Architectural Illustration

What the book really is

Architectural Illustration is a practical book, but it is not merely technical. Peter Jarvis is clearly interested in helping readers make better images, yet he is just as interested in explaining what architectural illustration actually is, where it came from, how it functions professionally, and why drawing still matters even when digital tools dominate much of the visual culture of architecture. That is what makes the book more substantial than a narrow skills manual. It is about the making of images, but also about the role of those images in architecture, publishing, advertising, planning, heritage, and public understanding. From the opening pages onward, Jarvis presents the subject as the illustration of buildings and the built environment, seen in context, rather than as a limited exercise in rendering technique.

The table of contents helps explain the book’s scope very quickly. It moves from introductory professional framing into chapters on drawing methods and process, composition, colour, street view, aerial view, topographical illustration, and appraisal and reflection. That is a smart progression. It begins with what the profession is and how commissions work, then moves into how pictures are made, then into how particular kinds of views are constructed, and finally into broader reflection on topography, realism, place, and the profession itself. That sequence keeps the book from feeling like a random collection of tips. It has a real teaching structure.

Jarvis’s main attitude

The strongest thread running through the book is Jarvis’s conviction that drawing remains the heart of architectural illustration. This does not mean he rejects digital practice. In fact, he explicitly acknowledges that many illustrators now combine traditional and computer skills, and the book includes Photoshop, SketchUp, scanning, digital rendering, Street View, and other contemporary tools. But he insists that drawing is still the foundation because it is inseparable from looking, observation, and enquiry. To draw on location is to investigate a building, a street, or a site in a way that develops real visual intelligence. That claim gives the book both its educational seriousness and its identity. Jarvis is not trying to defend old media sentimentally; he is arguing that traditional seeing-skills remain relevant because they make all other representation more convincing.

This is also why the book feels grounded. Jarvis repeatedly presents drawing not just as an expressive act but as a problem-solving one. Technical issues can often be understood and communicated through drawing more clearly than through words. Materials become more believable when the illustrator has actually studied them. Perspective becomes more intuitive when the illustrator has sketched streets, buildings, roofs, and trees on site rather than relying only on software. Even in a digital workflow, the line drawing often remains what “holds the work together,” as Jarvis says in his discussion of digitally coloured pen sketches. That observation is especially telling. He sees digital colouring as an extension of drawing, not as a substitute for it.

Professional usefulness

One of the best parts of the book is Chapter 1, because it makes clear that architectural illustration is not a decorative niche but a real professional service. Jarvis explains that commissions can come from individuals ordering house portraits, from architects needing planning visuals, from developers and advertising agencies, from publishers, from editorial clients, and from historical or educational projects. This is useful because it broadens the reader’s picture of the field. The illustrator is not only making “pretty views” of proposed buildings; they may be supporting planning consent, selling a development, contributing to a magazine article, reconstructing a historic site, or helping a client visualize a dayroom extension before it exists.

The planning discussion is particularly strong. Jarvis explains that perspective illustrations often become important because planning officers and committees do not always read 2D plans and elevations equally well. A perspective view can clarify what a proposal will actually look like. At the same time, he is very aware of the ethical side of that role. An illustration can help understanding, but it can also mislead. His discussion of planning, marketing, and the legacy of misleading “artist’s impressions” in property advertising makes clear that honesty matters. This keeps the book from becoming naïve. Jarvis knows very well that architectural illustrations are persuasive tools, and he treats that power seriously.

His case studies are valuable for the same reason. The Swan Cottage planning case, for example, shows how site photographs, architects’ hand-drawn plans, verbal briefing, perspective setup, and final watercolours all interact in a real commission. The Chichester advertising brochure case shows another side of the job, where a listed Georgian town house is illustrated for sales material using both wire-frame models and watercolour. These examples make the book feel real. The reader sees not only finished images but also drafts, rejected views, site problems, and client instructions. That is the sort of knowledge many beginners do not otherwise get.

Structure and pedagogy

The middle chapters appear to work as the book’s technical and visual backbone. The index and chapter references show that Jarvis covers perspective theory and practice, eye level, vanishing points, composition, the rule of thirds, colour theory, light and shade, tone and contrast, aerial perspective, and digital rendering in a fairly systematic way. What is good about this is that the technical material sits inside the larger professional context established earlier. In other words, the theory of a perspective grid or the use of atmospheric perspective is not taught as isolated geometry; it is taught as part of the making of plausible and communicative pictures.

The chapter on composition seems especially important. Jarvis links compositional arrangement to the credibility of an illustration and discusses things like the rule of thirds, tonal organization, the arrangement of entourage, and even something close to filmic staging through the idea of putting things into the frame. That is a smart move because it shows that an architectural illustration is never only about the building. Street furniture, trees, signs, figures, cars, and foreground objects all affect plausibility, meaning, and visual balance. Jarvis is very aware that a convincing illustration must be designed as a picture, not just assembled as factual information.

The colour chapter also appears stronger than many comparable manuals because it links colour to perception, atmosphere, and material understanding, not just paint mixing. Jarvis discusses colour theory basics, additive and subtractive colour, primary and secondary colours, rendering three-dimensional shapes, flat and graduated washes, tone and contrast, and the relation between colour and texture. This matters because architectural illustration depends on more than accuracy of outline. Materials have to feel right. Distance has to read. Roofs, brick, stone, trees, sky, and paving all need appropriate treatment if the picture is to persuade.

Street views, aerial views, and topographical illustration

The later structure of the book is especially interesting because Jarvis divides the subject by view type. The street view chapter addresses the familiar perspective seen from human eye level, where buildings sit in a pedestrian and urban context. The aerial view chapter then moves to the elevated or bird’s-eye position, where site layouts, massing, landscaping, and whole developments become readable at once. Jarvis treats the aerial view as something that can work both as diagram and as artist’s impression, depending on its purpose. That is an important insight. Aerial views often need to balance clarity of planning information with realism and aesthetic appeal, especially when they serve both planning and marketing.

His discussion of vertical vanish in aerial views is especially useful. He points out that elevated views can benefit from a third vanishing point to feel more realistic, especially in large developments or tall buildings. This suggests that the book is not simplistic in its perspective teaching. Jarvis is attentive to the way photographic distortion, human perception, and pictorial convention all affect the final image. That gives the book more depth than a beginner-only manual.

The topographical chapter seems to deepen the book further by connecting contemporary illustration to a longer history of recording place. Jarvis returns to the topographical tradition, to accurate view-making, to site drawing, and to the idea that architectural illustration can work as both documentation and interpretation. His use of Julia Moszkowicz’s phrase “a dialogue with the past” is especially telling. The point here is that illustrating a historic building is not only about making a beautiful image. It is also about capturing continuity, memory, and the coexistence of past and present in one place. That gives the book an unexpectedly thoughtful ending. It becomes not just a skills book but a reflection on why some kinds of architectural drawing matter culturally.

Artist profiles and professional culture

Another feature that adds value is the inclusion of artist profiles. Don Coe, Kate Dicker, Chris Fothergill, Richard Rees, Joseph Robson, Keith Hornblower, and Jarvis himself are all represented. These profiles matter because they show there is no single path into the profession. Some come from architecture, some from art, some from self-taught practice, some from hybrid design backgrounds. This widens the book beyond technique into professional culture. The reader sees architectural illustration as a field with traditions, societies, specialists, exhibitions, and varied career routes. That is particularly useful for younger readers trying to imagine where such work fits today.

Strengths

The book’s first major strength is its balance between tradition and contemporary reality. It gives drawing pride of place without pretending Photoshop and digital workflows do not matter. The second is professional realism. Jarvis writes from practice, and the case studies make that obvious. The third is breadth: planning, advertising, publishing, editorial work, house portraits, topographical studies, urban sketches, street views, aerial views, and heritage illustration all appear. The fourth is the way history is woven into the argument, especially in the introduction and topographical sections. The fifth is clarity. The book seems to be built for actual learning rather than mystification.

Limitations

Its limitations are mostly matters of emphasis. Jarvis openly writes from the standpoint of a traditional illustrator, so readers seeking a heavily technical CGI book, a purely academic history of representation, or a software-specific pipeline manual will not find that here. Also, because the book covers many applications, it cannot go as deeply into any single one as a specialist text might. But that breadth is also what makes it useful. The book is strongest as an orientation, a professional guide, and a skills framework rather than as a narrow expert manual in one digital niche.

Final judgment

My judgment is strongly positive. Architectural Illustration looks like a very good practical book precisely because it does not separate seeing, drawing, technique, and professional purpose. It teaches that illustration is not just a matter of rendering attractive buildings; it is a way of observing, explaining, selling, documenting, and remembering architecture. Its greatest value lies in showing how all of those roles can belong to one discipline. That makes it useful not only for beginners, but also for readers who want a grounded picture of what architectural illustration actually is.

Command Palette