making of the year-one design studio

Window and Mirror - From Tainan to the World

In an era dominated by global connectivity through platforms like Instagram and Facebook, where Google and ChatGPT serve as encyclopedias, and design tools such as Adobe Suite, Sketchup, Rhino, and Python are the norm, our students face a challenge in distinguishing themselves in a homogenized landscape. As our access to knowledge and design processes becomes less distinctive, the question arises: How can NCKU students leverage their unique islander experiences to stand out on a global stage? This has been the driving question since my return to Taiwan, here are a few thoughts to share.

 

To inspire the best in our students, we must not only expose them to the latest global issues and trends (creating "windows" to the world) but also nurture their confidence to introspect and discover their identity and internal wealth of resources (looking into the "mirror"). This “self-discovery” extends beyond the individual and personal to encompass cultural practices. The starting point for this transformative process is the city they will call home for the next few years – Tainan.

 

Revisiting the Foundation: Bricolage and Formalism

The revamped Foundation Studio at NCKU draws inspiration from two key cultural perspectives in architectural education: Bricolage and Formalism. "Bricolage" represents an attitude and spatial approach influenced by the city surrounding NCKU, embodying Taiwan's distinct sensibility. This encompasses the improvisation of materials, vibrant use of tectonic expressions, and adaptive use of space and collaged methods. Rather than sidelining these intelligences, students are encouraged to cultivate a critical mindset, learning valuable lessons from Tainan. On the other hand, the "Formal" exercise aligns with the Bauhaus pedagogical traditions observed globally in architecture schools. This process exposes students to essential aspects of architecture production such as space, light, materiality, scale, tectonics and representation, providing a solid foundation for their future learning.

 

Project 1: Urban Detective

Students are encouraged to explore Tainan's West-Central district using their visual, auditory, tactile, gustatory, and olfactory senses. Working in groups, they act as urban detectives, tracing searching for the former shadows of Deqing Creek (德慶溪). Their mission involves studying and documenting ordinary objects, buildings, streets, contexts, and people akin to detectives uncovering artifacts that support their hypotheses and narratives about the historic city. Students transition from the general to the specific, drawing upon both textual reading and physical experiences to illustrate their discoveries. Their embodied experiences are reflected on an A0 drawing and model, see Figure 1.

 

Additionally, they constructed a full-scale "Perceptual Instrument" aimed at enhancing, augmenting, or amplifying their initial perceptions of the city. This pedagogical approach not only allows students to document the city from their unique perspectives but also teaches them hands-on skills through the making of the instrument. In essence, this project is designed to inspire students to think outside the box and nurture their creativity by engaging in hands-on exploration and construction, see Figure 2 & 3.

Figure 1. Deqing Creek (德慶溪) interpretative drawing by 湯創孫, advising tutor 黃聖鈞.

Figure 2. Surface recorder by 謝政庭, advising tutor 林煌迪.

Figure 3. Wind propelled Urban Music Box by 廖昱衡, advising tutor 毛映壹.

Project 2: Exploring the Cube

Complementing the first project, the second one spans six weeks and encourages students to develop their creativity "inside" the box, both figuratively and literally. The initial step involves an accidental union, casting a plaster massing of a 20x20x20 cm cube through the boolean of a “simple” or abstract geometry to create negative spaces. This process explores a student’s intuitive sense and makes visible the relationship between solid and void, space and light, heavy and lightness. Moving on, the second step utilizes surface materials to transform the initial cube into a tectonic system, developing the internal space and defining the interplay between inside and outside.  Step three introduces yet another transformation, employing stick or wire materials to modify the surface cube. After completing these sequential changes, the fourth step tasks students with evolving these models into a distinctive Spiritual Retreat with the inclusion of toilets inside so the discussion of served and servant spaces can take place. The final project includes creating 1:50 scale models and drawings, contextualized in Yuguang Island (漁光島). This approach, incorporating a simple site, encourages students to contemplate the intricate relationship between architecture and the environment. The project stands as a testament to the infinite possibilities that emerge within a defined set of constraints, see Figure 4-7. Before progressing to the fourth phase, all 64 students, along with eight tutors and TAs, engaged in site observation, exploring several fair-face concrete “cubic” buildings designed by Mr. Mao (毛森江建築師), See Figure 8.

Figure 4. SOLID CUBE Casting Form & Accidental Union, exercise 1 by 黃韋慈, advising tutor 許家茵.

Figure 5. SOLID CUBE orthographic drawings by 黃韋慈, advising tutor 許家茵.

Figure 6. (Right) SOLID CUBE Casting Form & Accidental Union, (Center) PLANAR CUBE Modifying Form & Shaping Space, (Left) EDGE CUBE Modifying Form & Defining Limits, Exercises 1 through 3 by 巫辰鍰, advising tutor 呂武隆.

Figure 7. RETREAT OF LIGHT, WATER & EARTH Siting Form & Designing Architecture, exercises 4 by 蔡昀臻, advising tutor 黃聖鈞.

Figure 8. Site visit and study trip to projects designed by by Mr. Mao (毛森江建築師).

Peer-to-Peer Learning and Collective Display

A notable shift in this year's year-end review involves a significant boost in peer-to-peer learning. Instead of relying solely on verbal critiques from visiting critics, we've fostered a sharing environment through the collective display of students' works. Students are encouraged to pin up their drawings and models at the same time, creating an opportunity for mutual exchange. This simple change of organization enables students to obtain insights by observing, analyzing similarities and differences in approaches, and witnessing how other classmates translate their ideas into design representations. We observed that most students actively participate throughout the entire review process, demonstrating heightened engagement. Importantly, these sessions conclude before six o'clock, avoiding the tendency to run late into the evening, with blasé students filling the room, see Figure 9.

Studio and Architectural Graphics Integration

Another adjustment this year was the integration between Studio design project and the Graphics assignments, whereby the course productions are interconnected. They are not seen as separate courses but instead related synthesis. One benefit of this adjustment is allowing students to better focus their attention and efforts, in other words, work in depth, rather than work more, See Figure 10.

 

Reflective Documentation

The term concludes with a new tool for learning – a course documentation required for all year-one students. This “portfolio” serves as a graphic journal of their 18-week learning journey, providing an opportunity for reflection on their rite of passage to architecture. We also hope that this process will initiate a habit of being organized and reflective throughout their learning at NCKU.

Figure 9. Week 3 interim project sharing and review.

Figure 10. Architectural Graphics and Design Studio integration. Students shown here working on a collective drawing assignment.

Final review briefing

From One Way Critique to Vineyard Sharing

I have been wondering, actually doubting, the effectiveness of the jury system. Particularly the kind of arrangement where the student often stands singly in front of a panel of ‘judges’ evaluating their creative productions.

I often observe that even though the presenting student might be listening intently (often not), their peers are more likely to be browsing through their phones or their souls missing in action. Many are waiting for the review session to be over. This, of course, changes when some high-profile figure shows up. For good or bad reasons, the students would participate without being dazed.

One alternative to the typical protocol that works better is the vineyard arrangement, where the works are placed in the center, with students surrounding it. This turn away from the “critique” and towards “sharing” of the work focuses not so much on individuality but on collective learning and reflection. The physical emphasis of the center brings attention to the work being shared. Very often, learning for me is not so much about what is being said but what is being felt and experienced in that particular moment.

The Thick and Thin of Fragrant Harbor

The linearity of thickness and thinness is a unique experience of Fragrant Harbor shaped by intense phenomenological stimuli. Be it the glint of light glimmering along suspended street signs; sounding of bells dinging from tram cars; fragrances radiating from food stalls; or the unavoidable bodily contact between commuters in underground trains. The thick and thin of Fragrant Harbor are places where culture, identity, and everyday practices meet. It is also the starting point of our urban drawing project, where the linearity of Hong Kong phenomenology is explored through the lines of graphite, and episodes of young artists discovering, learning, and drawing together the city they inhabit.

In episode one, thin lines of streets were traversed directly and studied through literature. That is to say, young artists drew from different sources of inspiration. By walking through, observing, and getting to know the places, particularly in the hodgepodge neighborhoods of Yau Matei and Shum Shuipo. The direct personal experience was crisscrossed with the stories depicted in Lee Ou Fan’s “Walking along Kowloon Streets”, an observational and semi-theoretical reflection of the city; accounting their histories, literature records, myths, and fantasies. In episode two, the thick underground train lines and stations served as a means to debate the issues of masses and individuals by twenty university students, at a time when freedom, rights, and identity were colliding in their city.


The multi-authored drawing series takes aim at drawing urban conditions and processes through the questions: Can architectural drawing act as a site of memory, documentation, and imagination? Can it perform as a pedagogical device to draw out the multi-temporal and spatiality of the city? The drawings reinterpret the collective paintings of Qing Dynasty artists Sun Hu, Jin Kun, and Cheng Zhidao, and the contemporary drawing practices of David Gersten, Atelier Bow-wow, and Niall McLaughlin.

Drawing Towards a New Beginning

 

“In the martial art of Karate, the symbol of pride for a black belt is to wear it long enough such that the dye fades to white as to symbolize returning to the beginner state.”

 John Maeda

PROLOGUE: A December in KL

To be visually different is what architects who have achieved international notoriety say when promoting their projects. It is the spectacle they hope to create and accomplish. It is also why their lectures are usually less inspiring than anticipated, typically organized linearly with pictures and drawings of their design, annotated with empty slogans. As an audience we go to the lecture to be enlightened by a narrative, to discover a unique design methodology, or perhaps a clear ethical position. But instead, we learned about their non-transferrable intuition, a particular feeling to react, a eureka moment, and we hear the use of exhaustive metaphors. Therefore, we leave the lecture knowing nothing more than when we arrived 60 minutes before. What we’ve experienced and heard between 1st to 4th of December in Kuala Lumpur was different. Not only was it visually stimulating but was also an all-encompassing experience.

The lecture, forum, thesis presentation and exhibition curated and organized by professors Wang Chun-Hsiung, Lai Chee Kien, Teoh Chee Keong and Wu Yao Ting consist of a series of meaningful events that took place in a powerful and phenomenologically charged space, REXKL. A multi-purpose event hall with restaurants, retails and a maze-like librairie converted from a disused cinema. Originally built in 1947, the history-laden urban repository was “reincarnated” through the conservation advocacy effort and design intelligence of Malaysian architects Shin Chang and Shin Tseng[1]. The project, both its programming and the building redesign, is a revitalization par excellence of what new vernacular architecture could be. From exposing the histories of brute brick face and concrete frame to the careful insertion of modular design plywood shelving. The building is an embodiment of the human senses multiplied by memory. The forum itself was a massive undertaking involving plenty of hard work and imagination by the committee members. The architectural sensibilities and perspectives presented by the students, design proponents, educators and Southeast Asia architects all contributed earnestly to the new architectural canons and approaches that are in urgent demand.

 

SWINGING PENDULUM

If the mid and second half of the 20th Century was about expanding global collaboration by building institutions and agreements such as the UN, EU, APEC, WTO to cultivate a notion of “Us” within the global community. The prevailing force at the start of the 21st Century is to dismantle it through Populism, Brexit, MAGA, strict border control and decoupling of the supply chains. The momentum seeks to redraw a clear distinction between you / me, and they / we, flushing the Neoliberalism of “We are the world” down the drain. To make the situation even starker, the fortuitous rise of COVID pandemic seems to be the last nail on the coffin.

Given this background the forum’s theme “New Vernacular Grounds” could not come at a timelier manner. Because, if history swings like a pendulum, then this opportune movement toward a receptive ground, more attuned to local specificities, should be embraced with open arms. The call for an alternative to universalization, an inevitable parallel with globalization, with locale specific architecture to resist the placelessness approach. One that responds to the topographic, climatic conditions of a site, the tectonics of principles, and the cultural sensibility of its people and place. A sensibility where the tactile would surpass the visual, the tectonic would win over the scenographic, and the differentiated would be favored over the homogeneous[2].

Through the 25 student thesis provocations from 5 southeast Asian countries and Taiwan, the discussions from the forum have sparked a fresh energy and new interpretations on what “vernacularism” could project and become in the 21st century. Whether it is through the lens of “Community and Heritage” led by Prof. Kemas Ridwan Kurniawan of University of Indonesia; “Resilience and Nature” moderated by Prof. Bakhtiar Amir of UCSI; “Materiality and Tectonics” supported by Prof. Yeo Kang Shua of SUTD; or “Technology and the City” by me, the presented projects captured the opportunities bespoke to the conference theme. It also brought to the fore new ways of engaging our built environment. Explicitly suggesting that the students are keenly aware of their role as socially oriented cultural producers. The source of their inspiration comes from the city they inhabit. From Kampung Braga, Kaohsiung, Kuala Lumpur, Manila, to Taichung and more. Despite the variations in sites, there is a common ambition among these projects. Which is to provoke and elevate the pertinent issue of ‘locality’ to the public’s consciousness. Three examples in the following may help to explain.

INNOVATING GENIUS LOCI

In the co-author’s hometown of Metro Manila, it has one of the worst public transportation systems in the world. The proposed thesis creates a unified Grand Central station and underground corridor which connects major railways from new to existing. It offers a solution to the transport crisis and provides realistic public facilities that are community sensitive and adaptable to future changes. Through streamlined forms of historical vernacular design and modern interpretation of traditional materials by using local elements and details while integrating them with contemporary technologies. The central station serves as an example to reinforce Philippine iconography onto the new station project, making it relevant again in the contemporary monotonous urban cityscape. The proposal creates a new engagement platform with the support of the local organizations within the vicinity which would benefit from the new revitalized public infrastructure while providing flexible public breathing spaces. Altogether, elevating the commuting public’s experience and solidifying a Filipino vernacular character. Promoting more people to use the country’s public transport and walk more as a valid alternative rather than using their private vehicles. 

In Pudu, locally known as “half jungle” in Kuala Lumpur, a region developed in the 1900s during the British Colonial rule. It was one of the most prosperous places in KL, as such, Pudu carries a high historical value and distinctive architectural characteristics influenced by its multiracial community and living style. Redevelopment of Pudu Market by adaptive reuse reclaims the vanished place identity by enhancing the sense of place. Through interpreting its “genius loci” to form a sustainable development in terms of social, environmental, and economy. The proposed redevelopment aims to integrate innovative technology in order create a new and diverse traditional market journey with dynamic experiential quality. It reimagines its culture dimension between past, present, and future by fulfilling the community’s contemporary needs as well as to create the much-needed urban vibrancy.

 Another project is situated in the Kampung Braga region of Bandung, Indonesia. An urban slum with the lack of open areas, and an enclave village with low accessibility. The project proposes to intervene at specific nodes through urban acupunctures via grassroot participation under the concept of 'Patches!'. The project tackles intangible intervention by seeding activities in accordance with the habits and abilities of its residents. Meanwhile, tangible intervention is achieved through different spatial typologies to make Braga Village a livable community. The thesis offers the design of new vernacular typologies and demonstrates a result of a twofold increase when compared to the existing condition in aspects of connectivity, integration, and agent analysis. In addition to the two main anchor locations in the North and South, the design increased the public open area from 2.8% to 6.7%.

These vernacular innovations are examples of student’s first opportunity to put forward their answers to complex sets of issues. The thesis projects provided a platform which enables these possibilities. For most students it is the first time they are given a chance to select the instrument(s) of their choice, and their first opportunity to define and defend the ideal intentions for their architecture. This is also the initial attempt in validating their relevance as a young architect. It is an exciting and critical moment of their lives[3].

 

EDUCATING AN ARCHITECT

Taiwanese American children’s book illustrator and writer Grace Lin, describes the need for children to have two types of books on their shelves. On one level books provide windows to see the immensity of the world, with another serving as mirrors for discovering who they are deep inside. Grace warned of the deficiency for having books of singular kind, which she argues will either overemphasize the narrow interpretation of the world, through their single point of view, or alternatively amassing great knowledge of the world without knowing how to contextualize it through their personal experience[4].

We believe this articulation also applies to architectural education, particularly now, at a time when the practice of architecture has become increasingly global. Not only are buildings being designed from across the globe but building components could be manufactured and sourced from all over the world. This borderless crossing has resulted in cities becoming monotonous for their lack of differentiation, where cities are at risk of becoming more like one another than carrying its unique identity and lineage.

Architectural education offers two areas of study to students, they are “instrument” and “intention”. Study of instruments involves the use of tools necessary to transform an idea toward a physical manifestation. Study of intention is to find purpose behind the action that one takes. If the instrument draws parallel to “how” then intention could be understood as “why”. Works represented during New Vertical Grounds are the result of this meeting place between instrument and intention, between the mind and the heart. We hope the event not only consummated the student’s formal architectural studies but the commencement of their life-long projects. To conclude, perhaps we shall offer a few thoughts on the forum title, “New Vernacular Grounds.”

 

NEW

What does it mean to be new? Not in the sense of having a new blouse, one that a lady just bought from the mall. But a “new” dress with completely different performance, meaning and appearance. When “new” is so radically different from its origin, does it require a separate category of its own? Within this premise is it possible for vernacularism to be new? Perhaps the “originality” of an approach could never be separated from its “origin”.

 

VERNACULAR

In 1965 Bernard Rudolfsky reminded the MoMA bourgeois and elite mainstream establishment of the value of vernacular architecture[5]. The message delivered through its exhibit and publication attempts to break down narrow concepts of art of building by introducing the unfamiliar world to the so-called “non-pedigree architecture”. The indigenous craft of building that is rooted in native conditions with a synthesis between material and construction; utility and performativity; and environmental responses that is rooted in trans-generations of embodied cultural knowledge. Much of this observation by Rudolfsky is once again purposeful, not in a nostalgic way but rather in helping the architecture community on reframing itself to broaden the previously dominating canons.

 

GROUNDS

Architect Michiel Riedijk describes “position” as the ground through which the work is operated on[6]. Not only is he articulating the physical or construction grounding of the project, but the origins through which the work is conceived and rooted from, ethically, socially, and technically. The position an architect adopts with regards to a given assignment is fundamental to the design of architecture. For example, should an architect work with any commission that comes her way regardless of social, political, and ethical considerations? Should an architect work in every part of the world simply because she is able to do so? What is the financial condition through which the architect is working under? Should the architect be a service provider to the client, accommodating his demands as best as possible? What role should the architect play in the construction process, as an observer or provide fantastical imagery without intervention to the production of the building process? These are not rhetorical questions. The nature of the position is utterly important, particularly due to the permanence of the building and its impact to the city and society at large.

 

EPILOGUE: Ending as a Beginning

So, what now? The conclusion of the ‘New Vernacular Grounds’ forum also marked the beginning of a new set of questions. Has everyone achieved what we’ve set out to do at the inception of the journey? If not, will we continue to find and define our search and research? What will we do and where will we go? Perhaps as suggested by John Maeda[7], we could revisit our “thesis” not through the assumed attitude of a black belt, but instead with the beginner’s eyes of curiosity, questioning and fervor. It is with that passion, that one’s “Architectural Project” may be continued to be expanded and shaped.

 


Cheng-Chun Patrick HWANG 

Julian Cedric S. MALTO 

Muhammad BARKAH 

Jian Jin Nigel CHAN


[1] See Architizer, https://architizer.com/projects/rexkl/

[2] Léa-Catherine Szacka and Véronique Patteeuw, “Critical Regionalism for our time”, Architecture Review, 22 Nov., 2019.

 

[3] Patrick Hwang, 2017, “Ending as Beginning”, CUHK MArch Thesis Publication, Hong Kong: CUHK Press.

[4] Grace Lin, The Windows and Mirrors of your Child’s Bookshelf, TEDx Talk, March 19, 2016

[5] Bernard Rudofsky, 1964, Architecture Without Architects : A Short Introduction to Non-Pedigreed Architecture. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press.

[6] Michiel Riedijk, 2009, The Drawing: The architect’s raison d’être, Rotterdam: Uitgeverij 010.

[7] John Maeda, 2006, The Laws of Simplicity : Design Technology Business Life. Cambridge Mass: MIT Press.

The Visible and the Invisible

Throwback to 2019 January21. Dung Kai Cheung speaks about the dynamic relationship between the visible and the invisible, and the power it possesses to hide and invoke meaning.

DRAWING TOWARDS A COLLABORATIVE TURN

MULTI-AUTHORSHIP

Why is it that while architecture has always been a collaborative, interdisciplinary, and team-based endeavor yet its education has mostly focused on the individual? This is especially insistent for those courses in drawing, visual studies, and design communications. The course objectives tend to premise on acquiring skills to enhance the mastery and deftness of the individual students, focusing on cultivating students’ “individual talent and creativity” and not their capacity to work with others1. What might be the alternative methods in which these subjects could be taught more collaboratively by enhancing the potentiality of ‘creative’ co-synthesis? Drawing Together is a project exploring these questions through the ‘collaborative turn’ by drawing toward multiple rather than singular authorship.

Documenting a period of three years with participants of different sizes, from small groups of two to large collectives of twenty-plus. Students from different programs and levels engaged in days-long drawing sessions.  The workshops are organized through a structured and rigorous progression of research to synthesis, simple to complex, and quickness to slowness, it nurtures a collaborative-friendly drawing approach involving shared contributions. As the drawing project coincided with the beginning and the peak of Covid 19 pandemic, we took the opportunity to embrace the zeitgeist by Drawing Together (in person) and Drawing Together, Not Together (online). 

The workshops begin with speedy studies and exercises that are traversed through contour, gesture, and tonal drawings. Techniques commonly used in foundation fine arts classrooms. The burst modules —between 10 seconds to 5 minutes— seek to stimulate the learner’s intuition, and immediacy and to enhance their hand-eye coordination. The process enables a form of tacit knowledge one cannot acquire passively but can only achieve through doing. It also encourages the students to forgo their burden and desire to achieve likeness in portraying the observed subject matter, a tendency often found in less confident students.

FROM QUESTIONING TO DRAWING

Questioning is an important building block of the project, and it is often instigated at the outset and throughout the course of the workshop. Questions that explore both the cerebral and the practical aspects of drawing, such as: What is a drawing? Is it an instrument of communication, a tool for thinking, or could it be viewed as a process or platform for social interaction? Should we compel to view drawing aesthetically or could it be a proxy for self-expression? Instead of treating drawing as a skillset related to talent, can we accept it as basic literacy on par with writing, math, and science? Could drawing be game-like  (such as Exquisite Corpse2) which is serendipitous, creative, fun, and even therapeutic? On the pragmatic side, questions and discussions involve the modus operandi of drawing, i.e. the determination of methods and processes; drawing instruments and duration etc. 

Drawing by Hiu Sun LEUNG and Lincoln CHAN

The first example I wish to discuss is Drawing Life, see Figure 1. It involves two people drawing the nude in the studio together. The drawings consist of two 5-minutes sketches drawn by two different students.  The first student makes the initial mark capturing the gesture of the life model. As their first 5-minutes come to an end, the students are prompted to pass on their drawings to a colleague sitting beside them. Surprised by the prompt, the second group of students is genuinely intrigued with the prospect of drawing upon someone else’s drawing. This disruption to the expected single-authorship stirred up a unique sense of improvisation that was refreshing to them. Since the workshop is attended primarily by architectural students, they were invited to view these passed-on drawings not only by their aesthetic qualities but also as potential ‘contexts’ for receiving new interventions and co-authorships. Using architectural analogies the drawing exercises encourage students to react to ‘existing context’, composition, drawing style, and technique of the circumstantial conditions. 

Sandy CHEUNG, Lai Sum FONG and Sen Yi CHENG

As the expectation for single authorship fades the drawing became a place for relational authorship, where one builds upon and reacts to the creation of others. In the second example Life of Three Kitchens, see Figure 2. It was conceived by three contributors using a triptych as a format to depict their respective home kitchens. The drawings took place in two locations. First, at the studio where an initial discussion took place, followed by drawings created individually at home in different spaces and times. This asynchronous method differs from the first example in that it offers an additional surprise when the triptych is recomposed together in the studio for the first time. 

As the workshop progresses, we experimented with other methods of drawing together. Working with the framework of supervised (involving the instructor) versus unsupervised (without instructor); Synchronous (drawing in the same space/ time) versus asynchronous (drawing in different spaces/ times). The scale of collaboration also increased progressively transforming from two, four to eight collaborators. It culminated in the last piece consisting of 20 contributors. Several students were so immersed in the process that they invited their friends and families to join in. Therefore the question of who is allowed to draw became a discussion point as well. The Massive Individual is a 1.5 meters by 10 meters long scroll drawn in graphite during a four days period in June 2021. The drawing captured the mixed fiction-reality whereby the Mass Transit Railway (MTR) stations are contiguous not by their literal connections but through similarities of their atmospheres, paying homage to Guy Debord’s Psychogeographic Map of Paris (1957). MTR as an important economic, social, and spatial construct for Hong Kong became the common ground for those 20-plus contributors. It is also a means to explore questions about the individual and the city. 

RELATIONAL COLLABORATION

In lieu of a few prototypes, such as the design-build studio, architectural pedagogy is premised mostly on single authorship. Some of the most commonly applied group work is often task-oriented such as undertaking initial site analysis; Developing a construction report; Interface with the community; Building a 1:1 installation structure; or proposing a large-scale urban project. These forms of collaboration assume that the task is simply to get participants to contribute existing knowledge rather than nurturing the possibility for ‘relational collaboration’3. 

The term relational collaboration is described by John Hagel et al, as the challenge of creating new capabilities and knowledge so that the participants, as individuals, can get better as a result of the collaboration. Its goal is an exchange of tacit knowledge and to offer creative autonomy while learning from others. Relational collaboration under the premise of Drawing Together is cultivated through a carefully designed learning environment and framework, including the rules of engagement, atmosphere, time, and space. In this way, it is a scalable collaboration contingent upon the creation of the participants involved.  Relational collaboration is unlike 'transactional collaboration' that works in a linear progression, vis-à-vis the Fordist division of labor. Although necessary in the production of architecture, transactional collaboration offers little contribution to creative synthesis.

FORDIST DIVISION-OF-LABOR OR CREATIVE COLLABORATION?

There are those who argue for the benefit of group work by referring to practice as its motivation. Claiming the work of a complex project is never the effort of one but instead a team with each playing a particular role in the delivery process. However, such claims offer false equivalence that does not capture the dynamic relationships involved in the academic setting. In business practices, a chain of command is defined according to various explicit or implicit hierarchies, rules, and practices. While at a place of learning, such a chain of command does not exist among peers4. Even when it does it takes place in a different form.

Division of labor has always existed in architectural drawings, particularly the kind that involves construction documents. A single drawing often involves a handful of people drawing and redrawing on digital files over the life of the drawing5. And collaborations are enabled through toolsets, such as Xreference in Autocad and Link in Revit etc. However, such collaboration rarely results in creative contribution. Drawing Together offers a counterpoint to these practices by exploring the paradox and challenge of achieving synthetic teamwork unique to architectural education, that is the challenge of educating a designer’s traditional role as the creative individual yet at the same time allowing them to be contributing team players as well.  

Endnotes:

1. See Andrzej Bialkiewicz. “Propaedeutics of teaching drawing to architects”, Global Journal of Engineering Education Vol. 21 (2). Australia: WIETE 2019.

2, See Hagel III, John & Brown, John Seely & Davison, Lang. “Defining Common Collaboration Tensions”. Harvard Business Review. May 7, 2009. https://hbr.org/2009/05/defining-common-collaboration

3. See Mark Morris discusses the practice of exquisite corpse in “All Night Long: The Architectural Jazz of the Texas Rangers.” Architectural design 83, no. 5 (2013): 20–27.

4. Heather M. Caruso and Anita Williams Woolley wrote extensively on the actions of 'collaboration' by construction documents, in “Harnessing the Power of Emergent Interdependence to Promote Diverse Team Collaboration.” In Diversity and Groups, 11:245–266. Emerald Group Publishing Limited, 2008.

5. Peter Mackeith. “On Teamwork: Standards and Practices”, SOM Journal 2013. Ostfildern-Ruit: Hatje Cantz.

DESIGN TEACHING

Most of the design teachers I know learn to teach on the job. No one went to a school to learn how to teach. Re-applying and retuning their own experiences as a student seems to be the most common way. Alternatively, one might try to teach by putting on his or her designer hat, hoping that the students can grasp the nuances of doing design. Essentially praying that talent and sensibility are teachable.

Unfortunately, such optimism rarely comes true. As such, the need to cultivate a self-motivating ethos or design method is necessary. Both of these take time to learn and develop. There have been many in the history of architectural education, that attempt to systematize pedagogy. One of which is Jean Nicholas L Durand. The student of Boullee. He famously wrote the two-books volume called The Precise lectures on architecture.

Unlike the other famous books on architecture like Alberti’s or Vitruvius, Durand’s book was particularly focused on the ways of doing architecture, in a systemic manner. It was essentially his teaching notes. One of the chapters that captured my attention was “How to acquire in a short time true architectural talent?” I read it many times. I still don’t think I have acquired the talent that he’s describing. In all seriousness, so what is design? Is design in architecture about problem-solving? For me, as an educator in a professional program, Architectural education is as much as problem-solving as it is about problem-making. Take the work of Frank Gehry. While he is known for his use of the metal panels. Many do not realized his way of problematizing the material as a design inquiry. Metal panels for him is not simply a material that shields the outside from the inside. But instead, it is an expression and characteristic that each building is associated with.

Depending on the context, program, lighting and weathering conditions, each unique solution is the result of, first, being able to formulate a problem. From the taut stainless steel and concealed fasteners of Disney Concert Hall under the context of sunny LA. To the flat lock seamed, paper-thin, crinkly and quilted dematerialized titanium in Bilbao; and the Angel-Hair blue interference-coated aluminum of the Seattle Experience project. Each, for him, was an opportunity for problem making. He did not take the path of least resistance. To what problem is he really solving? Those that the client demand? Or is he trying to craft the problems instead because he is curious?

So how do these ‘real-world’ examples apply to architectural education? A lot in fact. Since good design problems not only encourages the production of work but it also induces questioning and triggers curiosity. And curiosity, as we know, is the best incentive for learning.

One of the best problem givers in the recent history is probably John Hedjuk with his infamous admissions entrance exam questions and others. A well-considered design problem can Therefore  have significant consequences. The making of the design problem takes real work.  As it involves 1) defining a problem, 2) framing a problem, 3) setting problem limits, 4) crafting problems, and finally 5) creating a criterion for evaluating the success of a problem. As noted by Kyna Leski, these five processes are what’s necessary for formulating a rigorous and thoughtful design problem. However, before this could even begin. There is an even more important step. And that is the need to create the conditions for unlearning according to Kyna.

Unlearning unfolds in a way that creates. When you realize you don’t know something, you have created a problem. Not knowing how titanium would behave under the gloomy light of Bilbao, that need creates an impulse to know for Frank. The impulse is to know something that is much more specific than what you thought you were working on. This understanding is what I try to implement in the design studio and when designing the studio sequence. Of creating conditions to unlearn, and to empower the students to discover problems that did not exist along the way of working through the project.

Free Education

Back in my middle and high school days, I was lucky enough to live in one of the most vibrant parts of New York City near the East Village. Various street cultures, both accepted and illegitimate, were on full display and in close proximity. The arts environment was particularly stimulating. In my junior year, I was able to attend free art classes at the Cooper Union where both still life and figure drawings were being taught by senior students. It was one of the most memorable experiences for me as a young adult. Peter Cooper the industrialist, and philanthropist as we know, believed in offering practical free education to all.

Ever since then, the idea of "free school" was on my mind.

Today the AEP was able to interview two students as recipients of the Sebastian Law scholarship program where the tuition for the two weeks program could be waived. Both students came from underprivileged families, both were children of divorced parents. One student is supported by his sister as the mom can’t work and the dad is not around. Another student lives in outlying islands and gets up every morning at 5 am to go to school in the city with 2 hours of commute time. Even with that challenging routine, she was motivated enough to put together a portfolio that includes a study of Greek architecture with careful drawings of the columns. There is also a self-initiated design of a chair as a reaction to the lack of a ‘real’ task chair in her 350 square foot home.

After hearing their heartwarming stories Sebastian decided to generously sponsor both students as opposed to the one originally agreed.

Hopefully, this little exposure will help to stimulate them like how I was back in the day.


Atlas Victoria

“The main battle in imperialism is over land, of course; but when it came to who owned the land, who had the right to settle and work on it, who won it back, and who now plans its future — these issues were reflected, contested, and even for a time decided in narrative.” Edward Said

For a city whose precise identity has long been a source of fascination, Eunice Seng’s latest book tells the story of the archipelago city of Victoria like a Cubist painting. It offers a multifaceted gaze of the city’s contested history through the lenses of maps, films, and architecture. With occasional cameo appearances of technology, utopia, and the codified rules that govern its skyline and subtopia operation. The book is peppered with quotes from Atlas: The Archeology of an Imaginary City, but unlike Dung Kai-Cheung’s work which shuffles between history, theory, and fiction. Seng’s portraiture of Victoria is still in the process of making. Besides offering the answer to what-is, Resistant City: Histories, Maps and the Architecture of Development also provide several how-tos in chapter 6, Manuals: Resistance in Praxis, authored by colleagues and students of Seng’s. Probing beneath the surface of the canvas, what supports the work seems to be a position grounded in this very contested moment that we are witnessing and living in.

Michel de Certeau wrote in The Practice of the Everyday, that the itinerary is distinguished from the map. While the itinerary refers to the individual movements through walking the city streets as a pedestrian, the map assumes the role of a totalizing and singular view. The reader will assume the role of the pedestrian, a flâneur, who is the idle, urban stroller.  One who pauses almost as much as she moves wandering through the alleyway, composite buildings, and towers of Victoria.

In Maps: Territories of Contestation, we are shepherded through 16 episodes of maps narrating the maritime, trade, military, border, reclamation, development, and infrastructural histories of Hong Kong. Here we are reminded of the subjectivity and exclusivity embodied by the nature of map-making. The act of rendering the invisible visible comes with an implication that is beyond the geological or geographic, but political and economical. As Seng asserts: “Maps are compelling ways to convey cartographic information but they are also distortions of the reality they claim to represent. Insofar as they are used for reference and navigation, they can easily be used as a political and ideological instrument”.

In Noirs: The City, the Woman and Other Spaces, mid-century Hong Kong movies such as Black Rose (Hak Mui Gwai, 1965), Elevator Girl (Din Tai Neui Long, 1965), The Forsaken Love (Ching Cheun Mui Gwai, 1968), and The Arch (Dung Fu Yan, 1970) are explored for their evocative relationship and connection to Hong Kong’s recent history in domesticity, gender, and modernization during the turbulent period of the 1960s. A time remembered for the ideological contestation between the populist and the communist. The chapter concludes by highlighting the issues of the built-heritage. The disappearance of the cinema architecture which coincides with the fall of the Hong Kong film industry.

In chapters TOWERS: Technologies, Jardine House and Metropolitan Visions; and COMPOSITES: The City in a Building, Seng examines two prototypical topologies born out of the confined urban context and darlings to the city’s developers: the tall and the hybrid. The archetypes that exemplify the zeitgeist of the place. The chapters paint a picture of universal optimism that comes with the notion of “building the tallest” on one hand, on the other hand, dissecting the hybrid buildings of Chungking Mansion, Kiu Kwan Mansion as the ultimate “Downtown Athletic Club”, vis-a-vis Delirious New York, but also as the bastion of the rebel insurgents.

The book contains 6 chapters sandwiched in between a prologue and an epilogue, with a short addendum cataloging 85 public toilets in the Fragrant Harbour called Excursus: Mapping Toilet Architecture. These chapters are represented through a rich set of texts, drawings, illustrations, photos, diagrams, and manga-style pen and ink drawings. The writing is reminiscent of typical academic journals, however, occasionally, the narrative surprises the reader with a change in prose akin to a spy thriller. “A few weeks later, the raids of leftist stronghold Kiu Kwan Mansion and Metropole Building began at 6.40 am on 4 August. Police cordoned off Kings Road and Tong Shui Road nearby. Police landed on the rooftop of Kiu Kwan Mansion in helicopters from a British aircraft carrier.”

The book is by no means a comprehensive history of Hong Kong. In a Thousand Plateaus, Gilles Deleuze argues that the “nomad space is occupying without being counted; while striated space is counted in order to be occupied”. Seng’s Hong Kong takes place in the city, the counted space, supported by a powerful conglomerate of the financial incentive system and disciplinary mechanism. The nomad space, a.k.a. the Country Parks of Hong Kong, which accounts for over 30% of the Special Administrative Region’s territory exists outside of this wonderful book. It is a contested territory waiting to be exploited.

Writers survey the territory they wish to describe; they stitch together the seemingly disconnected elements in order to produce the narrative. These elements may include fragments of the other stories of people, places, images, rituals, and buildings derived from observations and research. The writing of this book began at the time of the 2014 Umbrella Movement, while the manuscript was completed 3 months before last year’s proposed Anti-Extradition Law was announced. The book’s arrival could not be more timely, wandering in the midst of contestation. The underlying narrative of the book, as put forth by Seng, is to argue for a space of contemplation on architecture’s and urbanism's creative potential to support an equitable and inclusive society.

A Review of Resistant City: Histories, Maps and the Architecture of Development by Eunice Seng
書評《Resistant City: Histories, Maps and the Architecture of Development》-- 維城輿圖

The Studioless Studio

The Paperless Studio

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In the 1990s Bernard Tschumi implemented, what was then, a novel idea of the "Paperless Studio'' at the scale of a school. It was an experimentation where the design was encapsulated within the computer and displayed through the screen. The paper which was a necessary sibling of the drawing instrument took a leave of absence during Tschumi’s reign. As radical of an idea as these were back then, we are confronting a much more consequential experiment of the “Studioless Studio” today. It is prompting the hard question of “Can architectural education proceed effectively as usual without the studio?” This short essay aims to reveal a few findings observed from the past ten months.

Architectural education has always been predicated on spending long hours in the studio and working amidst fellow students. The studio as it was pre COVID-19, is a locus of exchange for students and teachers. The spread of the pandemic has meant a sudden early-semester turn from face-to-face studios and classroom lectures to home learning. Although technology has eased some aspects of the transition, teachers and students have to unlearn the preconceived expectations of the studio and find new ways of adapting to the crisis.

 

Pivoting Online

As the studio pivot to remote teaching, unique challenges have arisen, especially in the foundation studios for which the students have not experienced the ‘normal’ studio culture. The studio is the embodiment of architectural learning. It is both a physical and metaphorical space. From peer-to-peer critiques to spontaneous chats and pin-ups, all contributes to the heart of learning. Unlike lectures and tutorials, studio experience cannot be completely mirrored in virtual spaces. However, an extreme situation provides a major impetus for rethinking the status quo. On the one hand, the pandemic presented a mounting challenge as no one has ever seen.  On the other hand, it is also a perfect opportunity to ‘unlearn’ the preconceived expectations of architectural education. 


Unlearning what you knew

In The Storm of Creativity, Kyna Leski asserts “Unlearning is about questioning what you think you knew”. This was the point of departure for us which triggered a set of questions: What is the studio? Why do we need it? What alternative can we provide in lieu of its absence? In the summer of 2020, amidst the pandemic, the School of Architecture offered a one week and whole day, summer architecture camp designed for high-school students with inclinations for art, design, and architecture. It offered opportunities to discover answers to our questions.

It is challenging to conduct the design studio online, although less problematic for advanced students, it is mighty difficult for beginning students. Particularly when the students have not yet been through the studio ritual. With most having no experience in drawing, design, digital modeling, or exposure to the studio, students of the programme have been learning remotely since day one.  One of the most important things we realized is the need to establish a common ground between the two sides of the computer screen. To address this, we developed various forms of downloadable templates. The use of downloadable templates becomes crucial for providing common ground between student cohorts and tutors to work together across the computer screens. The templates, whether it is foldable paper, scaled human figures, or measurable grid, is a physical connection between both parties and the starting point of the design projects.


Print your templates and see you in Zoom

Starting from an A4 print paper template, students begin their projects by folding, cutting, and scaling their design ideas. Progressively, over the course of the week, notions of scales are implemented through the incorporation of different paper thicknesses. By working with conceptual projects, such as 

‘Undulating landscape’ and ‘Warping Form’, the projects transformed steadily through drawing and model making. And examined through a system of upload and download protocols.

Although impossible to completely recreate the face to face experience. Since the pivot in February, we have learned a few ways of achieving the specific learning objectives by pairing it with suitable technologies. There are three online platforms needed. The first facilitates the means to communicate, present ideas, or show work-in-progress in a composed manner. It is a linear process made possible with the combined use of software and platforms such as Powerpoint and ZOOM. This process echoes the pin-up or final presentation. Second, the means to share the production of the studio to a wider audience. The display of work mirrors the end year exhibitions. It is a non-linear experience one can adopt by the use of social media such as Instagram, Google Photo, Flickr, or a website. The third platform is a means to work interactively through a problem or engage with at the beginning of a proposition, for instance, Mural, Miro, or Conceptboard, that resembles the weekly ‘desk-critiques’. These are platforms that offer interactivity such as sketching, sharing of case studies, or videos.

Can architectural education proceed effectively as usual without the studio? As much as we attempt to find equivalencies, the aura and atmospheric quality of the studio is difficult to recreate. Those moments of walking by an improvised pinup on the hallway, spontaneous discussion in the corner of the shop, passing observations of reviews in progress, or ad-hoc assemblies of students from different programs working beside one another in the commons. The serendipitous encounters are still irreplaceable. For now.