AIArchitect

Or will it free designers to enrich the creative process?

I heard an interesting remark recently from a fellow architect regarding building information modeling (BIM).

"BIM will be the death of design," was the charge. "It will turn us from architects into technicians."

Well, I think we've all heard this kind of charge before, such as … when sustainability became a driving design issue, when CAD hit the marketplace, at the advent of the Rapid-o-Graph … keep on going. The answer, essentially, and to me, is that technology will never overcome human creativity (that last weird part of 2001, A Space Odyssey, aside).

BIM is just a tool—it's the software that allows planners, designers, manufacturers, constructors, and owners to work from the same object-related database. By that, I mean that every door has its specifications attached to its plot on the plan/elevation (they're one and the same, this is integrated 3D). Every window, chair, fume hood, whatever, has ordering, delivery, installation, and maintenance—full life-cycle—information embedded in the database. The "modeling" part of building information modeling means that we can run testing sequences against the whole building: its performance, constructability, cost—you name it.

So: with all this detailed information, will BIM transform architects into technicians? No! Much of the valuable data in a building information model is behind the scenes, available to the appropriate stakeholder at the appropriate time. Decisions can be more informed because of these data, but decisions don't necessarily have to be more complex or detailed. Think of it as designing by building—virtually. I can place objects in the model and they can be fluid ... at once specific and generic, changeable on the fly. I don't have to nail all the parameters at the get go. But the richness of the data allows the model to be testable, and this is truly valuable to a designer. Imagine a world where designers can understand the ramifications of their decisions at the time the decisions are made. That world is now.

Work today is more complex, and technology is simply making that complexity part of the normal working environment. Through the increased efficiencies and effectiveness of BIM as a tool, and especially if leveraged through collaborative delivery models like Integrated Practice, architects can attain higher profiles, produce more work in a richer environment, and buildings will go up with more precision and higher quality to the benefit of all.

What do you think?

Reading this issue of AIArchitect, a number of things come to mind. Tom Fisher talks of the greater responsibility that interns today will face in the near future as global warming and conflict become backyard issues here in the U.S. We already have real, deadly threats overseas and potential ones, including a looming influenza epidemic. And, yet, all of this—for the vast majority of people in this country—has some distance to it. Architects are renowned for their intuitive ability to step into the shoes of others and imagine a better future. So, what about these Swords of Damocles?

Most people who have had a close experience with a national or international news event are struck by how the everyday nuance that made so much sense yesterday—or wasn't really a matter of consideration—all of the sudden becomes the subject of intense scrutiny by millions of strangers.

To get some historic perspective, read the 1665 diary of Samuel Pepys—the year of the last great bubonic plague epidemic in London. Peppered among the man's droning on of daily business are the increasingly frantic and personal accounts of casualty figures, people fleeing the city, and relatives and friends afflicted and to be avoided. Then cool weather arrives, it's over, and everything returns to normal (until the Great Fire the next year, which gives Sir Christopher Wrenn his tragic yet great rebuilding opportunities). It's an immediately human perspective; not one remembered by the longer vision of history.

Focus now on the possibility of an influenza epidemic. Currently, we are reading stories about a series of micro concerns. We have a lack of hospital beds, we're told, a lack of vaccination capability, or—in the news section of this week's issue—a lack of force majeure provisions covering workforce-related project delays. All of these are certainly worthy of serious, serious consideration. But is it the best we can do given—in this one instance—the extreme suffering that a flu pandemic will (literally) bring home?

What do you think?

The Air Force dedicated its national memorial in Arlington, Va., on October 14. Along with the many distinguished veterans, service men and women of all rank, and elected and appointed officials in attendance were representatives of the design and construction team. Not there in body, however, but palpably present in spirit was the late James Ingo Freed, the project's principal designer.

Despite its stark simplicity, as one walks around the Air Force Memorial ground, Freed's well-known genius for geometric juxtoposition evokes thoughts of how the work was conceived, part by part. The feeling is very much like staring at a da Vinci pencil study—the immediacy of being so close to the creator that you can almost watch the drawing of each line and angle and anticipate their intended effect on the eye.

For those of us who are neither architects nor artists, there is also a sense of curiosity concerning the creative process. Is this closeness between designer and observer an intentional bridge into the creative process or a byproduct of the clarity and purpose of thought at its purest distillation? Thinking back years ago to a topping out ceremony at the Holocaust Museum just across the Potomac River, I could remember the basic emotions a walk through the building evoked even before exhibits were installed—initial feelings of curiosity that transformed into foreboding, claustrophobia, and an intense desire for escape. These, said Freed at the time, were intentional. He had left a part of himself there for those of us who followed to experience; to understand.

Another question follows, perhaps denied even by the creator's conscious self: Are buildings ever an architect's attempt to create a lasting personal legacy? Many architects have told me that such is not the case. Buildings belong first and last to the owners and users. The most important project is always the next one. But is it so bad to want one's own progeny of concrete, stone, glass, and steel? I wonder.

What do you think?

"Lethargy [is] the forerunner of death to the public liberty." - Thomas Jefferson

It is more than our right, it is our responsibility to vote; yes, even in midterm elections.

As anyone knows who has even casually been reading, watching, or listening to the news in past weeks, every vote will matter Tuesday, November 7. Control of the U.S. House of Representatives - possibly the Senate as well - is hanging in the balance between Republicans and Democrats.

How you vote is, of course, entirely your own business. But please, please, please get informed and get to the polls.

To that end, I offer a few thoughts:

The AIA has a Web site that is extremely easy to use and geared specifically to your interests: ArchitectsVote.org. You will find links to information on federal and state elections specific to you, including candidates' Web sites (which are a lot more informative than the signs that are probably popping up all over the roads and yards in your neighborhood).

A couple of other good, nonpartisan Web sites to visit include the League of Women Voters and National Association of Secretaries of State.

One last word, and I'll get down off the soap box: Encourage everyone you know to vote, too. Offer your employees extra time off, if you have that kind of pull. If you answer to someone else, ask. Either way, plan now on getting to your polling place. Make the commitment and JUST DO IT.

What do you think?