The Ballad of Doris & Harry

When I was a child my parents would take us kids up to Vero Beach to visit their friends Doris & Harry. The Petersons were snow birds that would escape the Chicago winters by migrating to Florida after the leaves turned. They had quite a nice little setup in the Sunshine State that by today's standards would be considered a green community. All the residents of this eco-village rode around in electric vehicles, there were plenty of activities within walking distance, all the homes were single level yet there was high density, and the structure of all these homes were made of recyclable materials. This is the future we are striving for today and these pioneers of green had already achieved it in 1976 down in Vero Beach, Florida.

If you're laughing you probably already know the punchline, but you also know I'm telling the absolute truth. Or, considering the habits of our dear friends, I should say Absolut truth. The morning visits always started with a little hair of the dog for the grownups and some apple pie for my sister and me.

For those of you wondering where this hippie commune is and whatever became of it I hate to disappoint you but it was a campground. Doris & Harry had a motorhome, a classic Georgie Boy Cruise Air, they would keep in Florida as their vacation home. They'd put the RV and golf cart in storage when they went back up north thus keeping their expenses low. The campground catered to snowbirds and had a clubhouse with pool and exercise facility, multi-purpose room for parties and games of bridge, as well as a convenience store. Not every daily need was within the commune, but there was enough. What happens in places like these is that a support network forms and as part time residents become permanent residents they support and help each other. There would be scheduled shopping trips and outings for those who needed assistance.

The RVs were made of aluminum or wood frame with aluminum siding. Fiberglass wasn't as prevalent back then. The steel chassis could also be reclaimed and you could always sell your wheels and axles. I seriously doubt the carpet or cabinetry was made of recyclable materials, but they had a pretty good head start on the rest of us. Everybody had a car but preferred to ride around in their golf carts. They were more fun and granted the right-of-way as a courtesy, not because of bylaw. This was clean living.

The materials and technologies have not gone away. The planning techniques and marketing strategies are still valid. If anything there have been marked improvements in all the thinking that afforded Doris & Harry a relaxing, active, and luxurious lifestyle. Their campsite was just a scaled down sideyard lot, their porch was a screen room, their town center was the clubhouse.
Today we're told that manufactured housing will lead to sustainable homes at affordable prices.
It already has.

Today we're told that battery powered vehicles will be used for short trips close to home.
They certainly did.

Today we're told that walkable communities are the wave of the future.
They certainly were.

So let's raise a glass, preferably a Bloody Mary, and toast these pioneers of green.

I miss Doris & Harry, may they rest in peace.

Posted via email from Kenneth Hitchens

Teratology :: The Sliding Scale of Taste

I grew up in south Florida in the 1970's. Many of the "established" neighborhoods near me were built in the 1950's and the commercial buildings were textbook examples of modernist design. While the residential neighborhoods were maintained and remain desirable locations, the commercial structures fell into disrepair and became blight. These structures were either demolished or abandoned by the mid '80's and those that remained served as totems reminding others of the failed experiment that had taken place not that long ago.

These empty structures also dragged down the surrounding properties. They were quirky, eye catching designs when first built, but weren't suited to adaptation due to their cartoonish forms. This meant the only value for the property was land value and the existing structure would have to be torn down in order to be useful. For the next several decades these ruins rotted in the sunlight waiting for the day they would meet the wrecking ball.

Whereas I grew up in a garden of modernist eyesores whose fifteen minutes faded fast, some of my friends grew up in traditional towns in the northeast or midwest that more closely mirrored the visions of America seen in movies and on TV. I loved the neighborly feel, sense of place, and connectedness that their hometowns offered. Yet they felt repressed claiming that an overbearing orthodoxy and closed cramped spaces that didn't suit their needs. They instead loved the wide open architecture and indoor/outdoor living of my home town. A classic case of the grass being greener on the other side.

While I was intrigued by modernism and the post moderns while I was in college, I returned to more traditional forms in my practice. Perhaps witnessing the failure of so many modern designs affected my subconscious. I did have a tendency to prefer clean and simple designs over the ornate. Don't get me wrong, I quite like the dark, wood paneled parlor with the proper treatment of the wall as an order. Few spaces are more satisfying for quiet contemplation with a single malt and a fine cigar. Yet there is a part of my youth that remains which also enjoys those bright spaces and indoor/outdoor living with clean simple lines. 

I had an opportunity to work in some fairly interesting geographies so far which have provided ample opportunity to test different design directions. Some of these places were stuck in the 1950's and will soon be dealing with the same problem of useless failed structures just like we Floridians did back in the '80's. Others, not understanding the true value proposition of traditional design, have instead decided to sell nostalgia and have completely alienated an entire generation of home buyers by giving them the small cramped spaces they hated as children.

In my travels, however, I did happen to see a glimmer of hope. I've seen many Classically trained architects opening up their floor plans and eliminating muntins providing a truly beautiful modern aesthetic enhanced greatly by their deft use of proportion and refined detailing. I have also noticed many modern architects moving away from the post structuralist nightmares towards more formal plans with color and texture selections that create a warm, inviting interior.

The style wars will rage on, but in the not too distant future I think we will see an architecture that can be thoroughly modern and still sit comfortably next to its neighbors. I've been working on one such design for my family and will be taking the wraps of it hopefully soon.

Posted via email from Kenneth Hitchens