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HOW TO ASSIST ARCHITECTURE STUDENTS TO INTEGRATE
SPECIALIST KNOWLEDGE INTO THEIR DESIGN WORK AND PROVIDE
EVIDENCE OF THIS WITHIN THEIR PORTFOLIO
Dr. Samer Ghaleb Bagaeen
Department of Architecture
University of Strathclyde
131 Rottenrow
Glasgow G4 0NG
E samer.bagaeen@strath.ac.uk
T 0141 548 3985
F 0141 552 3997
Abstract
This paper contextualises understanding of the way in which the discipline of
architecture is being taught in British universities in response to ARB, RIBA and
QAA criteria and introduces a new way of thinking about hierarchies in the teaching
of architecture. It discusses criteria of the regulating bodies that emphasise
integration, and shows experience of the Year 1 Pilot in Student Personal
Development Planning (SPDP) recently undertaken in the Department of Architecture
at the University of Strathclyde in Scotland as a successful example of integration in
the study of architecture. The paper borrows a metaphor from Christopher
Alexander’s A City is not a tree “but a semi-lattice” to illustrate hierarchies in the
teaching of architecture that require architecture students to integrate specialist
knowledge into their design work and provide evidence of this within their portfolio.
1. The Study of Architecture at University
The recent growth of research into the pedagogy of higher education has led to a
growing amount of generic educational material (see for example Brown et al. (2003);
Biggs (2003); Trigwell (2001) Samuelowicz and Bain (2001)) along an increase in the
number of publications on subject specific educational research and literature
(Primarily in CEBE - Centre for Education in the Built Environment - publications
that explore the way architecture is taught.).
Cliff and Woodward (2004) explore how academics’ knowledge is structured by
professional, historical or philosophical contexts. The analysis suggests that there are
some areas of commonality, such as the agreement that their knowledge has an
eclectic base and that its structure is influenced by personal, historical, professional
and technological imperatives in the discipline; that it is structured and developed by
academic and professional forces and demands; and that its contestation is a fluid and
dynamic process of consumer demand, socio-cultural forces and personal and
professional hegemonies.
In the field of architecture, the architects’ professional bodies, the Royal Institute of
British Architects (RIBA), and the Architects Registration Board (ARB), directly
affect what is being taught at schools of architecture. These two bodies however do
not always see eye to eye and have had a troubled relationship in recent times.
Lipsett (2004) looks at the turbulent relationship between the RIBA and the ARB
regarding the accreditation of courses of architecture. The RIBA wants the
Government to change the law to stop the ARB accrediting architecture courses. The
RIBA wants an amendment to the 1997 Architects Act to restrict the ARB to the role
the Institute says it was always intended to fulfil - ensuring the professional standards
of qualified architects and not the training of undergraduate architects.
For the time being, both the RIBA and the ARB accredit university architecture
courses whereby under the present structure, universities must submit documentary
evidence to the ARB every four years to prove the quality of their courses. They must
also have their standards checked by a visit from a RIBA board every four years.
2. The Nature of Architectural Education
Architecture courses today have retained one problem-based learning feature from the
origins of architectural education in apprenticeship to a practitioner. This is the design
studio in which the student is provided with a brief for a building, is periodically
tutored over the drawing board in a studio, and finally represents a solution in front of
the class to a ‘jury’ of tutors in a design ‘crit’. Often, the quality of the final
product and subsequently the student's performance assessment is judged solely
on the expert opinions of the jury based on criteria predetermined by the studio
instructor. More typically, the studio instructor takes the opinions of the jury
into account along with his or her impressions of the student’s body of work
over the semester in making a determination of the final assigned grade.
The studio is usually a large room, sometimes equipped with computer workstations,
but mostly consisting of drawing tables and chairs to enable students to work
independently on projects. The design of the room contrasts the traditional teaching
classroom and, while lectures occur within the studio, their nature is more in the form
of presentations and discussions. This studio learning is traditionally accompanied by
formal lectures, tutorials and laboratory classes covering the varied subjects of the
curriculum: history and theory, structures, building construction and building services,
professional practice and management and law.
The classic problem of architectural courses is how these parts of the process can be
reconciled and integrated. It is a perennial complaint of tutors that students who have
successfully passed exams after a course of lectures on, say, structural frame design,
then go into the studio and design a frame building as if they had no idea of the
principles involved. Equally, students complain that the lecture courses seem to have
been devised in isolation from the studio projects, so that information is presented in
an incoherent and unrelated way. From time to time, when the situation threatens to
get out of hand, the school acts to oblige lecture staff to talk to studio staff, and
coordinate at least the major features of their programmes.
A proposed comprehensive problem based learning (PBL) programme offers a way to
cut across this dilemma. Maitland (1997: 212) describes how the approach was used
in Newcastle in 1984 to convert, over 3 years, all five academic years of the course to
a PBL as follows: Integration of discipline areas, and in particular of technical and
design areas; integration of the successive stages of the students’ design processes,
from initial data collection and analysis, through conceptual design to detailed
technical resolution; and integration of all staff inputs.
3. A New Way of Thinking
Metaphors enable to understand an experience in terms of another experience. They
can be described as cognitive strategies that can aid to comprehend the juxtaposition
of concepts that normally are not associated. This paper introduces a new way of
thinking about hierarchies in the teaching of architecture using such a metaphor. A
main reason for the selection of a metaphor is the effect that it has in creativity, and in
leading to new ideas. According to Coyne and Snodgrass (1995) reasoning by
metaphor can provide the means by which problems can be defined, restructured, and
resolved.
The thesis I propose here borrows from Christopher Alexander’s A city is not a tree
(1965) where he argues that a city is “not a tree but a semi-lattice” (see Figure 1). This
tree is, according to Alexander, an abstract structure, a hierarchy, and contrasted this
with a semi-lattice where the parts interlocked to reinforce the overall structure. Both
the tree and the semi-lattice are ways of thinking about how a large collection of many
small systems goes to make up a large and complex system. They are, Alexander
argues, names for structures of sets. A set is, he adds, “a collection of elements which
for some reason we think of as belonging together”.
Figure 1: Contrasting the tree and the semi-lattice, Alexander argues that the semi-lattice promotes integration
Source: RUDI.net
The images in Figure 1, redrawn by Nikos Salingaros 1, show the relationships drawn
in two ways. In the figures, each set chosen to be a unit has a line drawn around it. In
the image on the left, the structure excludes the possibility of overlapping sets, and
therefore is a tree. In the image on the right, the chosen sets are arranged in order of
magnitude with a vertical path leading from one to the other. Alexander makes the
case that a collection of sets forms a tree if and only if, for any two sets that belong to
the collection either one is wholly contained in the other, or else they are wholly
disjoint.
In architectural education, to achieve the kind of integration shown in the semi-lattice,
which I will show below is possible, what is needed is patience, a strong manager and
educators in schools of architecture to work together to make this happen.
Alexander also writes about this when, in A pattern language (1978), he argues that
patterns can never be designed or built in one fell swoop but need patient piecemeal
1
Accessed on 02.02.2006 at http://www.rudi.net/bookshelf/classics/city/alexander/alexander1.shtml
growth designed in such a way that every individual act is always helping to create or
generate these larger global patterns. For this to happen, a major change will need to
happen in schools of architecture. So, where do we begin?
What may well work to achieve this philosophy of working together is good staff
discipline and management from below; a bottom-up hierarchy has the hierarchical
structure needed for effectiveness and is easy to construct. However, in the complex
situation that is university departments, there will always be difficulties because of the
cults of personalities and power relationships at play. After all, the ‘tree’ is accessible
mentally and easy to deal with while the ‘semi-lattice’ is harder to deal with. Within a
tree structure, no piece of any unit is ever connected to other units and some members
of staff may prefer this kind of working relationship with each other: Working alone
productively. However, it is the nature of architectural education where the regulating
bodies demand that the different components in the curriculum are integrated
together, where working together as a ‘semi-lattice’ is something architecture teaching
staff has no choice about.
To achieve the aspects of overlap, ambiguity, and multiplicity of the semi-lattice that
are thicker, tougher, more subtle and more complex than those of the tree, a method of
working needs to be in place. The task of achieving the complexity of the semi-lattice
in a single mental act is not a simple one.
4. The Study of Architecture: Small Systems Forming a Large Complex System
Much of the structure of architectural education is based around the studio. The
classic analysis of the qualities of the studio comes from Schon (1984). His definition
of the studio is “a virtual world that represents the real world of practice, but is
relatively free of its pressures, distractions and risks”. In this studio, he notes, students
work under the guidance of the studio master who functions more as a coach rather
than a teacher who “demonstrates, advises, questions and criticises”. In doing so, the
studio instructor acts as master to apprentices modelling appropriate behaviour,
values, design strategies, and thought processes (Schon, 1983).
In the study of architecture, the studio is the centre of the architecture student’s
educational life (see Figure 2). The architecture studio is organised around
manageable projects of design, set for individual work or groups of students. Study
and assessment methods such as the one-to-one tutorial and the review are integral
parts of the studio experience. The format of this studio experience allows student
collaboration on the analysis stage of the project that often precedes the individual
design phase. It is very rare indeed that teamwork extends into the creative design
stage. On the other hand, urban design, a field in which I myself practice, and design
charrettes in which I have taken part, are collaborative fields. Kelbaugh (2004) notes
how the urban design studio and the design charrettes ask students to work together in
horizontal ways, as equals, whereas charrettes also require vertical collaboration
between the student and the team leader(s).
In the studio, a balance of individual and collaborative effort is ideal. Kelbaugh
(2004) argues that teamwork should not be the dominant or even the typical mode of
studio pedagogy just in case some students take shelter from learning the selfdiscipline required in design which could be either masked or amplified on the coattails of more talented and harder working team-mates.
Figure 2: The studio is the centre of the student’s educational life (Bagaeen, 2006)
All is not well with the studio, it seems. Lewis (2005) highlights the negative impact
that the rising number of students in schools of architecture is having on the studio
culture. She points out that although some architects believe that the reworking of the
studio could mark the end of an overbearing studio culture, others argue that it will
damage architectural education.
5. Regulating the Study of Architecture
The UK Architects Act 1997 gave the ARB the responsibility for prescribing the
qualifications and practical training experience required for entry onto the UK
Register of Architects. This prescription of qualifications has been key to ARB’s dual
mandate, to protect the consumer and to safeguard the reputation of architects.
In carrying out its duty to prescribe qualifications, ARB publishes criteria (ARB,
2002), which set out the minimum levels of awareness, knowledge, understanding and
ability that students of architecture must acquire at key stages in the process of
qualifying as an architect (see Figure 3). These criteria form the basis upon which
ARB makes decisions as to whether or not qualifications can be prescribed.
The criteria describe the requirements for the prescription of Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3
qualifications in architecture by the Board. This criteria also incorporates the relevant
requirements of the UK Quality Assurance Agency (QAA) and the European Union
Council Directive 85/384/EEC (the Architects’ Directive) under five thematic
headings: Design, technology and environment, cultural context, management practice
and law, and communication.
The ARB prescribes what a university, institution or college must do in order to
maintain the prescription of a qualification or examination recognised by the Board.
The RIBA’s role in architectural education is enshrined in the Institute’s Charter
granted in 1837, namely ‘…the general advancement of civil architecture and for
promoting and facilitating the acquirement of the knowledge of the various arts and
sciences connected therewith’. In the criteria for validation listed above, no
weightings are presently given to the separate themes with the exception of design,
which must constitute at least half of assessed work at Part 1 and Part 2. At the same
time, flexibility and individuality of courses over and above these requirements is
encouraged, enabling schools of architecture to respond to opportunities in their own
institutional, regional and professional contexts. A course that meets the requirements
of the criteria must also provide an opportunity to pursue related, specialised, or
optional studies. The form and content of related, specialised and optional studies are
a matter for each institution.
The RIBA (2002) states that diversity in course provision is encouraged for
programmes that, for example, link architecture with other subjects, emphasise
research, develop specialisms and promote advanced degrees. However, such
initiatives must not compromise the criteria.
Visiting Boards will have to be satisfied that, when considered as a whole, each
course provides a coherent educational experience and meets the full requirements of
the criteria for validation. Variations in educational practice and innovations in
academic programmes must not compromise the delivery of the essential content of
these requirements.
Figure 3: The study of architecture: Small systems forming a large complex system (Bagaeen, 2006)
6. Integration in the Study of Architecture
Boyer and Mitgang (1996) argue that architecture, by nature and tradition, holds vast
potential as a model for the integration and application of learning, largely because of
its most distinctive feature, the design studio.
The criteria place greater emphasis on knowledge and understanding of technology
and environment and the ability to integrate this within design projects (RIBA, 2002).
In fact, both the ARB and RIBA criteria emphasise integration and require that
schools of architecture show they respond to this is cyclical accreditation visits
undertaken by both organisations.
This criteria is explicit in how this should be done. For the design element in Part 1,
students are expected to demonstrate coherent architectural designs that integrate a
knowledge of:
1. The ways that analysis, research, context, budget, preparation and
development of a brief inform a design proposal
2. The regulatory frameworks, and health & safety considerations that guide
design and building construction
3. Architectural histories and theories, of physical, artistic and cultural contexts,
and their use in informing the design process
For the technology and environment element in Part 1, students are expected to
demonstrate, within coherent architectural designs and the academic portfolio, the
ability to integrate knowledge of the principles of building technologies,
environmental design and construction methods, in relation to human well-being, the
welfare of future generations, the natural world, consideration of a sustainable
environment, use of materials, process of assembly and structural principles.
For the design element in Part 2, students are expected to produce and demonstrate
coherent and well resolved architectural designs that integrate knowledge of the
social, political, economic and professional context that guides building construction.
For the technology and environment element in Part 2, students are expected to
demonstrate, within coherent architectural designs and the academic portfolio, the
ability to integrate knowledge of:
1. The principles and theories associated with visual, thermal and acoustic
Environments
2. Climatic design and the relationship between climate, built form, construction,
life style, energy consumption and human well-being
RIBA validation procedures (2005) describe how an RIBA visiting Board would
welcome a brief explanation of how the school of architecture tackles each of the five
main areas of the criteria for validation for each course, and how these are integrated
into the courses. Boards have in the past found that some schools have provided
incomplete or insufficient evidence/ documentation – if this occurs and it is deemed
by the Board to be serious enough, the Board is able to suspend its consideration of
the relevant course(s). Where there are very serious concerns regarding either the
failure of the course to address the criteria or meet required standards which, in the
opinion of the Visiting Board could not be rectified by specifying conditions of
validation, it will recommend that validation be withdrawn with effect from the end of
the academic session following the decision of the RIBA Professional Services Board.
It is in this context that the subject of integration raises its head.
A closer look at the challenges of integration
Let us take for example one system/challenge in the study of architecture. In this case,
I propose to use the technology and environment element. What the visiting boards
want to know is how, for example, is specialist knowledge in this area integrated into
the studio? I would argue that this is not as simple as that for those of us who teach
architecture. There are in fact two aspects to this question: How to synthesise and
design with this specialist knowledge, and how to prove you have done it.
The first of these questions is about the process of teaching and the latter concerns
how this knowledge is mapped clearly to ARB/RIBA criteria; the manifestation and
evidence. This is part of what I would call the continuum of explicitness: If a student
does a technology module and is assessed on it, there is clear evidence of that
specialist knowledge. However, if the desire is for integration, the very act of
separating it into a discrete module can be problematic and simply encourages a tickbox mentality. Ultimately, architecture is about the whole, even if one must prove
things in the portfolio individually.
Is integration possible?
The simple answer to this question is that it is. In fact, it has to be. For this to happen,
staff should be encouraged to think about both the ways in which courses may be
structured (modules, learning outcomes, etc.) and how they are taught. What is at
stake here is the balance between, on the one hand, the modularisation and therefore
the explicitness of evidence, and on the other seamless integration made by
encouraging ways of integrative thinking.
It is ultimately about getting the balance right and promoting the way of thinking
advocated at the beginning of this paper. One successful example of how integration
in the study of architecture is the experience of the Year 1 Pilot in Student Personal
Development Planning (SPDP) recently undertaken at the Department of Architecture
at the University of Strathclyde.
SPDP might be defined as ‘a structured and supported process undertaken by an
individual to reflect upon their own learning, performance and/or achievement and to
plan for their personal, educational and career development.’ (The Dearing Report,
1997). For the purposes of definition and clarity, SPDP should not be confused with
Personal Development or Progress Files as outlined by Dearing. Progress Files can be
defined as both manifestation and evidence of personal development, consisting of
two elements: ‘a transcript recording student achievement, and a means by which
students can monitor, build and reflect upon their personal development’ (The
Dearing Report, 1997). It is emphasised that the process of SPDP is distinct from the
product, the product of SPDP in the following proposal being immutably linked with
the academic output of the curriculum.
The Departmental SPDP proposal at the Department of Architecture at Strathclyde
therefore describes both the envisaged structure of the process with attendant means
of support, the product, nominally Progress File, and the methods and implications of
implementation.
The Department did not formally recognise SPDP as a distinct activity, but introduced
it organically into the culture of the Department to reinforce and consolidate
established pedagogy. It was not introduced as an additional credit but integrated
seamlessly with existing coursework. It was also the Learning Enhancement Network
at Strathclyde that recommended embedding SPDP to the point of invisibility. SPDP
was not perceived as a tick box exercise but students were encouraged to embrace the
benefits of SPDP as a voluntary act of self-awareness and life-long learning. Most
important, SPDP in the Department was administered by a single member of staff, the
SPDP Coordinator whose job was to plan, manage and coordinate.
The issues and the arguments involved in this pilot are simple. Because the majority
of classes in the study of architecture are compulsory in alignment with professional
accreditation regulations, any additional tasks that the students needed to undertake
regarding SPDP were minimal. Therefore, every effort was made to create an
integrated network of activities to deliver SPDP objectives organically grown within
and woven through the curriculum. Classes in specific subject areas such as
Architectural History and Theory, Building Technology and Environment, and Media
and Communication, run in tandem with the studio. In ever increasing efforts at
integration, skills and knowledge gained in these classes are tested as applications
within or around studio design projects. With this process of creation and reflection,
there is at the core of the student’s learning within the study of architecture a
development of critical faculties with regard to their own work. This self-critical
context is suitably tempered to SPDP.
The SPDP process recognised this unique aspect of the study of architecture as a
supportive backdrop to the tenets of SPDP, and stressed that its existing studio
structure and culture already supported and embraced the process ambition of SPDP,
and had existing tangible product from this process, vis a vis Progress File
components (as outlined in the Dearing Report, 1997), in the form of the portfolio and
the sketchbook. According to Dearing, this Progress File is the manifestation and
evidence of personal development consisting of two elements: A transcript and a
means by which students can monitor build and reflect upon their personal
development. What the Department proposed in this instance is that the architecture
portfolio by its very nature is reflective, and could act as definitive graphic evidence
that “the student has participated in a range of learning contexts at each stage and
level of their programme” (Department of Architecture, 2004). What was proposed
here was that the SPDP experience extended the remit of the architectural portfolio to
the logical incorporation of SPDP objectives: That all academic work, including class
work is included in the students’ academic portfolio to fulfil the demands set by
Dearing. In this instance, the physical portfolio became the physical embodiment of
the student’s SPDP, including the student’s understanding of the process as much as
outcome.
7. Conclusions
What could then be done to extend this Year 1 pilot into other years? This paper
argues that for SPDP to be successfully networked into all studios, classes, tutorials,
etc… it is critical that all staff ‘buy into’ the common aspiration, engage with the
ambitions of integration, and are suitably inducted and supported while keeping
additional responsibilities to a minimum.
For the model to succeed, the Strathclyde experience has shown that a coordinator, a
manager, must be in place and must have a ‘system/network/semi-lattice’ for support
in place. Perhaps for this to happen, schools of architecture must be enabled to
structure their own architecture curricula instead of overregulation from the regulating
bodies. Those on the other side of this debate would argue that schools would not be
able to articulate their educational objectives as well as uphold the reference points for
quality assessment on their own. The way forward, I believe, cannot be through the
creation of rigid sets of subject specifications to restrict or direct educational content.
The answer may lie somewhere in the middle.
8. References
Alexander, C. (1978) A pattern language: Towns, buildings, construction. Oxford:
Oxford University Press
Alexander, C. (1965) A city is not a tree, Architectural Forum, Vol. 122, No 1, April
1965, pp 58-62 (Part I), Vol. 122, No 2, May 1965, pp 58-62 (Part II)
ARB (2002) Prescription of qualification: Criteria. London: Architects Registration
Board
Biggs, J. (2003) Teaching for quality learning at university. Buckingham: SRHE and
OUP
Boyer, Ernest L. & Mitgang, Lee D. (1996) Building community: A new future
for architectural education and practice. Princeton, NJ: The Carnegie
Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching
Brown, M., Fry, H. and Marshall, S. (2003) “Reflective practice”, in Heather Fry,
Steve Ketteridge and Stephanie Marshall (eds.) A handbook for teaching and learning
in higher education. 2nd. Edition Reprinted 2004. London: Routledge Falmer, pp.
215-225
Cliff, A.F. and Woodward, R. (2004) “How do academics come to know? The
structure and contestation of discipline-specific knowledge in a design school”,
Higher Education, vol. 48, pp. 269-290
Coyne, R. and Snodgrass, A. (1995) Problem Setting Within Prevalent Metaphors of
Design. Design Issues, 11, pp 31-61
The Dearing Report (1997) Higher Education in the Learning Society London:
HMSO. Accessed on 1 February 2006 at http://www.ncl.ac.uk/ncihe/index.htm
Department Of Architecture, University of Strathclyde (2004) Student Personal
Development Planning Proposal
Kelbaugh, D. (2004) “Seven fallacies in architectural culture”, Journal of
Architectural Education, vol. 58(1), pp. 66-68. Long version accessed on 2 February
2006 at
http://www.tcaup.umich.edu/publications/sevenfallacies/sevenfallacies_long_81204.p
df
Lewis, P. (2005) “The end of the studio?” Prospect, August 2005, pp. 18-23
Lipsett, A. (2004) “Architects at loggerheads”, in the Times Higher Education
Supplement, 26 November 2004
Maitland, B. (1997) “Problem-based learning for architecture and construction
management”, in David Boud and Graham Feletti (eds.) The challenge of problembased learning. 2nd Edition. London: Kogan Page, pp. 211-217
RIBA (2002) Criteria for validation.
RIBA (2005) Procedures for the Validation of UK Courses and Examinations in
Architecture
Samuelowicz, K. and Bain, J.D. (2001) “Revisiting academics’ beliefs about teaching
and learning”, Higher Education, vol. 41, pp. 299-325
Schon, D. (1984) The Architectural Studio as an Exemplar of Education for
Reflection in Action. Journal of Architectural Education, 1, 1984, pp 2–9
Schon, Donald. (1983) The reflective practitioner: How professionals think in
action. New York: Basic Books
Trigwell, K. (2001) “Judging university teaching”, The International Journal for
Academic Development, vol. 6(1), pp. 65-73