So true, and a maxim that has much relevance today with issues of affordability, sustainability and the idea of building for real people, not the real-estate inflation game.
It’s beyond measure how many times I’ve heard people say “…we don’t use half our house”, and the reason they built a bigger home than they needed was for “resale” considerations. Developers and Real Estate Agents have been touting the “must maximize the property” gospel for years as if it was some golden rule. Thing is, they maximized quantity not quality. This is just another urban myth, and with the recent recession, more and more people now realize that big houses are just a waste. The self-perpetuating myth has been busted.
The turnaround probably started when Susan Susanka published The Not So Big House, a revolutionary book that struck a cord with those who were leaning ahead of the curve. A classic, and worth exploring:
During two decades working in the high-end residential market designing homes for the very wealthy, it was interesting to study how the money gets spent; what is it that pushes costs as high as $1200/sf? Granted, the results can be stunning, particularly if you’re into pigmented plaster walls, leather tile floors, gold leaf ceilings and cast glass soaking tubs.
The 80:20 Rule Revisited
When we started Stillwater Dwellings, our objective was design for the upper-middle market with the goal of producing homes built to 80% of the highest quality level at just 20% of the cost. We did this by removing unnecessary details and add-ons that inflate prices but create no real long-term value. This 80:20 rule is the Pareto Principle, which is widely used to describe the distribution of cause and effect.
Actually there are areas of design that usually aren’t subject to the Pareto Principle. The rules of good proportion, scale, space and diagram all remain, within bounds, unaffected by the materials that define them.
I was a little surprised to come across this urban planning article in The Independent, as most of the talk in the USA is about houses needing to get smaller, not bigger:
“Architects Beginning to Think Big
Britain’s homes have long had the smallest rooms in Europe, now a new generation of town planners and architects is urging us to rethink the way we use our shrinking urban space. Oliver Bennett reports.
Friday, 15 October 2010
Rabbit hutch Britain: Densely packed terraced homes in Blackburn, as elsewhere in the north of England, often date from as far back as the Industrial Revolution.
“In most things we welcome miniaturisation: computers, phones, cars. But not for our homes. Sadly, however, this is the situation that the British house-buying public faces. Homes in Britain have the smallest rooms in Western Europe. The average floor space is almost a quarter smaller than in Denmark – Western Europe’s most spacious country – and we are becoming accustomed to living cheek by jowl in cramped, poky quarters.
It’s not an impressive achievement, thinks Rebecca Roberts-Hughes, policy officer for the Royal Institute of British Architects (Riba), She believes it’s time for British volume builders to start thinking big.”
Vacationing on the outer Pacific Coast in Washington we made a detour to the planned community of Seabrook, WA and got to meet the very approachable Casey Roloff who is the proud father of this baby. From a planning perspective it’s a very good example of New Urbanism with a sensible approach to environment and community. It has a good feel that will only get stronger as the place matures and gets that lived in feel that only a bit of time can accomplish. But wandering the lanes and paths I couldn’t help wondering what it could have been if the buildings were contemporary. This recent Seattle Times article goes deeper:
Seabrook developer building community, not just homes
SEABROOK, Grays Harbor County — Developer Casey Roloff likes to say that he’s building a sense of “community” — one house at a time.
His 6-year-old beach town on a bluff overlooking the ocean is designed to make folks feel at home — from the bustling Front Street Café as you drive in, to the open, wooden box filled with balls and other sports equipment at the entrance to a centrally located park.
You can pick up a loaner bike to ride around the narrow streets of the town about three hours’ drive southwest of Seattle — or take your kids down to the beach to dig in the sand. Houses have colorful names like “The Lost Lobster” and “Hodge Podge Lodge.”
“It’s not about the view or the beach or the ocean,” Roloff says. “A lot of people come and buy a house, and the town is so compelling that they haven’t been to the beach, and they’re sold.”