San Luis Valley

I recently returned from a windy and dust-caked trip to the San Luis Valley.  Inspired by a book by writer and photographer Robert Adams, The Architecture and Art of Early Hispanic Colorado, written in 1974, I drove through the small towns and even smaller hamlets in the southern San Luis Valley taking pictures, quaking in the sand-filled winds and feeling a rush for architecture and place that I have been sorely missing.

I have lots of photos, mainly of the variety and typologies of small chapels, including the remarkable roofless chapel in Las Mesitas.  Over the next couple of weeks I hope to do a little more research and post some of the images and some thoughts about this oldest of vernacular architecture in Colorado.

By the way, if you don't know how flat and relentless the central valley can be:

(I don't recommend this photo technique as you drive as you can't see at all where you're going.  Mind you, not a lot of traffic out there.)

what a house should be - part four - it should be fun

Architecture is serious business.  Not only because architect's take themselves painfully serious, but because for folks who choose to go down the path of designing and building a custom house, it is probably the most money they will ever spend.  Tends to be a bit sobering.

A house is the daily landscape of your life.  You wake up to the walls and ceilings, floors and doors, that are your house.  You go to sleep under the stars, but under that ceiling as well.  Your house ought to be fun.  I don't mean funhouse fun, although that can be done.  I mean that as much as we often endeavor to create a house that is a safe refuge in the world, it should also be a place of joy.  We don't have a lot of tools in our belts to pull this off as architects - the sun streaming in a window, the smell of blooming trees wafting through a kitchen, the solid satisfaction of a door closing.

A house can be whimsical.  We have all seen those crazy structures, hobbled together by some singular, driven, local wacko made of license plates or aluminum cans or auto tires.  But that ephemeral whimsy can be made of simpler stuff - a series of little ledges that hold glistening snow or scuppers that cascade the occasional shower.

A house made of only those things would be tiresome in short.  But without these little moments, designed lightly, a house is not much more than a big motel room without even the magnificently awful painting over the bed.

what your house should be - part three - it should be beautiful

This may seem obvious, but often people think they have to compromise between function and beauty.  They do not.  Any architect should be able to design a project that lives comfortable in that slippery neighborhood of "beautiful".  It may be that this is hopefully subjective, but many aspects of a kind of architectural aesthetics are not so elusive.

For most folks, the beauty of a building is what it looks like.  For most architects it is also what the building is.  Part of what makes a building beautiful is that it makes sense - the building is something, not simply an assembly of windows and doors, roofs and foundations.  For Modernist architects, the exterior of the building should reflect the uses of the interior - a kind of truthful transparency.  For more traditional architects, the exterior facades of the building don't necessarily have anything to do with the interior function, but they should be artfully composed.  In all cases, a kind of thoughtfulness comes through.  We may not all like a given building, but any well-designed building should be able to be appreciated as such.

Your house should be beautiful.  Maybe not cover-of-magazine spectacular, but it should be what architects call "resolved".  The proportions of  door and window openings should relate to each other, the masses of the building should work together, the trim and casing should reinforce the proportions of the openings.  This is not to say that every window or door is the same size.  That kind of consistency is boring and frankly lazy.  But every house ought to have been on hard enough and long enough to bring the design to a place where the building is something, not a pastiche of different styles or a thoughtless amalgam of parts. None of this is limited by budget.  Ever.  These things are the basics that every architect should be able to bring to bear on a project.  If they can't or aren't for some reason, find another.

Sunshine Canyon A-frames

I am working on a remodel and addition to an odd A-frame hybrid house at the base of Sunshine Canyon, just west of Boulder.  The original house, built in 1964, was designed by architect Richard Brown.  Brown designed a number of these modified A-frame houses, mostly around Boulder, before he later took that form and proceeded to design churches.

After a little research, I found an article in the Sunday Denver Post from May 10th, 1964, that shows another of these houses.  The article goes on to talk about the number of steeply-sloping building sites that were being constructed on in Boulder.  In an interesting and prescient harbinger of a kind of critical regionalism, the article, written by Ellen Bull, goes on to say,

"...in nine cases out of ten, Boulder house designers actually are determined by the terrain."

"among the assets which builders and architects emphasize are the many days of sunshine, both summer and winter, the mountain views, and the fact that the mountains are close enough to use and enjoy."

"As each builder or architect finds the answers to these questions, in his own individual way, he develops a building not quite like any other anywhere.  The very difficulties he faces stimulate his imagination and ingenuity."

Well said.  In 1964.  It is a shame more of the subsequent building in and around Boulder did not heed that advice as we have more than our share of suburban McMansion boxes awkwardly grafted onto steep mountain sites.

(window mullions reflecting the shape of the pine trees beyond)

Our work will be removing some of the interesting features of the house, but as the whole house is in such bad shape, we will see what can be saved and what we can echo in the new construction.

what a house should be - part two - it should be affordable

Every project has a budget.  Whether it is a grand country house or a humble pop-top, the cost of the construction will always be stressed.  It should be. In the design process, there are loads of options that are considered and balanced.  But there is nothing quite so focused as the discipline brought to a project by an initial cost meeting with a contractor's exhaustive bid that is over budget.  But there is also usually no way for an architect to truly gauge the deep-seated priorities of a client until each of those priorities have a price tag.  A beautiful greenhouse is fantastic, but is it $50K fantastic?

It is extremely rare; rainbow-spotted unicorn-rare, that a client's budget exceeds their expectations.

There are a number of ways of establishing a budget and the realistic expectations to which it is linked:

An architect can do a cost estimate and design within that estimate.  Architect's are notoriously bad at this if they do it at all.  We want to please, we want to think we can fit 20 gallons in a ten-gallon hat.  The architect's budget can be based on a basic cost/square foot or can be more sophisticated breaking down the building into constituent parts and assigning differing costs to each.  The architect should do this before they sketch the first line or soon thereafter.  And at every phase of the project, the architect should update that cost estimate as more specificity is brought to bear on the project.

A builder can do a cost estimate. Homeowners can bring a builder on at the start of a project and the builder and architect can work hand-in-hand to simultaneously design the project and verify costs.  Many builders like this idea because they don't have to take the risk of competitively bidding a project.  However, most contractors are not very good at putting increasingly specific numbers to the rather vague initial sketches of an architect.  Very often builders say they need a complete set of drawings to work up an accurate price.  If that is the case then we might as well bid the project.  A contractor brought on during design should have enough experience and data from past projects to be able to make fair assumptions of cost.  Like the architect's estimate, the builder's budget will get increasing specific and hopefully more accurate as the design progresses.  No excuses for saying "we didn't have enough information" or "the architect added a bunch of stuff that wasn't in the early sketches".

An owner can do a cost estimate.  The quality of this estimate will vary greatly depending on the sources of info as well as the sophistication of the person assembling it.  Most dubious are the cost/sf numbers listed on the internet for new construction.  That information was free and probably not reflective of the region or date or style or ...  The owners budget is more like a vague idea of how important something on a project is to them.  Not absolutely everything in the dreams of the owner and architect will end up in the project.  The owner needs to know what is important to them and why and be able to communicate that to the team.

The best answer is:  all of the above.  The relationship between owner, architect and builder is best carried forth if everyone does their part to keep a discipline on the budget.  For an architect that means not adding in expensive details or assemblies without discussing them with all parties and knowing what everything on the job costs in relative terms.  For a builder that is not selling a client on an all-too-rosy scenario of an unrealistic budget to get a project only to have the reality of costs slam down at a later date.  For an owner, clearly communicating their desires as to materials and details early in the process is the best way to insure that costly change orders don't uncomfortably arrive during construction.

The building of a custom house is an exciting and thrilling prospect.  But there are too many stories of cost overruns and bottomless monetary pits.  Every project has a budget and every budget will be stressed.  If everyone does their part honestly and with diligence, that stress won't break the project.  "Affordable" is relative, different on every project, but we all ought to know it when we see it.