House in Progress Diary

My earlier post on honesty in materials was, of course, a statement of the ideal, and we all struggle with the tension between the ideal and the possible. Part of what I was trying to get at, though, was a different angle of approach. In the pitched battle between ideal and affordable it seems that the ideal, once established, never moves~ compromise is always on the part of resources. It's usefull (at the very least as an excercise) to think of it the other way around. Okay, so one ideal is X (I won't say beadboard or some folks will want my head), but X is just not acheivable. Instead of assuming that a psuedo-X is the best we can do, we could investigate and see whether there is an ideal Y or Q that can be accomplished at the highest level.

Before dismissing new ideas we should remember that beadboard itself was once a new idea; invented for people who couldn't afford wood paneling. It met the same needs honestly by a different, cheaper approach, and while we're struggling to afford it, there's no doubt that it seemed cheap and tacky to many at the time. Had it emulated the look rather than the facility of paneling, it would never have survived and grown into something that so many people are so fond of today. Had it been made of plywood originally, there would be none left today for us to admire because it would have chipped and delaminated enough to be removed at some point. Cutting grooves in plywood weakens it~ it's contrary to the nature of the stuff. I wonder how much thought the poster who said that plywood on a wall would look silly put into that judgement. Has she seen it done, or even tried to imagine how it might be trimmed out nicely and treated as a fine material, or was that an instant dismissal of the kind that someone living in a paneled house might have made about beadboard in 1900?

I'm concerned with the fate of old houses (and own one) not out of nostalgia or simple reverence for age, but because we are not presently building much that meets the deep and real needs of actual people. There is no standard contemporary way of building that so captures people's hearts and imaginations, so any structure that does that is almost irreplaceable.
The great movements that are emulated for ages are never actually based on immitation. Though they often draw inspiration from the past (even International Style claimed a parallel to classicism), what remains fundamental and appealing about each is the reinterpretation based on what's particular to the time and place of the present project, not the inspiration. It's my goal work in that same spirit, and I look for it and hope to see it in the people and projects that inspire me, like HIP. Of course, that touches on "Authenticity" and the whole Update vs. Restoration issue, one wich bears a lot more discussion, though J and others have posted some excellent analysis and observation on it previously.
I guess I'm arguing for successful authenticity to 2005 with a deep reverence for 1912, rather than a attempting and innevitably failing in what J's previously pointed out would be impossible~ a true "restoration" to 1912.

I've never posted here to attack anyone's efforts, especially those of our hosts. I hope, and really believe, that if we're going to create anything in our time that will still be important to people in another hundred years, it's going to come out of people like the authors and audience of this site.

Thanks for the forum, guys!

I am definitely feeling the same conflict over the pricey wallpapers and other materials. They're beautiful and wonderful, but would my house ever have had them? Mine is really only an overgrown farmhouse without much fancy ornamentation. The kitchen, especially, is very simple with only the most basic of flat wood trim. We could fancy up the kitchen, but instead we're embracing the rustic-ness (rusticity?) of it by mimicking that plainjane wood trim on the cabinet doors.

Another issue is that we are simple people, similar to the people I imagine must've first lived in our house. I like to admire beautiful, expensive wallpaper, but would I even feel like myself in a house that had it?

No worries about the discussions...I love them!

Here is a bit more about the different "grades" of beadboard. Obviously, the "Home Depot" variety beadboard may not be what folks are looking for.

At our local lumberyard, we were looking at Solid Ceiling and Paneling kiln dried to 10%-12% moisture, Grade C & Better with mixed grain. Choice quality practically clear of all defects. No knots. It's cut from Southern Yellow Pine. (All of our built-in's and trim is Southern Yellow Pine with a dark paint-stain mixture to make the wood look like a darker wood and then shellacked. They were pretty clever in 1914. :)

Plywood has all sorts of grades and some is better than others...and it has been around since the Egyptians! So, many of us have it somewhere in our houses...in furniture or in the house, without even knowing it.

:)

a few things come to mind when i read this latest discussion, and i'm just going to jot them down as they come, rather than try to mold them into some kind of cohesive beginning, middle and end.

jeannie's comment about time being more plentiful "back in the day" made me wonder... why was time more plentiful? people had shorter life spans, worked longer hours, and normally had more social and familial obligations than we do today. church, community events, civic organizations, and family dinners weren't hobbies or leisure pursuits---they were duties. and everything from doing laundry to scrambling an egg took longer than it does today. so where is it that our time is going? or, more accurately, how is it that we are choosing to spend our time in this modern age? and are we choosing wisely? are we choosing consciously? are we choosing at all?

adaptation vs restoration...that's another discussion that makes me wonder. the most common argument for "adaptation" is that life is different now from what it was when our old homes were built, and we can't be comfortable unless we enlarge a room, knock down a wall, add a glamour bath, etc, etc. but to me, part of the charm (and sanity) of living in an older home is adapting myself to the space, rather than adapting the space to myself. my kitchen is barely 10x10. it is small. rather than knocking down walls and turning it into a modern megakitchen, i just buy less stuff. at times, it's a little inconvenient. but so what. at times, having a dog is inconvenient. at times, having a family is inconvenient. in the long run, buying and maintaining less stuff is more convenient than having islands of counterspace and cavernous cabinets. learning to be considerate when using our one full bath is more convenient than carving up an otherwise great floorplan to add another. we've "adapted" our old house for modern living by upgrading the electrical system, adding cable, and buying a couple smoke detectors. that seemed to do the trick...but then, our house was in really good shape when we bought it, so there was little temptation to adapt anything. i might feel differently if i were in a house that needed extensive work, or that was lacking original details...

honesty of materials...that's interesting to think about, too. is paint dishonest, because it covers drywall or plaster? if paint is honest, then is sponge painting or decorative painting dishonest? are the faux tile plaster walls that were common in bungalow kitchens and baths dishonest? were they dishonest in 1920, but honest now because they're quaint? materials can't be honest or dishonest---they're just stuff. they can be cheap, ugly, tacky, poorly designed, inapropriate or poorly used. and even that is open to interpretation. taste changes with time, and standards vary from person to person.

as far as budget vs. authenticity...here at oak house, we're purists, but again---we had a pretty pure environment to start with. i'd say a good rule of thumb for the not-quite purist to follow is "do the best work you can afford to do, in a style that isn't glaringly incompatible with the design of the house..." in other words, keep doing what you're doing. you might not have deep enough pockets to do everything you'd like, but at this point, as long as the work and materials are of reasonably good quality, and as long as you're creating a space that makes you feel happy, safe, and sheltered, then you're doing the right thing. the house was pretty far gone when you started, and an "adaptive restoration" that you can afford is better than no restoration at all...

First of all, great site. I've been reading it often for many months but haven't had a chance to post yet.
As the proud owner of a 1915 bungalow that I adopted in its 1950s condition (just a few years ago), I can certainly testify to the struggle with balancing finances and staying "true" to the history and character of the house. My choice is always that if I am going to take the time and the money to do something, I better do it right. This has certainly meant living with some parts of the house in total disrepair because I just can't get to them yet. I hear you about the 5 of 10 projects. Sometimes it feels like I'll never have a house that I'll be happy to bring strangers into :) I know everyone here has their own places that get ignored...but we should focus on the positive! Doesn't it feel the best when you complete a project, no matter how minor, and feel like you have done it right? That project is checked off the list, the house seems happier and it always seems to give me even more drive to gear up for the other unfinished projects laying in wait. I spend my time living in the rooms that are complete and trying to think about what the house will be like when even more is "done." I also draw strength from reading about other people grappling with the same issues, projects and sucesses.
I can't imagine working on a blog while also getting so much done on your house...so cheers to you! Thanks for the constant inspiration!
Vince

I like the term "adaptive restoration", and I'd love to see it gain currency.

Honesty is honesty and materials and designs are certainly capable of it, and of violating it. And dishonesty is simply wrong for some very good reasons. My name is Nathan and I'm an architect. If I represented myself as Enrique, the CPA, you might trust me to do you taxes. Then you'd be in trouble.
Those who expected their scored plaster to behave like the tile it immitated were eventually but no less catastrophically dissapointed. All eras have had their fakes, but the genuine is what tends to endure~ because it works better.

I'd say paint is def. it's own material, as it serves several distinct functions as part of many different assemblies. That said, I'd rather build without it where I can just because I like as few moving parts as possible and as many of them revealed as possible, instead of hiding them behind one another~ that's just a matter of taste, though, not good or bad design. Um... obviously I make a distinction there that not everyone does.

I love the point about kids and dogs being a hassle~ infinitely moreso than, say, not having an attached garage. At least one toilet off every room would be most convenient... also pretty stupid. Too much of this crap has gotten to be about acquisition and investment and not enough about home. I think such a discussion of adaptation is relevant not just to building services, but also aesthetics. Kristin's Kitchen sounds great to me as a big fan of simple quality! The simple and sometimes inconvenient can also be better for us. Even though it will mean scampering through the rain occaionally, I would never want an attached garage... because it is good to scamper through the rain. It's good to be forced out of contrived comfort on a regular basis. We need that or we become self-satisfied, self-indulgent; out of touch with anything beyond our own immediate and proscribed experience and unwilling to do anything to change that. That kind of thing keeps you humble, which keeps you open and free and ready to learn and grow. Pets remind us that we're not the only species on the planet, nor nneccessarily the greeatest. We don't get rained on enough these days.

On the time issue~ I think we fritter more time away, and we spend much more of it "entertaining" ourselves. Just about anything that folks used to regularly do for entertainment we would now consider some kind of work. We spend MUCH more time travelling than people used to, and we travel by car, which demands more singular focus. Most folks used to work at home, but I'm probably in the car 3 hrs out of every day. If I was an office worker in 1912, I could probably walk to work, but if not I'd still have had shorter trip on a train or trolley that allowed me to read or chat or think while I went. I could run all my errands by foot in the neighborhood of my office or that of my home. Decentralization has destroyed that possibility for almost everybody but residents of the cores of a few major cities.

I have a Chicago bungalow and my grandparents had a Chicago bungalow. Whenever I think if doing something to our house, I think would my grandfather approve? He was the classic Chicago -- an immigrant from Denmark, came to Chicago to work for Swift meat packing, met my grandmother when she was working at her Aunt's boarding house on the southside. They married, bought a bungalow and had 2 kids (my dad & uncle). I wonder -- would my grandfather put up light fixtures that cost 1/3 of his monthly salary? Would my grandmother obsess over having just the right style bathroom cabinet? The answers -- probably not. This is my reference point for home improvements. Everyone has their own reference point for how they want their house to reflect their lives. I want my house to be a happy place where people come and are welcome. It is definitely true that I want an aesthically beautiful, neat, simple and solid house -- I do not want to create a museum to a bygone time in history that doesn't reflect the present. We need to respect history and learn from it. We then need to take this knowledge and translate it into creating spaces that help us to be contributing members of the human race. That I think is what my grandparents would want.

I love this kind of discussion!

Yes, I have to admit. I'm a big fan of doing things right. To the occasional chagrin of anyone who has ever lived with me. (Oh, it is the A+ student in me.)

Which is why we have spent SO LONG to get the mechanicals and insulation and structure right. (I never want to open these walls again.)

And...after 18 months we are still camping out with no clean room that is separate from the parts of the house we want to clean up. 18 months of eating off of the grill, and not having clean clothes, or a space without dust.

We are luckier than a lot of people. My health has taken a sharp downturn and I'll be down here for at least 2 more months. Unfortunately, that means no income help from me for at least two more months. How is that lucky? Well, we won't LOSE the house from this. To be honest, we thought there was a chance of this and we planned for it. Just...not so soon. Now we are pushing for these three rooms in this separate part of the house to be done. The kitchen, the living room, the dining room, downstairs...they can all proceed as we have the money and time.

But, ah life. Such a funny thing, isn't it? Sometimes you can change it and sometimes it changes you.

I found your site on an Amazon review--how wonderful! In today's Los Angeles Times View section there were two great sections on the Arts & crafts movements in the L.A. and Pasadena areas, as well as the Austrian Secession, or Viennese art deco period of 1900. The L.A. County Museaum of Art is having quite a collection of Craftsman furnishings until April 3, and we plan to take advantage of it. My husband and I live in a beautiful 1906 Craftsman home in Ventura--between Santa Barbara and L.A., which is a dream come true for us. We are doing some work, but the home had been maintained over the years so very well by the few owners before us. What fun to peer into your lives and watch as you work on what is so far flung from the McMansions I see all around us!

I find Amy's comments refreshing. After living in our home for only 1 1/2 years now, and pondering about "authenticity" concepts, I came to a conclusion the day before yesterday as I walked through our home. Growing up outside of Chicago in a humble, unpretentious Victorian (purchased because my parents could afford it and it would accommodate a good-sized family of 7), my mother decorated it in a traditional and very tasteful decor of the day. It was a lovely and comfortable home. That's what I've always tried to do in any home I've had, and what I'm doing in this elegant home we are so fortuante to live in now. There is truly a mix of period European antiques, burgundy leather furniture, antique American peices, Persian carpets (fine ones and more rustic tribal-type rugs)as I lived in Iran and love the Kilim look. I think ladies of the day would decorate in an eclectic style not adhering only to a Craftsman-style but incorporating items retrieved from travels, as I have done. This blog is the first one I've been involved in, and I am fascinated.