The Rhythm of a Room: How I Approach Shooting Architecture
There’s a subtle tempo to every space — a rhythm shaped by light, line, scale, and how people move through it. When I film architecture, I’m not just documenting finishes and floor plans. I’m trying to capture that rhythm.
Over the past decade, I’ve worked on architectural films for clients like The Modern House, Story of Home, Residential Land, and Compton, covering everything from crisp London townhouses to secluded countryside conversions. Whether it’s a home, a development, or a workspace, my approach is rooted in the same principle: let the space lead.
Where It Started
My architectural filmmaking journey began with The Modern House, who’d seen my Made in London series and were drawn to the way I told stories. They invited me to produce films for their then-new YouTube channel — my first real foray into shooting buildings as subjects in their own right. At the time I hadn’t even used a gimbal before, something very much part of the filming style these days. In fact, on the first shoot, I couldn’t balance it properly and ended up abandoning it altogether. But by the second film — part of the Living with Colour collaboration with Farrow & Ball — something clicked. From that point on, the gimbal became a key part of how I approach architecture on film: not just for smooth movement, but as a way of shaping how a space is experienced by the viewer.
Letting the Architecture Set the Pace
Every space has its own tone — and every brief demands something slightly different. An interview led film requires more time spent on transitions, reactions, and narrative led visuals. A fly-through edit might call for precise gimbal movement and broad spatial reveals. And for presenter-led content, the energy comes from matching performance with setting — keeping the frame reactive, not static.
I don’t apply a one-size-fits-all template. Instead, I listen to what the content needs, and then build a camera strategy that supports that rhythm.
Movement That Mirrors Design
Much of my architecture work is shot on gimbal, not for flash, but to let the viewer move with the space. The way the camera glides around a staircase or pivots to reveal a long corridor isn’t decoration — it’s a translation of the architecture’s own language.
If the design is calm and symmetrical, I reflect that with slower, centred movement. If it’s playful or layered, the shots become more fluid and responsive. The aim isn’t to show off what I can do with the kit — it’s to visually respect the structure and its flow.
Detail vs Atmosphere
Filming architecture requires a balance between precision and feeling. It’s easy to shoot a bunch of clean, well-lit details and call it a day. But without the atmosphere — how light shifts, how people interact with the space — the film can end up sterile.
I try to bridge that gap. I want the craftsmanship to come through, but I also want the building to breathe. Sometimes that means including a passing moment of life — a door closing, wind through curtains, someone settling into a chair — to remind us the space is lived in, not staged.
Adapting to Collaboration
I’ve been lucky to work with forward-thinking clients like The Modern House, who understand that architectural filmmaking is about tone as much as clarity. The same goes for Story of Home and Compton — teams that value storytelling and subtlety over simple sales footage.
That collaboration shapes everything. Whether it’s the developer, designer, or resident, I always start with the same questions: What matters in this space? What story are we trying to tell?
Because at the end of the day, good architectural filmmaking doesn’t just show a structure. It shows how it feels to move through it — and invites the viewer to imagine doing the same.
If you're a brand, designer, or publication looking to communicate thoughtful stories about space — get in touch.
