This issue of arq contains a selection of papers first presented at an event titled Further Reading Required held at the Bartlett School of Architecture, UCL, in 2011. Here, the conference organisers reflect on the distinctive strand of architectural research – comprising historical and theoretical readings of technical construction literature – which it sought to consolidate.

The Further Reading Required event – subtitled Building Specifications, Contracts and Technical Literature – was focused on the role and status of the non-pictorial documents that establish the relations and responsibilities of those involved in building, and that describe the materials and processes to be used in construction. A one-day symposium, held on 17 February at the Bartlett School of Architecture, UCL, organised by Tilo Amhoff, Nick Beech and Katie Lloyd Thomas, it sought to examine the various regulatory documents and processes in relation to which architecture is historically constituted; to interpret how they distribute competencies and negotiate the various agencies and interests involved in building; and to explore the particular kinds of productivity that they make available or alternatively foreclose.

This perspective looks at the London Underground station building and proposes that it has a problematic status which is yet to be fully acknowledged in architectural writing. The emergence of the London Underground in the second half of the nineteenth century challenged some of the basic premises of what would become, by the twentieth century, the standard interpretations of Modernism and, yet, it remains insufficiently researched. In outlining a trajectory that leads from Crystal Palace via the railway station and the hybrid nature of the arcade to the London Underground, the aim is to indicate that the spatial and visual regimes of the Underground – and its main architectural object, the Underground station – trace a lineage that was never fully reconciled with the dominant narratives of Modernism.

We must build for this nation a big passion for innovation. We must make the development of the creative mind a national agenda. Unless we get really serious about cultivating creativity and promoting innovation, the transformation to an innovation economy will not really happen.

British Standard 8213-1: 2004 provides design recommendations for windows, door-height windows and rooflights, based upon a detailed assessment of the risk of accident encountered in their use and cleaning. Conservation Area guidance in Edinburgh's New Town sees windows instead as part of the special character of the place. The contradictions between BS 8213-1 and Edinburgh City Council's Conservation Area Guidelines are considered here as a creative opportunity for design.

This paper reflects on the contemporary design practice of Scottish rural housing, through a comparative and analytical approach, examining how three architects, including the author, devise architectural languages embedded in the countryside and locality as inspiration in addressing modern architectural design within a conservative planning tradition. While promoting innovative architectural and settlement design at national level, planning systems at local government level in Scotland often tend to promote versions of bastardised Georgian villas complete with dormer and astragal windows. The author's award-winning practice has challenged the approach, and this paper represents a practitioner's self-reflection in analysing key elements of the implicitly grounded concepts of his design ethos, while comparing this with other contemporary designers with similar but different approaches. The paper provides a brief overview of the planning context and the development of both rural built form and moral philosophies related to the religious traditions of differing localities, prior to a review of the work of the three practices and a reflection on the way in which these practices ‘ground’ their work within context. This, it is argued, has relevance not only for the planning system, but also for other practices, and wider relevance for embedding research within practice.

The term ‘architectural promenade’ has become a part of the language of modern architecture, yet it has been little discussed or investigated. We find it insufficient as a generic term to express a concern with the experience of moving through a building, for the promenade can mean different things to different people. To illustrate this point we make a comparison of the promenade in the Villa Savoye by Le Corbusier – perhaps the promenade par excellence – and that of the almost contemporary Schminke House by Hans Scharoun. We have found many distinct differences. The emphasis in this essay is on the meaning and manipulation of space, something of deep concern to both architects and a topic that each of us has explored separately elsewhere.

The ‘Compact City’ model of sustainable development relies almost exclusively on transport energy analysis to justify the raising of low residential densities by the insertion of higher density dwellings within them. Higher densities mean more people per hectare, which makes public transport more economically viable, which cuts down on car use, which saves transport energy. Suburbs are very popular, however - over 80% of the populations of the UK and the US would prefer to live in them - and they can't all be bulldozed or ‘densified’. Turning the Compact City model on its head frees us to ask what environmental advantages low densities might have. Most suburbs have abundant open land, and land can perform: grow food and fuel, collect and recycle water, modify harsh microclimates, save and generate energy. The ‘performative’ potential of the suburban landscape can transform it into a grown infrastructure contributing to the reduction of the overall environmental impact of a city region, justifying its relatively low densities.

Gordon Matta-Clark (1943–1978), one of the lesser known architects of the second half of the twentieth century, studied architecture at Cornell University between 1962 and 1968. Although he had always been part of an active circle of artists and architects with whom he shared his radical ideas, Matta-Clark was generally excluded from the architectural milieu since his proposed interventions were thought to be unsuitable for accommodation. His exclusion from the architectural scene was marked; following his Window-Blow-Out(s) project in 1976, as Mary Jane Jacob has pointed out, his colleagues – including Peter Eisenman and the members of the Institute for Architecture and Urban Studies (IAUS) – found it very hard to accept an architect with a BB gun in hand. The removal of the facade in the 1974 Bingo project; the elimination of the thresholds in the 1973 Bronx Floors; or the cut to a suburban house in the 1974 Splitting project were all evaluated as temporary, and destructive in the making; and were thus regarded as artistic actions to transform buildings into objects. As such, his critical architectural productions remained overshadowed behind a series of seemingly violent artistic intrusions.

The standard construction contract in the UK, such as JCT 2005, is designed to balance time, quality and cost. Typically, the contract documents consist of a bespoke design described by a full package of drawings and a specification describing quality, techniques and materials. These enable a contractor to offer a fixed price for the work and establish a programme and the aim is to provide a level of financial security that leaves little to error or to contingent forces. That, at least, is the theory. In practice, there are few contracts that run as smoothly as the theory suggests, which accounts for the myriad case law in this area.

In preparing the contract documents, an architect conventionally begins their work by acting as agent for the client. Once appointed, s/he develops the brief with the client and/or users, designs the building and guides the scheme through the regulatory system, describing it in sufficient detail to allow a contractor to arrive at an accurate cost. After this, the ways in which a building can be procured can vary considerably. This article focuses on what happens under a Design and Build (D&B) contract.

This paper reflects on experience gained through MARS (Making Architecture Research Studio) at the University of Nottingham. It argues for a densification of design teaching and learning through a direct, practical and tactile engagement with materials and making. It sets out the pedagogical benefits of exploring and theorising the practical, combined with the value and relevance of material practices. As a methodology of design teaching it suggests a multi-level, synergistic approach to pedagogy and practice that can build key knowledge and skills while avoiding a narrowly instrumental view of architectural education and practice. A key aim of the pedagogy of the studio is the development of an empathetic imagination, as clearly articulated by William Hazlitt (1805) in An Essay on the Principles of Human Action: