Recently we have found ourselves working on projects that are explicitly designed for aging in place. These are houses with single-floor plans, adaptable kitchens, and a load of other simple, functional solutions to allow folks to stay in their houses as long as possible.
I recently made a trip back to New Haven and visited my grad school haunt, the Yale Art and Architecture building. To say that it is a remarkable building does not do justice to its monumental and cruel presence. Siting on the edge of Yale's collegiate gothic campus, the stark Brutalist hulk has a severe monumentality that perfectly reflects the role of architecture and architects at its 1963 completion.
I recently spent a long weekend in New Haven, Connecticut, the town of my grad school and a place I have not visited in more than twenty years. I can happily confirm what so many folks have told me - that New Haven is a dramatically nicer and safer place than it was when I was at Yale in the early 1990s.
I have posted in the past about a sense of atmosphere that is embedded within a room. For architects, we are engaged in making the imagined world into the real world. The imagined world may exist in the models, drawings and in the mind of the architect, but at the end of the construction process, we interact with the physical qualities of a structure, not just its representations
I've written a number of times about mining buildings in Colorado and their remarkable presence in the landscape. Most of those buildings were located around the Central City/Blackhawk area of Gilpin County. On a recent trip to Cripple Creek and Victor I was able to see an incredible number of remarkable structures, abandoned relics of a heady time.