Reflections, Part IV

Moving forward.

There were other lessons beyond my first one. After my year and a half in CORE (I lost a half year to an impossibly broken leg), I was thrown into architecture school proper. My first semester of architecture held for me a challenge I had not been ready for; the challenge was to power through a semester of poor teaching. Please understand, I hold a deep respect for every professor I have had, and at the time, I only blamed myself for the semester I had. But over time, looking back, while I shoulder some of the fault, many mistakes were made in that studio, and they were not all at the hands of the students.

One of my earliest memories were of a common phrase that were thrown around in my second year towards many, many students. “You may want to consider changing majors,” or some derivative of the phrase. Quick reminder, this came right after we nearly killed ourselves for the ability to just get into the program, with a class of 80 beating out hundreds of other students who applied to get into the same program. We thought we were in the clear. We were in, now we learn how to architecture, right? Well, apparently we were wrong. This is one of the more controversial things about architecture education. It’s this attitude that is put off when you first start, that you may not be good enough, given at the first sign of weakness. In some ways, its the responsibility of the professor to do so, so that if the student is really having a rough time and they would be better off elsewhere. But maybe, we could refrain from jumping there at the first bad drawing or messy model. In my studio in particular, this was said to at least five of us, our of sixteen. Of those that this was said to, none dropped and graduated four years later. This leads me back to my original topic, that the professor, regardless of who they are personally, make mistakes and have a negative effect on students. This is a first hand account.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I understand that teaching us was probably a monumental task, for which few could really be prepared for. It’s a hard job and I do not believe I have the remedy or the answer to this. This is, again, only a reflection.

The main project was a boathouse for the Des Moines rowing club. That, for those who aren’t familiar with project types and such, was a big project for a first semester. A full facility, with a lot of needs that are very specific. Since then, the project’s severity has been lessened. Anyways, during this time, we were doing all hand drawings with a teacher whose specialty was hand rendering and color, so I thought, great, I’m going to be getting well schooled with this prof.

However, following through the process, a lot went wrong. For one, I was never guided through the refinement of the boathouse. I was told yes or no. The critical thinking was nowhere to be found. You see, second year students tend to have ideas that architecture is “about” something. Usually its geometry, sustainability, or art. I was a sustainability guy. I thought if I could figure out how to take this building off the grid, it would guide the design and I would have a responsible, good building. But here’s the thing, at second year, we don’t know what it means to be sustainable. In fact, I’m pretty sure there are few architects in the world today practicing who really know what it means to be sustainable, but more on that one later. So I presented an idea of building built around a pico-hydro set up to generate its own power and heat for the building and tie my connection to the water beyond just placement on the site.

So first we were told to come up with sketch models. The prof would give us a number of models to do and bring them, and we would talk about them. When I was confronted about mine, I had no reasoning to them, no concept. They were formal, and weird at that, but I thought they were fun looking. My discussion went along the lines of “Do this one, not these.” Okay, I can do that. And that’s the way it was for several desk crits about the sketch models. Warning sign #1, the prof TOLD me. No real discussion, no real moments of discovery or exploration.

Next came the refinement. The architectural moves, as it were. From space layout to building shape to materiality. And following how the design process had followed so far, I thought I would be railroaded a little more. But no, now when I asked, I got the response “You’re the architect.” And that was it. For the following several weeks, I had no other guidance. It might have been because this professor was busy with their favorites, but I think there was more to it. Warning sign #2, the prof, after railroading me, left me alone and told me I had to come up with everything. No precedent ideas, no theory ideas, nothing. Never, for the rest of my time, was this ever the case.

Finally, the thing that sent me into a depressing spiral that almost had me drop out. For the weeks leading up to final review, I was told to redo my hand drawn elevations. Forget plans, forget sections, forget the model, forget perspectives. For weeks, all the professor had me work on was the elevations. Over and over again, hand drawn and hand rendered. Each time they would be picked up, looked at, and I was told how they were wrong. Line weights, shadows, shapes, color. Then, after two weeks, I was determined to move on as everyone else had already been doing models and other important drawings. For one weekend, I stayed in studio and did these drawings. I did not leave to go to my dorm. I left to eat and go to the bathroom. And these elevations, let me tell you, were beautiful. I was damn proud of them, and in fact, did a site plan while I was there. The professor comes in, looks through them, and asks if I even came in on the weekend because it looked like I had made no progress. Warning #3, the prof disregarded all work done, and subsequently made me feel like a failure. I don’t know if it was an attempt to break my spirit or to make some other point. But this was three strikes and I was out. I ran like a bull through the rest of the project, no finesse, no inspired movements. I got it done and done. I wasn’t happy with it, and neither were my reviewers. Except of course, for the elevations. It was funny to have my prof critique them again at the reviews and then to have one of the reviewers come back saying that the elevations were beautiful in a way, and actually described something about the architecture that was missing from the rest of the project, that there should have been more of this. Ha, it still makes me laugh.

Here’s the real thing I think on when I look back on this. It wasn’t until the next semester, when I approached my new studio professor in a meeting and said I was thinking of dropping and she told me not to, that I knew what I was doing, that I resolved to actually become an architect. My initial professor, because of the attitude towards the work and the students, had affected me to the point where I was ready to drop my dream of doing what I knew I wanted to do. And where I persevered, there were other talents who did drop, and I was sad to see them go. In architectural education, there are times when it is necessary to pull people aside and to tell them they need to focus elsewhere. But this professor made me think, through their attitude and studio etiquette, so negatively of my abilities and gave me such a false perception on the practice of design, that I was ready to leave it completely.

Now maybe there are some people who think I should have dropped out or have some other negative feelings towards me. I have since learned to ignore that. The important point is that in the early stages of architectural education, I believe that when a professor has a negative affect on the students, the profession loses valuable commodities. It’s a hard thing, to think a professor is wrong, incapable, or bad. But it happens. Students need to be aware that this does happen. It’s a fine line though. This is not to give a student the excuse. The moment a student says “Well that prof just didn’t like me, I’m still great” is the moment they need to have a talk about where they are focusing their efforts. It falls to the university then, to really be aware of the studio culture and practice that is occurring, and catch these professors and get them to stop. I have had so many good professors, that when I look back, I can pick out the bad ones. And if I can, I think the university can too. It’s all a matter of listening and watching, paying attention to the course reviews and the work being produced. I understand there are challenges to running the department, but if we don’t expect the best out of the people tending the new crop, it’s likely to rot.

To the best of my knowledge, this professor is still teaching at my university in my department.

Things are getting deeper and more personal than I thought they would. Stay tuned, more to come.