Architecture has numerous approaches, with each strategy and approach unique in its application. However, every application of design follows its own set of rules. These rules assume many forms, but they are commonly associated with standardized building codes and requirements, as well as general compositional understandings. They may also relate to the physical attributes of the location, any zoning or set back requirements necessary, or they may also be a matter of how you dress the exterior of the building.

            These rules may seem limiting and cumbersome at first, and breaking them may seem highly appealing. Their existence however is pivotal to the creation of a compelling design. They influence the process of design, from initial mental formulations and inquisitions, all the way through to physical manifestations. A formal set of constraints in this manner prevents an overwhelming amount of freedom. This ‘freedom’ of design typically leads to poorer quality designs that forgo contextual necessities and becomes a disruptive element.

            For these reasons and so many more, rules are important…except for when they are not and should be broken. It is a fine line between breaking a rule because the architect finds it bothersome, and because the design is better off without it. I have come to deem rule breaking as permissible only after exploring and researching all other avenues. I walk the line between good and bad rule breaking on a regular basis in my design studios, and have experienced the tangible side effects of these efforts.

            The procedure of analyzing rules and understanding the historical context of the project is indicative of the nature of theoretical architecture. The analysis of this context provides the inspiration and constraints for the realization of design. As such, the conclusion of this research, a fully practical element of architecture, is the product of an original theory, thus demonstrating the entangled relationship between theoretical and practical architecture.

            Architectural theories stem from individual or group beliefs about design, specifically about a set of people agreeing upon one way of thinking about, and executing architecture. My few successful attempts at design have all begun by analyzing architectural theories, or at the very least- a key idea, and carrying that throughout every aspect of the design, from grand gestures to miniscule details. A theory is the beginning, it is the concept that drives design, and provides you with a set of rules or guides to follow.

            From this starting point, every design attempt I make goes through a series of hand drafting, sketching, and modeling. The product is refined and revitalized constantly throughout the process until I am confident enough to begin digitizing my ideas using architectural software such as Rhinoceros 5.0, an intuitive three-dimensional modeling program. It is at this stage that I have stepped into the ‘doing’ of the process, pulling away from the initial theorization and conceptualization.

            This moment defines my transition towards the practical side of architecture as I begin to realize the dimensions of the project. It is here that I find myself fully understanding what I am creating as I see it realized in easily manipulated three dimensions. It is easy at this point to get lost in the model and forget the true intentionality of the design. As such, I constantly need to remind myself of where I began, what theory or idea inspired me, lest I begin to lose my initial strong intent and become lost in the minutia of design. In this way, architectural theory is key to the design process and to the transition towards practical architecture.

            As I begin to resolve my design, I move into a less-diagrammatic digital tool called Revit. It is here that I finalize the size and scale of the project, flush out details like structural joints, the make up of walls and floors, and even go so far as to add detailed hand railings to stairs. These may seem like either obvious or ridiculous things to think about depending on your background, but for me they are simultaneously both. The obvious being ‘of course stairs need hand rails’ and the ridiculous being ‘do I really have to put in hand rails?’

            As I design grand gestures and concentrate on the concept of the project, it is easy to forget or forgo the small details, and to brush them off as something for the engineers to deal with. That was my mindset when I first began designing ‘real’ buildings, and it was horribly wrong. I now understand that I need to address and understand all aspects of my projects, both big and small if I am to consider it as a successful attempt. Only then can that attempt become a fully realized project, completing the transition from theoretical to practical.

            This relationship between the theoretical and the practical has been the driving theme of this process as I attempt to unravel my progression and understanding of both topics. This paper and its accompanying elements seeks to display and analyze a procession of my work from the past four years and to convey that process through this essay and its companion piece, a three-dimensional sculpture to be the physical manifestation of this process and product.

            Both topics, theoretical and practical, develop individual narratives through the collection of a series of personal artifacts. These narratives will tell the story of my on-going education in architecture and design with specific artifacts used as supporting evidence for each narrative. As such, I have paired selected artifacts, with each individual artifact communicating either the theoretical or the practical through its nature and my emotional connection to it.             Together, they show two specific moments within my architectural career that illustrate and connect similar themes. Each moment connects to its partner, its respective narrative, and my own personal understanding of its theme’s influence on architecture.

            I have spent the past four years learning how to think about design, learning how to design, and learning how to complete a project. Each pair of artifacts directly reflects this process as my understanding of architecture and design has developed.