In the current economy, and with growing awareness of green concepts, it seems the desire for "big" houses is on the decline.  This gives architects and remodelers an exciting opportunity and challenge: to make smaller houses live "large".

          To me, a house should be tailored so that every square inch has purpose and usefulness in the daily life of its inhabitants.  This concept is critically important in smaller homes.  In the next couple of blogs, I will discuss different ideas and methodologies to customize your home, and maximize the utility of its space.

Repurposing under utilized space:

          I thought I would start with an example (my own home); I had a formal dining room that we used 2-3 times a year at best.  I came to realize that we were wasting this valuable square footage in our home, so I repurposed the room.  Installing a wall of built-ins, I created a space for the family computer, with a mixture of concealed storage and bookcase / display shelves.  I took the leaves out of the dining room table so it would comfortably seat 4 (previously it seated 8-10) and repositioned it against a wall in the room to maintain natural circulation paths.  The remaining 4 chairs were dispersed into other parts of the house.  The dining room is now used daily for craft projects with the kids, for surfing the net on the computer, or for browsing through an ever growing stack of magazines.  The 2-3 times a year we need it for formal dining; with a few minutes of straightening up and minor rearrangement of the furnishing, it still serves its original purpose, and the new built-ins are perfect for serving.

           I added 168 square feet of useful space to my home without changing its footprint.  Repurposing a room is a great way to reclaim the under utilized spaces within your home.  In my case, the combination of formal dining and a library / office space made perfect sense. If you have a space like this in your home, maybe its time to stop thinking about what it is, and start thinking about what else it could be.

Check back in for future installments of "Adding space without adding space"

#3 IN AN OCCASIONAL SERIES:

It looks like that 1960's contemporary in Chevy Chase is going to get a new roof and a new lease on life!  I am very happy for the homeowners, because the roofing contractor has agreed to tear-off  his new roof as well as the old roof beneath, and replace everything from scratch, to my specifications.  That's the right thing to do and I applaud him for stepping-up -- particularly because it is going to be very expensive for him.

Even so, the homeowner has spent money for structural restoration work that could have been avoided, if only the roof had been properly installed.  Not to mention the cost of my time in diagnosing the problems and negotiating the solution.  If there is any silver lining, it is that we caught the problem before it spread into the living space.  And we will take advantage of this opportunity to increase the insulation of the roof and greatly reduce heating and cooling costs in the long-run.  Still, it was an expensive lesson for my clients I'm afraid; but given the enormity of the problem it is a pretty good resolution and I'm glad I could help.

If a room feels too big; architectural treatment of the ceiling and floor planes might be incorporated to create different zones within the space.  If a room feels too small; large window openings and strategic removal of vertical wall surfaces offer new views and a sense of openness. 

Scale can also establish a hierarchy and create focal points.  Like a road map, inhabitants and guests are lead by these architectural cues, and drawn through the spaces of a home.  Proper understanding and manipulation of scale informs every decision that goes into a successful design.

That room you walked into earlier... the one that seemed a bit off.  Imagine how differently it would feel with large windows that flood the space with sunlight.  A boxed bay widens the room creating a niche for the couch, restoring the natural circulation paths into and through the room.  Adjustments like this have the power to modify your perception of a space, redefining its scale.

#2 IN AN OCCASIONAL SERIES

Well, I was up on the roof of that 1960's contemporary in Chevy Chase, MD again yesterday, and the problem is MUCH worse than I imagined.  In addition to water vapor questions, we now know that the roof is actively leaking at every skylight (there are ten) and at the chimney.

In every case, the problem is faulty "flashing" - the material (aluminum, copper or bituminous membrane) used to protect joints between the main roofing material and the various items that pass through the roof.  Now, I've seen a lot of roof problems over the years, but this beats them all, hands down. 

We cut test holes into the flashings and water just poured out.  Not a little trickle, but like when someone cuts an artery; the water spurted-out in streams.  In twenty five years as a residential architect, I've never seen such a total failure of roof flashing. 

This bears a quick note about flashing; in all roofing systems, flashing is inherently the the most vulnerable link because it manages the joint where the main roofing material is interrupted by something else -- like skylights, pipes, chimneys, etc.  Roofs rarely leak in the main body of the roof, but more often leak at these joints, where flashing is the primary defence.  Faulty flashing = leaky roof. 

And a word in defense of skylights:  to paraphrase the NRA, "Skylights don't leak on people -- People (installing bad flashing) leak on people".  Most modern skylights are so water-tight you could use one for a boat.  And properly designed and installed flashing WILL NOT LEAK.   So don't shy away from skylights; but DO invest in quality and make sure a true professional is in charge of specifying and supervising the installation.

Final thoughts... Do not hire a roofing contractor just because a friend had a good experience with them.  That's just putting your fate in the law of averages - and sometimes you'll wind up on the wrong side of that average.

I am often asked if it makes sense to remodel a home in phases; and the answer is an unequivocal... it depends. 

On one hand, there are some great deals to be had today while the remodeling market is depressed; you'll get more for your money now than you will later when the market recovers. And it always costs more to build a project in parts than it does to build it all at once.  Think "economy of scale".

One the other hand, there's plenty of situations where phasing the work is a good way, if not the only way, to go.  As an architect devoted to residential remodeling, I'm seeing a strong up-tick in people taking this course lately. 

So here are a few issues that commonly factor-in when considering a phased renovation:

• Timing - A smaller project can finish sooner.  If you have a baby on the way, that's a strong motivator!
• Financing - If you are funding your renovations with a home equity loan, you might first want to tackle projects that deliver the maximum boost in home value.  Then the house will re-appraise at a higher value, your equity will increase, and you can tap that new equity for the next phase.
• Uncertainty - For any number of reasons, people are sometimes unsure if they want to commit to the entire project now; but they still want to get something done and feel like they're "moving ahead".

Many of my clients in the older neighborhoods of Washington DC and surrounding suburbs (Bethesda, Chevy Chase, Potomac, etc) choose this path with great results.  But the critical step is to first develop a "Master Plan" -- a vision of what you want the home to eventually be, and how you are going to get there. 

This bears repeating: YOU NEED A MASTER PLAN!  Do not try this yourself at home -- someone's gonna get hurt.   Seriously, you can waste a ton of money if the phases are not thoughtfully planned with an eye on the big picture.  A small up-front investment in architectural design will reap huge dividends.

#1 IN AN OCCASIONAL SERIES

I was up on a client's roof in Chevy Chase the other day (this is what an architect does for relaxation) when I ran into my old nemesis - the phrase "That's how we always do it", and I was reminded yet again of the infinite  ways that homes can be tragically damaged by ignorance - even by those who are well meaning.

Houses are complex; they are living, breathing organisms that stretch, shrink, vibrate, and sweat - just like people.  But too many architects, contractors, and homeowners don't understand the science behind houses and what keeps them healthy.  All too often, they use a stock answer to solve a unique problem.

In this case a roofer installed a new built-up roof over an existing one, not realizing that his new roof would act like shrink wrap and trap moisture beneath it.  He didn't think through the particular needs of this 1960's contemporary, with heavy timber beams and exposed roof decking, which served as the ceiling for the house. 

Humid air from inside the house was rising through the roof deck, through the old roofing via thousands of nail holes made when installing the new over-roof.  Here the moisture condensed into water and seeped back through the many holes into the structure below.  Gradually the water collected at the eaves, where it rotted the roof decking and the heavy timber beams. 

I was looking at a total failure of a 4-year old roof as well as heavy damage to the underlying roof structure.  The repair will be complex and expensive, but the real tragedy is that it was completely avoidable.   When I asked one of the roofers why they installed the roof this way, he uttered the dreaded phrase "That's how we always do it".  But most installations of this type of roof occur over a ventilated attic - not over a cathedral ceiling of exposed timber frame - and that difference is everything.

Washington, DC and the older suburbs of Bethesda and Chevy Chase are home to an astonishing variety of house types, each with particular problems and needs.  So the next time you hear "That's how we always do it", call an expert.  It's never that simple.

You've seen it.  In almost every older neighborhood someone is tearing-down a modest home to make way for another McMansion,  insensitive to the scale of the surrounding homes, and sticking out like a sore thumb.  Putting aside the social implications of this "screw the neighbors" attitude -- and forgetting about the incredible waste of resources -- these folks are just plain missing the opportunity for a much richer living environment.  

Instead of building an unimaginative and over-inflated box, why not recycle the structure of an existing house - searching for the best aspects of it and incorporating them into an updated "New-Old House"?  The cool thing about this is that the compromises inherent in recycling an old structure force us to be more creative; a "New-Old House" is always quirkier and more romantic than a sanitized new home tends to be.

Before & After:

This approach especially lends itself to older, close-in neighborhoods with an eclectic mix of housing styles.  A Cape Cod might transform into an Arts & Crafts Cottage, a Dutch Colonial into an Italianate Villa - even a Rambler into an English Cottage like the one shown here.  It always amazes me that the seeds of these "New-Old Houses" lurk in the souls of the everyday homes that surround us.

Our client - a single female professional - purchased an old rambler on a hillside lot overlooking the Potomac River; but the house practically ignored the landscape. It made no attempt to take advantage of the extraordinary site - in fact this house could have been in a subdivision just about anywhere.

In expanding and re-considering the design of this home, we took the opportunity to create a cottage that reaches out into the landscape and enfolds the homeowner in nature. Ample windows and/or doors on at least two sides of each room provide panoramic views at every turn, while the mass of the house is broken-down into smaller components, ensuring that the house is "of" the hill rather than on it. It is a magical thing to float above the azaleas, among the trees.

Before & After:

THEY DON'T BUILD THEM LIKE THAT ANYMORE!

I love that phrase.  It usually escapes from a new client, when we are touring another client's just-finished renovation.   Sometimes we're admiring an exquisitely crafted stair railing or mantelpiece.  Or it might be a lovely paneled portal or a fabulous cast iron grille.  My personal favorite was a pocket-screen-door, that disappeared into the wall, next to a front door.  In each case, my new client pauses and looks wistfully at some such detail and observes "They don't build them like that anymore."  It's the sort of detail that they don't expect to find in today's construction... except we've just built it!

That's one of the most satisfying moments for me.  I'm always so proud of our carpenters and architects, for refusing to give in to the myth that true craftsmanship is not achievable today; there's simply no reason why that should be so.  Instead, I'd argue that given the enormous technological advances of our time, homeowners should expect new renovations and additions to be both designed and constructed better than an older home.