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#ModelMakers: Kash Awosika

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Today’s edition of #ModelMakers features Kash Awosika, a B.Arch student at Drexel University. Scroll to learn more about Kash and her work:

Name:Kash Awosika

School: Drexel University 

Degree Program: 2+4 Bachelors of Architecture

Year in School: 5th Year 

Describe Your Design Style:I don’t have a definitive design style at the moment. As I’m still in school and finding my own tunes of design, I tend to be explorative in what I produce. To me, the best part about designing is the ability to engage with different forms of expression and allow for the concept or meaning to take hold and develop on its own. Though my style often adapts to the nature of each project, my design process typically remains the same. Starting with a basis of research – I find it to be important to have a solid foundation and understanding of a project’s context prior to initial design. From there, I want to understand the programming and it’s the ultimate relation to the site. Followed by Precedent studies, sketching, mass studies, sharing work for feedback and of course –
iterating on the design.

Share a Project You’re Proud of: The Grain | 4th Year Studio

Describe The Grain: The Grain is a timber hybrid high-rise building inspired by the texture and symbolism of wood. It serves as a multi-purpose educational and residential hub in Hudson Yards, NYC. Anchored in nature and growth, its design draws from the organic patterns of wood grain and the surrounding urban fabric—blending mass timber, steel, and concrete into a layered form. Like tree rings, its spatial circulation moves from focused learning at the core to collaborative, flexible spaces at the edges.

What Inspires You? Celebrating the small wins! It’s important to remember small accomplishments that continually push you towards a goal. The reminder of what you’ve done along the way truly goes a long way! As I progress in my education, realizing that I suddenly understand certain topics or can contribute towards a design initiative is quite exciting! Every moment in school, from critiques, group collaboration, self-study and learning to lean into my goals as a designer begins to come together. Architecture can take time, but the process of learning and applying that knowledge is truly inspiring.

What’s Your Student Superpower? Asking Questions! The greatest superpower that anyone can have is the ability to ask questions. In my time as a student and emerging professional, I’ve found this tip passed on to me by some important people in my life, to be quite impactful. Questions often
lead to answers, but it’s the process of uncovering those answers that can alter the way you approach design. Architecture is a profession that encourages communication, collaboration, and the ability to adapt. It is also a profession that often requires some form of mentorship or sharing of knowledge. Understanding what is being shared leads to having a foundation built upon Architectural comprehension.

Any hobbies? Photography!

You can find Kash on Instagram: @little_kash

In Conversation with JR Jacobs: Decarbonization, Sustainability & Making a Change

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Earlier this summer, Study Architecture Summer Intern Maya Fenyk interviewed ​​JR Jacobs, a high school senior with a passion for sustainable architecture. Their conversation covered everything from  JR’s interest in architecture and his involvement with the Stanford Building Decarbonization Learning Accelerator (BDLA) to his process for creating digestible content about sustainable design strategies for high school students. Scroll down to read JR’s insights and words of wisdom!

1. Can you tell us a little about yourself and what drew you to architecture as a field?

My name is JR Jacobs, and I’m a senior at Lick-Wilmerding High School in San Francisco, where I’ve been studying architecture with my teacher and mentor Goranka Poljak-Hoy since freshman year. I really like architecture because it allows me to combine two things that I’ve loved since I was a kid: designing and building. I’m drawn to architecture because it combines creativity, problem-solving, and the possibility of making a real impact on people’s lives. When I design a space, I’m not just thinking about how it looks; I’m also thinking about how people will experience the space and how it connects with its surroundings. It’s the same mindset that I bring to other parts of my life, whether it’s digital music production, furniture and product design, or landscape and interiors. For me, design is always about finding ways to make people’s lives better.

2. How did you first get involved with the Building Decarbonization Learning Accelerator (BDLA)?

I’ve cared about climate change since I was a kid. In 6th grade, I spent an entire semester designing and building a scale model of a sustainable house. That project was when I first learned how much building construction and operations contribute to global carbon emissions. It was also the first time that I saw how architecture could be a huge part in helping to solve climate change. The Stanford BDLA is a non-profit that helps college students in architecture, engineering, and construction management learn about building decarbonization. I thought that the free teaching resources on the BDLA website could also help high school students learn about important aspects of architecture, such as decarbonization and equal access to clean tech. So, I started reaching out to high school architecture teachers across the country to share the BDLA’s resources. Later, I reached out to the BDLA and told them about the emails I’d been sending to architecture teachers, and I asked if I could adapt some of their presentations into videos geared toward high school architecture students. The idea was to make complex sustainability topics more accessible to younger students. They said yes, and since then, I’ve been lucky to work with mentors like Peter Rumsey, Dr. Anthony Kinslow II, and Lindsay Franta. 

3. Your video on Environmental Justice and Equitable Decarbonization touches on powerful themes. What inspired you to focus on that topic?

At first, I didn’t fully understand how much climate change and the built environment affect some communities more than others. Then, I found a Stanford BDLA presentation created by Dr. Anthony Kinslow II that connected the dots between systemic racism, environmental injustice, and building decarbonization. Around the same time, I was volunteering at Second Harvest of Silicon Valley food bank, which provides healthy food to community members in need. I knew that Second Harvest was in the process of constructing a large new food distribution facility, and I started thinking about the connections between that building project and Dr. Kinslow’s BDLA presentation. Making this video just felt like the perfect way to combine my passion for design with my commitment to helping others. 

4. Could you walk us through your process in creating that video—from research and scripting to design and delivery?

I started by studying Dr. Kinslow’s BDLA presentation on the topic. My goal was to adapt it for high school students by focusing on the essential ideas. I watched other videos about environmental racism, redlining, energy burden, and potential solutions, and then I organized everything into an 11-page script. Then I built a 77-slide Keynote presentation with visuals that supported the ideas in the script. I set up a tiny recording studio in my home closet and recorded the voiceover narration. Then I edited the whole thing using iMovie into a 23-minute video. Once the video was done, the BDLA posted it on their website and YouTube channel. I emailed the video to over 50 high school architecture teachers, organizations, and people featured in the video.

5. You also created “Architectural Elements of a Decarbonized Building” for high school students. What was your approach to making these concepts accessible to a younger audience?

My goal was to focus on the essential concepts. The original BDLA presentation that I adapted was pretty technical, which is great for college students but can be overwhelming for high schoolers seeing the ideas for the first time. I wanted high school architecture students to learn about sustainable design strategies earlier in their architectural journeys so that they can apply them to their own projects. So I broke the original BDLA content down into 38 slides covering core design concepts like building orientation, high-performance glazing, shading, and thermal mass. I used simple visuals so the concepts would be easier to understand. The final video is about 9 minutes long.

6. What role do you think education plays in promoting sustainable architecture?

I think education plays a huge role. The buildings we design in the future will have a major impact on Earth’s climate. If we can teach future architects, engineers, and builders about decarbonization today, then those concepts will be included in the buildings of tomorrow. I hope that one day, people will just expect every new building to be carbon neutral. That’s why I’m so excited about bringing the BDLA’s resources to high school architecture programs and students.

7. How do you plan to incorporate the intersection of architecture and climate justice in your future studies?

Before I started volunteering for the BDLA, I didn’t fully understand the social impact side of architecture and design. The way we design can help or hurt people and communities, especially communities that are dealing with historical inequities. Now, equity and sustainability are part of how I think about design, no matter what I’m working on, whether it’s a building, an interior, a product, or a piece of furniture. To me, they’re just part of good design.

8. Has your experience with BDLA or creating these videos changed the way you think about your future in architecture?

Definitely. Once you see how much buildings contribute to climate change, and how building design can create, reinforce, or help reduce social inequities, you can’t unsee it. I know that whatever path I take in architecture or design, I’ll be looking for ways that my projects can have a positive environmental and social impact.

9. What advice would you give to students who want to explore sustainability and social justice through architecture?

If you want to learn about sustainability, I’d start by watching “Architectural Elements of a Decarbonized Building.” For social justice, I’d watch “Environmental Justice and Equitable Decarbonization.” Both videos are on YouTube and the BDLA website. Explore the other BDLA videos and dig deeper into the topics that interest you the most. Also check out groups like NOMA Project Pipeline and the Architectural Foundation of San Francisco. If you’re really interested, look into the pre-college summer programs on Study Architecture. Then find a way to share what you’ve learned. Start a club, take on a project, make a video, or give a presentation at your school. Once you start exploring these topics, you’ll find a lot of people out there who really care about these issues and want to help you make a difference.

You can connect with JR on LinkedIn: JR Jacobs

#ModelMakers: Julia Barreiros do Amaral

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Introducing #ModelMakers — a new series highlighting architecture students across the world! Today, we’re featuring Julia Barreiros do Amaral, a B.Arch student at Florida Atlantic University. Scroll to learn more about Julia and her work:

Name: Julia Barreiros do Amaral 

School: Florida Atlantic University 

Degree Program: 5 year Bachelors in Architecture  

Year in School: 4th Year 

Describe Your Design Style: Neo-futuristic Architecture 

Share a Project You’re Proud of: The Flowline Gallery 

What Inspires You?  I’m inspired by how design has the power to shape not only spaces but also the way people think, feel, and connect with the world around them. A well-designed environment can challenge perceptions, spark curiosity, and create meaningful experiences that stay with someone long after they’ve left the space. It’s that potential for design to change minds and elevate everyday moments that drives me to keep pushing my creativity forward.   

What’s Your Student Superpower?  My student superpower is resilience. No matter how many challenges, setbacks, or long nights come my way, I stay committed to reaching my goals. In architecture school, there are moments where things don’t go as planned. Models break, ideas get critiqued, deadlines stack up—but I’ve learned to adapt, problem-solve, and keep moving forward. That persistence not only helps me finish what I start, but it also pushes me to grow stronger with each project. 

Describe The Flowline Gallery:

Nestled in Hugh Taylor Birch Park, the Flowline Gallery blends seamlessly with the natural landscape, drawing inspiration from the fluid forms of the ancient Banyan tree. Designed as an immersive experience, the gallery dissolves boundaries between interior and exterior, guiding visitors through curved, light-filled spaces that echo the rhythms of nature. Architecture, art, and ecology converge as pathways mimic meandering roots, and clerestories and skylights invite daylight to animate the space. Rather than imposing on the site, the design responds to its contours, weaving around existing vegetation and framing views of the surrounding forest. Natural light becomes a key spatial element, creating dynamic atmospheres that shift throughout the day. The gallery invites reflection and connection, proposing a model for architecture that is responsive, poetic, and deeply contextual. Flowline is not just a building—it’s a living, breathing continuation of the landscape, where design flows in harmony with nature.

Follow Julia to see more of her work: @Archidesignsbyju

What Is The Biggest Lesson You Learned In Architecture School?

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In our last article, “What’s One Thing You Wish You Knew Before Architecture School?”, 25 architecture students shared the advice they wish someone had given them before they started their programs. They gave honest insights about expectations, challenges, and surprises. But what about the lessons that come after you’ve begun the journey?

In this follow-up, we asked the same group of students: “What’s the biggest lesson you’ve learned from architecture school?” Their reflections go beyond drafting and deadlines, as they speak to personal growth, resilience, creative confidence, and the evolving ways students think about design and themselves. Across the 26 responses, eight core lessons emerged—shared themes that reflect the challenges, growth, and transformation students experience throughout architecture school. Whether you’re just starting out or already deep in your journey, these lessons offer a look at the learning that happens when you step into (and stick with) architecture school.

Note: Responses have been slightly modified for clarity and length.

Some of the skills mentioned that our respondents learned in architecture school are unique to the field. However, their intensity and integration into the design process make them especially transferable. These lessons don’t just shape you as a future architect; they prepare you for almost any path you take and equip you with tools that are just as valuable in life as they are in practice. This is mostly due to the fact that:

1. Architecture is not a solitary discipline, it’s shared, social, and deeply interconnected.

[Architecture school’s] value goes far beyond architecture itself. It doesn’t just prepare you for one specific role—it gives you a way of thinking, a vision you can apply across many professions. If you’ve developed the capacity to collaborate and stay open to working with others, the skills and mindset you gain in architecture school can carry over into a wide range of fields.

—Sam Sabzevari, Toronto Metropolitan University, Class of 2024

Architecture isn’t just about designing pretty buildings; it’s about telling stories, reflecting culture, and shaping people’s lives. I realized that architecture is much more than just form and aesthetics, every design decision carries meaning and responsibility. That shift in perspective made me more thoughtful and intentional in my work knowing the social impact it can have.

—Sara Suliman, American University of Sharjah, Class of 2024

The importance of designing critically and creatively simultaneously. Architectural projects are not solely about making things look beautiful; it’s about solving complex problems with intention, empathy, and adaptability. I also learned the value of iteration; great ideas rarely arrive fully formed, and it is often part of the process of talking with your professors, friends, and peers that leads to innovation.

—Matthew Tepper, University of Virginia, Class of 2024.

Architecture is expansive, interdisciplinary, and all-encompassing. I entered school thinking that architecture is just about buildings and a way to connect the arts and STEM, and I left school knowing that architecture touches all aspects of our lives. Architecture is political and personal; we are implicated within it from the homes we live in to the cities and structures that make up our world. It is poetic and philosophical; it is our bridge between the past and the future, and it helps us understand our relationship with the world and how we continually engage with the environments we are embedded in. It is culture and creativity, narrative power, and most importantly, architecture is activism. It has the capacity to harm or heal, to repair and reconstruct a better world. In the current climatic condition and political state, we are at the crossroads of a future of uncertainty and possibility, and architecture is our tool for change and will have a vital part in moving us towards a future worth fighting for.

Since graduating and starting to work in the profession, I keep finding myself returning to this quote by Dr. Caroline Leaf: “Your purpose is not the thing you do. It is the thing that happens to others when you do what you do.” Our purpose and responsibility as architects goes beyond the designs we make; we have a crucial role in ensuring the health, equity, and well-being of our world and are tasked with building the structures necessary to uphold and sustain these values of good, for each other and for the future that will come after we are gone.

—Catherine Chattergoon, Pratt Institute, Class of 2024


Because architecture is not a solitary discipline, collaboration isn’t just encouraged—it’s essential. As you can see, many of our respondents agree that…

2. Architecture is a collaborative practice, built on relationships, dialogue, and shared vision.

The value of collaboration and feedback. Working with peers and receiving constructive criticism helped me develop my design skills and think critically about my work. I also learned to appreciate the importance of sustainability and social responsibility in architectural design.

—Yaimi L. Cartagena Santiago, Pontifical Catholic University of Puerto Rico, Class of 2024.

Honestly, it’s how essential it is to build relationships—with professors, visiting architects, and especially with your classmates. Some of my closest friendships were formed through long nights in studio, where we not only pushed each other creatively but also supported each other through the inevitable ups and downs. I’m incredibly grateful that, even now after graduating and working in different cities, we still find time to come together, catch up on life, and bond over the experiences we shared in school and the new ones we’re each creating in our professional and personal lives. Seeing how differently people think and approach design has been just as valuable as any technical skill I’ve learned. It’s a reminder that great design rarely happens in isolation; it grows from conversations, collaboration, and a genuine curiosity about how others see the world.

—Dillon Patel, North Carolina State University, Class of 2024

A good design takes time, and is rarely a solo effort. I used to spend hours just thinking about my design, visualizing how I wanted it to look, and how I could accomplish it. The most important step, and the biggest lesson that I have learned to remain consistent even in architecture firms, is that once I’ve built my vision/design, I always take it to someone else to review, whether it be my professor, boss, coworker, colleague, family member, classmates, friends, etc. [They]will be able to see a project through a different lens and point out any flaws where it could be better. Being able to listen to critiques and understanding others’ feedback is, in my opinion, what makes a great architect.

—Mason Ramsey, Marywood University, Class of 2024.

Talent alone will not take you to the endzone. Architecture is about much more. You need to be able to network and become comfortable with being uncomfortable. You need to sharpen your social skills and get over your fear of public speaking. I would say it’s not important, but necessary if you want to get anywhere with this career path.

—Jesus Guillermo Macias Franco, California College of the Arts, Class of 2023

How to work with people.

I understand that many students who are passionate about architecture and design often carry a beautiful, ideal world in their minds. Everyone has brilliant ideas and unique design visions. But once I entered architecture school, I realized that design is never a solitary act—especially in architecture.

From studio critiques and team projects to future collaborations in the professional world, architecture is built upon communication and teamwork. You can’t avoid dialogue or resist collaboration. Design is a language—and without strong communication skills and a willingness to engage with others, even the best ideas remain incomplete.

This is what architecture school taught me most:

Talk to people—because only through communication can your design truly come to life.

—Kai Chen, University of Pennsylvania, Class 2025

Design is not for the designer. Sure, it’s easy to get wrapped up in your own ideas and preferences when designing theoretical studio projects, but it’s important to remember that designers are almost always designing for someone else. We should never lose sight of how our designs impact those who use them —no matter the scale.

—Luke Murray, Mississippi State University, Class of 2024.


And with all that collaboration comes critique. In architecture school, feedback is constant—sometimes encouraging, sometimes tough, but always part of the process. So the best advice to grow (and stay sane) is…

3. Learn to embrace critique, but remain confident and trust yourself along the way.

Critique is where you grow, not where you shrink. In such a beautiful major where each one turns their own ideas into a unique project of their own, opinions arise. And this is where it is important, as architecture students, to learn to accept the critique and take it as an opportunity to question how other architects and peers perceive things. It expands your ideas and therefore your creativity. Architecture has certainly strengthened my personality and turned me into someone confident who is apt to defend their ideas and the value behind them.

—Angela Hanna, Holy Spirit University of Kaslik, Class of 2024

Listening to yourself is just as important as being open to feedback. If you believe in your idea and know it’s strong, stick with it, but stay open. If you receive challenging criticism, it doesn’t mean the project is dead. In fact, sometimes a lot of critique is a good sign. It means your ideas are worth talking about, or there’s a lot of potential. Ask yourself why the feedback landed that way, and refine your work through that lens.

At the same time, don’t hold on too tightly. Some of your best ideas will grow from the pieces of earlier ones you were willing to let go. Trust your gut, make the project make sense, and the rest will follow.

Also: don’t lose sleep over renderings.

—Steven Fallon, Boston Architectural College, Class of 2024 (M.Arch)

Embracing constructive criticism will take you SO far. The more experience you have receiving constructive criticism, the more you will be better able to filter out what is helpful and productive, and what is better applied to other projects. Moreover, the feedback you receive for one project should be applied to all of your projects; that is how you best grow in your practice of architecture.

—Elyssa Hines, Washington University in St. Louis, Class of 2027.

People will have opinions on your work (both good and bad). What one professor hates, another may love. Be confident in your designs regardless of what others think.

—Bailey Berdan, Lawrence Technological University, Class of 2022

The importance of confidence. If you don’t believe in your own idea or design, no one else will. Confidence allows you to present your work with clarity and conviction, and it helps you communicate your design to a wider audience. It’s not just about what you design, but how you stand behind it.

—Anushka Naik, NYIT, MS.AUD Class of 2024.

Failure is part of the process—and often the most valuable part. Projects grow through trial and error, and feedback (even tough criticism) helps you improve. Also, surrounding yourself with motivated, supportive friends from day one makes the stressful moments manageable and the successes more rewarding.

—Louis Y. Sepúlveda-Homs, Pontifical Catholic University of Puerto Rico, Class of 2025.

To trust yourself and trust the process. College is a long process, and you won’t understand the big picture until you realize you’re graduating and well on your way to becoming an architect

—Nick Biser, Marywood University, Class of 2024.


Though I am sure you want to implement advice and grow from the critiques you are given, keep in mind that progress in architecture school doesn’t happen overnight…

4. Growth takes time, so stay patient and committed.

Adopting new skills requires patience and concentration. I knew how to draw before starting my graduate program. However, architecture school required a more advanced level of technicality in representation. I had to master new software, history, and theory by engaging in my course assignments with consistent effort. My hand drawing and digital drafting has improved dramatically because of the work that went into achieving that proficiency.

—Daniel Icaza-Milson, University of Texas, Austin, Master of Architecture 2025

Each level in architecture taught me to adapt, evolve, and shape a better version of myself—just like our designs, we’re constantly a work in progress.

—Rachana Charate, RV College of Architecture, Class of 2023 (M. Arch Urban Design)


You’ll grow faster if you remember to …

5. Stay curious! Ask questions and keep learning.

Ask why about all the decisions you make. This will truly help the design and thought process during the design.

—Henry Li, Savannah College of Art and Design, Class of 2024.

You are not finished learning after you graduate! You must be a student for life, and continue to absorb and respond to new information every day. Keep building on your knowledge and stay in touch with your inner student.

—Sabrina Innamorato, New York Institute of Technology, Class of 2024 (M.Arch)


Beyond personal development and the broader application of skills, you also learn about core values of the discipline, and that includes the fact that…

6. Architecture begins with empathy and introspection.

Architecture must be empathetic. You don’t design for yourself, but for the people who will inhabit those spaces. Every line, every decision, should respond to their needs, contexts, and aspirations. It’s not enough for a project to look good—it has to feel right, function well, and genuinely improve the lives of those who use it. Architecture transforms lives, and for that reason, it must be responsible, sensitive, and accessible.

—Sebastián André Colón López, Pontifical Catholic University of Puerto Rico, Class of 2024.

Architecture school doesn’t really teach you about architecture; it teaches you introspection. To think critically, to approach problems with care, and to find creative, thoughtful solutions.

It teaches you empathy—for the earth and the places we build on and extract from. It teaches you empathy for yourself, for your limits and mental health, and for others—your peers, who become your closest allies and lifelong friends.

It teaches you discipline—the ability to deliver on time, to hold yourself accountable, and to communicate your ideas with clarity and conviction.

To study architecture is to cultivate introspection, a quiet but essential skill that shapes not only the work you do, but also the architect you become.

—Daniel Wong, University of Toronto, Class of 2024


Lastly, but certainly not least, as a field that contains so many multitudes, it is essential to…

7. Appreciate the shades of gray. 

Design is never about finding the “right” answer. It is all about the process of exploring, questioning, and constantly improving. You must maintain an open mind and be self-critical of your design, always asking yourself why you are making certain choices. I also learnt that just because a project has a deadline does not mean it is finished; there is always room to go back and improve it, but you also need to know when to let go. That kind of mindset changed the way I approach design and life in general.

—Razan Almajid, American University of Sharjah, Class of 2024

When it comes to things, especially design, there is no such thing as absolute “correct” or “wrong.” These judgments can only be made within a relative framework. At my school, about 60 students design projects [based] on the exact same site each semester in studio. Yet each student approaches the project with entirely different concepts and scales. By the end of the term, there are 60 completely different architectural proposals gathered on the same site.

The criteria for judging whether these designs are “correct” or “wrong” as architecture are nothing more than relative measures defined within the framework of the studio. What is considered correct within the context of the studio does not necessarily align with what is correct in the context of real-world architecture. In that sense, engaging in discussions about what is ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ within a relative framework turned out to be a valuable lesson.

—Shun Sasaki, Southern California Institute of Architecture, Graduated in 2024

Be precise. Not just in drawings or models, but in language and intent. It’s easy to hide behind complexity or visual tricks, but architecture school taught me that the hardest thing is to be direct—clear in what you’re saying, why you’re saying it, and how it’s being read. That kind of clarity is what actually gives the work weight.

—Anonymous


The journey through architecture school is clearly more than an exercise in mastering technical skills; it’s a profound period of personal and professional transformation. As the reflections from these 26 students reveal, the lessons learned extend far beyond drafting tables and deadlines, shaping not only future architects but also well-rounded individuals prepared for a diverse range of paths.


Ultimately, the skills and mindset gained are universally transferable, equipping graduates with tools that are as valuable in life as they are in practice. Whether it’s the ability to work effectively in teams, articulate complex ideas with precision, adapt to feedback, or approach challenges with a curious and empathetic lens, the education cultivates a unique readiness for an ever-evolving world. Architecture school, it turns out, is not just about building structures; it’s about building character, vision, and the capacity to contribute meaningfully to any endeavor.

What Is One Thing You Wish You Knew Before Architecture School?

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Whether you are a middle schooler learning about different careers, a high schooler gearing up for university applications, a rising college freshman ready to start your program in the fall, or an aspiring architecture student looking toward your next steps— you are surely full of questions. What will architecture school really be like? What should I expect…will it match my expectations? What challenges will I face? What moments will make it all worth it? And these questions are just the tip of the iceberg…

To demystify your journey and better prepare you for whatever educational milestone you are ready to embark on, we asked 26 current architecture students and recent graduates a question we hope encapsulates the core of your questioning: What is one thing you wish you knew before architecture school?

We’ve summarized their answers into 12 core themes below. No matter where you are in your architectural journey, we hope these reflections offer insight, reassurance, and a glimpse into what lies ahead.

Note: The responses have been slightly modified for clarity and length.

1. Architecture school may indeed test your patience more than your creativity, but if you embrace the chaos the rewards are boundless.


Creativity is 10% of it, the other 90% is perseverance, patience, and problem-solving. If I ever thought I was a patient person by nature, studying architecture certainly had me re-question that notion. It takes so many ideas, concepts, sketches, drafts, models, etc. before you find the right approach to a project. Architecture is about many answers, many opinions, all of which are beautifully different. This makes us stand out and distinguishes us from other architects, but it’s also what shows how subjective it all is at the same time. This subjectivity is (most of the time) frustrating, especially when you are presenting your project to a board of juries, but it is also something that expands your vision. —Angela Hanna, Holy Spirit University of Kaslik, Class of 2024.


How time-consuming and frustrating it can be. I would spend all day/night meticulously constructing a model that was due the next morning, and while designing these models (as many architecture students can attest) agitation was a very common emotion. There were times when my physical model completely fell apart, when professors told me to redo a model I spent days building, or when Revit did not want to cooperate– meaning I had to spend hours watching YouTube videos on how to fix the issue. Though, as you can see, architecture school can be stressful, I also wish someone had told me how creative and fun it would be. Ultimately, if you have an interest in the concept of how buildings are formed/constructed, and you have a lot of patience, architecture school is definitely your path.
—Mason Ramsey, Marywood University, Class of 2024.


Architecture school is basically a video game—each level is harder than the last and comes with new challenges to unlock. You’ll fail, restart, and rage-quit in your head—but the wins? They feel epic.
—Rachana Charate, RV College of Architecture, Class of 2023.

Despite the frustrations, perseverance is key! Which brings us to:

2. You will get out of it what you put into it.


The first semester of architecture school is like a shock to the system. It’s an intense workload. You’re learning the basics of design, architectural history, taking your Gen Ed courses, and you’re expected to begin designing, all while learning the various software necessary to complete your design drawings. It can be overwhelming, but if you put in the time and effort, you will succeed. You may have to say no to dinner with friends or stay up late to get your work done (I am one of the few architecture students that is vehemently against pulling all nighters), you will have to sacrifice, but the harder you work and the more dedicated you are, the more worth it it will be. —Sabrina Innamorato, New York Institute of Technology, Class of 2024 (M.Arch).

But remember, school is about more than just getting through the academic work. An important part of success is how you interact with the field beyond the classroom. You will have to…

3. Build more than models, relationships matter.


Focus on networking. Try to get teaching assistant positions and build better relationships with faculty and classmates. I attended a small college, and it was easy to network. However, I could have built more bridges with my professors. Later in my degree, I learned that many of my classmates had been employed by faculty. Those opportunities could have been mine as well, but they weren’t because I did not put work into those relationships early on. —Jesus Guillermo Macias Franco, California College of the Arts, Class of 2023.


We’re past the era of becoming an architect in the classical sense. When you go to architecture school, you’re exposed to the long history of the field, and you may start forming this image of the architect as a heroic, solitary figure. But that model no longer reflects the reality of the profession. Architecture today is fundamentally about collaboration, teamwork, and putting your ego aside to work meaningfully with others. You need to work on yourself just as much as you work with your team and surroundings. Building those relationships and connections is essential—especially once you step out into the profession after graduation. —Sam Sabzevari, Toronto Metropolitan University, Class of 2024.

Regardless of the many pieces of advice you will receive in this article, keep in mind that no one experience is the same. Be aware that…

4. Architecture school isn’t a straight line, it’s a messy, evolving journey. Stay open-minded, embrace uncertainty, and let your curiosity guide you.


Every stage of the design and learning journey is unique. Embrace the complexity of the profession, stay curious about emerging mediums and evolving tools, and continue exploring where your interests and strengths lie.
—Matthew Tepper, University of Virginia, Class of 2024.


Go in with more of an open mind. When I first started school, I thought I would be using my computer, rendering fancy buildings, and designing skyscrapers from Day 1. School is a much different and more nuanced process that can take a lot of students by surprise.
—Nick Biser, Marywood University, Class of 2024.


The design process is rarely linear. For each moment you find yourself satisfied with your process and the results, there will likely be another where you question your ideas and approach. For me, the key was embracing those ups and downs and accepting that failure is often part of the process. Stay positive and keep going!
—Luke Murray, Mississippi State University, Class of 2024.

Perspective shifts are part of the learning process, but it seems like personal paradigms shift A LOT in architecture school. Just look how many people said:

5. Architecture school isn’t just about designing—it’s about learning to think differently and adopting a new lifestyle.


It’s not just about designing buildings. It’s about thinking critically, communicating complex ideas clearly—both visually and verbally—and learning to handle uncertainty, especially when presenting your work to professors and critics. Knowing this earlier would’ve helped me face challenges and long nights with more confidence.
—Louis Y. Sepúlveda-Homs, Pontifical Catholic University of Puerto Rico, Class of 2025.


Architecture is not just about design and drawing—it’s a way of life and a way of thinking. It blends emotion and logic, requiring not only creative vision but also analytical rigor. Architecture will take over more than your class time—it will shape how you travel, how you socialize, and how you see the world. You’ll constantly analyze spaces, structures, and experiences through the lens of architecture. So don’t treat it as just a subject or a set of assignments. It should become part of your life—something you genuinely love. Only with that passion can you endure the countless days and nights of designing, drawing, modeling, and revising. With that mindset, you’ll gain a broader perspective—and meet challenges with greater composure and purpose.
—Kai Chen, University of Pennsylvania, Class 2025.


Architecture isn’t just about designing spectacular buildings or creating perfect renderings. I would’ve liked to understand early on that a big part of the journey involves learning to cope with frustration, criticism, and sleepless nights. Architecture is not only about technique or art—it’s a way of thinking. You begin to question everything, from how a community lives to why a window is placed where it is. And that’s okay. You don’t need to have all the answers in your first semester.
—Sebastián André Colón López, School of Architecture, Pontifical Catholic University of Puerto Rico, Class of 2024.


It isn’t just about designing buildings, it’s about learning how to think and design through everyday life and the tools around us. Inspiration often comes from the ordinary, and it’s this connection to daily life that shapes meaningful design. Also, architecture is a continuous learning process. School is just the beginning—there’s no real end to learning in this field.
—Anushka Naik, NYIT, Class of 2024 (MS.AUD).


Architecture school isn’t really about learning how to design—it’s about learning how to think. I wish someone had told us that the real challenge isn’t making things look good, it’s learning how to question—how to ask why something should exist, how it could exist differently, and whether it needs to at all. That shift would’ve helped me waste less time trying to do things the “right” way. —Anonymous.


Architecture school is a commitment to a lifestyle. I found my most successful student work involved transforming the brief into a creative solution that was practical and conceptual. This involved thinking about the project outside of the studio, testing many ideas, and having fun with the process!
—Daniel Icaza-Milson, University of Texas, Austin, Class of 2025 (M.Arch)


Architecture is not just about making things look beautiful or being good at drawing. It is so much more than that. It is about understanding the theory and philosophy behind design, and the psychology of how people experience and interact with spaces. Architecture requires thinking critically and designing with intention, finding that balance between creativity and logic. Ultimately, it is about creating experiences, not just buildings.                                                      —Razan Almajid, American University of Sharjah, Class of 2024.

Within new mindsets and new fields, don’t lose track of yourself either…

6. Find your niche and involve yourself in your work.


When I started, I was concerned about what I would do if it turned out I was more interested in another subject. But, the scope of architecture is so vast that you will learn about everything and anything you want to. Due to the nature of design, you get to learn all about who and what you are designing for, which opens up a world of subjects for you to study and explore.
—Elyssa Hines, Washington University in St. Louis, Class of 2027.


Bringing ourselves and our perspective of the world into the work we do is essential; our diversity is a strength and a source of inspiration for building new structures and a better future. I spent my first few years of architecture school trying to make projects that I thought would satisfy my professors and drew only from precedents that were regarded as exceptional in the canon of architecture. But when I started to bring my history and lived experience into my work, I realized that our stories, memories, and personal and inherited knowledge are just as important and influential as the formal building expertise we learn about architecture in school. The diverse needs of the future can only be met by honoring the diverse ways we experience the world. Our lived experience serves as a guide, a place of rootedness, and a source for generating new dialogues and possibilities for architecture and our future.
—Catherine Chattergoon, Pratt Institute, Class of 2024.

Adopting a new way of thinking and a new lifestyle based on your profession, as well as involving yourself in your work— no matter how transformative it can be, it can also create some issues. So it is also important to consider…

7. Time-management and boundaries!


I wish someone had told me about the importance of time management and balancing my priorities when it comes to the learning process of this profession. Architecture school can be intense, and understanding how to prioritize my personal life and manage tasks effectively would have reduced stress and improved my overall experience.
—Yaimi L. Cartagena Santiago, Pontifical Catholic University of Puerto Rico, Class of 2024.

You take a lot of skills with you from education into the workforce, but the line between education and work is often blurred because…

8. Learning doesn’t stop when you are done with your degree. Also, while you are in your degree you should be trying to learn even more.


Books are your friends. If I could do architecture school over again, I would spend more time in the library stacks. There are centuries of architectural thinking, writing, and making that can expand your world and deepen your work. You’re guaranteed to find inspiration in a good library. 

—Steven Fallon, Boston Architectural College, Class of 2024 (M.Arch). 


You need to read more, see more, and think more. Architecture is the major that needs both sensual and rational thought, so more experience will help you with designing and thinking.
—Henry Li, Savannah College of Art and Design, Class of 2024.

But of course…

9. School won’t teach you everything–it’s important to be mindful of that.


[I wish I knew] how different school and practice are in architecture. School is much more theory and design-based based while practice is more technical-based. [I also wish I knew]more about the licensing process post-college! It would’ve been helpful to get a head start during my education, but it was never explained in school.
—Bailey Berdan, Lawrence Technological University, Class of 2022.

Architecture school is also far more than the lessons taught about the field itself. You also learn that…

10. Design is powerful only when it communicates with clarity, purpose, and its audience in mind.


Architecture school is as much about learning how to tell a story as it is about learning how to design. No matter how innovative your idea is, it only matters if you can communicate it clearly and meaningfully. I learned this the hard way — and I think all of us have to — because sometimes the best thing you can do is step back from the drawing board and really ask yourself, “What’s the story I’m trying to tell here?” At the end of the day, architecture isn’t just about creating buildings; it’s about shaping experiences and connecting with people. That’s what makes it powerful — and that’s what makes it so fun.
—Dillon Patel, North Carolina State University, Class of 2024.


Design is a form of communication, and thus, to design architecture is to engage in a conversation by constructing syntax within the language of architecture. Being consciously aware of who the dialogue is with for each project is a crucial perspective when engaging in communication through the language of design. As long as we understand who we are in dialogue with, we can engage in meaningful discussions without becoming confused. What’s important is to clearly identify who you are speaking with through your design.
— Shun Sasaki, Southern California Institute of Architecture, Class of 2024.

To do all of the recommendations listed here so far, there is one key…

11. Stamina.


Studying architecture comes with many hardships—the brutally long hours, the dreaded pin-ups, the caffeinated red-eye crits—all culminating in a final project that one hopes to be proud of. To study architecture is to have stamina. There is a quote by John Hejduk that comes to mind: “Architecture is not a single-line sprint, but rather a marathon. A sprinter sees the world as a flat field, with the end in his sights. He is shallow, and his architecture resists deciphering, interpretation, or reflection. In contrast, the long-distance runner sees the world, the complex paths and valleys of the profession. Their range is extended, and improves with age; their architecture becomes richer and more profound.” My advice is to endure and have the stamina to sustain this journey.
—Daniel Wong, University of Toronto, Class of 2024.

But always remember to not let resilience obscure growth, because…

12. Failure is useful, and mistakes are important.


Design is an iterative process, and failure, especially in the early stages, is not just okay, but sometimes essential. I used to believe I had to get things right from the start, which made me overthink and hesitate. Looking back, if I had understood that iteration and even failure are part of the creative process, I would have spent less time worrying about making mistakes and more time experimenting, learning, and enjoying the journey.
—Sara Suliman, American University of Sharjah, Class of 2024.

Studying architecture isn’t one-size-fits-all; it’s a deeply personal, often unpredictable, and constantly evolving journey. The students and graduates featured here speak with honesty, vulnerability, and hard-won insight. Their reflections reveal not just what to expect from architecture school but how to approach it—with resilience, curiosity, and a willingness to grow through discomfort.

Whether you’re still deciding if architecture is for you, preparing to begin your first semester, or already in the thick of it, remember this: you are not alone in your questions, your doubts, or your hopes. There is no perfect blueprint for success, but there is a community of people who’ve walked similar paths—and they’re rooting for you.

Let these stories be your compass, your caution signs, and your encouragement. Study hard, design with purpose, fail forward, and don’t forget to build a life (as well as buildings).

Like what these students and young professionals have to say? Stay tuned for our “part-two”article, ‘The Biggest Lesson I Learned In Architecture School’, for more advice from this group of students.

Study Architecture Student Showcase - Part XII

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For the final installment of the 2022 Student Showcase series we focus on five student projects that take a closer look at historic preservation. We begin in Beirut, a city rich in history, that has seen a range of disasters over the decades and remains in dire need of restoring its heritage sites. Then a look at a church in Wisconsin, a building on a university campus and to a museum in Spain where historic preservation allows us the opportunity to glance into the past.

Incase you missed past installments, check out Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X and Part XI.

Rebuilding After Disaster: Beirut’s Heritage Houses by Gabrielle Kalouche, M.Arch ’22
University of Cincinnati | Advisor: Elizabeth Riorden

Heritage is always at risk when developers and advocates tear down and replace structures for their own profit and commercial purposes. Preserving sites and their history has become more popular and has been gaining a foothold in movements across the world. The appropriation of the intervention on historic sites has become a subject prone to criticism from the polarities of conservative to more liberal heritage conservationists.

In Beirut, Lebanon, a city that has been rebuilt several times throughout history and now faces the need of intervention after sustaining severe damages from the 2020 Port Blast, the debate is a sensitive subject. The efforts to rebuild following the Civil War (1975 – 1990) are criticized for the demolition of historic structures and gentrification. What lesson can be learned and applied to the current situation of Beirut and its few remaining heritage structures?

This thesis aims to approach the subject of rebuilding after the Port Blast by using methods of adaptive reuse to preserve the history and memories embedded in the structures while bringing new life and purpose to their post-blast conditions.

Instagram: @gabriellekalouche, @daapsaid, @edmitchell1909

The National Shrine of Our Lady of Good Help by Natalie Pratt, B.Arch ’22
University of Notre Dame | Advisor: Sean Patrick Nohelty, AIA

Nestled in the farm fields of northern Wisconsin lies a simple church known as the National Shrine of Our Lady of Good Help. The site of the one approved Marian apparition in the United States, the small church on site has been quickly outgrown since the approval of the apparition in 2011. This student design project seeks to create a place of pilgrimage, similar to Fatima or Lourdes, in order to preserve and celebrate the sacredness of the site, allowing for the growing number of pilgrims. As dreamed by the local bishop, the design project introduces a large pilgrimage church, large enough to hold nearly 2,000 pilgrims, along with a convent to house the sisters who help to run the shrine.

The vision for the site includes a processional pilgrimage route leading up the hill to the church, meditation trails through the woods, a visitor center and gift shop, and a votive chapel at the location of the apparition as the most sacred and secluded place of prayer on the site. Inspired by the history of the site, the architecture takes cues from Baltic Gothic architecture of Belgium and the local brick Gothic church architecture built by immigrants.. The brick is the cream-colored brick for which Milwaukee is so well known and which is very common on the Western side of Lake Michigan. Given the farms which serve as context, the design seeks to preserve the simplicity and humbleness of the site on which Our Lady appeared, while still allowing it to bring wonder to pilgrims, like a piece of Heaven among the fields.

The church is placed at the highest point on the site, across the river from the entrance, as is the apparition chapel, providing a sense of sacredness to both locations, as the pilgrim crosses the water to access the buildings. This also provides the path of procession, so important to pilgrimages. The church itself has two towers, symbolic of the two trees between which Our Lady appeared, with steps leading into the sanctuary raising the guest into the heavenly interior, a traditional Latin cross form, filled with the light from the stained glass windows.

Twisting Intersectionality: A Design Methodology Combining Quantitative and Qualitative Form-Finding and Phenotypic Diversification by Wesley Gonzalez-Colon, Sakshi Sharma and Soham Dongre, M.Arch ’22
University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign | Advisor: Yun Kyu Yi

The project provided an Extension to the Museum of Contemporary Art of Chicago (MCA). The site faces Michigan Lake, which is distant from the existing building. The view from the area towards Michigan Lake is partially unobstructed and connects visually towards the East direction. The site is rectangular, measuring 30 meters by 50 meters, and oriented north/south, having its longest elevations facing the MCA and Lake Shore Park. Overall, the site is surrounded by tall buildings, which cast a shadow, making the new building proposal less than the overall scale. Several challenges, including circulation, daylighting, accessibility, views, scale, and thermal performance, were considered through design and evaluation criteria. The challenges allowed the generation of a parametric design to evaluate architectural aesthetics, daylighting and thermal performance, accessibility, and views to achieve a proposal aiming to attend to different aspects of these.

The project uses a parametric design method to explore multi-objective optimization (MOO) to define a form based on measurable criteria. Two MOO were designed for the test: form-finding and envelope system diversification. The main challenge when optimizing was computational time and load to run various simulation tools to calculate complex form generation. Thus, the design methodology incorporates Artificial Neural Network (ANN) to reduce and simplify the simulation execution. In the final stage, image recognition was used to select the solution closest to personal preference. The project’s most significant contribution was integrating different simulation tools in the design process and using image recognizing to find design preferences and support the design selection process.

Instagram: @wesgc.design, @sakshiisharmaaa, @sohamdongre

Brutal Intentions: Transforming Brutalism & The Case for Crosley Tower by Anna Hargan, M.Arch ’22
University of Cincinnati | Advisor: Elizabeth Riorden & Michael McInturf

Demolition is everywhere. Brutalist architecture and associated buildings are endangered, with many of these structures facing demolition worldwide. Given society’s push to achieve a more sustainable future, we can no longer rely on demolition to get rid of our problems. Some in the architectural industry have chosen to address this issue through methods of transformation and adaptive reuse an attempt to preserve and alter previously unpopular, aging identities. By understanding the concepts of value, permanence, obsolescence, and preservation, innovative design solutions can challenge the widespread endangerment of buildings. Brutalism is slowly gaining popularity after a large period of distaste. However, a timely response is needed in order to prevent the end of this controversial, unique, and historical style.

In the case for Crosley Tower, a concrete high rise associated with Brutalism, on the University of Cincinnati’s campus in Cincinnati, Ohio, demolition is soon approaching. Innovative methods of transformation, preservation, and demolition will alter the structures identity and provide hybridized solutions that challenge its unique existence. A matrix of iterations involving constraints of addition, subtraction, and combinations of both provides a selection of four designs to be iterated on a more detailed level. These four project proposals both meet and challenge the physical and metaphysical nature of Crosley Tower in order to realize potentials hindered by traditional, uninventive demolition.

Instagram: @annak_hargan, @daapsaid, @mcinturf.architects

Wall, Hall, Dust & Rust: Prado’s Critical Zone by Nur Esin Karaosman, B.Arch ’22
Southern California Institute of Architecture | Advisor: Maxi Spina

This is a project of speculative preservation. In the contemporary world, there is a problem of preservation beyond the maintenance of material conditions. There is an even more enigmatic problem of preserving the images we associate with history. Representations, constructed social meanings, and intellectual categories are ultimately the most valuable things to concern. It is as much an optical problem as it is a material one. In reverse, this project starts with looking at the walls, as how they appear to us today: Through their visible bodies, without their constructed meanings, with hyper-attention, through the lens of imaging technologies. This thesis looks at the preservation in highly controlled historic environments, where what we see and how things appear to us are tried to be preserved, through the light of today’s scanning technology. The competition call to expand the Prado Museum becomes where this thesis locates itself. This thesis considers the wall as the critical zone, the thickness, which is hard to understand, which is far from equilibrium, which is fragile and unknown; to create new zones in the highly controlled environment of Madrid, Spain. These zones become the spaces where we stitch the fragments of the existing surfaces that we have been occupying, back together again; with engaging both their physical decay, but also with another kind of decay, which happens virtually. The design of the extension is treated in this project as an unusual kind of collage problem.

With this seamless collage, in the historically charged site of the Prado, Spain; what we see, and the images are no longer preserved, but their scanned bodies and resolutions are used to create a new synthesis in order to generate multiple meanings, alternative histories, and speculations for future physical, virtual, and material realities.

Instagram: @esinkaraosman @maxispina

We hope you have enjoyed this series of student work. We will put out a call for submissions for the 2023 Study Architecture Student Showcase in the coming weeks, stay tuned!

 

2022 Study Architecture Student Showcase - Part VII

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In part seven of the Study Architecture Student Showcase series we share eight student projects that focus on Wellness and the importance of healthy lifestyles in society. From dreaming to reflection to exercise there are many ways that architecture can help facilitate movement and a healthy community. These projects span globally from Canada to Lebanon to Korea but all have the same focus: wellness.

For a recap on the 2022 Student Showcase series so far, check out Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, and Part VI.

ECO-SCAPES: From Dreams as Spatial Experiences to Ecological, Social & Economic Alternatives by Hussein Zarour, B.Arch ’22
American University of Beirut | Advisor: Carla Aramouny

Long being a subject of artistic inquiry, dreams are often defined as successions of ideas, emotions, images, and sensations that occur in the mind. Research shows that dreaming serves its own important functions in our well-being, often associated with therapy. It conveys a spectrum of past experiences, recent events, defensive operations, perceptions of self and others, conflicts, problems, and attempts at their resolution. By doing so, dreams represent a certain adventure in a world where our internalized thoughts, feelings, unfulfilled needs, and wants come to life as many theories state and support (Jung, 1974).

This project titled “ECO-SCAPES: From Dreams as Spatial Experiences to Ecological, Social & Economic Alternatives” thus investigates dreams as an entry point to design explorative, therapeutic, and experiential spaces/landscapes which stand as ecological, social but also economic alternatives to an environment defined by destruction, deterioration, and deprivation.

The location of intervention, the capital city Beirut, has been facing continuous challenges, being ecological, social, and economic, favored by unhealthy spaces and unethical political systems. Most of the citizens, mentally and physically affected, find themselves deprived of most of their basic needs, thus naturally seeking a spatial alternative in response to this destructive environment.

Instagram: @zarour_hussein, @ard_aub

Architecture and the Oneiric: An Imaginative Translation of the Intersubjective Dream Experience by Amanda Scott, M.Arch ’22
North Dakota State University | Advisor: Stephen Wischer

“One has never seen the world well if he has not dreamed what he was seeing” (Gaston Bachelard). How can architecture be reimagined through oneiric thought? Could this evoke an architectural representation akin to dreams?

This thesis explores such questions by examining the phenomenon of dreaming from an embodied architectural perspective in response to an increasingly objective architectural framework. Drawing from psychological, philosophical, artistic, and mythical sources, we can examine aspects of dreaming not as something to escape into, but rather a primary form of reality, which is often overlooked in our rational, modern way of interpreting the world. Through the piecing together of historical and fictional fragments, architecture is reconstructed into a dreamlike re-description of reality that breaks down the distinction between real and imaginary, inside and outside, conscious and unconscious, acknowledging that we may actually see in the same way that we dream.

Walking along Freedom Tunnel in New York City, existing structures are transformed into transitional elements blurring realms of verity and obscurity, providing movement through a journey of dreamlike encounters. Drawing from six influential plotlines, with the hidden infrastructure of the tunnel as its setting; surrealist spaces are reimagined through a living translation of oneiric experience.

Instagram: @amandaa_scottt, @ndsu_sodaa

The Forever Home: Redefining Aging-In-Place by Laura Deacon, M.Arch ’22
University of British Columbia | Advisor: Inge Roecker

How do we house our aging population? This question – often overlooked, is one that requires an immediate solution. The population of individuals over 65 in Canada is projected to nearly double from 2020 to 2046, reaching 22% of the overall population. With this in mind, it is essential that architectural solutions are able to meet the dynamic needs of this aging demographic. The existing housing stock consist of reactive solutions, whereby individuals sequentially progress from one typology to another in accordance with their needs. This causes strain, confusion, and requires extensive support from the community as individuals orient and adapt to a new environment.

The primary objective of this thesis is to create an engaging environment that eliminates the burden of aging by allowing individuals to age-in-place throughout ones entire lifespan, in a vibrant community that facilitates architectural flexibility while simultaneously building resilience for future generations.

The Forever Home is a seven-story development situated in the heart of Yaletown, Downtown Vancouver, within close proximity to surrounding amenities and services. The proposed development features 196 adaptable modular units that allow for families to expand, contract, and divide at various stages of life, supplemented with a palliative care unit and guest suite located on each floor. Units are configured in a single-loaded corridor typology shaped around a central courtyard, which ensures adequate natural daylighting and cross ventilation is achieved. Residences are dichotomized into blocks consisting of eight units clustered around shared residential green space. Units also feature a semi-private buffer space between the public corridors and private units, which promotes socialization and neighborly connections amongst residents. Reverse community integration is achieved using a public grocery store, child care and adult daycare facility, restaurant, and smaller scale shops dispersed vertically throughout the building. In addition, residential amenities are also located on each floor. A clear wayfinding strategy assists residents to circumnavigate the building using a bright red bulkhead and a highly contrasting change in floor material, colour, and texture.

Instagram: @laurdeacon @ubcsala

Changing Place: A Persuasive Multipurpose Park for Healthy Lifestyles by Cesar Tran, M.Arch ’22
NewSchool of Architecture and Design | Advisor: Michael Stepner, Kurt Hunker and Rebekka Morrison

Sedentary lifestyles are becoming a standard that may lead to adverse health impacts over time. Surmounting these impacts include daily non-exercise physical activity (NEPA) to support mental, social, and physical health. In many scenarios, providing the space for NEPA may not be enough to encourage participation. Built environment designers can combat this by incorporating persuasive psychological techniques for physical activity. These methods are typically found to stimulate consumerism and addiction, therefore, this thesis reclaims these methods to promote wellness through the suggestion of healthy lifestyles.

A literature review was conducted to better understand the components of a healthy life, the types of psychology employed for increased engagement, and the different architectural environments that encourage NEPA with or without intention. The review culminated with the creation of a framework consisting of nine strategies that can be considered in architectural design for habitual NEPA. Case studies were then analyzed to better understand the usage of the strategies in today’s built environment. The results were then utilized and demonstrated in a theoretical project to encourage NEPA in National City, CA which is known to have high rates of coronary heart disease and stroke.

A multipurpose park with flexible food markets and co-working spaces was designed to attract community members to participate in NEPA. The primary reason to journey here is to satisfy a person’s basic needs, sustenance. Pairing this program with multiple incentives associated with stress relief and play creates convenience for users which can lead to a routine over time. This example supports the thesis through framework application and exhibits one of the ways the built environment can encourage healthy routines through the power of persuasion.

[A]WAITING TO DIFFUSE by Joseph Chalhoub, B.Arch ’22
American University of Beirut | Advisor: Carla Aramouny

When starting any design project, we, as architects, always start by analyzing the site, mapping out conditions and studying human behavior in order to better understand how we can intervene. However, while we look at walking patterns, climatic conditions and many other aspects, we are always neglecting one very important factor: WAITING.

During the most recent economic and infrastructural collapse Lebanon has been going through, the project zoomed into ‘waiting’ as a research topic. At the time, waiting was something happening on various scales, from existential waiting to waiting in line for gas.

With a blend of anthropological research, design experiments, and research in the arts, architecture, and placemaking, the project tackles how the notion of waiting can be repurposed, reused and activated to make the most out of this urban condition. In fact, the project presents a set of functions tailored to the needs of the neighborhood and encourages users to participate and help out in the different activities. Here lies the notion of interconnected functions. By taking the waiting out of certain functions, we can repurpose them towards others and so on and so forth.

This type of adaptive reuse can feed back into the architectural intervention in more than one way. Waiting would be recycled by giving the individual multiple outlets for their time. The project presents a new kind of “Waiting Typology” that can possibly be adapted and integrated into different neighborhoods in order to answer the need of the person waiting and change depending on the site specifications. Waiting then becomes something that we can use within our research, something that is regenerative, something that is awaiting to be diffused.

Instagram: @joeych99, @ard_aub

Wellness in the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ): Connecting with Culture and the Environment by Briana Pereira, B.Arch ’22
New York Institute of Technology | Advisor: Dongsei Kim

The Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) between North and South Korea is one of the most militarized areas in the world. Protected from urbanization for the last 69 years, the DMZ has become an involuntary park for flourishing flora and fauna with minimal human intervention.

This project takes advantage of this unique condition and nature’s healing ability to house a new mental health wellness center within the DMZ open to both Koreans and foreigners. Located on the Military Demarcation Line (MDL) within the DMZ, the project is integrated into the cascading landscape in the heavily forested eastern region of the DMZ. Immersed in nature, visitors engage the natural environment through the project’s landscape and architectural spaces to recuperate and improve their mental health.

In addition, visitors engage in traditional Korean cooking and pottery, tea ceremonies, meditation, yoga, reading, walking, and other reflective programs and activities to improve their mental health. Here architecture becomes a container for shared Korean cultures. Further, the project benefits visitors’ mental wellness through how the architecture frames the immediate mountain ranges’ beauty and how it captures the Korean peninsula’s four distinct seasons.

Instagram: @briana_pereira_, @dongsei.kim

Wood is Good: Informing Wood Architecture Through the Investigation of Craft in Furniture by Daniel Rodrigues, M.Arch ’22
Laurentian University | Advisor: Randall Kober

The act of craftsmanship, specifically woodworking, gives a sense of accomplishment that is therapeutic. Improving the well being of someone who is part of this maker culture yields positive benefits to the state of their mental health from making as a form of therapy in a nonclinical manner.

The final project will be a community oriented woodshop, located in the downtown of Sudbury, Ontario. This is a methodology driven thesis, where the primary method is learning through making; specifically, the design and construction of an intricate workbench as the most important experiment.

The focus of the research is to investigate how the design and craft of furniture can inspire and inform contemporary wood architecture at varying scales. This architecture will be didactic in nature, exemplifying craft through the tectonic connections of complex wood joints that embody the inherit potential of wood as a building material.

Instagram: @danielrodrigues343, @randallkober

I WENT FOR A WALK Observations, Reflections, and Imaginings upon Montréal’s Everyday Thresholds by Shane Villeneuve, M.Arch ’22
Carleton University | Advisor: Piper Bernbaum

I went for a walk.

Borrowing from the methods of The Situationist Movement and setting out to explore “the in-betweenness” of the city of Montréal, this thesis engages in a series of personal “drifts.” The moments explored in the work are liminal spaces – most commonly defined in architectural practice as thresholds. A threshold is a space of anticipation existing at the convergence between different spatial conditions. It possesses such depth that it may elicit a profound stimulation of the senses in the human body. Perception is personal and tied to our own needs, desires, and experiences; a wanderer may perceive a threshold in the public sphere of the city as monumental or banal depending on their subjective and personal relationship with it.

Therefore, this thesis attempts to explore and question the most mundane experiences of the everyday thresholds encountered in the drifts and consider what extraordinary value is found in some of the most overlooked spaces. How do we slow down? How do we feel safe? How do we learn from the way space is used and appropriated, and the complexity of how it serves the city through its everydayness instead of only considering it for how it was originally designed? Thresholds become places of crossing over, of repose, of exchange and of transition, and become a space where the public can engage in the architecture of the city in the in-betweenness. Through “drifting”, this thesis eventually becomes a space to imagine new threshold conditions revealing and amplifying the potential that these moments offer to everyday citizens.

Instagram: @villeneuves @piperb @carleton_architecture

Stay tuned for Part VIII of the Student Showcase!

2022 Study Architecture Student Showcase - Part VI

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Welcome back to installment Six of the Study Architecture Student Showcase series! This week we share six student projects that take a look at the role of architecture in conflict. From Korea to Russia to Afghanistan, these projects show how conflict effects the identities of communities and how architecture fits into that balance.

For a recap on the 2022 Student Showcase series so far, check out Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, and Part V.

Angle Masses: Korean War Memorial Museum in Seoul, Korea by Joo Young Lim, B.Arch ’22
Auburn University | Advisor: Il Kim

History of Korean War
At the end of World War II, Joseon (archaic name of Korea) was freed from Japanese occupation. Soon, the victorious countries drew the border line on the Korean Peninsula based on 38th degrees north latitude. The north side of this border, the 38th Parallel, was occupied by the Soviet Union’s socialist force, and the United States’ capitalist force took the south. As Kim Il-Sung (North Korea) invaded the south across the 38th Parallel, the peninsula became a field of proxy war of ideological forces.

Design
A history timeline is set as X-axis, and a territorial shift between the north and the south as Y-axis. The representation of the 38th Parallel is parallel to the X-axis. Various historical events, including conflicts, were expressed as slits on the passage of the 38th Parallel.

The triangular masses are designed to pierce across the representation of the 38th Parallel. These triangular masses symbolize the military forces in the Korean War, and they vary in size depending on the strength of the forces. Interlocking with the axis of time, each of four triangular masses represents Kim Il-Sung’s invasion of the South Korea, U.S. and U.N.’s military supporting the South, the Chinese People’s Army supporting the North, and lastly, months of long siege.

Each of reversed-pyramid triangular masses elucidates war’s grave consequences. They are seemingly unstably connected to each other, and their dark metal exterior panels represent the gloomy war. Inside, the viewer, walking on the ramp between RC concrete columns, thinks she/he is passing through the ruins of war. The floating tips of the reversed pyramids are visible in the underground gallery. This sense of floatation was achieved by extending the RC concrete columns in the middle of the structures. The shards of glass-like tips represent the agony of the victims and refugees. These tips visually connect the upper gallery and the lower, underground gallery. The upper gallery illustrates the power game of the war written by the political forces who started the war, while the underground gallery displays the relics of the victims who were anonymous citizens.

Instagram: @limarch94

The Two Sides of Otherness: A Cross-Cultural Regeneration of Reality by Daniel Porwoll, M.Arch ’22
North Dakota State University | Advisor: Stephen Wischer

In our current context, “identity” often stands as an edge where one being ends and the next begins; simultaneously separating and unifying. Yet, this inherent overlapping between self and other continues to be threatened by ideological and homogenizing narratives; either as a force of assimilation or division.

Among the many affected areas around the world is the Korean Demilitarized Zone, the Russo-Ukrainian Border, and the Carlisle Pennsylvania Indian Cemetery, in which hostile situations pose a unique yet difficult edge condition that might be mediated by empathetic imagination instigated by architecture. Responding to each situation, we examine how architecture might act as an archive for deeper understanding and exchange in an attempt to mediate new realities.

Philosopher Maurice Merleau-Ponty confirms this method through his concept of “flesh”, which examines the relationship between oneself and the Other as “reversible,” wherein edges become folds in order to gain a deeper interpersonal, intercultural and intersubjective understanding of the Other ourselves.

Instagram: @dkp.arch

[IN]visible by Ying Xuan Tan and Xi Xiang, B.Arch ’22
Syracuse University | Advisor: Lawrence Chua

This thesis is a conservative proposal seeking an eclectic solution to provide a stable environment for Afghanistan’s people and the preservation of human history. The project [IN]visible seeks to create a point of balance between the turbulent environment and its rich historic heritage meanwhile following a preliminary, iconoclasm.

Bamiyan valley was marked as an important trans-cultural portal for Afghanistan and Central Asia. Statues, stupas, viharas, shrines, and grottos here have all witnessed the cultural creolization of this land. The government today had promised to engage in international diplomacy and make compromises. Preserving artifacts at Bamiyan is a humanitarian act and brings the government financial income.

The project seeks to find ways to preserve precious artifacts in the age of the Taliban’s regime, respecting the Taliban’s ideology on the surface while showing the real deal on the inside. Using various materials, water, and light as a tool to hide the artifacts from the surface. The design process discovers methods of visual illusion. Water, an essential element in Middle East architecture, would orient throughout the project. The stream would lead the locals and visitors to enter the project to see the actual side of these cultural artifacts.

This thesis is a pioneer experimental practice toward religious conflict that does not follow mainstream standards. It is also a conservation proposal seeking an eclectic solution to ensure a stable environment for Afghanistan’s people. In the end, no matter how the government change, it is the people’s life happiness that matters the most.

Instagram: @tototan_yx, @xxixixiwest

Guerilla Museology: By All Means Necessary by Brendan Wallace, B.Arch ’22
University of Tennessee | Advisor: Jennifer Akerman

For many, it is believable that colonialism has met its end. The latter half of the 20th century witnessed a global spirit of liberation, specifically within African and Asian continents. New annexations of land allowed nations to declare sovereignty in watershed spirit. Yet, the residual effects of the colonialist era has effectively perverted contemporary spaces, especially those typologies which have a legacy deeply rooted in the violence of looting, stealing, raping, and pillaging- namely, the museum.

While direct subjugation under colonialism may have met its end, the 21st century has challenged this premise, understanding that colonized structures remain to inhibit this “autonomy”. The likes of the Louvre, The Met, The British Museum, and the Saint Hermitage Museum, are all national treasures which lie of the heart of an imperial memoryscape. Their educational commentaries have transitioned from the national to the global scale as they are catapulted into the role of a universalist museum with artifacts from all parts of the globe. Their objects represent a past which has been bastardized, deceptively rewritten, and Westernized. Their place in the arena of global memory has prevailed on top and contribute to modern day racism, xenophobia, necropolitics, and various forms of othering.

The museum is unyielding, working as a contemporary agent for cultural genocide.

This thesis works to acknowledge these power structures and subvert them as a way of envisioning a new, equitable museumscape. I am interested in all scales of museum work to invite democratized curatorial practice. The steps are as follows:

1. creating a new museum infrastructural system to ensure curation is achieved as a global practice
2. engaging the city as a system of participatory intelligence
3. decolonizing the museum aesthetic whose expression implies subordination
4. proposing curatorial machines as curatorial agents
5. ensuring the appropriate and holistic contextualization of all objects

These steps are meant to ensure the redevelopment of public trust and redefine the everyday museumgoer as a worthy contributor to curation and exhibition practice. Guerilla Museology inspires an aggressive reclamation of curation by acknowledging the possibility of a post-museum world where the globe itself is a museum site.

Instagram: @brendan.com_, @j_akerman

Stored Labor by Kristabel Chung, B.Arch ’22
Syracuse University | Advisor: Lawrence Chua

This project examines the relationship between domestic labor laws and the “spatial practices” of migrant domestic worker (MDW) spaces in Hong Kong. The project asks, how do the designed and spatial practices of domestic worker accommodation inform us about the hierarchy and future of domestic space in Hong Kong?

In 2003, Hong Kong issued a law requiring domestic workers to live with their employers. For apartments without a designed servant space, makeshift accommodations have been created within those apartments to comply with the law. The research studies these modifications within the home and creates spatial abstractions through differently scaled models.

The spatial practice of employers and the designs of residential developers of migrant domestic worker accommodations in Hong Kong creates a hierarchy between the servant and the served through varying means, ranging from porousness to confinement. We see this in examples such as sharing spaces with other household members, living in the living room or kitchen, and in objects such as fabric partitions, unlockable doors, or security cameras.

The research is based on a survey that was carried out in collaboration with the Mission for Migrant Workers, an NGO in Hong Kong. Additionally, in-person interviews revealed that employers renovated servant spaces antithetically to the developer’s designs. The survey asked questions about privacy and had the workers draw a floor plan of their accommodations, while the interviews allowed for an intimate understanding of spaces and casts that preserve the material damage due to their labor. This project proposes shifting furniture and structural changes to the participants’ apartments to expose the absurdity of the condition.

Since many employees struggle to voice their opinions about space, the passive-aggressive act of rethinking the functions of these household objects as weapons to ensure privacy also critiques power dynamics in the household. Furniture alterations allow for the employee to play more games of resistance during the hours when the employer is at home. It utilizes what is of importance to the employer as leverage for the employee to get privacy, respect, and dignity.

Instagram: @kristabelchung

Living with Ghosts by Ximeng Luo and Shihui Zhu, B.Arch ’22
Syracuse University | Advisor: Lawrence Chua

“Maps! Living with Ghosts” is a thesis project on representation based off from our research of the border region between China and Russia, in which we translate the data collected from official statistics, policies, documents, and more private travel logs, interviews, diaries, memoirs, and literature, into a composite drawing, to explore the possibilities of images and representation techniques.

In the contemporary context, the same piece of natural land often displays a superimposition of various truths. The collapse of overlapping spacetime can be found in marks created by human construction activities, compressed into the concept of contemporaneity.

Indigenous knowledge and local understandings get lost in the supersession of the old understanding of space by the new that is observably dictated by modern maps. Hence, memory itself becomes a representation of the space being understood and remembered, and it continues to influence people’s perception of reality, like a ghost that haunts the living. While the nation state can easily encroach upon ungoverned spaces and wipe out their past, the people who lived on the land carried their ghosts with them as they proceeded in life.

In the project, individual memories are collected and translated into certain forms of representation and overlaid on top of the scientific map, showing transparency as well as complexity, a new composite representation of spatial relationships and identities.

The scene is set along the Heilongjiang. A fluid water body that feeds populations in the Russian Far East and Northeastern China, simultaneously delineates the long and winding national border between contemporary Russia and China.

The project traces the river downstream, investigating five specific sites. From man-made landscapes in the forms of nomad camp, temporary settlement, village and town, and cities in this borderland far from the state’s central power, we are looking into both the natural landscape and environment, presence of the authority, and the resulting forms of living.

Instagram: @sximengl, @sunnyynnuss

Part VII of the Student Showcase coming soon!

2022 Study Architecture Student Showcase - Part V

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Week Five of the Study Architecture Student Showcase is here! The compilation of seven student projects we share this week all reimagine the relationship between architecture and community. From Bosnia to Knoxville, TN we take a look at how communities are shaped by architecture. If you’ve missed the past installments, check out Part I, Part II, Part III, and Part IV.

Chinatown Collective by Cecilia Lo, M. Arch, M. La ’22
University of British Columbia | Advisor: Inge Roecker

This project seeks to represent the relationships between culture, heritage and identity.

As a first generation Chinese-Canadian settler immigrant, I look to investigate the forces of the built environment that has shaped my personal identity and the forces that are shaping others perception of my identity. I situate my investigation in the context of North American Chinatowns, one of the most glaring examples of a Chinese-Canadian space. Through storytelling, I explore how heritage can be spatialized and how its representation reframes culture and identity.

Current heritage conservation methods have trapped spaces in time. By regulating the appearance of these naturally changing spaces, they’ve been forced into stagnation because of competing pressures of nationalism and consumerism. Heritage sites become representations of an ideal that is imposed on by designers, politicians, and government. Heritage has become a commodity.

However, I argue that heritage is not an asset to be protected and conserved. Heritage must be sustained and defined by the everyday lived experiences of people in order to result in the creation of resilient cultural spaces. Through storytelling, I speculate on the narratives of these people and ask the question: What do these places become when they are created, designed, and inhabited by the community living there?

Instagram: @ceeclialo, @ubcsala

Re(clay)ming Doyle Lane Center for Ceramic Arts by Sarra Starbird, B. Arch ’22
Cal Poly Ponoma | Advisor: Robert Alexander

The Los Angeles Technical Trade college in South Central LA encourages the growth of Design/Media, Construction Sciences, and Culinary arts to name a few. Los Angeles is home to a largely growing ceramics community, and demand for programs is outweighing LATTC’s current department facilities.

By reclaiming the adjacent AT&T data center building projected to be moved due to expansion, the reuse of this facility will house the education and exploration of emerging ceramicists. Prominent Los Angeles Ceramicist Doyle Lane was known for utilizing tactile glazes within his ceramic murals. In honor of this prominent figure, The Doyle Lane Center for Ceramic Arts is an expansion to the LATTC curriculum, one that is fueling the flame for ceramic exploration. Nestled adjacent to the Metro Blue blue line and the Intersection of the 10 and 110 freeways LATTC campus has strong ties to the Los Angeles community.

I am proposing to adapt the remaining non-campus building on the LATTC Campus block. This will help unify the college in relation to the campus’s main street: West Washington Boulevard. The heat of this project creates a tie between differing backgrounds and crafts, linking passion through a flame. This project aims to engage the Los Angeles ceramics community and create an outlet for the craft of ceramics both sculpturally and architecturally by reshaping an existing form and reimagining it in a language parallel to the department’s pedagogy, one that teaches from the exterior what is reflected within.

Instagram: @starbird.arc, @rbrtalxandr

Sarajevo Art and Activist Center by Shuyu Meng, B.Arch ’22
Syracuse University | Advisor: Lawrence Chua

The historical background of the region governed by authorities with different cultures and religions creates the multi-ethnic country of Bosnia and Hercegovina (BiH); recent war caused by ethnic nationalism further splits the country and segregates ethnically groups geographically. As the capital of BiH, Sarajevo is a typical example of an ethnic exclusive situation happening extremely in the historical center of the city retained by current political constitutional issues.

However, under ethnic violence, various forms of activist activity are held spontaneously by citizens in Sarajevo and from all over the country — both during the war and in the postwar period in today’s Sarajevo — a powerful way to resist ethnic conflicts, increase cross-ethnic communication, and express civil voice to the government and the world.

Therefore, the Sarajevo Art and Activist Center is proposed in the Baščaršija area to provide an inclusive space and open stage for people to gather, produce artwork, exhibit, perform, and any potential public activities. People with different ethnic background are welcomed to participate in everyday activities which promotes cross-ethnic interaction through civic effort.

The architectural form of the project is inspired by and abstracted from traditional local architecture in the context, creating communal space that is reshaped in a modern manner. To accommodate various programs in the Center including temporary gathering and long-term art production, both the interior and exterior space is designed openly with simple shape that can be divided by movable panels for special needs.

Instagram: @syr_arch_nyc

The Belly of South Central by Josue Navarro Lazalde, B.Arch ’22
Cal Poly Ponoma | Advisor: Robert Alexander

Markets were once the basis of town formation, and their role as places where food was sold has been one of the fundamental characteristics of early settlement. Today, South Central’s zoning codes and policies physically separate activities revolving around food.

This project seeks to carve out public space and adds to the built urban fabric that sets the stage for social interaction centered on food. Located at 233 W Washington Blvd sits a paved piece of land similar to the prevailing ground-level parking lots throughout Los Angeles, however, unlike similar sites that persist as tourist attractions, 233 W Washington sits in a culturally rich and diverse neighborhood only visited by its inhabitants; community members, commuters, and students.

The South Los Angeles community, primarily made up of Latino and Black individuals bring forth numerous artisanal cuisines that dominate the area with hole-in-wall restaurants, food trucks, and pushcart vendors. Sporadically, alongside these nested cultural centers lie fast food chain restaurants. The absence of supermarkets alongside the abundance of informal vendors created the necessity for space with qualities resembling the mall/market typology.

The integration of a new below-grade station and street crossing for the LA Metro A line train will not only serve the community by creating a safe traffic-free zone to board trains but also promises a constant flow of users to the project. Through this synthesis of programs, the market and station hope to support the existing cultural context, promote user comfortability, foster continuous vendor economic security, and prolong its viability with sustained user activity.

Instagram: @josuenavarrolazalde, @rbrtalxandr

Line of Action: Unfolding Cycles of Placemaking by Beatriz Morum de Santanna Xavier and Michelle Singer, B.Arch ’22
Pratt Institute School of Architecture | Advisor: Gonzalo Jose Lopez Garrido and Daniela Fabricius

The traditional practices of border drawing and map-making negate the experiential, the three-dimensional, and subjective experience of the human. Therefore stewardship and radical design of boundaries, borders, and waters edge can be something of rebellion and have the potential to disrupt the geometric and oppressive systems implanted by white settler-colonialism.

We ask how can we radically occupy the residual spaces that the grid could not reach, where it disintegrated, and what it left out? Projects have studied the historical segregation of colonial cities, but few look to the regions of in-between generated by centuries of settler-colonialism. The act of paving gridded streets into divided terrain was only possible where the land was flat enough to colonize. What happens to the terrain labeled as “impassable”in Sanborn maps? These landscapes cannot be subdivided and paved over.

Engaging these in-between spaces as means of action and placemaking can address unseen histories of the ancient past while acknowledging the prevailing struggles of the current moment. Through methods of folding, our project establishes a framework for collective use, inhabitation, and eventual co-stewardship of spaces, through folding the urban grid for the reclamation of communal land. We propose legislation that allows for collective action to undermine biased authorities that approve land use. We take from the concept of adverse possession – squatter’s rights – and create a direct pathway to collective stewardship, providing a suggestive framework for communities to reclaim abandoned lots and parceled land without a seal of approval.

Our research unfolds in liminal cities of ancestry, Kansas City, Missouri and Recife, Brazil. These sites become case studies that reflect one another in two parallel worlds of colonization where we have familial ties. Designing connections and stitching together geometric interventions, we introduce a suggestive framework adaptive to cities across the americas.

Instagram: @bia_mxavier, @m_ch_ll_, @gjlg, @knitknot_architecture

Microcosme in the West by Jenny Leclerc, Olivia Lessard, B.Arch ’22
Université du Québec à Montréal | Advisor: Borkur Bergman

A microcosm in the West is a project where the community is key. The exchanges, the encounters, and the participation of everyone forms the spatial organization. It offers a great density through a path between a various amount of indoors and outdoors spaces. It plays with the public and the private borders to generate a sense of community and openness. There is a residential, a work and a commercial area in every building without neglecting the communal areas.

The preservation of the Seagram Distillery patrimonial complex was part of our main concerns. Since the site had an industrial vocation, the project keeps that essence. The intentions are to provide the community with mixed purposes and proximity working places. Meanwhile affordable housing for people in need is crucial. In addition to improving density, we linked the social housing development in the vicinity to the Seagram pole where jobs, schools and different services will be available.

The urban form responds to the Nordic climax. It changes the lifestyle of the occupants to make the most of every season. The form of the buildings generates a mild climate that allows comfortable circulations for the users.

The Lost Path is a trail where the biodiversity leads and allows pedestrians to cross over the whole site. It is also possible for cyclists, skiers, ice skaters to wander between the different points of interest. The access to active transportation is, therefore, made easier. The relation to the territory is an important consideration that guided our reflexions.

Instagram: @jennyleclerc, @livlessard

Community in Context by Ariani Harrison, M.Arch ’22
University of Tennessee | Advisor: Jennifer Akerman

What is community growth?

As a first-hand witness of the campaigns communities in Houston and Phoenix brought forward during city transformation, I believe that ground up community growth is important. Taking back the urban form from developers and government that have no stakes in the communities they build in gives power back to residents. Moving to Knoxville, I have seen developments which remind me of the obscene growth of Phoenix. Where sky scrapers are built along a man-made lake claiming the over-priced retail at the street level will give the city enough taxes for more public investments. Yet, senior citizens are becoming homeless in the same area because rent has inflated so much. I can only predict the same of South Knoxville as the waterfront is developed.

I am for making architecture more accessible, for the agency of mapping, and for using oral stories as tools to create a system towards a collective urbanism, one where the community has access to agency to change their space. South Knoxville has organically grown along the Tennessee River and perpendicular roads; however, growth in the area has not been valued until recently, resulting in ‘luxury housing’ and other general development moving in. Cities across the country have similar sentiments, where parts of the city slip through the cracks until superficial planning ideas, like mixed-use podium structures or creating high density within low density areas, are plopped into place to “revitalize” the area. Unfortunately, those implementations do not always work as there is no
relationship to the community, it can cause more chain brands to come in, and push locals out. What if the community had a say in their growth?

Connecting them to local organizations and leaders and giving three different scales of possible interventions based on context of the community could inspire these left behind communities. This prototype uses South Knoxville to show the insights one can find through mapping meaningful places, roadblocks to connectivity, and collecting the story of place with resulting possibilities for urban life. By mapping local and unused spaces along a central corridor, the community can take back spaces through temporary and semi-permanent projects.

Instagram: @arianiharrison, @j_akerman

Stay tuned for Part VI of the Study Architecture Student Showcase!

2022 Study Architecture Student Showcase - Part IV

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We are back with week four of the 2022 Student Architecture Student Showcase featuring five more projects from schools around the world. This week’s projects focus on improving the quality of life for marginalized communities ranging from Puerto Rico to Saudi Arabia and beyond. Each project showcases the unique context within the country of the project’s location.

For more student work, please explore Part I, Part II, and Part III.

Hanapbuhay: Remaking Manila by Romilie Calotes, M. Arch, B. EnvD. ’22
University of Manitoba | Advisor: Lisa Landrum

This thesis investigation probes at the matters of identity, dignity, and stability within spaces that the city and surrounding community traditionally perceive as “informal,” this often refers to “non-legal” settlers. Manila City’s collective memory vis a vis identity is being examined with a focus narrowed on a reclaimed land in the coast of its bay; currently known as “BASECO Compound”. Entangled within colonial, political, and religious presence, the site has gradually become the home to Manila’s largest urban poor “barangay” community. The design of pragmatic and incremental, community-inspired eco-hub will line the entire neighborhood, which may be successfully achieved by the barangay themselves, for themselves.

I have always wondered why and how “slums” formed near where I had lived as a child. I would go to school with people who live in homes where their roofs were made of scrap corrugated metals (yiero), thin light-penetrated wood flooring that would screech with every footstep, and walls made of patched thin wood sheets and metal panels showing multi-colored gradation caused mainly by weathering. Yet when we came to school, we all wore the same uniforms, and we as I perceived, were all equals.

Hanapbuhay is a tagalog word, rooting from “hanap” meaning to search and “buhay” meaning life. The two words together, hanapbuhay, means livelihood. Many informal settlers come to the city in search of livelihood, but in exchange they live in unimaginable (to the western society) living conditions, often near creeks, garbage dumps, and dangerous sites.

In hopes of revealing latent memories prompting revelation of the BASECO’s identity, thus creating a space of sanctuary amidst a past that is founded in impermanence. The thesis addresses the rapid densification of cities in Metro Manila, The Philippines’ capital region which was accelerated by a phenomenon exacerbated by the martial law induced by a dictator president: Ferdinand Marcos from 1968-1987 in the Philippines¹. He ruled with an authoritative regime, removing the democratic rights of the Filipinos, and implementing curfews to restrict unwanted movement of people. The “squatter” population grew since the president prioritized economic growth to “improve” the global image of the country—thus meant constant relocation and displacement for people living without land titles, and deep disregard for social and ecologic wealth.

Once Marcos’ rule came to an end, the informal settlements referred to as “slums” began to expand at an unparalleled rate². This has arguably resulted in cruel living conditions, with people remaining in the margins of society and the city, as is typical of many “informal settlements”.

The study focuses on the local scale of Metro Manila, bringing a deeper understanding of the informal-incremental housing strategy, as well as a method of working with existing ecosystems, within a focused site. As Manila is surrounded by the Manila and Laguna Bays, this suggests the inescapable reality of working with water, as a river, ocean, and source of ‘hanapbuhay’.

Augmented by retrospect and latent memories of Manila, the investigation will conclude with addressing a deep-rooted personal curiosity to learn about my home country, inscribing stability through architecture. Learning from these settlements to help regenerate a more resilient future for Manila’s struggling communities. And offering a thought-provoking and careful proposal that will evoke transformation in the unchanging environment of Philippines’ socio-political and environmental landscape.

Instagram: @romiliecalotes, @faumanitoba, @lisalandrum.arch

Mercado Salado by Claudia Crespo, M.Arch ’22
University of Puerto Rico | Advisor: Regner Ramos

“Mercado Salado” by my student Claudia Crespo, is part of her M.Arch dissertation: “Villas Pesqueras: Documenting the Coastal Culture of Puerto Rico Through Architectural Discourse”. Claudia’s committee heralded her work as the best dissertation they’d ever seen, a story-teller that gives voice to a marginalized community, and highlighted how she was able to navigate complex issues with such elegance, maturity, and poise.

“Mercado Salado” inserts traditional Puerto Rican fishing villages in direct confrontation with public policies that exclude locals from access to our coasts, while granting access to the tourism industry. In this way it challenges issues of community displacement, legislation, and the right to our land. The imminent rise of sea levels is here used as the framework to destabilize existing zoning codes to further her agenda: of safeguarding the existence of a local fishing community, while recognizing that eventually Mercado Salado and its site will be lost to the waters.

Instagram: @uprarchitecture, @claudiacrespo6

Embodied Morphologies by Grace Ann Altenbern, B.Arch ’22
University of Tennessee | Advisor: Jennifer Akerman

As our society is a product of the patriarchy, architecture anticipates and produces a scale figure that adheres to the “mythical norm.” This institutes a rigid and unyielding architectural framework, constructing a hostile environment for everyone who lies outside of the presumed scale figure. Therefore, we must deconstruct architectural thought and design prosthetic interventions that defy the residual hardness of the built environment as we know it and expand to create a revolutionary future.

I am exploring the intersection of architecture and fashion through the lens of critical theory to challenge design practices within our patriarchal capitalist system. Through a perspective rooted in gender studies, I have identified architecture as being designed by and for Audre Lorde’s “mythical norm”: a white, thin, male, young, heterosexual, Christian, financially secure patriarchal product. Instead, I aim to study bodies in motion and find diverse scale figures for designing architecture.

Beginning with these revolutionary scale figures, I ask myself: what apparatuses could assist the modern scale figure in dwelling among marginalized spaces? In exploring this question, I have identified the prerequisites that define my prosthetics as tools to redistribute power to those that architecture has otherized. Utilizing this as a new framework to begin designing, I have created body architecture that aims to defy the rigidity of spatial practice. With these prosthetics drafted, I have represented them in environments that traditionally disregard anyone considered other.

Throughout these studies, I have found that design solutions must exist on a spectrum, utilizing bodies outside of the designer’s own privilege in order to create a more inclusive future: an embodied utopia.

Instagram: @graceannaltenbern, @j_akerman

“روح جدة” – Jeddah’s Soul by Baraa Al Ali, B.Arch ’22
American University of Beirut | Advisor: Carla Aramouny

The city of Jeddah in Saudi Arabia has witnessed, since the mid-20th century, urban changes and shifts at a rapid rate with the complete neglect of the city’s historical core. The proposed development strategies, that are part of an unclear plan, claim to seek the development of the area in a manner that enables it to perform its strategic role as a major center for business and housing, with an emphasis on the need to preserve historical, cultural, and architectural value. Yet, the ongoing works in the heritage site present the area as a fragment of the past for tourists to consume, completely disregarding those who are behind the city’s survival over the past decades: the foreign workers.

The research examines the current situation in Al Balad, Jeddah, looks at case studies that have tackled restorations of heritage sites as well as attempts to create a national identity for the locals. The aim is to determine the medium and the methodology through which the soul of the city could be potentially retrieved.

The project is an attempt to follow an alternative unconventional approach that is focused on space rather than buildings, on the soul of the area and the neighborhood; so instead of mummifying the bodies, it opts for the “reincarnation” of the collective soul of the neighborhood.

This can only be done by working on the spaces and the public programs and the human factor who are the residents.

The design stresses on the concept of tissue and fabric because it is problematic to stress the sculptural, free-standing, autonomous entities, at the expense of the fabric & the tissue. Therefore, the method consists of working on the external spaces, stressing the public over the private, the exterior, the open and the leftover, consequently the soul rather than the bodies.

This approach is appropriate because it allows to work with something not traditional or bound to existing buildings, without compromising any of the existing structures or their identity and historical value. The outcome is a social hub that consists of indoor and outdoor functions which serve mainly the current community.

Instagram: @baraaalali, @ard_aub

Architecture As Actant for Protest: Solidarity with Amiskwaciwâskahikan’s (Edmonton) Unhoused Community by Robert Maggay, M.Arch ’22
Laurentian University | Advisor: Aliki Economides

Conditioned by neoliberal imperatives and settler colonial impositions of ‘property’, architecture is complicit in upholding spatial and social inequities. The neologism ‘houselessness’ foregrounds housing as a human right, which must be addressed through the provision of accessible housing, yet this process is slow. Moreover, unhoused individuals are disproportionately affected by pandemics. Their aggravated health risks owe to crowded shelters, comorbidities, and pandemic-related restrictions of supportive services. While COVID-19 has worsened the pre-existing houselessness crisis, some immediate effects may be addressed locally through mutual aid: a form of rapid response and community care that demonstrates both the need for bottom-up solutions and interim approaches to houselessness. This thesis explores how architecture might challenge existing frameworks of power to act in solidarity with houseless neighbours. The series of design interventions proposed for Edmonton, Alberta, focus on socio-spatial relationships – related to water, sanitation, and hygiene – that act in solidarity with houseless people.

This thesis draws from various interviews with local mutual aid volunteers who work to address the immediate needs of houseless neighbours. Based on these interviews, a series of architectural program pairings were established to satisfy two functions: to improve upon existing site uses, and to embed programs and functions that address limited access to water, sanitation, and hygiene facilities for houseless people. The political forces in public space and architecture limit the ways in which houseless neighbours engage with the built environment, such as the enforcement of property, displacement, security and police, and people who are less sympathetic to the experience of houselessness. An understanding of an ontological violence facing houseless neighbours is the primary driver for this research. This thesis explores the design of a public amenity building that co-locates café, bike repair shop and laundromat programming while embedding functions that mitigate harm among houseless neighbours and their limited access to water, sanitation, and hygiene facilities. Through this proposal, access to washrooms, bathing facilities, laundry machines, day use lockers, public phone rooms and places of respite from extreme weather conditions are explored.

Instagram: @robertmyguy, @aliki.economides

Check back next week for Part V of the Study Architecture Student Showcase.