Design Matters

House for the 80's Ages Up

2012-03-15T15:02:00.000-05:00

"I’m excited! I just ran across this article today as I was looking to see if I could find the original article from Woman’s Day magazine. We built this house thirty years ago in 1983. Although I could not find my copy of Woman’s Day that my husband had stolen from the lobby in the hospital, I still have my copy of Mechanix Illustrated: Home Improvements Number 11 with the same article."

Saskatchewan Home Owner

Those of you who have followed Architect Chris Fye's design path these many years will, I am sure, take almost as much delight in this story as we did. The quote above is the opening statement of a letter emailed to us at our designmatters.cfa@gmail.com address. It references an issue of "Design Matters" she'd found when she googled "House for the 80's". Design Matters is also the title of the electronic newsletter we send out every month that talked about this house and our desires to re-design it for the 21st Century. (the newsletter can land in your inbox too - email me at designmatters.cfa@gmail.com!)

Thirty years ago, Chris’s award-winning “House for the 80’s” was built in Columbus, Indiana and published in, the March 1982 edition of Woman’s Day magazine (a competition for University of Illinois architecture students sponsored by the magazine).

A few posts back (yep, just scroll through previous posts and you’ll find the post entitled "You Say You Want An Evolution?), I wrote about our strong desire to capture and record all of the many houses built from this simple, yet endearing, house plan. It continues to amaze us how often we hear from those who were smitten by that house when it starred as the cover photo of the magazine.

Just a couple weeks ago, we received the lovely email from a couple in Saskatchewan, Canada, along with photos of the house they built themselves 30 years ago. It’s a long letter, full of affection for the house in the telling of the tale of its construction and subsequent remodeling(s). It appears, as we hoped, that the House of the 80’s ages well.

"I still love my house. My husband, Glenn, and I were young, dreaming of owning a house, when we saw this one. We were 24 years old and had a two year old child and nothing in our bank account, but we wrote away for the plans ($11.00 for a set of three!) and kept them “just in case”. We had been looking at older houses because we wanted something with character. An opportunity came up to purchase a lot (with an old house to be demolished) in the neighborhood he had grown up in. He loved his old neighborhood, and the school where he had gone was one block away. Before we knew it, we had the lot, and we were digging the basement in April 1983. A week later, we were informed there was another baby on the way. The house would be completed before the baby!"

Imagine how these houses must have changed over the years - with the passing of time and trends and changes of ownership. Don't you agree that it's "book-worthy"?

"The years have flown by since that time, and we continue to love our home. The basement has been completed with two extra bedrooms and a bathroom with a shower. The yard has been landscaped – and landscaped – and will continue to be a work in progress. We have redone carpets, repainted walls several times, and updated baseboards and the fireplace surround. The boys have left home, and we turned their upstairs bedroom into our entertainment room."

The former "kids room"

I’m still on the mission – to track down, photograph and document each and every one of the houses built from the roughly 10,000 plans (!) sold by Woman’s Day to folks looking to build small, energy-efficient and sustainable homes.

"Please enjoy the pictures. I have also included several of a birdhouse a friend had made for us many years ago. He appreciated the uniqueness of our house."

the birdhouse

So, kind readers, please forward this to everyone you know and ask them to do the same. We all know the internet is key to global-scale communications; going viral will certainly help me figure out how to start this noble quest! Thanks, and enjoy!

"Please feel free to contact me at any time. I would love to see what others have done over the years with this truly remarkable ‘little house’ plan."

So would we, Vicki & Glen in Saskatchewan, blessings to you!

Lessons Learned

2012-01-04T16:45:00.001-06:00

So, I had the “pleasure” of spending the last two months mostly, well, sitting. Having been in a pretty rough car accident at November’s beginning, I spent the remainder of November and all of December recovering from some pretty painful injuries. I must say that spending that much time “doing nothing” was quite a challenge for me, at least once the worst pain was over and my brain started functioning somewhat normally again.

What a challenge it is to “sit”. As one who practices yoga and meditation, I am very aware of the extreme difficulty of just “sitting” with the practice, allowing the mind to become still and the body and spirit to benefit from that stillness. One of the reasons that I understand so completely the hard work of just “being” is that in my real life I am anything but still. I am the quintessential multi-tasker, having taken on many, many roles and challenges over the last three or four decades in addition to working and parenting three (now adult) children. I am not one to spend time in front of the television or dvd player (though I do love theatre and movies). I am not one who chooses to sit in the shade in the summer or indoors in these cold winters, but rather opts for gardening, walking, cross-country skiing, riding a bike or sailing under the changing skies of our Midwest climate. And while I love to read, it’s one of those things that gets done, mostly, in the early morning with my coffee or late at night, just before I drift off to sleep. Sitting is not my thing.

Suffice to say, I have learned some grace and earned some wisdom in these two months of stillness and healing.

Lesson One: I own no chair, sofa or cushion that really, truly, is comfortable for the long haul. Can’t decide it that’s a design flaw issue or a flaw in my choice of furniture. I suspect it's a little of both. And you know, those cultures who choose not to use furniture but rely on their own bodies for resting, might just be on to something.

Lesson Two: Goodness exists everywhere. I was continually astonished at the well wishes, the prayers, the food and fellowship that came from seemingly everywhere in my community. It was humbling to say the least, and gratifying as well.

Lesson Three: My family is amazing. Let me repeat that: MY FAMILY IS AMAZING. Husband and kids, sibs, in-laws, what a bunch of kind, caring supportive troopers.

"primary food" the gift of orchids

Lesson Four: There is no substitute for good friends. You know, the ones who show up at the hospital, the ones who tend to your sorry self when you are anything but gracious and kind. The ones who feed you, not just edibles, but also real, true soul food, or as my educators at the Institute for Integrative Nutrition define it, “primary food”. I cannot imagine life without the nourishment of the wonderful women and men who Iove me, and I them.

Lesson Five: I rage frequently about the state of our nation’s health care system but I gotta tell ya, I’ve had great care from skilled medical professionals, even if I’m wincing at the bills coming in. And I am certainly learning the value of Physical Therapy!

Lesson Six: I have learned on a very physical level, that my yoga practice is key to my health. I’ve long appreciated what yoga does for me mentally, but I know that my ability to deal with my injuries, and my subsequent healing, was greatly improved by the body strength and mental strength that existed prior to the accident.

Lesson Seven: BMW’s are tough vehicles – I’m convinced my 525 saved my life twice. That car was a beauty and a dream to drive, but it’ll no longer take swiftly to any road. So sad that my relationship with my favorite car ever had to end in this most unfitting way.

being held captive at the county yard. . . .sigh

Lesson Eight: The body is a miraculous thing. Amazing how healing happens, how the body mends itself – OK, I admit I gave it time, attention and some minimal medication – but truly, the design of this miraculous hulk of bone, tissue, organs, blood, fluids is incomparable to anything we humans might contrive. Humans, indeed, create the possibility for improving on the body and for fixing what ails it, but let’s face it, there’s some power out there a whole lot greater than all of us that came up with this amazing design.

‘nuff said.

Namaste ~

Super Heroes

2011-09-14T11:17:00.000-05:00

In the architecture office we’ve joked over the years that we specialize in “challenging projects”. And it’s true. While many firms differentiate themselves by designing only schools, or museums, churches, or fast food restaurants, we’ve chosen to remain multi-disciplinary. It could well be argued that this has hurt the firm over time – not getting a contract to design a local church, for instance, or to assist the local school districts in work we are especially good at, i.e., analyzing problems and designing solutions – simply because the firm doesn’t specialize in that field, does rip a chunk out of our collective heart each time. It feels like failure, especially when the end result for that project we didn’t get is unattractive, doesn’t serve its occupants or community well, or is otherwise not up to par – the standards we’ve set for our own work over time are very high.

But, being a firm that “does everything” has its advantages. We are proud that we’ve been able to save some historic buildings and restore them to their earlier glory. We’re pleased that we’ve been a part of some wonderful community architecture projects – from large community centers to small pocket parks. And, it’s been a true joy to be able to effect positive change in the living environments of people living in poverty or with a disability.

We know how to solve the problems presented to us by our clients and their buildings. In the nearly 25 years we’ve been in business we’ve seen it all – crumbling foundations and wonky(now there’s an architectural term for you!) floor structures, buildings left uninhabitable from years of neglect and abuse, “re-muddled” historic buildings and storefronts, residential additions that detract rather than add to the value of a home. We’ve made churches, offices, schools and retail settings accessible, we’ve brought countless buildings up to code, and we’ve added light, air and space to so many buildings it’s hard to even remember them all. We’ve enhanced public facilities, like parks and historic attractions, we’ve created wonderful living spaces for seniors and playspaces for children, and re-designed interiors to improve functionality as well as aesthetics. And along the way, we’ve designed some beautiful new homes and commercial buildings too – a completely different, yet just as satisfying, form of problem-solving through design.

One of the buildings we're working on "saving"!

And throughout all of it – the triage, the forensic study, the drawings, the construction, and yes, the frequent heartache and stress – we’ve come to realize that we are architects and planners, by trade and by talent, but we are in fact, “saviors” – we have found solutions to complicated, difficult building problems, and through effective communication, collaboration and thoughtful design, have saved buildings, rescued distressed owners, and delighted individuals and communities.

Yeah, we’re kinda super-heroes.

Designing for Community

2011-09-12T14:48:00.000-05:00

Oh my, it’s three months since I’ve written. Amazing how time flies, especially in the summer, and especially when we take on huge projects and a multitude of tasks. Such has been the case for me since early June. With the waning of summer, I find myself wondering where on earth the time has gone and must realize that the answer likes squarely with my inability to say “Thank you, no.” I’ve taken on too much, I realize, and yet now that I’m in the thick of these efforts, I am unable to leave, unwilling to walk away from commitments to good community work.

One of the efforts I’m working on has to do with community visioning and planning. Designing, if you will, a new future for this community I’ve called home for the better part of my adult life. This small city, once a bastion of wealth, beautiful homes and a thriving business community, has suffered for several decades now from a lack of foresight, a lack of looking ahead to the future, thinking through possible scenarios, planning for what could occur and what we might be. Life is, to paraphrase John Lennon, what’s happened to us while we weren’t busy making other plans.

And it shows. Our downtown commercial district is tired – too many empty storefronts, too little investment over time in capital improvements, precious little youthful energy and talent stepping up to take the reigns in retail/restaurant/entertainment venues.

Too many of our beautiful homes and neighborhoods, boasting grand Queen Annes, Italianates, Four-Squares, Federals, Greek Revivals, Bungalows and 20^th Century Moderns, suffer from deferred maintenance and the disrespect that comes from a lack of responsible ownership and pride.

Much of the wealth has drained away – siphoned off by multi-nationals who’ve left us, taking with them their investments in worthwhile causes like United Way along with their executives and their spouses who spent their disposable incomes on things like ballet classes for their kids and support for the schools, the arts, and recreation. Collective wealth has been reduced by years of dis-investment in new business and industry and the employment they offer, all the while we were somehow unable to see it all coming, to plan ahead, to take some risks and invest.

It’s not too late. Over the course of this summer, hundreds of citizens have come together to begin anew. We’ve drafted a new vision, and are setting a new course for this community. It has been at turns, exhilarating, exhausting, puzzling, challenging, joyful, luscious, and collaborative. There’s been a noticeable lack of mean-spiritedness, and an amazing amount of gratitude and positive thinking. We, many of us, realize this just might be our last chance to design the community in ways that feed us – all of us – for many years to come. Feeds our souls, our bodies, and our spirits, and fills our pocketbooks and our government and community coffers too.

As a process designer and facilitator, this feels like a shining example of Margaret Mead’s famous quote:

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world.

Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”

It’s a small group that started this process we’ve entitled "Prospering Together" but it grows every day with good folks coming together to listen, learn, grow, and craft a new future for our hometowns.

It is a truism: Design is everywhere and means everything to how we live, everyday. Design is tactile, visual, yes. But design is also invisible, impactful in ways we are often unaware. This particular design promises a lot; the end results are up to us – use the design to prosper, or ignore it at our peril.

Musings on old and new

2011-06-02T16:13:00.000-05:00

Everything old is new again, part uno.

Design and technology, like art and fashion, tend to be cyclical. In fashion, hemlines go up and down, lapels get narrow or wide, as ties broaden or shrink. Art leans towards excruciatingly modern as it leans away from realism or cubism. Design and technology seem like they are always on the upward swing, signifying constant change, always fresh and new and, well, hip.

And we hipsters, well, we like to think we keep up. How unlikely it is that we do was brought home to me this week in two very different ways.

My cell phone died an inglorious death over the weekend. A slow, agonizing death as it lay, unbeknownst to me, all night long in a shallow pool of water resulting from the bouquet of flowers I’d bought as a gift for my dancer daughter’s last performance at Lawrence University. We’ve all had lots of cell phones (and with luck have donated our old ones to our local domestic violence program or recycled properly). But this phone I had grown to love – it was quite literally, a workhorse – and though it was ancient in cell phone time after over four years of hard use, I still loved it for its simplicity and its faithfulness to me. It always worked, despite my sometimes less than caring attitude towards it.

Of course, I’ve been eyeing the shiny new smart phones, the ‘droids, thinking how “connected”, how “efficient” I could be with a new phone in my pocket. I loved this phone and its death saddened me. But, oh joy! When I took it to the dealer, it was revived with just a simple battery change. That, and the advice to “store it in some rice to dry it out.” WHAT??!! How old school is that?! I recall my mother advising rice kernels in salt shakers to stave off annoying salt-caking from our Midwest summer swelter. Ancient technology! Dutifully, I placed the phone in a Ziploc bag with rice . . .

OK, maybe it requires more than an overnight session . . . I’m still waiting for the screen to look as clear as it once did. I’m gonna give it another go tonight to see if old technology can complete the resurrection of a thoroughly modern device! It struck me as odd that in this most advanced areas of technology, we still rely on the “old wives” methods to fix things.

Everything old is new again, part dos.

Thanks to the demise of our much loved hot tub, this spring we added on a new deck. The old deck had been built around the hot tub many, many moons ago requiring the old tub to be hoisted out, leaving just a big square hole surrounded by decking boards. Ugly.

The Architect Dad, Son (on the left) and
"Other Sons"

A few weeks back, our college student son and his friends worked with Dad to build the new deck, and we love it.

It brings a whole new perspective to the back garden and added space for entertaining. It also posed a dilemma – what to do with the space where once the table and chairs sat?

The view of the new deck from the upper deck
off the master bedroom

So, I’ve had my eyes opened once again to the beauty of “modern” design – this being the "butterfly chair" designed originally in 1938 (!) by Jorge Ferrari-Hardoy, also known as the BKF and the Hardoy chair.

I.Love.This.Chair!

For the past several years my architectural leanings have become decidedly modern, as I swoon over long, linear modern homes with wide open spaces, south-facing glass walls, gleaming stainless steel, aluminum, concrete, ceramic finishes and no clutter whatsoever. This chair, resting dormant in my design memory somewhere, was awakened when I read a post from one of my favorite architectural bloggers.

Can't you just see those butterfly chairs
in this empty space?!

Yes! Everything old IS new again! I’m saving my pennies now (catch the money-sucking reference to college-age children?!) so I can grace my deck with two (four?!) of these elegant, hip, and I suspect, comfortable! butterfly chairs.

Perhaps you’ll join me for a sunset cocktail?

You Say You Want an Evolution?

2011-05-10T12:34:00.000-05:00

A House for the 80’s

(1980’s, that is!)

Now why, you might ask, would I want to write about a house design from thirty years ago?! Damn fine question, and I have a damn fine answer.

Back in 1980-81, when my architect hubbie was still a struggling architecture student at the University of Illinois-Urbana, Woman’s Day Magazine sponsored a design competition – a House for the 80’s – for UI students, and, you guessed it, Chris won the competition. Many months later, the house was built in beautiful Columbus, Indiana – home to buildings by many famous architects like Eliel and Eero Saarinen, Cesar Peli, I.M. Pei and others.

The Cover

Touted on the magazine’s cover as a “Small House with Lovely Living Space”, the house Chris designed aimed to draw in an abundance of natural light and capitalize on solar gain with its broad southern exposure, open floor plan, simple layout and multi-use rooms. His use of ceramic tile flooring and the masonry mass of the huge fireplace and chimney served to capture and hold the sun’s heat so that it could provide comforting warmth with less reliance on fossil fuels.

That house design was the most popular plan ever published by Woman’s Day at the time of its release in March, 1982, having sold more copies than any other plan they had ever printed in the magazine. I don’t know if anything has surpassed it, and don’t remember the exact number of plans sold, but I do recall the number 10,000-plus being tossed around. It was 30 years ago, after all, and try as I might, my brain doesn’t retain bits of data as I might wish it would. I do recall, quite clearly, the early autumn weekend we spent at the newly-built house in Columbus with the magazine’s staff of writers, photographers, interior designers and stagers, as they captured in photographs every nook and cranny, inside and out, for publishing in the spring. We felt very fortunate indeed to be a part of that event and enjoyed every glamorous moment! The photo below was scanned from the original magazine.

A bearded young Chris Fye
with some of the crew

We’ve been thinking a lot about that house lately, for a few reasons. The first is that we still – yes, even as recently as last week – receive emails out of the blue from people who bought the set of plans all those many years ago, and have held onto them until they could build their “dream house”. Or from folks who are getting ready to construct and have a design question or a tweak they’re interested in. Or, some who lost the plans or never got them ordered and hope that we can send a copy (we can – we, of course, retained a set!). Throughout the nation as well as in areas like Baffin Island and Nova Scotia in Canada, the simple design of Chris’s House of the 80’s just really resonated with people – it bespeaks home and hearth more than many house plans, and certainly more so than the “McMansions” popular in the last decade or so.

Chris explaining his model

From the editor's column

The second reason the House for the 80’s is on our minds is the resurgence of “green” thinking – of looking for ways to reduce our carbon footprint, reduce our use of fossil fuels, and reduce our cost of living as fuel prices continue to rise. We’ve been tossing around ideas about how we would design that house today. While much would remain the same, some changes are inevitable after thirty years of practice and design leadership, and other changes are possible now thanks to improvements in materials and technology advances.

This small house focused on “livability” and on quality, something akin to Sarah Susanka’s Not So Big House movement, quite a while before Ms. Susanka broke on the residential architecture scene. Were we to design a “House for the Early 21^st Century” it would still be on the smallish side, with attention to detail, quality craftsmanship and a thoughtful focus on how people actually live in their homes.

The kitchen with "herb garden bay window"
above sink

The massive "heat sink" chimney

And third, we want to launch an effort to research all of those houses built from that popular set of plans sold by Woman’s Day. It would be fascinating to see how people adapted the plans to meet their needs or their climate, and how the houses have “evolved” over time as families grew or shrank, and ownership changed. What an interesting story each home could tell, and each family would have as they built the house, made it home, and then, perhaps, moved on or remodeled to suit emerging needs.

Right now, we're researching how to begin the process of doing the work – finding the houses that were built, traveling to those towns, documenting, and finally, publishing a monograph to lovingly depict the evolution of the House for the 80’s. If you have ideas, let us know!

The House for the 80's photographed in 1981

A private deck for the master suite

The House for the 80's photographed in early 1990's
the color's changed and a second stall was added to the garage

The Human Family

2011-03-22T15:31:00.000-05:00

So much tragedy in our world today. Between earthquakes and tsunamis, unrest and demonstrations, economic disasters and unemployment, our human race seems under attack from all sides. I am mindful that we are all one family – the human family – and it is up to us to take care of each other, even if that just means sending cash donations. Even if that means being one of the first responders, or traveling to those places to serve those who most need assistance. Even if it is as simple and powerful as keeping those who are suffering in our prayers and meditations. Most everyone of us has much to be thankful for. Most everyone has the ability to give back. Many of us never do, or rarely do. Here’s a little story about one of the guys in our office and his way of serving – by helping to build community in Haiti.

Ten years ago, the Carroll County Haiti Mission Project launched its first trip to the beautiful but struggling nation of Haiti. A non-profit organization, the CCHMP was started by Mt. Carroll, Illinois resident Bill Timm, a man in search of a mission. Timm first learned about the needs of the Haitian people from a Haitian native, now a U.S. Citizen employed by American Airlines. Via the Internet, he was able to connect with her and the legacy of caring, commitment, and contribution began. Three times every year the CCHMP embarks on another trip to Juampas (pronounced Wum-pah), a small village about 35 miles up a steep mountain road from the capital city of Port au Prince.

Tom Sorg, (2nd from right in the photo) also of Mount Carroll, IL spent many years as a master craftsman, building custom cabinetry for homes and businesses. No stranger to construction sites, methods and materials, Tom is now an AutoCAD expert and has been producing high quality construction documents for cf+a since 2006. He first joined the CCHMP effort about eight years ago and has since traveled to Juampas seven times, returning from his most recent trip just a couple of weeks ago. What drew him first to the project was curiosity, yearning to understand other cultures, and a desire to help. What keeps him going back again and again is the beautiful people of

Haiti

and the amazing lives they lead, despite their poverty and isolation.

Over the years, the CCHMP has focused most heavily on the building of a clinic for the village which previously had no easy access to health care. Constructed of concrete block, the clinic was completed two years ago and is staffed by a Haitian doctor. The group is currently constructing a second story to further enhance services to the people of the village and surrounding area. The CCHMP volunteers who all must pay their own travel expenses, number from 5 to 12 individuals per trip. They are used mostly, Tom says, as “grunt labor”, relying on Haitian contractors and their crews for the skilled labor. Volunteers spend a lot of time hauling sand and rock, digging footings, and mixing concrete. All of the materials are delivered and hand-carried, bucket-brigade style, to the construction site. While many spend their days assisting in the construction efforts, still others come to work at the clinic itself. Over the years, dentists and dental assistants have numbered among the volunteers, providing dental services to the villagers who receive very little dental care; health care workers have also been a part of the mission trips and they spend long hours providing basic health care and medicines.

An important part of the mission trip has always been to carry along needed supplies and provisions given the village is very poor, and the mission volunteers bring along items that are not easily or cheaply obtained in

Haiti

. American Airlines remains a partner in this venture through their Airline Ambassadors Program; the airline allows special baggage clearance so that each volunteer is allowed to take with them two to four extra 50 lb. bags on each flight. Volunteers spend lots of time packing and weighing prior to departure! Early on, they carried with them clothing, shoes and school supplies plus medicines and personal hygiene products, but over the years they’ve honed their contributions to school supplies, medicines, and non-perishable foods.

The newest project begun by the CCHMP is the development and construction of in-home water filtration systems (left) for the villagers. Because much of the disease and illnesses villagers experience can be attributed to poor quality water, the volunteers are now building concrete filtration systems which consist of a rectangular cube within which are layers of sand that filter sediments and clean the water as it moves through. Each filtration system comes complete with a lid, a spout and a hose to drain the now potable water for daily use. They are small, require no energy to operate, and so are a perfect solution for the Juampas people. On his last trip, Tom and the crew also restored an existing well and installed a new pump so that there is now potable water at the clinic. “The medical clinic has changed the nature of the village,” says Tom, “It’s a draw for people” from the region whose trip to the clinic can take all day or several days depending on where they live. Because people are drawn to the village for the clinic services, new businesses such as food stands, are popping up to serve the visitors; these businesses provide new sources of income for the villagers.

The CCHMP also supports a school in a distant village, Loparone. Again, they have worked to bring clean water to Loparone by providing and installing a new well pump. They also provide school supplies for the students. In Haiti, there is no “public school” so students must pay to get an education. Poverty among the villagers is so great that many children do not receive a formal education. Yet, Tom says, “every kid is hungry to go to school.”

Over time Tom has developed relationships with people in the village, visiting them in their homes and sharing meals. His love for the people there has translated into further service. Tom and his wife, Pam, have sponsored two students’ education costs since Tom’s been involved with CCHMP. Tuition for elementary school is $150 a year, perhaps a small amount for most of us in the U.S., but for the Haitian people it might as well be $1 million. They simply don’t have the money. Tuition for high school, or “classical” school as it’s called in Haiti, is $210. Tom and Pam’s “son” has now graduated from classical school and they intend to continue to support him as he attends college in Port au Prince this year. They have also supported their Haitian “daughter” who is nearing her classical school completion. Among the CCHMP folks, there are roughly 55 kids being supported in the way that Tom & Pam are supporting “their kids”. These are the children that will have the opportunity to change their lives and perhaps bring change as well to their community and their country.

When asked what architectural lessons he has learned from his mission trips to Juampas, Tom states, “There’s so much you can construct even without power tools and equipment! All concrete is mixed on the ground and hauled in five gallon buckets via bucket brigades to where it’s poured.” Originally, Tom tells us, they even made their own concrete blocks, forming them into large bricks and curing them in the sun. Now that more money is coming in, they get the blocks from a nearby manufacturer. In addition Tom states, “It’s obvious why the earthquake so devastated Port au Prince – there are no codes, and no standards and no design professionals to uphold them.” “All the construction has been based on traditional building types” he states, and have not been constructed to withstand earthquakes and hurricanes.

As for life lessons? Tom has been humbled, time and again, by the Haitian people. “They are forced to live day by day – they have no vision of what the future holds for them.” And yet, Tom relates, “they still have peace and joy in their spirit. They are loving and outgoing always and they have the energy to work hard.” They have, he says, “dignity of life”. And, Tom adds, he realizes how “clueless” we in the

United States

are about what it means to have a comfortable life – we always want more, and consider increased consumption the mantra of our economy. The people in the village of Juampas live simply, many still in huts with dirt floors, and yet they have made peace with their plight and remain happy people.

There have been some changes in Juampas and the area in the ten years that CCHMP has been traveling there. At the beginning, Tom relates, the 35-mile trek to Juampas was a virtually non-existent mountain path which took four to five hours to traverse. In recent years, a new road was built with funds from South Korea. Still, it takes approximately 2.5 hours to travel the steep mountain road and to get their supplies through the often chaotic Port au Prince and mountain villages. Haiti is, as Tom describes it, “a tragic country”, suffering many years from corrupt and unstable government complicated by recurring bad luck from Mother Nature. The fierce earthquake that devastated Port au Prince last year did not affect Juampas due to its distance from the capital city and its location on the mountain. Still, the effects are felt throughout this challenged nation as the chaos and uncertainty, the poverty and the isolation are endemic.

And, as technology arrives in Haiti, more changes are bound to occur. Many kids, Tom noted, now have cell phones, though often not enough money to pay for minutes. The internet has arrived and with it, access to information about the world outside of their small Caribbean island.

Technology also allows me to show you a little of the mission trip. Be sure to click on this link for the youtube video of the February trip. And visit the CCHMP website for wonderful photos.

surrounded by ugly

2011-02-03T16:55:00.002-06:00

So, I started writing this post on January 13th, and since then two things have happened. First, we were hit with a massive snowstorm with high winds, meaning we're left, after hours and hours and hours of shoveling and snow blowing with the absolute beauty of glistening, sparkling immaculate snow. What that does for the spirit is hard to characterize - suffice to say that as I glance frequently out my home office window at the snow and the papa cardinal who's been visiting the feeder all day, I am cheered and awed by the beauty of it all.

Second, since the furnace at our office chose one of the coldest days of the year to malfunction, I'm working at home today which meant I took a little more time than usual on social networking. Thanks to a Tweet from Traditional Building, I came across this video series about beauty, why it's important, and what its loss means to us as spiritual beings. It's an amazing perspective on art, architecture and music and how they impact us on a daily basis. And it made me realize that, yes, I was right. Being surrounded by ugly is soul-deadening. Beauty in all of its forms keeps us alive, keeps our connections to the spiritual, and to other humans, intact and real.

Perhaps my favorite quote from the series is this, building on an original quote of Oscar Wilde, "Put usefulness first and you lose it. Put beauty first and what you do will be useful forever." Spot on. Watch the video series and tell me what you think.

And now, for the original post:

It's been so difficult of late to come up with something fun or interesting to write about. Don't get me wrong, there are many topics upon which I could easily expound; the unfortunate truth is that few of them are design-related. I could go on at length about politics, about leadership, about the terrible tragedy in Tucson, about yoga and mediation, and hey, even about child-rearing and family life. But, that's not what this blog's about.

So I started wondering why I've been so uninspired. I work in an architecture office which, while certainly challenged by this horrible economy, is always working on something - devising solutions

to someone's problems through thoughtful design. And I spend a lot of time researching and writing the monthly newsletter and designing new print and website pieces. The office where I spend most of my work day is light-filled, well-designed and comfortable.

My home, the big old thing, is quite lovely despite it's age-associated high maintenance personality. My back garden, though snow-covered, is quietly beautiful during these cold, cold, winter days. The birds race between the feeders, the dried branches, grasses and foliage and the heated (!) bird bath , reminding me of the vital life force that exists even in extreme Midwestern winter temps. The night sky is brilliant with constellations tossed across its blackness, and the moon in its first quarter offers a bright hint of the light yet to come as she begins to display her lovely lunar effulgence with each passing night.

Buddha meditates, day in and day out, on my deck, heedless of winter's bitter bite; gazing out my kitchen window at this peaceful visage, I am mindful always of life's beauty and of its impermanence. Nothing lasts, not even winter with its cruel isolation.

Despite the beauty in which I walk and that I gratefully see and acknowledge every day, I feel like I am truly surrounded by ugly. All around me, buildings are failing, untended and unloved. Owners who are without the resources to tend to their properties seem to outnumber those who do. Some, it would appear, simply don't care. And it's not just downtown buildings, sitting woefully empty, victims of a depressed economy, it's the neighborhoods - even the venerable old church buildings, the public spaces, the shops - sit despondent on their shabby haunches sliding further and deeper into decay.

It is a truism in design circles that a space well-designed to both function and delight the senses, enhances well-being, productivity and mood. Could the opposite also be true? Is there a connection between bad design and depression? Between decaying infrastructure and sorrow? It's hard to find just the right words for a Google search, and my first attempt turned up all sorts of interesting pages, including one about sex-starved wives (!) but nothing that really touches the issue of the blues that descend when surrounded by something soul-killing (is that too harsh? I don't think so).

One website offered some insights, at least from the perspective of some architects. And there seems to be a lot of time and energy spent on dissertations regarding urban design and well-being, particularly in the UK, Europe and Australia. And this, taken from a scholarly publication suggests that what I'm feeling isn't out of the ordinary:

"Modern society is increasingly aware that humans and culture are components of the natural environment, and that human health is inextricably linked with environmental condition. Therefore, it is useful to explore methods and patterns of human settlement and landscape modification for their potential adverse effects on human as well as environmental health. The ﬁelds of landscape ecology and landscape architecture, among others, have generated a rich literature on the environmental consequences of urban land use. By comparison, research and discussion are highly limited on the related issue of human effects."

Aha! That explains why I can't find much online - the web's fantastic, but the study has to be done by someone before it can be published.

So if the place I'm living in doesn't feed my soul and in fact has the opposite effect, can I assume that the architectural and urban surroundings - the gritty, grimy small city feel of everything - is the cause of my lack of inspiration? Can I be THAT hard on my chosen community?

Well, yes, I can.

But I can also take a moment or two to meditate on some simple facts: 1) It's winter, everything looks worse when dressed in frozen, dirty slushy snow/salt/sand. Painted houses look so sad at this time of year but brighten considerably when the spring sun shines once again on their blisters and cracks. 2) Life's pretty tough 'round these parts thanks to a sluggish - no, let me re-phrase that - a treacle-slow economy. Everyone is hoping for better times, better work, better incomes to once again invest in home, hearth and business. 3)Yep, it's up to me. If I don't like what I see, if the platter offered up by this community life is looking mean and meager, perhaps I need to either accept that meanness, or pledge to once again roll up my sleeves and get to work. Or, just get the heck outta Dodge ~

Hmmmmm . . .

this is what architects DO

2011-01-14T13:56:00.005-06:00

Yes, this IS what architects do.

Sometimes I find it difficult to put into words what it is that architects do, exactly. I can wax eloquent and profound about creative juices, about solving problems, about turning dreams into reality. I can show you with the simple addition of a jpg file on this blog site (see below a sketch of one of our custom residential projects), how ideas in your head added to the expertise of the architect and the skill of the AutoCAD techie, equal drawings on paper which then become a real, living, breathing, sheltering building.

But in the end, it's images that tell the tale. The link above from Dwell magazine, one of my favorite publications on modern design, shows in vivid images of a fantastic remodel exactly what architects do.

Architects take what you have and turn it into what you want. Simple! (stated VERY tongue-in-cheek!) Whether what you have is an existing building/problem in need of a design solution, or what you have is a dream, it can be transformed by the art, science, and technology of the architect.

yoga and design

2010-10-22T11:42:00.015-05:00

I’m still pretty new to yoga, having been serious about my practice for just about five years now. So, I look for opportunities to take classes at different yoga studios. In this way I expand my own understanding of the asanas, or poses, of yoga and the spirituality and philosophy that supports my practice. In the last several months I’ve visited four different studios, three in Wisconsin and one here in Illinois.

What I’ve taken note of, aside from the teachings of the classes, and the ways of the teachers, is the design of the studios. Imagine that! The design characteristics of each of these studios are similar, and with good reason. Now, really, yoga can be performed anywhere there’s a little room to stretch out, which means there’s really no excuse for not practicing at home or on the road. Outdoors is especially wonderful and allows for a natural transition to spiritual presence. There are even events organized around taking yoga literally to the street.

But when I choose to attend a session at a yoga studio, I do expect certain things – a quiet space with a moderate temperature (with the exception of Bikram yoga which wants a very warm room) – a room with few distractions, save for perhaps something lovely on which to focus when chanting or meditating, lighting that’s neither garish nor too dim. Room to move, yet intimate.

Last Saturday, at BlissFlowYoga on University Avenue in Madison WI, I attended a class on hip opening entitled “Lotus Blossoming”. The studio’s been open just a little more than a month and it’s quite lovely. Though located on a very busy, noisy street, you’d never know it once inside. The main entrance at the rear of the building and down some stairs is unassuming, yet inside it feels inviting and comfortable – warm lighting, subtle wall colorings, a comfy banquette to rest a moment to fill out a form or sip a cup of tea, a window that borrows light from the studio space In the hallway leading to the studio space are three (three!!) changing rooms – ever so handy for those of us who travel to the studio, whether after a long day at work or a long trek from another state – a restroom, and a storage closet.

The studio itself is expansive – there were easily 30 students at the workshop and still it felt open and comfortable. The colors on the walls were muted, the lighting low level with fixtures located so as not to blind students when moving into poses. The floor was a lovely, warm, wood-look laminate which provides just a little cushioning beneath our mats. At the far end of the room was a wall of windows that looked out on bustling University Avenue – a bit difficult for students to see clearly when the teacher stood before the windows, but with its northern orientation, the bright, natural light poured in. In the middle of one long wall stood a carpeted, rectangular “stage” maybe 1-1/2 feet tall, several feet deep, perhaps 10’ long (I’m totally guessing!) upon which the teacher was clearly visible to all students as she demonstrated poses. Excellent idea.

The Mound St. Yoga Studio, located in a classic Madison neighborhood in an old storefront building offers a similar setting, with warm maple flooring and white walls, though the light coming from its large south-facing storefront windows can be blinding and too warm. Add to that the distraction of noisy college students ambling past on their way to UW’s Camp Randall Stadium, ogling students within and making random comments easily heard, well, let’s just say it’s not ideal. It is, however, good practice for finding quiet peace within regardless of what’s happening without.

Last spring I took a hot yoga class in Appleton WI at Trillium Yoga. Again, a lovely hardwood floor, but this one had one mirrored wall – disconcerting to some of us as we catch glimpses of ourselves moving into a difficult pose! And just a couple of weeks ago I attended an Ashtanga Yoga class at YogaTrek in Oak Park, IL. There’s something wonderful about old storefront buildings like this one, situated in the arts district of beautiful Oak Park. A smaller space, with exposed brick walls, wood floors, with low lighting augmented by soft morning light streaming in from the eastern storefront windows.

My favorite of course, the studio where I teach, tucked away in the “hay mow” of a small old barn turned studio/spa, is quiet, warmly carpeted, with daylight dancing lightly in from both east and west windows. It is small and intimate and particularly wonderful for candlelight yoga on New Year’s Eve, a time of reflection and release.

If I were designing a new space I would draw elements from each of these to create what for me would be the ideal – beautiful, quiet, comfortable – evoking peace and encouraging pranayama. Design considerations for studios that nurture and comfort while providing an atmosphere for learning and movement would have:

Open space, unencumbered by walls, ceilings or storage
Lighting that is soft yet bright enough to see clearly - dimmable for Savasana
Abundant natural light
Moderate temperature - neither too cool nor too warm. In Oak Park, the instructor turned the heat up prior to our arrival, turned it off while we practiced, and turned it on again during Savasana. I'm probably the only one who noticed that, but it made a huge difference in our comfort level.
Muted colors - no distractions, no hype, minimal decor
Ample storage for mats, blankets and other props
"Working" parts separate - reception, restrooms, changing rooms, storage
Soundproofing if shared space with other noisier activities
Sound system integrated into the room - I'm a big fan of music during yoga, not everyone is, but if it's used it's ideal to have consistent operations and volume so as not to be disturbed during the practice by music cutting out, or changing volume.

namaste ~

Sweet Home Chicago

2010-09-10T16:05:00.030-05:00

I have always loved Chicago. From my very first visit as a senior in high school back in 1972 when our choir director took a handful of us to see “Jesus Christ Superstar” at the Auditorium, I have thrilled to the energy that is the Windy City.

As a student of architecture and architects, I’ve developed an almost “hometown pride” in learning about the incredible design heritage of Daniel Burnham, Dankmar Adler and Louis Sullivan, Frank Lloyd Wright, Mies van der Rohe. I still swell when viewing the newer structures by the likes of Jeanne Gang, Helmut Jahn (love that foreboding Harold Washington Library!), Stanley Tigerman. And how can you not love Lake Point Tower, that iconic lakefront high-rise by George Schipporeit and John Heinrich?

Chicago’s where this country girl learned to love cities.

Over the last three decades I’ve visited as often as I could. For many years I made my annual pilgrimage to the Hilton on South Michigan as I participated in the Illinois Municipal League’s convention. I spent many hours on my own, sometimes with a colleague, exploring the Loop and the wonderful, diverse neighborhoods, venturing off by taxi, on bicycle, but mostly on foot. I was hooked by the architecture, naturally, but also by the food, the people, the noise, the music that Chicago plays to lure guests into her wonderful urban web.

For the majority of the years I’ve been trekking in to the city, Mayor Daley’s been at City Hall. His announcement not to seek re-election after 21 years in office no doubt brings a mix of joy and sorrow, depending on your political bent, but for me it signals a shift – whether a positive or negative impact only time will tell. Mr. Daley himself has experienced several shifts during his tenure as Mayor as any true public servant should.

Warning, political soapbox here . . . I’m a former elected official so know whereof I speak – I have found that those elected folks who are able to take in new information, bend their opinions, shift their hard-fought perspectives as times, people, and values change are the most successful and ultimately the most effective public servants. We elect people for what they represent at the time we walk into a ballot box. We should not expect them – nor should we want them to – stay exactly the same, unwavering, even in the face of undeniable change. Humans change, conditions change, everything changes. Wise is the political animal who knows how to change, when to change, to make a difference for his/her constituency.

I’ve witnessed first-hand some of the many architectural and urban planning successes of the Daley administration, including the profusion of flowers and landscaping to soften the hardscape of the city’s brawny, bustling streets, the museum campus and the awesomely beautiful and functional Millennium Park. I have delighted in the miracle that is the Modern Wing of the Art Institute and the cooperation required to build it. I was also in the city within days after the Miegs Field overnight disappearance debacle – OK, everybody makes mistakes and oversteps their bounds!

So, Mayor Daley leaves behind him a city transformed. How many mayors can claim such a legacy – especially in this day when folks get so hamstrung by our information-overload society fed by instantaneous news, opinions and, often, ridicule. In Daley’s wake, Chicago can boast 600,000 trees planted, 85 miles of landscaped medians, and more than 7million (7 million!!) square feet of “green roofs” planted.

As architecture critic Blair Kamin notes, Daley ruled with an iron fist and a green thumb. Truer words were never spoken. Rule he did. But in his heart and soul the Mayor understands that people are what make a city hum. Daley espoused, and worked for, the kind of city culture that attracts people – to live, to work, to visit. Keeping people as the centerpoint of his unquestionably powerful presence and sometimes dictatorial governing methods made Chicago the world class city it is today.

Hats off to you, Mayor Daley. And I say to the candidates as they start to line up, know this: you have indeed some big shoes to fill.

public spaces revisited

2010-09-07T16:55:00.003-05:00

In response to my post about public spaces, a friend of mine mentioned the sorry state of our local farmer’s market location. “You talk about public spaces being beautiful and people-attractors, and yet the farmer’s market in your town is so dismal! A crumbling parking lot of a huge old vacated supermarket! Not very attractive!” said she. (Or something to that effect!).

And she’s absolutely right.

And yet, every Saturday morning that I’m not away I, along with many other faithfuls, park my car in that eyesore of a lot and wend my way through the dozen or so stalls filled with organic veggies, locally grown eggs and beef, honey and flowers and herbs and baked goods. It’s a small market. But it still fills a need and provides us with an opportunity to partake of the bounty of our local growers and producers, the warmth of their smiles and the heart of the their “market community”. I stop in, already in a blissful state after teaching yoga, and find myself carried along by the bliss that is a farmer’s market – rich and redolent with hard working people providing me with something I can’t grow or produce in my little, shady back yard. And with bright smiles and hearty gratitude to boot.

So, you might say, doesn’t that fly in the face of your own pronouncement about public spaces being the heart and soul of a community? Well, yes. And no. Yeah, it’s kinda ugly and on its own that dreary abandoned property just adds to my growing concern about the local economy. But honestly, the light in the eyes of the growers, the convivial attitudes, the laughter and chatter of the shoppers, still provides that sense of “community” that I and most humans crave.

I’ll settle for that. For now.

Speaking of Public Spaces!

2010-08-19T11:29:00.002-05:00

What an absolutely fabulous idea! Now, not everyone wishes to be subjected to other bodies in a public space, but the theory behind this is so solid - a public seating area like this specially designed public hammock calls people to swing and share time and energy with each other. You just have to appreciate the thought process, the enthusiasm for public gathering spaces, and of course, the design that went into this incredible creation!

And it all started with a "tweet" - so if you're still questioning the power of social media and marketing, think again.

This little article inspired me, of course, to Google The Awesome Foundation. It's hard to determine who's behind this Foundation or where the funds come from (does it matter?!) from this spare website, but it does offer up links to award recipients. I intend to spend more time viewing this site, and more time thinking about how I could use $1000 for public art, or music, or play.

OK, put on YOUR thinking caps - what could YOU do with $1000?!

Palette of Possibility

2010-08-03T15:55:00.023-05:00

I recently came upon an Architect's blog entitled "Architects 2Zebras", chock full of interesting takes on this most interesting profession. But this particular post nearly had me in tears by the time I got to Reason #107.

Having been married for nearly 28 years to an Architect and having worked in various capacities for same Architect for many of those years, I have developed enormous respect for what Architects carry in their heads, put on paper (now coming first through the computer monitor and mouse) and construct out of mere dreams, ideas and attitudes. Quite astonishing really, to think that a quiet dream, a hint of an idea, a dollop of need, can create something as simple, humble and powerful as an earthquake-proof hut in Haiti or as brilliantly beautiful and hopeful as London's St. Paul's Cathedral. Both serve needs, both add something to their community and to the world, both resulted from the knowledge, commitment, caring and expertise of an Architect.

Truly, Architects work from a "palette of possibility" - choosing, blending, creating colors and light and space from what's been given them in the form of education, innate talent and input from other people.

I've been heard to say to folks, when they put the question to me (as the marketing arm of our firm), "Why should I hire an Architect?" something akin to what this blogger states. Have you ever noticed when you've been in a building - a church, a home, an office, even a shopping mall - and felt a particular sense of wellbeing, a warmth of spirit, and a joy of heart, a contentment? It's quite likely because the space you were in was designed to do just that - to take advantage of light, and views, and air, and function - so that you felt good when you were there. That's what Architects do. All the time.

So, in these most difficult times, as noted in Reason 95, when what can happen is "fewer resources, resulting in lesser buildings, less pride of place, and all of us being lesser for it" seems to BE happening in our little neck of the woods, it does my heart good to read these wonderful reasons why Architects matter. In my heart, I've long known these reasons, and could maybe add a couple more. What about you?

Public Spaces

2010-07-28T17:09:00.000-05:00

You know, one of the things that's glaringly missing in many communities, at least in this neck of the woods, is a "public space" - that mix of shared commonality, a bit of urban grit, human scaled, "being-ness". The Europeans seem to have that down, with their piazzas, squares, circles and places (OK, I'm butchering this, but that's pronounced platz-es). The Piazza San Marco in Venice, or the Place de la Concorde in Paris are beautifully jammed with people most times of the year.

All communities need places for people to meet, to gather, to rest, to chat, to people watch. In this nation we've given over a lot of that to the shopping mall - a poor excuse for a public space with its banality, its urging to excessive consumption, bad lighting and bad food.

We were visiting Vancouver BC a couple of weeks ago; last year we were in Seattle. Both cities have glorious public markets complete with places to gather with a friend or allow your little one (or yourself!) to chase pigeons or snarf down an ice cream. Public spaces like these markets are instant people-attractors and make cities ever so much more livable. Think about Millennium Park in Chicago and how it draws folks in - beckons them to stay awhile, to gaze at the fantastic Cloud Gate sculpture, (http://www.millenniumpark.org/artandarchitecture/cloud_gate.html)or the "face" fountain (http://www.millenniumpark.org/artandarchitecture/crown_fountain.html)- it provides a massive, at-grade fountain for kids to splash in and for adults to cool concrete-beaten feet. Think about the Capitol Square in Madison WI where on Saturday mornings the entire square is packed with one of the best Farmer's Markets in the nation (http://www.dcfm.org) and the lawn of the capitol is strewn with families and people of all ages enjoying the best of organic and locally grown foods and other products. It enlivens you and makes you smile and gives you hope for the world just being present in that space.

Public spaces are light and air, they are song and dance, they are soul and sustenance, part cathedral, part spectacle, all human. We would all be better served to design and incorporate public spaces into our small cities to bring out the best human nature offers and to grace our towns with beauty and humanity.

Starting Today ~

2010-06-30T11:19:00.000-05:00

While I have long resisted starting a blog, despite being encouraged by many over time, a thought that recently occurred to me has caused me to at least begin. I'll share more very soon on that catalytic thought but for now, let me just introduce myself and what this blog may - or may not - be about when I really start rolling.

I'm an eclectic - many interests, mostly related, but often not. In my professional life I manage and market my husband's architectural firm. Over the 15plus years in this position, and the nearly 30 years living with an architect, I've learned a helluva lot about design - what's good, what's great, what sets my teeth on edge - and I've become an aficianado of design along with, as is my wont, a bit of a critic. At the firm we have a monthly electronic newsletter (sign up at designmatters.cfa@gmail.com) entitled Design Matters, so I chose that title as well for this blog.

Because design DOES matter - and because design matters - the issues, concerns and beauty - are really what drive my life and my passions.

Aside from the professional side of me, I'm a yoga teacher and a student of spiritualism, meditation, ritual and the like. I'm a mother of three adult children, and wife to the architect, Christopher Fye, for almost 30 years now. I'm a seeker, a traveler, a wonk, a philosopher . . . and, well, probably much more, but that will suffice for now.

Stay tuned. As I find the time - make the time - to build this blog, you'll learn the catalyst, and with luck, be able to help me out with it too.

'till then ~