At the heart of architectural education is this thing called studio. It's a physical space, a way of teaching and learning, and a shared culture. 

At Carleton University, the studio spaces are big, open, and informal, with lots of natural light. "They're workshops, not classrooms," says Associate Professor Paul Kariouk. 

They contain large tables where groups of four to six students can work on projects, sitting side-by-side with classmates. They chat, compare notes, and share ideas.

"Studio culture involves understanding that even tasked with the same project, everyone will interpret it differently," says Kariouk. "It's about learning other ways of working from your peers. It makes you understand that people have different values that are equally credible." 

Three times a week, students attend four-hour studio classes. "Everyone has to be physically there," says Assistant Professor Catherine Bonier. "It is a group process. They learn from each other as well as from us."

The desk crit

While students are busy at their workspaces, the professors are circulating and having one-on-one discussions with them in a process known as a "desk crit."

Professors check on the progress of an assignment, helping students work through problems. They offer suggestions and steer them to relevant case studies and precedents.

"You're getting very personalized feedback and constructive criticism," says Kariouk. "Like studying music or fine arts or medicine, you have professors working with you very closely one-on-one. It's like a private tutorial that goes on through your education.”

"Doing it over and over"

Instructors base studio assignments on hypothetical projects, for example, a building like a school or a library. The learning process involves constant revision.

"Studio culture is always a culture of making and making things iteratively," says Bonier.

"Whether it's pencil drawing or digital modeling, or photoshop collaging, you're making a product that is a version of an earlier product, maybe in a different media," she says. "You may be photographing it. You may be 3D modeling it. You're building an accretion of products that transform with each iteration." 

Last year, Bonier assigned her three-year master's students to design a National Archive of Canadian Environments.

The students went to the proposed site, studied the context, took photos, and sketched key elements. They also built a site map with topography lines.

Back in studio, they created models and drawings (hand and digital), exploring how to accommodate the building functions and the needs of its occupants and visitors.

Week after week, they kept revising their work and making new versions.

"A huge part of studio is doing it over and over again," says Kariouk. "It's like trying to teach someone piano or dance. You'll never get it right the first time."

Pinups

As regularly as once a week, students pin up the most recent iteration of their project for everyone to see and discuss as a group.

Typically, students print their work on large sheets of paper and hang them on the studio or school walls. Sometimes, they show their work on a computer or projector screen.

"We're teaching them to criticize each other's work," says Bonier. "How do you talk positively and politely and also ask questions of your peers?"

It's not about evaluating an individual's work. It's about sharing successes and challenges and pushing the project forward.

"A pinup is never a final work," says Kariouk. "It's an in-progress work. It's the latest iteration and assumes there will be many more. It's the process that is hugely important."

Virtual studio

With the university is closed because of COVID-19, studio has moved online. Students virtually pin their work on Figma. They participate in class discussions on Zoom and huddle in its breakout rooms.

"Studio culture does exist online," says Bonier.

Readers: What’s your experience of studio?