Harvard GSD. Photo by Alonso Obregon

In architecture school, everything takes second place to studio. It’s an unwritten rule: you do whatever it takes to have a great studio project, and if your other classes fall by the wayside, then so be it. Is this a well-placed tendency? Perhaps it depends on what we believe architecture school is here for: to make us great designers, or maybe to accurately prepare us to be a professional. In any case, should studio reign over our other studies? Is our propensity to prioritize it over everything else warranted? Or is there a bigger picture to understand?

Failure to plan is planning to fail

A core skill every architect cultivates is planning. It is this innate ability that allows us to accomplish the complexities we pursue. It is a multi-dimensional practice that taps into our creative and pragmatic mental processes. In one case, we might consider the phasing of a design’s construction; how it is executed over time on the project site. In another, we may explore the life cycle repercussions of our design decisions; how users will inhabit it over time. Planning is crucial to the success of our work. But, when it comes to school, what are we planning for during our attendance? Our future as practitioners, some might argue. Maybe it’s all about how to think well. By its very nature, school is the prerequisite to professional practice, and as such, a preparer of the student to navigate that professional realm.

The practice of putting off

Let’s examine the common goal of most students in architecture school: to become a licensed architect. Naturally, that end goal will evolve for some, but in the scheme of those who wish to see the task through, there remain characteristics that will aid in this journey, one of which is not abandoning the commitments we’ve made. When we skip class, we are building a habit of dismissal, something that will subtly grow more sinister over time. Consider your role in an office, junior designer, that’s your desired title, right? There is a lot more to do as a full-time member of a firm than design, and there will be undertakings that you will not want to do, but that will be necessary. 

...we won’t pretend that there aren’t classes where missing out to dive deep into a design study won’t end up being fruitful

In school, we are free to put off what we do not believe to be necessary. Whatever the consequences are, they fall fully on us. But, when we become part of a larger team, this freedom goes away. Our decisions now affect the group. Nevertheless, we won’t pretend that there aren’t classes where missing out to dive deep into a design study won’t end up being fruitful. Prioritization is another skill we must cultivate, and sometimes that means compromise. Life is not black and white. It is a balance.

Unseen benefits

Think of a class like professional practice or even the history or theory of architecture. We put these types of courses off as well, thinking they do not contribute to our ultimate goal of becoming an architect. We forget that a course in professional practice gives us the foundational principles for one of our ARE exams (PcM) and provides us with a picture of how a firm is managed. For those of you who want to have your own practice, the lessons presented here could prove invaluable. We also forget that history and theory help develop our vocabulary as designers; it aids us in understanding the contextual nature of our time and where we fit in a bigger picture. A sense of professional practice, history, and even theory, will make us better designers and problem solvers, it isn’t merely hours at our desks in studio that will contribute to that outcome.

Even courses outside of architecture, sometimes become the key to a profound creative insight; structures classes, electives in contemporary art perhaps, even philosophy, all things that will help congregate your mental toolbox and set you apart from the majority. In fact, one would do well to do extra work and read beyond your assigned homework to avoid becoming a carbon copy of your colleague across from you — another sheep in the pasture.

Parkinson’s Law and the manipulation of time

It’s funny how we often see those pulling all-nighters right before a big review or deadline, and right at the last hour, or even minutes before the presentations start, they are pinning up all of their work, fully completed. Why is that? All of the days leading up to this day (that everyone had known about for 12 weeks), these students have been working pretty regular hours, having deep conversations in studio, and making it on time to all of their classes. It seemed almost as if they had everything under control, and then, as the day approaches, they are scrambling to finish everything (my hand is raised, I’ve done this before).

Work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion...

There is a popular aphorism known as Parkinson’s Law: “Work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion,” it says. Essentially, it tells us that we will use up all of the available time that we have to complete a particular task. Many people have introduced their personal spins on the adage; Isaac Asimov said, “In ten hours a day you have time to fall twice as far behind your commitments as in five hours a day.” There’s also, “If you wait until the last minute, it only takes a minute to do,” and “work complicates to fill the available time.” 

Essentially, we will continue to add features, do more research, take more breaks, goof off in studio, and mull over more small details if we know we have more time to complete the work at hand. Is it not coincidental that we always tend to finish right on time? 

Good (enough), better, best

If one thing reigns true in artistic pursuits, it's that, in the eyes of the artist, a work can almost always be better; one more shade, a little bit less on the shadows, a tad more light, the color could be just slightly bluer, the list is endless. We want our work to be excellent — this is a good thing. But, at what point does that effort for quality become counterproductive? There is a fine line between half-ass and overdone (like running a render engine to 600 dpi for 17 hours). Life is not black and white. The maturity to manage our time must be developed so that we may be able to execute our work responsibly and thoughtfully attend to our expansive commitments.

We have an ingrained predisposition to overvalue the final physical manifestation of a creative venture.

We should strive to do our best work, but that can be difficult to quantify. It’s a feel kind of thing. Moreover, showing up late and overtly tired to a presentation, where there will be people who have volunteered their time to have an intelligent and engaging discussion with you, is, by all accounts, not good work. We have an ingrained predisposition to overvalue the final physical manifestation of a creative venture. Whatever it takes, we say, we must sacrifice everything for the art. That’s the motto, is it not? Art at the cost of the artist. But, selling the work to a patron (presenting your work), is part of our art, being able to address objections, and navigating peripheral disciplines (your other classes) are also essential to our craft.

The power to choose

Having the freedom to choose to work longer in studio because we want to dive deeper into an idea is different from having to skip classes, pull all-nighters, and show up exhausted to reviews because we did not manage our lives well. One of the most vital and foundational principles of strategy is putting yourself in a position where you have options. In the end, it is up to you if you’re going to skip class or not. There will be times when it might be the best decision to do so and others where it may not. 

Some questions to keep in mind when making such a decision: 

• Does the class you want to skip have the potential to make an impact on your thinking in a way you may not be able to immediately perceive? (you might see an image in your history class that unlocks an idea for your studio project, for example)

• Are you bailing on a commitment you’ve made? (In a group project, for instance, or even to an instructor in this other class. You do not want to be seen as a flake. People will remember it after school)

• Will the extra time in studio really make your project so much better? (Think of it in terms of trade-offs. The gain of staying in studio should be greater than the loss of skipping the class)

• What can you learn from this class that can set you apart from the majority? (Make your approach to class more purposeful. Maybe, consider that what you’re learning will enrich your thinking in the thing you are more interested in. If you do this, you will become unstoppable. Remember da Vinci’s decree: realize that everything connects to everything else).