As visitors approach our front door in London, the view from the street into the studio is filtered through a large sectional model of King's Cross Station. Spanning across several windows, it is large enough to show the play of light across every beam in the sweeping roof. Once inside the studio, the eye travels to plinths bearing numerous precise wooden models on rotating display. On a typical day, scruffier sketch models might sit on the meeting tables. And looking ahead, the visitor will see the team of in-house makers at work in our model shop, producing more intricate maquettes or prototyping fragments of buildings. All speak to the central role of model making in our design process.

A question naturally arises: in an increasingly digital world of CGIs, AI-generated images and 3D printing – all of which we certainly use – why do we still make so many physical models by hand? The first answer is implied in the question: they stand out as never before. Analogue objects are now seen as ‘special’ and unusual, just as CGIs were 25 years ago. Now that AI can create endless renderings within seconds, the proliferation of digital images is accelerating. A beautifully made model can take many days or weeks, and therefore a lot of thought and care (and money) is invested in them. That investment is intuitively understood, and the object carries a different weight.

Talking points

Clients love to see physical, tangible objects. Quite understandably, many find it difficult to mentally piece together a clear impression of a building from architectural drawings and digital renders, so models are useful to convey the overall form and massing of a building, and the way it looks from every angle.

More than that, though, models open up conversations about architecture in a unique way. The client may be investing millions in a project which is – or should be – an exciting, collaborative creative process. Placed in the middle of a meeting table, a model gives everyone the same point of reference and allows clients to interact with the design team to develop the design.

Some become ‘souvenirs’ of that process. Sitting in the client’s reception or boardroom, they feel far more meaningful and personal than printed 2D media. Those crafted presentation models typically represent the final step in an iterative process, in which physical models are important at every stage.

We make sketch models to explore ideas. Many are quickly discarded but making them is a creative process, and often the quickest route to the right solution. When you can hold something in your hand or put it up to your eye, it is surprising what is revealed – even to the most experienced architects. Models are great at exposing design failings and weaknesses in a scheme, but also reassure when things are going in the right direction. We often make models to validate resolved ideas. 

As detailed designs develop, models are a way of forcing oneself to resolve all elements of a building. Making CGIs, an architect could choose to show only the areas that they are happiest with, selecting viewpoints that ignore everything else. With physical models there’s no hiding place. Our modelmakers – led by Lizz Riley-Evans – will ask for every elevation and massing component to be drawn before work begins. Discussion with them is very important to the creative process.

In preparing information for the modelmakers, all the little unresolved elements have to be addressed. At the same time, the process forces one to clarify the larger conceptual approach to a building: What are attributes that should be evident even at a reduced scale? What are the distinct elements of the building, and how do they meet? This reductive process often allows one to simplify and refine the building itself. A phrase we often use is “Design the model”.

Of course, the different models we make allow for differing degrees of resolution, from abstract objects intended to convey high-level design principles to very precise assemblies describing the component pieces of a building. There is also huge variation in the way they look – not least because our buildings are varied.