Ask an Architect

As the weather cools and summer winds down, a new season of social events is kicking off. At some point during the stretch between college homecomings and holiday parties, which will fill your living room with extended family in festive sweaters, you’re bound to meet someone who answers your polite “So, what do you do?” with something unexpected.

When you shake hands with your second cousin’s new fiancé at the town’s fall festival this year and he tells you he’s an architect, don’t panic. We ask you to resist the urge to blurt out the first stereotype that comes to mind and consider what this left-brained thinker might have to offer.

When you shake hands with your second cousin’s new fiancé at the fall festival this year and he tells you he’s an architect, don’t panic.

Instead of asking why we’re wearing all black, inquire about our accessories.

Granted, not every architect owns an all-black wardrobe, but we do have a peculiar affinity for blacks and grays. Once you’ve gotten over your initial shock that we appear more aptly dressed for a funeral than a festive social event, we hope you’ll notice that our monochrome outfit provides a great backdrop for our unique accessories.

We take time to ensure the things we own and wear represent our personalities, even the little things - brightly colored socks, an unconventional watch, bold glasses, statement jewelry. Ask us about any of these items and we’ll launch into the story of how we discovered it, whether from a cool new startup by our designer friend, or from the local shop you pass on your daily commute but never had a reason to step inside.

Bonus: You’ll get some great gift ideas for your friend who already has everything.

We hope you’ll notice that our monochrome outfit provides a great backdrop for our unique accessories.

Please don’t ask us if we know who Frank Lloyd Wright is (we do). Ask about the project you’ve been reading about in the news, or the construction site that affects your commute to work.

We don’t expect you to keep tabs on the portfolios of all the currently-practicing architecture firms but, we also know that you don’t really care about Frank Lloyd Wright, nor do you know anything about him besides his name.

Our profession is so much broader than what’s been relegated to the history books, and I can guarantee that some part of your built environment is currently affecting you. Ask us about it. We may be able to tell you something interesting about the new high-rise that just broke ground, explain why the construction site you pass every day is progressing too slowly for your liking, or give our opinion on the recently-installed contemporary art sculpture in your town hall’s front yard.

Bonus: Shiny glass skyscrapers are only one small part of what architecture is. Does it bother you that the neighborhood kids hang out in the grocery store parking lot instead of the playground? We might have some ideas you can take to your next community meeting.

Our profession is so much broader than what’s been relegated to the history books.

Instead of asking about the Empire State Building, ask where we take our out-of-town guests.

Every place has landmarks, whether it’s New York City’s Empire State Building or the still-standing home of your town’s founder that are documented as destinations you must see when visiting. There’s only one problem with these places: after you’ve visited once, you probably don’t have much interest in going back.

As architects, we gather research for new projects by paying attention to existing spaces all around us. We enjoy seeking out new places and are constantly on the lookout for inspiring designs. Ask us what our favorite places are and we’ll become a tour guide for your city of choice. Every art museum may seem the same to you, but we’ve probably visited our local museums frequently enough to tell you which is the best one to take your sister when she visits with her two young kids and which is better saved for a sophisticated date night. We can tell you about best-kept secrets like the top-floor conference room at the local hotel that offers fantastic views. And when we do talk about places you can find in travel guides, you’ll know that the ones we enjoy are the ones that are truly worth your time.

Ask us what our favorite places are and we’ll become a tour guide for your city of choice.

Instead of asking about work at all, ask about our favorite restaurants.

You may think it is unconventional to ask an architect about food, but as creatives, we share an appreciation for all kinds of other crafts (including music and art, so feel free to ask about those too). Plus, the experience of a restaurant isn’t exclusively about the food. When we go to a new restaurant, we’re taking note of the noise level, how crowded it is, how comfortable the chairs are, the level of service, the quality of lighting, and the overall atmosphere of the place -- all before our appetizers have arrived.

As such, we’re pretty good at distinguishing which cafe is private enough for meeting with a potential business partner. We can suggest a restaurant for your cousin’s birthday dinner that has bright enough lighting for your uncle who forgot his glasses to read the menu, and a number of entrees that are sure to please both your vegan in-law and allergy-ridden nephew. If you’re looking for a bar to meet up with a group of old college friends, we’ll suggest a place with great drinks and large enough tables for you to all pull up a seat and share stories from the good old days. I promise, we’ll also tell you which restaurants have great food.

Ask us about our passions (and don’t be surprised when we tell you architecture is one of them).

This could be a potential conversation starter for anyone, regardless of profession. We spend forty (or more) hours at our jobs every week, but they don’t consume our entire lives. At first, we may tell you that architecture is our passion. We wouldn’t dedicate so much of our lives to the profession if we didn’t legitimately enjoy it. But if you ask us what else we truly enjoy doing, we’ll happily tell you all about our family, friends, and hobbies.

Many famous architects are almost as well known for creative work on a much smaller scale. Remember our friend Frank Lloyd Wright? Not only did he design numerous well-known buildings, he also often designed the furniture that filled them and the stained-glass windows that decorated them. Tadao Ando was a boxer, Frank Gehry designs jewelry, Zaha Hadid debuted a line of shoes, Louis Kahn designed a boat made of concrete. Whether we’re telling you about playing in a softball league on weekends, or explaining how we generated the shape for the wooden frame of the glasses you asked about earlier, we’ll be so appreciative you expressed an interest in us, and not just our job.

Bonus: You might realize we’re not that different from you after all.

We spend forty (or more) hours at our jobs every week, but they don’t consume our entire lives.

5 + 5 after 5

Now that it is mid-summer and I have had a couple weeks to readjust to a normal sleep schedule after a particularly grueling final semester, I am able to reflect on how much I have learned, grown, and changed in the past five years. Instead of going back-to-school shopping this summer, I have been reminiscing about the things I will miss the most and the least about architecture school.

5 Things I’ll Miss About Architecture School

Spending (almost) unlimited time on the fun stuff

In the unrestricted realm of architecture school, where the term “budget” is only brought up in a handful of technology classes along with a disclaimer that “you’ll figure out what that is once you get to the real world,” devoting extra time to schematic design, conceptual thinking, and research is no big deal. In fact, if you are really ambitious (or have poor time management skills) you could end up presenting a final project that is purely schematic and there is nothing wrong with that. Devoting a few weeks each semester solely to research and conceptual design was one of the best parts of architecture school because 1) it was fun and 2) it was teaching us how to think abstractly and how to do it quickly so that once we got to the “real world” we could move efficiently through the schematic phases without wasting a firm or client’s time and money.

Devoting a few weeks each semester to conceptual design was one of the best parts of architecture school

Running headfirst into a design that was doomed for failure from the start

Learning to embrace failure is something we’re all taught from a relatively young age, and it is an especially prevalent lesson in the architecture studio. No matter how many times you hear someone tell you how important it is to learn from mistakes, nothing compares to a first-hand experience. I am sure many architecture students are familiar with the feeling of defeat when they realize they’ve spent countless hours developing a project only to hit a dead-end (that feeling is amplified if your professor knew you were headed for the dead-end all along but kept quiet and let you figure it out for yourself). Fortunately, mistakes like that are relatively easy to recover from while you’re still in the safety net of school. Instead of carrying repercussions, they keep us on our toes and teach us to avoid similar mistakes in the future.

No matter how many times someone tells you to learn from mistakes, nothing compares to a first-hand experience

The obscure habitat of the studio

When I was in high school, I dreaded college tours until I found a tour guide brave enough to walk me through the maze-like sea of desks in an architecture studio. The place was a mess, but I loved the idea that I could throw cardboard around and get a grade for it. In the five-year span of architecture school, it becomes almost impossible to define the studio as a classroom as it becomes more of a collective dorm room for a few dozen students (complete with hammocks, towers of empty coffee cups, and late-night relay races on office chairs). Granted, it cannot be healthy to spend more hours per week at a desk under buzzing fluorescent lights than in the apartments we were all renting, but the camaraderie we established couldn’t be replicated in any other environment.

it becomes almost impossible to define the studio as a classroom as it becomes a collective dorm room for a few dozen students

Always having someone around to lend a hand

Building off that, the thing I will definitely miss the most is being constantly surrounded by so many different but like-minded people. In a graduating class of sixty students, we all formed some close friendships that will undoubtedly continue for years to come, but there are so many people with whom we formed temporary friendships and alliances even though we will most likely fall out of touch with them. Sometimes the best people to have around were the ones who came running when you needed an extra set of hands as your half-glued model was falling apart or those who kept up everyone’s morale at 2am by assuming the role of studio DJ.

there are so many people with whom we formed temporary friendships and alliances

Continually learning

There is always one class each semester that seems like a waste of time, and instead of focusing on learning about humanities we find our anxiety building as we watch the clock until we can go back to the studio and continue working on our design project. The required core design course can easily become all-consuming, but fortunately, electives, minors, and semesters abroad exist to provide relief from the constant grind of studio. Of course, I will continue looking for chances to keep learning throughout my career, but it will never be quite as simple as signing up for a photography class because it sounded fun. 

fortunately, electives, minors, and semesters abroad exist to provide relief from the constant grind of studio

5 Things I Won’t Miss About Architecture School

20+ hour days and the delirium that follows

Without sleep, I completely lose my ability to function the next day. I managed to get through architecture school without pulling a true all-nighter, but I still put in my fair share of very late nights and very long days. I am looking forward to going through the next stage in my life without 1) going to bed sometime after the birds start chirping but just before the sun rises 2) confusing the words “today” and “tomorrow” when speaking about an 8am deadline while still working at 3am and 3) being on a first-name basis with my apartment’s overnight security guard because I came home so late and left for studio so early the following morning that the guards had not switched shifts.

Without sleep, I completely lose my ability to function the next day

Impossible assignments

The absolute worst thing a design professor can say is some variation of this: “OK guys, I just realized your crit is in eight days. We’re a little behind schedule. I need you to bring in three conceptual models at quarter scale, all representing different schemes of your parti. Make each one out of a different material. You’re not allowed to use glue. This is due at our next class along with a dozen diagrams explaining each model.” In five years, I never found anyone who could give me a reasonable definition for “parti” nor did I learn why the ability to put pieces of cardboard together without glue was a useful life skill.

nor did I learn why the ability to put pieces of cardboard together without glue was a useful life skill

Constantly being under a certain degree of stress

Some days it came in the form of responding to emails while rushing across campus trying to make it to a 5:00 meeting with the Dean after a class that was supposed to end at 4:45 ran a couple minutes late. Other days, it was carefully strategizing how to divide tasks for the group project that aligned with one person’s work schedule and another’s obscure class schedule. Learning to deal with stress is essential, but it is nice to know that the working world operates around a regular schedule and has two whole days each week that are all yours.

the working world operates around a regular schedule and has two whole days each week that are all yours

The fishbowl-like social environment

I think this applies to anyone’s college experience, not just the architecture studio. As much as it was incredibly valuable to be surrounded by the same relatively small group of unique but like-minded people as we grew from shy freshmen into career-ready graduates, I am grateful for the chance to widen my social network a bit. Some days you do not want to feel like people are watching over your shoulder as you struggle with a new design challenge, you might not want to participate in the lunch conversation about a recent exam, and you’d rather not be kept up late at night by partying neighbors. I am eager to explore the world beyond our campus’ boundaries.

I am grateful for the chance to widen my social network a bit

Super-glued fingertips and other nuisances

Sure, a lot of design work is done on the computer nowadays, but there is a lot of value in drawing and building models by hand sometimes. While that is my favorite part of the design process, I have had a few unfortunate run-ins with Xacto blades, lost my fingerprints to super glue more times than I can count, and spent the better part of the last five years with a graphite-grey palm from smudged drawings. I think my hands are thankful that I have finally put down the pencil and picked up a diploma last month.

I think my hands are thankful that I have finally put down the pencil and picked up a diploma last month

A New Logo

After many intra-office discussions, we decided to codify our thoughts, aspirations, + interests before embarking on a logo redesign.  Armed with Brand Deck, we devoted a working session to what we are, what we are not, + what we want to become.

To understand the history of our logo is to know our history.  From humble beginnings to …

1993-1996: PJA Architecture began in 1993 when our founding principal established Phillip Jordan Architects in the attic of his house.  From the outset, Phil recognized that the technological advances of the early 90’s would provide his one-man studio with the ability to offer quality architectural services to clients of all sizes.  To demonstrate the easily repeatable precision the computer allowed in drafting, Phil developed a logo that mixed geometry and line types/weights with ordering principals that the computer and pen-plotters could effortlessly reproduce.

1997-2002: Having laid a solid foundation for Phillip Jordan Architects, Phil knew that the company was now a recognizable brand within the sphere of his current clients and increasing staff.  The practice had grown during the initial years and it was time to revise the logo.  Phil wanted one that was bold, easily identifiable and continued to demonstrate the influence of the digital techniques, available at the time, in PJA’s workflow and design thinking.  An expressive font was chosen for the acronym of the company, a drop shadow added to the letters and five squares [in reference to the geometry of the initial logo] where rhythmically placed below the letters.  

2003-2004: By the early 2000’s, 3d renderings were becoming commonplace in the architectural process.  In keeping with the founding principles of the firm, Phil cultivated a culture of experimentation with the digital methods of the time.  The revised logo envisioned the PJA as solid red letters whose shadow was created by a light source that could be placed within the 3d space of a digital model.  The initial rendering was advanced by the standards at the time, but PJA was about to refine and master cutting edge rendering techniques.

2004-2012: Refining the previous logo was a priority given the increased capabilities of rendering software and hardware that PJA was beginning to acquire.  The background for the logo was imagined as a sphere that existed behind the letters and squares.  This gave PJA the opportunity to showcase the ray-tracing and complex illumination strategies of the rendering software.  The color of the letters was made bolder and the spot lights positioned to exaggerate the shadows and depth of the letters.

2012-2015: Having steered PJA through the difficult recession, Phillip Jordan Architects became PJA Architecture as Christian joined Phil as a principal of the firm.  In the process of weathering the tumultuous times, PJA became more lean and agile, and as a result the logo underwent minor revisions.  The red of the letters was made more uniform and the shadows given a stronger logic.  The paring down of the logo set the stage for what was to follow.

2015 – : With PJA becoming a recognizable part of the community and continuing to expand its client base, we sat down and discussed the state of the firm in terms of: what we are, what we are not, + what we want to be.  What followed were several months of deep, revealing discussions about the studio and our culture.  Countless iterations were studied, the last of which were refined with the input of a local graphic designer.  What we concluded was we wanted a logo that was bold, clean + ordered.  As Bruce Mao posited in his Incomplete Manifesto for Growth:

29.  Think with your mind. Forget technology. Creativity is not device-dependent.

We wanted a logo that was not driven by the technology or the software at the time, but rather the ethos of the firm.  The A of PJA retained the red as an homage to the founding company name and that it all began with Phil.  ARCHITECTURE took the place of the squares below the PJA and maintains the drop shadow that has been an important part of the logo for so many years.  The A of ARCHITECTURE is given color as well so that it appears to rise above the rest of the letters as an indication of where we believe we are heading.  After 22 years, we are looking forward to the future while remembering our history.