Abstract
A small but growing number of design firms are pursuing research activities that extend beyond project‐based work, and even large and established firms are seeking new ways to integrate research more formally, and more meaningfully, into their practice. Now experiencing a moment of particular momentum, the complex relationship between research and professional practice in landscape architecture, and the role of research in professional design offices, has increasingly figured in discussions in academic literature and popular forums. This article contributes to this dialogue and body of knowledge by several means: first, through impassioned, personal statements from the authors about the purpose and importance of research in practice; second, through interviews and surveys with 21 design firms about their approaches, accompanied by practical advice for firms seeking to enhance their research efforts; and finally, through a proposition and call to action from the authors addressed to the discipline of landscape architecture. Collectively, these contributions confirm and shed further light on how professional landscape architecture firms are utilizing creative and diverse models for research, from significant resource commitments and dedicated staff to decentralized models and one‐off, opportunistic efforts. Two new primary motivations and two new models for research in practice are described, along with new drivers, mechanisms, approaches, and outcomes. The article concludes with the authors’ proposition for what is needed to expand research in practice and strengthen its connections to academia, extending an invitation for further dialogue and community‐building around practice‐based research.
Part 1: Purpose
What is practice without research? What is research without practice? In recent years, the complex relationship between research and professional practice in landscape architecture has been increasingly described in academic literature and discussed in popular forums. In this moment of particular momentum, a small but growing number of design firms are pursuing research activities that extend beyond project‐based work, and even large and established firms are seeking new ways to integrate research more formally into their practice. The practitioners leading these efforts are increasingly entering spaces traditionally occupied by academics, and they are engaging in conversations in which they must elaborate upon and even defend their research activities.
In the larger context of climate and equity concerns facing the world and the landscape architecture discipline, capacity organizations like the Landscape Architecture Foundation (LAF), the American Society of Landscape Architects (ASLA), and the Council of Educators in Landscape Architecture (CELA) are showing a new sense of urgency in addressing the need to narrow the gap between research and practice, supporting research in professional practice—both in its own right and in tandem with academic inquiry. Research within professional design firms has been a key focus in recent years, for example in the 2023 CELA conference theme Align|Realign, on “the overlaps and misalignments between what is taught and researched in academia compared to what the professional market demands” (CELA, 2023), and also through panel sessions at CELA and ASLA national conferences (e.g., Kramer et al., 2016; Dehlavi et al., 2017; Domlesky et al., 2022, LaGro et al., 2023, Mendenhall et al., 2023). Landscape Architecture Magazine has recently showcased practice‐based research through various articles and in an editor’s letter (Reut, 2023), and scholarly publications like Landscape Journal and Landscape Review are adjusting their submission and review processes to encourage more perspectives from practice.
In the literature, the connection between research and practice has been studied from a variety of perspectives:
Developing new methodologies or frameworks for research to better inform practice (Deming & Swaffield, 2011; Brown & Corry, 2011; van den Brink & Bruns, 2012; Lenzholzer et al., 2013; Meijering et al., 2015; van den Brink et al., 2017; Domlesky, 2018; Nijhuis & de Vries, 2020; Melcher, 2023; Walls & Rahmann, 2023)
Calling for the creation of a research agenda that is more connected to practice (Culbertson, 2011; Meijering et al., 2015)
Analysis of academic and popular landscape architecture publications for their record of relevance to professional practice (Powers & Walker, 2009; Jost & Lamba, 2010)
Analysis of academic research for its impact on practice (Milburn et al., 2001; Milburn et al., 2003) and recognition through the ASLA awards program (Jost & Lamba, 2010)
Surveys and interviews of professional design firms to understand how they are pursuing research (Chen, 2013; Ryan, 2023)
Though decades of scholarly activity aimed at understanding and framing the discipline’s relationship between research and practice have resulted in significant progress, many questions remain around the current and evolving role of research in professional practice as well as its complex connections to academic pursuits. While theory plays an important role, many questions can only be answered through the words and experience of practitioners.
This dialogue has been constrained by the fact that academia and practice often have different ways of understanding and utilizing the term “research.” The research activities described in this article could be categorized and described in various ways ranging from “design research” and “research and development” to “applied research” and beyond. For the purposes of this article, especially the surveys and interviews of firms described in Part 2, our definition of research is “systematic inquiry that contributes to a body of knowledge,” with a particular focus on research activities that occur outside of or in addition to the typical design process. This working definition was only a starting point for exploration. Acknowledging the lack of common understanding of the term, we do not seek to put forth a single definition and instead attempt to capture directly from practitioners their varied views of what research means.
The Landscape Architecture Foundation’s efforts over more than a decade to promote landscape performance and create a bridge between academia and practice (LAF, 2010) were a natural starting point for this topic. In 2023, LAF convened roundtable discussions with eight landscape architecture practitioners selected for being early adopters of landscape performance in practice (LAF, 2024). Although the roundtable discussions began with the goal of understanding how landscape performance is being integrated in real‐world practice, the conversation organically transitioned into larger questions about research in practice. Over the course of the conversations, the practitioners participating in the roundtable, who became coauthors of this article, were highly energized. They identified shared values and approaches among their firms, and they recognized common challenges to undertaking original research as part of practice. They also brought to light differing methodologies, diverse internal company structures, and varying funding models for research. They learned immensely from each other. A shared motivation to expand the discourse and to invite others into this conversation is the spirit in which this article was conceived.
Among the conversations this group would like to extend, we begin with the following:
How do we translate our disciplinary knowledge efficiently and effectively into designed solutions with positive impacts for society and the environment?
How do we ensure our work is delivering on the promises we make? How do we better understand how the systems we manipulate—ecologies and economies, hydrologies and social structures—really function so that we can transform root conditions instead of responding to superficial symptoms?
How do we build our capacity as a discipline, crafting our own new ways to impact a drastically changing world through landscape architecture?
How can practitioners contribute to knowledge‐building through quantitative and qualitative experimentation and evaluation when they are likely to lack training in scientific research methodologies?
And how do practitioners share the knowledge they create, enabling access to collective knowledge across paywalls?
“Whatever sort of divide, real or imagined, once existed between research and practice—it’s time to let it go. As we can see in the firms . . . the so‐called divide is fast disappearing.” Elen Deming went on to beseech the discipline to “just get on with it” during an LAF webinar on design research (Deming, 2022). This article is an attempt to “get on with it” by more fully characterizing the drivers, motivations, mechanisms, and aspirations for research at a diverse array of professional landscape architecture firms. The authors hope to inspire other practitioners who are integrating research into their practice, or wish to, to come forward; and also to extend a welcoming hand to the academic community, which is an essential ally in this effort.
So—what drives landscape architecture practitioners to set out on the difficult journey of answering the questions they have about their work? While current discussions often leap directly into the mechanics of how a firm might pursue practice‐based research, we begin with the why. This series of brief reflections by each coauthor offers windows into the rich, personal, varied, and sometimes even philosophical, drivers of research in practice.
1. Skepticism
We do it because we can’t help ourselves. We have questions. We need answers. Landscape architects are inquisitive. I’d even say we are skeptical.
Yes, we work from intuition. We trust our sense of composition and beauty. But we are also open and synthetic in our practices, thriving on the surprises that we find through the processes of design, like when we uncover new connections between apparently disparate ideas, when we find order in the complex, when we recognize larger patterns in the world. These “aha” moments are the most joyful.
We strive for these moments because we love to share the joy of these realizations with others through the places and experiences we create.
But today, we are not satisfied with the disciplinary practices of the past. Those comfortable ways don’t take account of the complexity of the challenges we face in our current moment. We feel the need to look again, to know more, to see everything anew. This is why we turn to research. It’s not necessarily efficient. It’s not entirely rational. It comes from the heart as much as from the head.
Whether beginning in the arts or the sciences, research is part philosophical inquiry, part problem solving. It is a process of abstracting the world to see it with new eyes. As designers, we look at the world and test propositions through the traditions of drawing and modeling—a kind of research. The data‐driven metrics that arise from the sciences are just another mode of representation and evaluation—a different set of practices and protocols looking for similar kinds of revelation. Both are responsive to a skeptical mind and an impatient soul. Both must be the tools of a robust field of landscape architecture.
We take on research outside of the confines of our projects fors multiple reasons. It might improve the next project. We might get more efficient at what we do. But mostly I think we do it because we can’t help ourselves. To be a landscape architect is to be an inveterate learner, to feel like every opportunity is a moment to grow, to advance, to understand the world around us more deeply. It’s deeply personal and it’s never ending.
I have found basic research—the kind that tries to get to the bottom of a broad question as opposed to the kind that tries to solve a specific problem—to be invigorating. It makes me pause, reassess my assumptions, and begin everything afresh. It may sound self‐indulgent to describe research this way. But it’s not. The findings can and will serve a greater good. The knowledge will be shared. But the experience of learning is one that is personal and deeply felt.
Research is exercise for the intellect. It’s hard work and takes dedication. But it brings joy, renewal, and constant growth.
—Eric Kramer
This graphic documents the condition of Central Wharf Plaza in Boston for Reed Hilderbrand’s 2014 research on the performance of urban tree planting “The State of City Soils” (Reed Hilderbrand).
2. Improvement
I find histories essential to our understanding of why the built environment looks the way it does, and what social movements, personalities, and technical changes made it realizable. Histories make it possible to understand, repair, and design for the needs of today. In fact, I love history so much I have an extra master’s degree in it. When working on my MLA, I advocated for more of it in the professional program. History often satisfies my numerous questions about why something is that way and not some other and what values and philosophies our landscapes are imbued with. Our field, and architecture as well, holds the past in such reverence that we constantly seek to replicate, recycle, mark, and perpetuate it in built form in small and large ways. We need to cut it out.
Our disciplinary history, and the lessons it teaches, is not remotely adequate to the existential threat we face as humans. History cannot teach us how to proceed now. As we continue speedily toward exceeding our planetary boundaries, we are in uncharted territory. As we humans have mastered the control of our indoor environments, we have lost stability in our outdoor environments: hotter, colder, wetter, drier, spiky weather patterns and uneven cycles of temperature and precipitation. We have relied on, and designed for, constant patterns and parameters of climate since year 0 (with only a slight deviation during the Little Ice Age in the North Atlantic circa 1450–1850, when there was heightened volcanic activity). That world, that stability, is no longer. So as designers, how can we still be designing for that world gone by?
Now, please don’t misunderstand my tack; I am in favor of preservation efforts where they are warranted. Cultural landscapes have immense value and even as the planet changes, social relations and practices remain durable, and we need places that remind us of our pasts. I also have deep appreciation for the embodied knowledge gained through craft, such as the years of experience needed to make a dry stacked stone wall that will last hundreds of years. I am not talking about throwing these out. I am speaking about severing ourselves from the methods and practices of design that are no longer serving us. The client‐consultant relationship, standard materials and assemblies, bid processes, design assumptions, standard deliverables, design aesthetics and performance, and accountability are all things that need to change if we are to evolve to meet the present (and future) condition.
To do this, I believe we must invent new design processes and tools. There has been a radical break with our past reality, and we must catch up. I believe change will happen fastest when the conduit from research to practice is short—when innovations in practice can be shared beyond one single site and sustained inquiry done via research can be shared back to design teams to apply to sites. I do practice‐based research because the world is changing, and design processes need to change with it. We need to be much more future oriented—proactive, not reactive. And although I believe climate change mitigation and adaptation constitute design’s central, most challenging issue, being future‐focused helps us design for other drivers of change, like technological innovations that are deeply affecting the built environment and rapid urbanization and deurbanization.
—Anya Domlesky
The public space fronting Paveletsky Train Station in Moscow was redesigned in 2019 by SWA, transforming a lifeless Victorian‐style park into a dynamic, people‐centric square for all seasons. Decades of experience and XL Lab’s behavioral studies on plazas informed the design moves. See SWA’s Plaza Life Revisited (SWA / XL Lab).
3. Process
Before I went to design school, I used to think designs flowed from their creators in the final form. I thought that ideas were conceived in “eureka moments” and executed in inspired—and uninterrupted—gestures based on the designer’s vision, intuition, and innate brilliance. There certainly can be “Aha!” aspects to design, but more often the design process is iterative and choppy, with intervals for further exploration of topics that weren’t evident upon embarking on a design project.
Design involves the churning and shaping of ideas, information, and forms. The process is cyclical, and the inputs—from clients, stakeholders, consultants, and the site—are extensive. You plunge in, step back, assess, realize you need more information, receive surprising new details, grapple with the complexity, investigate further, dive back in, and slowly gain clarity. Integrated with the evolving design, the team takes on research assignments to dig deeper on relevant topics—some born of necessity, others of curiosity. These exploratory arcs aren’t always productive. But asking questions and generating knowledge through research is essential to developing design alternatives and eventually arriving at final solutions. Research is an additive, supplementing the designer’s intuition and modifying the design mixture with an infusion of new information.
No matter how long they have practiced or how familiar the project type, designers do not come to each project fully prepared. Like journalists with a beat, designers must boost their foundational knowledge with context‐ and project‐specific research. Each project is like a new article. We are wired to investigate leads, identify sources, conduct interviews, and ask tough questions to produce our “piece.” Design projects can be enormously complex. We gather intelligence and facts through research to develop a cogent and accurate design solution and story. Practitioners bring the knowledge gained on one design project to the next opportunity. It, too, will require research.
—Allyson Mendenhall
Research integrated with the design process enabled the Sasaki project team to prioritize thermal comfort at The Ellinikon Park site in Athens, Greece. Design for heat refuge provides public access to the beach as well as shade, water features, and cooling stations throughout the park (Sasaki).
4. Connection
Why are landscape architects driven to do research? Because we crave connection. Connection to dynamic ecologies. Connection to the communities in which we do work. Connection to the layers of the past and an optimistic future. We want to understand things more deeply so that we can maximize the impact of our work and make positive change in the world. Research allows us to deepen these connections through careful examination, inquisitive iteration, and search for synergies.
Driven by place and people, landscape architects are positioned to employ practice‐based research to bring further focus and in‐depth understanding to the complex relationships between natural systems and social systems. We are then positioned to leverage research findings to enrich our creative process, resulting in designs that are more responsive to the layered sites where we work.
Landscape architects are increasingly building connections across disciplines to ask new research questions, creating new opportunities, new synergies, new interventions. We are building linkages between generalists and specialists, between single variables and ever‐evolving systems, between site specificity and global patterns. Connections range from the microscopic to the expansive.
In this model, research amplifies the impact of landscape architecture. Research gives us a format to revisit implemented designs and investigate their efficacy. Did our intervention improve the linkages between community, environment, economics, and art? What can we learn from these complex relationships? How can we translate built work into new knowledge to deepen the connections between dynamic systems?
I challenge practitioners to integrate a pursuit of connection as a framework to better embed research into our accumulative design process, resulting in meaningful benefits to the communities and ecosystems that depend on our work.
—Margaret Plumb
Design Workshop staff engage with community members through metrics in Houston in October 2023. Design firms are increasingly integrating research into their practice, uncovering deeper connections between urban and social systems to create impactful and responsive landscapes (Design Workshop).
5. Discovery
Research is a form of discovery. With origins in the French word “rechercher,” meaning “to go about seeking,” research can be conceived as a journey, a search, or even a quest for new knowledge. The research, or seeking, process can be enlightening and meaningful in and of itself. As designers we tend to be innately curious people. We tinker with things. We seek to understand them. We strive to deliver the best work and always improve. By embarking on the journey of research we bring purpose and personal fulfillment to our work.
Beyond the confines of the personal, though, folding research into practice can be an incredibly powerful tool to justify our design decisions, first to ourselves and our peers and then to our clients and communities. Research brings rigor and legitimacy to an often aloof and opaque design process. It supplements the designer’s intuition with facts and evidence. “Why?” and “How?” are two of the most useful questions we can ask ourselves during the design process—why is this the best design element for this place, and is its size/location/form/function appropriate? How is this design element contributing to the big‐picture goals of this client/community/place? Research is a tool to answer these questions.
Sometimes these answers may be unexpected. In searching for the answers, we may uncover new knowledge or unexpected outcomes that force us to reexamine previous claims or methods. Sometimes this means acknowledging the faults in our old designs, projects, or methods, keeping our designers’ egos in check. This reexamining may cause anxiety or uncertainty, but we should not shy away from it. In fact, we should be slightly uncomfortable as we embark on the next design. This is good. We don’t know the “best” solution until we’ve explored the options and answered the “why” and the “how.” This zone of discomfort is a part of the design process and drives us to seek better answers and gain new knowledge that helps us to sit more comfortably with our decisions. But this restored sense of comfort lasts only briefly as we then reexamine our work, retest our methods, and learn that maybe another better and very different way exists. This cyclical research process ensures that we are always grounding our designs and improving them for the next project, people, and place.
—Lisa Hwang
6. Identity
Landscape architecture works with nature, cultivating experience and creating meaning. It is a practice rooted in place and human experience. I think one of the field’s most unique attributes is how it relates to all groups of people and disciplines, specifically the arts and sciences. To me, this is reminiscent of the concept of superposition in physics ‐ a phenomenon where something can exist in multiple states at one time. Landscape architecture thrives in a state of superposition. We must be careful when we interpret and visualize the medium as to not lose this extraordinary character.
Culturally, the qualitative and quantitative analysis methodologies employed in the sciences have been accepted as a gold standard to validate function, value, and relevance. Our industry has observed the applicative success of the fields of engineering, technology, and science. Naturally, similar methods are applied to the practice of landscape architecture. Terms such as “landscape performance” articulate impact and tangible significance, beckoning external validation using limited lenses. In leveraging the language of other industries, are we presenting an incomplete picture? Without rejecting these methods, it is important to articulate that the process of translating and applying such methodologies creates fragmented distillations of landscape architecture that can be powerful tools in selling ideas and approaches to stakeholders, but these filters lose the heart that defines landscape architecture.
We observe that research in landscape architecture becomes intuitively looser than scientific models developed for other industries because it involves the heart. We knit system to system, all the while shifting scales to be simultaneously broad and highly specific. Numbers and data points are often replaced with a gross understanding of impact and influence. It’s a process that logically links seemingly disparate questions, finding relevance through place and culture.
Research could stop at data analysis, but its success is most impactful when performance shows value through narrative, experience, connection, and the intangible spirit of place. This is a departure from the scientific method, where the heart guides a process with equal absolution. Perhaps we should redefine the process as Design Research. Design Research should be unapologetically itself—a model where art, science, nature, and culture must coexist with equal weight. It is anchored by the head and the heart.
—Allison Harvey
7. Boundaries
Landscape architects are increasingly preoccupied with edges. After all, what is climate change if not a forceful renegotiation of boundaries? Landscape architecture engages the boundaries between land and water, between wilderness and urbanity, between hardiness zones and across management regimes. Influenced by an ecological understanding of the significance of ecosystem edges, landscape architects tend to push back against the oversimplification of boundaries. We argue for softening and thickening coastlines. We design “porous” edges that facilitate human and non‐human movement. We implement landscape buffers and transition zones that allow active recreational or productive activities to exist alongside (or intertwined with) conservation areas. In fact, I would argue that landscape architecture is fundamentally an edge discipline. Our training prepares us to move lightly across boundaries and to be suspicious of hard divides. Between architecture and ecology, art and science, performance and affect, we are defined, as a profession, by our transectional qualities.
Why, then, do we continue to build practices and professional structures that feel more like concrete channels than like intertidal wetlands?
It is time for landscape architects to see our profession as a landscape of practice (Wenger, 1998) that can be studied through an ecological lens and designed for porosity, flexibility, and resilience. Practice‐based research provides one important vehicle for navigating, questioning, and reshaping many of our disciplinary ecotones.
Hard edges in professional practice, as in landscape ecology, are easy to understand and maintain, and they foster efficiency. Just as a channelized stream moves water quickly and predictably to its intended destination, a clearly defined professional scope of work facilitates efficiency and reduces ambiguity in the design process. We know, however, that rigidly engineered systems can stymie adaptation, and their eventual failure can be catastrophic. In contrast, ecotones, or thickened boundary zones between ecosystem units, tend to facilitate fluidity, exchange, and adaptive response to disruption. In the profession, these are qualities that we must cultivate.
In the name of productivity and optimization, we have engineered our professional structures to limit the need to slow down and ask critical questions. By limiting the need to ask questions, we have inadvertently eliminated our capacity to do so. This is due not to a lack of thoughtful practitioners, but rather to a set of rigidly engineered professional structures: standardized service models, contractual relationships (with clients, consultants, etc.), and financial frameworks.
Unbuilding a channelized river to support biodiversity and ecological function is hard work; and the decades of work that may have gone into reinforcing that channelized edge (through engineering, land use planning, etc.) cannot be reversed through wishful thinking or wholesale demolition. Similarly, a professional framework that not only incentivizes but oftentimes necessitates repetition over innovation and efficiency over care is not easy to strategically unbuild. Designing a new landscape of practice will require careful study and sustained reflection. It will also require risk‐taking and a willingness to lean into uncertainty, prototyping, inquiry, and iteration. Wishing for practitioners and scholars to “break down boundaries” or “work across silos” is not enough. We must design the space for ecotonal practices to thrive. Practice‐based research initiatives provide a model for cultivating ecotonal practice zones that have the potential to complicate and enrich the disciplinary boundaries that we know today to be too stiff, too thin, too simple, and too brittle to survive the shocks that the world has in store.
—Rebecca Popowsky
Supplementing traditional in‐person and virtual community engagement techniques, LandDesign deploys in‐house developed Accessibility Analysis tools that use GIS data and tracking technology to better understand the behavioral patterns of park visitors (LandDesign).
Part 2: Approach
While Part 1 focused on personal and individual motivations for undertaking research in practice, Part 2 takes a deeper look at approach—the mechanisms for how research happens in professional design firms. The findings below are intended to be informative for practitioners along the spectrum from firm leadership to entry‐level design staff. Readers may hope to engage in research projects but not yet see a path to doing so in their practice model, or they may simply be curious people who want knowledge creation to play a larger role in the way they practice. These insights may also be of interest to academics and others who seek to partner with practitioners on research projects.
Through interviews and surveys, Part 2 illustrates how 21 design firms are pursuing research in practice and describes two new primary motivations and two new models. This expansion of the work of Robert Ryan (2023) adds new concepts and detail. It concludes with practical advice and areas for further study.
Background
Numerous studies have described how firms are pursuing research (Chen, 2013), but Robert Ryan’s 2023 pilot study of nine design firms is particularly important because it defines categories of research in practice that capture the varied approaches firms are taking. Below, Ryan’s pilot study is replicated with additional firms, revealing new drivers, mechanisms, approaches, and outcomes for research in professional practice.
Limitations to pursuing research in practice have been well documented and thoroughly discussed, including during the authors’ roundtable conversations. Some of the most notable problems are a lack of shared definitions, limited time and funding, a lack of client interest, the need to balance multiple priorities across project stakeholders, and concerns about expertise and rigor. Other sources of angst stem from the tensions between science and design—and consequently between academia and practice—inherent to the discipline. Rather than expounding upon limitations and focusing on what firms cannot do, this study seeks to capture what firms are actually doing.
Methods
Ryan’s pilot study was expanded by replicating interviews with an additional 12 design firms. A new survey was also implemented with responses from a total of 21 firms, including eight of the nine original firms interviewed by Ryan.
Though the working definition of “research” described in Part 1 was used as a starting point, for this study any activities a firm deemed to be research were captured. This approach meets practice on its own terms, as opposed to “gatekeeping” the definition of research.
Firms were selected for interviews and/or surveys based on two criteria: 1) they had been previously identified under Ryan’s criteria but did not participate or 2) they are known by LAF to be engaging in research activities to some degree. Replicating Ryan’s approach, staff in charge of research activities at firms were invited to participate in the interview and survey. Where this position did not exist, firms self‐selected staff with the best knowledge of the firm’s research activities to participate. Surveys and interviews were administered and analyzed solely by LAF staff; the other coauthors of this article assisted in writing the survey.
Interviews
Interviewees were contacted via email, and interviews were held during one‐hour online meetings. Ryan’s interview questions were duplicated exactly, with questions on “1) the type of research conducted by the firm, 2) the role of research within professional practices and funded projects, 3) motivations for engaging in research, and 4) the type of personnel and skills needed to engage in research. A follow‐up question addressed the importance of teaching research within landscape architectural education and the types of skills and methods the interviewees considered the most necessary for future practitioners,” (Ryan, 2023). (See Interview Questions in the Appendix.)
Fifteen firms were contacted, and 12 firms participated in the interview. Some firms had only one staff member participate—most often a dedicated research staff member or firm leadership. Other firms had two staff members participate—most commonly firm leadership with early‐career staff. Of the 17 total people interviewed, nine were in leadership roles (partner/principal), three were director‐level employees, and five were design staff. Four interviewees had full‐ or part‐time roles that are specifically focused on research.
Surveys
The 31‐question survey, which utilized primarily multiple choice or checkbox options with opportunities for writing in responses and making comments, was distributed via email, and responses were collected and analyzed using SurveyMonkey. Questions focused on: 1) basic firm information, 2) staffing and funding mechanisms, 3) motivations, 4) types of research including topics and methodologies, 5) outputs and dissemination, and 6) perceived firm‐level and project‐level outcomes of research activities. The survey also asked about respondents’ aspirations for integrating research in their practice and how academic research informs their practice. (See Survey Questions in the Appendix.)
Twenty‐four firms were contacted, and 21 participated in the survey. The survey was filled out by individuals at each firm who were judged to have best knowledge of the firms’ research activities.
Participating Firms
Most of the firms that participated in the study primarily do public, institutional, or commercial client‐driven work. Some also do private residential projects as part of their practice. Firms that do only residential work and single‐person firms were not represented, with one exception. Among the 21 total firms participating in the interviews and/or surveys:
29% provide primarily landscape architecture/landscape design services; 43% provide landscape architecture, planning, and urban design services, and 28% are multidisciplinary firms that encompass landscape architecture, architecture, engineering, and beyond.
33% are relatively small (1–50 employees), 19% are medium‐size (51–100), 24% are large (101–200), and 24% are very large (201+ employees).
47% have between one and three offices, 38% have four to eight offices, and 14% have twelve or more offices.
All are based in the United States, but some have international offices and/or work internationally. The firms are located throughout the United States, especially where multiple offices are concerned, although the East and West Coasts are more represented because a higher proportion of landscape architecture firms are in these regions.
Results
Findings were largely similar to those in Ryan’s study, but due to the larger sample size, they provide additional detail and insight into the current state of research in practice. The results presented below are a selection of the overall findings that most effectively expand upon Ryan and those that are the most novel.
Motivations: Why Do Firms Pursue Research?
Ryan identified three primary motivations: to solve complex problems, to advance the profession, and for recruitment and retention (2023). This study provides new details about the primary motivations described by Ryan and presents additional primary motivations: curiosity and connection, and expertise‐building.
Solve complex problems: This motivation, first described by Ryan, rang true throughout all interviews and most surveys. One interviewed firm leader described their firm’s motivation for research as “coming from anybody who is working on a project and hits a roadblock, and they realize they just don’t know enough about how to solve a problem.” A firm founder said: “It’s hard to build landscapes that are successful—so a lot of our research is about reaching for achieving excellence. We want our projects to perform well and to last a long time so that people can enjoy them for generations. Research contributes to that goal.” Interviewees described research as originating in a need to fill a very specific area of knowledge related to new clients or areas of practice; three firms said they engaged in research activities to inform themselves when working on projects that involve vulnerable populations—for example Indigenous communities, people with autism, or people who are deaf or hard of hearing.
Advance the profession: This motivation, described by Ryan, was represented in all interviews and survey responses. Firm leadership was particularly likely to express a sense of responsibility to the discipline. One firm spoke about the importance of open‐source data sharing to make their research transparent and accessible for the profession and clients/communities, describing “a spirit of generosity in how we position the sharing of our research work; we don’t design for positive change for just our firm, but we design for positive change across the design industry and our clients at large.”
Recruitment and retention: The last of three primary motivations described by Ryan, was selected as a main driver for research by 33% of surveyed firms. In interviews, this theme emerged more prominently, with almost every interviewed firm expressing a desire to invest in their people. One research staff member described their internal research grant program as a way to engage employees: “We have passionate, creative employees that are really curious, and we want to help them pursue their interests even if that’s outside of the typical project bounds . . . with incubator research grants, the people who are submitting the research questions are the ones who are in the weeds of doing design work every day.”
For recruitment, interviewees often spoke about recent graduates’ desire to engage in research. One interviewee described graduating landscape architecture students as “increasingly looking for firms that offer research opportunities or at the very least mechanisms to pursue their curiosity and areas of interest as they enter the workforce.” Another interviewee reported that during hiring interviews, recent graduates responded very well to the fact that their firm has an internal research program, and a third firm reported hearing from an employee that their internal research grant program was the reason they joined the firm. A research director spoke about being contacted by people with research interests and skills who, upon emerging from their academic experience, were hoping to stitch their research interests into productive real‐life spaces.
In terms of retention, one interviewee spoke about the desire to support their staff generally while recognizing that staff were all very different and that an internal research grant program allowed employees with diverse interests to each be energized in their own ways. A firm principal said, “We see involvement in research—the opportunity to step back and ask questions—as a kind of employee benefit. The generation going through school now is being taught about the importance of research, but when they get out into the profession it feels like ‘work, work, work’ while they are learning the trade. They need to know that deep thinking is still open to them. Really, we all need to be disciplined to make sure schedule doesn’t overtake our interest in big questions.”
Curiosity and Connection
Although this idea emerges in Ryan’s study, this study confirms, elevates, and builds upon the notion of curiosity as a primary motivation for research in practice. When asked to reflect on the most important motivations for research, the word “curiosity” prevailed among all 12 interviewed firms—with one firm describing their firm as having a “culture of voracious curiosity.” This theme was highlighted in how often interviewees became extremely animated when talking about their efforts—truly “nerding out” on their favorite research questions and projects (in the best way possible). A senior associate spoke about research as a way to create space: “In a deadline‐driven profession, you need white space for creativity to flourish. To keep fresh with your creativity sometimes you need to step out of the day‐to‐day, so fueling that sense of curiosity is a primary motivator that helps our people stay nourished creatively.”
The idea of fostering curiosity through research activities has obvious links to employee recruitment and retention, but interviews revealed another layer—connection. Specifically curiosity‐driven research, which is driven by individual staff based on their own interests, was described by more than half of interviewees as an essential connector—a reason to get together and share ideas beyond day‐to‐day project work. The interviews made clear that research activities play a key role in community‐building, facilitating otherwise challenging connections between staff in disparate roles, at geographically dispersed offices, in different areas of practice, and across disciplines for interdisciplinary firms. One partner described their firm as a group of curious people with “a desire to work with other curious people.” An interviewed partner at a mature firm described a technique to reinforce curiosity and connection: he asks an employee to more deeply investigate a specific topic area that relates to a project and observes them immediately move from a “what’s my task” mode into a mode of excitement and curiosity. He cited the following benefits of this approach: it reinforces the idea that even partners at the firm do not know everything, fosters a culture of curiosity, produces better design work as designers feel more engaged, and helps him get to know the firm’s staff and their interests.
Expertise‐Building
The most common primary motivations for research in practice as reported in the survey were: firm differentiation (48%), expertise‐building for new types of work (43%), and exploring novel solutions (38%). These overlap with two motivations outlined by Ryan (2023)—solve complex problems and advance the profession—but add a layer that is more self‐aware as firms work to develop a level of expertise, to be more impactful, and/or to pursue new kinds of project work. Another aspect that emerged in the interviews was the concept of landscape performance as a key driver for research in firms. This concept has links to expertise‐building in terms of understanding the impacts of design and having data on specific types of impacts to confirm expertise and specialization. One interdisciplinary firm’s research director spoke about the need to have evidence to build trust in the design process, responding to clients who ask more sophisticated questions about projects.
The idea of expertise‐building also functions at an individual staff level. One firm principal noted that their travel grant program plays a key role in establishing expertise within the firm. When a staff member receives a grant in their area of interest and then presents their findings to the firm, they become known as specializing in that area. When they are known to have that focus, staff throughout the firm will reach out to them when that topic arises in projects.
Models: What Structures Support Research in Practice?
Having a formalized structure for research activities was relatively common but certainly not universal among surveyed firms: 57% reported having a dedicated research entity—for example, a lab or group; 5% (1) were in the process of creating one; and 38% currently did not have and did not plan to create one. Several firms described ongoing internal conversations about how formalized, or not formalized, their research efforts should be and talked about testing out different models to understand what was most effective for their firm.
For staffing, with multiple selections allowed, 32% of the surveyed firms reported having dedicated full‐time research staff; 89% reported staffing research part‐time by design staff; 10% reported working with outside consultants managed by staff. Survey comments and interviews described research initiatives being driven by close collaboration with clients, stakeholders, and partners (see Collaboration).
Robert Ryan identified five models for practice‐based research: R&D labs, post‐occupancy, inquiry, individual grants, and a nonprofit structure. He described organizational structures for research in firms on a spectrum from informal/organic to formal/structured, alongside the level of research integration in projects (Ryan, 2023).
This study clarifies that more than one of these models can be utilized in a single firm (for example, a firm with an R&D lab model can also offer individual grants). The study also expands upon two of Ryan’s models (one based on individual grants and another based on a nonprofit structure) to propose two new models, one that replies on staff specialists and another driven by academia.
Individual grants–based model
Fifty percent of interviewed firms (six) reported having internal research grants, two of which are travel grants, and one firm plans to expand on their travel grant with an additional, more targeted research grant. Among interviewed firms, all internal grants programs were initiated between 2016 and 2019. Internal grants vary in level of formalization and mode of implementation, but all involve some level of support for individual staff members or teams to pursue research projects, along a spectrum of tightly to loosely defined—mostly outside of project work but sometimes as part of a project. Grants were reported as open to employees at all levels, including across all disciplines for interdisciplinary firms.
At all firms, prospective grantees submit research proposals for consideration by committees of either firm leadership or mixed staff levels. One firm also incorporates external reviewers in their selection process. Proposals are mostly submitted through an annual or regular call for proposals, though one firm reported that grants could also be requested on an ad hoc basis. One interviewee described a multi‐phase process with an informal call for ideas that precedes a more formal application, allowing for matchmaking across the firm to pair people with similar interests after the first stage. Half of the firms with research grants reported providing their grantees with time, and the other half provide both time and financial support. Interviewees reported providing between 20 and 150 hours of time over the course of six months to a year for grantees to pursue their research interests. Some firms also offer structured or unstructured mentorship from firm leadership, research staff, or previous grant recipients, and one firm notably hires an outside consultant to support staff in communicating their ideas in an elevator‐style pitch while they compete for a grant. At two firms, internal research staff help their grantees in pursuing external, supplementary grant support. Firms provide between one and six grants per year, with the numbers varying from year to year. On average, 2.5 grants are provided per year per firm. Most firms described fixed annual budgets to support their grant programs.
All firms said that their grantees report back on their projects and findings to the firm via internal intranet or presentations. Some described grant programs as incubators for ongoing efforts; for example, an Active Transportation Guide utilized internally throughout one firm started in their internal grant program, and at another firm a grant recipient went on to create a toolkit and resource guide about sod alternatives for growers and local nurseries. Most firms reported sharing grantee findings publicly in some form, most often through blog posts on firm websites or social media, but several expressed that they wished they did a better job of communicating grant activities and findings, with one interviewee referring to communication as an “Achilles’ heel.” Several firms reported that their staff had presented grant work at conferences or in other public venues, while others had employees present their findings internally, for example at all‐staff meetings.
Nonprofit model
Ryan’s research included one nonprofit firm, and this study includes one additional interdisciplinary nonprofit that pursues research activities. This firm’s research agenda as a nonprofit is centered around being a “lighthouse organization” and thought leader, making the case and showing proof‐of‐concept to national governments, cities, client partners, communities, and philanthropic funders for work that promotes justice and human dignity. One key driver for research is described by the firm’s senior principal: “In order to find ways of catalyzing systemic change and to provide the highest possible levels of positive social, environmental and economic impact locally, we’ve used applied research to develop processes and tools that allow us to dive deeply into context that we share online with open‐source methods.” Another major aspect of their research initiatives is a series of philanthropically funded labs with various areas of focus that use research as aspirational provocations for clients, putting forth and testing ideas that may not have a specific market. The goal is to increase impact and agency by finding partners who share those ambitions and support projects that can achieve some level of systemic change. See more under Funding.
Staff specialist model
As previously stated, this article adds two more models for research in practice to Ryan’s five. The first of these is based on staff specialists. Staff who are properly positioned and supported within a firm can bring remarkable energy and expertise to firm research initiatives. Even without firm‐wide integration of research initiatives and specific programming, a single passionate and informed staff member can support ad hoc research efforts and positive outcomes for the firm. Two of the interviewees described serving as essential resources within their firms, for example by answering technical questions about research methods, helping staff formulate research questions, or supporting internal grantees in communicating their knowledge and findings. An interviewed firm interested in boosting its research capacity, specifically by implementing more metrics to evaluate the impacts of its projects, created a new position for a part‐time staff member to lead this effort. Another interviewee at a large firm talked about being a matchmaker who connects different networks and information, bringing people together around research projects. She noted the tendency at larger firms to be focused on entering a design solution space as quickly as possible; she felt that her role as research director was to create value from the knowledge that’s being generated through the work.
Academia‐driven model
The second new model that emerged from surveys and interviews is driven by academic concerns and involves firms with robust ties to academia. At one interviewed firm, the founders teach full‐time at a university. The interviewees from this firm described the relationship with the university as being essential to bringing new ideas into their practice. This firm has a distinct approach to research focused on policy change and broader disciplinary theory about the public realm: the firm views its research as a form of advocacy for the discipline and for the value of high‐quality public space. Two other interviewed firms were founded by academics that were actively teaching at the time that they founded the firms, and although that was early in the firms’ history, the influence still lingers. Another large interdisciplinary firm reported multiple staff members currently engaging in teaching and bringing their teaching and research into the firm. Out of all the interviewed firms, the only two to specifically talk about rigor as a goal for their research activities were from the academia‐driven group. Interviewed firms with strong academic ties were less likely to have independent research arms or dedicated (titled) research staff, but, compared to their peers, in interviews they were most adept at specifically describing how research informs their work.
Other models
The interviews revealed several unique models that defy classification. One firm described having a standard, formalized discussion pre‐project about whether any potential research opportunities could be embedded within a project as part of the decision‐making process before taking on a project. Another model was opportunistic: two firms described having the capacity to pursue staff‐driven research during the COVID‐19 pandemic due to a lull in billable work; for example, one firm did a formal evaluation of their community engagement practices. Another unique model involves acquisition: one interviewed firm already had some of its own research activities but decided to merge with a firm that had a research arm. By embracing the other firm’s expertise, the acquiring firm was able to further integrate research into its practice.
Models and firm maturity
Ultimately the model, or combination of models, that a firm chooses is heavily dependent on its history, business structure, type of work, staff size and capacity, and more. It was observed during the interviews that more mature firms and their leadership—those with over ten years or even decades of experience—had a comfortable and confident way of discussing their research initiatives. Several interviewed staff at firms that have more recently pursued research—or firms that are mature but do not have dedicated research arms/staff—expressed significant admiration for the more visible models of practice‐based research in the discipline, but they felt that those models were unattainable and could not be replicated by their smaller, less resourced, and/or newer firms. Generally, younger firms seemed more driven to pursue big questions, while mature firms seemed more confident in their accumulated body of knowledge and were more relaxed in how they think about research—although of course they continue to pursue big questions too. One mature firm described its more relaxed approach to integrating research as a “non‐method method.” Interviews illustrated potential for evolution in how research is integrated within practice over the life of a firm. One partner with many years of experience said, “When I started at the firm, research was very intuitive and just part of being curious and interested in things, but more and more it’s finding a more pointed application.” Another interviewee described research as something that their firm was only able to focus on once it matured out of the “just get work” early years and cleared challenges like the 2008 recession. A mature firm’s founder described their firm’s origins as being entirely centered on design, but because “curiosity always gets the better of us,” they organically moved toward research as projects, people, and interests developed within their office.
This dynamic also played out on an individual level. Staff in the early stages of their careers as well as experienced staff newer to research described their research activities and aspirations with enthusiasm but some trepidation. This was particularly noticeable among staff charged with the implementation of formalized or quasi‐formalized research initiatives. Several interviewees at firms that recently launched research initiatives described a sense of imposter syndrome; they felt unsure about whether their training and background qualified them to undertake research projects or the management of research activities. One interviewee expressed surprise that the interviewer would even be interested in hearing about what their firm was doing with their internal research initiatives. A handful of interviewees, especially those not in leadership roles, expressed feelings of “going it alone” and a strong desire to connect with and learn from other firms and practitioners who were implementing research in practice.
Funding: How is Research Funded?
Echoing Ryan’s findings, the firms in this study reported funding their activities primarily through overhead, with notable exceptions and some creative approaches. Although surveys indicated that some clients are paying for research, interviewees mostly described research efforts as more often funded through overhead or external funding.
Some firms described research activities as never being written into a contract, entered as a line item, or advertised as a service, but about a third of interviewees described either directly or indirectly speaking about research activities with their clients. One firm founder reported that when appropriate, they convey to clients that their approach to every project is with fresh eyes accompanied by a substantial background in comparable work, and that an essential part of that is doing research on the project. However, they cautioned that this approach requires care because some clients may feel that the research piece isn’t necessary. A firm principal shared his aspirations for how their internal research grant program might progress: initially, the grants require investing the firm’s overhead to better understand what knowledge is so important to clients that it needs to become part of the firm’s workflow. Eventually, he hopes to be able to show that a given project could not take place without the research component. The final goal is to be able to speak to clients effectively about why this research is important and part of the fee. A firm principal pointed to specific client types as being more likely to support research: “Institutional clients tend to be more focused on legacy projects and are more likely to appreciate the value of research, although that does not necessarily mean that resources are available.”
Collaboration: What Partnerships Are Firms Forming to Pursue Research?
The importance of working with faculty and students was a common theme. One survey respondent said, “Looking to answer questions that have not yet been answered is very tough to do when you have a day job as a landscape architect . . . . There is a huge lag time between what science knows and what landscape architecture can absorb and incorporate into practice. By digging through the literature, we find academic partners who can show us new and potentially better practices. Our objective is to offer our sites as laboratories, in partnership with these researchers.” Interns and students contributed to many firms’ research efforts. Examples include a firm that hosted ten weeks of a PhD student’s research, a firm that hosted an intern who made bi‐weekly presentations to design staff (one of which was titled “research 101”), and a firm hiring an intern full‐time following a research‐based internship on equity in the design process.
An interdisciplinary firm’s research director spoke to connections with academia in terms of disciplines: “Researchers across different academic disciplines are so different in how they see the world. By understanding that, we on the applied research side—in practice—can draw from all of those views without getting siloed . . . . It’s a fluid, dynamic, exciting space because we feed the academics with new ideas and access, and we can also re‐energize designers with a better understanding of the long‐term impacts of the work that they are doing.”
Structured programs hosted by universities to support student learning represent a potential collaborative model for landscape architecture firms. A handful of interviewed firms had participated in the University of Washington’s Applied Research Consortium (ARC), which matches interdisciplinary built environment firms with graduate student researchers and faculty to pursue research projects (University of Washington, n.d.). Participating students lead a year‐long research project in collaboration with their design firm host, which also provides an internship. One interviewed firm ultimately hired a student intern from the ARC program who is now heavily involved in research initiatives at the firm. However, the ARC program requires a significant investment of time and firm capacity (including the internship and a financial contribution to the university), and one firm expressed the view that the program’s short time frame was not a good fit for landscape‐related research, since landscapes are slow to fully mature and multi‐season studies are preferable. Several universities have similar AEC‐targeted programs with varying levels of commitment required, such as the Master’s Project program at the University of Michigan School for Environment and Sustainability, which invites “clients” (firms) to submit ideas for collaborative study with students (University of Michigan, n.d.). However, university‐hosted collaborations are sometimes (but not always) geographically limited and are not guaranteed to yield satisfying results for firms since they rely on the alignment of research interests across the host firm, faculty, and students. This is not always achievable, even with careful matchmaking and the participants’ best efforts.
People: Who are the Drivers of Research Activities within Firms?
Where dedicated research staff were interviewed, they were observed to be either 1) extremely curious people (see the staff specialist model) or 2) skilled connectors that excel at bringing people together internally as well as externally with clients or research collaborators (see the curiosity and connection motivation). Additional characteristics of the people who most often drive research in firms were revealed in interviews:
Many were student‐employees: Staff who are current students pursuing MLAs or PhDs often bring their research into the firm. For example, one interviewee described how a current staff member created a transportation modeling tool, now used firm‐wide, in connection with research for their thesis. Another spoke about an employee who teaches planting design and has created a plant database for office use that the firm now maintains as a living resource.
Many were landscape architects: At interdisciplinary firms, landscape architects were generally perceived by those interviewed to be just as active in research, if not more so, as their peers in architecture, engineering, or other allied disciplines. One research director from a large interdisciplinary firm said that landscape architects are often leaders in applied research because they are so comfortable working at scale and embracing change and evolution, as compared to other disciplines such as architecture. A partner at an interdisciplinary firm described a constant internal conversation about how to effectively transfer architecture‐based research into landscape and site design. They estimated that at least 75% of landscape architects within their firm had participated in research programs, and that at least half of current research projects have a landscape component.
They were not necessarily trained in research: Interviews revealed that the people pursuing research activities at firms are not necessarily those with traditional training in research methods (e.g., not all of them have an MLA or PhD). Several firms reported that those with BLA degrees engage just as much in research activities as those with more research‐oriented backgrounds from their education. On the other hand, two firms reported hiring mostly MLAs, and therefore most of their research activities were conducted by MLAs.
They worked at various levels in their firms: Finally, interviewees almost universally described research as initiated and carried out at all staff levels, from firm leadership to entry‐level design staff. Several credited communications staff with a key role in disseminating findings. One firm founder felt that the staff most engaged in research efforts were those with three‐to‐five years of experience at the firm who already had their “sea legs under them” and could embrace their curiosity.
Methods: What Methods Are Most Commonly Utilized?
The 21 surveyed firms reported a wide range of methods, including: data analysis (76%), baseline data collection (71%), mapping (71%), behavioral observation (67%), case studies or precedent studies (67%), literature review (67%), surveys of people (67%), historical or cultural place‐based research (62%), and materials testing (57%). The interviews revealed notable differences in research methods across different firm types:
At firms with social/people‐focused missions and project work, qualitative methods were more common (although not to the exclusion of quantitative methods). These firms also seemed to rely more on collaboration with people in the social sciences and community knowledge‐holders for their research activities. One firm spoke about research as a primary avenue for building trust with communities by asking good questions, sharing the results, and taking on a “more research‐like attitude” that is transparent and collaborative. A different firm with a community engagement focus spoke about projects moving “at the speed of trust,” indicating that a research approach faces challenges from the uncertain timelines associated with community engagement. Another firm spoke about relationship‐building itself as a research method.
Ecologically focused firms tended toward more quantitative methods and relied more on collaborations with scientists for their research activities, albeit not to the exclusion of qualitative methods.
Firms offering a range of services often used varied research methods. An interviewee at a smaller interdisciplinary firm said, “Research in practice is better when it isn’t so siloed into a single discipline . . . . Within our practice model, rather than always approaching research from the landscape architectural perspective, we can shift and pivot depending on disciplines, and the disciplines see research questions differently, making it far more robust. This multidisciplinarity changes how we ask the question and how we go about trying to answer the question.” One firm that started their practice in healthcare described a move from more rigid, quantitative methodologies that are inherent to the medical field into a more qualitative approach as their practice expanded into new types of projects and site design—for example, evaluating user experience through surveys and interviews.
Large firms were more likely to pursue multiple ways of approaching research. An interviewee at a large firm said: “Research has such a sweet spot in large firms. Not just because they have overhead, but also because they have scale—patterns of both design habits and effects across multiple projects. It’s not a question of generalizing specifically cause and effect, but understanding the effect that the built environment has on people and the planet—which is really important to us.”
Products: What Results from Research Activities?
All the firms surveyed reported conveying their research process and findings most commonly through whitepapers, reports, or toolkits as well as talks and presentations. Write‐in responses described the production of marketing brochures and prototypes, app creation, and integration of findings in client deliverables.
Research findings were reported as shared within each firm through presentations (100% of respondents); PDFs, webpages, or publications (62%); intranet (52%); and firm newsletter or write‐up (33%). In the survey and interviews, firms described sharing findings through interactive internal tools, committee/working group discussions, podcasts, intra‐office summary booklets, and annual firm‐wide share‐out meetings.
Three interviewed firms highlighted the importance/utility of tools and resources created for internal use through research initiatives. Two interviewed practitioners reflected that some of the products resulting from either internal or collaborative research were not particularly useful to the firm, with one firm citing challenges where outside collaborators research goals were not fully aligned with the firm’s. Several firms talked about the added value for their staff of having opportunities to present at conferences or contribute to books, journals, and articles.
Outcomes: What Are the Outcomes of Research in Practice at the Firm and Project Levels?
At the firm level, survey respondents reported the following outcomes: lessons learned applied to future projects (86%), improved staff recruiting (71%), new/increased project opportunities (71%), recognition for research efforts and/or built work (71%), improved quality of work (67%), improved staff retention (61%), increased continuing education opportunities (38%), influence on policy change (38%), greater client satisfaction (33%), and increased billing for research activities/expertise (19%).
For several firms, there was a neat alignment between the primary motivator (38%) and reported outcome (38%) of affecting policy. Policy can refer to collaboration and advocacy with local, city, and county governments for updates in local codes or regulations to accommodate a specific project or proposed intervention, or it can refer to large‐scale policy influence on things like land planning. One firm reported that their research activities primarily focus on advocacy and the mechanisms of policy and economics behind the creation of the public realm, while another spoke about helping shape local codes like Seattle’s Green Factor.
Surveyed firms reported the following positive outcomes resulting from their research activities: more innovative solutions (81%); better adaptation to future conditions (81%); more ecological value/biodiversity (71%); improved environmental, social, or economic performance (71%); better fit for community/users (67%); more sustainability—for example, through lower carbon impacts (62%); and more inclusive/accessible spaces (62%). In terms of project‐based outcomes, improved environmental, social, and economic performance and “better” design based on multiple criteria were often described in interviews and surveys, with economic outcomes less often reported. The reason for this may be that economic outcomes are more complex to evaluate than some environmental and social performance aspects.
Finally, the interviews provided a more layered understanding of where firms are not achieving what they had hoped with their research activities. Several interviewees spoke about the challenges of working out how to systematically apply lessons learned from research activities to their practice and firm processes. Firms also commonly spoke about the need to better communicate their outputs and outcomes to the rest of the discipline and their peers.
When asked how research has ultimately affected their firms’ work, the surveyed firms reported access to new information (90%), new processes (86%), and new tools (67%). In comments and interviews, participants reported examples in which research catalyzed new internal and external collaborations and new types of work, updating firm‐wide specifications and standards.
Relationship to Academia: How Do Firms Relate to University Programs and Research?
Interviews and surveys also investigated connections to academia, including whether practitioners felt that landscape architecture students should receive training in research and which skills are most important, as well as whether academic research supports their firm’s needs.
All interviewed practitioners responded that it was important for students to receive research training as part of their education, but with important caveats. Interviewees overwhelmingly felt that the most important research‐related training for students was (1) critical thinking and (2) how to ask or frame a question. One firm founder said “I’m not sure whether it’s that we want incoming designers to be better researchers, but we want them to be better critical thinkers, to be curious, to be able to see things at both specific and global scales. We want them to come into the profession and into the world with curiosity and engagement and critical thinking.” Another interviewee with a research role noted that the most compelling studio projects come from students who can think critically around issues, and that “the magic of the profession is being able to ask questions and explore how those questions would play out in space.”
Generally, respondents were less concerned about whether students were trained in “hard” research skills like specific research methods, and some stated that students could easily learn those skills on the job.
Other desirable skills described by interviewees include:
Communication skills: Four interviewees suggested that training in how to represent the research process and findings can support a larger suite of needed communication skills.
Scoping: Three interviewees touched on the importance of being able to narrow and scope a research project or question, with one firm founder saying: “There has to be a research question. There is a tremendous amount of information out there; you can get lost in a morass unless you keep your eye on the prize. It’s one thing to go off on a tangent because it’s a branch of what you’re researching, it’s another thing not to have a focus.”
Qualitative data analysis: One firm principal singled out “being able to look at the range of research methods that are available, in particular the ability to look at qualitative data. You can crunch the numbers in all kinds of ways, but being able to interpret both what is said and what is not, which is often the richest piece to mine, with qualitative methods is important.”
Case studies: Two interviewees spoke to the importance of students having familiarity with case studies and knowledge of projects, particularly in terms of landscape performance data on what did and did not work that can be quickly applied to new projects.
Interviews also touched on the limitations and challenges of teaching research skills in university programs. Three interviewees (two of whom are either current or former educators) expressed sensitivity to “adding on” too much to already jam‐packed university curricula. Two firm leaders clarified that, as important as research skills are, design skills and form‐making are still the core of the profession. One mature firm’s founder began their interview by acknowledging that they would never claim as a firm or a person to engage in the same level of research as their partners in academic research or those with PhDs. This interviewee highlighted the importance of the research that designers do in supporting good, responsible design, not in advancing specific knowledge around a given subject matter. An interviewed research director framed the studio model of university programs as somewhat limiting to research: “We need to recognize that the traditional design process of getting a designer to emphatically pose a solution and defend it needs to be not tempered, but complemented, by the ability to ask critical questions about the solutions being put forward. And that’s not how Studio is set up.”
One interviewee summarized the importance of research skills in university programs as they translate into practice: “Research skills are so transferable to the workplace and the project process. Maybe not in the sense of knowing the scientific method, but the general skills that come with doing research: systematic thinking, reasoning, organization, finding good sources, and validating your data sources. Those things are all highly relevant to the basic landscape architecture project process. Also, at the end of your research process you have to communicate findings back out: efficiently and effectively explain your methods, your sources, why you made this decision. That communication piece is huge for landscape architecture practice as well.”
With one survey question, this study only scraped the surface of how current academic research informs practice. Surveyed firms almost exclusively felt that academic research findings did not meet their needs in the execution of design work—responding that it sometimes (71%), rarely (14%), or not at all (10%) met their needs. Only one respondent said that academic research findings completely met their needs. One survey respondent expanded upon their response with the following statement: “Translation is often needed to meet designers where they are.” Survey respondents reported most often referencing or utilizing books (100%), open‐access peer reviewed scholarly journals (94%), news/magazines (72%), professional/trade publications such as Landscape Architecture Magazine (67%), government publications (67%), and peer‐reviewed scholarly journals with subscription fees (44%). Although exploring firms’ engagement with academic research was not a primary area of study for this article, it provides some confirmation of the larger body of evidence of less‐than‐robust links between what is studied in academia and what the professional market requires.
Aspirations: How Would Firms Engage in Research Given No Limitations?
Finally, the survey asked respondents about how, in their wildest dreams and with no limitations in terms of cost, capacity, and other practical considerations, they would integrate research in their practice. The responses primarily focused on:
Expansion of what the firm is already doing, by adding more dedicated research staff, pursuing more/new types of research projects, or expanding internal research grant programs
Implementing a more systematic approach to research in the design process and applying the findings to future work. This could include allowing space for “basic science” questions that may not have specific outcomes, making research efforts sustainable with iterative processes, and systematically building a body of knowledge
Making baseline data collection and analysis, along with post‐occupancy evaluation, standard and integral to contracts for all projects
Dedicating research staff to all project teams, the pursuit of grant opportunities, and specific research labs with targeted focuses
Increasing collaborations with academics, scientists, engineers, fabricators, and beyond
Testing design ideas, including with plants and ecosystems, on physical land
Improving access to academic and professional research that is not beyond a paywall
Increasing the use of research to inform advocacy and policy change
More effectively disseminating findings through interactive, open‐access means to build upon innovations industry‐wide
One respondent said, “Ideally there is a loop that gets created where the system you have initiated becomes sustainable and self‐perpetuating.” Another respondent dreamed of “a place to test ideas,” while another felt that the discipline “lack(s) a large‐scale certified research entity that is driving industry research with needs statements and funding to deliver best practices outside of project/firm/academic funded sources.”
In the surveys and interviews, firms’ responses concerning their aspirations touched on the ongoing debates over what constitutes “research.” One survey respondent wrote: “Research is not always systematic. It can be an organic and flexible exploration which often originates from an advantageous situation—often unexpected. In addition to contributing to a body of knowledge, in our industry research reaches ultimate success when it is applied and reapplied.” Another survey respondent said, “In cases where a project’s site inventory or analysis, or public engagement process, goes above and beyond a standard project, I consider that to be ‘research activity’ that contributes greatly to a body of knowledge, in particular knowledge of a specific place or community. The methods of research may not be systematic or documented in a replicable way as in the scientific method, but the deep inquiry into a place or people is something I would consider research.” Although many of the firms that were interviewed and surveyed described their research activities as being relatively “ad hoc,” “amorphous,” or “opportunistic,” patterns of dedication, intention, and progress over time were clearly legible.
Limitations
This is a limited study of a relatively small sample of landscape architecture and interdisciplinary firms, many of which are well‐known within the discipline. Although the firms chosen for the survey represented a diversity of factors such as geography and practice type, the study is inherently limited by the small sample size. While selection criteria were based on LAF’s organizational knowledge and experience, this study could be replicated with any firm that identifies as pursuing research. The survey questions, while useful for quantitative analysis, were more limited in capturing the nuances of how firms are implementing research in practice, with details emerging much more clearly in the interviews. Participating firms were given a range of choices about how they would be named in the study, including the option to remain anonymous. Concerns about how a firm is named or portrayed in the study could have affected how it responded to the survey and/or interview questions. Questions relating to a respondent’s perception of things like outcomes of pursuing research were not independently validated. Although each firm was asked to involve the person most familiar with their research activities, differences among the survey respondents in terms of level within their firm and knowledge of research activities may have affected responses, along with the number of participants (one or two) from a given firm.
Recommendations
Part 2 demonstrates how research is reshaping practice for those who undertake it, even with highly varied models. It also shows impact: many of the interviewed and surveyed firms began pursuing research activities within the past five to ten years, and they already report positive outcomes. Based on everything that was observed in the interviews and surveys, the following recommendations are offered for firms and practitioners seeking to enter or expand this unique area of their practice:
A firm interested in integrating research into their practice does not have to follow a specific script or choose just one model. They do not need to operate exactly, or even approximately, as an academic institution would. As illustrated by the more mature firms in this study, how a firm uses research in its practice can evolve significantly over time, and as illustrated by all participating firms, there is no one “right” way to do it.
A firm that struggles with building community within its staff or disconnection across multiple offices/disciplines might benefit from undertaking research activities to encourage employees to work together on the topics they are genuinely curious about instead of only connecting through project work.
Even in firms not founded by academics, the academia‐driven model can be pursued ad hoc by encouraging staff (especially those with research interests) to continue their education; hosting interns with research trajectories related to the firm’s work; and accommodating, incentivizing, and supporting part‐time staff who wish to bring their academic activities into the practice.
While firms hoping to fund research activities can benefit from observing their peers, they should also keep in mind at all times their own research questions of interest and be ready to fund them in creative or unique ways when opportunities arise.
Firms looking to staff research labs, programs, or initiatives should seek extremely curious people (who may lack formal training in research skills) and skilled connectors. A staff specialist can drive research in a firm very effectively with the proper support. In general, staff who can further research initiatives are not of any single background of study or disciplinary area—energized, curious staff have the potential to contribute to research activities as much as, or sometimes even more than, highly trained researchers.
An inability to communicate research findings to others is a significant barrier to knowledge‐sharing for firms that pursue research. Firms planning to pursue research activities should plan ahead to ensure that they have the capacity to share their findings. In lieu of debates about what “is” or “is not” research, more specific examples of what research looks like in practice are needed, especially from firms of different sizes and areas of work. Even one‐off, ad hoc approaches can serve as valuable examples and yield meaningful findings, whether or not they conform to traditional research standards.
Policy and advocacy could represent a significant area of opportunity for research in practice for firms that have an interest in shaping the larger built environment and working at a planning scale.
While firms may have specific, particularly high‐priority reasons for taking on research, they are also likely to see additional, sometimes unexpected positive outcomes in their project work, processes, and practices.
Although many potential avenues for study fit under the broad rubric of practice‐based research, some recommended areas for further study include:
How does what is being taught in university programs relate to what is in demand at professional landscape architecture and design firms?
What role can or should technology play in firms’ research efforts?
How directly do a firm’s motivations for pursuing research activities correspond to validated, not just perceived, outcomes?
Part 3: A Proposition
From the Authors: Our Collective Responsibility
In the face of climate, ecological, and social crisis, landscape architecture is uniquely positioned to respond. To meet the moment, we are questioning traditional practices and deploying new processes. We are rethinking standard details to integrate new materials and assemblies. And we are expanding the spaces in which we work. Our legitimacy as practitioners depends on our ability to show that we are having a positive impact. And being trusted to take the lead in the future depends on our ability to learn from our mistakes. This takes research.
In many disciplines there is a tight relationship between academia and practice. Doctors are constantly updating their prescriptions based on the findings of studies and journal articles. Materials scientists are often given challenges from companies or product developers to invent, test, and prove the effectiveness of materials before they are deployed in manufacturing. Despite what seems to be a significant overlap between design programs and educators who are also practitioners, the fluid link between academic research and practice is underdeveloped in landscape architecture. This is a real impediment to advancing a disciplinary research agenda. This takes stronger partnerships.
Landscape architecture is a profession in which time is money. The fact that we frequently value our contribution by the billable hour rather than outcomes positions us as service providers. Our unique ideas and expertise are undervalued. And because we neither sell products nor monetize specific knowledge, we operate according to a traditional business model in which research and development are hard to justify or support. We must build strategies that enable us to work outside the client‐consultant model, that allow for the pursuit of basic knowledge, and that support long‐term research efforts that span careers and coalesce knowledge. This takes funding sources.
If we view knowledge‐sharing as giving up our professional edge and refuse to share what we are learning every day as individuals and practices, we place limitations on the profession. Academia has a broad range of systems in place to support, advance, and disseminate research and the knowledge that comes from it, but this knowledge is often inaccessible to those outside academic institutions. Landscape architecture practice needs a new framework for collective knowledge‐building. This takes cooperation and infrastructure.
Valuing and funding research, developing meaningful partnerships, and better sharing our knowledge all necessitate a fundamental realignment of professional practice and a concerted effort to develop a functional approach to making practice‐based research accessible, replicable, and impactful.
Here is our call to action.
Celebrate the LA Way
We need to embrace the way we work as landscape architects instead of pretending to be scientists. We need to stand up for the value of design thinking instead of forcing everything into the world of metrics and proofs.
Landscape architects build knowledge through invention and iteration, application and evaluation. Our work is place‐based and reflects the infinite diversity of real‐world conditions, so we can’t just posit abstract theories and generalized arguments. We manipulate the environment, so our work is always subject to active feedback, stress testing, and refinement.
So, let’s celebrate what we as landscape architects bring to the world of research. This design‐ and practice‐based research may not need to follow strict scientific methods, but let’s embrace transparency and clear methodologies, evidence and analysis, so we can legitimately stand behind the value of our efforts and ensure the benefits of our impacts.
Question Everything
At this time of rapid change and multiple existential crises, we feel the need to question everything. This is not to throw out the history of our practice or the sensibility of our medium, but to recognize we must always come to our work with humility and skepticism, acknowledging that past ways may no longer work and that accepted “best practices” have sometimes yielded unintended consequences. Here is where constant attention to analysis, evaluation, and revision—the heart of practice—represents our unique power to transform ourselves and our influence. Let’s not sit back. Let’s lean in. Let’s deploy our tools to renew and revitalize our discipline.
Invite Partners
We can’t do this alone. We have a lot to learn about defensible research methodologies, and we need critical distance to answer the questions we ask. That’s why it’s frustrating that practice‐based research at times is denigrated as a second‐class science. This needs to change but only will when we demonstrate the rigor and influence of our findings. So, with our academic partners, let’s work together across practices, sharing resources and data. Let’s build on our discipline’s interdisciplinarity to partner with leading thinkers in other fields for truly transdisciplinary work across ecology, climate, manufacturing, anthropology, and the social sciences. We have projects and real‐world experience that can help bring richness to those studies that currently may only be done in a lab or in protected environments.
Build Capacity
We have to stop being so shy and so secretive. The more we talk about why and how we undertake research, the more normalized it will become in our profession. The more it becomes a natural part of our discourse, the more students will be interested in research methods, the more practices will implement their own programs, and the more information we’ll gather. The diversity of our profession is one of its great strengths. And different firms will each approach research in their own unique way. The more we learn from each other, the more tools we’ll develop, the more we’ll grow as a profession, and the more impact we’ll have.
Share Knowledge
Our research findings should not be considered intellectual property, trade secrets, or means to a competitive advantage. While even the coauthors of this article often find themselves competing against each other for projects, we came together in a spirit of mutual inquiry and vulnerability, and we are all better for it. We all learned something. None of us lost anything. Knowledge‐building and sharing is not a zero‐sum game. Indeed, growing our capacity can expand the ground on which landscape architecture can work. As we create new areas of practice, we open opportunities that may not even exist today.
Build Infrastructure
While various research‐focused landscape journals do exist (e.g., this publication, Landscape Research Record, and Journal of Landscape Architecture), they have not made inroads into the mainstream of our practice, and the topics they cover are often esoteric and hard to ground in the daily life of our projects. To reduce the gap between knowledge and necessity, we should not be relying on others. Practitioners must take action, so let’s create a “bulletin board” where questions can be shared, potentially leading to partnerships with researchers interested in trying to answer them. Let’s develop a database of original practice‐based research, where even research that has not been published in peer‐reviewed journals can be submitted. And let’s make the research of allied professions and the materials in their professional journals more accessible to everyday practitioners who may not have the academic affiliation required to get past paywalls.
Beyond publishing, who will organize symposia that focus on original research and put practitioners in true dialogue with each other? Who will host regular webinars where subjects can be openly debated for all to see? And, knowing that research, like design, is sometimes complicated and messy, where can we find space to share our process and our missteps?
Fund It
Unfortunately, at the individual firm level, research is hard to fit into the standard business model. While organizations like LAF have developed programs to fund individual projects, we need larger grants that go to practices or even consortia of practitioners to enable the scale and complexity of research necessary. These programs must support staff time, expert consultants, and expenses in ways that work with the billable hour/project‐based economics of firms.
Recognize Impactful Research
Since 2009 ASLA has had a separate category in its annual awards program to recognize research. Over the years, what constitutes research has been broadly and inconsistently applied. And for the most part, the same jury who reviews design submissions also reviews research submissions (with one LAF and one CELA representative added to the research jury). Clearer criteria for the research awards should be developed and shared widely. Awards should be given to projects that ask distinct questions, undertake transparent and rigorous methodologies, and deliver findings that add value to the discipline and to the communities in which we work.
Value Practice‐Based Research
Most states require continuing education to retain licensure. Each year we scramble to gather our CEUs, listening to webinars, attending conferences, and even sitting through product pitches from our trade partners. What if research—active knowledge building—provided CEUs? Writing articles, publishing findings, and documenting original research should be normalized as a part of our individual and collective continuing education process and should be formally valued as such. Let’s build a nationwide infrastructure to enable this.
Conclusion
With this article, we have used several approaches to “daylight” and elevate the role that research plays in professional landscape architecture offices. The impassioned, individual statements of purpose, the detailed information about 21 firms’ approaches, and the final call‐to‐action from the authors demonstrate that today’s firms are utilizing creative and diverse models for research ranging from significant resource commitments and dedicated staff to decentralized models and one‐off, opportunistic efforts. They are doing so with significant curiosity, passion, and heart—they are practitioners to their core. While debates on research standards and rigor have their place, this article demonstrates that the authors of this article, as well as the firms interviewed and surveyed, are answering their own questions in ways that make sense for their realities and their project work. In doing so, they are painting a picture of a more creative way of engaging in research, with less restrictive boundaries and definitions, that will yield its own domains of knowledge for the benefit of all.
Contributions: Part 1 is authored by each individual author as indicated, with the introduction authored by M. B. with group contributions. The survey was developed by A. D. with input from R. P. and M. B. Interviews and surveys were conducted and analyzed solely by M. B. Part 2 is authored by M. B. Part 3 is authored by E. K. based on group discussions. The overall editorial review is by E. K. and M. B. with contributions by other authors.
Acknowledgments
The authors extend a special thank you to Robert Ryan, Stephanie Roa, and Meghan Talarowski for their support and input. Megan Barnes would also like to express her gratitude for the openness, curiosity, and thought leadership offered up by the interview participants, including those who agreed to be recognized: José Almiñana (Andropogon), Sierra Bainbridge (MASS Design Group), Joe Chambers (MKSK), Melissa Erikson (MIG), Bill Estes (MIG), Deb Guenther (Mithun), Jennifer Guthrie (GGN), Lisa Hwang (LandDesign), Christopher Marcinkoski (PORT), Aminah McNulty (PORT), Jake Minden (Mithun), Signe Nielsen (MNLA), Amy Starling Rampy (TBG Partners), Gullivar Shepard (Michael Van Valkenburgh Associates), Laura Solano (Michael Van Valkenburgh Associates), and Elizabeth Vandermark (SmithGroup). Finally, a thank you to survey‐only participants Future Green Studio and Mikyoung Kim Design.
Appendix
Interview Questions (Ryan, 2023)
Please tell us a little about your professional background and the firm.
Does your firm engage in research as part of its professional services? If so, what type of research does your firm engage in?
Is this research part of standard consulting or is it conducted separately from funded landscape architectural projects?
What are some of the research methods that your firm uses?
Why (or why not) does your firm engage in research? What are some of the motivations for doing research and how does this relate to your firm’s competitiveness?
Who in the firm is engaged in research and what type of skills/training do they have? Are these skills developed on the job or from their previous training and/or professional education?
Is it important for university landscape architectural programs to teach research skills to their students? If so, what types of skills and methods do you think are most important to teach?
Are there other landscape architects/ firms that you recommend we interview about research?
Survey Questions
Q1. Firm name
Q2. Survey‐taker name and role within firm
Q3. What is the total number of employees at the firm?
Q4. What is the total number of landscape architects / landscape designers in the firm?
Q5. What is the firm’s ownership structure?
Q6. How many office locations does your firm have?
Q7. Where do research activities happen in your firm?
Q8. Does your firm have a dedicated research entity (e.g., a Lab or Group)?
Q9. How is research staffed? Select all that apply.
Q10. How is research funded? Select all that apply.
Q11. How are research questions initiated? Select all that apply.
Q12. Who initiates research questions? Select all that apply.
Q13. Does most of your research happen within a typical design project(s) or outside of project work?
Q14. What issues are you exploring in your research activities? Select all that apply.
Q15. What products result from the research? Select all that apply.
Q16. How is research shared within the firm? Select all that apply.
Q17. Are your research outcomes/findings shared outside the firm?
Q18. Are your research projects mostly focused on a specific design phase? Select all that apply.
Q19. Do your research projects relate most closely to a particular project type? Select all that apply.
Q20. Do your research projects relate most closely to a particular scale/scope of service? Select all that apply.
Q21. What drives your firm to pursue research activities? Select the top 3 only.
Q22. Which of the following firm‐level outcomes have resulted from conducting research activities? Select all that apply.
Q23. Which of the following project‐level outcomes have resulted from conducting research activities? Select all that apply.
Q24. How have research projects changed the way your firm works? Select all that apply.
Q25. Which research methods have you employed? Select all that apply.
Q26. What types of partnerships have you utilized for pursuing research activities? Select all that apply.
Q27. Which terms resonate with how you approach research within your firm? Select all that apply.
Q28. For the purposes of this survey, we define research as systematic inquiry that contributes to a body of knowledge. Does your firm engage in activities that fall outside of this definition but that you consider “research activities”? If so, please describe them.
Q29. Which forms of research literature does your firm typically utilize/reference? Select all that apply.
Q30. Do research findings from academia, either within landscape architecture/allied disciplines or in other disciplines like the sciences or humanities, meet your firm’s needs in the execution of design work?
Q31. In your wildest dreams and setting aside all limitations (cost, time, client interest, etc.): how would you envision your firm pursuing research activities and utilizing findings in practice?
This open‐access article is distributed under the terms of the CC‐BY‐NC‐ND license (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0) and is freely available online at https://lj.uwpress.org.
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