Thoughts on teaching, Part 2. My passion for the practice of architecture led me—unexpectedly—to my love of teaching architecture. In particular, teaching students in early stages of learning; a moment in their academic tenure where it is key to acquire fundamental principles.

“What will be more important in the future, the right skill set or mindset?

I believe that practicing basics at the onset of the first design project is important, before students want to focus solely on building a vision. Over several decades of teaching, I always have enjoyed mentoring second year students and could offer endless thoughts regarding this particular affinity. But from all of my intellectual peregrinations, three main interests are key to my enthusiasm for this particular time.

1. A core fundamental beyond technique

I have always enjoyed engaging with students who have a basic understanding of design issues; preferably with an interest in architectural thinking. Yet, I am as happy to mentor students with a background in a related design field. Having taught a first-year design studio over two decades ago, I know how much dexterity it takes to jumpstart a student’s career and enable them to think architecturally.

I will admit that I am not skilled at introducing design basics to freshmen, thus, my preference to teach architecture fundamentals, which is the locus of typical second year design studios in the United States. This is because I believe that design and architecture fundamentals have distinctive concerns, thus should be approached with different sensitivities. For this blog, fundamentals are not about the acquisition of techniques but more about how fundamentals are bound up with the lives of people.

John Hejduk said that architecture is an art of compromise, where art and function are united through a BIG and BOLD idea (a thesis). For sophomores, projects are the expression of grappling through the initial complexity of design issues, and the discovery of the marvels of translating ideas into space. A journey that we as faculty love to witness, and that makes teaching so rewarding.

At times, teaching can also be disappointing, especially when students believe that architecture is principally about making a visual impact based on an inner artistic calling—a feeling rooted in taste (“I like it”, which is nothing more than a momentary appreciation) and rarely synonymous with what I call instinct (a move based on deeper knowledge). I have found that this particular artistic design belief emerges during a first-year craft-based pedagogy, a moment where students are often taught that visual form making is what constitutes good design. Therefore, when they arrive in second year, it is a struggle to get students to understand that those bold aesthetic gestures cannot stand isolated from other tectonic constraints that belong to the discipline of architecture; a process.

Let’s face it, every student has their own autobiography, and learning takes time as ideas percolate and are assimilated, often not in a chronological or seamless manner. Reiteration, as a learning process is key, and as instructors we need to be mindful that learning is about accepting the pace of various students. At the same time, it is imperative that this trust one has toward the students is partnered with their demonstration of passion and commitment if they wish to be successful during their studies.

I have encountered students who cannot breathe enough architecture, at times to a fault, while others are timid. Either way, students need to “make a lot of mistakes before one [they] can take a calculated risk.” Both the idea of making a mistake and taking a risk are essential when giving birth to an idea. 

2. Juggling multiple topics

For didactic reasons, I have come to favor immersing second-year students in their studies through multiple topics—ranging from simple to complex architectural issues—even though I am fully aware that they may not totally grasp each topic at first, or see the ramifications as part of a larger design process. It is okay to be overwhelmed! I believe that this tactic has, over the years, benefited my students, as eventually they will re-encounter related topics in a variety of forms. As frustrating as it may be for them as beginners, learning is cyclical, and why not share more topics than they can handle, knowing many ideas will not be fully assimilated in a first round. 

Therefore, I choose to engage the students with program briefs containing greater degrees of complexity. This may seem counterproductive to a more homeopathic and incremental approach; one where a single topic is given, practiced, and understood, before moving to the next one. Because second year students are just learning about architecture, core conceptual thinking must be established by developing basic skills; thus, some instructors offer multiple short projects so that students can hone one design concept and build on that baseline. 

While this latter approach has had success in my own design studios, recently I have favored more intimately scaled projects—generally domestic—and typically longer in duration. This allows students to expand their conceptual thinking over multiple disciplines, all the while experiencing various scales, including those of construction and, to my delight, a first foray into how to detail the assemblage of built-in cabinetwork (discussed in a previous blog Architecture Education: what does the choice of furniture have to do with architecture?).

During recent spring semesters, I have proposed an eight-week/sixteen-week urban loft renovation that includes interior design issues, space planning, furniture layout, kitchen design, selection of art, and detailing of cabinetwork and casework. While the range of scales and design thinking appear complex and might seem at first overwhelming—especially because the project occurs within a confined and well defined “box”—students gain rapid confidence and an understanding that architecture is not simply restricted to grand conceptual gestures, but has a soul, a calling that is brought to life through more intimate attention to the physical and mental dispositions of its users. 

For architecture students, this is critical for their future appreciation of a more inclusive built environment created for all of the human senses. With a project of domestic scale, these preoccupations are immediately tangible and build on the personal experiences of each student—who among them has not experienced the question of living, be it either in a house or an apartment. Finally, in preparation for students entering third year with confidence, I am pleased that this particular project offers an introduction to architecture as part of a culture of construction, with key implications that go far beyond beauty and poetic metaphors. 

This didactic approach, which is paired with another program brief during the semester, is a way to immerse students in the physical and perceptual dimensions of architecture (understood in its largest sense of the word). Broadening the definition of architecture by being more inclusive of other art forms and spatial concerns tailored to users, and not for the beauty of a plan, reminds students that other disciplines­—such as interior design, landscape architecture, and industrial design, which were part of their first-year experience—should contribute to bring architecture to its full potential. A key lesson that I like to share with students, is that architecture does not need to resolve all issues. Other art forms can, and must, contribute to solutions: construction management and urban design in addition to the above mentioned disciplines.

3. Seeking answers within themselves

While I favor learning that is accompanied by faculty sketching suggestions (yes, I mean sketching and not simply verbal encouragement, i.e., talking with the student versus talking to the student) I emphasize—in fact, I insist—that at the end of the day, each student has the responsibility to seek answers within themselves. When students are in doubt or request approval—if I like or do not like their project—I often refer to one of my favorite books Letters to a Young Poet, by German writer Rainer Maria Rilke. The excerpt below remains, for me, relevant at specific moments as a model of teaching, on the nature of being.

“You ask whether your verses are any good. You ask me. You have asked others before this. You send them to magazines. You compare them with other poems, and you are upset when certain editors reject your work. Now (since you have said you want my advice) I beg you to stop doing that sort of thing. You are looking outside, and that is what you should most avoid right now. No one can advise or help you – no one. 

There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write. This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night; must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. 

And if this answer rings out I assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple “I must,” than build your life in accordance with this necessity; your whole life, even into its humblest and most indifferent hour, must become a sign and witness to this impulse.”

During the second-year of a student’s tenure, there should be a sharp learning curve toward understanding the need for architecture rather than simply finding a fleeting definition of architecture. This dialectic sets the role of architecture schools center stage, by both training students how to make architecture, and by preparing them to become architects. Both are essential, because for any artefact to carry meaning, it must contribute and serve society in meaningful ways. Being an architect and the crafting of architecture are intimately related. 

Conclusion

This suggests a pedagogy where one learns that projects first and foremost have a soul that touches people’s imagination. To become a good designer is to give oneself space and time, a journey formed by layers of meaning. Faculty are an essential part of this journey, helping students trust their inner voice, and slowly master their instincts and spontaneity to find a path to the art of architecture. Ultimately, I hope that we continue to inspire our students to have their own voice, while simultaneously giving them the tools and benefit of our experiences in the making of architecture.

Suggested Links

Some thoughts on architecture
Thoughts on Teaching. Part 1
Architectural Education: First steps in a student’s design process
The need for disciplinary integration. Part 1
The need for disciplinary integration. Part 2
Final architecture presentation drawings