Open House & Art Exhibition Figure. Flora. Flight.

Daniel E. Bollman, AIA
& Amanda Harrell-Seyburn, Associate AIA

Invite You to Join Us to 
Celebrate the New Home of  


201 1/2 E. Grand River Avenue #2
East Lansing, MI 48823

Drinks. Food Art.

June 3, 2016  I  5:00-8:00 PM

Figure. Flora. Flight.
an Exhibition of Watercolors by Lisse Williams

Eye Candy and Eyesore of the Week

About six months ago, I began writing a regular feature for the Lansing City Pulse.  Accepting the assignment that had been undertaken by a colleague, I now write the "Eye Candy of the Week,"  which highlights "some of the nicer properties in Lansing" and the Greater Lansing area.  The feature alternates weeks with "Eyesore of the Week," featuring some of the less desirable properties in the area.  

An archive of the writing may be found at lansingcitypulse.com.  In addition, my favorties features will be reprinted here on a regular basis.  This week's Eye Candy is the Mount Hope Cemetery in Lansing.

http://www.lansingcitypulse.com/lansing/article-10044-eyecandy-of-the-week.html

The Next Generation

As the Co-chair of MHPN’s Education Committee, the subject of connecting with the next generation of preservationists is a heartfelt issue for me. On a recent trip to Scotland with my wife and two daughters, I considered my efforts to teach my own children about preservation, history and architecture. As we traveled, we naturally sought those locations that attract children: playgrounds, zoos and amusement parks. We even had afternoon tea on a steam train. But we also visited sites of architectural interest, including cairns, castles and cathedrals.

Too often, I suspect that we accept that visits to historic castles (not to mention battlefields or prehistoric stone rings) will not interest our children. As with the symphony or ballet, we presume they will take little interest in these outwardly adult activities until they are older. In doing so, we are missing the opportunity to teach them the value of seemingly outdated resources. Therefore, I would suggest that the first step is to take a chance and simply introduce them to these important “sites, buildings, structures and objects.”

Just as we have found with the Network’s educational activities, the availability of age-specific learning materials at the historic sites we visited was invaluable. Naturally, many of the exhibits were text heavy, but instead of disregarding them, we either read short passages to our daughters or helped our six-year old sound out some of the more interesting stories. In addition, many of the sites included activities that were specifically directed to help with younger visitors, including sound recordings, videos and take-away activity sheets. The period dress-up costumes were consistently popular.

Which is not to say that only the child-friendly exhibits were able to teach. Though I don’t expect my daughters understood the entire story offered in a film regarding Castle Urquhart, even my three year old was able to discern why history has dubbed Britain’s King Edward I, “The Hammer of the Scots.” The film relayed the story of Edward’s army laying siege to the castle and, as it ended, my daughter asked me, “Why is the king evil?”

Following the film, we toured the castle grounds, located on the shore of Loch Ness. Of particular interest was the damaged-yet-accessible Grant tower (shown at left above). We climbed through the foundations of several kitchens, stood in the remains of the dovecot and looked through the castle’s water gate, which once allowed besieged occupants to receive deliveries via the adjacent loch.

As with the castellan’s latrine niche above, the girls were drawn to those building parts and displays that are absent in our modern environment. Drawbridges and low doorways were a common favorite.

This year, the members of the Network’s Board of Directors have been challenged to provide an educational experience to a primary school student in their lives. I will be championing this effort on behalf of the Education Committee, and would welcome stories about how others are teaching the preservationists of the future.

Rock the World

Today, the Rock the World Race hosts its inaugural event in Grand Ledge, Michigan. 'east arbor architecture' is a proud sponsor and enthusiastic partner, joining efforts with Fitzpatrick Structural Engineering to create the vertical obstacles, from the Panama Canal to the Eiffel Tower.



The event also included a small course for future mud-runners.

Ties to the Past

Last week, I had the pleasure of attending a press conference for Preservation Lansing that announced the launch of an award that will recognize exemplary preservation and restoration projects in Lansing. Not coincidently, the announcement was held at the Thelma Joyce Osteen Comfort Station, a delightful building that once had been used as a public restroom for railroad passengers. Recently, the Station was acquired by the Michigan Historic Preservation Network and is being currently restored under the direction of Neumann Smith Architects, in a project where east arbor has taken a supporting role.

While enjoying the success of this new preservation effort, another nearby building caught my attention:

From its appearance and siting, I suspect the building also may have had connections to the railroad, possibly used as an observation platform. Intrigued, I set to finding a way to imbue the wee building with new life and a new use. Given its size and isolated location, I wanted to make it as self-sufficient as possible by employing passive efforts* to heat, light and ventilate the building.

The repurposed building is shown on the left, with the existing building shown for comparison. Subsequent entries will detail a more thorough analysis of the building and its possibilities.

*Is ‘passive efforts’ an oxymoron?

Commodity, not Delight

In response to a threat to a particularly brutal example of Paul Rudolph’s work, the New York Times offered a debate on the value of preservation. The title of the collection, “Are some buildings too ugly to survive?” misses the point. Although I do not subscribe to the notion that beauty is subjective, I can accept that others hold different opinions.

However, the issue surrounding Rudolph’s building is not solely one of beauty. There is a decided irony in the fact that those Modernists who do like the building are now enlisting the aid of preservationists – those whose tactics or sentiments they often mock as being overly emotional.

Appearances aside, one of the primary issues of design is utility – the “Commodity” of Vitruvius’ triad of architectural virtues. If the existing building does not appropriately serve its occupants, can it be modified to do so? Will the so-called purity of the architectural style allow for human driven improvements without destroying the artistic intent? If not, then Commodity suffers for the sake of Delight.

If the architectural style or the effort to freeze that style in time cannot accommodate a homeowner who wishes to build a needed roof over the porch where one never had existed, then either the design was not particularly successful to begin with, or the preservationists’ charge is ill considered. Likewise, if the building does not fit well with its surroundings, by helping to maintain the continuity of the established streetscape, does it really deserve the effort to preserve it?

Home Show wrap-up

Our exhibit at the Lansing Home and Garden Show was pleasantly successful. Following the advice of a trade show expert, the booth was designed to welcome potential clients, while allowing others to self-select the other exhibitors and their services. One potential client included an adventure race organizer with local ties.

The following schematic sketches will be developed into two of the obstacles in the race, which features a variety of famous man-made and natural geographic landmarks.

The race is scheduled for late June, so the development and documentation of the designs will proceed shortly.

Broad sides

As news of the continued delay of the Slash has become widespread, stories about its supporters and detractors have begun to surface. One recent article has focused on the public’s diverging opinions on the work.

While I dislike the building, I am comfortable that others find it acceptable and even welcome its presence. Unlike many of the supporters featured in the article, I refuse to return the name calling or dismissive jabs. Rather than offering support for the building on its own merits, these supporters have resorted to mocking the apparent small-mindedness or cultural myopia of its detractors. If one shames enough people into thinking they will be called quaint, just how many will be willing to express their disdain?

I take exception to the notion that, by opposing the building, I am somehow a Luddite or a “grump.” As a matter of fact, I am a (relatively) “smart, art-appreciating” architect with significant public and private experience in building design and urbanism. Whether someone else is paying for the building is immaterial, for we all must now endure it. That it sits at the foot of my own residential street is additionally galling.

Ultimately, if the community wishes an actual dialog about the building – that is, a discussion that includes two points of view – it serves no purpose to belittle those whose opinion differs from our own. Comments for and against the museum ought to focus on the work itself. I do not believe that the building is objectively good, yet I count many of its supporters as respected colleagues.

I will close with one marginally encouraging anecdote. Recently walking along Grand Avenue with my daughters, it struck me how the museum willfully inserts itself in the existing composition featuring the statues of Cassiopeia and Andromeda, possibly completing the mythological legend. Instead of a sea monster, the chained princess in the median is overshadowed by the equally tactless, overbearing and horrific presence of the museum. If that was its creator’s intent, I say it has succeeded.

Home Show 2012

east arbor architecture will be exhibiting at the Lansing Home and Garden Show from March 15-18, 2012. Stop by and see us at booth #1662.

As of today, the booth design will look like this:

We welcome thoughts about the elegant/authentic; female/male; yin/yang display items. Please leave your ideas in the comments.

The hackneyed McMansion

Caught this story last week regarding Michigan’s sluggish housing market. I thought the in-process home shown in the accompanying photo (shown below) was telling. Its overly complicated floor plan, which indicates a poorly considered design, unnecessarily leads to an increase in construction costs and the resulting increase in sales price.

In contrast, when the layout of the various rooms are considered by a capable designer, the floor plan may be simplified, leading to a corresponding cost savings without an apparent loss of space or privacy.

Additionally, the size of the pictured home, conservatively calculated at 1700 square feet on a single floor, suggests that this will be a very large home. The “design” of the neighboring home suggests the considerable likelihood that the home will occupy two stories. In which case, this house could cost as much as $500,000.

Is it inappropriate to suggest that the slump in housing sales is driven by the building, rather than the banks?

The Slash

Here's a picture of the latest development at the new museum:


I was racking my brain trying to remember where I'd seen that form before. And then it struck me:

Which might explain the long queue of people along Grand River last Friday morning.

Architecture is not an adjective

I found this photo in a collection of purportedly “gorgeous, architecture [sic] inspired rings.”

As a piece of sculpture, I admit that the ring is pleasant enough. But how would it feel to wear a square ring?

Since the collection seems to justify its edgy discomfort on the word “architecture,” it got me wondering how architecture came to mean "deliberately odd or uncomfortable." I suspect the answer to that question can be found in modern architecture itself, since I frequently hear people justify such bad design by claiming - much like the ring - that it is sculptural. Setting aside that I often disagree with that notion, “sculptural” does not always translate as comfortably scaled or well composed, which are essential qualities of good architecture. While I admire Calder’s La Grande Vitesse, I certainly would not want to live or work in it.

Of course, when discussing his chair designs, Wright is to have said, “I have been black and blue in some spot, somewhere, almost all my life from too intimate contacts with my own furniture.” I imagine I’d remember a ring that gave me calluses. More examples can be found here, if you care.

Historic District Standards

A colleague recently sent me an article regarding the Secretary of the Interior’s Standards. The article addresses the common belief that, when modifying a historic building, a clear division between new and old must be established. Typically, this “solution” results in the introduction of a deliberately contrasting element that lacks existing context. However, do to add a like-scaled addition that employs similar materials would introduce a false sense of history.

The article’s author expresses his objections to requiring this bright line between new and old. However, this line of thinking is exactly in keeping with the Standards. At the latest meeting of our Historic District Commission, this very issue was raised regarding a window replacement. The Owner had proposed replacing a picture window on her 1870’s home with an identical unit. It was suggested that such a window would never have been used on the house when it was originally built, since glass panes of the proposed size were difficult if not impossible to obtain. Therefore, another option was proposed: introducing an entirely different arrangement, using a pair of grouped window units.

Some members of the Commission took exception to this, as it violates the following Standards:

3. Each property will be recognized as a physical record of its time, place, and use. Changes that create a false sense of historical development, such as adding conjectural features…will not be undertaken.

4. Changes to a property that have acquired historic significance in their own right will be retained and preserved.

Thus, the modified proposal lacks justification under the Standards. Lacking documentary evidence, a change that purports to introduce (or re-introduce) a speculative detail would be conjecture.

I believe this is ill-advised. In general, I would rule on the side of restoration, rather than preservation, even if specific, direct evidence is not available. As a student of history and a design professional, I believe there is room for other options. We know enough about precedent that we can make reasonable assumptions about “what might have been.” And when other options are not only more historically appropriate, but look decidedly better, we must support them.

More Mordernism

My colleagues are understandably thrilled about the latest (and likely protracted) cause célèbre in preservation: Mid-century Modernism and its Michigan origins. In embracing this distinctive postwar style, I sense they are trying to challenge the misguided presumption that preservationists only appreciate architecture of the early 20th century. The early focus on this era and its representative style allows preservationists to spearhead the effort to highlight the significance of these buildings. Though I am sympathetic to their cause and wholly support broadcasting the Midwestern origins of this movement, I cannot admire Modernism’s merits without noting its corresponding shortcomings.

I recently attended a presentation featuring a house designed in the 1950’s by Herman Miller’s George Nelson. Following the practice of the time, Nelson deliberately detailed the home with minimal trim. Tolerances were deliberately tight; some materials had to be scribed to fit exactly with an irregular, adjacent material. Now, with the passage of time and regular use, the home’s tight finish tolerances have failed. Without constant attention, the inevitable flaws and cracks have become increasingly apparent. Formerly minor imperfections have grown obvious.

By its nature, trim work is intended to cover joints or corners where dissimilar materials meet. Neither criminal nor superfluous, its use is essential to good design. Lacking this simple, commonsense detail, my primary impression of Nelson’s house is how dated it looked. Rather than enjoying a gentle, venerated patina, it is a tired building whose actual habitation and eventual aging were apparently never given consideration. The once “smooth and precious surfaces” that supplied the International Style its charm have been irretrievably lost to time and the elements.

New Construction

Lately, I’ve witnessed repeated resistance by residential builders to the continued use of existing homes. Construction professionals face unprecedented challenges lately and I can fully appreciate the need to market both their business and new product. However, many of the arguments offered in support of new construction are specious. One builders’ representative has tautologically suggested “smaller, distinct rooms make it difficult to entertain guests in one large space.” “Likewise the lack of a swimming pool makes it tricky to invite friends over for a quick dip. And, people living in an urban apartment might find difficulty hosting a cookout,” he did not add.

The unspoken implication is that a Great Room is the only option for a party. The builder continues, “While you are in the kitchen preparing dinner, you can still interact with guests enjoying conversation in the family room without feeling closed off.” For many hosts, a large room works just fine and, unchallenged, one might think it is the only acceptable solution. Of course, it is not the only option and it may not be the best option. Very large rooms deny the opportunity for quieter conversations, as every square foot of available space is exactly the same as the next. There are no quiet corners, nor a mix of light and dark, just identical, featureless space, and lots of it.

We recently threw a party on a pleasant summer day. Many guests sat on the sunny grass in lawn chairs, while others hung about the grill, offering advice to the cook. Some ducked into the garage to escape the sun, while still others retreated into the cool comfort of the house. Even inside, some preferred the din in the Family Room, while others chose the busy Kitchen or the relative quiet of the Living Room. A choice was avalable and people sought the place they preferred.

The builder implies that it is always better to start from scratch to get what you want, rather than making modifications to an existing structure. Builders were recently joined in this error by an ostensible economist, who noted that new homes are “laid out better” and “have better kitchens,” suggesting that, once the house was complete, no changes could be made. It is as if these individuals, in the aim of advancing their world view, have forgotten that existing homes can be remodeled to accommodate modern preferences, at a cost less than that of a new home.

Thelma Joyce Osteen Comfort Station

The National Trust for Historic Places (NTHP) has selected the Michigan Historic Preservation Network as one of the organizations to compete in the 2011 This Place Matters Community Challenge. The contest is intended to start a national conversation about the places that matter in our communities.

The Network has selected the Thelma Joyce Osteen Comfort Station in Old Town, Lansing Michigan as its project. The comfort station, built in the 1920s is a long-vacant historic commercial building in Lansing, Michigan. The building was originally affiliated with an interurban rail system and most recently used as a community gathering place. MHPN has decided to purchase and rehabilitate this unique vacant building for use as its own headquarters and tenant space. This will build MHPN's capacity for future rehabilitation projects.

Michigan Modern

I recently attended the annual conference of the MHPN in Saugatuck. One talk regarding Mid-Century Modern (preservationists’ latest cause célèbre) included several homes of my former professors whose work is increasingly eligible for listing on the National Register. Seeing the familiar names associated with these homes, I recalled a lecture by one professor, where he described his repeated attempts to detail a brick garden wall without a top cap, presumably because the typical limestone used for such caps was guilty of the "crime" of ornamentation. After several attempts, which failed when water infiltrated, then froze and damaged the wall, he acquiesced and added a stone cap.

With the benefit of hindsight – not to mention centuries of experience – we know that omitting the cap was a questionable idea. If this building been located in a historic district, and the later addition of the cap had been presented to a historic commission, could the change be justified under Secretary of the Interior’s Standards? In particular, Standard #3 states:

Each property shall be recognized as a physical record of its time, place, and use. Changes that create a false sense of historical development, such as adding conjectural features or architectural elements from other buildings, shall not be undertaken.

The initial choice to omit the wall cap was deliberate, a Modernist's attempt to express the pure language of brick. Therefore, it would probably be defined as a character-defining feature of the building. With the growing acceptance of Mid-century Modern buildings as cultural resources, historic district commissions will need to address these buildings’ built-in shortcomings and consider whether to perpetuate bad design in the name of architectural character.

Abram C. Fisk House

Work has begun in earnest on this beautiful 1840’s brick Italianate building in Coldwater, Michigan. The home was built by Abram C. Fisk and the new owner is developing plans for a mixed-use commercial building.

Unlike my past visits, I expect to eventually visit the site when the weather is a bit less dreary. Until then, have a look at the history of this great home, in a video produced by the owner: www.bluehat.tv/ (The video is near the bottom of the page.)

Broad Museum

With the return of the fair weather, I’m able to take more frequent walks to the storefront shops along Grand River Avenue. Some new businesses have moved in during the winter months, and I enjoy seeing the activity that sunny days bring. This spring, however, a disturbing new building has finally taken outward form in East Lansing. Like with the newly budding trees, the Broad Art Museum developed through the winter and now is firmly rooted on the north edge of the campus.

I can appreciate and support any new construction and the uplifting appearance it gives. Since my family’s return to Michigan in 2007, the construction industry has endured a prolonged downturn. While I support the patrons’ strong vision and their desire place a landmark building on campus, few would be surprised to know that I do not like this building.

The building lacks Context of Place and of Purpose, exhibiting neither the character of Mid-Michigan nor the university museum – even one that is intended to house Modern art. I could charitably suggest that it does exhibit a Context of Period, but only insofar as architectural intellectuals believe that an out-of-balance, deliberately uncomfortable building symbolizes “the university’s trajectory into the future.”

Naturally, the building has its supporters; most have limited their praise to the hackneyed claim that, “It looks like sculpture.” On the contrary, it looks like a mishap. In fact, the strongest compliment I’ve heard is that it is much better than the other entries. Given the appearance of the winner, this does not exactly fill me with confidence.

Teaching the Guild

The following is a rough transcript of a talk presented to the Okemos Chapter of Business Networking International. As typical, I began with a story (lifted from This Old House).

In 1939, Herbert "Hib" Johnson threw a housewarming party at Wingspread, his new 14,000-square-foot residence designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. As dinner was being served in the great hall, a thunderstorm erupted, and water began dripping steadily into the room. Johnson, CEO of the S.C. Johnson Wax Company, phoned Wright in a rage. "I'm sitting here with some friends and distinguished guests," he fumed, "and the roof is leaking right on top of my head!"

"Well Hib " Wright replied, "why don't you move your chair?"

Unfortunately, this is not an unusual impression of architects. As a profession, we are often seen as aloof or egomaniacal. Many people are reluctant to engage an architect, due to this perceived arrogance. In contrast, my practice is to apply my knowledge and experience to develop a creative solution that incorporates the owner’s wants and desires, while incorporating my own input as well as the needs of the community.

The house on the right stands as an example of a design composed without regard to community. It provides no sense of place and is unnecessarily complicated. In contrast, the house on the left addresses both the interior uses and the public’s needs. The substantial front porch is traditionally considered the owner’s gift to the neighborhood. The front elevation – and all elevations for that matter – are carefully considered and thoughtfully composed.

Before returning to Michigan in 2007, I worked as the Manager of Architecture and Design at a Traditional Neighborhood Development. One of my responsibilities was to teach traditional detailing and construction to a group of established residential contractors. All were successful businessmen, but most were more accustomed to with building homes like those on the right in the drawing above. Such homes are anonymous, bloated and entirely lacking charm. The elevations are poorly composed, with the sides entirely lacking any detail. They exhibit tremendous size, but no charm.

In contrast, the traditional design that I was to teach has its own lexicon of terms. Authentic building requires a particular set of skills; while there is no one right solution, there are plenty of wrong ones. It became job to teach these experienced builders to appreciate the distinctions of the house on the left: unique, small-scale detail with strong contextual influences. The home possesses a smaller area, but is designed with very little wasted space.

Knowing that this would be a challenge, we devised a creative way to get these contractors to learn these established patterns of building. We organized a day long field trip where this Builders’ Guild toured authentically detailed buildings, both old and new. There, we conducted a scavenger hunt, providing the builders with a list of twenty details to find, a digital camera, and several detail cards like the following:

The details on these cards can be located above in the illustration of the two houses.

Many of the terms and elements were obscure, but it was crucial that the contractors identify the various details, by name and their proper place on the building. By the end of the day, the Guild was speaking the language, trading picture cards and identifying previously unknown details.

Our task was accomplished with creativity and engagement. We persuaded the Guild to consider, if not adopt, a different mindset: Building is not necessarily about expensive massing and conspicuous complexity. The simple elegance and authentic detailing of the traditional house could build communities that people cared about – not as an investment, but as a place to dwell.