Still available from the BBC's online shop is the 2003 book Building the BBC: A Return to Form - in fact, its price has been slashed from £20 to just £4. As the title suggests, the in-house publication celebrates the dawning of a new era of architectural enlightenment for the nation's broadcaster, and its introduction paints scenarios of contented workers, enthralled punters and phoenixes rising from ashes, all within the next couple of years. "The BBC has found its nerve again and risen to its role as national champion and patron of the arts," writes Dan Cruickshank, in the book's foreword, "and in the last three years [it] has commissioned a series of major buildings that suggest an artistic renaissance is taking place within the corporation." Leading the way are three flagship buildings commissioned from three of Britain's top architects: a revamp of its jewel-in-the-crown Broadcasting House in London by Sir Richard MacCormac; a smart new BBC Scotland centre in Glasgow by David Chipperfield Architects; and the forward-looking Music Box, a home for the BBC's orchestras at its White City HQ in west London, by rising stars Foreign Office Architects.  The plans were universally applauded at the time; the BBC was even named "Client of the Year" by the Royal Institute Of British Architects (Riba) Journal. But looking around today, that refound nerve seems to have been re-lost. Nothing has been done about the Music Box and the project is now in doubt, David Chipperfield has been replaced as executive architect in Scotland and most dramatic of all, in October, MacCormac's firm, MacCormac Jamieson Prichard (MJP), was unceremoniously removed from the £800m Broadcasting House scheme halfway through.  One person who could explain what's going on is Richard MacCormac, but under the terms of his departure, he's forbidden from talking about it. The BBC's side has been opaque to say the least. It issued two short statements, one citing "creative differences" and stressing that "this is in no way a reflection of their opinion of the professional capabilities of MacCormac Jamieson Prichard whom they continue to view with the highest regard". The other announced that a new architect, Sheppard Robson, has been brought in to "develop and deliver the original design". Officially, the BBC's press spokesperson says: "Broadcasting House is by Sir Richard MacCormac. He has designed it. The fact is that he is no longer the architect of it. It's still Sir Richard MacCormac's building that's going up. It's half up already, you can't change it. It's there."  So has the BBC bottled it? Or has it simply given some of those profligate architects a harsh lesson in budget management? The BBC has hardly been forthcoming about these expensive schemes - understandable, perhaps, considering the regular bashings it has had in recent years - but isn't it fair to ask what, exactly, it has been doing with the vast sums of the public's money earmarked for these buildings?  Broadcasting House was always going to be a difficult project. The scheme called for a complete refit of the existing 1930s building in Portland Place, demolition of the post-1960s chaos that has grown around it and new state-of-the-art offices and studios to house all of the corporation's news and radio operations, including the world's largest newsroom. And all of this without interrupting day-to-day broadcasting, on a confined site bounded by tube lines below, height restrictions above and a Grade I listed church right next door. MacCormac, a past president of Riba and one of Britain's most respected and cultured architects, was by all accounts the man for the job. His elegant, curving extension seamlessly fused with the old building, sensitively blending materials and creating a new public plaza facing Oxford Street and a dramatic, telegenic space for the newsroom behind.  But having won the limited competition in 2000 and the difficult planning permission this year, MacCormac's design has reportedly been under siege ever since. Despite more than 300 design changes requested by the client, MJP stuck with the project through its first phase - the refit of the original Broadcasting House and a new wing alongside it - which has recently been completed. But according to sources, MacCormac preferred to walk rather than sacrifice key features of phase two, such as the grand, sculptural pillars he had designed for the newsroom, the double-height "breakout spaces" intended to encourage inter-departmental mingling and a blue-glass wall running through the building, separating public and office zones.  "The very elements which won MJP the project in the first place, and which were known about and meant to be costed properly, are the elements that have been value-engineered out, which is a euphemism for cost cutting," says one insider. "Richard is devastated. It's a tremendous blow, artistically, professionally, financially, everything."  David Chipperfield, meanwhile, appears to have been having a similar experience north of the border. His firm won the competition for the £72m BBC Scotland headquarters in Glasgow's Pacific Quays around the time MacCormac was getting started. Chipperfield's solution to a similarly challenging brief is a minimal glass box, containing a giant staircase inside that's more like a series of platforms ascending through an atrium. Like MacCormac, in August 2004 Chipperfield was removed as executive architect; the difference is that he is still working on the project. "Our role was taken over by another firm without our agreement," he says. "We have agreed to be retained in a sort of advisory role. We can only say, 'Look, it can be done this way.' It's not going to be the building we designed but I still think it's probably going to be a decent building."  As for the Music Box, Foreign Office is still on good terms with the BBC, according to its co-director, Farshid Moussavi, but the project hasn't moved at all since it was appointed in 2003. "There is no time frame that we know of," she says, "but we have been told the intention is still to do it. We're still optimistic."  To have one high-profile architectural scheme in peril is a misfortune, but to have three at the same time looks like carelessness. And while nobody really wants to give a treasured cultural institution a good kicking, it is fair to ask what is really going on - especially since the BBC itself has hardly been forthcoming. If there is one problem linking these schemes, it is the way the BBC now runs its property division. There used to be an in-house department with its own team of architects dealing with property, but in 2001, in a £2.5bn deal, the BBC transferred much of its responsibility and most of its staff to the private company Land Securities Trillium. Under the new contract, Land Securities took on 65 or so BBC buildings across the country, as well as the duty of financing and developing the corporation's new projects, which it would then rent back to them. Unions likened the deal to "selling the family silver", but from the BBC's point of view it was a shrewd move, if a desperate one. Long gone were the glory days that produced finely crafted buildings like Broadcasting House, or even functional ones such as Television Centre in Shepherd's Bush.  The point when the BBC originally lost its nerve was probably the 80s, when a bold new headquarters was commissioned for the site across the road from Broadcasting House, from the then rising star Norman Foster. It would have been a revolutionary building, thrillingly high-tech but transparent and unifying. However, after a changing of the BBC guard, the new chairman and ex-Tesco director Stuart Young plumped instead to site the new HQ in a crass tin shed in White City, which is widely regarded as one of the ugliest buildings in the land.  By that time the BBC's property estate across the country was in a pretty shabby state, and with the corporation having to fight for public cash just to make programmes, there was little chance of a government-funded overhaul. By contrast, the deal with Land Securities freed up cash for programming and transferred the risk of building the BBC's ambitious projects on to the private sector.  The BBC was a notoriously difficult client even before it adopted this outsourcing strategy, according to architects. Its buildings invariably involve several different departments, whose competing and fluctuating demands can be exasperating. But under the new arrangement, the BBC is no longer, technically, the client at all. Instead, architects such as MacCormac and Chipperfield must answer to Land Securities and its contractors, Bovis Lend Lease. And their primary responsibility is to deliver value for money.  "In each case our aim has been to control the selection of the architects, control the evolution of the design up to a certain point, but then hand over to the builder to deliver it to us, but deliver it on time and on budget," explains John Smith, the BBC's chief operating officer and the man who devised the outsourcing strategy. "Imagine how we would be berated if instead we said to any architect or builder that was working for us, 'Don't care about the budget. Just do what you want and we'll just say yes to everything.' We have an obligation to the licence-fee payer to deliver it on time and on budget."  "On time and on budget" has become the mantra for the BBC and many other public sector builders. Having seen the costs of schemes such as the Scottish Parliament and Wembley Stadium spiral conspicuously out of control, the BBC is understandably exercising extreme caution. Smith points to examples where private-sector partnerships have paid off, such as award-winning regional facilities in Northampton and Coventry, and particularly at the "Media Village" at White City - a new set of buildings around the original "tin shed". Under the management of Land Securities, architects Allies and Morrison delivered the latter on budget and slightly early.  But many have questioned whether the flagship projects could ever have been delivered under similar arrangements. "I know Richard felt very strongly about this way of procuring the building," says one architect close to the Broadcasting House scheme. "But this is the norm now, you have to apply the market and rigid criteria to everything. So even though this was a once-in-a-hundred-years building, for arguably Britain's most important cultural institution, it still has to be procured as if it was just a commercial office block around the corner."  "That's preposterous," counters Smith. "You've only got to go and have a look at it. Just go and look at the amount of effort that's being made. It's not our approach that's at fault, but you have to marry a budget and a timetable with the architectural vision. You can't simply always allow the desire for architectural finesse in every single manifestation right to the end. You have to make a trade-off, and it works well nearly all the time."  In May of this year, the BBC scrapped its 30-year deal with Land Securities, 26 years early. An external audit into the deal had concluded that "the vision established at the outset has not been fully realised," and that "maximum possible value is not being achieved." The press called it "a humiliating collapse"; a BBC spokesman prefers to couch it in terms of more favourable interest rates becoming available on the bond market, like shopping around for a better deal on your new kitchen. Either way, Land Securities banked a £23m profit by selling the White City media village back to the BBC, plus £16m in compensation. And until the BBC re-tenders the deal next year, it has an off-balance-sheet debt of £1.2bn.  The last thing the BBC is really looking for is adverse publicity, but in the case of its architectural strategy the situation seems to have been compounded by heavy pressure on the corporation to demonstrate value for money in everything it does. What alternatives did the BBC have? Would it have earned sympathy for doing nothing about the state of its properties? Or taking money out of programme-making? Or simply giving its architects more leeway?  The architectural community has made a few constructive suggestions. In a letter to the Architects' Journal, John McAslan suggested the BBC consider employing two architects at the outset: a signature visionary like MacCormac or Chipperfield and an "architect of record" to handle the nuts and bolts of the project. The process is commonly deployed in the US and was also used for Britain's Tate Modern, where Swiss stars Herzog & De Meuron did the big ideas, while the "deliverability" was taken care of by Sheppard Robson, the same firm now delivering Broadcasting House.  "I think what the BBC set out to do is a very difficult task," David Chipperfield sums up. "They made grand statements and had grand ambitions and they were sincere about it. I don't think they've changed their minds, I don't think it was a conspiracy, I certainly don't think it was incompetence. But the reality of building and decision-making is very complex. It's not about money, it's about how you use that money. If I was to blame the BBC for anything, I think they underestimated what it takes to co-ordinate that process, certainly in our case, and I suspect to some degree that must also be true in the BBC Portland Place case. It would be more surprising for their plans to achieve fruition than for them to not quite achieve what they set out to achieve".
When the BBC commissioned three landmark new buildings it was praised as a patron of cutting edge architecture. But now the architects of two of the projects have been dropped and the third may not even happen. What went wrong? Steve Rose investigates.