Private Courtyards

I am incredibly fond of private courtyards in residential housing design. They seem to work especially well in hot and windy climates, where they offer protection from the elements. If you are lucky enough to have the prevailing wind blowing in the right direction, the ideal placement of the courtyard would be to face southwest so that you would get the late afternoon sun and sunset.

Courtyards are a perfect way to add privacy and to subtly extend the interior space outside. I have posted two contemporary examples of courtyards here designed by Spanish architect Alberto Baeza which I found inspiring. I would personally add more plantings to these courtyards, as part of the joy of owning a private courtyard is the ability to look out into your own secret garden.

David Katon's Southern Highlands Home

David Katon of Burley Katon Halliday built this stunning tribute to Modernism in Australia's Southern Highlands.






I came across it in Vogue Living Australia's May/June issue and immediately filed it away under 'dream home design'. Hmmm, if I could somehow incorporate Toyo Ito's arches and an inner courtyard... and a wee bit more funk to the interiors... Definite dream home material.

Tama Art University Library

This is a photo of the new Tama Art University Library designed by Toyo Ito, that I have been unable to tear myself away from over the last 24 hours.


I love how the design is so light and graceful and its statement so ethereal. Its soaring arches and curved pillars echo classical architecture but the modern materials, large windows and spare finishing speak to a very contemporary aesthetic.


The structure has also been built on a gentle slope, and both floors follow the natural curve of the hill. It was also designed to hold 300,000 volumes underground, with a gallery on the main floor and a large reading area on the top floor.

Mimetic House

One of the AAI (Architectural Association of Ireland) winners this year was this house that is tucked deep in the countryside of County Leitrim.

Vertical panes of glass and mirror are alternated on the exterior to allow light in to the house while at the same time reflecting the surrounding landscape. The architect, Dominic Stevens, designed it to reflect the change in seasons and weather conditions thereby 'mimicking' its environment and becoming a part of it.

Langston Hughes Library

I really admire projects that take historic buildings and combine them seamlessly with contemporary architecture. It is a difficult feat to pull off, but in the best cases the reinterpretation brings the building alive and creates a space that speaks to both eras.

A marvelous example of this is the Langston Hughes Library in Clinton, Tennessee. Maya Lin designed this for the Children's Defence Fund to house a 5,000 volume reference collection that specializes in the Civil Rights Movement and books written by Black authors. It is an 1860's cantilevered barn which is typical of that area and period.

Milan: Pircher and Paola Lenti

There was another prefab installation in the Zona Tortona that was far more interesting than the Loft Cube. It was a prefabricated system by Bestetti Associati for Pircher that is entirely made of glass, wood and iron.


Large rectangular prefabricated rooms can be coordinated to create a variety of home designs. They also claim to be environmentally sustainable and energy efficient.

The interiors inside the Pircher installation were decorated with furniture and rugs by Paola Lenti. Their stunning collections are extremely high quality and come in an array of saturated hues.

I am completely besotted with the whole rug collection and particularly those designed by Patricia Urquiola.

Milan: Loft Cube

The area outside the Marcel Wanders Studio exhibit was dominated by a full sized Loft Cube. After seeing it in so many magazines over the last year, I was dying to get inside and quickly joined the queue.


Initially in awe of the layout and clever separation of living areas, my disappointment mounted as the practical woman in me kept searching for storage - any storage, but to no avail. I also do not feel that additional storage space would have affected the design concept. For example, the bathroom and kitchen sinks were wall mounted with no cupboards below. Hmm... where to hide those cleaning products? Perhaps the people who come to clean the cube bring them with them...

The choice of white Corian for the kitchen counters, cupboards and sink looked absolutely stunning, but would drive the average person mad trying to keep clean, as every little fingerprint would stand out like a scar on your lovely new kitchen. I was thinking that perhaps a better choice would be a white Corian counter (which is manageable) and cupboards in a wood veneer to match the window frames.

I often think that what differentiates industrial design from fine art is the fact that great design must be beautiful and practical; definitely a hard balance to strike. In fact, what initially drew me to design was that amazing combination of beauty, genius, function and a grounding in the every day that the very best work achieves.

Georgian Dublin

My favourite route through Dublin is to travel up Leeson Street, cross the canal and turn right onto Fitzwilliam. At this point, on a clear day, you have a mile long view of early Georgian town homes that stretches uninterrupted (except for one tragic half block) until it meets Holles Street Maternity Hospital. Coming from a part of the world where most buildings are less than 100 years old, I am in awe of this small stretch of history and it allowed me to understand immediately the current popularity of Georgian homes.

During the 18th century Dublin was transformed from a medieval town into one of the finest Georgian cities in Europe. Peace and stability in the country gave rise to great social and economic activity; and like most eras of economic prosperity, architecture became a huge reflection of this golden period. In the two centuries that followed the year 1800, when the Irish Parliament was dissolved and the MPs moved to England, severe economic decline, terrible tragedy and political upheaval translated into minimal architectural investment. The result of this 200 year period of very little building and development, was the preservation of an incredible number of Georgian homes, streets and squares, which would have otherwise most likely have been demolished in favour of Victorian Gothic style.

What is so striking about early Georgian architecture, is its clean lines and classic scaling. It is characterized by its proportion and balance; simple mathematical ratios were used to determine the height of a window in relation to its width or the shape of a room as a double cube. Large windows, imposing doors and parapets that hide the edge of the roof, all force the eye up off the ground and create a sense of symmetry. When they are placed next to each other and stretch for blocks, as on Fitzwilliam Street, the effect is so dramatic that you can see how the beauty of such precise and streamlined architecture could speak to our modern and contemporary sensibilities.

Ken Shuttleworth

Ken Shuttleworth designed this gorgeous piece of modern architecture in 1996 to replace the family weekend cottage in Wiltshire, England.

The house consists of two crescents that are placed side by side with a gallery space in between. The main crescent consists of a wall of curving glass that faces the garden, with an open plan living, dining, recreation area. Behind it, the other crescent consists of five bedrooms with a solid wall to the rear.




The gentle curve of the glass lends itself to the rural landscape, almost as if two arms were extending into it. Its shape also shields the garden from the wind. Apparently, deer, badgers, pheasants and foxes wander right up to the glass.

Lincoln House

Last year's spring/summer issue of the Harvard Design Magazine had a fascinating article on Lincoln House designed and built by Mary Otis Stevens and Thomas F. McNulty in 1965 and sadly, demolished in 2001. Intrigued by the story, I searched the web for more information and images of the house and found that it has almost no web presence. Shocked by this sad omission from the digital universe, I have decided to give it some exposure in this post.

Built in Lincoln, Massachusetts for Stevens, McNulty and their three sons, the house was a revolutionary piece of domestic architecture. Work and living spaces were not separated, and almost all interior doors were eliminated as privacy and separation were given through the curvature of the walls.

All of the walls were free-standing elements made from a high lime content cement that gave a marble-like finish when cured. Each wall was connected to the next by a glass panel, and each glass panel opened out onto the surrounding landscape.

In Stevens words, “The curves were throwing you out rather than holding you in. Each projected its energy into nature. We used the invisible power of the concave walls to relate the building beyond its site to the woods and fields of rural Lincoln—and beyond to the universe itself.”


The house was placed on a north-south axis, so that on a sunny day a streak of light would shoot down the stairs and extend its length and, as the day wore on, finds its way along the hallway leading to the children's area.

The overall design has a beautiful feeling of movement; from inside to outside and room to room, and speaks volumes about what was to come with open concepts and communal spaces. It is so sad that a house like this could be lost so easily, as it represents a fascinating period in modern residential architecture that has only now reached mass popularity.

Think Tank

While writing my last post on funky cottage furniture, I began to think about one of my favourite designs for a lakeside cottage. Think Tank, by Gumuchdjian Architects, was designed as a birdwatching lakeside retreat for a private client near Skibberreen, County Cork.



What is striking about this building is the simplicity of its structure and its beautiful integration with the surrounding landscape. The project was a collaboration with a local builder, who used mainly local materials, and a specialist contractor. Environmental concerns were a huge consideration given the sensitive location and the goals of the client and architect to create a building that had minimal impact on the landscape.

Glass walls are broken in large squares that provide almost 360 degrees views of the lake and countryside. Cedar slats provide shade and screening, while at the same time continue the horizontal lines that are echoed along the pier. The choice of a pitched roof evokes local boathouses and barns and gives it a historic context.



It looks as if it was always meant to be there and always will.

Post and Beam

Growing up in Vancouver, one of my earliest influences in modern design was Post and Beam residential architecture. During the 1950s and 60s, they were celebrated inside and outside Canada for the way in which they related to the spectacular scenery and temperate climate of the West Coast.

Sitting on rocky outcrops, in between large cedar and fir trees, their streamlined edges seemed to become part of the landscape and at the same time add their own unique form; both complementing each other without being overwhelmed.

Perhaps given the era, not much thought was given to the practicalities of insulation and energy efficiency and, combined with being sadly misunderstood, many of these amazing houses have disappeared or been badly altered during refurbishment.

maxFUS

Belgian architect and designer Karel Vandenhende has created an apartment that is completely interactive. He calls his system maxFUS (free undefined space).




Walls , which are also storage cupboards, can be moved around to completely alter your living area. Chairs, tables and beds are all on castors. Nothing is fixed.




He has also designed furniture that can flip and fit into different functions. For example, a desk could turn into a dining table, desk or chair.




In a world where we are increasingly defined by what we purchase, where we seem to all march to the same marketing drum, I am increasingly interested in the idea that we can interact with these products and the environment that we place them in. That they don't define us, but we define them.

Perhaps even more importantly, is that with this type of design, they could last and not become a part of an endless cycle of the desire for new. Smaller objects could come and go, but the overall structure would be lasting; as it could change with your tastes, needs and whims over time.

Dream House

My favourite residential architect is Tom Kundig. I find his ability to combine raw, industrial elements into elegant residential structures simply breathtaking. These houses are not ethereal, pristine and glossy works of glass and steel, where residences feel like museums; they are buildings grounded in the earthy mechanics of everday.

For example:

Concrete walls expose the lines of wood forms.

A modern stainless steel kitchen will have doors that swing open on large metal wheels.

Fireplaces look as if they were salvaged from turn of the century factories.

Quirky domestic elements are added so that you could not help but feel at home. Everything can be touched, opened and closed.



The overall design combines the interior and exterior seemlessly, as if these houses were always meant to be there.

Incredibly elegant design that ties itself to the earth and landscape...

with a good sense of humour. ("You'll have lots of time to rest when you're six feet under")