It’s Time to Play the Music
Martijn Veldkamp
“Strategic Technology Leader | Customer’s Virtual CTO | Salesforce Expert | Helping Businesses Drive Digital Transformation”
April 17, 2025
Ever felt your design review was less constructive critique and more… relentless heckling from a balcony?
A couple of years ago, when I worked at Quint I wrote an article together with Rob Swinkels for the magazine called Informatie. It was based on the ideas of Mark de Bruin who stated that as an architect you should be aware of the role you choose in your assignment. We took that a step further (with his permission) and called it from Einstein to Mandela and added a bit of Circle of Influence and other roles. Even Livingstone!
While still a great article, perhaps the day-to-day reality of architectural life finds a more fitting comparison in the cast of The Muppet Show. Its beautiful chaos, clashing personalities, and its moments of sheer, unadulterated absurdity! Chocolate Moose…
The architectural profession, often perceived as somewhat ‘ivory towerish’, is certainly multi-faceted. While discussing spirit animals with my kids, my inner curmudgeon came out and said Waldorf and Statler. This got me thinking.
This article is a deliberately nonsensical, tongue-in-cheek look in the mirror, using the Muppet Show finest as a warped lens. Consider this a unnecessary continuation of that earlier piece and thus a bit of “Friday nonsense”. It’s a personal antidote to the serious side of business. Don’t you have meetings that you wish you just could end with a karate chop?
I had this article in draft for quite a while and was having way too much fun describing the characters and rewatching episodes.
Kermit the Frog
The Ever-Patient (and Slightly Panicked) archetype
Leading, or perhaps just trying desperately to keep the curtain from falling, is Kermit. As the de facto leader of his chaotic troupe, he’s more the group’s glue than an authoritarian figure. He embodies the Project Manager: kindhearted, polite even when faced with absurdity. Constantly trying to find balance among the clash of personalities and their demands. He leads through dreams and a desire to help his friends succeed. Can he keep pace with the backstage commotion? The high-chaos environment of architectural practice on all levels? He mediates conflicts between demanding Starchitects (Piggy-types), unpredictable creatives (Gonzo/Animal-types), and nit-picking reviewers (Statler & Waldorf-types).
He holds it all together, even if the binding agent is mostly sweat and existential dread. Okay, I’m making that up. Under extreme pressure, though, even Kermit can become cynical or bossy, revealing the strain beneath the calm green exterior.
Miss Piggy
The ‘Moi’-numental Starchitect type.
Making her grand entrance is Miss Piggy, the embodiment of the ‘Starchitect’ and a great example of the Prima Donna stereotype. She is convinced of her destiny for stardom and possesses a temperamental diva personality. Criticism is not tolerated. And any perceived slight might be met with a swift “Hi-yah!” karate chop.
French phrases are adding an air of sophistication to statements like, “Kermie, darling, the client’s budget is merely a suggestion, non? The Starchitect’s aggressive defense of their vision could potentially mask a deeper need for validation. In a profession where egos can be both large and fragile, sometimes appearing simultaneously, the diva-like behavior might serve as a performative shield against insecurity.
Fozzie Bear
The Relentlessly Optimistic
The insecure stand-up comic and relentlessly enthusiastic concept pitcher. He desires nothing more than to make people laugh. And be loved by his audience. He presents ideas with infectious enthusiasm often punctuated by his hopeful catchphrase.
His jokes are often met with groans, particularly from Waldorf and Statler and. Fozzie’s takes criticism hard and feels crushed by negative feedback. He looks to his best friend Kermit for leadership and validation, his approval making or breaking Fozzie’s day. Fozzie embodies this emotional risk, making supportive team dynamics crucial to weather the inevitable ‘heckling’.
Gonzo the Great
The Visionary
Then there’s Gonzo, the performer of dangerous stunts. As an archetype, he’s the experimental designer. He embraces weirdness, seeking artistic meaning in chaos. His plans might resemble performance art manifestos more than design decision documents.
Yet, Gonzo isn’t just weird for weirdness sake. Beneath the zany stunts lies a surprising sensitive, philosophical, and a melancholic persona;ity. He has an almost poetic desire to create something meaningful and unique.
Animal
Instinctual designer
Animal operates on raw energy and instinct. He’s the chaotic creative. And has trouble communicating design intent. “DESIGN! GOOD! BUILD! NOW!”.
He often needs supervision (like his bandmate Floyd keeping him chained to the drum kit). The Animal architect ignores constraints, budgets, and sometimes physics. Yet, Animal is also a savant, a versatile and capable musician when focused. Occasionally, the Animal architect produces a flash of brilliance, usually by accident, amidst the chaos. The key is finding the right context and guidance to channel the raw energy away from pure destruction towards productive, if still LOUD, design.
Statler & Waldorf
The Balcony Critics
AKA the jaded senior architect who’s seen it all and is thoroughly unimpressed. They find fault with everything, often with sarcastic glee, bursting into laughter at their own witty criticisms.
They embody the resistance to change, the mentally retired attitude sometimes encountered in long-established figures. They’ll question every decision and predict project failure with smug satisfaction. Despite constantly complaining about the show, they always return for the next performance. Their consistent attendance despite their negativity suggests their criticism might be somewhat performative, stemming from their own fixed perspectives and enjoyment of heckling, rather than evaluation aimed at improvement.
This archetype represents criticism potentially rooted in defending the status quo or asserting authority, rather than fostering innovation.
Swedish Chef
The Bork-tastic
Known for his incomprehensible mock-Swedish gibberish. And crazy cooking methods involving bizarre tools like firearms, he represents to me the highly specialized technical architect. His explanations are impenetrable technical jargon “Urdy Boordy, flipperdy schnurde, de R-value!”.
Communication inevitably breaks down, often ending with something exploding (“Bork, bork, bork!”). The Chef’s combination of incomprehensible jargon and unconventional methods humorously reflects the communication gap that can arise between technical specialists and the broader team.
While potentially innovative, their expertise can become counterproductive if not translatable or practical.
No actual Muppets (or architects) were harmed in the making of this article
Perhaps there’s a grain of truth in the madness. Do you recognize the frazzled but determined Kermit in your project, trying to steer the ship through stormy seas? Have you encountered the diva demands of a Miss Piggy-esque designer? Or felt the crushing weight of Statler and Waldorf’s critiques during a presentation?
Maybe, just maybe, you see a bit of Fozzie’s desperate need for approval in one of your own pitches, or Animal’s raw energy in a caffeine-fueled deadline sprint? Or perhaps you’re the Gonzo, passionately advocating for a truly bizarre idea, wondering why no one else quite gets your vision for AI agents deploying self build LWC components?
Ultimately, the comparison is ridiculous. Yet, sometimes, embracing the ridiculous is the only way to maintain sanity when the deadline looms large, the client is heckling from the virtual balcony, and someone (Animal!) appears to have broken every unit test in the system.
