Architecture schools should teach a content-rich curriculum that is structured around studio projects and lectures. Students pay attention to lectures when they need that information to advance their design. Projects should have a real-world program and site. Work should be evaluated by a shared criteria that explains environmental and social realities.
Architecture schools should teach a content-rich curriculum. Most schools acknowledge basic rules of thumb, but anything more nuanced gets lumped in with "preferences", and it isn't taught. Students know that some buildings are better than others, and they want to know what that is.
Program and site conditions vary per project, but that's why we need to know content, so we'll know what works in every situation. We can't just copy what we like and hope it applies to our situation.
Content doesn't destroy creativity by "boxing us in". Students need to know at least what their objective is, or they have no purpose. Without a problem to solve, what is the point of creativity? Only after mastering content, can we use it creatively. It's impossible for students to reinvent the profession, and even geniuses are better off with guidance.
When students lack content, they lack inspiration, and they're stuck searching for answers to questions that they don't know. If feels like being dropped in the middle of an ocean and being told go ahead. It's more productive to show students how to design, and then let them design. Otherwise, only some students will be able to do it, either because their parents are architects, or because they found supplemental material. We should give all students that advantage. Everyone deserves access to knowledge. Only after mastering knowledge, can we use it creatively. It's more efficient than staring at a blank sheet of paper and punching ourselves for not being a genius. The stereotype is that if we're confused about the assignment, it's because we aren’t cut out to be architects. It causes students to drop out of the program. Students need the right kind of encouragement to be independent. When schools don’t provide guidance, we're asking students to do something they don't have a basis for, so they end up not trusting themselves. We respond by criticizing them or coddling them, but neither are helpful.
Projects with a long time-scale, such as becoming an expert, require visible milestones along the way to keep students on track. Big questions inspire lifelong goals, but intermediary projects are necessary to get there. Project-based learning takes place at the intermediary scale of learning. The deadline isn't so far away that students lose sight of it, and it’s not so close that they can't develop it. An example of a short-term project would be math exercises.
Project-based learning has four stages. The stages are either on the guidance axis, which involves teacher instruction, or they're on the independent axis, which involves student study.
I. Big Questions: Teachers inspire students with big questions about how the world works. How do we heat our houses? Where do building materials come from? What does a good house look like?
II. Student Imagination: Students get inspired by big questions, so they want to learn more. They consider potential answers to the question based on what they already know.
III. Relevant Material: The teacher provides students with what they need to know. Students pay attention because they need the information to advance their thesis. The material should not be overly-predigested or else it feels monotonous.
IV. Repetition and Practice: Once the students learn the information, they test it for themselves in order to understand it. Only then does it “click”, and they can use it creatively.
Houses, schools, and offices are good projects to assign because we are familiar with their functions. We all have experience working, studying, sleeping, and eating. Complicated building programs are difficult to do anything with except copy exactly because we don't know their specific relationships. For example, a water treatment plant depends on specific technology, and it's more relevant to scientists. A movie theater might be something for a businessman to decide, or a particularly interested architect.
Architecture, like everything, has subjective and objective aspects. We can measure architecture objectively (in a quantitative way), and we can measure architecture subjectively (in a qualitative way). Both types of measurement exist.
Technical schools are not "scientific" by ignoring subjectivity, and art schools are not "artistic" by ignoring objectivity. Over-rationalization isn't scientific, and obfuscation isn't artistic.
Subjective experience isn't "up to us", even though beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Intelligence is in the brain of the beholder, and ethics is in the heart of the beholder. Life has a subjective side that experiences reality. The point of learning is to bring our subjective experience up to higher objective standards. Learning wouldn't exist without something to learn. That "something" is called quality. Quality meets higher standards because it explains reality, which improves our experience of it.
We can explain quality in scientific terms. Vague words like "pizazz" delegitimize our subjective experience. Students don't bother learning unless the objective is clear.
The scientific study of quality improves taste. We can develop our taste in the same way that we can develop our muscles. When we train ourselves ethically, aesthetically, intellectually, and physically, we become better at measuring quality. We experience the world more fully. It's like having more "taste" buds.
We should be open to new opinions, but we shouldn't give up on a consensus. It's wrong to accept disagreements with others, just as it's wrong to accept disagreements with reality. We can't pretend we're never wrong because reality doesn't exist, just like we can't pretend we're never wrong because it's not worth discussing it with others. When a professor gives up on their point, it's usually because they don't understand the topic well enough to explain it correctly.
Measuring quality depends on things like health and happiness, which can’t be held in our hand or observed under a microscope. Quality is not physical, so people without a background in science dismiss it, even though it's proven by statistical self-referencing and physiological evidence.
Developers want to downplay quality because standards prevent them from doing whatever they want. When residents oppose a low-quality housing project, developers can say "that's your opinion, and there's no way to prove it, so you must give me a permit."
Architects want to downplay quality because standards mean that they can fail. Buildings respond to social and environmental realities, even though that makes design more difficult. We can't tell the planet to stop having floods, and we can't tell people to stop being human. Once we discover what works, we can use that to our advantage.
Places are justified in setting standards. Buildings are experienced together, and it doesn't make sense to pour our energy into a single building if the surrounding buildings are bad. Good buildings form a coherent identity.
The confusion during crits comes from not defining what is good. The criteria gets disputed more than projects. “Good crits” are just as bad as "bad crits" if nobody learns anything. Confusing language is criticized as “archispeak”, but there are concepts that go beyond everyday language. Terms need to be well-defined, with diagrams and interactive explanations.
Excessive criticism in architecture school is unproductive because students already know their work is bad. That is why they're in school. We should find the little bit that is good, and encourage it. Students have at least enough inspiration to put pencil to paper. As we learn more, it becomes easier to find value in other people’s work. We see where they are coming from, and we can be more effective in our suggestions. Architects will tell clients to think outside the box, and come up with whatever they want, because they are confident in their ability to find what's good in it, and to develop that essence into something beautiful.