a kitchen extension

This 1920's planned neighborhood is on the National Register of Historic Places.
The family asked for enough space so they could bake pies from scratch while talking to their friends. The Japanese maple, to the right in front of the side porch, needed to stay.

The new wing is from the back porch - left - and the 3 windows - middle - to the drain spout -right. The new bulkhead provided better basement access.

A bay already existed on the right side, so I matched the roof pitch. The height of the roof was set by the 2nd floor windows. The windows, both the rough openings of the individual windows and the three together with wide mullions - match other windows in the neighborhood and others in the house itself. The size of the porch helps the windows look centered ( they aren't) on the wall, which helps the extension look simple, expected - "uhh, where's the wing? what else would you have built?"

Of course, none of my work would look nearly as good as it does without the excellent skills of the contractors I work with. They respect my vision. I know they improve what I put on paper.

An addition to a modular home

My first job after MIT was with a company which built modular homes. So I was quite interested and curious when a family called about 8 years ago, asking for help expanding their modular home.

The house was set on a hill with a garage under the kitchen wing. It was sturdy, as I expected: frames which have to travel to their destination are usually built to withstand jars and jolts. However, the garage had no space left for the cars, and the house did not adapt well to company, or have good access to the backyard.

Could I help design a wing?

This was one of those times when the owners knew quite a lot about what they wanted in a wing: how big it needed to be, what spaces were required, where it should go, but not how to make it look "right". They had some sketches - which they didn't like.

The first picture shows the existing house as the framing of the wing commences. The second shows the completed wing.

The right look was an addition which did not overwhelm the house, a roof line which made the wing subservient, a style that complimented the traditional cape with its center entrance and balanced dormers.
In eastern New England houses were (and are today) often expanded in a rhythm: main house block, a smaller wing or two, a barn. Here the family room wing with garage and mud room below are detailed as a barn - at least from the street - lots of blank wall, only one window, simple lines. The slope of the roof - the same slope as the main house roof - brings the eye down to the land, in this case the driveway. The roof running above the garage doors cuts the height of the 2 story space, making the 2nd floor family room appear as a dormer. As the house sits quietly on the land, so does the wing, not above it. The wing is in scale with the original modest house.

The expansion rhythm is often quoted as " Big House, Little House, Back House, Barn" an old jump rope rhyme as well as the title to an excellent book.

"Before the Big House"

That was the title of the talk I gave for the Bennington Historical Society at the Bennington Museum  on July 16th.
The "Big House" is the Park-McCullough mansion, built in 1864. It is set on a hill: 50 ft tall, with 3 stories and an observatory, a bellevedere that looks over the countryside. The House, when built, was about 20 ft taller than anything else in North Bennington, except the church steeple. It had hot and cold running water, a furnace, and gas lighting.

Really, however, the talk was about North Bennington in 1856, 4 years after the 1852 flood that destroyed the center of the village. A title about that didn't make much sense as hardly anyone remembers that flood today or knows the 1856 map of the village. I wanted to show the resilience of the townspeople as shown by the reconstruction of the mills and houses within 4 years of the flood. And I wanted to present the village - 60 houses, 8 mills - just before the Industrial Revolution takes off.

The Society doesn't usually have summer lectures, so we were experimenting. Would anyone come?

I had power point presentation of 70 slides, a hand out and some books to share. I planned to get everyone to measure their own 'cubit'. If we got 10 people, we would have a discussion, 20 (because the museum has a/c and it was hot!) would be a seminar. With 30 I would give a  lecture.We put out 40 chairs since no one sits in the front row.

50 people came, sat in the front row, stayed to the end, asked questions and looked at the books, took the handout - a copy of the 1856 map - home. None were left behind.

People tell me it was a good talk. In the next year I hope for some comments about what people see now when they are in North Bennington. For me, that would mean success.

How I work with clients #3 of 5 Existing Conditions

Existing Conditions

This list gives you, the owner, and me a overview of your house. It helps us set priorities and gives us a record


An example:


You want a new wing that will open out to your back yard. You also want another bedroom and bath,

Your septic system's placement will determine where you can add on.You will not want large trucks driving over it during construction.
If the field should be expanded, now is the time to consider that.
If you have the opportunity to connect to a town system, now may be the time. That work and expense should be included in the job.

Despite this list when we renovate existing houses we find things. I  remember the excavation of unknown septic systems at two different jobs. Both were disconnected - we checked to be sure! - but one needed to pumped.

The "you designed something? where?" wing

Or maybe the post should be called "they needed an architect?"

This center chimney salt box is well loved by its current family.

The view here shows it after the wing I designed/ rebuilt was complete.

I was asked to rebuild the connection between the house, built in 1711, to the barn, probably built after 1860. The house had been updated recently with a new laundry and bathroom in part of the wing and a new kitchen in the main house. Partitions had also been removed to return the main house to its original room layout.


Now the family was ready to tackle the wing. It was very poorly constructed from mismatched and left over materials. One space, a dark room in a previous life, smelled of chemicals. The door to the barn was problematic.Was there even a foundation? But the porch? Ah! that was fine. Here is the original wing.
                                                   
The 'Big House, Little House, Back House, Barn' way of organizing farmsteads applies to eastern Massachusetts as well as Maine . (See Hubka's book by the same name.) So I had my form. To avoid working around 18th century post and beam framing the old bathroom which needed serious repair was moved to the wing. A new bathroom was added. A second staircase was also included, as the original which rose against the center chimney was tight in all directions including headroom.

So here is a 'little house' and 'back house'. It has bedrooms with closets, an entry graceful enough for company with a mud room tucked around the corner, a back stair with light, a family room and a work room with easy access to the barn, and the welcoming porch.

We all agreed our wing should not compete with a house which has graced its hill for 300 years. And, yes, it takes skill and a good eye to build a quiet addition that suits its inhabitants.

Wing for a Georgian Federal farm house

This renovated and new wing belongs to the house for which I recreated a new entrance. See my posts about the 1795 Federal entrance for pictures of the main house which so beautifully uses the Golden Section for its elevations.

Before I was hired to fix the front door, the family asked me to design garage and storage space and to facilitate repair to the shed/family room.

From the left: existing kitchen with slider, renovated shed, new storage and garage, seen from the east.

The views of the shed are from the west.

The shed, a workshop, c. 1830, had been moved against the house

in the 1950's. It had been an awkward, inadequate garage before it became the family room.

The shed was not square or level. Every piece of the new wing which connected to it needed to be scribed. There had to be 'wiggle room' in the new wing's plans, elevations and framing so it could fit against the shed, be water tight, structurally sound and meet code.

The work could not have been done successfully without an excellent restoration contractor who liked working with me. He had to interpret and refine my drawings. Obviously, he did so beautifully.

Thanks, John.

Folk Victorian, in a great neighborhood

The family of 5 who lived here liked their house, their yard, their neighborhood. They just wanted one big space for all of them and their friends instead of two skinny ones almost too narrow for furniture. And how nice a fireplace would be!

The solution was to removed the wall, making those two little rooms one, and bump out a bay for a gas fireplace with window seats on both sides. The fireplace is direct vent, so no chimney.

the house before the bay - above

the house with bay - below

While the wall between the rooms was not structural, the outside wall which was removed to add the bay, was. Rather than carry the part of the house above that bay on one beam that spanned the entire opening - an expensive option - we placed a column on either side of the fireplace. The spans then became like those of a window or door, easy to frame conventionally.

Now, instead of a too little space in the living room to place a chair across from that couch and a dining room almost too small for a table, there is space for both. Invisible here is the library space between the couch and the front wall with the family's antique desk. As the house had a simple c. 1905, Late Victorian/Colonial Revival interior, we added just enough molding to let the posts read as columns and pilasters.

The photograph shows the room before the painting is complete. I do like those sunny window seats!

Every client has a budget. Providing a solution within that budget is the challenge, a good challenge that required creativity and communication to make sure the solution answers the client's problem. This design was possible because the family agreed they did not need a separate dining room.

what to do with a post

Clients want their posts 'out of there'. That requires adding new beams and posts someplace else to adequately carry the weight of the house to the ground. But sometimes that reframing is too complicated, too expensive.

In the kitchen remodel shown here, the post was the outside corner of the original house. The second floor, attic, and roof were held up in this corner, especially after we cantilevered the kitchen 2' out and added a new beam where the outside kitchen wall used to be. The new beam is in the ceiling just to the right of the down lights, toward the window in the photograph.

So the post became part of the design: we added molding to create a plinth block below and a column above. The 'we' in this case was me designing and the excellent finish carpenter executing.

While the kitchen and the eating area needed to be connected visually, those eating did not need to see the dirty dishes in the sink. So the back splash was wrapped around the end of the counter and tied in, visually, to the post by molding. That extra 6" keeps the sink hidden from those sitting at the table. That 6" also ties the column into the design, it isn't hanging out there alone at the end of the counter.

The kitchen table (out of sight under the wrought iron chandelier) is visible from the kitchen. So is the door to the back yard and the stair to the play room above the garage. A Good Thing for mothers and families.

A note about that window over the kitchen sink: The house sits on a hill. The view from the sink is wonderful, into the trees. The client wanted the window to come down to the counter.

The contractor - who had years of experience and much skill - did it, but it is not a good idea. Wood, glass and granite move at a different rates. Yes, houses move. Not allowing room for expansion and contraction, expecting the window frame to meet up precisely with the granite counter top is asking for problems.

1950's vernacular Usonian

The highly respected instructor at the local vo-tec built this house for his family in the 1950's. Compact, with built-in furniture which dictated the use of every room, it felt much like the Frank Lloyd Wright Usonian houses I had visited.

His children were happy to inherit the house but wanted more room, un-dedicated, larger spaces. They had already added a garage and a stone wall to separate the house from the back road which had become a short cut from one state route to another.

They needed the front door about where it was, they wanted light but hoped to preserve their privacy. And they liked the house. The wing needed to compliment the original vision.

The original house is to the right, past the flamingos. The new wing is in the middle with skylights, next to the garage to the left. The overhang matches the existing and protects the entry deck and the walkway leading to the driveway. The half wall and the light post with its round globe at the edge of the deck help lead the eye to the entrance which was in danger of disappearing under the shadow of the roof. The flamingos and flower pots help too.

Folk Victorian, circa 1872

A contractor bought this 2 family in-town house and asked for my help. Because of the deep lot we were able to return to its original single family status and add a 'barn' as the second living unit.

This massing was similar to other homes in the neighborhood. The back of the barn looks out over town owned wetlands.

The house was renovated on a strict budget.

The 2 units sold as condominiums immediately.

Some highlights:

The living room fireplace mantle had disappeared. The contractor

found a new one at a discount warehouse, Building 19: Victorian style interpreted by Thai craftsmen. We laughed, but it fit the budget and in place, painted, looked great.

The basement had about 6 ft. head room. We found out why when we dug the foundation for the barn addition - a high water table. That required the wing be set higher on the site. Then the roof lines didn't meet properly, necessitating on-the-spot redesign.

The original 1872 house used only one profile for all the moldings. It ran sideways up the windows, upside down as an apron, right side up on the baseboard. The visual variety came from how the light stuck the curves in the different positions. So simple, so effective.

The windows in the faux barn door are over the kitchen sink. The current owners have continued the visual joke by landscaping a faux barn entrance ramp below the 'door'.

The project made a real impact on the neighborhood and received

a local Historic Prservation Award.

New garage in the same place

This garage belongs to a dramatic c. 1915 Arts & Crafts home, glimpsed here directly behind the garage. Across the street is a wooded and shrubby bank sloping down to the river.
The topography required us to build in the same sandy location as the existing tiny, structurally unsound, stone garage. The garage needed to be, like the original, useful and incidental.

The original caretaker's cottage (just out of view on the left) overlooked the garage, so a low pitched hip roof was chosen as less intrusive than the original gable.

Structurally this was difficult, holding back the sand as we dug a bigger hole. We also ran into an uncharted sewer line running across the driveway from the caretaker's house. While we were applying for the building permit from the Town, the State's wetlands rules changed.

Please notice that I use 'we'. That includes the owner, the contractor, even the neighbor whose septic system was uncovered. The excavator, the foundation man and the engineer conferred about that sand. The new stone wall and steps, the depth of the roof overhang, the trim around the garage doors, the paint color are as important to the garage's success as those neat Arts & Crafts garage doors.

The whole property received a local Historic Preservation Award.

Why Didn't Regulating Lines Get Passed Down?

In the more than 35 years that I've worked as an architect renovating old houses north of Boston, I've worked on houses as old as 1680 and as new as 2000. And because so much about existing construction is unknown until it is actually taken apart, I worked very closely with 'my' contractors - about 8 different firms - much as design-build teams work.

In the beginning I was lucky enough to work with experienced contractors who had grown up working for their fathers - so the knowledge we had access to was deep and broad. Later the crews pretty much knew each other and if there was a real problem we could ask everyone (and their fathers!) for their expertise.

In my experience neither they nor the men who did finish millwork had ever been taught about any kind of regulating lines being used to determine proportion or design. They certainly have been interested in the ideas.

Circle geometry is beginning to be taught at forums of the Timber Framers Guild.

I met architects 40 years ago who knew about the Golden Section. I know only one architect today who is familiar with the Golden Section as it applies to architecture, but have not been able to have in depth conversations about how he uses the proportions.

I would welcome information about who is using all the variations of regulating lines and where. Earlier posts outline what I know at the moment.

first picture of new entrance

The contractor called: the old door and its pediment were down, the new entrance was going up.
Of course, I showed up!

The original sheathing was exposed. But, almost no ghosting - the tell-tale signs of where the first entrance had been. Two boards showed evidence of a hand rail. A beam had been cut away a bit. Neither was enough to determine the original dimensions or profiles (the shape of the mouldings used). The contractor, joiner, and I all really wished there was more to look at, learn from.

The new door, sidelights and columns were in place. The men lifted the fanlight and its surround and set it above the door for me to see. The winter sunlight bouncing off the snow was brilliant.

Not bad.
But hard to see: so white in the winter sunshine, jarring between the pink house and the blue door. As I expected, it looked too new: not enough layers of paint. The mouldings seemed fine: the shadows in the right places. The columns attenuated as they should, the fan shape right, but was it too flat? The 2009 door and sidelight seemed out of place: clearly modern. I was so involved I couldn't see it!

For me, this is a common reaction. I won't go back now for a while. I'll turn down the road as if by accident, and come across the house unexpectedly - and see then how it feels.

the fan light for the new 1795 entrance

We had originally assumed the fanlight would be a Fypon composite. Fypon reproductions are based on real pieces, so we knew it would look OK. The only disconnect would be that the piece they copied would be generic, not specific to our entrance.

However, the Fypon fan was really bigger than what had been there originally. It made the entrance too tall. Listening to my frustration, Jack suggested he build a smaller fan from scratch - same cost to the owners. Excellent!

When the photograph of the entrance was blown up the shape of the fanlight could be seen as an arc with flat ends. Jack said this detail made it easier to assemble neatly to the sill above the door. Good.

So, back I went to the dimensions Jack needed to actually build this. He needed an arc with a radius for the fan... As I drew it, choosing a random semi-circle from my circle template, I stopped in surprise:
The circle which fit the arc of the fanlight, using the center of the door as its center, encompassed the whole entrance.
The squares, the overlapping Golden Section rectangles were clean. The circle centered on the entrance is not quite as clear. I love the way it covers the entrance to the house, protecting it. But it's not crisp. Do I have it right?

new 1795 entrance

More on the 1795 house entrance: 

  
One of the ways I come to understand a building is to measure it and then draw it on paper. Using a tape measure, a clipboard and a pen to record the space inside and out is, for me, a way to spend time sensing the character of a place. Putting those dimensions on paper lets me revisit and more clearly know what I saw and felt.

So, I measured the front of the 1795 house, and put it on paper. Then I looked at what was there using the proportions of the square and the rectangle derived from its diagonal.
And there was the pattern - each side of the house was a square. The windows on each side were also symmetrically placed on each side of the center of the square. That square is the determining shape and dimension for this house. You can see the squares marked on the first drawing.

In the second drawing you can see the arcs derived from the diagonal of the square. They determine the size of the center bay. (Yes, they don't meet exactly. However, considering that they are only 6" or so off over a building 38 feet long, that's pretty close.)

I was delighted. I knew then how wide the entrance had been, and not just because I'm an experienced architect with an 'educated eye'.

 

New 1795 entrance

Next chapter in working on the 1795 house entrance:

The client wants to use a modern door and sidelights: energy efficient, less expensive, tax credits.
That means that part of the entrance size is known: 60 inches wide, 80 inches high. The proportions and moulding of the door and the sidelights are also fixed.

The existing door is post-WWII, Mid-Century - and I read it immediately as such. I am not sure, even if I copy on old door exactly, that I can design a door that doesn't read 'Early-21st Century'.
The subtlety of a period has to do with tools, materials, joinery, as well as proportion, parts, and details. Weathering, layers of paint, dings (ie: being used for 200 years), matter too.

Still, I want to try, you know: such a fine challenge!

how 'deep' a shadow?

This week I went to see the pilasters Jack Cadwell is building for the 1795 re-created entrance.

Of course, they look fine: shiny and new, true copies of our shop drawings.

We like them. We know they will look fine. The details that will make us wince may be glaring to us, but invisible to others. In fact, one of us will probably be aware of how something could have been done better that the other of us doesn't notice.

I will be looking especially at the shadows: are they strong enough? too deep? And at proportions: We aren't making an exact copy: we have nothing that accurate to go by. But did we catch the sense? If not, what exactly did we miss? Did the pattern and proportion put the emphasis in the right places? Does the entrance work as a whole? Does it all 'integrate seamlessly'? (How about those fancy words?!)

This something I can't gauge now because the grain of the wood of the columns is so prominent and I am seeing the parts from 20 ft away, not 200, under interior lighting. The subtlety of proportion and pattern will not be visible until they are painted, assembled with the fan and its surround, and set in place, framing the door - at which point any mistakes we made will be too late to fix...

primary documents for the new, c.1795, entrance

Continuing to teaching myself how to load pictures (a long slow process), while working on the 1795 House's entrance.


The owners had an old picture of the farm, when
the barn was still there, the driveway dirt.
The entrance is simpler than the other local examples
-not as tall and imposing. It has an elliptical fan, and columns, a roof. But the columns stop at the fan, and there is no broad architrave (the piece above the fan) below the entrance's roof.

When I blew up the picture, it was clear the fan's curve ends with straight sides, maybe 3" high. The 'joiner' - the traditional name the millwork guy chooses to use for what he does -tells me this detail makes for an easier joint: square instead of at an angle.

The other entrances in town of approximately the same date are both too grand to copy. The entrance we needed to recreate, as you can see in the photo, was lovely but less imposing.

So, what size was it? And what shape was the fan?


Show all

a new c. 1795 entrance

This is an experiment - me teaching myself how to load a few pictures -


The owners of this farm house c. 1795, asked me to help design a new entrance. The one in the picture dates to the late 1940's, and is in poor repair.

I had already added a garage, screened their back porch, and repaired their family room , a shed which was poorly attached to the house about the same time as the entrance was modified.

This was a new problem. We had an old vague photograph of the house taken from a distance showing the original entrance. We knew of two other houses in town from the same period but their entrances were grander than what our photograph showed. So what should the entrance be? Exactly how big ? What mouldings?

Luckily, I was working with a fine contractor and a millwork carpenter. We knew each other's work and respected each other's opinions.