I just saw a wonderful rustic-contemporary house by eminent architect Peter Bohlin, whose firm – Bohlin, Cywinski, Jackson – is responsible for the design of the Apple stores including the marvelous glass cube on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan as well as the headquarters for Pixar, in Emeryville, California (which I profiled in a previous post). The tour was sponsored by the California Council of the AIA, hence the populated spaces.

The house rides a gentle live oak-studded ridge and offers layout lessons as well as some innovative design details. You follow the long stone wall

to the entry, pass through the wall, and arrive on the deck between the pool and the house. Turn right and you enter the great room.

The stone-paved circulation spine (where everyone is standing) follows the inside of the wall you just paralleled, past the kitchen to the bedrooms at the rear. Turn the other way and you face the pool and the dramatic mountain view.

That familiar stone wall is now leading the eye into the distance even as its

increasingly irregular profile deftly echoes the line of the hills. Now this is architecture that resonates with its setting!

In one sense, and with the Apple connection in mind, it’s a sort of “I-house” (thank you Houseplans.com colleague Ting Lee for this observation!) so here are what I’d call the relevant “architectural apps.”

The cutting board/drain board that’s part of the kitchen island does double duty: it slides on tracks across the sink to form a handy cover for dirty dishes or when you need more

surface area for food preparation or a buffet.

This is a clever idea that I wish I had in my kitchen — the cutting board always needs to be washed off anyway so why not make it part of the sink in the first place. Another “take-away” idea is the way the fireplace forms part of a separate alcove while still warming the room at large, as shown in the overall photo of the great room, above. The generous hearth allows for sitting, wood storage, and display while acting as a focal point for the rest of the space.

It’s a short-hand version of an inglenook, which was popular in Shingle Style and Craftsman homes at the turn of the 20th century. Bohlin’s multi-functional approach continues in the design of the niche for the flat screen television.

It’s hidden behind this sliding steel panel, which is shared with the adjacent deep-sill window — note the barn door track at the top. When you want to watch television you slide the panel to the left and it covers the window, thereby blocking the light. Then — to just slightly adjust  the phrase on every I-Phone — just slide to unblock! A clever alternative to hiding the flat screen behind a painting.

The bathrooms in this house are also very cool and include a double vanity that’s one long concrete trough sink

and a bench that extends through the glass wall of the shower

to maximize the feeling of spaciousness.

The broader lesson of this house is in the simple linearity of its plan: really just one big room connected to bedrooms and bathrooms by a corridor like compartments on a train. And here the deck and pool continue the line, but as rooms that are open to the sky. This “single file arrangement” is a good conceptual starting point for anyone thinking about building a new house and will fit a variety of site conditions. For example, compare Greg La Vardera’s Plan 431-2

where every major room opens to the deck that runs the length of the house, with Plan 491-10 by Werner Field,

with the great room similarly bracketed by bedrooms, decks like running boards, and a breezeway near the center. This sort of linear plan is almost an archetype — Peter Bohlin simply put the great room at one end. So if hiring Apple’s architect is not an option, use these plans to start visualizing what you need for your situation, I mean your “I-Building-Pad.”

The architectural conversation sponsored by the California Council of the AIA at Asilomar last weekend was very rich and has taken me a while to process, hence the continuation from the previous post. Take, for example, the very corporeal ”P_Wall” commissioned by the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art from architect/computer artist Andrew Kudless and shown in his talk. Andrew is on the faculty at California College of Art and founded the Matsys design firm.

When Andrew projected the image above and talked about his interest in how certain structures form in nature, my first reaction was — what is it for? Is it architecture or art? According to Andrew it’s an “exploration of the self-organization of material under force.”

The  wall is made of one hundred fifty cast plaster tiles. According to Andrew “using nylon fabric and wooden dowels as form-work, the weight of the liquid plaster slurry causes the fabric to sag, expand, and wrinkle.” The idea, as I now understand it, is to show how an architectural element — the gallery wall — and one’s skin might overlap (dewlap?!) in form and function. I first thought of Gertrude Stein’s poem “A Long Dress” which asks: “What is the current that makes machinery, that makes it crackle, what is the current that presents a long line and a necessary waist. What is this current. What is the wind, what is it.” Now I begin to see that this folding, bulging line could be the current Gertrude describes. SFMOMA design curator Henry Urbach saw in this wall connections to the organic work of Antonio Gaudi, and now I can see that — a wall that’s both architecture and art, with a nature all its own. I get it now, and I like it, but I wouldn’t want to live with it.

Iconic Homes

The house was another topic of exploration at Asilomar, and we were treated to a talk by Duluth, Minnesota architect David Salmela, whose award-winning work is both modern and regional, like this abstract approach to the sauna

(photo by David Getty, courtesy Minnesota Monthly) or his Jackson Meadow project,

a neighborhood development that manipulates a vocabulary of traditional wood gables and porches in strong contemporary ways (photo courtesy Jackson Meadow). David talked about “looking for the ingredient that defines a place” and designing “to solve the problem and not necessarily to please people.” But I think his work has pleased many because it has an iconic simplicity that always involves a strong connection to nature. A new book on his work has just appeared:

by Thomas Fisher from the University of Minnesota Press. I like the fact that each of David’s projects is very different while at the same time sharing similarities in the use of geometric forms and  natural materials. In his talk he spoke of “emulating, not imitating” other architecture — and I can see visual connections to the work of architects as diverse as Alvar Aalto, Adolph Loos, and Ray Kappe.

Soaring Farms  and Falling Fountains

Two talks seemed to galvanize the architectural audience. The first, by Dr. Dickson Despommier, an Emeritus Professor in the Department of Health Sciences at Columbia University, described the Vertical Farm Project, explained in detail in his book.

The aim is to counteract world food shortages that are projected to occur  by 2050, when the world’s population will have increased by 3 billion. He writes “At present, throughout the world, over 80% of the land that is suitable for raising crops is in use (sources: FAO and NASA). Historically, some 15% of that has been laid waste by poor management practices. What can be done to avoid this impending disaster?” His ingenious solution is to find ways to farm in buildings situated inside the city limits — a way of rehabilitating derelict structures as well as developing new architectural prototypes, like the example shown below: “Urban Farm, Urban Epicenter”  

by Jung Ming Nam. I liked Dr. Despommier’s statement that we tend to treat the city as a parasite (a consumer of resources) when we ought to be looking for ways to make the city’s relationship to the planet symbiotic (more of a partner in the cultivation of resources). He ended his talk by showing a recently completed building in Suwon, South Korea, shown below,

 designed for this very purpose. (A fine article by Lloyd Alter on Treehugger describes how it works; photo courtesy Spiegel Online.) The Vertical Farm is on the rise!

Eminent landscape architect Peter Walker drew rapt attention for his story of working on the World Trade Center Memorial in Manhattan with architect Michael Arad. It turns out that when Arad was selected as one of the 8 finalists, he called Walker and asked him to join his team. Arad’s concept of the two vast voids (each 200 feet square, outlining where the towers had been) endlessly filling with water yet draining into a smaller central void, had already been established but he needed help with the landscape.

Walker, a devotee of modern art, immediately responded to the abstraction of the Arad design, recalling minimalist sculpture by Donald Judd and Carl Andre. He understood that the final design needed to be “strong enough for memory,” and designed the grid of mature trees for the park to act as buffer/transition from the city — planted in a complex architectural infrastructure that he devised — and by working with experts to invent the weir that allowed a large volume of water to fall as efficiently as possible in a continuous curtain — no small feat.

 (These two images courtesy Auhana.) As he said, the fountains were to be about “filling and emptying done at the same time.” The names of those who died form a parapet at the top. As Peter Walker talked I began to understand the extraordinary metaphor for grieving that Michael Arad and he had created:  the fluid welling up in memory as a way to salve, but not wash away, the sorrow. Peter received a standing ovation. Suddenly this little conference center in the sand dunes seemed part of a much larger world.

Summer’s end prompts one last grasp for outdoor recreation, say for this seductive, round stainless steel spa deftly set into a boulder-strewn backyard slope.

Thanks to the simple clarity of the design — a smoothly turned curve set into upper and lower decks that stair-step down the hill — it becomes an integral part of the landscape (unlike so many prefabricated spas that resemble huge plastic tub toys full of bubbling hot water). Rectangular versions can also become focal points instead of eyesores.
This one edges a patio close to the house and doubles as a garden seat.

Here the clear green-blue water stands out against the burnished steel of the spa and the red-brown of the wood deck, to make a serene reflecting pool when not in use (examples and photos courtesy Diamond Spas). Though custom-designed, these modern spas are less expensive than adding a pool, fit smaller spaces, and allow for year-round use. 

Rapunzel was a Ranger — and More

Small towers — with a room at the top for reading, sleeping, or just looking out – have been seductive since well before Rapunzel was asked to let down her hair. There’s just something very appealing about having your own retreat at least one story up with a commanding view across the landscape — especially to architects. Of course it helps to have a way in and out that doesn’t involve a lot of “product.” Montana architect Jeff Shelden of Prairie Wind Architecture designed a tower as a weekend getaway, and patterned it after fire lookouts in national forests, complete with a walk-around balcony.

I visited it with Jeff  during the winter a number of years ago and I was entranced. It has everything: the lower floor is a country kitchen

complete with an old-fashioned range, and a dining nook. Upstairs is the living

area and the wrap-around balcony sheltered by the pyramid roof.

San Francisco Architect Lewis Butler (Butler/Armsden Architects) has designed a getaway for his parents in California’s Central Valley that harks back to 19th and early 20th century water towers, as well as early  work by William Wurster.

A lookout is where the water tank would have been.

The view across fertile fields is majestic: “Good Morning, Yolo County!”

Much of the interior of the tower is occupied by the soaring master bedroom (a circular stair in one corner winds up to the lookout). The kitchen/living space is in the shed roofed section at the base.

An equally seductive tower house by Andersson-Wise Architects overlooks Lake Travis near Austin, Texas. 

Each of the lower two floors has a bedroom with a dramatic corner window. At the top is a kitchenette and dining terrace where I think every meal must

begin with a toast to Lake Travis (images courtesy Andersson Wise Architects). Arthur Andersson was a design partner of the late Charles Moore, who was one of the architects of Sea Ranch and other modern regionally evocative designs and founder of distinguished firms across the country. Moore’s Quarry Road House,  also in Austin, is a magic cabinet of design ideas in its own right and can be visited by appointment.

At Houseplans.com we have several tower plans, including Plan 64-202,

which includes two bedrooms on the ground floor, kitchen-dining in the middle, and living room at the top. Tower Studio Plan 479-6, by Peter Brachvogel and Stella Carosso, mentioned previously, is shown here included in a larger house.

Using a small tower element to define some aspect of a larger house or compound is a clever idea. It can help define an entry or organize a composition. I have even seen a very elegant modern house that included two towers diagonally opposite each other, designed for an artist and an architect — a sort of Romeo and Juliet approach but with a happy ending. Maybe Rapunzel can find a compatible Prince architect someday.

In the US it’s time to swing into summer.  Loll Designs makes that possible — literally — with an update on the classic rope swing.

This one has a brightly colored seat made from 100 % recycled plastic resin (the material used in plastic milk jugs and detergent bottles) — perhaps something for that big tree in your backyard. Or what about sprucing up the patio or deck with Loll’s new outdoor furniture collection.

Designed by Eric Pfeiffer with Loll, the “Racer” series includes a chair, a rocker, and a table – also in recycled plastic. Loll makes a wide variety of outdoor furniture, including planters, all from recycled plastic.

I like the red rocker and the idea of racing along while staying in one place — perfect for a lazy weekend afternoon. A built-in handle at the top, a storage pocket behind the back – even a bottle opener – add to the furniture’s utility. These are relaxation machines!

Outdoor Ruminations

The late great landscape architect Thomas Church — whose career ran from the late 1920s through the 1970s — was the master of the outdoor room. As a longtime editor for Sunset magazine once told me: “Before Tommy Church, you could walk for miles in a garden and not find a place to sit down.” He helped popularize what we now take for granted: that a garden should be a place to work, play, dine, and entertain — not just observe. His landscapes were true extensions of the indoor rooms adjacent to them so that living areas could flow smoothly across thresholds. And he helped popularize the deck. I recall his work every time I think about where I would add a deck — off our dining room and overlooking the backyard one floor below. But we have space constraints so it would need to be fairly compact; nevertheless here are some iconic Thomas Church features we would need. A built-in sitting area like the splendid abstract zig-zag bench he designed for the Martin beach house  in the 1948: want it!

(This image courtesy Eco Vida International.) Of course our house is somewhat farther from the beach (like about two miles…) I like the way the benches create a room along the walkway, raise the basket-weave deck pattern into the third dimension, and lead your eye to the vista all while allowing you to sit. Maybe we could add a sandbox too! There’s a small tree off our dining room that I’d like to incorporate. Church often did this; for example at the Donnell garden

shown above, also of 1948 (photo courtesy The Cultural landscape Foundation). Building around the trees not only preserves them but also makes them an architectural feature. Church’s seminal book Gardens Are For People, originally published in 1954 and reprinted many times, is full of such ideas and remains relevant today.

But maybe we need to blast open the entire rear facade and create a two story indoor-outdoor space. For this I might look to a Brazilian modern example like the Olga Baeta house in Sao Paolo, of 1957 by Joao Vilanova Artigas.

Here the interior stair complements the exterior one and the room and the garden are a meeting of opposites (photo courtesy Domus.) Well maybe we need to sell a few more plans before this happens. And my wife might have a few other ideas…

The story of our house building adventure (using Long House Plan 508-1 designed by architect Nicholas Lee) continues: we made some key decisions this week. You may remember that we were looking at where to place the water storage tank, and then it turned out we needed a small shed to house the pool equipment and the pump for the well.

Architect Nick Lee and builder Ryan Eames settled on the southwest corner of the lot, adjacent to the well itself, which seemed the most practical and cost-effective location.  I liked the suggestions from Facebook viewer Tobe that we should either bury the tank or use the pool as the storage system. Both excellent ideas — however, we had already purchased a tank that was designed for above- ground use only, and regulations in the area don’t allow using the pool for auxiliary water storage. You can see from the  view below that the tank and shed will dominate the view from the master bedroom and porch.

On the other hand they will help define an outdoor room near the pool. The current thought for the pump house, which will be 10- by 16-feet, is to make it the simplest sort of gabled structure. One idea — not yet agreed upon — is to cover one wall with a metal trellis system, like this one from Greenscreen

Covered with honeysuckle, for example, the shed could provide a leafy backdrop to the pool. I’ll let you know the final decision here.

Other decisions this week focused on the house-long porch or gallery. What about cross bracing for the porch roof, which engineering seemed to require. It might look like this.

That struck me as a little too Western frontier town-ish — like a movie set. Others seemed to agree. If we aimed for greater simplicity, then, what size posts? First thought was to use 4-by-4 steel posts, but they proved too expensive. Then 6-by-6 wood posts seemed appropriate for the scale of the house. However engineering required that there be nineteen posts, set at intervals of 9 feet, like this:

So many posts set quite close together began to make the porch look more like a cage, so after conferring once again with the engineer, architect Nick Lee looked at somewhat beefier 8-by-8 posts, shown below.

The simpler profile with 9 posts instead of 19 seemed much less cluttered. And it turns out that using fewer, though larger, posts is actually the less expensive way to go. That made the decision even easier. As Goldilocks might have said (actually she would have made a pretty good client): this version feels just right!  With regard to the roof we’ll save ca. $8000 by switching from metal to composition shingle. Done. We think we have already saved roughly $30,000 by switching to conventional wood frame construction (for the walls) from a form of structural insulated panels (SIPs). Also, we need to decide the character of  the exterior walls: to batten or not to batten? Stay tuned.