Teaching history for design at TU Delft: exploring types of student learning and perceived relevance of history for the architecture profession

Many fields of engineering argue that design is a future-oriented field, and that designers do not need knowledge of the technologies, tools, forms, or practices of the past. TU Delft, a technical university focused on creating the future, has continuously reduced the number of professorships in history and also courses on history; the Chair History of Architecture and Urban Planning remains a strong entity, but one with few counterparts in the other faculties. Yet architecture and urbanism remain fields where structures and theories from the past, references to the past, and reflections on the past all continue to play an important role. Existing urban and built forms, and established actor networks, are historical and cultural frameworks that shape new designs and influence technological developments. New construction needs to respond to the past in the form of existing landscapes, established design practices, and building laws. Designers themselves often “practice history,” that is, they turn to history for their work in the present; but they do not always consider the past on its own merits or create links between the historical analysis, their findings on the past and the design for the future.

Discussions of the content of history teaching and of textbooks used are underway among educations. But, so far, from what we have found, no analysis has been done on how students experience the teaching of architectural history in experiential learning, textbooks, or different types of pedagogy, and how they use what they learn in their own design practice. Teachers have positioned history in the design curriculum in multiple ways over time; now, with a growing number of global students, new technologies, and new economic and social challenges, it is time to revisit both the content of history teaching, briefly discussed here, and the educational perspective, at the core of this article.

The teaching of the history of architectural and urban form faces a number of interrelated pedagogical challenges. With the emergence of schools of architecture, pedagogical questions arose, for example, on the choice of historical content, the selection of textbooks, and more recently, methods of analysis. And changing architectural paradigms shaped historical education. For example, in 1949, when functionalist and ahistorical design replaced neo-historical styles and traditional building forms, Robert L. Anderson, Professor of Architecture at Clemson College (Anderson 1949) and his contemporary Turpin C. Bannister respectively called for a new curriculum and a new textbook of architectural history in the same issue of the journal. (Bannister 1949). Today, taught at design faculties, the history of architectural and urban form has evolved as a key to bridge the gap between existing, sometimes ancient buildings and environments, and future oriented design practice. Heritage professionals need historical knowledge to transform, adapt, and repair existing building and urban areas. Designers use historical examples as concrete inspiration for design. (Smith and Hein 2018). And architectural historians have again started to interrogate the content of what is being taught in architectural history classes. Taking a look just at the Journal of Architectural Education, we see a number of articles that explore both approaches to architectural history and the role of textbooks. Several authors underscore the shortcomings of current textbooks in terms of provoking critical thinking; they specifically point to the insufficient attention paid to the contributions of women and African Americans in the architectural sphere, and call for challenges to the leading canon (Kingsley 1988; Gürel and Anthony 2006). Other articles address the role of architectural history in teaching in a less Eurocentric way and focusing on cross-cultural exchange or the politics of architecture (Bozdogan 1999; Cohen 2006). Yet others insist on the need to study historical narratives and rethink their role in the discipline of architecture (Legault 1991; Upton 1991). These reflections also include debate on whether history should be taught as a linear chronology or as an “operative conception of the past” as Morgenthaler argues (1995, p. 221), without, however, querying what social and cultural assumption would be transmitted that way.

The focus of this debate is primarily on the methods of architectural and urban historians, and does not address student experiences and teaching practices. This paper takes a first step to address the ways in which forms of pedagogy—hands-on experience, reading, listening—affect student’s appreciation and understanding of historical facts and methods, and in turn the students’ design practice. It specifically explores how MSc Architecture students at Delft University of Technology learn about historical built form in courses taught under the purview of the Chair History of Architecture and Urban Planning. The Chair aims to teach historical understanding as well as analytical approaches and does so through large lectures classes (up to 400 students), smaller seminars (25–30 students), workshops (15–25 students) and studio education (6–12 students). Systematic analysis of the impact that specific formats have on teaching has not been done.

The paper interprets a series of questionnaires developed by the authors to get a better understanding of how students learn about historical built form, practices, tools, and values; and discern how (or if) they apply their findings to design. The paper further asks whether and how students reflect and or build on the relation between designing and history. The article starts by briefly discussing design education. The core of the text focuses first on the research method, discussing both the development of the questionnaire and its interpretation. In a second step, the article explores the results of engagement with the built environment, publications, or historical teaching in a design faculty. In the final section, the article draws conclusions on the implications of history education, suggesting next steps for rethinking the role of history in design education. In particular, it identifies threshold moments, or transformative moments of learning that are irreversible, integrative, and discursive; moments when deep and often difficult learning occurs. Understanding and facilitating various types of threshold moments—social and academic—for teachers as well as students is challenging in itself. (Hein and Abbot 2013).

A note on terminology: The research presented here focuses on architectural, urban, and landscape history in a design-school setting, but for readability uses the shorter notions ‘design’ and ‘history.’

Exploring the role of history in design education requires advanced understanding of the particularities of design education. For many centuries, teachers were themselves often professional designers, and they based their teaching on more or less explicit cultural and personal views of ‘good’ architecture and on their own experience of design education. For example, historical precedents played a great role in architectural design education at leading institutions such as the Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris in the 19th and early 20th century. For roughly the last half a century, inspired by the successes in scientific disciplines, researchers have taken a ‘scientific’ approach to architectural designing. Researchers thought the design process to be a process of analysis and synthesis: scientific knowledge and rules should decrease the designer’s reliance on intuition, (historical) types, and rules of thumb; and design methods should be systematised. But designers didn’t recognise themselves in this ‘rational design process.’ Design researchers such as Hillier and Schön pointed out that design problems are pre-structured by constraints and the designer’s own cognitive map. Rather than a ‘rational technology’, design is better described as a ‘reflective practice’ (Schön 1983, 1987) that proceeds by conjecture and analysis (Hillier et al. 1972). This increased attention to the particularities of design goes hand in hand with a changed view of the role of the historian and into historical research as interpretative and narrative based (Groat and Wang 2013).

Advanced understanding of design as research and of the shifting role of the historian raise questions about appropriate ways of teaching design and history in architecture schools, notably about the best ways to teach historical knowledge. Students have to learn to put a specific design situation in a broader context; to interpret ideas and concepts in their historic, socio-cultural context; to use, combine, interpret, and change common examples, ideas, principles, and patterns. They have to learn how to think critically and to reflect on possible solutions. Reflection is even more important in a society in which quantitative data seem to be the answer, without the accompanying arts and skills of seeing patterns and relations and of evaluating and valuing the data (see also De Bruckere et al. 2015). Building up a library of principles and patterns and learning how to analyse and interpret them are important parts of historical investigation as the questionnaires demonstrates. Education on the history of architecture and urban planning needs to take advantage of the most impactful ways of teaching.

To gain better understanding of the current role of history for students in design education, we conducted a pilot study in two courses at TU Delft: a 3 ECTS seminar called Building Green (about 25 students), and a 6 ECTS course, the History thesis, in which students write an individual research paper (about 150 students). We designed questionnaires to find out what and how students currently learn about architectural history and how they translate this knowledge into their design practices. Four sub-questions specifically asked (1) what historical buildings/urban environments inspire each student, (2) what written sources influence them, (3) which ways of teaching they found useful, and (4) in which way(s) they see history as meaningful to design.

Teachers handed out the questionnaires in the seminar and the thesis writing class running in spring 2016. Students wrote out answers to the first questionnaires by hand, but on encountering the difficulties of reading student handwriting, we switched to computerized questionnaires.

Overall, we received 133 questionnaires (numbered 1–133) back. In the Building Green, course 20 students handed in their questionnaires in week 1 and 14 responded in week 5. From different sections of the History thesis, 61 students handed in their forms, and 38 responded in week 5.

We analyzed the results of the questionnaires in two rounds, with four people adding coding (labels) with the help of the program ATLAS TI.

The entire investigation took place over a period of six months. During this period, the two authors, with the help of two research assistants,¹ distributed, gathered and transcribed the questionnaires and developed the labels. One research assistant helped us develop a first set of labels; the other tested the first set of labels using 40 questionnaires, and identified new labels. Ultimately, the labels (see Table 2) were defined in close relation to the main topics and the kind of answers. During the coding, we adjusted the labeling terminology to avoid overlapping and inaccuracy and to deepen our understanding of the answers. We aimed to identify and capture subtle differences in meaning, while acknowledging the subjectivity that underlies the coding activity.

We identified four categories and labeled them: INSPIRATIONS + ENLIGHTENMENT, SOURCES, TEACHING + LEARNING, and MEANING FOR DESIGN. Under the label inspirations we tried to used sub-labels to identify whether physical forms (of different scales), people, or socio-cultural values inspired students most and whether particular time-periods played a role. We used the term enlightenment in the second questionnaire to capture moments when student thinking changed across the term. Under the category sources we marked whether students showed a preference for assigned books or whether they chose their own readings, whether they preferred textbooks or manifestos. In the category teaching and learning, we looked at the importance of teaching strategies (including self-study) and people, and tried to elicit suggestions, comments, and criticism. Finally, we also identified and explored their definitions of the role of history in design, coding their answers as direct historical design concepts drawn from the past, history as a timeless toolbox for design, or the use of critical thinking skills as a means of using history.

We conclude that the physical experience of architectural and urban sites, of monuments and everyday environments (queried in question 1) plays an important role in student learning about history. Students are clearly inspired by visits and field trips, connecting these sites to their individual experiences (travelling, hometown and studio field trips, etc.). We find that assigned books are clearly important to students (the topic of question 2): whether or not they liked the book, it definitely influenced their thinking, including their design thinking. Written sources gained in importance for student understanding of historical facts and approaches after the course. Regarding the pedagogies in architectural and urban history education (question 3) we conclude that students clearly appreciate engaged teachers and more engaging and participatory pedagogical approaches. There also seems to be a relation between the form of the followed course and the preferred way of teaching. The conclusion seems to be an expected one: that a variety of teaching approaches are the best pedagogy and that students are eager to engage with critical thinking. Regarding question 4, the meaning of history for designing, we see that students evaluate history highly; they see it as important, but the relation between history and design is often rather general and unreflective.

The second round of questionnaires at the end of the course showed that taking the course has made a difference in students’ perception of the importance of historical knowledge and experience. Students’ learning becomes deeper and more reflective when a professor provides guidance in a course, for example, in studying a book, writing a thesis, or making a field trip. While this is not an unexpected conclusion, it is an important one. These questionnaires underscore the earlier finding that students are convinced of the importance of historical environments, and interested in understanding their specificities. Their response to historical environments is mostly spontaneous and unreflective. Some students have a wide range of experiences and understandings of history, historical text, and historic built environment. A few students understand history as ‘a hint of architecture development and future’ and appreciate critical perspectives.

Of course, the study has its limitations. For example, the return rate varied between courses. Students were much more responsive when they filled out the forms in class than when asked to email the forms. Another limit may be in the process of labeling. We tried to stay as close as possible to the findings, but to a certain extent it is always a matter of interpretation. Finally, the overall number of students (n = 133) is not large. Nonetheless, this pilot study provides a foundation for more focused research on history education at a design faculty.

To improve history education in a design school, two aspects seem to be particularly important. First, education needs to focus (even more) on sharpening and developing student’s analytical and reflective skills, cultivating ‘a research way of thinking’. Second, the relation between learning to design in the design studio and the role of history in all its aspects should be made more explicit, cultivating a ‘designerly’ way of thinking. In this conclusion, we can only sketch some possibilities.

In history education, ‘a research way of thinking’ means that students learn historical facts and figures, but more importantly they learn historical methods, and understand how to assess and evaluate historical findings and writings. Different pedagogical tools—lectures, discussions, primary research, field trips—can all play roles in order to help students understand the multiple ways in which they can use historical facts and methods as an analytical basis for design. To give a few examples:

In all of these pedagogical forms, it is important to choose content carefully. Students often react more strongly to doctrinaire texts; reading them in conjunction with a good discussion can help improve both (visual) knowledge and critical reflection skills. Both are needed to prepare students for their individual historical research in preparation of their studio design. The most important challenge in teaching architectural history consists of expanding beyond the pure transmission of historical knowledge to teaching students the analytical and methodological elements of historical research. In a ‘data-focused’ society, people seem to forget that what matters are not data but seeing patterns and relations and being able to evaluate and value that data.

In design education, ‘a designerly way of thinking’ means that teachers have to make the relation between history and designing more explicit. Students have to understand the development of patterns and ideas in their contexts, why these patterns and ides are valued as they are in time; and they have to be able to decide if and how these patterns and ideas can be valuable in a design situation at hand. To a certain extent history is a timeless toolbox, with an endless amount of patterns, principles, and ideas. Students have to learn to experiment with these patterns, to use, combine, and transform patterns and ideas. At the same time, history is a context-bounded toolbox. Students have to learn to understand patterns and ideas in their context and their conditions. Historical ways of approaching problems may help them understand how to approach current conditions and challenges in designing.

Students seem to have implicit and unspecific understanding of the relation between designing and history, so we must refine the underlying goals and methodologies of the curriculum, and their meaning for design. Elise Van Dooren has developed a framework of five generic elements to make the design process explicit to students and to train them in essential design skills (Van Dooren et al. 2014, 2017). She has based it on the work of researchers who have explored designerly ways of thinking’ (Cross 2007), the design process (Darke 1979; Lawson 2004, 2006; Lawson and Dorst 2009), design education in the design studio (Schön 1985, 1987), and differences between novices and expert designers (Eastman et al. 2001). It makes design skills the foundation of design education. These skills include insight into historical and current architectural debates and the shifting role of the designer in society. Contemporary design education is largely based on learning-by-doing tasks, and again, on personal views of ‘good architecture’. It seeks to bring design education to a ‘higher’ level than describing product-based learning goals and assessment criteria.

The framework identifies five elements that have to be present in the design process, beyond personal styles and approaches. They are not meant to be a description or recipe for design but a guideline for teachers and students in design education. The most visible part of designing is what the framework calls the domains (1). These are all aspects designers have to pay attention to: space, composition, and function; and material and socio-cultural and historical aspects. Many of these aspects are subject of discussion in design education. However, the process of designing doesn’t stop there, and design education should focus much more on the other four elements identified in the framework. (see also Schön 1987, Oxman 2001). The design process includes experimenting (2) in a physical laboratory (3): with the help of sketches and models designers explore and reflect, they think open and freely, and they play around. They also have to think critically and make choices for the particular design situation at hand. Designers experiment with(in) a frame of reference (4), building up a professional (mental) reference library and expanding it over time: they use, combine, and alter examples, ideas, principles, and patterns. And last, but not least, the process of experimenting is given direction by a guiding theme (5), an overall idea regarding the design task at hand, a focus or value. In this personal and cultural way, designers frame the design task at hand and come up with a design.

Van Dooren currently focuses on tutoring dialogues in the design studio in which professors make the design process explicit, including fostering discussion about socio-cultural examples and references (Van Dooren et al., to be published). Meanwhile, Hein explores the shifting role of historians and its meaning for design education in parallel with revising history education. She also explores the role of architectural space in learning building on earlier research (Abbot et al. 2014). Drawing on design, historical and spatial approaches, the next step in this research project will be structured intervention both in the setup of historical education (seminars, lectures, history thesis) and in the design studio, combining fieldtrips and hands-on study with discussion of textbooks to consciously connect historical analysis to design.