldier Monument by Rifat Chadirji, Baghdad A modernist monument blending abstraction and symbolism, commemorating sacrifice and national memory in Iraq. The Gateway Arch, St. Louis: The world’s tallest arch and the tallest human-made monument in the Western Hemisphere, symbolizing expansion and the American frontier.

Landmarks in Times of War and Crisis

Landmarks take on different roles in periods of conflict. They can serve as symbols of resilience—or become targets of erasure.

During World War II, cities like Dresden and Hiroshima saw their built heritage reduced to rubble. These acts weren’t random—they were calculated efforts to dismantle cultural identity and national pride. The destruction of landmarks was, and often still is, a psychological strategy in warfare.

On the other hand, some landmarks become spaces of protection. In certain conflict zones, the United Nations marks rooftops and structures as neutral ground—places of safety that must not be targeted. These aren’t “landmarks” in the aesthetic sense, but they carry life-saving significance. They demonstrate how markings on the land can wield not just symbolic power, but practical impact.

Still, even these forms of protection are vulnerable. When power shifts, the rules change. What is marked as safe can become a target. What was once a shelter can become a site of tragedy. In these moments, the idea of the landmark is at its most fragile—and its most revealing.

Toward a Human-Centered Landmark

In the rush to define place with iconicity, we risk losing the human dimension. True landmarks do not emerge solely from the drawing boards of starchitects or the budgets of developers. They emerge from the stories, needs, and aspirations of the people they serve.

Human-centered design calls for:

• Narrative Integrity: A landmark should tell a compelling story—rooted in local history, culture, and context. It should speak with the land, not just on it.

• Social Responsibility: Design should foster inclusivity, accessibility, and long-term sustainability. A building is not truly “important” if it serves only a privileged few.

This isn’t a rejection of beauty or innovation. It’s a call to remember that the most enduring landmarks are those that resonate not only on the skyline, but in the hearts of those who live around them.

Landmarks Comparison: The Great Pyramid of Giza, the largest Egyptian pyramid and the only surviving Wonder of the Ancient World, built as the tomb of Pharaoh Khufu and part of the UNESCO World Heritage Site “Memphis and its Necropolis.” The Louvre Pyramid, a postmodern glass pyramid at the Louvre Museum in Paris, blending modern transparency with ancient Egyptian symbolism and classical French architecture, creates a dialogue between past and present.

Reading the Landscape Differently

To understand landmarks is to look beyond the surface—to read the land for its marks, both visible and invisible. They are signs of who we were, who we are, and who we are becoming. They reflect the forces we celebrate, the histories we remember, and sometimes, the truths we try to forget.

As designers, thinkers, and city-dwellers, we must challenge ourselves to ask not just what a landmark looks like, but what it means. And perhaps, more importantly: Who does it serve? Who does it include—or exclude? And how might it evolve?

In the end, a landmark is not defined by its fame or form—but by the way it anchors us to the land, and to each other.