designing with a tree inside

At our cottage, there was a hope and a dream to honour a canoe birch (paper white birch) by installing it within the interior. The tree was miraculously found by our contractors after a major wind storm up north and installed with branches and leaves intact. Which we loved, of course. even if it meant crawling through the branches as if we were living in a forest.

The tree functions as a structural column, strong enough to handle a spontaneous climber.

For any custom built-ins or shelving we’re using Baltic birch ply. It’s light and creamy next to the golden cedar interior of the original 1960s cottage.  Our coffee bar, pictured here, just getting set up now with Danish teak chest from Kensington Market, yellow Italian espresso maker from my friend, Ginetta, and pastel-coloured melamine dishes.

It seems that trees are coming inside more often these days. For a main lobby space at Quality Hotel Expo, Norway, by Haptic Architects, planted trees are set among long communal tables and iconic modern chairs – a dramatic set piece that looks as fantastic inside as it could in a forested park. (Photo Trine Thorsen)

Garden Tree House by Hironaka Ogawa & Associates.  For this project the Azelkova tree and a Camphor tree from the site were carefully cut then smoked and dried for two weeks to reduce the water content.  They were then reinstalled within the house to serve as main structural elements and central memory totems. (Photo Daici Ano)

The great Norwegian modernist Sverre Fehn (1924 – 2009) might have been among the first to honour living trees within architecture with this unforgettable gesture at the Venice Biennale’s Nordic Pavillion.  There’s no way to dispute the power of nature here.

at our Canadian cottage: charring cedar

For the addition to our cottage in one of Canada’s provincial parks, we decided to follow the Japanese tradition of cladding the exterior with charred cedar. The technique, known as Shou-Sugi-Ban or Yakisugi, is said to raise the natural resins in wood and naturally protect against rot and fire.  (Try igniting a charred log and you’ll see what I mean.) Besides the long-lasting benefits,  the moody-black aesthetic of the burned wood convinced us to try out Yakisugi.

Call us crazy (we were) to burn wood on purpose.  Luckily, our excellent contractor (Brinkman Construction) was game.  He supplied us with a massive propane torch typically used to melt ice on roads, and we char-tested Western Red Cedar and Eastern.  The Eastern, primarily because it’s local and readily available, won out. We laid out about 12 boards at a time and went to work. It’s very intense and best done in pairs: one person working the torch, the other ready with a wet brush and pail of water to control wandering licks of fire.

The depth of the charring in Japan varies wildly, from wood burned deeply over fire pits to light charring.  Swiss architect Peter Zumthor charred the interior of the Bruder Klaus Field Chapel in Germany to create a mystical experience.  We decided to go for the sateen finish of the lighter char to gain some rot resistance and heighten the wood’s natural grain.  It took nearly three days to produce about 400 boards.

We’re thrilled with the result.  In full sunshine, the wood takes on a silver patina.

Our Yakisugi cedar with newly installed black frame windows.

Now we’re counting down the days ’til construction inside and out is complete.  More on that – and the Birch tree installed inside the cottage – to come.  Happy creative summer!

the joy of mid-century modernism

Students at Canada’s Trent University, a masterwork of 1960s modernism, lounging on Swan chairs by the great Danish designer, Arne Jacobsen.   Did they know how cool they were?

An archival photo of one of the Trent lounges, graced by Jacobsen Swan chairs around an Eero Saarinen table. Built-in furniture and modular wood chandelier by Canadian great, Ron Thom.

As my homage to the vast collection of mid-century furniture that once flourished then disappeared at Trent, here’s a tribute with some of the chairs I’ve been collecting for a while, and the joy that they bring.

Montreal – Luc Laporte was here

L’Express, a Montreal classic on rue St. Denis, where the ambience and bifteak with frites are a rare treat.  (Photo: Andre Cornellier.)

The Building as Sign.  A commercial building renovated 33 years ago, L’Express is an instant stand-out for its glass archway, cream-coloured painted masonry and heated black and white tiles on front terrace that move seamlessly from the sidewalk inside.

Spring flowers at L’Express, planted with a hint of the kitsch and the bohemian spirit of the 1970s.

Laloux, another chic eatery by Laporte where he repeats some of his favourite design tropes:  mirrors galore, black woodwork and wainscotting, cream-coloured walls and arched window.

Arthur Quentin, a glorious housewares boutique in Montreal lined in plywood with custom shelving, first designed by Laporte in 1975 and subsequently as a series of rooms made possible when the owner bought out the neighbours.

Owner of Arthur Quentin,  Renée Fournier, looking out from her boutique onto St. Denis, with L’Express across the street.

Inside Luc Laporte’s live-work studio on Square Saint-Louis in Montreal’s Le Plateau neighbourhood. A space with boat-like efficiency and everything you need: some dishes, sugar and coffee. Most meals Laporte enjoyed at restaurants and cafes. (yes, he was single and without children.)

Books in Laporte’s studio – not surprisingly, Eileen Gray, a great designer of exquisite small spaces, features among them.

The plaque on the front facade of L’Express.  A lot of architects say nothing at all with big buildings.  Laporte said a lot about ways to satisfy our cravings for small social spaces.

friendship binds cities (Aristotle)

friendships are the glue to cities, and this doesn’t just mean intensification and destiny.  city sidewalks are long, linear stages for conversation.

so are outdoor dining rooms

and breakfast places that become bars at night

or art exhibitions to navigate

cities are where friendship finds alchemy in colour and light

where there also causes to defend.  Here, the sculpted white-bronze facade of the American Folk Museum, slated for demolition by its hungry neighbour, the Museum of Modern Art, NYC.

the urban likes of the millennial generation (milly-gen)

The Millennial Generation (born between 1980 – 2000) believes in beauty in design and architecture. They skirt the windswept modern plazas to seek out cities with secret courtyards and rooms, such as this 12th century university centre in the walkable neighbourhood of Hauz Khas, New Delhi, India.

One of the cafes (actually it’s a tea salon) preferred by the Millennial Gen in Hauz Khas, New Delhi.

It’s possible to spot Milly-Gen neighbourhoods in cities around the world.  Watch for cultural fusion and art that’s part of streetlife, not sequestered to institutions.  In Istanbul, eclectic vintage stores are layered next to antique jewellers next to architecture studios in Tophane district across the river from the ancient Hagia Sophia. Even the heaps of garbage on the sidewalk are artful.

The Milly-Gen tends to be well-travelled and well-educated.  They’re foodies with a love of eclectic, locally-grown dishes that pull on old traditions.  This fresh Istanbul breakfast served in a neighbourhood transitioning from strict Muslim…

In Toronto at the Stop Market anti-poverty fundraiser – a crowd of Milly-Gens contemplates life in the big city, naturally, in a parking lot.  Values of the Millennial Generation in Big City Canada: EQUALITY OF THE SEXES; PERSONAL CREATIVITY; NEED FOR ESCAPE; CULTURAL FUSION; FLEXIBILITY OF GENDER IDENTITY; CONTROL OF DESTINY; ECOLOGICAL LIFESTYLE; INTROSPECTION AND EMPATHY; EQUAL RELATIONSHIP WITH YOUTH;  GLOBAL ECOLOGICAL AWARENESS; DISCRIMINATING CONSUMERISM; PURSUIT OF ORIGINALITY; SOCIAL LEARNING.

(Environics Analytics)

sidewalk art

Fresh roses, rue des Archives, Paris, after the March snowstorm

Ile Saint-Louis church poster on wooden poster board

Grand creme, late afternoon lunch, at the ever venerable Les Deux Magots (1884).

The passing of time, church foundation wall, Ile Saint-Louis.

Spice and pepper stall, open-air spring market, Aix-en-Provence

Lemons fresh from Spain at Aix market.

Red Hot: Palais Garnier, Paris

Palais Garnier, Paris, was designed in the late 1800s by the young, unknown, competition-winning architect, Charles Garnier.  Because of the Palais Garnier’s wicked – and entirely appropriate – design drama I’d take this opera house (1875) any day over the tech-hygienic Bastille Opera House (1989), designed by another unknown, Canadian Carlos Ott.  At Palais Garnier, the painted-canvas house curtain is a lush interpretation of a draped curtain, complete with gold braid and pompoms. The horseshoe-shaped auditorium has 1,900 red velvet seats on the orchestra floor, balcony and arranged in the private ‘loge’.

My favourite ticket: 1ere loge, Palais Garnier.  Red velvet chairs that the Marquis de Sade would have thoroughly enjoyed.

1ere loge, anti-chamber. Framed behind red drapery, this private, intimate room comes with a mirror, a fold away table and a red velvet couch.  If I could, I’d make my pied-a-terre apartment here as writer-in-residence.

Wall upholstery – dedication to the textures of red that the Metropolitan Opera in NYC only begins to explore.

Past the pleated drapery, looking out.

Views up to the fantastic crystal chandelier and, for the reinvented dome, Chagall’s riot of colours, completed in 1966, nearly a century after Garnier made his epic design move.

great expectations for wood

I’m flying across Canada this week to speak at the Wood Design Awards at the new green-roofed Convention Centre in Vancouver. My theme? It’s time to embrace wood as the building material of the 21st century. Too many of the world’s carbon emissions come from the manufacture of concrete and steel. (The International Energy Agency (IEA) estimates that for every 10 kilos of cement created, six to nine kilos of CO2 are produced.)  Wood speaks to our minds and our hearts, like this tree house  delicately suspended by cables without any tree-damaging nails.  Lyrically designed by Farrow Partnership Architects for the 5-star E’Terra eco-resort located in the UNESCO World Biosphere Reserve, near Tobermory, Ontario.
Wood satisfies our deep, ancestral connection to nature’s beauty, which has been traced back to the magnificent acacia tree with its complex fractal geometry in the African Savannah.

Wood is the most ancient building material.  But construction methods have stayed relatively primitive.  This is the log home built by my great grandparents, Barney and Sarah Griffith when they left Minnesotta and travelled on the C.P.R. to homestead in Saskatchewan.  That was back in the late 1800s.   That idea of basic wood construction (2 X 4 wood frame construction) still dominates the housing sector.

Standing underneath the vaulted ceiling in our upstairs living room feels a lot like being suspended below a canoe.  Actually, oak flooring was applied piece by piece (by a patient and talented architect turned craftsman) to the ceiling – one member at a time – much like the construction method used by my great grandparents.

It’s time to modernize the  wood building industry.   Cross-laminated timber can give plenty of structural muscle to civic and commercial architecture.  Designed by Montreal’s Saucier + Perrotte architectes this soccer field celebrates the power of wood architecture – and points to the future of spirit-warming, eco-friendly wood.

Expect wood architecture – even all-wood towers – to start splashing out around the world.  This free-wheeling atrium is part of Wood City, an all-wood development sited on a former cargo harbour in Helsinki, Finland.  The client is the forest company Stora Enso;  Anttinen Oiva Architects are the competition-winning designers.  Looks like being inside the belly of a whale.  Or a canoe.

herringbone and white marble

The herringbone oak floors in the Musée Rodin, Paris, are just part of the magnificence of the 18th-century Hotel Biron where Rodin once lived.  As The Kiss was unavailable, I took the flooring idea back home with me.

Wise craftsmen from Poland, newly arrived in Canada, laid our floor with white oak sourced from Pennsylvania.  Then we layered in textures, collaging industrial objects against modern-era design. The metal stools originally belonged to a garment factory.  Black leather for the seats and cow hides came from the classic Toronto-based Perfect Leather, one of the last hold outs on King St. West, despite constant offers from condo developers.  The length of the marble counter was dictated by a 10-foot slab of Italian Bianco we found from a local supplier. Photographed on a TGIF late afternoon.

When it’s -15 degrees Celsius outside it’s essential to have warming zones inside.  The table on  castors is part of the 1960s aluminum series by Charles and Ray Eames.  Chess set hand-crafted by my talented father-in-law, Bill Terry.  And this pair of chairs – found in derelict condition – was collected for their distinct personalities.  The old radiator, found on Craig’s List, weighs about 500 pounds.  Now we can never move.

Across the Atlantic, the white minimal aesthetic mixes it up with industrial-stained wooden floors in a herringbone pattern.  Nice juxtaposition.  This kitchen/dining space is part of a seven-unit housing complex designed by Metaforme of Luxembourg. Credit image: Steve Troes fotodesign.

Here’s the context: A white box accommodating seven housing units with cut-aways for entrances and views…a smart and original densification of a suburban neighbourhood.

Inside, there’s a smart idea about planting air-revitalizing plants directly into the floor and directing sun captured from above into the interior garden.

Bad design idea:  putting a toilet within full viewing next to the bed. Why? But let’s not end on this.

The herringbone is so named for the skeletal pattern of the herring fish.  I don’t eat herring, but am sure thankful for its luminous, complex wonder.