It seems to go without saying that architecture school requires long hours and little sleep. This can be more than an inconvenience at times, however, as another blogger on this site detailed not too long ago.
His seizure, and the very real health risks aside, I've often wondered whether this is really the most conducive model for the study of this discipline. I'm not questioning the courses that comprise our curricula here, nor the content of those classes, but rather the actual structure of study.
A classmate of mine, Melissa, has with the help of a few other students and teachers begun a monthly discussion group that grapples with a range of issues central to our studies and to the discipline more generally - a salon of sorts, entitled Convivium. Last month we discussed pedagogy, and in the course of the evening this issue surfaced.
The topic is not entirely straightforward. On the one hand, the ability to manage time effectively is important to any professional, including an architect, and would hopefully be a lesson well learned in our education. But that itself is not the reason why we seek our degrees, often assuming considerable financial strain in the process. Along those lines, it was mentioned during the discussion by a prominent administration member that we shouldn't, under any circumstances, pull all-nighters. That isn't always realistic.
The reason is largely due to the schedule of the curriculum. Taking studio along with four other classes, for a credit load of 18 or 19 each semester, essentially guarantees a pile-up of work at various critical moments during the term, and with it those all-nighters. But, like I said, I believe that there are detriments beyond the obvious health risks.
Are we really better served taking studio and all of our other classes concurrently? The ability to apply material from non-design classes is a worthwhile goal, yet how well is that actually done? More likely, it seems that we learn how to produce quickly and determine what basic threshold is sufficient. This also is a skill that may make us effective at a certain level in our careers, but is not necessarily conducive to actually learning or applying our coursework, and productivity can be taught in other manners. In a discipline that operates on critical thought and analysis, sufficiency seems like a low standard.
Our curriculum is organized much like other academic disciplines, yet the demands on our time and the diversity of our studies, as well as the heavy presence of studio, differentiate our programs from many of the others on campus. Maybe we need to reexamine that structure.
A colleague of mine with a B. Arch found that his experience one year of separating out studio and theory from the other classes was beneficial all around: he was able to concentrate more adequately on the non-design classes, and as a result, was able to integrate that material into his studio work. This separation of the scholastic and design components of our curriculum is one possible alternative.
I wonder if this could be done within the timeframe of a semester. For instance, the first part of the semester could be dedicated to classes other than studio, and perhaps theory, with these classes held on a more frequent basis. (Many could benefit anyways from having certain classes, like Structures perhaps, more than twice a week.) With the second portion of the semester dedicated to production, there would still be the necessity to work efficiently and decisively, though not to the detriment of other studies.
Architecture programs in the United States are generally highly respected, and deservedly so. They prepare us for professional practice, yet also endeavor to teach us ways to engage the discipline critically. One could make the argument, though, that our education, by acclimating us to excessively long hours prepares us to be obsequious designers who plug easily into hierarchical firm structures; further, that without a genuinely adequate balance of our diverse subject matter, we are less inclined to approach our later work critically.
I think we owe it to ourselves to discuss the merits not just what we're learning, but also how we're learning it; if we aspire to critique and intervene within our communities and society, maybe we can start by critiquing not just the content, but also the structure, of our programs. I don't mean this to be a clarion call, nor a condemnation, in any way. Rather, I believe that architecture - architecture schools included - would benefit from a productive self-reflexivity.
(Quite a bit of literature has been dedicated to the content of architecture curricula, as well as to the structure of the design studio itself and its origins. Less exhaustive, however, is discussion on the merits of the curricular structure at large and its efficacy, let alone its stated goals. The publication of last year's Oxford Conference on education in architecture is itself a vast collection of thoughts on and analysis of the education of architects, yet only gives tangential reference to such issues. In an introduction to the conference, Sir Derbyshire criticizes the transformation of the pedagogy within the university system in post-war England, considering it lacking a truly multi-disciplinary approach.)
Over the course of the year I've become more efficient, and less often do I find myself watching the sun rise in studio. And I have yet to suffer a seizure from prolonged sleeplessness, fortunately. It should be said, too, that I've had various jobs prior to starting grad school that are equally as intensive. As such, this critique is not out of a desire for an easy and tranquil student life.
My own interest in architecture is broad, and it is my hope that in the ensuing years I can continue to satisfy a polyvalent approach as I progress through school, and later, in my career.
His seizure, and the very real health risks aside, I've often wondered whether this is really the most conducive model for the study of this discipline. I'm not questioning the courses that comprise our curricula here, nor the content of those classes, but rather the actual structure of study.
A classmate of mine, Melissa, has with the help of a few other students and teachers begun a monthly discussion group that grapples with a range of issues central to our studies and to the discipline more generally - a salon of sorts, entitled Convivium. Last month we discussed pedagogy, and in the course of the evening this issue surfaced.
The topic is not entirely straightforward. On the one hand, the ability to manage time effectively is important to any professional, including an architect, and would hopefully be a lesson well learned in our education. But that itself is not the reason why we seek our degrees, often assuming considerable financial strain in the process. Along those lines, it was mentioned during the discussion by a prominent administration member that we shouldn't, under any circumstances, pull all-nighters. That isn't always realistic.
The reason is largely due to the schedule of the curriculum. Taking studio along with four other classes, for a credit load of 18 or 19 each semester, essentially guarantees a pile-up of work at various critical moments during the term, and with it those all-nighters. But, like I said, I believe that there are detriments beyond the obvious health risks.
Are we really better served taking studio and all of our other classes concurrently? The ability to apply material from non-design classes is a worthwhile goal, yet how well is that actually done? More likely, it seems that we learn how to produce quickly and determine what basic threshold is sufficient. This also is a skill that may make us effective at a certain level in our careers, but is not necessarily conducive to actually learning or applying our coursework, and productivity can be taught in other manners. In a discipline that operates on critical thought and analysis, sufficiency seems like a low standard.
Our curriculum is organized much like other academic disciplines, yet the demands on our time and the diversity of our studies, as well as the heavy presence of studio, differentiate our programs from many of the others on campus. Maybe we need to reexamine that structure.
A colleague of mine with a B. Arch found that his experience one year of separating out studio and theory from the other classes was beneficial all around: he was able to concentrate more adequately on the non-design classes, and as a result, was able to integrate that material into his studio work. This separation of the scholastic and design components of our curriculum is one possible alternative.
I wonder if this could be done within the timeframe of a semester. For instance, the first part of the semester could be dedicated to classes other than studio, and perhaps theory, with these classes held on a more frequent basis. (Many could benefit anyways from having certain classes, like Structures perhaps, more than twice a week.) With the second portion of the semester dedicated to production, there would still be the necessity to work efficiently and decisively, though not to the detriment of other studies.
Architecture programs in the United States are generally highly respected, and deservedly so. They prepare us for professional practice, yet also endeavor to teach us ways to engage the discipline critically. One could make the argument, though, that our education, by acclimating us to excessively long hours prepares us to be obsequious designers who plug easily into hierarchical firm structures; further, that without a genuinely adequate balance of our diverse subject matter, we are less inclined to approach our later work critically.
I think we owe it to ourselves to discuss the merits not just what we're learning, but also how we're learning it; if we aspire to critique and intervene within our communities and society, maybe we can start by critiquing not just the content, but also the structure, of our programs. I don't mean this to be a clarion call, nor a condemnation, in any way. Rather, I believe that architecture - architecture schools included - would benefit from a productive self-reflexivity.
(Quite a bit of literature has been dedicated to the content of architecture curricula, as well as to the structure of the design studio itself and its origins. Less exhaustive, however, is discussion on the merits of the curricular structure at large and its efficacy, let alone its stated goals. The publication of last year's Oxford Conference on education in architecture is itself a vast collection of thoughts on and analysis of the education of architects, yet only gives tangential reference to such issues. In an introduction to the conference, Sir Derbyshire criticizes the transformation of the pedagogy within the university system in post-war England, considering it lacking a truly multi-disciplinary approach.)
Over the course of the year I've become more efficient, and less often do I find myself watching the sun rise in studio. And I have yet to suffer a seizure from prolonged sleeplessness, fortunately. It should be said, too, that I've had various jobs prior to starting grad school that are equally as intensive. As such, this critique is not out of a desire for an easy and tranquil student life.
My own interest in architecture is broad, and it is my hope that in the ensuing years I can continue to satisfy a polyvalent approach as I progress through school, and later, in my career.
