Searching for Personal Territory in a Human-Computer Interaction Design Studio

Abstract

The literature regarding studio-based education suggests that personal space is an integral component of a studio-based pedagogy (Brandt et al., 2010; Demirbaş and Demirkan, 2000). However, the extant studio designed for a Human-Computer Interaction design (HCI/d) programme at the Masters level examined in this study does not offer any apparent provision for such space. This study aimed to determine if and how students in a studio-based HCI/d programme create and maintain personal space in a publicly accessible studio that does not explicitly provide space dedicated to individuals. The results of this study indicated a tendency toward group territoriality, with individual territoriality as a non-normative behaviour. These groups were generally ad hoc in construction, which presents a number of possible curriculum features by which students loosely form groups. The student’s personal computer and other personal items often indicated individual boundaries as well. The faculty design focused on integration of faculty and student spaces, public display of student work and studio-based classes. At this early stage, there are gaps between implementation and design. Opportunities for further research are explored.

Keywords:

• Studio
• Territoriality
• Personal Space

Introduction

Beyond the product of its practice, the built space, the field of architecture demonstrates benefits transferable to other fields. Since Schön’s (1985) analysis of architecture studios as a valuable pedagogical approach that encourages participants’ ability to deal with ill-defined problems of designing the built space, researchers interested in design pedagogy worked to understand more deeply and harness its strengths for other fields. This has led to studios in computer programming (Barak et al., 2007), information technology (Carbone and Sheard, 2002), instructional design (Clinton and Rieber, 2010) and human-computer interaction design (Blevis et al., 2007; Brandt et al., 2008; Reimer and Douglas, 2003). From studies of these implementations a theoretical framework, including surface features, pedagogy, epistemology and community of practice, emerges to make sense of the elements involved and how they interact (Cennamo et al., 2010; Shaffer, 2007).

An important surface feature in the architecture studio is dedicated personal work area (Demirbaşs and Demirkan, 2000), as practice in the field involves sketching using a variety of scales. Furthermore, the studio itself is accessible by students beyond posted class times and they are encouraged to work there after hours. Student-dedicated work space is traditionally part of the description of the studio learning environment (Brandt et al., 2008, 2010). Due to ever-increasing pressure to reduce costs, educators continue experimenting with the model (Cai and Khan, 2010; Tucker and Reynolds, 2006): with the high cost of real estate it is worthwhile to optimise learning environments by providing flexible shared spaces.

In this study, we observed a Human-Computer Interaction design (HCI/d) programme without dedicated space in an effort to establish whether territorial behaviours exhibit themselves (Brown and Robinson, 2007). This report begins with a brief literature review and an explanation of our methods. Our results and discussion respond to our research questions as they explore how the space was designed, how it was used, and how it is perceived to meet the needs of its inhabitants, all with respect to territoriality. We end with conclusions based on the results and discussion, and indicate potential gaps and opportunities for further study.

Review of Literature

Where did the design studio originate?

Disciplines in which creativity is valued, such as visual arts, music and architecture, have long taken advantage of studio environments (Cennamo and Vernon, 2008). Furthermore, instruction designed to support these disciplines often takes advantage of studios, such as École Des Beaux Arts in Pariouttakrs, France and the Bauhaus in various locations in Germany.

Schön (1985) claimed the architecture studio offered benefits in the form of authentic tasks in a realistic context. The ill-defined tasks require that a successful solution develop as a dialogue between designer and design context. The studio calls for practice and, through it, the acquisition of tacit knowledge of technical concerns and the affordances of the tools used to achieve them. In addition to practical application of the tools, Schön argues the benefit of instructor-, peer- and practitioner-led guidance in the form of ‘desk crits’ and ‘juries’.

The architecture design studio is a signature pedagogy — a method developed for a profession to convey a way of thinking that is particular to the field (Shulman, 2005a). In the studio signature pedagogy, the instructor challenges and critiques the work of students, working either independently or collaboratively, encouraging them to find their own solutions to design problems (Shulman, 2005b).

Adaptations of studio pedagogy in multiple fields

Recognising potential benefits offered by studio-based instruction, attempts have been made to adapt this method to other disciplines. The problem centred, hands-on approach has been variously adapted to physics (Cummings et al., 1999; Dori and Belcher, 2005), math, computer programming, information technology, instructional systems technology, and HCI/d with differing results.

Cossentino and Shaffer (1999) studied Escher’s World, a studio programme combining math and graphic design. Feedback on student responses to design problems took the form of performance assessments — similar to critiques. This study informed an analysis of a Massachusetts Institute of Technology architecture studio and development of a framework for understanding a studio-based pedagogy (Shaffer, 2007). Extending Schön (1985), Shaffer argued that surface features interact with epistemology and pedagogy in an interlocking cycle of expression and feedback.

Figure 1 Cycles of expression and feedback (from Shaffer, 2007)

Cennamo et al. (2010) extended Shaffer’s framework to understand the inner workings of the design studio. In this model, the studio itself serves as a bridge enabling students to pass from academia into professional practice. They add the concept of community of practice as an additional layer of interaction specific to the discipline being taught. For example, studio instructors may arrange the workspaces (surface features) to serve their pedagogical interests resulting in a shared interaction space, while a student may move furniture to carve out territory within the existing space.

Design practice

Design practice, with its continuing refinement of candidate solutions to a problem, involves communication, both visually and verbally between stakeholders (Nelson and Stolterman, 2003). This implies a need for space both for the creation of products and for displaying them in an effort to elicit feedback for further growth.

Designers are known to sketch their ideas in one form or another in the process of development (Boling, 2010a; Buxton, 2007; Lawson and Dorst, 2009). Sketching, using traditional materials (e.g. paper and pencil) requires space, and dedicated space minimises setup and teardown. Portable digital technologies such as laptops and tablets support sketching tasks.

Although the romantic notion of a ‘eureka’ moment of creative insight persists, research indicates that design concepts evolve over time and are influenced by exposure to ideas from the surrounding environment (Cross, 2011; Lawson and Dorst, 2009). Some of this input may come from precedent (Boling, 2010b), but it also comes from communication with others. Awareness of reflection-in-action enables designers to be more competent in the messiness of design problems (Schön, 1987) and this may be facilitated by critiques by and impromptu discussions with others. Therefore, an important support for designers and aspiring designers is the establishment of a collaborative culture — an integral feature of a studio environment (Cennamo and Vernon, 2008).

Human territoriality

Territoriality is described as a feeling of ownership over physical or social entities in a workplace (Brown and Robinson, 2007). It is expressed and observable as marking, through reactionary or defensive behaviours. In contrast with personal space, which is dynamic and appears to have direct biological origins, territoriality seems to be a more durable and culturally grounded extension. As such, it seems that it offers benefits in building community.

Though linked to benefits from identity construction and a sense of belonging in a social group, it can hinder effective knowledge sharing, as it is durable over time and we protect entities we believe we own. Territorial behaviour falls into the categories of control-oriented marking (e.g. a name plate); identity-oriented marking (e.g. photos); anticipatory defences (e.g. locked doors);and reactionary defences (e.g. removing a trespasser) (Brown, 2009).

Demirbaş and Demirkan (2000) looked at issues of privacy, personal space, territoriality and crowding in an architecture studio in Turkey. An observation of the studio itself indicated that students demarcate their space by placement of personal belongings or by using surface features such as cabinets or partitions as dividers. Although a majority indicated they share their design ideas with others, locating their table near friends, most of those also indicated a preference for greater isolation and secrecy in the studio.

Research into computer supported collaborative work applies an understanding of territoriality in efforts to support workplaces. Analysis of a workspace (Hunt and Poltrock, 1999) specifically designed for collaboration through elimination of private, enclosed spaces indicates a dramatic improvement in the unit’s capacity. This would seem to indicate that reducing opportunity for isolation might benefit group work, but it should be noted, ‘a process change to multi-disciplinary work cells also occurred during [the time of the study]’ (Hunt and Poltrock, p.10). Another report indicates that such efforts do not eliminate territoriality, but rather exacerbate the situation — few details were provided (Brown, 2009).

Purpose of Study

The Human-Computer Interaction design programme, which constitutes the subject of this study, did not explicitly provide or allocate space to individual users of the environment, but the literature suggests that this is an integral component of a studio-based pedagogy (Brandt et al., 2010; Demirbaş and Demirkan, 2000). This study investigated how students in a studio-based HCI/d programme made use of the provided studio with respect to territoriality.

Research Questions

1. What did the faculty involved in designing the studio space report as their pedagogical and epistemological goals for the studio space?

2. Did the study participants’ behaviour fall into patterns that suggest an attempt to create personal or private territory?

3. Did the participants feel the studio adequately addresses their need for personal or private space? Or did they find themselves satisfying their territoriality needs by going elsewhere?

Method

Researcher’s connection to the study

The researchers conducting this study were familiar with the context and many of its participants because both researchers had taken classes in the programme while completing the requirements for a doctoral minor in Human-Computer Interaction design. Additionally, there are strong ties between the major department of the researchers and HCI/d as a result of faculty relationships and collaborations and fellow students who are likewise minoring in the programme.

Setting

The study was conducted at a large Midwestern university in the United States within its School of Informatics. Specifically, this study concerns itself with those students in the HCI/d Masters programme. This programme was established in the year 2000, and was of interest because the faculty has been actively working to enhance it with a physical studio space since 2007 (Blevis et al., 2007). The intensive programme saw Masters students study theory and grapple with authentic and contrived design problems over a series of design-oriented courses. Students in their first year were exposed to a wide range of craft knowledge and theory-based courses, product testing, prototype creation, and ethnographic methods. Second year students spent both semesters completing a Capstone project that drew upon coursework from first year, moving a problem through framing, design iteration and prototype. The Capstone project is a real-world user experience design undertaken as a final project to demonstrate their mastery of and ability to apply the course content. As this study concluded at the end of the spring semester, it was expected that a majority of second year students would spend much time working on their Capstone projects and other projects. There was no requirement that they use the provided space, but it was likely that they would do so during this period if they were inclined to use it at all.

Beginning in October 2010, the studio underwent significant changes as it was moved from a secluded basement room to an upper floor of a newly constructed space designed for the purpose. In January 2011, the move concluded with the reallocation of the original space. The new space was publicly accessible during the period of the study, because planned electronic door locks had not yet been installed. The faculty acknowledged that the process of establishing an appropriate culture is in progress and the goal of incorporating theory makes the programme distinct; one cannot expect this data to reflect a traditional studio culture or programme. Of the five full-time faculty members, one was on sabbatical the entire time and another two were present only infrequently as their grant-funded research required travel; they taught no classes and their availability was limited. It was a culture in transition.

The approximately 3,725 square foot space offers an open layout (see Appendix A) for faculty, PhD and Masters student use. The department was involved in the planning of the space, consulting in the details of the layout and furnishings. Three faculty offices occupied secured, locked spaces on the periphery, featuring a glass wall facing the design space. Three more nautilus-style offices comprised an island against an internal wall in the middle of the space. The nautilus offices have no doors at all. The two doors to the floor were unsecured.

The primary working area, accessible to all Masters students, comprised approximately 880 square feet within the space, with an additional 1,100 square feet of accessible auxiliary space. Lighting was provided by overhead fluorescent lamps and augmented in daytime by natural light from windows in the north and south walls. The south wall of the studio was glass, but faculty offices blocked most natural light from reaching the largest student work area.

The primary space was distinct from faculty offices and provided numerous work tables, digital displays, and whiteboards, while auxiliary spaces faced faculty offices or major entrances to the floor, and featured open study carrels, sofas, and small circular tables and chairs. A shared, semi-private meeting room with writable surfaces and a glass wall, comprised 128 square feet adjacent to the primary studio area. A small kitchenette was available. Potential workspaces included semi-circular high tables with bar stools and an accessible high-resolution video display, large beanbags, standard tables and chairs, study carrels, and comfortable sofas. Five whiteboards were affixed to walls and numerous portable whiteboards and stands were present.

Participants

Faculty interviewees

The participants in this study included two faculty members responsible for the design of the space and the curriculum employed therein. The faculty members selected were involved in the initial design of the HCI/d studio programme and of the space itself. Faculty members who had published on the studio programme design process or on research related to collaborative work were approached first. Although all who were approached expressed interest, only two were able to make themselves available for interviews.

Observation participants

Student participants included all those who entered the space during at least one observation session. The space was open to the public at the time of the observations, but was neither obvious nor easy to reach. It was expected that those using the space would primarily be students in the HCI/d programme and students taking HCI/d courses.

Student interviewees

At the conclusion of the observation period the researchers reviewed the observation data for indicators of territoriality amongst participants. Examples of candidate behaviours included (but were not limited to): decorating or demarcating an area, informing others verbally of spatial ownership, gestures to warn others away, leaving objects on departure.

Once candidate behaviours were identified, the researchers tallied the participants in close proximity of the expressed behaviour. All participants were ranked according to the number of distinct instances of candidate behaviours they were likely to have been involved in (even if peripherally). Ultimately, six were asked to participate in an interview and three accepted.

Type of study

In this exploratory, naturalistic case study the researchers collected and analysed observation and interview data using primarily qualitative methods. A case study ‘investigates a contemporary phenomenon within its real-life context’ in which ‘[t]he boundaries between phenomenon and context are not clearly evident’ (Yin, 1994, p.13). Furthermore, it is naturalistic because the researchers observed behaviours in person in their natural environment (Lincoln and Guba, 1985) and then analysed these behaviours for signs of territoriality — a subjective judgment based upon matching perceived behaviours with the descriptions from the literature on the subject. When such behaviours were identified, the researchers followed up with interviews to gain further understanding of the motivation behind the behaviour to confirm or reject the notion that they were territorially motivated. Additionally, the researchers interviewed members of the faculty to understand their goals and how they implemented the HCI/d studio to provide a richer context for the results of the observations.

Data collection strategies

Faculty interviews

Two individual, semi-structured, one-hour interviews were conducted with faculty members to gain an understanding of the design goals and implementation realities of the HCI/d studio programme (see Appendix B). These interviews were performed after reading the faculties’ published writings on the topic. Each interview was recorded using a LiveScribe Echo smart pen to synchronise the audio with the notes. As it is known that designers sketch (Cross, 2011; Lawson and Dorst, 2009; Nelson and Stolterman, 2003), the LiveScribe notebook was made available for any sketching, to facilitate communication. No such sketching occurred. Upon completion, these interviews were transcribed for analysis.

Observation period

In parallel with the faculty interviews, the design studio was observed in four three-hour sessions per week over a period of three consecutive weeks towards the end of the spring semester, followed by another two three-hour sessions three weeks later during the final week of classes. This yielded 42 hours of observation data. The researchers recorded observations on the position of visible people and movable objects at twenty-minute intervals and also logged potentially territorial behaviours. The average number of participants noted per sheet was 5.7 with a maximum of 16 and a minimum of 0.

Figure 2a Two consecutive observation instrument pages (3.40pm on the same day)

Figure 2b Observations at 4.00pm on the same day

Student interviews

After the observation period concluded, the researchers followed up with interviews of three students who were exposed to candidate territorial behaviours. Four interviews were sought and six candidates were identified, but only three took part in interviews. Two interviewees were male (S4, S25) and one was female (S30). Both males had prior work experience, but it was unclear if S30 did. S4 and S30 were in their second year, while S25 was in his first. These semi-structured interviews explored the motivations behind the behaviours in question and how well their needs were met within the physical space (see Appendix B).

Table 1 Number and classification of interviewees

Interviewee Classification	Number
Faculty	2
First-year Masters Students	1
Second-year Masters Students	2

Throughout the study, the researchers maintained an informal reflective log of observations, impressions and progress in the study, to facilitate analysis and monitor their subjective lenses (Glesne, 2006).

Analysis

The primary investigator reviewed all interview data at least twice visually and auditorily to gain familiarity. The software program TAMS Analyzer (multiuser version 4.13b13h,) was used for transcription and coding. Complete thoughts, which took many forms in the captured verbal communication, were sought (Fraenkel and Wallen, 2009). All data was read and coded as follows:

Table 2 Data codes* pertaining to research questions and used in analysis

Design	Epistemology
	Pedagogy
Behaviour	Identity Marking
	Control Marking
	Anticipatory Defensive
	Reactionary Defensive
Features	Provided
	Missing
	Satisfied elsewhere

* Derived from Cennamo et al. (2010) and Brown (2009)

Observation data

The observation data were analysed for instances of territorial behaviours upon completion of the observation period to facilitate selection of student interview candidates. Upon completion of this analysis, instances were reviewed and six target interviewees were identified (see Data Collection Strategies).

Faculty interviews

The next read of the faculty interview data coded the categories pedagogy and epistemology. The faculty interview information was primarily intended to provide data to answer Research Question 1. The codes were derived from the question to be answered (Fraenkel and Wallen, 2009, p.476).

We began analysis with a framework of codes including epistemology and pedagogy in reference to the design of the space but these two overlapped heavily, and lost much of their categorical significance. Therefore, the taxonomy used in the reporting of results for Research Question 1 used the terms design and implementation in lieu of the originals. Design refers to the initial goals for the designed space, along with the process through which the space was envisioned and built. Implementation refers to the physical reality and usage of the space, including application of pedagogy and constraints that constitute the gap between design and implementation.

Student interview data

Student interview data was analysed, explicitly looking for behaviour descriptions and classifications as well as references to pedagogical methods employed, epistemology, and felt needs. This analysis was primarily applied towards answering Research Questions 2 and 3, but contributed to Question 1 as well.

Validity and reliability

Both validity and reliability are significant concerns in research — particularly when using methods in which the researcher is the instrument. We subscribe to the argument that, under such a circumstance, such terms largely lose their meaning. In their place, one can instead provide transparency of activities (both physical and mental) in an effort to enable the reader to make their own determinations from the most well-informed viewpoint (Wolcott, 1990). As a result, the researchers maintained a reflective journal and performed one round of member checking based upon the first draft (Glesne, 2006). Additionally, the researchers collected data during independent observation sessions in the space.

The data from these sessions were compared and found to be similar in the type of content noticed and recorded. Although one researcher coded all data and transcripts, a sample was constructed to calculate Cohen’s Kappa as an estimate of our shared understanding (Fleiss, et al., 1969) for inter-rater reliability. The 63 item test resulted in a kappa of .569 which Landis and Koch (1977) characterise as moderate agreement. Upon review of the discrepancies, it was determined that this was due primarily to lack of context in the test samples and the inability to properly account for multiple coded utterances. However, this was not deemed problematic for this study.

Results and Discussion

Throughout the results section, observed users of the design space, along with faculty and student interviewees, are referred to by a unique code to appropriately anonymise the data, while also providing the opportunity to identify parallel accounts in which the same subject is referenced. Faculty are identified by an ‘F’ followed by the order in which they were interviewed, while students are represented as ‘S’ plus the order of their appearance within the space.

Design v. implementation

As indicated in the analysis section, answering our first research question regarding faculty epistemological and pedagogical goals for the space led to a re-framing of these data as a contrast between design intent and implementation. Goals for the space during planning stages included: tight integration between faculty and student spaces, creation of public spaces where student work is visible and accessible, and allowing for the integration of a studio-based teaching model component.

Design intent

The HCI/d faculty were involved in the design of the new studio space, bringing a variety of experiences and expectations of the role of the studio. Two of the faculty came from traditional design school environments that included the use of studio space as the primary pedagogical model. F1 reported “both F3 and I have a history of being in more traditional design schools — at least to some degree,” and two additional faculty members were resident researchers for a semester in a university with a strong studio focus.

From the perspective of utility, the studio space is primarily an area for design practice, and is expected to be a “very messy place” where “ongoing work is — is present in the space all the time” (F1). In addition to the continual presence of student and faculty work, participants in the space can “see what the other students are doing…and how they do it” (F1). While these traditional studio norms were clearly important to the faculty, the HCI/d programme provides more breadth than a normative studio experience, focusing not only on craft, but also on “intellectual, theoretical thinking…research…[and argumentation]” (F1).

A consideration overarching the practical goals of the studio space is the role of a design culture. The studio space does not provide intuition on proper use, “it’s not as simple as, if you have the space then people will use it in a way they are supposed to” (F1). A combination of the features of the space and the underlying pedagogy of the programme, brought together through the studio’s design culture, will “educate [students], push them, force [students] to use [the space] in the way that it should be used” (F1). This acculturation to the culture of the studio by students becomes organic over time, with “new students …doing what the others are doing…until it becomes a natural part … of the culture” (F1).

Implementation

The design of the space naturally proceeds from the epistemological considerations of the faculty, but the specific pedagogy created was subject to a series of design considerations and constraints. Although stated goals of the space included themes of a “very messy place” (F1) and the presence of on-going work, neither of these characteristics is true of the current space. The relative cleanliness of the space may be due to perceptions about the space from students, as S4 indicated, “it has to be presentable in case someone comes — like faculty or senior staff comes to have — hold a meeting in here. They don’t want to have to clean our space — since nobody cleans it.” Additionally, the lack of storage or individually dedicated space limits potential for display or presence of on-going work and there appeared to be no other mechanism for displaying student work either in-progress or completed.

Based on a series of floor diagrams and faculty interviews, walls separating the faculty space to the south from the main studio space in the north, along with the west presentation table wall, and the full wall between the two faculty offices on the east end of the building were all late architectural changes. Although these walls may seem inconsequential, the west PhD space is created by such a wall and, despite our not observing more than the southern carrels in use, Masters students requiring space for research clearly felt it was off limits. Furthermore, the faculty space to the south effectively prevents natural light from the south windows from benefitting the designers in the north.

Finally, although the space was not designed for direct studio instruction, like the spaces experienced by much of the faculty during their own education, use for studio-style classroom instruction has been considered. However, while the traditional studio model includes the display of work from students and faculty alike, in this setting, faculty members are judged by their research output, not presence of studio work in the space. The space “has not really [been] incorporated...intentionally in the courses” (F1), but there are unofficial plans to teach studio-based courses there in the future. The purpose of a course is a consideration in determining whether the studio would be helpful, with F2 noting “[the faculty] are very committed to a studio-based teaching…[but] I guess it would have to depend on the nature of the class.” The space has been used for an invited speech, and found to be successful “because the space is not very big … so it’s more intimate and people are more engaged that way” (F2).

The observed context

Analysis of observation data with the support of our interviews furnished the answer for our second research question, and our participants were found to exhibit a variety of territorial behaviours over time. Interestingly, this was manifest primarily in a group rather than individual basis.

The collaboratively designed studio was constructed on the third floor of the School of Informatics, which is neither readily visible nor accessible to the general public. The open studio space replaces a smaller basement area that was the exclusive province of students in the Masters programme until October 2010. The HCI/d Masters programme currently includes approximately 70 students, evenly distributed over first- and second-year status. The programme is completed in two years by the majority of students, with 80–85% of students finishing the cohort-based programme on a full-time basis. The Masters and PhD students both occupy the studio space. The PhD programme includes approximately 15 active students, with an expected duration of five years. While Masters students have access to the resources within the space, they do not have individually assigned physical space. In contrast, the PhD students are assigned a study carrel for the duration of their programme. F1 expressed disappointment in the situation: “the best space would be to have a much bigger space where all our students would have their individual workstation.”

Students in the Masters programme were observed in the final weeks of spring semester, when second-year students were concluding Capstone projects, and first-year students were completing a wide range of smaller projects in various studio courses. The studio space was available for student use 24 hours a day for a variety of purposes, including individual project work, socialising, group meetings, and prototype testing. It has also been reserved and used for occasional departmental events (reported by F2 and S4).

During the 42 hours of studio observations, 89 unique subjects were observed, including four faculty members, seven PhD students, 36 known Masters students, one visiting applicant to the programme and 41 subjects that were unknown to the researchers. The researchers recognised some but not all students in the space. Some of these unknown subjects may be duplicates as we relied upon written physical descriptions to identify those not personally familiar to us. These subjects spent a combined total of approximately 204 hours in the space, drawing from observation sheets compiled every 20 minutes throughout the observation period. The duration students spent in the space ranged from 20 minutes to 14 hours, with a median of 100 minutes per subject spent in the space over 42 hours of observation.

Most activity was concentrated between the western presentation table (PT1) and the fishbowl (the east conference room with a glass wall). Although traditional tables in the centre of this space were well used, the presentation tables on the east and west ends saw the majority of the open space activity, while the fishbowl served a need for group or individual privacy on a temporary basis. The south-facing portion of the space was infrequently used, despite the availability of large floor-to-ceiling windows allowing a great deal of natural light. Students waited here to speak with professors and, in one case, a professor used this space to discuss a project with a group. However, interviews corroborated what this researcher presumed to be the case: “[the furniture is] really ugly and uncomfortable” (S25).

Personal and private space

The analysis of studio observations and faculty and student interviews revealed some ways students attempted to create personal or private space, in relation to research Question 2.

While the space was under observation, interactions between the participants would most accurately be characterised as friendly or cordial; no overt conflicts were detected. Students worked both individually and in groups. It was not uncommon for entrants to greet others before setting to work.

On an individual level, we did not see significant territorial behaviours emerge. Only one participant expressed an affinity towards a particular place within the studio. Of roughly nine and a half hours S4 spent in the space, about seven and a half found him working at the same table (PT1). This preference was due in part to the needs of his Capstone or culminating project, which involved observing resource usage patterns. When asked about it, he responded that it was a “personal choice … so I could observe the space.” No identity or control marking was apparent beyond his frequent presence and he denied any possessiveness, “if someone’s there, I move to a different spot on the table. I don’t feel hurt” (S4). Nevertheless, S33 perceived this space to be S4’s territory as S4 later told us: “people I’m good friends with, like [S33], are like haha! I’m in your space.” No other participant was as consistent in selecting a particular area.

The two second-year interviewees both felt an unmet need for storage space — an inability to establish anticipatory defences. Both of these students were frustrated at having to bring materials to and from the space each day and S30 indicated that this contributed to her reluctance to use the space: “the hassle to drag all of that stuff on the campus that it doesn’t seem worth it…” Interestingly, S25, who had no opportunity to work in the previous space (which included a small number of lockers which could be claimed by students on a first-come, first-served basis), expressed no such need for storage space.

Knowing the space

There were inconsistent views of what belonged to the Masters students and what did not. It was the researchers’ impression that the entirety of the new design studio that was not specifically assigned to either faculty or a PhD student was to accommodate the Masters students and PhD students worked there as well. Nothing the faculty said contradicted this impression, but S4 was convinced otherwise: “the Master’s space is really considered to be from — from this room, the fishbowl conference room — to the other wall”, followed later by: “actually the display tables aren’t really considered ours.”

In fact, some of these decisions were still changing: “they think it’s for PhD students and that’s what we said in the beginning …” This emerged during our interview with S4.

Technology

Of the students seen in the space, most brought a computing device. Five of the people who entered the space did not visibly carry computing devices. They either sat alone, reading or napping in the lounge area. None of them were known to be Masters students. All other students were observed with personal belongings that included computing devices. These computing devices often followed their owners if they should move, even temporarily, but occasionally were left until the owner’s return. The researchers did not notice any password protection or other anticipatory defences being used, but for S25, his laptop seemed to serve as an extension of his territory: “my privacy was really kind of invaded today…I go to take a phone call in the design space and I come back and my screen has been adjusted for, like the blind…” (S25). Later he elaborated that his computer is organised “so I can work immediately.” Clearly, for S25, the laptop represented a work environment that carried a portion of his identity as a student and as a designer. S25 elaborated that he had four computers at home and three were shared with his partner, but this machine alone was off limits. Through this instance, personal computing devices may be considered a powerful implementation of personal territory, while a decidedly transitory presence in the space.

Group ownership

Upon entering the space for the first observation session, it felt and even smelled like a new construction. The carpet had no visible stains and the paint on the walls was not noticeably marked. The tables were clean except for a few papers, cups and a bowl. By comparison, the PhD students identity marked their dedicated spaces with books and other work materials, even spreading out into the surrounding areas with posters and Christmas lights.

We noticed six posters hung on the walls at various times, a stuffed monkey hung from the rafters and a pirate flag that made a brief appearance. The students we spoke with had mixed feelings about these, but they were most strongly expressed in relation to the pirate flag. The two male interviewees talked about the flag and both felt that it clearly carried a message and an attitude — and neither felt it represented them as individuals. S4 seemed to appreciate the effort even if he didn’t agree: “That’s somebody’s personal idea of what [design] is. It’s not what I would think of.” By contrast, S25’s reaction was a bit stronger: “I hate it. Gimme a break, I hate it … I also don’t want a pirate flag hanging… because it has no meaning for me.” On the other hand, S4 missed some identity markers, particularly their toy box.

Communicating group identity

The whiteboards also carried various patterns, sketches, and messages, but during the observations of the space, students were often careful to clean off their work when they were done. S8 often wrote on a board and then immediately erased it, went to work on his nearby laptop, and then repeated the process. Others left their work on a board while present then cleared it before they left. Although some work did remain on the boards, these were community messages (e.g. jokes). S25 commented on this: “people were drawing stuff on that and I thought it was kinda cool because it created this, like, location, this place where people could be creative …”

As with identity marking behaviours, control marking behaviours were observed at the individual and group level: S10 claimed the fishbowl by writing reservations on its glass wall; S30 piled belongings on a worktable she occupied. In some cases, this may simply have been convenience, but S30 later reflected upon her intent to discourage others from joining. She also spoke of others who moved desks, apparently to create their own space: “they take one of the tables, shove it against the wall, make it like it’s a desk almost …I did it once intentionally because …you kind of have to put those barriers up…” (S30).

Some people appeared to seek control over their territory by deliberately choosing who shared it rather than attempting to defend an unoccupied space on their own. One afternoon, a woman, S48, entered to find three of the four tables occupied by students. A fourth table carried a notebook and two of the four chairs around it held backpacks. S48 asked S25 if she could sit at his table and he responded, “sure, but I may ask you some questions about IRB.” The woman proceeded to sit down and work. Although S25 did ask a question or two a few minutes later, there was no extended conversation indicating familiarity between the two. When asked to speculate on why S48 chose his table as opposed to the empty one, S25 responded: “Once there are two people at a table, we take up enough space that it’s — it’s atypical that someone else will come sit down at that table with you.”

In one session, S25 approached one of the researchers and asked who he was and what he was doing. When asked about this event, he responded: “we’re trying to create like a safe space … Ask them if you can help them with anything. Or find out what they’re doing there so that they understand what the space’s purpose is” (S25). When asked if he felt comfortable doing this, he answered, “yeah. Yeah, because you wouldn’t be very good — it wouldn’t be good for you to make any enemies there. So it was a bit of a power thing there.” Clearly this was a polite, but confident reactionary defence directed at protecting his studio. S25 was not the only one to approach a researcher in this way, but he was the only one that did not have a pre-existing relationship.

Struggling for control

As the Masters students sought to establish themselves in the studio space, there were conflicts with other stakeholders. The pirate flag, about which feelings were mixed, was a casualty of a power struggle between the faculty and its supporter(s). It was hung in an apparent effort to identify the space with the Masters students, but not everyone agreed with the sentiment it conveyed: “There was a professor who found that since this was a shared space and there’s groups coming here other than us, that that might be interpreted wrong by other people, so that’s why it got taken down initially” (S4). It seems the professor reacted to defend users of the space from this apparent affront by asserting his control over the environment as a member of the faculty.

One afternoon a few Masters students entered the space with a large flat panel display and a gaming console for research. Unfortunately, there was only space for it in a PhD space. Discussion quickly turned to whether or not it was OK to place the system in territory occupied by the PhD students and conflict surfaced. S4 explained it arose from the need to be “respectful of the PhD people” and the knowledge that “the only way people are going to know it’s here is by its being present.”

Finally, the students and faculty both emphasised the importance of getting dirty. This was a theme common to all five interviews. HCI/d designers need to be able to get dirty and make a mess in the studio. If they are to build prototypes, they can’t be worried about spilling paint on the floor. Shulman (2005a) indicates the constant exposure to others working is epistemologically important and yet this space was always clean, and tidy. When students brought materials, they left no trace when finished. This is due in part to contradictory faculty messages: “they can do things in it, as long as they clean up afterwards …” (F2) whereas the previous space, experienced by second year students, was secluded in a basement, rarely visited by anyone other than HCI/d Masters students. Its walls were covered with sketches and notes; counter spaces held works in progress. By contrast, students internalised the need to keep the new space clean. One of the researchers in this study with over two-dozen classical design courses in various studio environments observed that the studio space was uncharacteristically clean. S4 lamented that “you can’t goof around up here. …It does happen, but not to the extent they did before” and “we no longer have our personal storage…” This feeling is compounded by a perception it “is now shared by the dean and anybody else who can come and hold events in here, so there’s got to be more thought given to what is being hung up on the walls and things like that” (S4).

The Masters students that we observed using the space exhibited a variety of territorial behaviours. Many of these seemed to be motivated by a desire to establish a space for the group rather than for individuals. Although the researchers expected to find individual territoriality, our data clearly tell a story of group identity and ownership in the space.

Meeting the needs of the students

Our third question explores how well the HCI/d studio meets its students’ needs for personal or private territory. This iteration meets some student needs well while others are not yet realised and, in some cases, these needs are satisfied elsewhere. While its occupants make regular use of the presentation tables, we did not notice contention over resources. The beanbags along the north side of the space and the sofa in the southeast corner both provided comfortable spaces for students to nap.

Exposure to work

All interviewees, Masters students and faculty alike, expressed a need for freedom and space to get dirty. An important epistemological component of a studio is the constant exposure to others working (Demirbaş and Demirkan, 2003) and yet the space was always clean and tidy despite the fact cleaning staff maintain the space only once a week. Similarly, though the faculty believes the epistemology of the studio environment to involve “the entire building …it’s work everywhere” (F2), no space expressly reserved for the display of projects yet exists.

Storage

As discussed earlier, the new studio space does not provide any facility for storing personal materials. As a result, S30 indicated that she used the space less because doing so meant she would have to carry her materials back and forth from her home. Both second year students remarked on the absence of lockers, despite having had some in the basement space and perceived promises that this feature would be replicated in the new space.

Social interaction

Although it did not seem to present difficulties worthy of mention by S4 or S25, S30 had mixed feelings about the social nature of the space and her seeming inability to escape it. “[Y]ou just don’t get that community feeling. Which is kind of a shame. Because that’s exactly what they wanted, it seems. They wanted PhD and Masters students to interact more. And I think that they are, but I think that’s also a drawback of the space, is that there’s so much socialising going on because of it. That’s why I don’t go there to work ever.”

Limitations of the Study

As we analysed this rich data set, we noted some limitations of the study resulting primarily from the newness of the space, the nature of the programme itself, and the students it attracts.

This study was conducted during the first semester this space was in use as the primary workspace provided to our study participants and this had a number of implications. Physically, important aspects of the construction had not been completed — most notably, the locks securing the entry/exit doors. Indeed, some faculty materials were still being moved from old offices to new. Although it is clear that the students we observed and spoke with felt uncomfortable making a mess, it seems likely that this is, at least in part, due to the fact that everything is still clean and new.

Our participants were all HCI/d Masters students or very recent graduates at the time of the data collection. They were trained, as designers, to change an existing situation to a preferred one (Friedman, 2003) and therefore criticality is to be expected.

Although the awareness of being studied is sufficient to alter behaviour to some degree (Lincoln and Guba, 1985), the researchers avoided exacerbating the situation by not interfering or asking questions during the observations. As a result, much of our interpretation came from our informed inferences and the recollections and guesses of our interviewees.

Conclusion

Within the data collected and analysed in this study, individual territoriality was not seen to be the norm, but was observed in isolated incidents. The primary utilisation of defensive behaviour applied more directly to groups in the space. These groups were largely ad hoc as observed in the space, but could have potentially been related to project groups, individual courses within the curriculum, or classification as first- or second-year students, or as Masters and Doctoral students. The need for personal space was apparently not anticipated or assumed by many students, particularly the first-year Masters students who had not experienced the previous studio space, which provided greater isolation due to its remote location. Students appeared to address any personal space in a transitory manner, seeking out minimal personal boundaries while present in the space, often in the form of their personal computer, and removing all personal artefacts when leaving. Some students also reported setting up their primary personal working space at home or in other areas, infrequently relying on the studio space for the function. Based on the knowledge that some students were not observed in the space despite significant and varied coverage in a high traffic period and university guidance that a standard three-credit hour course requires nine hours out of class (Indiana University , 2011), it can be inferred that some students worked elsewhere.

The space was designed by the faculty to include integration of faculty and student spaces, provision of public spaces dominated by visible student work, and the possibility of a studio-based teaching model where applicable. As students found it necessary, the built environment did support the expression of territorial behaviours in spite of the lack of explicit provision. Significant discrepancies apparent in the final space included omission of mechanisms for displaying student work and the current status of teaching studio-based courses in the space — courses were in the planning stages but not yet active. Further, barriers created by walls added late in the construction process counteracted the goals of faculty and student space integration.

The authors find that this space is too young to thoroughly apply the framework for understanding the design studio (Cennamo et al., 2010). Elements of the faculty’s design intent and usage patterns within the space do align — particularly the desire that students be immersed in the work of others and certain social aspects such as critiques and the evolving community. However, the space is too new for discussion to be meaningful.

This study suggests opportunities for future research including investigation into group territoriality, the transition between the design intent of the studio space and the actual functioning and utilisation of such a space, and the shaping of a design culture both through explicit pedagogy and implicit sharing and shaping of culture between students and faculty. While Human-Computer Interaction design is a distinct and evolving pedagogy it is worth investigating the feasibility of shared workspaces in more traditional studio design programmes such as architecture. Additionally, recognising the computer as an element of personal territory may present opportunities for researching individual territoriality in a transitory design studio space.

Appendix A

Appendix B

Examples of interview questions for faculty members

1. When did you become involved in the design of The Space? What stage was the design in at that point?

2. What do you feel are the most important features of this design studio program?

3. How does The Space figure into the pedagogy of your classes? Of the department as a whole?

Interviewer will ask probing questions to follow up on participant responses.

Examples of interview questions for students

1. What felt need do you have, if any, for personal space or territory as a student in HCI/d.

2. How do you satisfy any need you might feel for personal space as a student in the HCI/d program?

3. During my observations, I noticed ____________. Can you recall the purpose behind this action? (Repeat with other behaviours as necessary.)

Interviewer will ask probing questions to follow up on participant responses.

Acknowledgements

We would like to thank our participants for their time, Shelley Fyman for her editorial skill and Professor Elizabeth Boling for her advice and guidance.