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Formal Architectural Education Began Earlier than Previously Known

Uncovering lessons from early classical architectural education in the 18th century at the Accademia di San Luca, Rome  "My goal is to make architectural history feel alive for students today. By uncovering these forgotten narratives, we’re not just studying and preserving the …

Uncovering lessons from early classical architectural education in the 18th century at the Accademia di San Luca, Rome 

"My goal is to make architectural history feel alive for students today. By uncovering these forgotten narratives, we’re not just studying and preserving the past, but also shaping the way architecture is taught and practiced in the future."

 

—Assistant Professor Selena Anders, Co-Director HUE ND and Associate Director DHARMA Lab at the University of Notre Dame School of Architecture

Professor Selena Anders describes Rome not only as a city of spectacular ruins but as a playbook for architecture professors today.

“It is a living archive of architectural education,” she says. Much more than uncovering the history of architectural education or examining ancient drawings, teaching that education requires an understanding of how architects of antiquity were trained to shape cities. Anders, who is based in Rome at the School of Architecture’s campus within Notre Dame Rome, focuses her research on the Accademia di San Luca, which she says played a fundamental role in transitioning architectural education from an apprenticeship model to a structured academic approach.

“There’s a common thread connecting everything I do that stems from understanding the architectural pedagogy that shaped some of history’s most influential designers,” she said. Through meticulous investigation of 18th century architectural drawings and competitions, Anders is irradiating the transformation of architectural education and its implications for contemporary education.

At the heart of her research is the Concorso Clementino, an architectural competition established in 1702 by Pope Clement XI and was hosted by the Accademia di San Luca until Italy’s unification in the 19th century. “It was the top prize given to architecture students at the time,” she explains, adding, “Winning meant not only prestige, but also career-defining opportunities.” The Concorso Clementino competition had multiple levels, just like today’s architectural schools with younger students reproducing architectural details, while advanced students designing entire buildings.

While a number of scholars have studied the grand competition drawings, Anders’ work delves into an often-overlooked aspect, the extemporaneous exam, or prova. “The students had to sit for a two-hour exam to prove authorship after they submitted their final designs,” she said. “These prova drawings provide an unprecedented look at how students internalized and executed architectural principles.”

It is these drawings that uncover precisely how students were taught and how they subsequently learned design. While undertaking a six-month fellowship at the Cooper Hewitt Smithsonian Design Museum, where Anders analyzed an extensive collection of more than 12,000 architectural drawings, she discovered twelve prova drawings with the then-curator at the museum Julia Siemon, scattered across various collections.

“This discovery reshapes our understanding of how students learned architectural design, and reconstructs how students at different levels of their training were evaluated,” she said. The youngest students had to draw detailed measured drawings of classical orders. Intermediate students tackled exercises like designing a palace door, while advanced students were tasked with composing more complex elements, such as a triumphal arch. “These were not just competition entries—they reveal the rigor and discipline ingrained in architectural education at the time in Rome and beyond.”

“This discovery reshapes our understanding of how students learned architectural design, and reconstructs how students at different levels of their training were evaluated ... these were not just competition entries — they reveal the rigor and discipline ingrained in architectural education at the time in Rome and beyond.”

Recalling the fellowship that unveiled these teachings to her, Anders shares how great of an experience it was. “It was incredible; from Monday through Friday, nine to five, I was working with these documents, tracing patterns and uncovering lost narratives allowing me to see patterns and connections that had previously gone unnoticed,” she said. This deepened her investigations into rare drawings, informal sketches and iterative drawings, where the real architectural thinking happens, as opposed to studying the final products. This revealed the transition from the hands-on apprenticeship model of architectural training to a more structured, classroom-based approach. “There was a clear shift,” she explains adding, “You can see it in the way students moved from copying their professors’ drawings, many of whom had trained under Bernini, to developing their own architectural language. This marked the beginning of what we now recognize as formal architectural education and shapes the way we still teach architecture today.”

Among the many historical figures Anders studies, Giuseppe Valadier stands out. “He’s an architect who should be far more well-known outside of Italy,” she asserts. Valadier was a prize-winning student at the Accademia di San Luca when he was just 13, and later played a crucial role in preserving some of Rome’s most important monuments. “But his work becomes even more fascinating when you place it in the context of a tumultuous period in Rome’s history, the Napoleonic occupation, who sought to transform Rome into an imperial capital for Napoleon’s anticipated arrival, as a modern-day Augustus. Valadier and other architects worked on various elements of this vision that were never fully realized,” Anders explains. However, traces of their ideas re-emerged after Italian unification, influencing later urban interventions.

Anders’ forthcoming book integrates Valadier’s student drawings with the broader narrative of Rome’s architectural transformation. “What’s fascinating is that we see his early education directly influencing his later work,” she notes. “His architectural sensibility—rooted in rigorous academic training—shaped his approach to urban planning and historic preservation.” Valadier’s influence extended beyond grand master plans as he was also instrumental in preserving historic Roman structures such as stabilizing the Colosseum and other key monuments. “His work marked the beginning of historic preservation as a formal architectural practice,” says Anders.

Beyond archival research, Anders is pioneering new methods of architectural study through digital humanities. She co-leads the Cities and Texts: Rome project, an interactive web-based map platform integrated with historical descriptions of Rome. “We translated an 18th century Roman guidebook, geolocated every site mentioned, and integrated it into an interactive digital tool allowing users to explore Rome as it was described centuries ago, bridging the gap between past and present,” Anders explains.

Anders’ work with Jennifer Parker, associate librarian at the School of Architecture, on an upcoming article expands on these digital approaches to architectural history.

“We’re exploring how historic texts, when combined with digital resources, can yield new insights into urban evolution, making architectural history accessible and engaging,” Anders says acknowledging the increasingly important role digital tools will play in the field in bridging the gap between historical research and contemporary architectural pedagogy. This can open up new avenues for research and ensure that architectural history remains dynamic and relevant.

Anders’ research ties directly into Notre Dame’s emphasis on the significance of place in architectural education.

“Understanding historic urban environments is fundamental,” she asserts. “Whether you’re a historian or a designer, being able to visualize the evolution of a city helps us make better decisions about the built environment today.” Anders’ dual background as historian and designer provides her with a unique perspective. “I don’t just see these drawings as historical artifacts, but also as active tools for learning architecture,” she says. “They capture the process of architectural thinking, how the students engaged with precedent, and transformed the knowledge into creative visions.” Anders further appreciates the importance of site visits in architectural training, arguing it deepens the connection to architectural history stating, “it’s one thing to study a drawing in a book; it’s another to stand in front of a building and truly grasp its spatial and contextual nuances.”

As Anders finalizes her forthcoming publications committed to expanding our understanding of architectural pedagogy from the 18th century in Rome, she continues to uncover new material that challenges conventional narratives. “Every time I think I’m done, I find something new that changes the way I see the period,” she admits with a laugh. “That’s the beauty of working with archives—you’re constantly peeling back layers of history.”

Through her work, Anders demonstrates that architectural education is more than a series of aesthetic shifts. It is a continuous dialogue between tradition and innovation. “By understanding the foundations of our discipline,” she concludes, “we gain invaluable insights into its future.”


Author: Charles Ghati ‘25 MSHP. Charles has an interdisciplinary background in architecture, construction project management and preservation. He is a registered architect in Kenya, where he practiced before joining the Notre Dame School of Architecture.

Originally published by Charles Ghati '25 MSHP at architecture.nd.edu on May 08, 2025.

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