CGZ-VOLNO1-ARCH5602-FA2025-E9
Realistic or Reality?
Photorealism in Architectural Representation
Stephan Argent
In the context of an audience, the medium in which content is presented dictates both the priorities and the audience’s comprehension of that content. As designers, we influence how our designs are perceived and how they perform. Within architectural education specifically, we go through the design development stages by visiting sites, conducting research, analyzing precedents, tweaking and editing based on desk critiques, and so forth to produce solutions to the problems presented to us. To do this effectively, we seek to understand the audience to whom we are presenting and how design addresses their problems. Intention is the driving force behind any presentation, but representation is what seals the deal; it makes an audience feel as if they can live inside the drawings and renderings.
But within studio culture, the practice of realism in architectural renderings — or more so, the visual emphasis that overshadows intent — has become a problem as the primary driver of successful architectural projects. A false sense of success is depicted in renderings: how well the materials are shown, how well the lighting is used, or how well the sky is captured. Obsession with decorative methods of so-called realism is a negative contribution to the practice of architecture, and it starts in the studio. The project’s focus — its form — is blinded by glamor, while its intention — its content — is swept under the rug. Architecture shouldn’t be perceived as a product marketing strategy in which pictures of hyper-representation define “good design.” Renderings are sometimes needed, nevertheless, but the overuse and distortion of this tool set up false expectations for both the audience and the designer.
These renderings are harmful to all parties: design thinking is undervalued, as cinematic visuals are often used to cover subpar design or to undermine the value of the narrative designers create; in addition, they reduce design to marketing, disregarding the importance of spatial discipline. The disconnect between representation and the thought process of architectural design is a problem that should be addressed.
To start, it is important to understand where the practice of flattery through architectural imagery came from, where the initial “attitude” of visual intensity over intent is displayed. Discussing distraction in Reality Modeled After Images, Michael Young acknowledges that, “Architecture knows (distraction), as it modulates and manipulates attention within the environment through aesthetics, beginning with its rendering of images.”1 Young explains that architecture recognizes distraction as a manipulator within design: too many elements are used to grab your attention, which can be misleading. The audience is perceiving an image that is controlled rather than understanding a building. In relation to photorealism, it boils down to how we communicate with our designs. A more specific question to ask: What is necessary to show or hide, or what are we distracting the audience with?
In Figure 5.2 in Young’s text, Joseph Bernard, “Concours du Grand Prix de Rome, Un Establishment D’Eaux Thermales et Casino” (1900), from L. Farge, Les Concours D’Ecole, 1re Année, a casino floor plan with a highly decorated pattern provides a sense of luxury and pleasure via its drawing. The whiteness of the image is filler, where the dark tones overlay shading and linework. These work simultaneously with each other — classic figure and ground — as the observer’s eyes dance all over the image into a sense of admiration masked by distraction. Young makes the point that these drawings are made for the viewer to quickly view rather than to deeply analyze what’s been curated to be conveyed. When drawings become too decorative, the attention or the main idea is the image itself, not specific design choices that transform the drawing into an image.2 “The highly decorative possibilities of the vehicle tend to focus the attention upon the paper representation—the rendering—as an end in itself, rather than upon the potential actuality—the building.”3
The concept of decoration applies to realism in renderings because, foundationally, choices are made to make certain aspects of a drawing or image louder than others. Maximizing decoration is ultimately an aesthetic choice; doing so weakens the abstraction of the project.
The Twist Museum, designed by Bjarke Ingels Group (BIG), built in 2019, is an art museum in Viken, Norway. The proposed project functions as a bridge, a building, and a work of sculpture intertwined in one. The museum is situated in the middle of two forested riverbanks designed to enhance the experience within the Kistefos Sculpture Park. The sculptural form of the new museum is derived from a square twisted from its center into a rectangular plane oriented vertically at the entrance and horizontally at the exit. The facade of the deformed bar has a continuous flow, forming a rib-like pattern. The initial rendering of the project prior to construction illustrates the expectation that this site is immersed between building and landscape, rather than being a standalone, site-less architectural object.
Rendering of The Twist / Kistefos Gallery, Viken, Norway, by Bjarke Ingels Group
It’s clear visually that the building has not only a unique form but is also placed within a dramatic and raw atmosphere. The first rendering is a shot from the grass with the museum in the center and the landscape in the background. Notable here is the emphasis on the landscape itself: the fog surrounding the water and both sides of the forest, the highlights bouncing off the water. This image reads as an imaginary world where an everyday experience would look exactly like this picture, as if the viewer would see the same fog, feel the gusting wind, or hear the water crashing from the river.
According to Eric Baldwin for Architizer, BIG considers architecture as a “fantasy of the real world,” as these renderings seem to show.4 “In the words of Bjarke Ingels, if ‘a documentary is to document our world as it already is, then fiction is to fantasize about how it could be. In that sense, architecture is the fiction of the real world... turning dreams into reality with bricks and mortar.”5 BIG is catering to their audience — clients most of the time, but also the public who are interested in buildings like this. These types of renderings become the norm, essentially selling a feeling which is then executed by decision-making and investment. The reality of this approach is that the real project doesn’t always live up to visual expectations or the intent of the designer. The rendering relies on environmental conditions such as fog, lighting, and weather to create a cinematic effect for the consumer, rather than the architectural elements of the design and how it all works. How often are visitors experiencing the conditions “promised” in the rendering? Photorealism attempts to imitate ontological reality, but it succeeds first in conveying a phenomenological feeling rather than explaining objectively how space functions. How the audience feels in a space and how they imagine themselves living in it are, more broadly, how this space is supposed to be perceived and how its functions are applied. It is almost as if the audience is being sold a dream through a series of images that pause or eliminate a realistic sense of space by canceling analysis. Although we can’t control the audience’s interpretation or whether the daydreaming of their lifestyle is sought within these images, we should encourage questions about circulation, function, spatial programming, and behavior that this building produces. Instead, an extreme pink sunset sky HDRI, the visible grain from the reinforced concrete, the depth of the camera lenses, and more gimmicks take away from the project’s core concept. Realism in this context doesn’t support the communication of design but rather serves as a mask of what the design is.
This issue also has real-world consequences, including architecture that is misleading. Imagery flows from the start of the studio in practice, but it doesn’t end there. Many contemporary firms rely heavily on renderings to win over clients, investors, and developers. By doing so, this creates an opportunity for designs to be controlled by a marketing-driven environment, where an image is the soul, what architecture is supposed to build, literally and figuratively. It is post-rational thinking, where design is produced first and reasoning follows.
A look into the experience of a contemporary architectural student, or how studio culture reinforces hyperrealism, unintentionally: in the first year of architectural school, the fundamentals of representation are taught, including color theory, hand-drafting techniques, form-making methods, and so on. As semesters progress, the techniques translate from physical to digital; where physical drawings were used as tools in the initial stages of design, digital tools become the sole means of production throughout all phases of a project. Students are taught Rhino, Photoshop, Lumion, Enscape, and a plethora of the other latest programs. They earn praise for faster production and more visually appealing (or at least novel) techniques. Timing is also a factor in the methods of representation chosen: if deadline constraints are tight and the deliverables are heavy, most students won’t waste time making collages or physical renders, despite their capacity for being more intimate than the “beautiful” images digital visual tools can produce. These tools are quick and effective for creating realistic images. The primary focus is to support a design in a way that sells an idea. Mixed media is rarely used outside of niche interests or preferences.
This phenomenon also creates anxiety for students who look up to promising firms that produce these realistic renderings. They set an example, leading students to resolve to implement them in their own portfolios, stressing them out to live up to the standards a particular firm may require. Even for incoming junior staff, certain firms not only require experience with photorealistic rendering but also preference specific rendering programs. At the time of this writing, a job posting for a Junior Designer position at OMA requires “Proficiency in rendering software, particularly in V-Ray and/or Enscape.”6 This firm uses photorealistic renders and other various rendering methods for their projects. The constraint placed on the applicant to have this skill of photorealistic rendering reinforces its dominance in the profession.
However, there are firms that practice against realism and cinematic elements within their rendering. One example is Tatiana Bilbao Estudio; a recent project that represents their approach is the Hunters Point Masterplan. Located in San Francisco, this project, currently in progress (along with the park and public spaces in the area), addresses the issues of gentrification, displacement, and spatial injustice. “The masterplan introduces a new way of designing and creating by prioritizing habitability, identifying the key features of each space, and designing the programs needed for this community-driven project.”7
Within the firm’s representation style, they have compiled works consisting of axonometric drawings, conceptual diagrams, and collages. One of two works displayed in this project is the Wheel of Life, a planning tool that is divided into four major pillars — living, knowledge, production, and strength — supported by the relations of each category that supports it. This diagram represents the social and conceptual intent behind the design with simple color schemes and symbols that correlate with each other. A second image, a photomontage rendering, consists of real photos of trees, people, and landscapes along with vector linework of the proposed structures that tie it together. The collage doesn’t exaggerate the intent of the design by making the project overtly glamorous. Instead, they showcase real photos along with cohesive colors and themes that pull the picture together.
Observing the collage, it doesn’t force a fantasy world with a false sense of reality. This image, despite its abstraction, is what is real. It showcases reality by having the slight imperfections of the cutouts of the trees, for example, making the project as intimate with messy reality as possible. The representation strategy is appropriate for a community-influenced project, as well; it goes beyond the idea of creating a hyper-polished story behind the renders. Estudio’s deliverables are intended to create a narrative of how this project serves the city rather than selling a fake world that doesn’t positively affect its community members.
Collages of the Hunters Point Masterplan by Tatiana Bilbao Estudio
When an image is louder than the concept, clarity is overtaken; when architecture becomes more about selling than thinking, it undermines the purpose of discipline. It becomes more about imagery than intent, counter to the very concept of representation: to show, not to hide. They impose influence, mislead audiences, and replace analytical thinking with emotional response, creating unrealistic expectations for a confused audience. This turns architecture into a marketing scheme, where beautiful images are the most valuable. Instead of showcasing spatial, material, and social discipline, photorealistic renderings act more as digital entertainment, concerned less with lived experience within space and more with producing the perfect image. But as seen with Bilbao’s work: there are other possibilities.
- Young, Michael. Reality Modeled After Images: Architecture and the Aesthetics After the Digital Image, 131–146. London: Routledge, 2021.
- Ibid., 140
- Ibid., 137
- Baldwin, Eric. “Worldcraft: How Bjarke Ingels Group Brings Renderings to Life.” Architizer. Accessed December 9, 2025. https://architizer.com/blog/inspiration/collections/worldcraft-renderings-big/.
- Ibid.
- OMA. “Junior Designer.” Job listing. Accessed December 9, 2025. https://omajobs.softgarden.io/job/61061992/Junior-Designer.
-
Bilbao, Tatiana. “Hunters Point Masterplan.” Tatiana Bilbao ESTUDIO. Accessed December 9, 2025. https://tatianabilbao.com/projects/hunters-point-masterplan.