‘The fire is burning. Is it burning for me or against me? Will it give tangible shape to my dreams, or will it eat them up? I know pottery traditions going back thousands of years; all the potters’ tricks I know, I have used them all. But we have not yet reached the end. The spirit of the material has not yet been overcome.’

(Adolf Loos, ‘Pottery’)

An unorthodox and influential critique of the modern city was published in 1908 by August Endell, an autodidact in the field of architecture. Influenced by empathy theory, Impressionist ideas, contemporary sociology, and the literary and artistic circles of the time, Endell's small book Die Schönheit der Großen Stadt (The Beauty of the Metropolis) read the metropolis through a new way of ‘seeing’ [1,2]. What he saw was surprising for most readers: the city's centre was discovered in marginal sites, and its lasting identity was grasped in its fleeting moments. Although Endell never drew up encompassing schemes for the city, did not participate in the first city-building competitions of the time, and focused primarily on individual building projects, one of his major publications was entirely devoted to the city. The Beauty of the Metropolis takes the reader on a journey through a city that slowly reveals itself as Berlin. Throughout the book, Endell describes urban scenes such as streets, plazas, stations, and the margins of urbanity, such as the city's blank walls and outskirts.

‘[W]hat do we mean when we speak of architectural quality? It is a question that I have little difficulty answering. […] Quality architecture to me is when a building manages to move me. What on earth moves me? How can I get this into my own work?’

(Peter Zumthor, Atmospheres)

Driven by our interest in sustainability, the vernacular architecture of Wales and a preference for ‘rational’ over wilfully expressive form, the determination to ‘build simply’ has become an abiding aspiration in the work of the Design Research Unit (dru) at the Welsh School of Architecture, Cardiff University. Established in 1998, dru aims both to apply the School's wider research to architectural commissions and to develop design as a medium of research in its own right. In this paper, various themes that recur in the Unit's recent work are discussed in the context of two current schemes that exemplify this research-based approach to design.

In 1554 the Renaissance architectural master, Andrea Palladio (born Andrea della Gondola, or ‘di Pietro’), produced two little-known guidebooks to the city of Rome. These were unillustrated texts, one of which described the ancient wonders of the city while the other concentrated on the later medieval churches. Guidebooks of this kind had existed since medieval times but Palladio introduced a new kind of structure to the guide by organising the material into logical routes which the tourist could follow. Since then architectural guidebooks have proliferated and the introduction of photography and high quality graphics has changed their appearance significantly. However, in many respects things have not altered a great deal. Architectural guidebooks still present a view of a city which is that of a single individual (or small group of authors) and the selection of the material determines what is deemed to be of significance. Some guides, such as those by Nikolaus Pevsner, attempt to present the buildings in as neutral a way as possible in order to give the work a degree of objectivity but, nonetheless, the visitor is still being presented with a particular view of the city.

Concern with economic performance dominates the urban agenda of most modern cities, but this objective is pursued differently according to the ideology of the community. Amman follows distinctive development trajectories that reflect both the interactions of global forces and the local community. The primary global force affecting Amman is the competitive international environment engendered by economic globalisation that makes the city an increasingly attractive location for investment. This competition is manifested in city marketing strategies that reflect the desire to attract multinational corporations and specialists. The political ideology of the city plays an important role in the globalisation process currently taking place in Amman. In the USA, city planning is undertaken by different developmental agencies with limited participation of the city-region scale, while in Western Europe the state is involved in urban development and planning. Amman's situation is a mixture between state control and economic liberalism in which urban development is determined by the planning vision of attracting foreign investment and reduced restrictions to free enterprise.

‘Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road. Healthy, free, the world before me, the long brown path before leading wherever I choose.’

(Walt Whitman)

‘It was democracy that commissioned this project. If we had not been serious in deciding that our nation is resolved – as it says in our constitution – to create a new order for itself and establish a social state on the basis of free self-determination, this building would not have been conceived and completed in the way that it has been, a building whose reality […] symbolises what is new about our order, embodying the element of freedom and the desire that man should be at its centre.’

‘The power of architecture (the potential of architecture) is integral to the spirit that orders the grouping of the elements that make up the house; – because architecture emanates, and does not clad; it is more an odour than a drapery, a state of aggregations, more than an enveloping surface.’ (Le Corbusier)

Upon entering the basilica of San Lorenzo in Florence one is immediately impressed by the nave arcades, those rhythmic, monumental assemblages of columns, entablature blocks and arches that in the first half of the fifteenth century established a benchmark of elegance and refinement for all subsequent architecture of the Renaissance [1]. Cool, orderly and restful yet, like springs coiled in compression, full of energy, the nave arcades are works of tremendous artistic power. By functioning so strongly as complete compositions, the nave arcades suppress the individuality of their component parts: viewed from ground level, the repeated bays all appear to be identical, even though when viewed up close the capitals and other carved details betray notably uneven levels of quality in both design and execution. This variation in quality constitutes a rich and largely untapped source of evidence pertaining to the construction history and original meaning of this pivotal work in the history of architecture.

The term ‘sustainability’ is often used as a woolly term for everything that is good and desirable. Besides, ‘sustainability’ is a subjective area, which can be difficult to quantify. Any construction project has a wide range of environmental impacts, each of which may have been measured in a different way. Energy may have been measured in terms of carbon dioxide emissions, whereas wood or mineral extraction is generally measured volumetrically, making comparisons between environmental impacts difficult to determine. Various methodologies seek to standardise impacts for comparative purposes and the guiding principle for any environmental assessment is a comparison to the existing building stock, and a result is invariably in terms of a building's relative sustainability. However, to some it is not a matter of being ‘more’ or ‘less’ sustainable. You either are or you are not, therefore relative sustainability is not a valid concept. The discussion of sustainability in this paper is not a debate on the semantics of the term, but ultimately the purist's view does lead to the question whether there can ever be such a thing as a sustainable building and indeed what the role of architecture in the context of sustainability is.

In 1976, Gavin Stamp published the legendary review, ‘“Stirling's Worth”: the History Faculty Building’. Written from the perspective of a user of the building, it offers a critical assessment of the quality of what is recognised by architectural connoisseurs as one of James Stirling's masterpieces of avant-garde architecture; designed in the architect's early phase, 1950–74. Apart from the History Faculty building at the University of Cambridge, 1964–67, early period works also include Stirling and Gowan's iconic Engineering building at the University of Leicester, 1959–63, and the lesser known Florey building at The Queen's College in Oxford, 1966–71 [1].

‘It is always stimulating to talk to you about architecture, but I have noticed over the past two years that you tend to identify me entirely with Tecton. Bear in mind the following. I have now built with Lindsey [Drake] more buildings than [I built with] Tecton and that my philosophy on architecture is, I hope, on the side of life – that is to say, it is not static but changing. I rather hoped that when you saw the model of [the flats at] 26 St James's Place, you would have realised the extent to which my ideas are changing.’

Venaria Reale was built by the Savoy Duke Carlo Emanuele II on a marshy site about six miles north-east of Turin. It comprised a large palace cum hunting-lodge, gardens, a hunting wood and a small city through which the palace was approached. Designed by the architect Amadeo di Castellamonte, it was built almost entirely ex novo between about 1655 and 1675. The entire project was thematically structured around an elaborate programme of emblems (essentially mottos with illustrative paintings) drawn from contemporary rhetorical practice. This iconographic scheme was devised by the court philosopher and eminent theorist of rhetoric, Emanuele Tesauro. It is also clear that the Duke himself was involved in both the architecture and decoration of the scheme.

‘I hear and I forget, I see and I remember, I do and I understand.’

(Chinese proverb)

An explanation (maybe even an apology) is called for when entering the crowded and noisy arena where quality is debated. Good sport is often had there, but decisions are few: instead most outcomes follow tiresomely circular rather than linear trajectories. My justification for adding to the overcrowded and unruly scene is simple. It is to give a view of quality in architecture which is not widely represented and which seems to be often overlooked. The view comes from the modern history of the UK construction industry, a wide perspective which extends beyond buildings as artifacts. The paper will borrow a definition of quality and, crucially, try to show how it is connected with the operation of the construction industry, and is growing.

Enhancing the urban ‘quality of life’ has become a major task for actors in the public realm. The now ‘undisputed objective’ of ‘sustainable city development’ is meaningless unless we can turn our cities, towns and urban neighbourhoods into places where people actively want to live, work and play. The spatial quality of neighbourhoods is crucial in this respect. Besides housing typology and access, ‘quality of life’ is primarily defined by the nature of available open space. Public space is one of the most important and strategic instruments of local government. Thus a basic issue for those in planning practice is how to help realise public spaces which contribute to the appropriate level of quality. Although much progress has been made to assess quality of life at the larger level of scale, for example that of a city or a region, much less progress has been made at a smaller and more concrete area level. More than 25 years after Kevin Lynch's opus magnum Good City Form, an operational approach on the level of urban design is still much in need.