Buying a ticket to hear Ada Karmi-Melamede talk about her discipline would be money well spent. Ms. Karmi-Melamede is an Israeli architect who has her name on several prize commissions in her native country; these include the Supreme Court Building, the Open University, the Israel Institute for Democracy, and Ben Gurion University.  She is the subject of Yael Melamede’s new documentary, “Ada: My Mother the Architect.”

A lot of the movie’s running time is spent at Ms. Karmi-Melamede’s drawing board and dining table, with close-ups of her sketching with a pencil and being quizzed by her daughter, the filmmaker. She shows little patience for Ms. Melamede and, especially, topics that cut close to the bone — not least, her history as a parent. But architecture? Ms. Karmi-Melamede speaks to its meaning and purpose in a manner that is all the more vivifying for its abiding clarity of spirit.

“Ada” is rife with moments that merit repeating. Ms. Karmi-Melamede explains how the anonymity of many contemporary buildings is due to their lack of earthly connection: “All the glass towers that we are prisoners of, they touch the ground … [but] they have no roots.” What is it that makes a work of architecture vital? “Every time we build something … we have to engage with the old, the layers of what is the past, and the desire to innovate or change things.”

Ms. Karmi-Melamede speaks movingly of “the most important building ever,” the Pantheon, and the transformative power of light. Geography figures into the discussion as it applies to the light of Israel, whose intensity and brightness is deemed “unpleasant.” All the while the screen flits through time-lapse views of interiors to which Ms. Karmi-Melamede has employed architectural means to create a softness of effect by the diffusion, or “bouncing,” of light.

The funniest scene in “Ada” occurs when mother and daughter meander through the Supreme Court Building and come across a group of tourists. “Note the motif of water,” their guide intones, “the water is bubbling here like the womb of a woman giving birth,” whereupon he waxes poetic about “the journey of life” and gives an allusive nod to political friction. The architect is amused: “What a story!” Ms. Karmi-Melamede assures her daughter, as well as the stray tourist, that high-flown talk of wombs is so much guff.

Ms. Karmi-Melamede was born at Tel Aviv in 1936 to a family inclined to the art and craft of architecture. Her father, Dov Karmi, was a spearhead of modernist aesthetics in what was then Mandatory Palestine. Ms. Karmi-Melamede’s brother, Ram, worked alongside their father, but young Ada was still in school upon Dov’s death. She would get married, move to New York City, teach at Columbia University, and, when her application for tenure was denied, return to Israel — without husband or children in tow.

Did I mention that our filmmaker studied as an architect as well? Melamede the Younger ditched the family trade for a medium more conducive to her interests, which, in the case of “Ada,” involves the celebration of a world-class architect and an attempt to understand a mother’s life choices. Before the opening credits roll, we hear Ms. Melamede declare her statement of purpose to its subject: “I want everyone to know you love me.” Ms. Karmi-Melamede responds with a smile, a laugh, and a kindly: “Okay, get her out of here.” It’s not the last time we experience a mother’s exasperation with a daughter’s endeavor.

“Ada: My Mother the Architect” tells its story through the reading of family letters, an array of photos, television clips, interviews with peers like Frank Gehry and Moishe Safdie, and panoramic views of the buildings designed by Ms. Karmi-Melamede. How satisfied her daughter might be with the exploration of “the impossible choices between career, country, and motherhood” is a good question, but there can be no doubt that the woman at the center of this persuasive documentary is glad it’s over and done with.