This issue of arq explores how academic researchers are practicing design, and how architectural practitioners are researching design. Pedagogy has emerged as a theme bridging these two distinct subfields. Likewise, they are connected through explorations of the nature of architectural representation and process, examining how ideas, strategies, and spaces are communicated across academia and practice. The ever-changing field of architectural representation, and how we engage with it, often escapes close reading. By drawing particular attention to it, the issue aims to highlight the state of design research in the discipline today.

Standing on the bridge of an enormous container ship, watching Hong Kong harbour emerge blinking out of a South China Sea pregnant with ships and into the radar screen dawn as we approach nearby Chinese port of Yantian … barrelling along a dirt road tracing oil pipes through the Ecuadorean Amazon atop the roof rack of a minivan, the gas flares of oil refineries visible over jungle canopy … passing a bar of solid metal more valuable than a London house and less useful than a brick between eager hands in the Gold Room of an Australian Outback mine … Standing in a chilled and humming room with the supercomputer ‘Pac-man’ as it crunches climate change data … Feeling the bass wave rumble from a rocket launch at a space city in the Kazakh Steppe … Breathless at 5,000m as a radio array turns gracefully to face the beginnings of the universe … We are in the field. These are sites built from stories. Unfamiliar landscapes forged from familiar wants and needs. They are landscapes and infrastructures as cultural artefacts. Each ripe with its own absurdities and contradictions, and each born of a critical mass of habits, beliefs, and desires.

Architectural representation – concerned as it is with things at levels of abstraction, scales of ‘bigness’, and already complex, intertwined and multi-layered contexts – often overlooks or presupposes the seemingly straightforward attributes of its engagement. Acts of looking at (or into) architectural imagery, objects and other phenomena are principally concerned with the spaces held within, rather than asking us to reflect on the experience of interacting with the representational device itself. In this way, architectural imagery attempts to mask its own presence. By always gesturing to the thing that is distant or unbuilt, it asks us, perversely, to pretend that it isn't there – that we are in fact engaging directly with the spaces and structures depicted rather than their likenesses in paper, card or otherwise. Our own practice (STASUS) and teaching concerns itself with the relationship between the observer and the architectural project, and the complex set of coded meanings which are engaged with in this encounter. We are particularly interested in the affecting nature of the space in which design processes are undertaken. In this paper, we reflect on the experience of encountering architectural projects through their representation, both in a state of completion and in process. We set out to reframe an idea of architectural design as the performance of a dialogue between recognisable, image-able things, held and staged by objects and media that don't meet or exceed expectations, but defy them, by demanding to be noticed.

This paper presents, through text and the design project ‘The Silt House’, an alternative architecture for flood landscapes.

The investigation sets out the context for current forms of infrastructure and architecture planned in response to the increased threat of flooding in and around the Thames Estuary. In particular, it looks to certain experimental flood defence systems, suggesting, that instead of building bigger and bigger sea walls, we should look to use the landscape as a hybrid landscape infrastructure where salt marshes can act as a storage point for excess water and the flora can dispel energy from flood tides. Within this context, the text and design work seek to address the questions: what formal and spatial logics might be appropriate for architecture if sited in such a hybridised landscape like the tidal marsh; and, how might these logics mirror the particular conditions of this new model of infrastructure?

To help answer this question, the work looks to the architect and poet Raimund Abraham and, in particular, his 10 Houses projects developed between 1970 and 1973 for an alternative architectural model that uses natural processes to create enclosure and define architectural space. The design project seeks to explore how the direct use of such a historical reference can itself be seen as a means to not only develop an architecture that demonstrates a symbiotic relationship between nature and architecture, but also between the social and the political.

Recent advancements in digital technology, have not only deeply transformed the production of film and architecture but brought the two disciplines closer than ever before. The digital has allowed ground-breaking, if not hasty, changes in the way that architecture is not only produced, but also designed and conceived. In contrast, however, to the extensive use of computational design to interrogate the formal, material and structural possibilities of architecture, this article explores how new time-based media and computer generated imagery in film can unlock the story-telling, political and philosophical potential of architecture. I will focus on three projects – Agit-Prop (2014) by Liam Davis, Wates House (2014) by Daniel Cotton and my project Déjà vu (2009) – which combine techniques and tropes from both cinema and design as a means for reflection and commentary in architecture.

Originally coined by the German artist Hans Richter in the 1940s, the term ‘essay film’ describes an intimate, allusive and idiosyncratic genre at the margins between fiction and documentary. Richter poignantly suggests that the essay film makes the invisible world of thoughts and ideas visible on the screen; it produces complex thought-reflections that are not necessarily bound to reality, but can also be contradictory, irrational, and fantastical. Dealing with political and philosophical issues, the essay film is cinema at its most engaged and liberated.

Examining the three projects in comparison to examples of essay films that reflect on architecture or the city, such as Dziga Vertov’s, Man with a Movie Camera (1929), Wim Wender’s, If Buildings Could Talk (2010), and Alain Resnais’s, Toute la mémoire du monde (1956), my aim is to propose a new hybrid genre lying at the boundaries between architectural design, theory and film, what I call: the ‘architectural essay film’.

Conceiving a design as both a history and a fiction is not exclusive to the analogy of architecture to landscape. But it is central to this tradition because of the simultaneous and interdependent emergence in the early eighteenth century of new art forms, each of them a creative and questioning response to empiricism's detailed investigation of subjective experience and the natural world: the picturesque landscape, analytical history and English novel, which its early advocates conceived as a fictional autobiography and characterised as a history not a story. The conjunction of new art forms stimulated a lyrical environmentalism that profoundly influenced subsequent centuries, and is increasing relevant today due to anthropogenic climate change, which is now the principal means to consider the relations between nature and culture.

While a prospect of the future is implicit in many histories and novels, it is explicit in a design, which is always imagined before it is built. Creative architects have often looked to the past to imagine the future, studying an earlier architecture not to replicate it but to understand and transform it, revealing its relevance to the present. Twenty-first century architects need to appreciate the shock of the old as well as the shock of the new.

Much has been written on the impact of digital technology and its translation into architectural practice and education. This paper reconsiders this process of integration to question current trends in research and pedagogy. Recent efforts to expand architectural research in schools tend to focus on broadening its spectrum while reinforcing design as research. We argue that the relevance of digital technology to these discussions, and its role in expanding fields of research, depends on different cultures of investigation and their differing institutional contexts. Our interest is in cultures that, as lines of thought, broaden the field of architectural research and make it heterodox, thickening a line of research with multiple interpretations. Tracing early experiences in the ‘paperless’ studios of Columbia's Graduate School of Architecture Planning and Preservation, this paper questions how architectural pedagogies are developing in response to the current normalisation of digital design, with a focus on the Architecture Association's Design Research Lab (DRL) and the Strelka Institute in Moscow.

Ultimately, the main question is addressed: in what ways can the digital be political? By referring to the DRL and Strelka research programmes, two distinct approaches have been critically explored. On the one hand, DRL has been pushing to the limit the idea of research by design, considering autonomous form as the materialisation of change in the design process, while Strelka has been practicing research as the information for design. If digital technology contributes to form generation at DRL, at Strelka it potentiates opinion generation, and the research product is information, rather than form itself. The triangulation of both approaches could eventually suggest a more thorough political expression by means of a digital redux.

This essay attempts to outline the ways in which contemporary videogames produce spatial experiences, and how architects might interrogate their unique media form. Framing videogames as both computational constructions and cultural artefacts, the paper places the study in a lineage of architectural thinkers examining ‘pop-culture’ and technology. This draws from the Smithson's writings on advertisements as technical images, Venturi Scott-Brown's studies on symbolism, through to Reyner Banham's definition of mass produced gizmos. The paper first outlines the importance of videogames on society and their Smithsonian impulses towards architectural design. To support this, I examine the work of game theorists such as Espen Aarseth and Ian Bogost. Aarseth argues that game spaces sever certain ties and ‘deviate’ from reality in order to become playable spaces. Bogost contends that game rules produce ‘procedural rhetoric’ - games may advance arguments through the playing of their rules. Reading from these theories I argue that these rule-based breaks from the real are a potent site for architectural speculation.

The second section comprises design case studies scrutinising existing game worlds and producing new videogames as architectural experiments. I begin by examining the significance of symbolism in videogame worlds, and how this might provide alternative trajectories for digital architectural design. I subsequently explore Atkinson and Willis’ concept of the ludodrome, slippages between virtual and real, and discuss Ubiquity, a game I produced to explore this condition. I return to Banham's Great Gizmo, alongside PW Singer's writings on military robotics, to see the gamepad as a new order of gizmo for colonising space. And I discuss ‘Grand Theft Auto V’'s loading screen as a manifestation of satellite imagery aesthetics that collapse space. The paper concludes that games are powerful media for spatial experimentation and we must prepare for new generations of designers highly influenced by such ‘deviated’ architectures.

From the Stone Age to the Silicon Age, humanity’s relationship with materials has framed our scientific and cultural evolution. Despite recent scientific advances that open the laboratory doors to a future of material experimentation, the building industry remains stuck in the Concrete Age. The next material age is likely to be a Timber Age, as engineered timber finally comes into its own as a structural material suitable for multi-storey buildings.

The research and design methodology of our practice can be summarised as an essay in conflict and compromise; a continual infliction of self-imposed constraints that allows us to discover hitherto unimaginable paths through the available options. We achieve this by searching through a space of possibilities demarcated by the properties and performative logic of the material at hand. First, we create an abundant field of alternatives, then we often use evolutionary computations to find our way through this field towards a visionary and original design.

All design involves conflicting objectives. The best schemes offer the best compromise between desires. This article discusses how evolutionary solvers can be used as a tool for material-based architectural optimisation of geometries and structures, and how we have used them in designs for the imminent Timber Age. As one potentially conflicting objective is weighed against another, we move closer and closer to a tradeoff: the fitness of cooperating, opposing or unconnected variables.

A population of possible design responses is visualised as a ‘fitness landscape’. Inspired by the role of natural selection in biological evolution, we use evolutionary algorithms to perform a selection process in which the ‘most fit’ members of such a population survive, while the ‘least fit’ members are eliminated, with the selection process guiding the algorithm towards ever-better solutions. The resulting timber structures would have made Darwin proud.

In an attempt to make architectural education more relevant to professional architectural practice and as a response to increasing tuition fees, major changes to university curricula in the UK are afoot. This brings unprecedented opportunities to re-consider what and how universities teach - and to make architectural education more relevant to real-world challenges.

Last year, undergraduate design unit UG3 at the Bartlett School of Architecture completed an innovative project. The unit teamed-up with educational charity Global Generation to design and build a series of small buildings for a real client on a real site in King’s Cross. The article ‘Made in Architecture: Education as collaborative practice’ evaluates the emerging tradition of the live project as a vehicle for teaching architecture students about teamwork, collaboration and engagement. These skills - although increasingly significant to architectural practice - have until now been largely side-lined by university curricula.

Only if educators and practitioners together embrace new opportunities for architects to engage and empower communities can the profession reverse increasing marginalisation and re-define it’s remit in the face of new social and environmental challenges.