There seems to be a polymathic nature to architects and designers. The modern renaissance man and woman. It’s a quality almost inseparable from our field, is it not? As I thought about this idea, I wondered if it was possible to be an architect and not have broad interests. Can one merely be into architecture?

To tackle this, I took a step back and just thought of a building. I tried to separate it from all of its characteristics. Consider a school, without this identity, what would the building be? And even if I just considered it a structure, I could not take away the engineering required for it to stand, and still, if I threw out the engineering, I could not ignore its use of materials. Let’s say I forgot all about materials. There would still be the building’s form. And countless other things. I could not contemplate architecture without thinking about people, engineering, geometry, texture, community. It appeared to me, in this thought experiment, that architecture inherently requires an interest in peripheral disciplines. From this, it made sense to me, why many people in architecture live lives of radical curiosity.

Leonardo da Vinci and The Ancient Polymaths

In fourteenth-century Florence at the height of the Italian Renaissance, artisans, painters, architects, and practitioners of many kinds knew one thing. The culture rewarded those who were able to master and mix different disciplines. This was the spirit of the times, the zeitgeist. And the polymath was celebrated. It was strange for the visionaries of this era to think of fields of study as separate and distinct. After all, it was Leonardo da Vinci himself, who said that everything is connected to everything else. This was intrinsic to his thinking. He is quite arguably the anthropomorphic symbol of interdisciplinary practice, which makes it no surprise that the young Leonardo, as an aspiring painter, was influenced by such powerhouses as Filippo Brunelleschi, who initially trained to become a goldsmith but quickly expanded his interests to architecture, mathematics, and painting.  

There was also Leon Battista Alberti, who came after Brunelleschi. He was a multi-disciplinary trailblazer in his own right, tackling painting, engineering, architecture, and writing, among countless other things. Alberti was wildly curious and loved to vigorously question all kinds of people, seeking to learn something authentic from them. Leonardo shared this quality. In his famous notebooks we can see some of his inquisitiveness at play: Get the master of arithmetic to show you how to square a triangle….Get the measurement of the sun promised me by Maestro Giovanni Francese….Ask Giannino the Bombardier about how the tower of Ferrara is walled. It goes on, but there is no doubt, Leonardo’s curiosity was rampantly sporadic.

It wasn’t until later in life that da Vinci grew to revere the work of a man named Marcus Vitruvius Pollio. Famous for The Ten Books on Architecture, Vitruvius was a man of many talents. He served in the Roman army under Caesar, where he specialized in the design and construction of artillery machines. As his life progressed, the wartime designer soon began to embrace work in architecture. Leonardo was particularly drawn to Vitruvius’ belief that “all the arts and all the world’s rules are derived from a well-composed and proportioned human body.” As the young polymath studied the work of his idol, he began to embrace and obsess over the proportions of the human body. This eventually manifested into what is today known as the Vitruvian Man and influenced his explorations in architecture and painting.

The Obsessive Inquisitor

“See how the wings, striking against the air, sustain the heavy eagle in the thin air on high. As much force is exerted by the object against the air as by the air against the object.

• Leonardo da Vinci

Leonardo began as a painter but, like his role models, soon began to take interest in other fields of study. It wasn’t only his curiosities that were astounding but also the superhuman proficiency he developed in them. He was first a painter, then an (aspiring) designer of war machines, next a pageant director, sculptor, scientist, architect, the list is mind-boggling.

He was also obsessed with studying flight. Walter Isaacson notes in his biography on the Italian: “[da Vinci] realized that the pressure a bird puts on the air is met by an equal and opposite pressure that the air puts on the bird.” This was a discovery that, two hundred years later, Isaac Newton would refine in his third law of motion: To every action there is always opposed an equal reaction. The ancient maestro was indeed ahead of his time.

It was his unbridled inquisitiveness that enabled Leonardo to move so far in so many disciplines. Yes, he did have natural inclinations toward the things he pursued, but he was obsessively diligent in cultivating those inherent proclivities. He could not imagine a life doing only one thing. It didn’t make sense to him. This revolutionary individual sincerely believed that all things were connected and he legitimately strived to learn everything.

The Modern Polymath

I think those of us in architecture also have an intrinsic quality to be ridiculously curious. Of course, there is a bias here, but the architect, to me, quite closely resembles the modern polymath. I am not talking about architects who have hobbies in other disciplines but more so those who have incorporated those extra areas of study as an essential part of their work. If I think of this on a personal level, in most “architectural circles,” I’ve observed there are always certain types of people:

• The Technologist - that person who is obsessed with tech, be it BIM, 3D printing, coding. This person is the go-to for all things technology. And they are ridiculously good at it. You can usually find this individual rebuilding the interface on whatever software your office uses while also making keystroke shortcuts for every command known to man.

• The Fabricator - those individuals who also happen to be extraordinary craftspeople. Woodworking, metalwork, you name it, this person is always making something for someone, and it always looks like a masterpiece. They enjoy wearing leather boots, flannel shirts, and typically have cool pocket knives.

• The Theorist/Historian - the well-read among the group, always able to find the deeper meaning in the work of the team. Somehow, those in this category are always able to find the perfect historical reference or precedent to study. You’ll usually find this person in a dark colored cardigan and a book under their arm. Sometimes they wear glasses.

• The Artist - the one who is a master at drawing, painting, sculpting. Different from the Fabricator but probably could overlap. This person usually dresses like they attend Cal-Arts.

It’s a beautiful conglomeration of like-minded people with wide-ranging interests. What is particularly satisfying is the fact that all of these “characters” practice in the same field. For each one of these types (there are definitely more, this is my arbitrary interpretation of what I’ve seen personally) there is a direct relationship and application they introduce to architecture. This synthesis is the embodiment of the inherent values in architecture throughout history, both as a profession and a personal pursuit of practice.

A Universal Practice

I’m sure we can say that all fields have individuals of wide-ranging interest, but I still believe there is still something exclusive to architecture. The relevance and immediacy of how we incorporate those passions into our work seem uniquely executed within the field. It is something that enriches the quality of the products we create, the spaces we inhabit, and the concepts we develop. It is a universal practice that seeks to combine and compose authentic creations to further our love and devotion to the built environment.