A Painter of Perfect Interiors

Do you really think you're good enough for this room??

While reading a short story by the incomparable modern master of the “novel of ideas”, Louis Auchincloss, I stopped short at a reference to the early Twentieth Century, American, expatriot artist, Walter Gay.  I have long been an admirer of this often overlooked watercolorist who painted the interiors of the French chateaux of his wealthy friends.  A contemporary and friend of Edith Wharton, he had ample opportunity to be the guest of the Americans who found themselves living in the paradise that was France before the Great European War.  In the Twenty-First Century his work is being re-appraised and appreciated by interior decorators, if not by serious art critics.  I hope I am not letting the cat out of the bag when I suggest that the architect, like the artist, is primarily interested in the perfection of the spaces he creates, not the lives of the flawed and fallible clients who are to inhabit them, except that they might rise to the occasion presented by their architecture and live the sort of virtuous lives implied by beautiful and harmonious spaces.  Perhaps it is here that the staunch traditionalist meets the strident modernist in their joint crusade to reform the world through good design.

From “The Takeover”, by Louis Auchincloss

She glanced briefly at the quiet Gallic salon with its gray panels, its commode and bergeres, and the window opening to the edge of a formal garden.
“Well, if you like Walter Gay,” she said with a shrug.

“Oh, you knew it was a Walter Gay. Tell me about Walter Gay.”

“He did his friends’ chateaux, as you see. He was one of those exquisite expatriates of Edith Wharton’s world. He could paint, I admit. Lucian likes his things because there are no people in them. You don’t even feel that anyone’s just left the room. They are totally empty. Voids.”

“Is that it, Lucian? You don’t like people?”

Well, I could play their silly game as well as they. “I don’t especially like the people who occupied Gay’s rooms, no. Marquis and comtes with rich American wives. But the rooms, at least, are beautiful. Gay believed that rooms have souls even if their owners don’t. Or perhaps he imagined the souls the occupants thought they might develop by living in those rooms.”

"Everything is very beautiful, and very cold, and you aren't allowed to touch anything."

Barn Frame Renovation

Timber frame structure to be converted to home

"Take the frame... leave the junk."

My partner, Little Tim, just informed me that a barn frame in almost pristine condition has been listed for sale on-line.  We have discussed the possibility of obtaining a true, historic, post-and-beam structure and moving it to a lot near Peterborough New Hampshire.  Our aim is to create a rustic retreat that would combine the robust, handcrafted details of the traditional New England barn with the amenities and comforts expected by the modern homeowner.  An open-plan design with two discreet bedrooms and baths could be inserted into such a building with ease and at little expense.  Energy efficient systems and “green” technology would make this a perfect residence that fits nicely into the natural landscape while making as small a “carbon footprint” as possible.  Remember; “the greenest building is the one that already exists.”

Anyone who may have similar interests in owning a rustic homestead on easy terms is encouraged to contact us.  The house could be ready for occupancy before the Fall foliage is upon us.

–Tim Cronin, Architect

A Great Artist Steals

Historic brick Hildreth House near Boston in Concord Massachusetts

Historic Hildreth House in Concord Mass, c.1800?

How often does a student of architecture hears the old bromide: “A good artist borrows, a GREAT artist steals”, during the course of his education?  The lesson being that any architect worthy of the name must first be not only conversant, but fluent, in the vocabulary of his predecessors in the design profession; only then will he be able to contribute something new yet coherent to the sum of built work.  Unfortunately, like the modern author who is compelled to write something original, post- James, Joyce, and Mann, the architect of today is faced with a somewhat constricted field of originality… not to mention the usual deadline of two weeks in which to come up with a schematic plan acceptable to the Client.  A singular proof of this “stealing” from history was recently brought home to me in the homey old Brattle Bookshop in West Street, Boston.  There, among the section of books marked “Architecture”, in an old tome named “Colonial Architecture In Massachusetts”, I found a picture of a house I am helping to renovate in Wellesley. Only the house in the black and white photo ISN’T of the house in Wellesley; it’s a photo of the historic Hildreth House in Concord, Massachusetts!  Now, in an earlier Journal entry I have spoken of the Wellesley house as being a wonderful Twentieth Century approximation of earlier Colonial work.  What I didn’t know when writing that piece was that the house is an almost PERFECT COPY of a house located just a few miles away.  The author of the book has this to say of the original:

“The Hildreth House at Concord, set off from all present main traveled roads, and facing out upon a quiet little triangle of green, preserves something of its original flavor of quiet dignity and comparative isolation…  The interiors, shown upon the measured drawing of the section, express something of the restraint , almost the inarticulateness, of many of the early New Englanders when attempting to work in the more sumptuous, freely flowing manner that seems to have come so easily to many of their contemporaries– or even to designers of somewhat earlier times– in the southern Colonies.”

Ouch!  Faint praise, indeed.  Nevertheless, some talented architect of the 1920′s, looking to steal a great design, fastened his gaze upon the obviously well documented (for the time) Hildreth House.  The restraint and “inarticulateness” of the chaste brick structure was obviously well suited to the traditional and conservative temperament of the prosperous client who found himself building a home in the two decades following the First World War.

Wellesley brick house, historic house, Hundreds Road, traditional architecture wellesley

House in Hundreds Road, Wellesley, Mass.

I have included  my drawing of the Wellesley house’s entrance to be compared to the measured scaled drawing of the original Concord House.  They are exactly the same.  Except for ignoring the two small dormers, the Twentieth Century architect of the house in Hundreds Road, Wellesley, has copied the front elevation of the historic house; brick-by-brick.

Traditional architecture, front door, Wellesley Mass., Timothy Cronin Architect, Colonial architecture, traditional architect

Elevation of front door of house in Hundreds Road, Wellesley, Mass.

Traditional architecture, colonial architecture, Wellesely Mass., Timothy Cronin Architect, Boston architect

Front door detail of Hildreth House, Concord, Mass.

I am always heartened to see a continuity in the communion of architects, past and present, as they seek to create buildings of lasting beauty and inspiration.

–Timothy Cronin

The Portsmouth Newel

Traditional Colonial Architecture Detail Staircase Newel New England

The Portsmouth Stair Newel

One of the wonderful things about working in the traditional Colonial style of New England is how often we encounter unique regional variations of certain stock details, such as the “Portsmouth Newel”, or “Turnout”, pictured at the left.  This architectural detail has always been a favorite of mine, as it combines elegance of form with simplicity of execution.  Unlike the simple “bullnose” starting tread with typical Georgian turnout above, the Portsmouth variation follows a simple outward curve along the bottom tread, capturing a charming little space in the first floor hall suitable for a small table or seat.

There has always been speculation among architectural historians as to why the local carpenters favored this detail in so many of the local houses.  Seaports have always had a great deal of interplay between the builders of houses and the builders of ships.  Perhaps something in this form appealed to builders who outfitted the Eighteenth Century schooners that once sailed from this deep water port.  Regardless of its origin, it continues to work well in new houses built with an eye on the past.  I’m hoping to use just such a stair in an upcoming project now on the drafting boards.

Those seeking more information about new house construction in the historical New England tradition, or those who would like to renovate an existing historic house, are welcome to contact us at Tim@TCroninArchitect.com

New House Construction on Martha’s Vineyard

Shingle Style House, T. Cronin, Architect, Martha's Vineyard

Timothy Cronin, Architect Designed Traditional House, Martha's Vineyard

I have been working on a new Shingle-Style house to be built in the lovely town of West Tisbury on Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts.  The site is a wonderful, natural, hilltop setting adjacent to conservation land and well off the beaten path.  While enjoying the small cottage currently on the site, the owner has set his sight on building a house that will both take full advantage of the cool breezes and distant views of the ocean while facilitating entertaining family and friends in greater comfort.

I have worked closely with this client on other historically themed design projects, but this is the most ambitious one so far.  Our watchword has always been “authenticity”, especially when considering the traditional materials and methods used in years gone by.  Ideally, a visitor to this house should feel that he is approaching an old country seat which has been lovingly maintained through the years by succeeding generations of the same family.  Everything, from the profile of the window mullions to the method of laying the cedar shingles on the roof, will be executed with a scholarly eye towards the best practices and qualities available circa 1890.

Another design concern was that the house should have the traditional flourishes and charm expected of a classic old house, yet be relatively simple for a building crew to frame and finish.  The so-called “Shingle Style” is as ideal for this sort of Summer house today as it was when it was first introduced in the 1880′s.  Stock sizes of windows, doors, and trim, with framing members carefully chosen from traditional lengths of dimension lumber, not only simplify construction while keeping costs down, but also force the design to conform to the rules followed by architects and builders in the late Nineteenth Century.  There is nothing in this design that would have been foreign to the carpenter of the New England seacoast, a century ago.

“One can do a great deal of good in this world if one does not care who gets the credit for it.”-Strickland

Shingled colonial Cape Style house in Edgartown with verandah and wood shingled roof

House on Edgartown Harbor, South Water Street, Martha's Vineyard

My partner and I were recently on the island of Martha’s Vineyard, staying in the home of a friend and client.  Combining work with pleasure, I set off with Little Tim for a walking tour of the village of Edgartown, our intention being to photograph some of the houses I designed while working for Patrick Ahearn, AIA.  The ethical standards of the American Institute of  Architects allow former employees to claim fair credit for the work they did while working for another architect.  I should state that I was NOT responsible for producing the clients, or schmoozing them, or cashing their checks… but I pretty much designed their houses from initial concept through final construction drawings.

Greek Revival House with perfect proportions in Edgartown

New Greek Revival "Captain's House" south of Edgartown, Martha's Vineyard

First off I was struck by just how many houses I had designed in Edgartown while working for Patrick Ahearn of Ahearn & Schopfer. Secondly, I was extremely proud of how well they are weathering and aging in place to look like historic homes that were always there.  A good eye for detail, proportion, and the skillful use of traditional materials, along with good craftsmen/tradesmen in the field, and a client willing and able to spend the requisite sums, all combined in a perfect storm to create some of the nicest houses on the Island.

How happy I was on that day in 2005 when the Massachusetts Board of Registration of Architects, in response to an action brought against me by Mr. Ahearn, found that I am entitled to claim credit for the work I did while working at his firm, including the design work.  His claim that I was a mere “draftsperson” was dismissed by the Board.

House on Pease's Point Way, Edgartown, Martha's Vineyard

House on Peases' Point Way, Edgartown, Martha's Vineyard

There comes a day when every man is ready to claim credit for his own work and God-given talent.  One does care who gets fair credit, after all.

Mathematics Of The Ideal Villa

Castle Tucker, 1807, Property of Historic New England

Castle Tucker (1807), Maine, U.S.A.

It is always a seminal moment in any Cornell architect’s education when some careless professor suggests he or she first look at Colin Rowe’s “Mathematics Of The Ideal Villa”.  This collection of essays, groundbreaking in its day, found that the same mathematical laws and proportions which governed the designs of Renaissance architect Andrea Palladio are also the dynamo hidden in the plans and elevations of the great Modernist, Le Corbusier.  The ardent traditionalist begins to see  elegance of line, form, and volume in even the most Modern elevations and plans.

Villa Schwob, Le Corbusier, 1916

Villa Schwob (1916), La Chaux-de-Fonds, Switzerland

I recently had a Colin Rowe moment when a friend who directs programs for “Historic New England“ sent me a link to their property, Castle Tucker (1807) , in Maine.  I was struck by its similarity to Le Corbusier’s Swiss Villa Scwob (1916); one of that architect’s earliest residential commissions.   Both residences are essentially cubes fronted by double-height studio windows.  Apsidal volumes swell on either side of the central cube in each instance, creating a dynamic Greek Cross floor plan that strongly registers on the exterior.  The restrained ornamentation on the early Nineteenth Century American villa compares favorably to the relatively exuberant (for Le Corbusier) ornament employed in the Villa Schwob.   In many ways, the older house looks more “Modern” than the Modernist masterpiece.  In fact, I would guess that if Corb had been aware of the historic Castle Tucker he would have viewed it as a promising early shoot of American proto-Modernism, struck down by the succeeding century of mass produced historical ornament.

“Persons Of Taste” or, “Why I Need An Architect”

The simplicty and elegance of an architect designed house.

Want something simple and elegant? Hire an architect.

While waiting to hear a lecture given on the subject of  the gardens of Newport, Rhode Island, at the Athenaeum Library on Boston’s Beacon Hill, my eyes fell upon their copy of James Gibbs’ 1728 “Book of Architecture: Containing Designs of Buildings and Ornaments”. While Gibbs’ opus has long been a favorite resource in my office, I must confess I had never done more than look at the pictures.  Now, carefully opening the first few pages, I read for the first time Gibbs’ dedication to “His Grace, John, Duke of Argyll and Greenwich, &c.”.  What followed was as succinct a summation of reasons why every thoughtful person (whether Privy Councilor, Master General, or Knight of the most Noble Order of the Garter) should hire an architect to design and direct the construction of his house.

In Gibbs’ own words:
“What heaps of Stone, and even Marble, are daily seen in Monuments, Chimneys, and other Ornamental pieces of Architecture, without the least Symmetry or Order?  When the same or fewer Materials, under the conduct of a skilful Surveyor, would, in less room and with much less charge, have been equally (if not more) useful, and by Justnefs of Proportion have had a more grand Appearance, and consequently have better answered the Intention of the Expense.  For it is not the Bulk of a Fabrick, the Richnefs and Quantity of the Materials, the Multiplicity of Lines, nor the Gaudiness of the Finishing, that give the Grace or Beauty and Grandeur to a Building; but the Proportion of the Parts to one another and to the Whole, whether entirely plain, or enriched with a few Ornaments properly disposed.

SOME, for want of better Helps, have unfortunately put into the hands of common workmen, the management of Buildings of considerable expense; which when finished, they have had the mortification to find condemned by persons of Taste, to that degree that sometimes they have been pull’d down, at least alter’d at a greater charge than would have procur’d better advice from an able Artist; or if they have stood, they have remained lasting Monuments of the Ignorance or Parsimoniousness of the Owners, or (it may be) of a wrong-judged Profuseness.”

This last charge, that less money could have been spent to better effect if an architect had been engaged, is one I see every day in my practice.  I have helped many clients, sometimes at considerable expense to themselves, remedy the myriad deficiencies and crass features of their Contractor-built homes.  I am always struck that these good people have paid top dollar for McMansions they eventually come to feel as embarrassments and marks of personal naivete, rather than showcases of elegance and refinement they had hoped.

If you find yourself building a house and are assured by the Contractor that you don’t need an Architect, please reflect on the words of James Gibbs, given over 250 years ago:

“I mention this to caution Gentlemen from suffering… by the Forwardness of unskillful Workmen, or the Caprice of ignorant, assuming Pretenders.”

Saving an historic Massachusetts house

Historic Thomas Clark House, Belmont, Massachusetts

"Your historic Georgian home has shipped from our facility and should arrive withing four business days."

In an age when so many old houses in and around Boston are torn down it is refreshing to hear of one being saved from the wrecker’s ball by a concerned group of private citizens who have found a new home for a cherished landmark.  Many great historic structures have seen their surroundings change drastically over the years.  Realtors often use the term “external obsolescence” to describe a fine old farmhouse that is now surrounded by the gas stations and parking lots of suburban sprawl.  What was once prime farmland is now a strip mall on a major highway.  We’ve all seen those sad cases of brick Federal houses, with barn and carriage house, just fifteen feet from a six lane highway.  The fortunate ones often live on as professional office space, but too often the value of the land for development sends these misplaced survivors of an earlier age to the land fill.

It is with special pleasure I relate the current situation of the historic Thomas Clark House in Belmont, Massachusetts.  This well sized and proportioned Georgian farmhouse, built 250 years ago, faced certain doom.  A developer bought the property and is building two new homes on the parcel.  Luckily the developer is also a man who appreciates the importance of historic preservation and the traditional character of the town of Belmont.  After many false starts permission was obtained to move the house onto a nearby lot where it will be restored and renovated as a private home.  I think we all owe a debt of thanks to those who, behind the scenes, worked to preserve such a lovely home for future generations.

An article on the house move can be read here in the on-line “Belmont Patch”.

“Classic Old House Plans”

Traditional house book, plans, elevations, Lawrence Grow, Historic Architecture

The little architcture plan book that started it all

My eyes stray along the sagging old bookcases of my office.  I am struck afresh at how many volumes of old details and floor plans an architectural professional can amass in the course of a healthy career.  This eclectic collection, amassed since school days, is the brimming source of images and ideas which inspires me in my work every day.

Today my eyes are drawn to a high shelf containing a handful of well-thumbed books.  I don’t know the exact date I first encountered “Old House Plans” by Lawrence Grow, but I can still remember the electric thrill that ran through me, that long ago day in the Whitinsville Social Library, at finding an author who had culled from the National Archives a collection of house plans purposefully selected to capture the imagination of a budding architect.

The local library had both “Old House Plans” and “Classic Old House Plans”.  In a clear, systematic way they broke down the history of American domestic architecture into periods and styles with simple examples illustrated with detailed plans, sections, and elevations.  For the first time I confronted now familiar terms:  The Gothic Revival Style;  The Shingle Style;  The Second Empire or Mansard Style.  Examples were culled from the measured scaled drawings held in the Historic American Building Survey of the National Park Service.  Each one of them was a gem.

As a practicing architect who works in historical idioms, these books have also provided a philosophical grounding for doing traditional work in the modern world.
In Grow’s own words: “There is little substance to the body of work which is now being turned out along Colonial lines.  The average Palladian window installed today, for example, has neither the profile nor trim of its 200-year-old Georgian Colonial prototype.  This is not to say that modern work is not legitimate, simply that most of it is not Colonial in a formal sense.  But you must know what is authentic to understand what is derivative.”

Over the years I have given away many copies of the Lawrence Grow books, to friends and also to young people who say they want to be an architect when they grow up.  I even recommend them to clients who evince a desire to learn more about the great yet simple houses that define American domestic architecture.