Day 45: Danny 'n' Me

Carla and I both have large extended families in Cape Breton (I’ve got about 15 aunts and uncles and somewhere around 30 cousins on my Mom’s side alone), and some of them like to stop by periodically to check out the project. None of them have much interest in contemporary architecture. Their reactions most commonly involve some variation on the phrase ‘it certainly is different!’ Some seem enthusiastic and impressed, though I always imagine they’re just trying to be supportive. Others don’t say much at all.

I haven’t had much direct contact with other designers of any stripe since we arrived in Nova Scotia, and it’s a strange experience to find myself in a place like Mabou trying to explain what I’m doing without recourse to the usual archi-speak terms or concepts. It’s useless to talk about wrappers and cores, or served and servant spaces, or all the other terms I can use when speaking to other designers. As a result I’ve been thinking about the way architects conceptualize things, and how closely those things should relate to the real process of building and making.

In my mind there’s a spectrum between, say, Daniel Libeskind and Louis Kahn. At one end is the purely formal, where abstraction is complete: a building is a crystal, and how it is made is, to the architect, almost literally immaterial. At the other end is the systems-based, where construction technology is illustrated in the form itself – the separations between building systems are fetishized and nothing is purely decorative.



Looking at my building as it is now, covered in OSB (and looking strangely more naked than it did a week ago), it seems closer to the former position than the latter – and, philosophically speaking, that is somewhere I never expected to find myself. I was trained to think of things in terms of systems, and to me this design is an assembly of three parts – the service core or ‘tower’, the plywood-clad ‘crow’s nest’, and the shingled ‘sleeve’. But they’re all made in exactly the same way as parts of the same inextricable mass of studs, joists and sheathing. The differences between them will be visible mainly in terms of finishes. Maybe that’s OK. To me, there is still something deeply satisfying about a space that can be seen clearly in terms of just a few constituent parts – even if it’s all just cosmetic.

- Geoff

Day 34: Burnout

If any of you are keeping track (and the depressing lack of comments on these pages suggests otherwise), you’ll have noticed that Carla and I have been a little slack lately with our blogging schedule. There are two reasons for this. One: I haven’t had a day off since the beginning of the month. Since Carla is swamped with her thesis and you need at least two people to work effectively on a project like this, so when people show up for short periods it seems foolish to take time off while they’re here. Carla’s dad left for Halifax last Wednesday, but was replaced the following day by my father, who was able to help until today. Then John Robert called to say he could come back Sunday night and work through Wednesday (he’s nothing if not eager to help, to a kind of scary degree). This would all be manageable, except our friend Scott arrives Thursday to help for a couple of days… will I be able keep up the pace, still without a day off? I’m feeling the burn.

Oh yeah, reason two for our lack of blog entries: as I alluded to above, Carla passes in her thesis on Wednesday. Needless to say she is more stressed than I, so I suppose I should quit complaining.

Today we framed the ‘crow’s nest’ – it’ll house the 12-foot writing desk with the prime view. It’s the most formally dramatic element of the design, and I’m pleased with it so far. We’ve been able to frame the roof in such a way that the necessary ventilation (which in a more traditional house would be through the eave soffit) will happen through a continuous slot vent just above that window. It should look pretty sharp.

Roof framing is over half complete, which means that roof cladding will come next… this will be the moment of truth. There are areas up there I’m terrified of, since as an architect I’ve learned to fear and loathe flashing and roof membrane details like wrathful gods. So why did I design this roof with internal corners and awkward angles galore? Lucky for me the parapet means no one will be able to see much of it, and if it leaks I won't be sued.

- Geoff

Day 25: Anhedonia

With one of the second floor walls framed, you can now begin to see the final form and scale of the project. It’s strange and kind of thrilling to see the building this far along, with no major problems. I should be happy and relaxed all the time now. And yet... every morning when I wake up already exhausted, my fingers cramped, I remind myself that this is a unique time in my life, one that my future self will look wistfully back on. No office, no one to answer to, and I get to spend all my days out in the sun working on something I conceived. But all the petty worries associated with construction keep getting in the way of my enjoyment.

For example, Carla’s parents have to head back to Halifax later this week, and Lynette and Simon are leaving too (they’ve already been ridiculously generous in spending over a week with us). This means that we’ll temporarily be without help. Seeing as the roof framing and the sheathing of the second story will be starting up soon, that’s going to make things tough. Carla and I weren’t built to carry all that plywood up two stories alone. Our stick-arms are made for typing, or gently strumming guitars.

On the other hand, I’ve been tentatively offered a position at a good firm in Toronto. I can’t say where, but needless to say this takes a huge weight off my mind. At least my future self will have a job to look wistfully back from.

- Geoff

Can You Spot the Sex Symbol?

Hey y'all,

We're back in Halifax for the long weekend. Catching up on correspondence and bills and all that fun stuff. Actually I'm also frantically throwing together an application to the BC Arts Council. Story of my life.

We had some fun visitors this week. Walter dropped by with Anne-Marie and Sage. I have a picture of him pretending to hammer a nail into a wall, but he actually spent most of his time lying on the beach and whipper-snipping Robert Frank's lawn. Also a bunch of Geoff's relatives stopped by to examine the progress. And the fiddler Joey Beaton made a visit because he's also a Commissioner and I needed him to sign our Affidavit of Family Gifting (I won't go into what that is since it's boring).

Lynette, Simon, Mom and Dad have been a huge help. It's a full house (cottage), but everyone's doing their part. Mom's a blueberry-blackberry-picking fiend. And the moment we finish eating one meal, she's planning the next. Or hanging laundry on the clothesline. Or vacuuming our muddy tracks off the floor. Or running to the Freshmart for more groceries. Tireless, that woman.

Lynette's a lovely companion and awfully handy in the kitchen. Simon inspires Geoff and Dad to go shirtless. The other day he was wearing a small pair of red shorts and nothing else and Mom said to Lynette, "Simon is like a sex symbol." Holy that was funny. Dad and Geoff have become a real team, constantly working out problems and strategizing.

The other day, the five of us erected an enormous 12-foot wall on the second story and it was, hands down, one of the scariest moments of my life. The wall was ridiculously heavy and we had to slowly raise it in a completely controlled manner so that it wouldn't slip off the edge and crash into the field down below. We'd inch it up a little. Then a little more. Then a little more, until it was almost level. Then Geoff ran around positioning bracing. Every slight wind made me nervous, made me imagine it toppling over the side. But we got it in place and now it's majestic. I don't even want to put up the other three walls. That one just looks so beautiful on its own, stretching into the sky like that.

- Carla