The act of creating architecture is a fairly unique process and the manner in which you learn how to think both creatively and technically is a skill that requires certain training and nurturing to develop. When young and eager architects in training head off to college, this development will take place in the architecture studio. This is a topic that – shockingly - we haven’t pointedly discussed on the podcast before and today, that is going to change. Welcome to Episode 169: Architecture Studio

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I’m excited to dive into a conversation that centers on the architecture studio—a pivotal experience in any architecture student’s life. I get a lot of questions about how studio differs from traditional classes like structures or history, and how it transitions into the real world of practice. In the upcoming discussion, Andrew and I will explore how studio life shapes a student’s creative mindset, sets the tone for collaboration (and sometimes competition), and can either inspire a lifelong passion or push someone to walk away entirely. Drawing on my own experiences and numerous inquiries I’ve received over the years, I want to shine a light on the essential lessons and challenges that make studio the heart of an architect’s education—and, ultimately, guide how we thrive once we leave the academic environment.

All-Nighters jump to 04:26

When we started discussing the concept of all-nighters in architecture school, I was reminded of just how universal that experience is - or at least was when we were in college. Whether you’re pulling your very first late night as a new architecture student, or reminiscing about it decades later, the all-nighter stands out as singularly stupid rite of passage—one that I believe can (and should) be avoided. Not because I don’t value hard work, but because I don’t think anyone produces their best ideas at 3:00 am, most likely just a continuing marathon session in the studio that started hours previously. Time management, especially for younger students, is often a serious challenge. We’re learning how to generate designs, how to collaborate, and how to gauge how long things will take. That last part trips up almost everyone (but to be fair, this is something that takes YEARS to get a grip on...)

Still, part of the appeal—and the chaos—of studio is that it’s a highly social place. I remember plenty of late nights where conversation drifted from design critiques to philosophical debates about architecture and back again. Those interactions were frequently more illuminating than formal lectures, because there’s an energy in a room full of tired, passionate, slightly delirious architecture students. Unfortunately, that reality today is different. Technology has enabled students to work wherever they want, which is more convenient, but it also fragments the collaborative spirit that was once a hallmark of studio culture. While I have never been on the all-nighter bandwagon, I feel like there is something missing when students pack up their tools (or in most cases, fold their computers closed) and retreat to their dorms and apartments to complete their assignments

Last Minute Changes jump to 13:05

I strongly believe that last-minute changes often create “negative work”- which is effort that doesn’t actually help you finish your project. It’s tempting to keep designing if that’s your passion, but in school (and in the professional world), you need to set realistic deadlines and work backward to decide how much time to devote to each phase. If you don’t leave enough time for making models or preparing drawings, you’ll end up with amazing ideas that you can’t effectively present. I’ve seen students come to critiques with almost nothing pinned up, talking about what they intended to do, and as someone sitting there looking at your finger pointing at some scribbles telling me what you were going to do, I can assure you that nobody cares and you are wasting everyone's time. In a real work environment, you simply wouldn’t get away with that, so it’s best to practice being prepared now.

We spent some time discussing that a bad presentation alone won’t sink your entire grade. Your professors have seen your work and know the effort you’ve put in throughout the semester, and reviewers like me are only seeing a small snapshot. If you forget to mention something or someone on the panel doesn’t like your concept, it doesn’t erase everything you’ve done. What truly matters is that you have tangible deliverables to show, back up your design decisions, and demonstrate that you respect everyone’s time by being ready. That professionalism will serve you well long after you leave school.

Jury Reviews jump to 20:17

Many architecture students have the wrong idea about jury reviews. They usually see them as a chance to show off their designs and soak up a few pearls of "wisdom" from guest jurors. In reality, the real benefit is the chance to practice your communication skills under pressure. Standing in front of a group of people—faculty, visitors, guest jurors, and classmates - and presenting yourself as the expert on your own project is an essential experience. You need to know how to speak with confidence, explain your objectives and strategies, and persuade the room that what you’ve created is both purposeful and well thought out. In my own career, I wish I’d learned sooner that the ability to communicate effectively often outweighs raw design talent in professional settings.

Another thing I’ve noticed is that many aspiring architects believe that “good design sells itself.” That just isn’t the case. Clients usually aren’t architects and they need concepts broken down in a way that’s easy to understand and relate to. Mastering that skill—framing design decisions around a client’s priorities, illustrating how different solutions address different needs, and avoiding academic jargon - can make the difference between a brilliant idea that never gets built and a successful project. Ultimately, the jury review isn’t just about receiving criticism or praise; it’s about refining your ability to convey why your work matters. That skill will keep you at the table, land you more opportunities, and set you up for lasting success in the field.

Portfolio Lifespan jump to 27:14

Architecture portfolios have a finite lifespan—about three years for most people. When you’re still in school preparing to graduate, or within the first couple of years of working, you rely heavily on your portfolio to help you find meaningful employment. It showcases your academic projects and convinces employers you have the basic skills to function in a professional environment. But once you’ve been out of school for around five years, a portfolio full of old class assignments loses its credibility. Employers want to see real-world experience by that point, and they’ll question why you’re still showcasing studio projects. In my own practice, I see it as a red flag when someone with years of experience only has schoolwork to share.

Another issue I’ve noticed is that students often misunderstand what people like me look for in a portfolio. Many schools have their students work on identical or team-based projects, so reviewers end up seeing the same design brief interpreted by multiple candidates. If all your work is team-based, I can’t know if you did the renderings, the diagrams, or came up with the concept. What I can evaluate is how you designed the pages of your portfolio—your layout choices, typography, and how you’ve organized the information. That’s why I stress that students think carefully about the entire presentation. In the end, if your early-career portfolio captures your ability to communicate visually and you retire it once you’ve gained real work experience, you’ll be in good shape.

The role of an architectural portfolio is critical to help formulate a path for students, and as a result, this is a topic that has been touched on a few times here. A dedicated podcast Episode 60: The Perfect Portfolio which touches on the aspects of a portfolio, and then there was the systematic breakdown of one of my favorite portfolios of all time from former employee and current all-star Danielle Anderson which can be found here:

http://lifeofanarchitect.com/architectural-portfolios/

Hard Work is Easy to See jump to 31:48

I believe that you can spot genuine hard work a mile away. In my experience, there’s a world of difference between someone who’s actually putting in the hours—growing, learning, improving—and someone who’s just trying to appear busy. The truth emerges when it’s time to present or pin work on the wall. Suddenly, all those superficial efforts collapse, and you can tell who’s really committed to their craft. It’s not about pulling all-nighters or loudly proclaiming how much you “live and breathe architecture.” If you’re sleeping in class and bragging about how you never stop, it won’t take long for everyone—your professors, your peers, even future employers—to see through it.

I often share a personal anecdote about my daughter, who is currently preparing for grad school. She’s extremely intelligent, but what I want her to remember is that hard work will always trump raw talent. My father used to say he’d rather have a diligent worker than a supposed superstar, and it’s something I’ve carried with me my whole life. You can be the smartest person in the room, but if you don’t apply yourself, it won’t matter. That’s why I encourage her with the mantra, “You are better, so be better” - embrace the talents you have and back them up with genuine effort. I’ve seen students who flip the switch from simply doing enough to get by, to pushing themselves to reach their full potential. That’s when real growth happens, and that’s when your work ethic becomes unmistakable.

The Big Idea jump to 35:57