Business In Archviz

By Simon OudietteFebruary 14

How luxury archviz became a cliché factory

Introduction: The illusion of luxury

First article of 2025. I had the topic in mind for a while and finally managed to circle back to it—and boy, was it relaxing and fun to write!

But what is it about? Let's talk about how bad archviz for luxury is, because lately, it is phenomenal! Luxury real estate marketing is an industry obsessed with crafting a dream. It's not a new approach, it's not original, even car manufacturers think designing luxurious buildings is a good idea. Yay!

The problem? Many of these dreams feel suspiciously familiar. From that luxury car driving slowly in the same driveway with a garage door opening in slow motion, to the ever-present sheer curtain gently billowing in the wind, to that classy woman walking by with her flowing dress—storytelling in archviz is predictable, repetitive, and hollow.

Artists, as they often do, are focusing on the wrong thing. “But look, my images look so realistic! I even integrated that woman perfectly into the scene and avoided fringing! And we used Unreal Engine with super-duper advanced rigging to create that shot! Hurray!” Unfortunately, none of this makes up for the cheap storytelling being sold in the first place. Production quality is top-notch, yet the visual tropes feel staged, impersonal, and interchangeable. These narratives resemble stock footage collections rather than tailored experiences. "But it's AI generated with Sora, so cooooool, loooooook!"

So where did it all go wrong?

A Common Misconception on Storytelling

I've always had an issue with the concept of storytelling in archviz and always prefered the more nuanced idea of intent to it. I happily see that creatives are starting to ditch this shallow buzzword in 2025—at least according to CreativeBoom; let’s see how long it takes for archviz to catch up.

The core idea isn’t necessarily bad—an image should tell something—but the execution often feels like we’re force-fitting a random, stereotypical story into the architecture, as if that automatically makes it feel more real and engaging all that while completely disregarding the fundamentals of composition (not just grid systems, actual composition).

We've also had our fair share of gurus preaching about the necessity of storytelling, misunderstanding that a story doesn’t always need to be in your face—it can be subtle. Much more subtle.

Instead of letting the architecture speak for itself or enhancing it with thoughtful narrative elements, we get overacted “moments” of ultra-rich people doing absurdly staged things. The narratives are copy-pasted from one property to the next (and one 3d file to the next), despite architects claiming their designs are unique.

All this makes for marketing that feels generic rather than exclusive, predictable rather than original, and as emotionally layered as that very same transparent curtain billowing in the wind.

How Archviz is Stuck in a Boring Luxury Loop

Don’t believe me? Here’s a simple proof. I don’t need a single illustration in this section, but by just listing a short description of those typical shots, I can guarantee you’ll instantly visualize dozens of examples. Heck, you might have worked on these yourself (sorry...).

“Luxury Drive-in Scene” – The obligatory shot of a luxury car driving in, sometimes with a garage door dramatically opening. Almost always used as the opening scene.
“Sheer Curtain Breeze” – Floor-to-ceiling curtains billowing in slow motion as glass doors slide open to a panoramic view.
“Live Action Stock Footage” – Luxury marketing usually have this tendency of mixing live action stock footage that looks awkwardly cheap, with 3d rendered sections. The result is not necessarily bad, but the stock footage vibe makes it look quite cheap.
“Natural element with Michael Bay's flares” – A random close-up of rippling pool water or a sunlit palm tree with the biggest flare you've ever seen.
“Golden Hour is the Only Hour” – Almost every shot takes place at sunrise or sunset, exaggerating the glow to unrealistic levels.
“Hands on the Balustrade” – A stylishly dressed man or woman, hand resting lightly on a glass balustrade as the camera pulls back to reveal a city skyline or ocean view. Should we add the whiskey glass too?
“State-of-the-Art Gym” – A home gym with zero towels, water bottles, or actual signs of use. Usually with fewer machines than your $20/month local gym.
“We’re All Yogis, Everywhere” – A woman doing yoga in a mansion bathed in soft morning light, even if the house has nothing to do with wellness.
“That weird couple” – A couple doing something oddly unnatural (reading the same book together, slow-dancing in the kitchen, randomly laugh in slow motion). Occasionally includes a close-up of hand holding. Cute.
“What About Family?” – If the home is marketed as family-friendly, there must be a child running in circles on a perfectly manicured lawn, preferably with a wooden airplane in hand.
"That dramatic drone shot" – With the rise of drone footage we also get those overly dramatic drone footage reveal shot that generally will fall flat if the architecture doesn't fit.

Now, do you know what’s sad? I could keep listing 50 more and then ask ChatGPT to scrape the internet and generate 50 more. The point is, we’ve all seen these.

Since we’re on an archviz platform, it’s easy to assume the problem lies with visualization artists—but what if the issue starts earlier, with the architects themselves? If luxury real estate marketing feels formulaic, could it be because some architects are already designing with these clichés in mind? I always push my students to challenge their clients and propose more daring approaches, but when the base material is uninspired, even the best visualization can only do so much.

Because what’s actually wrong with this generic approach?

When Luxury Feels Cheap

Ironically, this recycled visual language cheapens the very idea of luxury. When every high-end property is sold with the same overused tropes, they stop feeling exclusive and start feeling like a template or checklist even.

There is genuinely more creativity in the way social housing is marketed than in luxury apartments worth millions. Marketers and artists seem to conflate true luxury with surface-level markers of wealth, relying on formulaic storytelling that:

Makes every penthouse, villa, or estate look interchangeable
Fails to create authenticity or real-world value
Ends up looking like stock footage instead of an elite real estate experience

If luxury is about exclusivity, why does every marketing campaign look exactly the same? It seems that artists, and marketers at large, are not able to tell the difference between rich storytelling and gimmicky visuals.

Do Buyers Even Want This? The Real Luxury Audience Problem

So why does the market keep feeding the same clichés? Because it assumes all wealthy buyers only care about gold, infinity pools, and private jets. But who’s really responsible for this assumption? The marketers, the architects, the artists? Or do the buyers actually want these clichés?

Marketers’ Fallacy: Mistaking Exposure for Demand

The reality is that:

Many self-made millionaires and billionaires live surprisingly simple, low-key lives and value privacy and discretion over flashy, status-driven consumption.
The most commonly owned car among millionaires isn’t a Rolls Royce—it’s a Toyota or Honda.
The ultra-wealthy prioritize craftsmanship, heritage, and long-term investments over hollow, mass-market luxury aesthetics.

Luxury real estate marketing often targets the aspirational rich—those who want to look wealthy rather than those who actually are wealthy. And in terms of a business model, isn’t it a bit strange to focus on the smaller, less wealthy segment while ignoring the actual ultra-rich? But hey, let’s assume this is a genius strategy.

This all stems from a well-documented marketing fallacy:
Market Exposure Effect (Marketers' Side) states that if marketers only ever see one type of luxury marketing succeed (the cliché-filled version), they assume that’s the only thing that works. The repetition creates an illusion of demand, rather than reflecting actual consumer preference.

However, buyers might not actually want this. They’re just not being given better options.

Buyers’ Dilemma: Accepting the Cliché Because There’s No Alternative

On the buyer's side, we have a bias called preference falsification:
Preference Falsification (Buyers' Side) states that buyers publicly accept cliché luxury storytelling because it’s the only option available. They might privately prefer a more thoughtful, experience-driven luxury aesthetic, but they settle for what’s on the market because it’s the only thing being offered.

So the real problem is circular:

Marketers assume cliché luxury sells → so they keep making the same thing.
Buyers see only cliché luxury → so they assume that’s what luxury is.
Nobody breaks the cycle → and we get the same infinity pools, champagne glasses, and golden sunsets forever.

So, do buyers actually want this? Or is this just the result of a self-fulfilling loop created by marketing stagnation? The answer is, it doesn't matter.

Even the Instagrammer Deserves a Bit of Care and Creativity

Even if we admit that some buyers do enjoy performative wealth, that doesn’t mean the storytelling has to be lazy and uninspired.

If we are catering to the “Instagram-rich” audience, we should still:

Push for original compositions instead of formulaic scenes.
Create unique narratives instead of using “rich person holding whiskey glass” as a personality.
Emphasize aspirational spaces that feel alive, personal, and immersive, rather than stiff and overproduced.

Just because a subset of wealthy people like to flex doesn’t mean they don’t deserve a fresh, visually compelling way to do so.

Because the problem with all this, is not even that people are relying on the same ideas, but that artists are using the exact same fricking composition for the exact same idea.

If at least artists were spending an extra 10 minutes to find a way of depicting that car entering the garage in an original way. But no. It's always the same frontal shot.

If at least that shot of the guy leaning on the balustrade wasn't always the same, but it always is the same outfit, same framing, with the same view.

If at least that shot of the woman doing yoga wasn't always framed the same way, but it's always a central perspective with soft light.

If at least shots were a bit more diverse than endless boring trucking and dollying through space, but it's always the same camera motion.

If at least music impact on perception was considered and we stopped having over dramatic music for a shot of a coffee table, but we still have those epic coffee table shots akin to the battle of Helm's Deep.

In the same way that large budgets give opportunities for architecture companies to do more original things (although they do fail too), even with a luxurious sandbox, artists are still serving us the same exact storytelling, using the exact same compositions. Talk about uniqueness and exclusivity.

Conclusion: Rethinking Luxury Storytelling

Luxury real estate marketing has become predictable, hollow, and mass-produced, undermining the exclusivity it tries to sell.

Whether targeting billionaires, investors, or Instagram influencers, luxury storytelling needs to evolve.

Buyers are smarter than marketers assume. The demand for authentic, creative, and culturally rich storytelling is there—it just needs to be met. The industry has an opportunity to break away from cut-and-paste luxury tropes and create something truly worthy of the spaces being sold.

What I want to emphasize, is that there is immense potential for differentiation by crafting original narratives that truly embrace the architectural design and its specificities. And when differentiation is easy, it becomes even more easier to stand out from the crowd, so for any one interested in working in the luxury market, there is a huge gap waiting to be filled. One just needs to see a bit further than the same champagne party and black sports car in the driveway, and maybe revise their fundamentals.

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About this article

Luxury real estate marketing is a joke. Same golden hour glow, same slow-motion curtains, same bored billionaire with a whiskey glass. Instead of selling exclusivity, archviz keeps churning out the same tired clichés, making expensive properties look like stock footage. This article tears apart the lazy storytelling, exposes why it keeps happening, and asks the uncomfortable question: do buyers even want this, or is the industry just stuck on autopilot?

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