Friday, April 04, 2008

The Houseownerbot

Yesterday my real estate agent sent me a floor plan of the house I am buying long distance. It is nearly double the size of what I rent now, features a big yard that doubles as a ski slope in the winter, and sports a nifty office room set up to look like a log cabin on the inside. All in all, I am excited about it.

But I did notice in the diagram that the bedrooms, which take up the entire southern side of the building, have no windows facing south. The main living area, comprising the upstairs living room, dining room, and kitchen, is split down the middle by the staircase and its protective walls; besides chopping up what could have been a charming family space, it cuts off most of the light from the living room. Why would anyone do that?

The history of architecture is not really my forte, but two possibilities come to mind. First, the designer may have thought it looked neat to have a staircase in the middle of his blue print, and so in his mind it was actually an artistic flair; he was expressing himself as an artist. Second, the designer may have found that, due to constraints of structure and manufacture--for example, that it is a modular home--it took a minimum of thought and effort to put the stairs in the middle. Either way, it is about the architect, whether it be his self-expression or his ease.

The owner of the house is not exactly forgotten, but he has become an abstraction. He is not Joe or Jane or even Man, but something still more abstract: a functionary, a device created to occupy houses, a mere occasion for the architect's endeavor--a houseownerbot, if you will.

I object. A home is first of all for human life. A home is a practical place of everyday living and an emotional place of comfort. A home is eventually the repository of a human history, a sacrament of memory. A home deserves sweat and late nights for its design.

A home is not about the architect--not unless the architect is designing his own home.

The sanest approach to home--and towns and offices, for that matter--is the Pattern Language. Although parts of the book are available online, I just ordered my own copy at last. I just recently discovered the works of Sarah Susanka, inspired by the same ideas, but I haven't had time to read much yet. The unexamined life is not worth living, Socrates said; and the unexamined living space is not worth living in.

So, I wonder how I can turn that staircase into an asset? The Pattern for stairs assumes that the main living area is at the bottom of the stairs, so I have not seen any ideas for how to handle a staircase leading down from a main area.

3 comments:

The Vitruvian Duck said...

A third possibility is that the architect was just an idiot. A fourth is that it may have been designed by a builder.

'A house is a machine for living in'--Le Corbusier. This is bull. A house is no more a machine for the family than a body for the soul.

Email me the plans, if you like.

The Vitruvian Duck said...

Oh, and for the figure(s):

Houseownerbot is a (quasi) portmanteau.

But I think that you're really trying to get us to see the Anaphora: used throughout the paragraph beginning with 'I object'. Nice job carrying it back in the next paragraph, too.

The Vitruvian Duck said...

Alright, it's been bugging me all day, and I think I've...figured it out.

That second paragraph: "A home is not about..." is an anaphora to the first paragraph (when viewed as a part of a greater whole). But as viewed as whole unto itself, it's not...It was the fact that 'home' was used at the beginning AND the end of the clause that was bugging me.

That, my friend, is epistrophe.

You rock.