The Design Studio, Models of Creativity and the Education of Future Designers

What I read

In this text, the authors consider the relationship between the history of the design studio and objectivity in the design education process, and the relationship between a romantic perspective of creativity and a rational approach.

The authors begin by describing how a design studio is considered a fundamental part of current design education. They cite a number of designers claiming that importance, including Mark Wigley, an architectural critique, in saying that "everything is organized around the design studio as it should be." But the actual definition of a design studio is difficult to formalize, and while some view the studio positively, there are also a number of critiques of the studio experience, describing it as clannish, separating a designer from the world around them, and promoting a single form of thinking.

They then focus on the history of design and architecture. In a master/apprenticeship model, boys learned, over seven years, how to gain skills in a particular aspect of design. They then spent several more years moving from place to place to learn additional approaches ("journeymen".) Beaux-Arts, and the idea of an atelier, then began to replace this model, and introduced the first idea of a studio. In this model, students worked around, but not necessarily with, a master, and discussion and debate about design occurred naturally by those engaged in the process. There was little formal education, in the sense of planning or curriculum. Bauhaus was a rejection of that approach, in that it prescribed a very formal, methodical, and rational approach to learning. Technical training emerged, founded upon the apprenticeship's ideas of "observation, repetition, and demonstration." A student would work in both in architecture office, as well as in an educational context.

The authors indicate that contemporary design studios take from a number of those ways of thinking, but there is no longer a formal or distinct model of studio; but "according to Ostwald and Williams, this very opportunity for interaction [with a professor, through feedback] is today seen as the fundamental benefit of the studio experience, more so than the physical environment." They indicate that studio is diminishing, however, perhaps because of the lack of actual physical space, and due to the increased quantity of students. Students are prioritizing their job rather than their education, and "the individualistic nature of studio culture and the focus placed upon complex, heuristic activities suggest that assessment of students' work inevitably becomes subjective." The authors focus on this subjectivity for the remainder of their discussion.

To frame the subjective nature of creativity, the authors compare the romanticism of creativity (as far back as Plato) to the rational model—rejecting divine selection or a spiritual influence—as presented by Aristotle. Romanticism prevailed for a long period of time, but the Renaissance challenged that, emphasizing knowledge, training and education as a way to become creative or display creativity. The authors view that this shift identified a creative person as "being a genius," and that creativity could be individually owned. This is the basis of the present-day view of creativity.

The authors return to modern design studio, where a romantic view of ordained creativity remains, even while apprenticeship or more formal curriculum still exist, and a "holistic approach that reflects the rationalist model of creativity dominates." The persistence of the romantic idea of creativity introduces subjectivity, and that is often seen in architectural contexts through juries and critique panels. These forms of assessment are typically entirely subjective, and student work is graded without criteria. This is problematic because the modern university focuses on "quality assurance standards for teaching and learning," and value the emotional satisfaction of students. Students feel stressed when they receive subjective feedback, and since creativity is viewed as overly subjective, the design studio concept is challenged, as it now "emphasizes quality assurance, transparence, and objectivity."

What I learned and what I think

There's a huge difference to the "design studio" that existed in Bauhaus, to the one my teachers experienced, to the one I experienced, and so-on. If there actually is a design studio today in the physical and cultural way I think of, it lives in a totally different political context in a university, and it's colored by what the authors have described, almost exactly: by what I would describe as a pursuit of "fairness."

Students want (need?) to see a fair return on their investment in their own skills and growth, and they want (need?) to see a fair way in which they were assessed, and they want (need?) to see that they received a fair amount of time with the teacher. There's a really strange relationship between that expectation of fairness and their lack of ability to make things that are really any good, by definition of being a student; and in their lack of ability to separate their feelings of worth from the things they made. And this is further confused by the lack of training that educators get; the probability that an educator is going to mimic what they learned (or think they learned) about how a studio environment works; and the emphasis they will somewhat naturally place on the thing that was made rather than the process that was used to make it. And throw in giant classes, where face time between an instructor and a student becomes smaller and smaller, and add in all of the realities of needing a job in order to live and eat and raise a family, and you get a mess.

It's clear the system is jacked. We can only pull on small levers to impact change. I wonder what a studio would look like if we solved for the relationship between nostalgic studio learning, and they purported need for fairness. Ignoring the "life isn't fair" part of the conversation which, at least for the thought exercise is not very useful, and if I only focus on things in my control, I can…

First, I probably need to split out what "fair" wants and needs are, at least from the perspective of a student who is being somewhat rational (a fair view of fair…)

Receiving an amount of attention commensurate with the amount they paid for the education. This manifests as the obnoxiousness of calculating how much every minute of teaching costs, which students have proudly told me before as a way of showing how bad their teachers are. They are looking for a fair trade, because the perspective is that I'm buying something, and the something is most obviously (to them) time with someone who knows what they are doing.

Hearing and understanding why they received indicators that they did a good or bad job. The indicators are typically grades or verbal or written assessment. This is maybe a branch off "receiving attention" but it's a certain kind of attention—a demarcation of key points of attention that appears more formal. I don't think it's "fair" to expect to actually agree with either the criteria for assessment or the results of it, but it's extremely reasonable to understand both.

Learning from someone who knows how to do whatever it is that they are teaching other people to do. There's pretty much zero chance of a fair ROI if you never actually are presented with the ideas, concepts, skills, experiences, that make up the topic.

Learning from someone who knows how to teach. If you are going to a place called a "school" or "university" or "college" and taking a "course" or "class" it's completely reasonable to expect to be "taught things."

Learning in an environment that is appropriate for the learning. Environment is loose here, and it's a good overlap on studio; a physical place where the work can be done, a cultural place that fosters the work, the equipment necessary to do the work.

There are some clear fairness collisions; the largest are: a) it is not fair to expect to gain skill and competency, or to actually improve, or to get a job, or to receive a financial return on an investment. That's one of the largest mismatches I've seen in modern design education—that there are what I remember being called "points for effort." This is where education starts being a handshake or contract or commitment or whatever other terms are used by professors. And, b) it's not fair to expect employment after school. The job market is entirely out of the control of anyone involved in the college or university.

Back to the article, and I'm far afield of studio-specific thoughts here, I think the conclusion from the authors is only partially indicative of the work to do. The subjectivity they are describing is at the heart of the fairness issue for only one of the main fairness issues—the clearness of the indicators of assessment, both in the criteria and results. And that's really less about the subjectivity of grading; it's more about the clarity of the subjectivity.

The ones that really stand out to me, though, are the expectations that you are learning from someone who knows the subject matter, and from someone who knows how to teach it. These seem so simple, but the institution is really at odds with both of these. Adjunct professors in design often come from industry, and know their work. Why should they know how to teach, if no one ever showed them? Professors in Universities get tenure for research, and many I know don't want to teach at all, so they don't know either part. And the schools where you might encounter a full-time craftsperson who has learned, either directly or indirectly how to actually teach, are typically art schools that pay so little that the professors end up hating the institution.

I think I'm maybe pushing at the walls of "studio" here. I will ponder where these issues of fairness overlap with the broadness of studio, and I want to think more about what is somewhat changeable and what is fairly immutable. A further thought. You only really get to a place where fairness is even worth talking about when you get to the cost of education being so ridiculous as to cripple someone's ability to live for long after their college experience. In many ways, one answer really is back to the 1:1 master/apprentice approach, because it's the only way to make the education even somewhat affordable.