Architects, designers and homeowners go to great lengths to keep the weather out of buildings, a worthy and necessary goal. But the task of creating home exteriors that resist weather’s effects — including washing, sanding, stripping and refinishing — is significant, time consuming and expensive. Rejecting this unending cycle of maintenance and accepting weathering as part of a home’s design aesthetic makes good environmental, economic and design sense. The homes in this video embrace weathering as part of their aesthetic — and even celebrate it.
Design Process - The Plans
The floor plan is probably the most widely recognized sign of an architect's work. To someone unfamiliar with the design process it's appears as simple definitions of rooms in space. To an architect, it represents much more. It's the manifestation of ideas, concepts, and a considered synthesis of many disparate pieces of information: the site, the client, the budget, cultural context, and building traditions to name a few. I thought it would be fun to walk through the design process for a small project I’m just digging into in my studio. It reveals my early design thinking and more importantly how design problem solving works. Here's a short video I recorded that describes the early evolution of the floor plan.
The details of how I arrived at these options are described below.
The Request
We begin with a client’s simple request for a multifunctional recreation and studio space. It must also have a bathroom to support a nearby pool, overflow guest-sleeping space, entertaining space (indoor and outdoor), a kitchenette and the flexibility to convert it into an in-law apartment in future – oh, right - I almost forgot the fireplace. This will be an ancillary structure on an existing property and it must be subservient to the existing architecture of the site and modest in size.
As it turns out, there’s a lot we’re asking of this little structure.
However, this isn’t everything we’ll need to include. What isn’t in the client’s wish list is often just as important. The infrastructure. We’ll need circulation space or walking space to get into and out of and around, storage space, and mechanical space too. These are items I know we’ll need given the things my client has already said – the idea that it will accommodate sleeping means it must be heated and of course that means it needs a heating plant. Walking space and storage must be baked in just to accommodate every day life. This is what architects call ‘The Program’. It’s a list of all of the required spaces.
Larger projects will have extensive program lists, this one is fairly small and manageable. Once the program list is developed, the next step is to assign each space a square footage estimate. The main flexible space will be the dominant element in the plan. I know from my client that the new structure is to appear secondary and play a supporting role on the estate. I also know that it’s to be positioned close to the driveway and pool. At this point I can make some informed guesses at the size of the structure. If I make it too wide it will compete with the existing structures as the wider it gets the taller the roof becomes. If the structure becomes too long – again it begins to compete.
Sizing the Structure
The existing nearby garage is about 44’ long. That's a good reference point to shape the building and I can revise it later if need be so I’ll start there. Many people think that architects have an innate sense for the size a building should be – immediately. While we have a general sense of the size of spaces, garages, living rooms, kitchens, the more important exercise for an architect is determining the scale in relation to the context. A 44’ long structure next to a 24’ long cottage will dominate while a 44’ long structure next to a rambling, highly detailed, 150’ long home will read as an ancillary structure. The context determines the scale.
Usually, my client’s arrive with a notion of what the structure will look like. While this isn’t always appropriate, in this particular case their image was that of a barn. Which, to me, makes perfect sense. Barns are open, multifunctional, flexible, simple, supporting structures. This already satisfies almost every parameter we’re working with.
The Building Site
The one thing we haven’t mentioned yet is the site. The site can be an extremely strong generator of form and layout for my projects. In this case, I have to know a little more about the site than I already do, but because it’s an existing property in a relatively flat area it holds a secondary place in the design process. The existing buildings and adjacencies will dictate where the Barn Studio will be located. The client has sent me their site plan and I’ll make do a cursory site analysis to get started.
Site analysis for a new project on an undeveloped site can be quite extensive. In general all sites will require an understanding of topography, local climate conditions, how the sun moves, and other significant site features (trees, water, neighboring properties) and of course code and zoning restrictions.
For this project, one of the initial priorities is for me is to determine whether or not the site can accommodate an additional dwelling unit. Whenever I'm designing a structure for habitation, zoning regulations will play a role. Many properties are zoned based on an allowable square footage per dwelling unit. This property already has one dwelling unit in place and we’ve determined that a second is allowable. The general principles at work in this phase, beyond the environmental factors (which are easily divined for most sites) are a confirmation of the rules governing construction. Zoning is the key player at this stage – dictating development, height, setbacks, lot coverage and other constraints. Deed restrictions and special restrictions based on the site’s location can be factors in the general design process, but for this one it’s straightforward. We can move on.
Sketching
Now the fun begins. I’ll pick up my favorite lead pencil, my black sign pen, and a sharpie and begin by quickly sketching concepts on tracing paper. I’ll block out plan shapes on the site plan where I can think about access, building size and location. I’ll sketch out my initial impressions along with a three dimensional concept for the building. I like to work at all scales at this point. I’ll think about what the materials might be, what the doors might look like, and very specific nuances of how the building meets the ground and sky. These sketches frame the problem and help me to quickly test and work through ideas without a lot of commitment. The process of sketching for me reveals the latent possibilities of the project.
Design is an iterative process, where I test and re-test, either confirming or repositioning and re-testing all the while building on previous set of decisions.
The Plans
Once I’ve narrowed it to a few strong organizational ideas, I begin blocking out the floor plans, the process is best described in the video.
Client feedback is of course extremely important. Once we get to this stage, I’ve already put a lot of time and thought into the project. Unfortunately, all of this thought isn’t explicit or necessarily visible. By the time I’ve generated floor plans in my CAD (computer aided drafting) program, I’ve internalized, processed and devised a solution to many of the problems presented by the client. Now, it’s my job to communicate that to the client and solicit their feedback. Which will necessitate the next iteration and an evolution of the design.
I'm eager to hear from them about what they liked and what they didn't. This is where the building begins to take on a life of its own - with the client weighing in. To me, it's the best part. We all engage and contribute, fine tuning and pivoting and each step brings the final building more into better focus.
Stay tuned as we move forward with the next steps designing the Barn Studio. If you’d like your very own Barn Studio it's now available for download.
Winter's Exit
The changing of seasons marks the passage of time so plainly. The ever higher, warming sun melts snow during the day, refreezing it each night. Snowbanks retreat from the drive's end. Snow packed hiking trails give way to oozing ice floes. Footprints left in early storms reemerge. Frost-heaved roadways pitch us about on our travels. Roads are posted, "Heavy Loads Limited". The maples give up their sap. Gardens are being planned and seeds started. Nothing escapes the push and pull of this diurnal cycle as we inch closer to the days of summer.
I love this awakening - the transition back to daylight.
Spring also means that the ice huts that dot the hard-water around Mount Desert Island will soon be retreating. I've been watching this particular shack edge closer to shore each day over the past week. That's as sure a sign as any I know - spring is coming. I wasn't born in Maine, so I'm not technically a Mainer, but I've lived here long enough to know what to look for. Watching ice shacks retreat off the lakes is a reliable sign that warmth lies ahead.
These shacks are ad-hoc architecture at its best. Most share the quintessential gabled shape of home, with the occasional, unintentionally modernist, plywood boxes. They're the kind of humble creations that inspires much of my own work here in Maine. Driven by economy and a desire to escape - trading one cabin's fever for another in a cold, dark climate. Supported on skis for transport, they always make use of a salvaged window or two to let in light and sometimes a small stove. I love the idea that a small town can emerge and exist for a few months each year, hovering over a space that remains empty for the other half of the year - a summer space.
It has me thinking of making one. As a folly, an impermanent, portable, winter encampment. I'd love to make one entirely of ice, casting the walls as thick slabs and fabricate the roof as a wooden deck. In the spring it would slowly return to the water, the roof transforming into a swimming platform, the shack's door - a ladder and an anchor.
I'll need some help...any volunteers?
A heavy dose of Dogtrot
Dogtrot [ dog·trot ] - a roofed passage similar to a breezeway; especially : one connecting two parts of a cabin. I'm a bit of a Dogtrot nerd - if that's even possible. I've long admired its simple form and the power of a single, well-proportioned void in an otherwise long, rectangular building. I've studied the building type in depth and offer you here an abridged 'design workshop', if you will. I particularly love knowing the origin story of this humble structure - see if you agree.
The dogtrot is a wonderfully versatile building typology that has endured differing building climates and cultures not only because of its utility, but also because of its simplicity and beauty.
Origins
While it’s hard to pin down the exact origin or antecedent of this building typology in the United States, there’s much evidence that earliest forms of dogtrots came into existence here in the lower Delaware Valley colony of New Sweden in what we now know as New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Delaware. It is believed that Swedish and Finnish settlers of North America in the mid-1600s brought a building typology know as the ‘pair-cottage’, from Northern Europe. These pair-cottages consisted of a pair of log cabins stationed side-by-side and joined with a common grass-covered roof. The Fenno-Swedish settlers were accustomed to working with large timbers and hewing logs for construction and as early settlers of the lower Delaware Valley it made sense that their woodworking skills were put to use in constructing their early homes.
The origin of the early dogtrot’s construction methods as linked log cabins is telling as well. There were two major limiting factors in the construction of log cabins - the first was the length of log that a team of men and livestock could handle. The second was the availability of such raw materials. Selecting logs of a length able to easily be moved into place, especially above one’s head, limited the size logs one could use to build the log structure with and thus the length of the walls. Equally, a log’s taper was a critical factor as the taller log sections yielded more taper. Accounting for these factors during construction ensured the log cabins remained small and one-story.
Once a log structure was completed, adding to it presented difficulty. In stick frame construction of the present day, additions are accomplished simply without much thought and in virtually any location. Lacking any way to modify the supporting walls of the log structures meant the only means of adding to the structure was to build yet a neighboring structure - again subject to all of the previously noted limitations. Building the second cabin only a few feet away would’ve resulted in a useless and dark intervening space. But by separating it a rooms’ width (12 – 16 feet) away it doubled as an additional outdoor, multipurpose room. All of this was accomplished with a simple, singular gesture.
Layout
The dogtrot plan layout is characterized by two equal rectangular shaped, single-story rooms termed ‘pens’; separated by between sixteen and twenty feet connected by a common, usually gabled, roof and a floored breezeway or dogtrot which spans the full depth of the plan. Each of the pens was accessed via a door opening onto the dogtrot separating the structures. The dogtrot behaved as an additional room. The functions of each of the flanking pens were usually different. One was used as private living space and the other as a kitchen and dining or any number of secondary uses: workshop, office, apartment, storage, tavern, or inn.
The intervening space, the dogtrot, served many purposes. Access between either pen and the dogtrot was simple and direct. Some historical examples omitted the floor in the dogtrot breezeway leaving bare earth. This created a covered place to service wagons - a sort of modern day carport. The more common configuration placed the floor coplanar with the interior space. In this way it functioned more like an additional outdoor room - a porch, a place to store farm implements and a place to sit out of the sun. This ensured a social status to the dogtrot as the central gathering point in these early homes.
The dogtrot design is known well in southern building cultures of the United States. It permeated southern pioneer architecture in part because it had offered an ingenious solution to the region’s hot climate. The dogtrot’s breezeway, positioned centrally in the plan, naturally created a cooler pool of air between the warmer interior spaces. This cool pocket of air could easily be drawn into the flanking pens by opening the doors at either end of the gables. In a time before air conditioning, one can see the draw of this passive cooling effect.
Chimneys
Providing heat to the enclosed ‘pens’, one chimney could be found on the gable ends of each structure. Early incarnations were constructed of wood, but proved extremely dangerous. Later versions were more fire-resistant and permanent built of brick and stone.
Porches
Many dogtrots included a porch along an entire eave wall. The porch usually had a shed roof with a lower pitch than the main roof and over time the exterior spaces of these porches were enclosed and apportioned to interior use.
Windows
Symmetrical window configurations were most common, with one or two windows per pen on each eave wall and two windows flanking the chimneys on the gable ends.
Attics
In keeping with the efficient use of space, full adoption of the attic space for both storage and even extra living space was common. This expanded the use of an often extremely compact building footprint.
Additions
The historical record indicates that dogtrots were of two origins. Those that began with one structure added a second and connected the two with the roofed dogtrot. And, those that began by constructing and connecting both pens at once.
Other additions took to enclosing porches, making each pen two rooms deep leaving essentially a foursquare plan, and even separated structures. The separate structure was popular in the south, where the kitchen would be housed in this separate building connected by a covered breezeway. This removed the largest source of heat from the living space and limited losses in the frequently devastating fires.
Construction
In the south, where ventilation and cooling are bigger concerns than insulating, dogtrots were commonly constructed on piers. In the north, fieldstone comprised many a farmer’s foundation because the glacial till was plentiful, required removal from fields used for crops and frost depth had to be taken into account. Stone provided a durable means of stabilizing the building’s support to ground not subject to freezing.
Materials
Log construction formed the basis for early dogtrots; the joint imperfections were filled with clay and twig chinking to keep out the elements. The interiors of these log structures used clapboards and board and batten wood finishes to conceal the roughly hewn logs. The limitations of log length and taper, as discussed earlier, had a substantial impact on the scale of early dogtrots. Equally, the raw materials available locally meant most of the structures utilized the wood from the surrounding forest - notably pine and spruce.
With advent of large scale lumber mills and the mass-produced wire nail in the late 1800’s the raw materials and methods of home construction transitioned away from log construction toward light frame construction which persists today as the most popular form of construction. Stick-frame construction being modular and infinitely flexible changed the construction requirements of additions and renovations. Sticks could easily create additions and loads could be transferred to the foundation by simply joining them together to create headers. Holes could be cut in walls and extensions weren’t limited to the size of logs.
Modern Dogtrot
With the necessity for additions no longer hindered by the dimensions and heft of the log, and social pressure to promote one's status via their home, the dogtrot succumbed to other more stately building types. Today those in the south who grew up knowing the typology often recall the dogtrot fondly, but at the time it was considered to be a very humble shelter. Which is to say, built for the poor. As such these homes didn’t correlate well with wealthy plantation owners and with time it gave way to grander and more sprawling architectural styles found in the south to this day.
As an architect interested in humble structures, I find the dogtrot to be particularly compelling – in its climactic response, its simplicity, its affordability and fort its flexible, integrated indoor/outdoor space. I think it’s why the dogtrot remains a viable and sought after plan for many.
While the climate of the Northeast, where I live and practice, isn't subject to the same stifling heat as the deep south, our winters and shoulder seasons beg for flexible transition zones between indoors and out. The dogtrot layout is the perfect corollary and it addresses this need elegantly. I think of it as an expanded mudroom, a place to store kayaks paddles and kick off your snowshoes under cover of weather. Pair it with a set of sliding screens and it's a screened porch. Add a fireplace and it's a sheltered outdoor dining area. Add benches and it's a living room or sleeping porch, or play space. The very lack of any strict functionality makes it inordinately useful and adaptable. Isn't that what our modern lives demand?
Interested in your own? I've developed a few dogtrots as predesigned plan packages, and more are on the ways - as always you can find them in the shop.
Twists on window trim
Architects often think about projects in terms of systems. It’s one of our strategies for organizing the complexities of construction into a coherent whole. Each system has an order and interfaces with the other building components in a clear way. Windows have a special place in our systems. They help to define site connections, permit or screen views, and modulate natural light entering our spaces. When thinking about how window systems integrate into the larger structure, I like to develop a clear logic that describes how they’re placed in walls, which always requires adopting an attitude toward trim. Trim is a standard vehicle for hiding joints where materials come together — the edges of Sheetrock are a good example. Trim can also set a building in a particular time period.
But to me, the more integrated even a small detail such as trim is with an idea about a place or structure, the more it can support the overall logic of a building. The following projects eschew traditional ideas about trim in service of a bigger, modern idea.
Putting Narrow Windows to Work
Without windows, our architecture would be lifeless, heavy and dark. We use window openings to control light, admit fresh air and connect our interiors to the outside world. Because they control these key components of our built environment, windows are integral to setting the mood of a space. Sliver, or ribbon, windows have a particularly unique way of controlling the way we feel in a space. Used high in a wall, they wash the ceiling with an even light, making a space feel secure yet luminous and introspective. Used low in a wall, they create a dramatic shift in focus, highlighting and reflecting the adjacent ground color, material and weather outside. Used at or just below eye level, sliver windows create a carefully controlled horizontal framed view to the building’s surroundings.
My video discusses how you can put these narrow openings to work in your home.
Playing with Fire (places)
Radiating warmth and light, the hearth as the center of a home endures. And while contemporary thinking about fireplaces has shifted from the essential to the quaint, fireplaces remain appealing architectural devices in a home. Modern fireplaces share a number of common design elements essential for their operation, each of which has size requirements dictated primarily by building code requirements.Abiding by and conforming to these restrictions can have a homogenizing effect on fireplaces, forcing them to look similar in scale and proportion. Fireplaces consist of three primary elements: a hearth, a firebox and a chimney. (Some modern gel-fueled fireplaces don’t even require a chimney.) Other components, including wood storage and mantels, while traditional necessities, are being used in new and exciting ways too. By oversizing or minimizing these three primary elements, you can achieve some brilliant effects.
For the full post and detailed descriptions, see the video below.
Opinions differ on the environmental friendliness of fireplaces used in homes. In some locales, new fireplaces simply aren't permitted any longer. They can be energy drains on a home, no doubt, but taking care to design ways to close off unused flues from living spaces can make a huge difference in heat loss. The compromise solution is to use an efficient, glass fronted wood stove, or fireplace insert. Ch My home is heated with a small Danish wood stove made by Scan, and I love the heat offered. It capably heats our 1600 square feet without trouble. But, heating with wood isn't without drawbacks and the handling of wood is quite simply a chore - especially when March rolls around.
What are your thoughts on fireplaces?
Design Workshop : The Beauty of Humble Materials
Humble materials aren’t costly or luxurious, but using them in residential design doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice interest or refinement. Many architects find inspiration in the humble beauty of simple structures dressed in plain materials that are used honestly. These materials don’t draw attention to themselves or pretend to be something they’re not. They’re chosen to modestly serve their purpose.
Design Workshop : Material Marriages
Some materials just belong together; in this video we look at a few of my favorites. Did I miss any?
Project: Floating Steel Notice Bar
I recently added a simple floating steel notice bar to our entry hallway as a place to tack notes, keep lunch menus and even hang our keys. It's an easy project with lots of potential and once you’ve gathered the materials, it should take only about 10 minutes to complete. Lee Valley sells the magnet cups (along with some beautiful, and hard to resist, tools...) Varying the thickness of the spacers (or washers) will change how far the bar appears to float off of the wall surface - I set mine at 1/2".
Materials:
Wallboard Anchors/Screw Anchors (to receive screw)
Rare earth cup magnets / washers (1” diameter works well)
*Before beginning, a word of caution. Rare earth magnets are strong enough to rearrange data on hard drives and magnetic stripes on credit cards...so use care when playing with them.
Instructions:
Mark your wall surface at the mounting locations for the magnet cups. I spaced the mounts about 3" in from each end of the bar and 4' above the floor.
Drill the holes in the wall surface and insert your anchor to receive the screws.
Place the spacer as shown in the photo against the wall and the magnet cup on top of that with the cup facing outward.
Carefully insert the magnet into the cup being sure to keep it straight. It may leap out of your hands into the cup, it's that strong.
Repeat for additional spacers/cups.
Attach the bar, using your level to shift it into place.
That's all there is to it. I personally like the raw steel look, but the steel could be painted or oxidized for a more finished look. I purchased additional rare earth magnets along with my spacer/cup sets as I find them to hold just about anything (i.e. multiple layers of paper) to the steel. I've also used these cups recessed in door panels to hold pocket doors closed and they make versatile hangers for many different items around the house (kitchen knives, hidden hangers for pictures, if you use steel angle in lieu of the bar you have a small shelf too...etc.) Good luck and cheers...!
Warmboard Radiant Panel - An Architect's Review
In this video I review a new flooring product we've been using - Warmboard. Reasons to Consider Using Warmboard:
- Low mass radiant flooring option - fewer BTUs to get to operating temperature, faster response times
- Highly conductive aluminum face on subfloor - lower boiler temps, lower energy bills, geothermal/solar compatibility
- Fast install times - structural subfloor + heat tubing layout all-in-one
- Aluminum sheet diffuses heat along top surface of subfloor for even heating
- Compatible with multiple flooring types can be overlaid - hardwood, tile + carpet
- Zoning + panel layout design included in the price - assembly arrives with a numbered diagram for installation
- Tubing is visible on top face of subfloor - minimizes tubing penetrations via errant fasteners during floor finish application.
- 20% recycled content in alum. facing, OSB + Plywood panels are efficient use of natural resources
- Warmboard R (retrofit) can be used in renovation projects where floor build-up and thickness is a concern
Modern House Materials + Place Making
Today is one of those rare days here on the coast of Maine where summer bullies the usually refreshing maritime air into the 90’s. The wind has shifted to the southwest. The chickadees are mobbing and the mosquitos swarming. The cat can’t seem to get comfortable beneath his coat. My children head off to camp to whittle, sling arrows, and pond swim. I pass the woodpile and remind myself that I should be cutting and splitting my wood now for the winter which is never far. And keep walking. You know this feeling, or something similar, something familiar. You pause a moment from your busy life to observe and realize - this is summer. Or to think -the screen door slamming shut means warm nights. This is the definition of place for me, the emotional intersection of smells, sounds, temperature, everything surrounding you.
PLACE
When designing a home one of the critical components in the initial conceptual thought process is always to define place. Determine what it is that makes a place different and unique. Whether it's the forces that shaped the land, the geology, or the climate. What cues can you learn from the local architecture? How do people build and with what materials? Do the buildings sit lightly upon the land or are they rooted in the land? What are the natural site rhythms and weather patterns?
If you’ve lived anywhere for a period of time you probably know these things intuitively - the things that comprise place. They can be very subjective and they should be - that's good. You may not even realize what a local expert you are. Where I live on Mount Desert Island, in Maine there are a myriad of things to that inform my thoughts about place. The rounded glacial till and sharp black spruce tips, the colored grids of stacked lobster traps on lawns in winter, weathered fishing shacks and barnacled piers. This is a damp place, almost everything is covered in moss and lichen - green drapes gray and always the silver sea. Prevailing winds from the water twist and sculpt the pine boughs.
Local buildings are typically clad in one of two materials: cedar shingles or wood clapboards. Wood is abundant and inexpensive. Our native cedar is naturally decay and rot resistant and weathers to a silvery gray without finish or maintenance. The salt air corrodes and sticks to everything and the wind is ever present.
Are you forming an image of what this place is like?
WHY IS PLACE IMPORTANT?
Understanding this is key to design thinking and an important part of what distinguishes a work of architecture from a structure. Linking buildings to their surroundings and place makes them more meaningful and responsive to the forces surrounding them. What's truly wonderful about this is that this thinking is accessible to anyone of any means and any budget. It costs nothing extra to be sensitive to these things, to think like this, to define place and act based on your perceptions. By linking your home to your place in your time you’ve effectively said, “These are things about this place that I think are important and noteworthy.”
For example, shaping your home’s roof in a way that allows light in while protecting against the winter winds and shedding snow does this in a very simple and meaningful way. Working with the local topography, in an around trees and geology does this. Using local materials and a color palette drawn from the local flora imbues your project with deeper meaning. Through these simple gestures, your home can tell the story of the place you’ve chosen to build. What’s more, I would argue that your home will actually function better.
DESIGNING PLACE
I'll close with an example of a home I designed as one possible way of approaching design with respect to place. The overall design concept for this home was one of integration. Integrate views to the water, views to the forest, integrate sunlight into the deepest rooms and integrate the sloping local topography. I created three shed roof forms, one for the garage and workshop, one for the bedrooms and private spaces (the two story volume) and one for the public living areas. The shed roof forms were drawn from local shingled sheds used for storing fishing gear.
While developing the shapes of the structures and their engagement with the land and each other, there were additional subtleties that informed the overall approach I took with the design concurrently. Probably the one most illustrative of place making was the selection of materials.
MATERIALS
Most people, save for architects and builders, have trouble interpreting a floor plan. Lines drawn on paper usually have little corollary to a typical person's experience of a home. This gulf between the real and imagined is because spaces are difficult to represent in two dimensions and floor plans often lack color or indication of real materials. Two houses with the same floor plan can be rendered quite differently by modifying only the materials used. So how can you infuse the meaning of place via material selection?
Typically, I look to the site to conceive of an exterior and interior material palette. I find this substantially reinforces ties to a particular place and it's a simple shortcut you can utilize too. For this project, I started with simple image I had taken of a fallen cedar in a local pond. Note the contrasts I talked about above (here it's grays and browns) and the muted color range. This particular site had a number of oak trees present, which lined the forest floor with leaves - like tiny rust-toned scales.
By simply applying an overlay of this image on the actual building forms I created a set of basic rules for the use of color and material.
1 - Exterior: tough, raw, textured. The bark of the tree.
2 - Interior: warm and inviting. The warm browns + heartwood of the tree. Bark peeled back to expose the warm interior.
3- Accents: smooth, scaly textured. These would link the warm interior with the rough exterior. The fallen oak leaves.
4- Changes in elevation: marked by stone walls extending out into the landscape, linking and mediating steps inside and out.
THE RESULT
The tough, bark-like exterior rendered in the textured stained shingles is peeled back and cut away to reveal the warm wood interior. The interior is comprised of two types of wood which again mimics the variety of coloration inside the photo of the log, not one brown, but many (not too many!). Copper shingles are abstracted oak leaves in color and form.
The copper weaves its way throughout the house, but is used in very specific ways, to enclose the more solid parts of the house, on all flat roof volumes and it mediates the intersection of the house and earth (as flashing). The stone walls define changes in site elevation both inside and out and add another contrasting gray to the material palette.
As you become aware of the thought process that led to the design outcome, the meaning behind it should reinforce a sense of this place and the home's connection to that place.
Hopefully this information allows it to transcend any emotional response you have to the images (like or dislike) and the narrative should make it more alive. It certainly does for me and it makes the design process and selection of materials systematized and aligned with the greater design goals of the project.
Even without knowing the backstory, I believe, the building feels innately a part of the site and right at home. More images of this project can be found in my portfolio.
House Size - Balancing Wants, Needs and Budget
This post is the second in a series intended to walk you through the process of designing your own home where I guide you from the initial stages of your building project through construction. Please check out my about page and my portfolio for more about what qualifies me to do this. So, here we are at step two (if you missed step one, be sure to read and watch that section first). You've determined your building site and diagrammed the assets and liabilities, now it's time to figure out exactly what you'll be trying to fit within your home. Architect’s call this second phase the ‘programming’ phase. The ‘program’ is a detailed list of all of the spaces you’ll include in your home along with their sizes. Think of it as a sort of ingredient list in a recipe you’re following.
A couple of things to keep in mind while developing your wish-list. First, every square foot will cost you between $250-350+, choose carefully. Secondly, and more importantly each added square foot is another one you'll have to heat, cool, light, maintain, and clean (!) for many years to come. Homes use an incredible amount of energy and here in the USA our homes are substantially larger than our European counterparts. Be ruthless about what you really need and what you can live without. By consuming fewer resources your self-less act gives to generations that follow us.
Program Ingredients
A good place to start is by compiling a wish list of rooms. Basically anything that will take up space in the home should be on the list. While you’ve probably already considered many of the spaces listed below, there are undoubtedly some you haven’t accounted for. Most often people overlook essential spaces like stairs, hallways, mechanical rooms and electrical closets. These are critical to every successful floor plan, however mundane they may be, and they also account for a large percentage of the actual floor area, and by extension, your budget too. Be sure not leave these out.
Some common spaces you’ll want to consider:
- Entry/Mudroom
- Living
- Dining
- Kitchen/Pantry
- Study
- Powder-1/2 Bath
- Bathroom(s)
- Laundry
- Bedrooms
- Porches
- Decks
- Mechanical/Electrical
- Circulation (stairs/hallways)
- Garage
- Carport
- Outdoor Terraces
- Media Room
- Game Room
- Screened Room
Size Matters
Or should I say, matters of size? Once you've compiled the list, you'll need to assign each room a rough size. A good place to begin thinking about the sizing of these spaces is to measure your current living spaces. You'll have a sense for the scale of your furniture in those spaces and what works and what doesn't. If your current bedroom is too small, roughly estimate the extra room it would take to make it more functional and account for that in your spreadsheet.
My worksheet lists basic room areas and sizes, but really it’s a guideline to help you get started. Try not to take this too seriously to begin with. It usually makes sense to stay in the general range of the room sizes I list but if your design vision calls for a living room in the shape of a bowling alley by all means, bend the rules. Make the rules and then break the rules. Develop a set of operating principles and consciously break them for effect. Architect’s do this all of the time, when you do this with intent you’re one of us.
It’s important that along with the development of room sizes that you keep in mind ceiling heights. Not exact ceiling heights, but a more generalized idea of which spaces might be taller than a standard 8’ ceiling. You’ll note in the worksheet there’s a column labeled ‘factor’. Ceiling heights are one thing that affects the factor; it’s essentially a multiplier that accounts for the extra materials (sheetrock, framing, paint, etc.) you’ll require when building a non-standard room volume (1.5 for cathedral/vaulted ceilings). Some of the other factors listed account for unfinished basement spaces (0.1 because it’s significantly less costly than heated living space), as well as covered porches (0.75) and decks (0.5). Landscape elements aren’t covered here but be sure to include terraces and other hard-scape elements in your program so you can allow for them in your budget.
What's Important?
When thinking about the size of spaces in relation to each other and the overall square footage try to think about them hierarchically. Each should be relative in size to their importance in the floor plan.
Nothing says hierarchy like, “Check out our roof…we put a giant hole in it to show you how important it is for controlling light, for letting in the things we want and keeping out the things we don’t.”
A mudroom larger than a living room has certain connotations and functional implications. The Romans were masters at spatial hierarchy. Have a look at the Pantheon.
The large central space, flanked by smaller alcoves, with its’ oculus (the penultimate hierarchical move). Nothing says hierarchy like, “Check out our roof…we put a giant hole in it to show you how important it is for controlling light, for letting in the things we want and keeping out the things we don’t.”
This is powerful and it’s really a marvelous space to stand in. Look at the entry portico, and note the size of it. It’s not wart-sized; it’s proportioned to the volume it’s attached to. Now, have a look at your local convenience store entry (a gabled portico of sorts I’m guessing) and you’ll see the difference. The convenience store is poorly proportioned, it’s too small and it’s too tall and it looks like the rest of the walls it’s adjacent to, except for the two doors. While this example is intentionally simple I think it illustrates my point, which is once you’ve seen the difference, you’ll better appreciate the difference.
The Pantheon, with just a few simple elements and architectural moves allows one to understand immediately upon arrival how one enters and what’s important. This is the approach you must take when thinking about sizing your spaces. You’ll have a chance to revise this as you begin your design when you realize that the dining room should be a little larger and the pantry a little smaller, etc. Many architects rely too heavily on the exact sizing of the spaces in the Program. I try not to get too hung up on the size of the living room before I get into the design a little deeper. I prefer to use it as an outline.
Sticker Shock
Develop the list of spaces, assign them rough sizes, total it up and, most importantly, assign a square foot (SF) price range to the total. This is where the exercise becomes particularly meaningful and dare I say, painful. At the beginning stages of the design process your program serves as an essential budgeting tool.
I recommend assigning a price range for two reasons:
1) Early on before you even have a design; this is by far the most accurate means of portraying the variability of the costs involved. Having a range will hold you accountable as you work toward getting the upper number of the range to be your target number. I’ll explain more below.
2) No two contractors will look at your design, drawings and specifications the same way, even when given the exact same information. Equally, building techniques vary from contractor to contractor as do subcontracts and labor rates.
Having said all of this, I want you to look at the upper end of the range and know that that number is real. Don’t make the mistake of assuming you can make material or finish decisions (bamboo flooring, plywood walls, cheap toilet fixtures…) and have any real effect on the overall scope and scale of this number.
Way too expensive?
Building costs are always rising. The addition you worked on 5 years ago, from a pricing perspective, is irrelevant. To be serious about controlling costs at this stage is to eliminate square footage. This will be the easiest and best opportunity you have to do so. Work backwards if need be, determine the maximum you’re willing to spend and fit the program sizes to meet the budget. This part of the process can be bruising. Expect it and work through it. Every client, of every means, that I've ever worked with at this stage agrees to move forward based on the false hope that the actual numbers from the contractor will come back at the lower end of the range. Believe me, Scout’s honor, it’s never happened. Not one time. If you take this part of the process seriously then the bidding and/or negotiation phase will be much, much easier.
"What Square Foot Price Do I Use?"
If you’re not sure what range to use, make a few phone calls to local builders or architects in your area. They’re usually more than accommodating when it comes to giving out such basic information, and they have the benefit of recent projects to back up their knowledge base. In my local area, the range I tell people wanting to do custom work is $300-400/SF. It’s possible to be around $200/SF, however, it requires special concessions not many people are willing to make.
Once you've worked through this process: revising your wish list, revising your budget and you’re comfortable with what you have, you’re ready for the next step. Get out your markers, pencils and tracing paper, Schematic Design is up next. Possibly my favorite…
Questions...Comments?
Drop me a line, I'm here to help. I’d love to hear your thoughts or design conundrums.
If you subscribe you’ll be sure to receive my next post in your inbox, there’s also my YouTube channel with helpful videos. I’ll also post some links to a few books that will help you through the programming phase and provide some inspiration as to what’s possible when you economize and double up on the functions of your spaces.
Cairns...and way-finding
Hiking is an obsession for me, an integral part of my life. And, despite my best efforts to integrate it into my children's lives my pleas for Saturday afternoon family hikes are usually met with groans of protest. Someday perhaps they'll recognize the same deeper connection to the land that I've found so satisfying through hiking too.
Living near Acadia National Park allows me access to challenging and uber-scenic hiking locations. If you've never visited Acadia, the bulk of the park is located just past the mid-coast area of Maine on Mount Desert Island. The island is a glacier worn grouping of granite domes perched at the edge of the Atlantic ocean. Here the raw granite meets the sea and is cloaked by spruce forest, fog and salty air. People carve out their lives here by understanding and exploiting these natural resources and the people who come to visit. Artists, fisherman, scientists, cooks, potters, boat builders, we're all here charting out our lives often against, but more often in concert with nature.
The Bates Cairn
Aside from the physical activity and mental awareness hiking brings me, one of the things I find most rewarding about hiking is a deeper understanding of the world around me. I'm fascinated with the intersection of man's machine and nature. These are often forces which drive my architectural work, integrating buildings into their surrounding context, marveling at their weathering with time. This metaphorical tug-of-war is present everywhere, including the trails of Acadia.
If you've ever hiked above the treeline on a large mountain, you're familiar with cairns. Rock piles crafted by man to mark trails and pathways. They're necessary in locations subject to poor visibility and can mean the difference between a cold night spent on the mountain or a warm night off of it. If you hike a lot, like me, you may reach a point where they're like trees...they're a part of the landscape and you pay little attention to them.
I can't count the times I've walked between these simple landmarks, thinking of them as nothing more than markers along a path, but so often relying on them to return me to less foggy elevations. While reading a favorite column of mine in the Bangor Daily News called, 1-Minute Hike, I was surprised to hear reference to these markers as Bates Cairns. Designed by Waldron Bates in the early 1900s as unique trail markers. Each cairn is comprised of two support posts and one lintel spanning the posts capped by a pointer rock paralleling the trail. It's precisely Laugier's primitive hut and I think it's simply genius. The open topography and granite precipices here can be visually flat in poor weather and fog. It's easy to lose your way, but the degree to which these constructions stand out is remarkable. The simple act of creating a shadow beneath the lintel helps identify these as path points. And, their geometry is distinct and separate from a standard conical cairn. Which, in this landscape, would only work to camouflage them among myriad other rock formations.
Because of the efforts of Waldron Bates, I'm not only a thankful patron of all of the path making he accomplished during his lifetime but also a little more appreciative of his weather beaten constructs.
New Trails
This week marks the first full week of me bootstrapping my own, newly minted, design firm. The past seven days have been an emotional ride. Having to leave a place that provided me with many opportunities, fulfilling work, professional mentoring and some really good friends was a very difficult thing for me. Traveling new trails is difficult work but it's often the most rewarding. You're not sure of the destination, how long it will take to arrive, or if there's even a somewhere to go. Way finding has suddenly become a much more crucial activity for me and I'm searching in earnest for the next cairn.
An Architect's Design Process
I've recorded a two-part video describing in more detail the process of siting my own home, a modern longhouse. This expands on some of the concepts presented in my previous video post and supports it with a real world example.
Part I
Part II
There are a couple of important points that I didn't get to in the video. First, the idea of a modern longhouse was a derivative of the site, it wasn't a preconceived strategy. However, having used this plan I can see merits on many different types of sites, it's a versatile and economical plan to construct. But, back to the idea behind the longhouse concept. The swath of fallen birches, the proximity of neighbors, the solar aspect and the surrounding forest suggested a longer house to exploit the variety of textures surrounding us. We adopted the idea of a longhouse for three reasons: one because it was an historical archetype of Native Americans that settled here long before we did. Two, because the idea of the longhouse suggested a simple (and affordable) way to unite a family under one roof, the original longhouses housed up to 20 families under one roof. And, three because it suggested more broad site connections to the swath of fallen birches we were clearing away to make our home.
As I said in the video, I'll be using our longhouse as a teaching tool in future videos and posts...stay tuned. If you haven't looked over the portfolio images yet they're located here. Please leave a comment below or feel free to contact me at eric@thirtybyforty.com with any questions.
Siting Your Home - An Architect's Tutorial
There's a lot of 'ground' to cover when talking about choosing the ideal location to place your home and given just how individual each site is it would make for a very long video. So, I've outlined my process in more detail here to help guide you from purchase point to design concept. I'd love to hear from you, let me know if this helped in any way and as always you can send your questions to eric@thirtybyforty.com
YOUR SITE
This is where it all begins. More often than not, the site is a strong generator of building form and orientation, as well as material and color for my buildings, so this step is a critical one. The site is the genius loci for your project, wine makers call it terroir and understand that the site is the key to the ultimate flavor of wine. The site is really important to me and it should be to you too. It can be the raw land you’ve purchased, an empty building lot in a subdivision, the street on which you bought a row house, or even the floor of a warehouse you purchased.
Sites vary widely in their scale and reach but they all share some basic characteristics. The site will have topography, it will have utilities and if it’s remote enough and doesn’t have utilities then you’ll need to plan how you’ll get things like power, phone, cable, water supply and how you’ll address things like sewage disposal. Sites will all have access points and boundaries. Depending on your particular situation it may have streams, forest, a significant tree, an orchard, lawn, a glacial erratic, wetlands, a lake or pond, even other structures and roadways.
More broadly, your site exists within a cultural context and a set of local building traditions. If you’ve lived near your site for a long time, you’re probably aware of these. If you’re new to the area observe your surroundings, read a little about the history of your area. I always take clues from industrial or agrarian structures, which derive maximum benefit from minimal expenditure. These structures plainly exhibit local know-how because their limited budgets require it. Their choice of materials reflect local building norms and practice and while many may be in a state of disrepair, look more deeply for the origins of these selections.
DOCUMENT EVERYTHING
It’s important to document as much of this information as you can, within reason. I begin by walking the site without anything in my hands. This allows me to focus on important site features (and avoid tripping) without distraction. I make mental notes of things that stand out, where the sun is, where the wind is coming from, views, sounds. If the site is urban, this will entail walking the neighborhood, think of your site as everything within a 5-10 minute stroll. If possible, visit the site at different times of the day, and at least once in the morning and once in the evening. You’ll come away from these site walks knowing a lot more about the site and surrounding area than you had before. Take photographs from a variety of vantage points. This records the site pre-intervention and serves as a nostalgic record (think before-after photos). Additionally, your building permit process or design review board may require them and you’ll reference them at various times during design as a source of inspiration. Document all of this in a sketchbook, on your tablet, with a voice recorder, whatever way you choose. I usually quickly sketch my impressions in a diagram, which is my way of visually hardwiring this information. I find it easier to recall when I have to generate it by hand.
If your site has varied topography, sits on a hillside, near a stream or if it will be subject to stringent review by a design review or zoning board, you’ll probably need a survey. There are basic surveys and there are boundary surveys. The type you will require will depend on your specific situation, but more often than not you’ll only require a basic survey. A boundary survey will be required when your deed doesn’t specifically outline the property lines or if there is some questionable division of your lot. This isn’t a normal situation, but if you purchase this type of lot it will require deed research by a law clerk to determine historical land transfers, which, isn’t cheap.
If you do require a survey, contact a local professional land surveyor and ask how much a basic survey would cost. Local surveyors are a great resource to tap and meeting one on your site can provide insights into lot history, neighbors, contractors and potential pitfalls regarding the local permitting process. Be sure to pick their brains, their local knowledge is often invaluable.
TIP: if you’re looking to save money have the surveyor provide you with 2’ contour only in and around the area you’re considering building. You can walk the site together and with some surveyor’s flagging map out an area together. They can help you determine other site features you may have overlooked and decide whether you’ll need to locate them on the plan or not.
SURVEY BASICS
Reference Point
Property Lines
Other Structures
Flood Elevation
Driveways
Utilities
Contour/Topography
Significant Trees
Other Significant Features
Setbacks
REFERENCE POINT
Always have your surveyor set an elevation benchmark or reference point. This is usually in the form of a nail set with orange flagging somewhere on site and tied back to their plan and noted as E.R.P. (Elevation Reference Point).
PROPERTY LINES
Have them locate the property lines per your deed.
OTHER STRUCTURES
Sheds, nearby houses, garages, barns, silos.
FLOOD ELEVATION
If you’ll be living in a flood plan, you’ll need this for insurance and the bank will require it for loans.
DRIVEWAYS
Existing, other access points.
UTILITIES
Power (overhead/buried), propane tanks, gas lines, cable, water, sewer.
CONTOUR
In surveyor-speak, this refers to the exact elevation and slope of the land. Contour lines on a map connect points of similar elevation. These lines are set at a specific interval depending on the scale of the map. Many topographic navigation maps use a 20’ interval, with each line representing a 20’ difference in elevation from the adjacent line. The closer the lines are together on the map, the steeper the site is and conversely, the farther apart the more flat the site is. For your purposes, a 2’ interval should be sufficient. If you’re very concerned with how closely your building will adhere to your site contour you may wish to have a 1’ interval mapped, but this will be twice as expensive as the 2’ option.
SIGNIFICANT TREES
If preserving trees are important to you, have him pick up the trees within that zone that are greater than 16” in diameter.
OTHER SIGNIFICANT FEATURES
Water bodies, fencing, stone walls, etc.
SETBACKS
If there are setbacks from waterlines, wetlands, easements or restricted areas ask them to locate those on the plan as well. Always request a CAD file and PDF of their work. This will help save on survey costs, which can add up quickly. Survey costs in Maine as of publication date range between $3500-5000 for a basic survey around a building site with 2’ contours indicated, tied to the National Geodetic Vertical Datum (NGVD).
TIP: Google Earth is a great tool to see your site in context at a variety of scales. You may even find historical views and maps of your site as a layer within Google Earth. Print out the most current view of your site and use it to document your findings, it’s a great way to conduct a no-cost site analysis and see your site from a different perspective.
A few other items to consider at this stage:
1) Deed: secure a copy of your deed if you haven’t already and review it to be sure there are no restrictions listed that would prevent you from doing what you’re proposing. Pay particular attention to easements (number of structures allowed, utilities, view, access, etc.). You’re legally bound to this document even if the town doesn’t have jurisdiction to enforce it.
2) Septic system: if your site doesn’t have access to a municipal sewer system you’ll need to hire a soils scientist to design a subsurface wastewater disposal system. Basically a septic system.
3) Power: contact your local utility to verify the process and more importantly, the timeline, for getting power to your site. If it’s far from the grid expect to pay between $10-$20 per foot to construct overhead primary power line. Buried power line, as you’d expect, is more expensive and depends on site conditions (bedrock, streams, etc.)
DIAGRAM
Once you’ve compiled as much of the information above, add it to your SITE file folder. You'll use all of this information to diagram the site. It need not be particularly good looking or graceful, it only needs to be useful. This synthesis of information usually quite quickly highlights areas of the site to be developed and suggests areas to explore. It may even result in design concepts. The diagram at left led me to a design concept for the house which I proposed for this site based on the idea of a camera lens. The gradation of light and view along with the existing site textures set in motion a particular thought process that led to this and other concepts for this property. My video describes a more fluid way of looking at all of these technicalities together but in the end, the goal is to get to a diagram that clearly describes the limitations of the site which at the same time graphically represents the possibilities of the site.
As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts and questions about your site, please feel free to contact me. Please subscribe to my YouTube channel if you'd like to keep up with future workshops.
3 Keys to Working With Your Contractor
Renovating, constructing or remodeling your home is always a stressful time. You’re hemorrhaging money, there’s a seemingly endless volley of questions, and you may be living in amongst dust and debris, doing dishes in the bathroom sink. Early on, you absorb these inconveniences as part of the process but as deadlines come and go, It’s easy to let yourself project your frustrations on to the one entity who is responsible for you things not being complete. Unfortunately, as an Architect, I’ve seen much good will sour between Owner and Contractor during the final weeks of a project when stress levels are greatest. If you take the time up front to follow a few basic rules you can trade stress and anxiety for confidence knowing that things are organized and running smoothly. Honestly, you owe it to yourself considering the staggering amount of money you’ll be investing in your home. You really should enjoy it as much as you possibly can.
So many outcomes in life are the result of good communication, let’s start there…
1) Open Communication
From the outset of your project clearly define and discuss your expectations for communication. Set up a pre-construction meeting, preferably at the building site. Use this time to hand off the final drawing set and specifications, you do have drawings and specifications right? Setup a meeting schedule and discuss your preferred immediate contact method: email, twitter, cell? Try to stress that this be reserved for only the most immediate of questions, ones that would hold up progress if they weren’t answered immediately. You don’t want to be a stumbling block, but equally you can’t be expected to answer the hundreds of potential questions that could arise in day’s work. On projects where I’m observing the construction process I schedule a weekly meeting which I usually request to be on Wednesdays. This allows the Contractor time to mobilize on Monday; work through issues on Tuesday and by Wednesday there’s typically a backlog of questions to be answered. I expect to get sporadic questions throughout the week that are simple to answer and may allow work to progress with minimal time disruption on my part or the Contractor’s, but calls every half hour I strongly discourage. Establishing this workflow early on enables everyone to be more efficient in accomplishing his or her tasks.
Insist that all communication to and from subcontractors go through the General Contractor, and remember, you must abide by this rule as well. It’s easy to have a casual conversation with a subcontractor, but never allow this to be confused with supervision or direction. That is the sole responsibility of the Contractor; it’s not a role you should assume as this often results in costly additions to the project. This reinforces accountability on the Contractor’s part and ensures nothing gets lost in translation between you and someone on a subcontractor’s crew who has no authority to make decisions or may not understand the financial underpinnings of your project.
2) Well defined, clear expectations
The easiest way to be sure your Contractor is delivering what YOU want and equally what HE thought YOU wanted (and ultimately priced), is to have a set of drawings, schedules and specs. This doesn’t have to mean spending tens of thousands on an architect, although I think that’s a good investment too and, by the way, one that you can finance inside of your mortgage. It does mean that you spend more time up front thinking about all aspects of your projects. Because I know what a daunting part of the process this can be I’ve developed a checklist to help you. There’s more than you might initially think. It’s often the reason people feel so overwhelmed during construction, they haven’t ever considered the quantity of materials that go into making a house. Grout color, cabinet hardware, door knobs, hinges, glass type, paint, flooring, fasteners, insulation, roofing, siding, these are just a few of things to think about. Remember that your vision of your home has evolved over time, in your headspace, and it’s nearly impossible for your Contractor to completely understand what you were thinking unless it’s translated somehow onto paper. That’s the easiest way of letting them know exactly what you want.
Plans. This is where most people start and finish when thinking about building a new home. “What does the plan look like?” We’ve all looked at plans before, but have you ever looked at plan and then walked through a house built from that plan? It’s quite a different experience right? Plans, diagrams really, monochromatic lines on paper abstractly representing walls, cabinetry, doors, windows, and plumbing fixtures. While the floor plan remains the most accessible of all drawings there’s so much more to constructing a house than merely drawing and fine-tuning a floor plan. Think of a floor plan as your rhythm section, it sets the beat and establishes order. But without a lead guitar, rhythm guitar, a bass…what do you have? The supporting instruments are all of the other documents that describe how the house will look. You’re probably familiar with elevations too, which are the flattened views of the exterior walls. There are undoubtedly parts of your living environment that you don’t even notice…take like lights for example you need lights, right, but there’s a huge difference between your vision of the hand-blown Italian glass pendant you’ve always wanted and the recessed can lights your Contractor was thinking you’d want. Look around you and know that your Contractor will do this with every item in your home. He’ll choose one thing to price and install and if it’s not expressly called out you won’t any recourse but to say, “Thanks…I think?”
This applies to plumbing fixtures, flooring, and hardware for your doors, every surface, counters, and appliances, even fasteners. What’s great is that all of these things fit neatly into their own categories in the specifications. Contractors are trained to look for them and read specifications. If you hand your Contractor a set of drawings, schedules and specifications, you’ll set yourself apart immediately as an informed consumer. This nets better pricing, fewer conflicts and a better final product, because it’s directly translates your ideas into something your Contractor can easily understand, price and construct. You’ll sleep better too.
Your specifications or schedules don’t have to be extremely detailed; they can even be as simple as a one-page list. But, if you don’t have any you risk a huge gulf between your vision (nice finishes, fine detailing, good windows) and your Contractor’s vision (which will be based solely on economy).
3) Minimize changes
It’s human nature to tweak, revise, rethink, re-imagine and change your mind. I totally support this, (within reason), I actually encourage it especially during the early design phases. It’s liberating to let go of preconceptions, old ideas, and embrace fresh thoughts this is the dreaming phase. When your ideas still only exist on paper the cost to move walls, add baths, make a room 2’ wider is far lower than during construction. Here again, this supports the case for having a set of drawings and schedules and specifications. You can clearly see how the furniture in your new living room might fit (and here's the key) before the foundation is cast and walls are constructed. Undoubtedly you'll arrive after the framing is in place and say to yourself, "Wow, this space is different (insert larger/smaller) than I thought it would be..." This experience inevitably leads to thoughts of redesigning, enlarging, and retooling. Try to resist this urge. The scale of buildings changes throughout construction and it's all based on points of reference. When the foundation has been poured you'll be left thinking you've made a tiny house, no matter the size. This is because you're comparing it to larger context of the surrounding site, whether it's other structures, forest, or a sweeping mountain view. After the house is framed, often times rooms look larger than you imagined. After the house has been sheet-rocked you'll again face this shift in scale...too small. If you react at each one of these points your new home will now look renovated, your pockets will be empty and your Contractor will probably have another boat. Changes along the way always cost more.
One more important thing to recognize about changes during construction is that the true cost can often be elusive when the pressure of budgets and construction schedules are in play. The siding change you made to 'save' money may actually cost you more in the end after the restocking fee (because it was already ordered) and the added labor to install the less expensive siding is factored in. There are so many variables that go into the building of a house that it's often hard for a Contractor to quantify how cost shifting is to be accounted for in the budget. The net result? Nine times out of ten, it's easier for the Contractor to recalculate and levy an up-charge for the simple reason that its costing them more time and effort to re-calibrate the process already set in motion.
Be confident in your design decisions as you follow construction, rely on the planning decisions you made early in the process and most of all...enjoy the process, most of us only build a home once.
Video Review: Decking
A follow-up to my previous post on wood decking. Remember, try and source local materials (within 500 miles) whenever possible. These products tend to consume fewer resources (less fossil fuels to transport), they support local economies and they're generally better suited to your local climate. A quick call to your local lumberyard should net you current pricing on each of these options. In my experience a ranked list from most affordable to most expensive would look like this:
- P/Treated Southern Yellow Pine
- Eastern White STK
- Atlantic White Cedar
- Douglas Fir
- Western Red Cedar
- Port Orford
- Redwood
- Tropical Hardwoods - Ipe, Mahogany, Teak...
Check out Wood, Steel + Glas' site for more information on Atlantic White Cedar, they're a great resource and happily send samples. As always, I'd love to hear from you with your comments or questions.
Material Review : Wood Decking
DESIGN
Most of my projects utilize decks as transition elements between the inside finished floor of the house and the ground level surrounding the house. While I try to keep the floor as close to the adjacent grade and topography I usually aim for about 1'-0" +/- and depending on the slope of the site in places it may be 1'-6" or more. Keeping close to the 1'-0" dimension at transition elements allows for a 4" step down to the deck surface and an ~8" step to grade from the deck, which could also utilize a stone step element or other site feature to bridge the gap. This offset to finished floor from grade also allows for drainage around the house and ensures snow build-up doesn't become a problem. One thing to keep in mind when planning your transition deck elements is to try to keep the top of the deck surface within 30" of the adjacent topography. Anything higher than this will require a 42" high guardrail or wall by code (and for safety!)
As transition elements, decks can engage the site in a way the house can't. If they're freestanding and not connected to the house (which I recommend whenever possible) they can be set at almost any height without the same concerns one has with setting the building floor too low. Keeping decks as separate elements has the added benefit of not puncturing holes in the siding or foundation or all the worry of flashing details.
Generally, I prefer to keep decks as simple as possible: regular, rectangular forms, no chamfered corners or multi-level every-trick-in-the-bag affairs. Regularized, rectangular forms accommodate seating groups well and they make economical use of framing materials. The key to integrating your deck into the architecture of your home is to reference the interior and exterior spaces with the geometry of the deck. Try to wrap these elements around a building corner which engages the architecture and feels deliberate.
Try to connect interior and exterior floor planes with decks, generally large glazed exterior walls are natural locations to connect interior and exterior spaces. My advice with any design element is to make the gesture large, singular and with purpose. Note how the Pond House deck is a long singular gesture, almost wharf-like. It follows the geometry of the house, wraps the corner and connects the interior and exterior spaces. It transitions from land to water and while it's more than 30" above the adjacent topography the cable rail guard virtually disappears.
MATERIALS
There general categories of natural wood decking are: Pressure treated lumber, Cedars + Redwood, and Tropical Hardwoods. Let's start with the most common of all decking materials...
Pressure treated wood
PT, the colloquial term, is made from Southern Yellow Pine and is soaked in chemicals under pressure to preserve it, this lends a green tint to the fresh wood, which over time weathers to a muddy brown. The chemical formulations used to treat wood have changed over time as manufacturers discover which ones are carcinogens and choose a new 'greener' formula. Beyond the toxic nature of the preservatives in PT wood, pine is generally considererd dimensionally unstable and is prone to warping and cracking...doesn't sound great if it's a surface you or your children will walk on with bare feet, right? Many people choose PT wood because it's inexpensive and readily available in all of the big box stores, but I would urge you, if you're able, to steer away from this as an option even if it means making your deck smaller and use one of the following materials.
Cedars + Redwood
wood decking various types
These woods are naturally rot and decay resistant, their resins and tannins protect them even without finish and they weather to a soft, silvery gray if left untreated (which I recommend). These woods have the added benefit of being easy to cut and fasten, they're lightweight and they look very tailored. Because they're softwoods they will dent and scratch with time but equally they're soft underfoot. Typically these woods are graded by appearance, clearer grades being more expensive. Buy the best grade you can afford, and each lumberyard has different terminology related to each grade. Do be afraid to ask and look at their stock, they're there to help. A vertical grain board will be more dimensionally stable and look better than a plainsawn board. The Western Red Cedar Association has an excellent guide to selecting cedar for decking, you can find it here.
Here at 30X40 Design Workshop I try to use local products whenever possible. Local is generally accepted to mean any location within 500 miles, which ensures that the product has low embodied energy (the total energy cost associated with getting the product to market) and doesn't negate the 'green' aspect of choosing a natural product in the first place. The local products I have access to are Eastern White Cedar STK 1x6 decking and Atlantic White Cedar decking. The Eastern White Cedars are known for being knotty but the STK grade assures you receive only small tight knots. This also limits the board lengths to about 8', which is totally workable with both 16" + 24" framing modules that you'll be fastening the decking to. I've used Western Red Cedar and Port Orford Cedar in quite a few projects and while neither material is local, I still prefer them to pressure treated. If you request FSC certified wood you can be assured you'll receive wood that was sustainably harvested.
Another softwood that bears mentioning is Douglas Fir. It will typically be less expensive than Western Red, Port Orford, and the Atlantic White, but with similar characteristics. Fir doesn't have the same rot resistance as the cedars, but it looks great and if you're able to finish it with a penetrating oil sealer it will last. It has the added benefit of being slightly harder than redwood and cedar. Use this if you've used fir in other areas of your project, it can help tie things together.
Tropical Hardwoods
These woods are even more durable and rot resistant than the Cedars + Redwoods. However, they have two downsides that I would consider fairly substantial. First, harvesting practices of tropical hardwoods are extremely variable and, because they often come from developing nations, are often environmentally devastating. The embodied energy of these materials is subsequently very high, traveling from rainforest by truck > rail > port > port > rail > truck > lumberyard, not to mention the carbon sink you remove from clearing rainforest. Secondly, because the materials are so dense they're difficult to work with, they dull tools and require pre-drilling of holes prior to fastening. There are too may species to mention by name, but you've probably heard of some of the most popular, Mahogany, Teak, and the very popular Ipe (say: ee-pay) or Ironwood. True to its name Ipe is solid, strong and looks beautiful. It weathers to a soft gray and can be brought back to its original color by lightly power-washing. Again, I've used this material on projects (Pond House above) and can attest to its durability, strength and beauty, but it comes at a cost...both environmental and financial. Request FSC certified if your conscience suggests it and while you'll pay more for the chain of custody certification you'll know while sipping your G&T on your deck that you didn't clear cut a developing nation to make it possible.
Size/Thickness
Most decking I use is 5/4x6 (the actual dimensions are 1"x5 1/2", as they surface the boards removing 1/4" of total thickness and 1/2" of width). Not all projects call for this size, but generally wider boards=lower labor costs to install and fewer fasteners. Each material can be sourced in differing widths or even set on their sides down to about 2" in width. With the softwoods you won't want to go less than 5/4 thickness as the material can feel spongy underfoot...remember it's a softwood. The 4" wide boards can look very boat-like and tailored sI have a soft spot for that look.
Fasteners
I prefer stainless steel screws. They hold well, they don't require pre drilling (on most woods), they allow you to pull boards for replacement at any time and I think they look great. Choose your head pattern...personally, I prefer the square drive but many contractors don't like how easy the screws can strip. Star drive heads don't look as nice but they install quite easily and the added torque resistance keeps them from stripping. Many of the tropical hardwoods will require pre drilling with a countersink bit to keep the head below the surface level. Some contractors swear by ring shank stainless steel nails...those work too, good holding power, but around softwoods think about flying hammers and dented wood. Not my favorite...and the drive depth can vary which can mean you're feeling the nail heads under foot.
Finishing
Don't. Seriously, let the wood weather naturally...you have other things to maintain don't you? Choose a wood that silvers and resists rot and decay and you'll be able to relax and enjoy your deck rather than washing, sanding, and sealing. If you like tedious work or want to preserve the color of your new wood, choose a penetrating oil rather than a film forming protective coating. Penetrating oils mimic the natural oils in products like cedar and help keep it from warping and cracking while letting the wood breathe and dry after wetting. Beware, this is an ongoing chore and if you neglect it you'll work even harder to get the new wood look back.
What about plastic decking?
Esthetically, if you care at all how your deck looks or you want to brag about what good taste you have...please don't use plastic decking. I always argue for the natural over the synthetic and this is a case where some of the materials in these products (like PVC) are harmful to people and the environment. They may outlast you and require very little maintenance, but in my opinion they're truly a strange beast. They imitate everything about the natural product you'll wish you'd bought, wood graining, coloration, and size. Save the plastic for your drain pipes.
Do you have a favorite material I've left out? I'd love to hear from you...meanwhile, I'm planning to post a price comparison for some of the products I specify regularly.
Material Review : Limestone
Resources for my limestone tile review
As promised, a few of the sources I mentioned in the video...
Stone Source - browse their extensive archive online and call them to requests a small sample(s)...if you need help, drop me a line. I used Bateig Azul, which is a soft gray, with fine veining.
Stonetech Bulletproof - You must seal limestone, do this immediately after you lay it and before you grout it. The Bulletproof name says it all...use liberally, it will keep the stone in top shape.
Important Points
1) Samples: free samples are a must when comparing your material palette to the sample. Limestones range in color from gold/yellows to blue/grays to green/grays to white/grays. Each limestone can vary in fossilized creature content and veining, this is why samples are critical.
2) Buy gauged stone: which is basically stone sawn to a regularized thickness. This makes tile setting easier and ensures the surface prep you worked so hard on translates to a level finished surface.
3) Finish: honed is what you're looking for, soft and subtle. Bush-hammered (I mention 'flamed' in the video, but the better term is bush-hammered) is a rough face, use this carefully as accents in light-duty exposures.
"Limestone is porous and can easily be etched by acidic liquids."
4) Seal: limestone is porous and can easily be etched by acidic liquids (and lots of liquids are acidic...), take the time to seal your honed surfaces properly at regular intervals.
I posted on my Longhouse blog a ways back the process of installing my limestone in my bathrooms. You can find that here. As always, if you have questions or comments I'd love to hear from you.