Should Architectural Visualization Be Honest ?

What do we really expect today from an architectural image ?

The obvious answer would probably be: photorealism. In other words, an image capable of representing a project, its materials, atmosphere, light and surroundings so convincingly that it could almost be mistaken for a photograph.
But behind the idea of “photorealism” lie very different, and sometimes completely opposing, intentions.

Broadly speaking, we could distinguish two major families of images.

The first could be described as « honest ».

The idea here is to create an image comparable to a photograph that might have been taken once the building is actually built. An image where nothing is excessively enhanced, where the light remains believable and coherent with the climate, season or geography of the place represented. An image that does not exaggerate reality.

In this approach, a housing project located in northern France is not automatically bathed in endless Mediterranean sunlight. Skies may be overcast, atmospheres quieter, sometimes even melancholic. Beauty is not necessarily achieved through spectacle, but through framing, composition and the subtle accuracy of an atmosphere. A photographer, after all, has to work with reality. They cannot move the sun simply because the composition would look better that way, nor turn a grey November afternoon into eternal golden-hour light. And yet, their images can still be beautiful.

These images also tend to feel calmer and more restrained. People are often rare, sometimes absent altogether, allowing the architecture itself to remain the true subject of the image.

The Norwegian studio MIR is probably one of the most emblematic examples of this sensibility. Of course, any categorization remains reductive, but their work perfectly illustrates this almost contemplative, photographic approach to visualization.

At the opposite end of the spectrum lies what could be described as a more « promotional » approach.
The word itself may sound slightly pejorative, but it should not necessarily be understood that way.

Here, the goal is no longer simply to represent a project, but also to tell a story and make it desirable. The image seeks to evoke a lifestyle, a memory, a projection. Architecture becomes both the setting and the subject of the scene.
This approach embraces staging and narrative more openly: dramatic lighting, lush vegetation, cinematic atmospheres, animated scenes of everyday life. The project feels fully inhabited, alive, appropriated by its users. People seem happy there. They seem at home.

Far from being merely artificial, this approach also responds to a very real question: buildings do not exist purely for themselves. They exist to host life, create experiences and provoke emotions.

In this field, the studio Luxigon has profoundly influenced an entire generation of architectural visualizers through its graphic freedom and its ability to create instantly memorable imagery.

Naturally, these two approaches are neither completely opposed nor entirely separate. Most architectural images exist somewhere between those two poles.
And perhaps the real question is not which approach is “right”, but which one is more relevant depending on the context.

IIn an architectural competition, for instance, an image often needs to capture attention immediately, communicate an intention and allow a project to stand out among competing proposals. In that context, a more expressive or narrative image can become a powerful communication tool.
Speaking of competition juries, many people are not necessarily sensitive to what professionals might consider a “beautiful photograph”. They tend to focus more on what is represented than on how it is represented. Show the work of Jeudi Wang to a non-architect, and you may hear reactions such as : “It feels a bit empty… cold… lifeless.” To which one might be tempted to reply that not everyone dreams of living inside a luxury real-estate advertisement. But I digress.

Conversely, many architects, confronted with the difficult reality of actually getting buildings built, increasingly seek images that can almost blend seamlessly with photography, particularly for publications or reference projects. A way perhaps of avoiding the impression of an architecture that exists only through representation.

I certainly do not have a definitive answer to this question myself. For a long time, I defended images capable of “elevating” a project, sometimes even beyond reality itself. But over time, I have become increasingly drawn toward quieter, more restrained representations, without giving up the emotional and atmospheric dimension of architectural imagery.

Because in the end, the goal probably remains the same: revealing the qualities and intentions of a project through a single image, without needing to explain them with words. And perhaps that is already enough.