Stretching Limits: Designing outside of the box.

Today is the first day of classes, and as I sit here anticipating the first studio class of the new academic year, I cannot help but reflect on my goals for this new group of architectural design students that I am about to meet.

At the beginning of the fall term, I often show a documentary video by Michael Apted titled Inspirations.  In this documentary, Apted profiles 7 artists from various disciplines who each discuss the creative process. At the end of film, each shares advice for creativity, and one of my favorite quotes comes from David Bowie.

“If you feel safe in the area you are working, then you are not working in the right area.  Always go a little further into the water than you feel capable of.  Go a little bit out of your depth and when you don’t feel your feet quite touching the bottom you’re just in the right place to do something exciting” David Bowie

I was thinking about this quote recently as I completed a design competition entry at the end of the summer.  As I prepared an image for the Chicago Architectural Club’s “Currencies of Architecture” competition, I was reminded of the value of working outside of one’s comfort zone.  This is not the type of design completion I usually am attracted to.  I prefer competitions that have a limited scope, allowing me to design an architectural object where I can get into the details and produce a well-developed, conceptually sound, piece of architecture.  This particular competition is not that at all!  Currencies of Architecture calls on participants to produce a single image addressing the state of architecture today.  What does that even mean?  This project is highly conceptual and completely open ended in terms of the manner in which participants can approach the design – which makes me a little bit more that uncomfortable. 

I was uneasy about how to approach the work, and I am still creatively unsure about my own submission.  If you are interested, you can view the project here.  The point of this post, however, is not about my own work per se, but the value in stretching limits.  For me, this competition was a reminder of the importance (and difficulty) of pushing our own creative boundaries.  There is incredible creative value in stretching your own limits as a designer, but it is also REALLY hard to do.

All of this brings me back to the first day of studio, as I am about to assign a conceptual, open ended project for my students to tackle.  Part of my job, especially in a sophomore studio, is to push students beyond their own preconceptions of what they think Architecture is.  I am supposed to encourage my students to work outside of their own comfort zones.  My job is to encourage my students to design ‘outside of the box’, meaning that I want students to push themselves, explore, and think about their own work as having new and exciting possibilities.  And if / when they struggle with this, I am newly reminded that this is also ok, as it is just as difficult for me at times to push beyond my own comfort zone. 

Most things that are really worth pursuing in your creative career are difficult, and therefore of value.

Good luck to all who are beginning a new academic year…. and I am wearing my David Bowie socks today for luck…

 

Reverse Critique

This post is another installment in my series of observations about teaching techniques that I have experimented with in my design studio.

This week is final review week in the studio. Watching students frantically work to pull their final presentations together has gotten me thinking about something I tried earlier this semester, the reverse critique.

As the idiom goes, turnabout is fair play.

 

Pearson presentation pin-up

This semester I had been working on a competition entry for the Chicago Biennial Lakefront Kiosk design competition.  I decided to take one studio class and turn the tables – I would present my design project to the students and they would critique my creative work.

The concept of the reverse critique is a not a new idea.  I have heard about this technique being implemented in design studio courses at other institutions, but it was not something that I have experimented with myself, until now.  Here are a few observations from this activity.

NERVES AND EMPATHY

I spent some time mentally rehearsing my presentation before the class, and I was actually a bit nervous in anticipation.  This surprised me because, well, I am the professor.  I get up in front of this same group of students each day and talk about things.  What was different this time?  The big difference was that I was presenting my own creative work.  It is like baring a little bit of your soul as a designer, to get up in front of an audience, and reveal your creative process. 

This reminds me of the importance of empathy for the task ahead of my students this week.  If I was even slightly nervous standing up and discussing my own work, how must they feel, as sophomores in architecture school, being asked to get up in front of professional architects who are poised and ready to criticize. 

For the students, this is a necessary and important part of an architectural education, learning to articulate and defend their creative work.  This is a skill that they must have as a future professional, and they will continue to improve in their ability to conceptualize and discuss their work as they progress through architecture school.  That doesn’t necessarily mean that it ever gets easy to present creative work, and as the instructor, it is sometimes too easy for me to forget the nerves and pressure of a final review presentation.  The reverse crit was a good reminder, and gives me much needed perspective as an instructor.

MODELING

The primary reason I tried this activity in the class was to model (or demonstrate) the type of performance that I want my students to engage in.  I wanted them to see how I approached the presentation, how I organized content and articulated ideas, and MOST IMPORTANTLY how I received critical feedback.  I try to find moments in my studio class where I can model professional behavior.   This was a good teaching opportunity to demonstrate how to participate in the ‘design dialog’ of a final presentation.

I addition to the manner in which I presented the work, the work itself becomes an example of sorts.  I took some time at the end of the critique to discuss how I approached the presentation, in particular the graphic decisions I made as a designer that specifically attempt to amplify the concept and tell the story of the design.  We talk a lot about story telling and articulating concepts in the studio, and the reverse critique was an opportunity to demonstrate these ideas firsthand through actual work.

SELF CRITICISM

I received good feedback about my work from the students.  They made some very valid and critical comments about the project.  They were probably too nice to me actually, but I am still the person giving them grades, and it is difficult to completely reverse the existing power dynamic. 

At this point in their education, my students are generally better at giving critical feedback to others than they are at being reflective and self critical about their own work.  This is to be expected, and yet through this reverse critique I hope that they begin to see that the ability to critically analyze someone else’s work is also an essential component of their own design process – a skill they will begin to master as they continue to mature as designers.

PROCESS SKETCHING (The Thinking Hand)

Sketchbook pages from a recent design project.



I require my students to keep (and use) a sketchbook as a part of their design process.  It is not always the most beloved class activity, and I am sure some of the students view this as an archaic requirement.

I want my students to draw, doodle, dream, explore ideas, visualize, conceptualize, test and then REPEAT.  The sketchbook is an ideal medium for this fluid design exploration process – especially in the beginning of a project when the design is much less defined, and open to interrogation.  Some might (and have) question the validity of this approach in our digitally minded age.

Recently, to raise this discussion in my studio courses, I had my students read a portion of Juhani Pallasmaa’s book, The Thinking Hand.  In it, the renowned Finnish architect, academic, and theoretician makes a strong case for drawing and sketching.  Pallasamaa argues that sketching is both a haptic and spatial exercise, connecting act of drawing by hand to the mental and cognitive functions arise while drawing.  “As I sketch the contour of an object…..I actually touch and feel the surface of the subject of my attention.”   This connection between the mind and the hand (hence the title The Thinking Hand) is what interests me.  Can I more effectively teach students architectural visualization skills by forcing them to work with their hands?  I’m not sure, but in my studio we draw, and we build a lot of large physical models, because I believe that this is the most effective way to teach students to ‘see’ their design work.

This is not a critique of the computer per se, and I am certainly no technophobe.  However, when it comes to teaching young students to see and imagine a design not yet built, there seems to me to be a powerful connection between thinking and working with your hands.  As Pallasmaa argues “In fact, every act of sketching and drawing produces three different sets of images: the drawing that appears on the paper, the visual image recorded in my cerebral memory, and a muscular memory of the act of drawing.”

Perhaps in a few years, as tablets and sketching apps continue to evolve, this argument will become moot.  Until then, the connection between thought and drawing is the reason I want my students to sketch.  I want them to visualize their design work in a more informed, intentional, and nuanced manner.  Pallasmaa echoes these same sentiments, “When sketching an imagined space, or an object being designed, the hand is in a direct and delicate collaboration and interplay with mental imagery.  The image arises simultaneously with an internal mental image and the sketch mediated by the hand.” 

Why do I want my students to sketch more?  Because I want them to THINK more (and think more carefully) about their work.

Sketching (and the art of stillness)

I am probably the worst blogger ever.  Several times each year (admittedly sometimes less), I get an urge to use this forum as a means to explore an idea, or develop a thought that has been rattling around in my brain.  Then I return to completely ignoring my blog, until the next time the urge strikes.  None the less, blogging gives me this (occasional) opportunity to play with ideas and jot down thoughts. 

This post certainly falls into this category of ‘ideas to play with’ in the future.

Over this past winter break (yes, as an educator I have that luxury) I read the short TED book, The Art of Stillness, by Pico Iyer.  In it, Iyer argues for stillness in our distracted, fast paced world.  As a renowned travel writer, Iyer is surprisingly advocating for going nowhere.  By stepping back and doing nothing, one can become more attentive, and more introspective.  Being alone, being still, taking time to simply be present with our own thoughts, according to Iyer, is a means for happiness in our ever stressful contemporarily existence. 

“In an age of speed, I began to think, nothing could be more invigorating than going slow.  In an age of distraction, nothing could feel more luxurious than paying attention.  And in an age of constant movement, nothing is more urgent than sitting still” Pico Iyer. 

 Iyer has a TED talk on the same topic.

 

So how exactly does this relate to sketching?  I am not exactly sure, but for some reason I found myself thinking about sketching while reading this beautiful short book.  Sketching, for an architect, is about observation.  Learning to sketch is essentially learning to see.  It requires singular concentration and focus.  This is exactly why so many of my students dislike the activity, because it is hard to sketch and simultaneously multitask on a mobile device.  Sketching forces one to sit still, be present, observe, and record.

Over the past few years I have, on occasion, brought my sketchbook with me on visits to downtown Chicago.  Some of these sketches (illustrated throughout this essay) were created during class trips with my students, others were drawn by myself during the rare occasion that I could carve out some time.  On class trips, I have used these sketches to model the types of drawings that I would like to see my students work to achieve.  These sketches are not beautiful works of art, nor are the meant to be.  They do, however, fulfill me in a way I cannot justly describe.  When I am sketching, time simply stands still.  I become completely immersed in the act of drawing.  It is both invigorating and refreshing, a mental break from all the chaos.

 

So I begin to think, for us architects, maybe what we really need is to learn to observe.  Sitting still, in one place, sketching and observing – makes us more aware.  This awareness (of our inner self for Iyer, and of the build environment for me) might just be the antidote to our distracted lives.

 

Perhaps in our hyper-connected, everywhere at once, image saturated existence - what we really need is to sit in one place, and sketch.

CHARRETTE

I have been experimenting with the use of the charrette as a teaching tool for a while now.  I find that the concept of the charrette can be an effective way to engage students, and at certain times shake up the rhythm of the studio.

First of all, for those who may be unfamiliar with the term, a "charrette" generally refers to any time intensive design activity.  Architects under an intense time deadline will sometimes refer to be 'en charrette' or 'charette-ing'. It is sometimes used synonymously with the term 'all-nighter', although that is not the context in which I am using it here.

The term charrette can also be used to refer to a group planning or design activity.  We have done those types of charrettes here at COD on several occasions, as shown in the image above from the 'Rebulding Together Aurora' charrette we hosted in 2013.  In these instances, the charrette is a valuable tool to get students and design professionals working in a creative and collaborative environment.

The origin of the term charrette is a derivative of the French term meaning "little cart".  As legend has it, during the time of the origin of the Ecole des Beaux Arts, intructors would travel from studio to studio throughout Paris, collecting final assignments on a small horsedrawn cart.  Sometimes, in the panic of a deadline, a student would be know to jump on to the cart while the project was being collected to put the finishing touches on their work of art.  Hence the term 'en charrette', or 'in the cart'.

In the context of my design studio, I am using this term to refer to short, intense, sometimes collaborative, design activities.

I like using charrettes for several reasons.

First, charrettes get students moving.  Whenever I feel that there is a lull in the studio, I consider a charrette to amp up the productivity.  This week I planned a charrette for the first class after spring break, knowing that there would be a significant (post spring break Monday morning) sluggishness in the studio.

 

Second, by increasing the pressure with a short deadline, these activities get students working quickly.  Sometimes, I feel that designing without thinking too much can lead a student to work more intuitively, less formulaic, and thus be more likely to make that ever elusive intuitive leap that is so critical in design.  It is so easy for all of us to get stuck in a design, overthinking every move.  By forcing students to work quickly, there is no time to overthink or get stuck in a design problem.  Obviously this type of quick, intuitive methodology is not always appropriate, given that I want students to have a well considered design solution. It is effective strategically implemented at times when students are already prone to getting stuck in their own designs.

 

This week I tried another variation of this method by having students trade projects, and thus develop a project designed by one of their colleagues.  The students hate this of course, but I like the results.  My goal with this is simple - to get students looking at the work with new eyes, with the intention of revealing design alternatives and potentials.  I find that students are often much more open minded to change, and can more effectively identify areas that need to be developed in someone else's work rather than their own project.  It is human nature after all, that the longer we work on a creative project the more we begin to work with blinders on, failing to recognize opportunities in our own work.  As we invest ourselves more in the creative process it becomes harder and harder to question the work and rethink alternatives.  Students see the critique in other's projects easier than they do in their own work.

 

So on Monday, the first class after spring break, I had my students move one desk to the right, and work on a project that is not their own.  I asked them to identify the key concepts in the work, think about how to communicate these ideas both through writing and drawing, help their peers draw concept diagrams and write concept statements, and ultimately suggest opportunities for development.  The students had 90 minutes to create quick hand drawn boards, and then at the end of the studio we pinned up the work and discussed each student's critique.  We still need to work on graphic communication (perhaps the subject for the next post), but the student to student critiques were excellent. 

And maybe (hopefully) - each student will now be able to return to their own project with a fresh set of eyes and an open mind for developing their work creatively.  Perhaps there will even be some intuitive leaps.

ITERATION (2)

As a follow up to last semester’s post regarding variation in the design process, I had the opportunity yesterday to visit the John Ronan exhibit at the Art Institute of Chicago yesterday which is entitled “Iterations”. 

This is a small but fascinating exhibit that focusses on the design process used by Chicago Architect John Ronan for his work on the 2011 Poetry Foundation building. 

Of interest to me is how Ronan uses an iterative design process within his work to test ideas and explore variations.  Exploring this same theme in my previous blog post last year, when I teaching design I am often challenged to get students to truly explore options and test ideas through the process of making.  I still contend that to become a good designer, one must question, test, explore and invent through a process of iteration.

Ronan illustrates this process brilliantly through a series of process drawings and models on display in this exhibit.

First on display is a series of sketch organizational diagrams which explore options regarding the relationship between garden and major programmatic elements.

Perhaps even more interesting is a series of massing models (10 in total) that were created in a single afternoon design ‘charrette’ – a process intended to quickly flush out ideas.  These models are massing studies that quickly and elegantly explore a whole range of options for organizing and massing this relatively small institutional building.

Ronan uses a similar process to explore a range of options regarding the façade screen, which is one of the more prominent design features in the building.

 

Check out this small, but worthwhile exhibit at the Art Institute before May 4th, 2014

ITERATION

What do I want students to learn in my sophomore design studios?

The most important skills that a student should learn in the early years of architectural studio courses is ‘thinking’ and  ‘process’.  Design is after all, a process of inquiry.

The design process itself can be difficult for students to grasp.  It is different than the way students have been educated their entire lives, where they are taught to follow a series of linear steps that will ultimately lead to a ‘correct’ answer.  Design is not that simple, nor is there just one solution.  Design is a thought process, an intellectual activity that is about creative exploration.  The creative process involves innovation, meaning that you don’t always know where a project is going when you begin.  Because of this, getting students to explore iterations in their work is essential.

The challenge in teaching design is that the design process is non-linear and iterative.

One problem I often see in my studio courses is that students get stuck on an initial idea.  Too often, students resist the idea of truly exploring options and possibilities.  This is likely a result of the time and energy it took to develop the initial idea in the first place.   It is hard to convince a student who has just spent an enormous amount of time developing a project that now is the time to re-think and question everything.  The challenge, however, is that to become a good designer one must ask questions, test options, and explore multiple solutions to a given problem.  Good designers are quick on their feet and must be able to shift their thinking as fluidly as they can shift scales.  Design thinking requires the quick exploration of options. More than often, when a designer allows him or herself to follow a new idea, the result becomes richer and more authentically innovative.

So how do you teach this? 

This past week I tried an experiment in my studio classes.  We are about one month into this semester’s primary design project.  The students have already explored several site planning concepts at 1:30 scale, and have already produced their first building design model at 1:8 scale.  They have all seemingly established a conceptual direction, and I thought maybe this would be a good time to try to shake things up a bit.  So I tried creating an in-class two hour charrette.  The students were asked to develop two entirely new alternatives to their project.  One scheme was to use the already established organizational parti and develop a new massing concept.  The second scheme was to be an entirely new alternative using the previously established design concept.  Students began the class with one scheme, and two hours later had three.  The purpose of this activity was to get students working quickly and intuitively, without thinking too much about the outcome.  Could the work itself reveal new opportunities and potentials within their design?  Can trying something new give new insights into a project?

After the schemes had been developed, I had students pin up their work.  Then in small groups they worked together to identify the strengths and potentials of each scheme, using post-it notes to record their observations.  The idea was that by focusing only on the potentials for each scheme, students would begin to think about how to develop their project, hopefully now incorporating new information  learned from this exercise.

 

What remains to be seen at this point is if this will ultimately work, but so far some initial feedback is promising.  One student mentioned that I had totally screwed him up because now he was “rethinking everything”.  If that is the case then I have done my job.

Light Modulating Wall

I thought I would post a few images of the first studio design project from my Arch 2202 Design II studio this spring semester.  This was a three week warm-up project where students worked in teams to create a light modulating wall.

The intent of the Light Modulating Wall project is to design a wall section that gives an adjacent space a sense of place through the modulation of natural daylight.  Students are challenged to work with light as a ‘medium’ to design a south facing wall section that captures, manipulates and modulates light and its dynamic qualities. The design intent is to create a place that is memorable and has a unique character.  Students work in teams design solutions which create a dialog between architecture and occupant by modulating a poetic interaction with natural daylight.  This project introduces students to the concept of designing in section, as well as addresses detailing and structural topics.  The students’ designs are an exploration of the creation of space using natural daylight to create a unique and memorable experience.

Students in Action

As the summer winds to a close, this will be the last post about the Arch2840: Architecture of Florence and Rome class. I am obviously very lucky to be able to teach this kind of class, and I am truly grateful for the opportunity to teach about and expose students to some of the most important buildings in history.

For me, the most rewarding part of this experience is the opportunity to observe students experiencing architecture firsthand. When I was an architecture student, I had the opportunity myself to study abroad and experience some of these very same buildings. I know how important that primary experience was for me. It changed my views on the world, and has impacted my life ever since. My own travel experiences have forever changed the way I view and understand architecture.

To be able now, as an architect and professor, to pass this experience on to my students is a very positive and rewarding activity. I can only hope that in some small way, I have been able to impact and shape the worldview of my students through this course. I can’t help but be overjoyed at the sight of students in awe at the many amazing places that we visited. It reminds me of how I felt, and still feel, when experiencing great architecture firsthand.

Our students on this trip ranged in ages spanning several generations, from the traditional aged student through more savvy veteran travelers. For some students this was their first time leaving the country. For others it was an opportunity to revisit and reconnect to places that had become memories. I think that all involved in this trip, regardless of their prior travel experience, left with a new and lasting understanding of architecture.

The images here are simply a record of students in action. They are not always great photography, and I have obviously had some issues in editing this post. Some shots are mine, and others are not. What they are collectively, however, is a testament to experiencing place, culture, and architecture through travel.

Ralph, admiring the Medici ceiling

Jane, teaching at the Palazzo Medici

the COD group at Santa Croce

The best part of Italy... the food of course!

Who shrunk Dora?

Taking pictures of people taking pictures...

Lunch, in front of a Renaissance masterpiece

Tyler, hanging out

Jane, stopping to admire the view on the way up the Duomo

Which way to Florence?

The COD group at the Spanish Steps

Andy takes in the view from the Duomo

The COD group at the Colosseum

Ralph at the Colosseum

Andy at the Colosseum

Matt, lurking with his camera

Matt and Cam

Sketching at the Pantheon

Anything it takes to get the shot

Yes, Marge made it up those steps!

Jane, teaching at the Campidoglio

Maybe we did look like toursits?

We should have been kissing the ground after that landing

My classroom in Rome

also lurking with my camera

What do you do while waiting for lunch? We sketch.

Singing in the rain (I might regret this one)

Brilliant! Why didn't I think of this?