Architecture grad makes waves in automotive art
Custom digital renderings of vehicles provide creative outlet during pandemic
What is it with architects and their Volvos and Saabs? My largely unsubstantiated hypothesis is that a bulletproof Red Block or a troublesome 900 Turbo is an informal rite of passage; even if they don't have one yet, I'm sure all of them eye every one that rolls past.
I'm mainly basing this on wishful thinking and projection, of course, but I have found at least one case to back my belief. Douglas Peterson-Hui is a recent architecture graduate and a brilliant embodiment of my preconceptions of what it must mean to be an architect. He maintains a pair of blocky Volvos, along with a minimalist sensibility and a rather successful Instagram page: @thearchitectsgarage.
After completing his master's degree in architecture in Toronto, Peterson-Hui returned to his native Vancouver to start his career. COVID -19 had different plans for the job market in early 2020, however, and he began scratching the creative itch with a foray into digital art. It was a journey that would carry him far beyond what he could have expected.
Like the Volvos he drives, Peterson-Hui's enthusiasm for design focuses on simplicity, practicality, and accessibility. He uses bold shadows, sharply defined lines, and carefully balanced palettes to distil cars and their settings into their most striking and recognizable forms. Selective use of detail minimizes clutter and directs attention to where it matters most, and deciding what makes the cut is a very deliberate balance.
Today, The Architect's Garage is notable as much for its visual identity as it is for its diversity. Peterson-Hui's style has broad appeal, and since opening himself up to commissions he has rendered everything from multimillion-dollar Porsches to old Pontiacs. It's an art project that anyone who loves a car — any car, really — can be a part of.
“The Architect's Garage was originally just meant to be a place to share my art with friends and family,” he says. “But I saw where the job market was headed and decided to get serious about it.”
Peterson-Hui still has a few other professional projects on the go, but his artwork has become a central occupation.
One can chart the story of the project's growth just by scrolling through the feed. Starting with renderings of his personal automotive and architectural interests, the art of The Architect's Garage progresses into his friends' cars and gradually out to the enthusiasts who follow similar niches. With audience growth comes a further broadening of scope, and subjects of different styles and vintages start creeping in.
Usually, an artist working for others has to make sacrifices. Yet even with this subject sprawl, The Architect's Garage is unique in that its “democratized” content still holds true to the artist's values. Asked how he feels about illustrating old hoopties and late-model sedans, Peterson-Hui contentedly explains that he's actually more drawn to average econoboxes than to the high-flying supercars that other artists emphasize. Just as he believes that architects need to pay more attention to designs that could better serve the masses, he thinks there is more to appreciate in the vehicles that get regular people around and through their lives.
Along with all of this is the inevitable progression and refinement of craft that one would expect of a working artist. Peterson-Hui is understandably proud of this evolution, calling attention to richer textures and increasingly deliberate use of that already judicious detail work. Having said that, the process remains the same, and it's an interesting one at that.
Just as Peterson-Hui's tastes and sensibilities are influenced by architecture, so too are his methods. Detailing one of the most unusual workflows I've come across, he chuckles as he explains that any pieces that don't begin on paper actually start in a 3-D architectural CAD program called Rhino. With two-dimensional line work established in this familiar (if oddly technical) 3-D territory, he moves into Adobe Illustrator for colouring before shading and texturing in Photoshop. It's definitely different, but the results speak for themselves.
In the three-dimensional world, this architect's garage includes a 1982 Volvo 245 GL wagon (his first) and a rare, recently adopted 1981 242 GLT coupe. Kevin and Freja, as they are called, will eventually be joined by a classic P1800. We've already addressed how those indestructible, rolling refrigerators are an obligatory part of the architect's wardrobe, but what else drew him in? For Peterson-Hui, the fit just makes sense.
“My dad had Volvo 240s and an 850 wagon, so I have a lot of memories with them.”
It's a familiar tune to anyone acquainted with the cult of brick: 240s are cheap, famously durable, and functional.
“I hauled all the building materials for the first tiny house I built in the back of my wagon.”
More than this, however, are the parallels to his preferred architectural style. As he tells it, these old Volvos roll around with an integrity akin to that of modernist buildings' emphasis on open space, uncluttered design, and honest, raw material surfaces. Though perhaps not quite as timeless as modernist icons such as Frank Lloyd Wright's Fallingwater, the Volvo 240 has aged remarkably well as a comfortable, safe, reliable, practical, and honest vehicle.
What lies ahead? A lot of people clearly enjoy seeing their cars in Peterson-Hui's style, and it is fortunate that he has been able to make such a stimulating living despite the difficulties of the COVID-19 pandemic. But while he expects to start an architecture internship once Canada emerges from its pandemic stasis, there's no hurry. The Architect's Garage has offered him an exciting taste of a digital-nomadic life. Following from this, another tiny house or mobile studio project seems likely, as does the continuation of The Architect's Garage.
Peterson-Hui has his sights set on architectural projects that will improve the quality of life of people in his increasingly stratified region. From his perspective, North American architecture is lagging behind the rest of the world, so contributions to such experimentation seem likely. If The Architect's Garage is anything to go by, the results are sure to be spectacular.