Me then and me now
Image: Chek Lap Kok airport Hong Kong courtesy of Foster & Partners
Improving as a designer after architecture school
David called me into a design meeting at the last minute. He said, "Trust me, you'll enjoy this", so I followed him into the conference room. There were sixteen people present, and I discovered we were to review the design of the roof of a significant new UK railway station. David grinned, "We're the experts here. Everyone else is doing this for the first time".
He was referring to the time we spent working on a similar roof design for the new airport in Hong Kong. "You do realise that was thirty years ago?" I sighed in response, remembering. The roof team comprised a small group of young architects and engineers. We were surprised to be left alone to develop such an enormous, complex project. We thought someone much older with vast experience would arrive to lead us - a Yoda character to provide us with all the airport roof wisdom that we needed. But nobody ever came, and we had to find our way as best we could with our limited experience.
The railway station review resulted in more work, and this caused me to search through my sketchbooks and drawings from those distant Hong Kong days. Examining the work you did long ago is a strange experience; it felt almost as if someone else had done it. As I thumbed through the drawings, I re-lived the exploratory studies I'd made - initially as loose free-hand sketches using marker pens on yellow trace, then, as the design developed, with fine fibre tips to capture the detail. Finally, I transferred the design information to computer drawing software, a helpful innovation given that the roof was 1.6 kilometres long. Looking at those drawings, I could sense what I knew and didn't know. I could see how far my expertise had developed and spot the errors that would later need correcting in tense meetings with contractors during construction. It was a real insight into what we did and who I was then.
The drawings also triggered memories of my teammates like Jo, with her meticulous attention to detail; David, with his extensive practical knowledge; and Kate, with her ability to produce exquisite hand sketches of complex geometries in three dimensions. As for me, I was the idea generator, known for having more paper in the waste basket than on the desk. Together, we pushed and supported each other and created a culture that nurtured high-quality design. We shared design solutions we'd found elsewhere. We gave each other feedback and were not shy about saying what we thought. We never stopped debating the illusive quality of good design. What is it? How do you produce it? Who is good at it? They were good times.
Looking back at how my design skills accelerated during that period and at other times since then, I could join the dots between me then and me now. I pondered the factors which resulted in dramatic progress in my design abilities and concluded there were three themes:
Doing design work on real projects for clients with time and budget constraints.
With people who act as design mentors, pushing you towards new ideas and skills and providing feedback on successes and failures.
In a culture that promotes high-quality design through constant sharing and debate.
When I ask early-career architects what they would do to improve their design skills, they usually have a different view to mine. They cite a range of other ideas, such as having diverse interests and being creative in other subjects, travelling extensively to understand how people live in different cultures, and seeking inspiration from exhibitions, talks and architectural field trips.
These are excellent suggestions, and there are plenty more. However, they tend to focus on self-help activities while avoiding more difficult-to-control external factors. It may seem obvious to suggest that you must design things to improve your skills. But it can be surprising how many architects in their first years after architecture school receive very few design opportunities. If you lack design experience on live projects, you must do something about it. Request it, demand it, and find ways to increase the chances of opportunities coming your way. If it doesn't work and you're serious about being a better designer, you should consider moving to a company that will provide design opportunities.
Finding the right design mentors can be difficult. Sometimes you're lucky, as I was in Hong Kong, and the right people are close at hand. Other times, you have to go further afield in search of them. Without a design mentor, you won't be pushed into new territory, your ideas and methods will stagnate, and any plan for your future development will be limited and ad hoc at best. Work hard to find your people.
If your organisation's culture is not conducive to high-quality design, you should see this as an opportunity to improve things. Your involvement in improving the culture could be the catalyst for finding the right design opportunities and design mentors. Focus on this aspect, and you may get what you need in the other two.
Do real design work. Find a design mentor or two. Immerse yourself in a high-quality design culture.