Direct from the wee urban planners of Mrs. Burger’s second grade class at Bear Creek Elementary School comes a new vision of city living:
The small, tall buildings are individual houses and the city is divided into distinct neighborhoods, each with its own collection of civic buildings – police station, fire station, airport, library, and because this is Boulder: the recycling center and Humane Society. Actually the substructure of each building is a milk carton and the whole thing is a creative re-use project, making art (and urbanism) out of the collected used milk and juice cartons of the class.
(Boulder’s anti-density, NIMBYs might note that Icicle City is quite nice and the density is quite high – even 8 year olds know that much)
A weekend of working through a lot of drawings has put me hopelessly behind on the Reverb 10 project. Catching up may not be possible, but in the midst of many studio hours logged over the last few days, I have been thinking about Friday’s prompt:
Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year
I am working on a design for a house for a couple who lost their house in the recent Fourmile Fire west of Boulder. The first time I was going to meet them at their burned-out house, in that devastated landscape, I went up a bit early to give myself some time to react to the aftereffects of the fire without embarassing myself, without letting the sadness of the scene overwhelm me.
Looking at these now, I can still vividly recall the dry, blowing ash, the snow-crunch under foot of glass, embers and debris. And of course the somber black of the trees and landscape and the desiccated whiteness of hard-baked drywall. But most of all, the smell of smoke that lingered in my car for week. I have a small piece of broken, melted glass from the fire in my office and just looking at it recalls that smoke, acrid and merciless.
I am very excited to be working on a new house project for a couple who lost their house in the recent Fourmile Canyon fire just west of Boulder. I feel deeply for their loss – years of mementos, photos, etc. all lost, not to mention the house itself, the repository of years of memories and events. So it is kind of odd for me to be happy working on a project that stems, to some extent, from a great sadness. But I can’t help it, I love to make buildings, to sit down with folks, listen to their stories, their dreams and thoughts and try to give form to those explicit and implicit desires.
The design we are working on tries to balance the centrifugal forces that are directed toward magnificent mountain panoramic views with the centripetal forces that focus on a courtyard and the internal landscape of the house.
These are some relatively early views of SketchUp model of the project. SketchUp is a great tool and its integration with Google Earth allows us to upload the model and place it in the actual topography and verify view corridors to specific sites – in this case, a distant view east to Denver and extensive views west and south to the mountains.
While I would probably never give up the tools of physical models, sketches, plans, etc., the use of SketchUp is a powerful tool that might tempt one away from such traditional design methods. It can in fact be a bit difficult to remember that even though we can make a fully rendered model of the project that we can walk through, view furniture and the light streaming in, that we have not completed the design of the project. We may have crafted the space and maybe even captured some of the touch and feel of the building, but we hardly even touched the larger and more difficult task of detailing the structure. Every eave, every handrail, every window mutin has yet to be drawn and studied. As my friend David Leary says, it’s a marathon, not a sprint.
Along with 170 or so houses, there was at least one barn lost in the recent Fourmile Fire. It was not remarkable or even functional, with walls falling apart and a partial roof. It stood by its self in a little field right along Sunshine Canyon Drive, a visible and much loved signpost along the road.
The fire burned up from Fourmile Canyon to the north and east, over the ridge that is Sunshine Canyon Drive and partially down the other side. There was a very controlled line just west of the Bald Mountain parking area but this barn was lost on the east side of that. I don’t know exactly how it happened but the burn immediately around barn indicates that a few embers probably caught the old, dry wood of the barn and the flames were contained.
This barn marked the turnoff from Sunshine Canyon Drive that was the access road to a project I designed and that I visited frequently during construction. A couple times a week for about three years, I watched this barn slowly, almost imperceptibly, fall down while our project was building up. And, like many architects, the barn held a fascination for me that took me into the falling structure to poke around and take dozens of photos. The beautiful, simply structure housed a couple of old rotten-stuffing upholstered chairs, a stove, and a whole army of rusty cans and pails.
And now, the site holds only the memory of that old barn. No one will rebuild it, or ever could recreate the strange and intriguing air that floats around inside abandoned buildings.
As an extension of the thoughts in Part One, I would like to talk about some of the possible architectural responses to local geology and climate discussed in the previous post. What is of interest here is how these responses may combine to create a body of work that expresses a kind of regionalism without regard to specific building form or style. Below are descriptions of the types of architectural responses that might be found in the Rocky Mountains and when synthesized in various combinations, may describe a kind of regionalist architecture. I have included some photos from a house I designed a couple of years ago to possibly demonstrate the architectural response to a given condition.
The seasonal expansion and contraction of our local soils and the ability to point load on granite might drive a design to be more expressive of post-and-lintel type construction than continuous wall construction as is typical. This is obviously very dependent on exact, specific soil conditions and may not express itself in all projects.
Because of the intensity of the sun and general aridity of the mountain West, the roof is often used more as a shading device than a rain protector. This results in large overhangs which create a kind of interstitial space between the interiority of the building and the purely uncovered exterior space of the landscape. This middle space of covered outdoor space may also become more formalized as covered terraces or balconies.
Another resultant of the intense solar gain is its effect on building materials. Untreated wood, left exposed for even a short period, will quickly splinter and decay. Even when treated, the UV rays of the sun quickly breakdown most stains and paints, making wood a relatively short-lived building material especially when compared to the centuries-old timbers and siding of East Coast houses.
Lastly, the infrequency of rain also coincides with an abundance of sunny days, around 300 or so per year. Given the general altitude of much of the mountain west, that means that even on a freezing day, a pleasant afternoon can be spent on an outside terrace in direct sunlight. So, like many California modernist houses, this creates the ability to live outside for much of the year, although this tends to be more for winter afternoons and summer mornings rather than purely seasonally determined.
Windy, dry conditions
The combination of occasionally fierce winds and frequently very low humidity creates many days of red-flag fire danger days. These conditions, combined with the intense solar gain, quickly deteriorates wood, making it even more susceptible to even the smallest falling ember. This may make a strong case for eliminating exposed wood from building exteriors and using much more fire-resistant materials like stone and metals. Abundant native stone, both granites and sandstones, would reinforce this regional material usage preference.
As a possible corollary to the windy, dry conditions listed above is the extreme aridity experienced on the east side of the Continental Divide. Most of our streams and rivers are charged with snow melt, not rainfall, and the storage of water and its conservation has written much of the history of Western land use. As differentiated from the damp Midwest or East Coast, the lawns of typical houses are irrigated and with growing awareness of the scarcity of water resources, xeriscaping has become the preferred method for treating the land in the spaces between buildings. These xeriscaped areas are marked not by low, gound-hugging grasses like prototypical “lawns”, but are combinations of native bushes and tall grasses. Because of this variety and size of plantings, a building in the mountain West does not sit on a generic, de-natured green tableau but is a built moment in a continuous landscape of native plants. The building does not sit within its own domesticated space of green lawn, but either interfaces directly with “wilderness” or must use other architectural devices to establish this domesticated zone of semi-public, semi-private space.
I am sure there are a lot of other buildings in the mountain West that demonstrate the same or similar responses to these conditions. In a future post I will try to find classes of other examples that span many different architectural styles but have in common these traits, including vernacular architectures.
Older cemeteries within the city are some of the most interesting urban structures. Almost every city has at least one remaining cemetery sitting in what has become a vital part of the city. This doesn’t compare to the number of cemeteries that are moved by municipal authorities as they have become surrounded by houses and shops and their land value has greatly exceeded their cultural and historic value. Paradoxically, what “saves” most old cemeteries is often not their status as hallowed ground nor their famous inhabitants, but the nature of the living “park” that the cemetery has become. Nature trumps culture.
On a recent visit to Boulder’s Columbia Cemetery, what is most striking, even more so than the poignancy of the small, worn gravestones, was the use of the necropolis as a place for dog-walking, strolling and making out. A fairly lively place.
I had thought I would write a post about the architecture of the cemetery, its layout and the different neighborhoods that make up place – military graves in one corner, older stones tightly spaced, etc. However, amongst the throngs of running dogs, cellphone squawking talkers and huddle lovers, it was more difficult to study this than I had imagined.
Unlike the cemeteries of the older East Coast cities and Chicago that I have visited, Columbia is not full of the ornate sculptural markers of pre-Raphaelite angels and mourning cloths. It does have plenty of simple, modest markers signalling maybe a simple life, simply lived, one of so many.
So normally I would suggest a visit to your local cemetery, to walk around the markers and spend a quiet afternoon. But don’t go for that. It is really too crowded with the living to pay attention to the dead. In Boulder, go to the cemetery – go and enjoy a nice park without runners, without cyclists, without cross-training tri-athletes, without any “sports” at all except the eternal battle of dog versus squirrel.
In Boulder, like many other cities, there are a number of historic districts designed to save the architecture of individual buildings but also the overall look and feel of a neighborhood. In addition to this kind of district-based preservation, there are programs to save individual buildings where the immediate neighborhood may not justify a district designation or there is just too much homeowner resistance to the idea. In Boulder, the program to preserve single buildings is called Individual Landmark Designation and the criteria are in line with many other such programs across the nation.
What is abundantly clear as espoused in almost every public meeting, is why in the world would anyone want to have their building designated in that way and held to the close scrutiny for any changes in the future. I would like to describe some of the benefits of this kind of individual landmark designation:
Tax Credits. There are state tax credits available for approved renovations to designated properties. These credits can be applied for work to rehab the exterior siding, roofing, windows, and other exterior details. Maybe most applicable however, is that these credits can be gained for upgrading interior systems as well – electrical, heating, cooling, etc.
Commercial tax credits. These are similar as those described above, but are federal tax credits and are only available for commercial properties. However, residential rental properties are eligible. As Boulder moves forward with its SmartRegs ordinance requiring the upgrading of energy systems for residential rental units, these kinds of tax credits may apply and greatly offset some of the costs of complying.
Sales Tax Credits. Local sales taxes for building materials can be waived if the materials represent at least 30% of the value of the materials are for the building’s exterior.
State Grants. If sponsored by a local municipality, some renovation costs may be paid for from a grant fund from the Colorado State Historical fund. The Boulder Landmarks Board reviews and often approves this type of request as a benefit to building owners as an incentive for preservation.
Regulatory relief. As Boulder has layered more restrictive requirements on the development of properties in the city, the potential of this aspect of preservation has become more important. Anyone owning an individually landmarked building can petition the Landmarks Board to approve their proposed changes even though some of the new work may be in violation of the Solar Shadow ordinance, zoning requirements, the new Compatible Development regulations like bulk planes, and even some aspects of the International Building Code.
And the negatives of individual landmark designation:
Alterations. If your building is individually landmarked, then any changes you might like to make to the building will have to be reviewed by either the Historic Preservation staff or the Landmarks Board. This is not as painful or fear-inducing as it might appear at first. Most all changes can be reviewed and approved with a simple sit down meeting with staff and the Design Review Committee of the Landmarks Board. These are casual meetings held every Wednesday where the homeowner, staff and committee members talk over the project, discuss the merits and make suggestions, and often approve the changes right away. Major changes, like partial demolitions and major additions, take longer to work through and the committee and staff can usually provide advice to make the project better while still preserving the building and meeting the desires of the homeowner.
Demolition. An individually landmarked building can not be demolished unless proven unsafe for use and/or habitation. This may limit some future speculator’s designs on your property, but did you really want your legacy in the neighborhood to be new McMansion down the street.
Costs. Unlike so many taxes and fees, the costs for applying for individual landmark designation is crazy cheap – $25 bucks.
So, if you love your house, if you don’t plan on demolishing it, it might be eligible for designation. And this is not a program for only those grand old Victorian houses, but for anything that has some architectural or historical significance, including mid-century modernist buildings and the odd, quirky structures that give Boulder its architectural character. What is missing from Boulder’s list of individually designated buildings are those wonderful, sometimes odd, buildings and houses designed in the 1950’s and 60’s when Boulder came into its own as a place of scientific excellence, environmental consciousness and progressive ideals. Those buildings, designed by Charles Haertling, James Hunter, Hobie Wagner, Jacques Hampton and others reflect not so much a specific style copped from the East Coast, but the individual desires of their clients and the liberating topography of the West. These buildings, beyond their architectural brillance, represent the best of what Boulder is and still strives to be. And we should honor these buildings and their spirit by preserving their essence and ensuring that our kids will come to know Boulder by these buildings and not the newly minted McMansions of generic neighborhoods.
That title may seem like an oxymoron to some folks but the reality is that Modernism as a philosophy and style of architecture is about 100 years old. The national standard for the consideration of historic and architectural significance is 50 years old or greater. More importantly, with the passage of time we have seen that mid-century modern homes and other buildings, once the objects of scorn, are now eagerly sought after and enthusiastically restored. Arapahoe Acres in Denver is the best local example of mid-century residential development but there are so many individual buildings not recognized or protected.
There are three major reasons why these buildings, often beautifully designed and extremely well-built, are so frequently on the roles of demolitions. The first is simple house size. The average size house has doubled since the 1950s and of course so have buyer’s expectations. Most folks are no longer willing to share a single bathroom or live with 8′ x 10′ bedrooms. And these mid-century modern homes certainly do not have the swelling show kitchens of newer builder homes.
The second reason is familiarity. Most folks in the United States now recognize the need and desire for preserving some portions of our architectural past. The frankly fetishistic preservation of every Victorian shack knows no bounds. However, so many of us find it hard to believe that the small, cramped houses that we grew up in can have any lasting architectural value that the temptation is to demolish these buildings blinded as we are by our own myopic histories. Not many of us were raised in the grand Victorian houses that represent so much of historic districts across the country. They seem like sentinels of a better time and place – large, spacious rooms, fine craftsmanship, broad lawns. However, all the crappy, drafty junky shed-like houses and tenements where the vast majority of people lived have been torn down (or fell down on their own). The preserved fine homes of yesteryear are only a very small and select portion of the housing stock of that era. My thoughts would extend as well to the mid-century houses in a similar fashion – save the very best, not all the rest.
The third reason is a phantom – the bogey man of energy efficiency. I am not going to argue that these houses are easy and cost-effective to heat or cool, they are not. But neither are their Victorian cousins with the huge interior volumes and equal lack of insulation. The thin, non-thermally-broken aluminum windows of the 1950s-70s are truly dreadful in both R-value and air infiltration, but the vast majority of a house’s energy loss is through the wall envelope and the windows usually represent no more than 10% of the building’s energy losses. Blowing in insulation in wall cavities, adding it in ceiling/roofs, does far better than replacing windows and is the same need and process for a Modernist house as it for any other style and era of architecture.
As a local example, the City of Boulder has hundreds of individually landmarked buildings in addition to the 10 historic districts (which are largely made up of traditional, non-Modern buildings). Of these hundreds of buildings, there are only about 5 that are Modernist in design and sensibility. Two of them, a house and a multi-family residence, are designed by noted local architect Glen Huntington:
Only one of works of Charles Haertling, Boulder’s finest Modernist architect, is individually landmarked. Few of the houses of James Hunter, Jacques Hampton and many other notable architects are protected although many of these buildings are at least as architecturally significant as so many other protected works. I am not advocating a battle between saving yet another generic Victorian house versus a really fine mid-century masterpiece like the Willard House. Preservation is not a mutually-exclusive game. I am advocating looking at our recent past, to buildings and houses of the 1950’s- 1970’s and carefully assessing their value and meaning and providing some protections for the really great works among them.
The City of Boulder recently unveiled yet another in a series of historic building surveys. This one, on Post World War II residential suburban developments, looked at typical builder suburbs built in Boulder between 1946 and 1967. This survey, like many others in the past, was executed by volunteers and city staff, but largely by a consultant, TEC, Inc., through a Colorado Historical grant.
This massive tome is no small thing. Certainly it is not small in either the size of the survey area – hundreds of houses in ten different suburbs – nor in the compiled results – hundreds of pages of inventory surveys, historical context reporting and addendum. And most importantly maybe, it is no small thing in terms of its public reception. Primarily because of a consultant’s recommendation for the creation of a new historic district, this survey has been met with suspicion at best, if not outright hostility. As a member of the Landmark’s Board who’s job it is to “approve” the survey, I went to a small public meeting and heard a large, clear “No!“. The local residents wanted to make it abundantly clear that they did not in any way want their neighborhoods, full of small builder homes, to join the large Victorian houses of Mapleton Hill and the other historic districts in Boulder.
The historic preservation staff and myself tried to make it very clear that no one had any intention of creating historic districts in Martin Acres or Table Mesa or any of the other suburbs surveyed. On the heels of last year’s Compatible Development regulations, the homeowner’s characterized this survey and its recommendations as yet another unwarranted and unwanted imposition of the City of Boulder’s heavy hand on their homes. What has been discussed is the creation of “character areas” in lieu of historic districts and the lack of a definition of this new category flamed suspicion, and maybe rightly so.
The staff and Landmarks Board do not know what a “character area” is. Or how it would work. Or where it would be applied. The public meeting was a way to solicit some interest in helping to define this nebulous definition, to gauge some passion for a program that might represent a new paradigm in how preservation can work in Boulder.
A character area may be a way of saying, “how can we help you to maintain what you like about your neighborhood”, rather than a phalanx of restrictive regulations. In these cases, the alternative to helping folks maintain their neighborhood is not going to be its protection, but its demolition. If making additions, renovations and changes to your house is made (or has already been made) increasingly difficult, then homeowners will turn to dem0lition as their only viable path. In historic districts, projects are reviewed on an individual, house-by-house process, applying general principles to specific cases. Because of this individual review, if an existing zoning regulation like solar shadow restrictions or bulk planes, creates a condition that is detrimental to the development of the property, within a set of defined guidelines, then the powers that be have the option to waive that regulation. A character area may be a mechanism for expanding what you can do, not defining what you can’t.
And that possibility, the ability of city staff and the board to create more options for your property, not less, is radical indeed and needs some time to sink in. Helping to frame the future’s history is certainly more interesting than regulating history’s future.
On Thursday, September 30th, Boulder County government held another update meeting for homeowners and the design and construction community on the status of potential regulations for rebuilding efforts after the Fourmile fire. The new regulations regarding building permits, site plan review, septic systems and waste disposal were discussed. Most of the meeting was consumed with discussions and complaints about the State of Colorado’s recent clarifications to waste disposal regulations for potentially asbestos containing material.
Cleanup, Demolition & Deconstruction
The State’s latest directive on this will require that buildings that have been completely destroyed by the fire be treated as assuming asbestos contamination. Because of the degraded nature of the building materials, no testing will be sufficient to prove, or disprove, the presence of asbestos containing material. The following procedures will be required:
Materials must be wetted to minimize dust; packaged inside a double 6-mil plastic sheeting liner in an end-dump roll-off with the sheeting completely closed over the material once the roll-off is loaded.
The roll-off can only be taken to designated landfills.
The landfill must be contacted prior to moving the material to confirm waste acceptance and initiate waste profile.
Contractors should consult OSHA regulations to determine required training and personal protective equipment that will be required for those handling this material.
These regulations have only recently (within the last week) issued and have come as quite a surprise to homeowners, contractors and the County. Some folks have already begun filling up roll-offs that may have to be off-loaded and reloaded under the new restrictions. The number of loads will be significantly increased, greatly adding to the cost of cleanup. This is an especially egregious regulation for structures built after 1984 when asbestos was no longer used in building materials.
In addition, metals can be recycled, but must first be “rinsed”. I am not sure at this time if this water would then have to be treated or not.
Foundation removal will require a State demoliton permit.
Deconstruction will not be required although strongly encouraged.
No Boulder County permits or fees are required for cleanup.
Site Plan Review, Building Permitting
There will be three-tier system for rebuilds:
For rebuilding in the same basic location, at the same size and height, no Site Plan Review will be required for 2 years, extending the current regulation from 6 months.
For rebuilding in the same location but adding up to 10% of the existing building area, there will be a 2 week streamlined review process.
For rebuilding in a significantly different location or of larger size or height, the normal Site Plan Review process will be required.
Additional planning items:
The 2009 IRC code will come into effect in January and will be the acting code at that time. All rebuilds will have to meet building codes.
Sprinklers will be required for any structures larger than 3,600 square feet and this provision may change with the adoption of the new codes.
TDCs (Transferable Development Credits) will be available for properties rebuilding under the size threshold.
The County’s BuildSmart program will apply to all rebuilds, although there may be some modification for properties requiring renewables because of a building area trigger.
These planning provisions are not final. A draft of the provisions listed above will be issued next week, presented to Planning Board on October 2oth and the County Commissioners on the 21st. These are public meetings and you should attend if you would like to be heard.