-By Katie Weeks

In 2000, Malcolm Gladwell shot to the top of the bestseller lists with The Tipping Point, which introduced the masses to those moments when change happens quickly and unexpectedly. His follow-up, Blink, focused on the idea of rapid recognition and thinking that must happen in the blink of an eye—a moment familiar to architecture and design veterans.

Throughout the course of each project, there comes a point—or two or 10—where an architect or designer runs up against a project limitation—be it budget, time, red tape, etc.—and must react. For some, these roadblocks serve as a stop sign for innovation, curtailing the design in one way or another. For others, however, in these moments project constraints transform from obstacles into opportunities for innovation. And for others still, these elements aren't limitations or obstacles, but simply the defining characteristics of the profession.

"I happen to believe there isn't anything other than limitations, so I don't have a problem facing them because I cannot conceive something that is not grounded in these conditions of feasibility," says New York-based architect Rafael Viñoly. "Limitations, in general, are not so much limitations as misformulations. In other words, to me an inherent part of the design proposal is to find these problems."

So how can designers capitalize on these project characteristics and the points at which he or she may encounter them and turn them into springboards for pushing an idea or concept beyond the conventional? First, it seems key to realize that these pivotal points aren't as much singular defining moments as they are a continual process, and it is this evolution that should be embraced. "Charles Eames' daughter recently told me that according to Charles, innovation was completely overrated. After all, only about six percent of all innovations actually come into effect as products of design," says Clive Wilkinson, AIA, RIBA, president and design director at Clive Wilkinson Architects in Los Angeles. "The evolution of products and design is much more valuable."

Evolution is also what keeps things exciting. "A lot of the time, a client is going to drive you to a certain place, and then you have to work with the situation. Design is so collaborative that you don't really have control over these moments in a big way," says Elva Rubio, executive vice president and creative director at Bruce Mau Design in Chicago. Instead, Rubio says, the process is akin to riding the log flume at an amusement park. "You move from one curve to the next. It's a continuum, and the issues evolve and flow and change," she explains. "Your choices, basically, are to keep it moving, flowing, and evolving, or to wipe out."

And making sure the client is along for the ride from the beginning is essential in pushing beyond a conventional solution. "Finding out who the clients are and how they see themselves—those are the pivotal issues," says Wilkinson. "Once you find their comfort zone and see where they want the project to go, that's the point at which you decide how far you can push, because, ultimately, the result is intimately related to how the client is going to adapt to it and use it." Keeping the client—rather than the push for innovation—at the heart of a project is essential, Wilkinson says. If the client is forgotten, it becomes easy to push a concept beyond the innovative and into the realm of the inappropriate. "We constantly have to remind ourselves that we're in service to a client," he explains. "It doesn't matter if a project looks spectacular and impresses everyone if the users are uncomfortable. It's like putting an avant-garde set of clothes on a conservative person. They might look good in it, but they might not be comfortable."

Drilling down with the client is key to Viñoly, as well. "If the person wants something that's different from what's depicted in his brief then you need to really engage him and find the problem," he says. "These moments aren't stumbling blocks. They're the basic essence of what we do: To deal with the circumstances, try to make sense of the project's purpose, and make people understand that they may not be completely attuned to what it is exactly that they need."

This mind-set, Viñoly says, makes all the difference. "Everything is a limitation. Gravity is a limitation, but we don't get sad that it exists. It would be a waste of time," he says. "Every single thing that relates to design is some sort of articulation of a limit or a condition with clear determinates—whether it's money, gravity, constructability, adherence to a program, or technology. You take those things and, rather then think of them as hurdles, think of them as your subject matter. A sculptor who works in marble doesn't think of marble as a limitation and architecture is the same.