Marlan Blackwell’s Arkansas House

August 8th, 2008

Thanks to my buddy at Justin at Materialicious for bringing this one to my attention. These guys are doing some great things in our neighboring state, Arkansas.

Description from the architect’s site:

The challenge for the Arkansas House was to reassemble a fire-damaged home and introduce possibilities for re-thinking the house’s spatial character by adding new elements. The low-slung existing tartan grid structure was instilled with a new sense of hierarchy through the addition of light monitors and suspended lofts to the children’s spaces, a new kitchen, and a great room with a saddle-back roof for living, entertaining, and the display of fine art. Comfortably astride the old house, the angled shell forms exude empathy with a rusted barn nearby; the effects of weather and dripping tree sap provide their rusted surfaces with character - raw and visceral - a foil to the painted shades of beige on the walls below

Arkansas House

Marlon Blackwell

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The Modernist Manifesto

July 18th, 2008

Why buildings from our recent past are in peril, and why saving them is so crucial.

There is always something a bit anxiety provoking about seeing a building that you have looked at for years but have never actually visited. Will it look as good in reality as it did in all those photographs? Will the real thing have an air of anticlimax after all those years of anticipation? Or will it simply be different from what you expected? Invariably, it looks at least a little bit different, since no photograph can truly convey the reality of space. You have to go into a space, or at least any space worth talking about, to truly appreciate and understand it. It is always better to experience architecture than to talk about it.

modernism

I had known of Richard Neutra’s Kaufmann House, in Palm Springs, Calif., for years, but only when I finally stood inside it did I realize how powerful an impact this modernist classic makes, how fully and brilliantly it blurs the distinction between inside and outside. In most of the iconic photographs, the house appears to sit alone in the vast open spaces of the desert. Today, however, the surrounding area has been built up, and the site I found was relatively small, its primary connection not with the expanse of the desert (though you are conscious of the mountains and the totality of the landscape) but with the house’s own, more conventionally sized lawns and terraces. Another thing I didn’t anticipate was how important wood and stone are to this house, to achieving the complex series of counterpoints that Neutra pulled off here—harmonic juxtapositions of mass, of light, of solid and void, of rough and smooth textures.

All of this would not have been as apparent had the Kaufmann House not been lovingly restored, an effort that was as ambitious, in its way, as the creation of the house in the first place. The house had been treated terribly for years—it had gone through a couple of owners, one of whom had tried to turn it into a conventional residence, expanding it in ways that suggested no understanding whatsoever of what Richard Neutra was trying to do when he designed it in 1946. But the challenge went beyond ripping off the mistakes and stripping the house down to its essence. Much of that essence had to be re-created; it was not as if the original house were sitting, undisturbed, underneath the alterations. Windows, doors, floors, partitions, all kinds of elements needed to be re-created. Furniture needed to be found again, or remade to original specifications. And since architects are only now beginning to look at modernist buildings with the preservationist’s eye, some of the challenge was in trying to determine what we might call a system, or even an ethos, of modernist preservation.