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Frank Gehry, who has died aged 96, influenced the course of global design at least on two distinct occasions. First, in the 1970s, his informal style revealed how materials like industrial fencing could be transformed into an powerful art form. Second, in the nineties, he showcased the use of software to create radically new shapes, giving birth to the undulating titanium curves of the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao and a fleet of similarly crumpled structures.

An Architectural Turning Point

After it was inaugurated in 1997, the shimmering titanium Guggenheim seized the imagination of the design world and international media. It was hailed as the prime example of a new era of digitally-driven design and a masterful piece of urban sculpture, writhing along the waterfront, a blend of renaissance palace and part ship. Its influence on cultural institutions and the art world was immense, as the so-called “Bilbao effect” transformed a post-industrial city in Spain’s north into a premier tourist destination. In just 24 months, aided by a media feeding frenzy, Gehry’s museum was said with generating hundreds of millions to the local economy.

In the eyes of some, the spectacle of the container was deemed to overwhelm the artworks within. The critic Hal Foster contended that Gehry had “provided patrons too much of what they want, a sublime space that dwarfs the viewer, a spectacular image that can travel through the media as a global brand.”

More than any other architect of his era, Gehry amplified the role of architecture as a brand. This marketing power proved to be his greatest asset as well as a point of criticism, with some later projects veering toward self-referential cliche.

From Toronto to the “Cheapskate Aesthetic”

{A rumpled character who wore casual attire, Gehry’s informal demeanor was central to his architecture—it was consistently innovative, accessible, and willing to take risks. Gregarious and quick to grin, he was “Frank” to his clients, with whom he frequently cultivated lifelong relationships. Yet, he could also be impatient and cantankerous, particularly in his later life. On one notable occasion in 2014, he derided much modern architecture as “pure shit” and reportedly gave a journalist the one-finger salute.

Hailing from Toronto, Canada, Frank was the son of Jewish immigrants. Experiencing antisemitism in his youth, he changed his surname from Goldberg to Gehry in his twenties, a move that eased his career path but later brought him regret. Paradoxically, this early suppression led him to later embrace his Jewish background and role as an outsider.

He relocated to California in 1947 and, following working as a truck driver, earned an architecture degree. Subsequent time in the army, he enrolled in city planning at Harvard but left, disenchanted. He then worked for practical modernists like Victor Gruen and William Pereira, an experience that cultivated what Gehry termed his “low-budget realism,” a tough or “dirty realism” that would influence a wave of designers.

Artistic Alliances and Path to Distinction

Before developing his distinctive style, Gehry worked on small-scale conversions and studios for artists. Feeling overlooked by the Los Angeles architectural establishment, he sought camaraderie with artists for acceptance and inspiration. These seminal friendships with artists like Robert Rauschenberg and Claes Oldenburg, from whom he learned the techniques of canny transformation and a “funk aesthetic” sensibility.

Inspired by more conceptual artists like Richard Serra, he learned the power of repetition and simplification. This blending of influences crystallized his unique aesthetic, perfectly suited to the southern California culture of the era. A major project was his 1978 residence in Santa Monica, a small house encased in chain-link and other everyday materials that became notorious—loved by the progressive but despised by neighbors.

Digital Breakthrough and Global Icon

The true breakthrough came when Gehry started harnessing computer software, specifically CATIA, to translate his ever-more-ambitious visions. The first full-scale result of this was the design for the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao in 1991. Here, his longstanding motifs of abstracted fish curves were brought together in a powerful grammar sheathed in shimmering titanium, which became his hallmark material.

The extraordinary success of Bilbao—the “effect”—echoed worldwide and cemented Gehry’s status as a global starchitect. Prestigious commissions poured in: the Walt Disney Concert Hall in Los Angeles, a tower in New York, the Louis Vuitton Foundation in Paris, and a campus building in Sydney that resembled a stack of crumpled paper.

His fame transcended architecture; he appeared on *The Simpsons*, designed a headpiece for Lady Gaga, and collaborated with figures from Brad Pitt to Mark Zuckerberg. However, he also completed modest and personal projects, such as a Maggie’s Centre in Dundee, designed as a poignant tribute.

Legacy and Personal Life

Frank Gehry received countless honors, including the Pritzker Prize (1989) and the Presidential Medal of Freedom (2016). Central to his success was the support of his second wife, Berta Aguilera, who handled the business side of his practice. She, along with their two sons and a daughter from his first marriage, survive him.

Frank Owen Gehry, born on February 28, 1929, leaves behind a world permanently shaped by his daring forays into form, technology, and the very idea of what a building can be.