One of the four buildings still standing (if barely) when we purchased Rosslyn in 2006, rehabilitating the icehouse has long been a priority. And just as long — or almost as long — we’ve postponed all but its most critical preservation. As one of the extant bridges to Rosslyn’s past, we still hope/plan to tackle this utility building. The posts below will offer a glimpse into why, when, and maybe even how Rosslyn’s icehouse was, is, and will continue to be important.
The second *official* week of our icehouse rehab project has come and gone. Please excuse the tardy week-in–review. Better late than never! (Did you miss last week? Here’s the link: “Icehouse Rehab 01: The Ice Hook“.)
The idea behind these weekly updates, chronicling our progress on the icehouse rehabilitation project is multifaceted (ie. muddled and evolving.) As I recap the second week, here are few of the underlying objectives:
recognize/celebrate our distributed team (Trello to coordinate, @rosslynredux to showcase, rosslynredux.com to chronicle, etc),
transparently map our rehabilitation process, accounting for the ups and the downs without “airbrushing” the journey (rehab inside out)
document our fourth and final historic rehabilitation project at Rosslyn,
inspire others to undertake similarly ambitious and rewarding rehab adventures, ideally with an eye to adaptive reuse of existing structures,
and leverage this current experience as a way to revisit and reevaluate our previous sixteen years of Rosslyn rehab ad infinitum.
Overview
Code officer and carpenters troubleshooting (Source: R.P. Murphy)
In broad strokes, the week started with a site visit from Colin Mangan, the Town of Essex Code Enforcement Officer, included a site visit from John Bean, the sales rep for Windows & Doors By Brownell (who is coordinating new windows and doors), and ranged from prepping foundation for concrete forming and pouring to refastening the existing cladding (two layers s) to the studs. Also lots of small projects and final materials estimates for insulated panels, replacement clapboard, etc.
In addition, Hroth was able to begin work first finisher/refinishing lumber that we will be using in the project.
Garapa Re-Milling
We have begun re-milling and re-planing garapa decking salvaged from Rosslyn’s summer 2022 deck rebuild. These sample boards are among the many weathered specimens carefully removed this spring and summer prior to rebuilding Rosslyn’s deck substructure and re-decking with new garapa. Hroth’s patient. Hroth’s patient exploratory experimentation is the first phase in our effort to adaptively reuse this character-rich material in the icehouse. Still preliminary, but exciting possibilities ahead!
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Homegrown Lumber
Another exciting milling and planing project underway is looong overdue. Rosslyn’s carriage barn is stocked floor to ceiling with years and years of lumber grown, harvested, milled, and cured on our property. Two local sawyers, Mark Saulsgiver and Andy Vaughan, labored over the years to transform trees felled by storms (and for reopening meadows) into finish lumber. Well cured and stable, ash and elm is now being planed and dimensioned for use inside the icehouse. That’s right, it was grown, harvested, milled, and dried on site.
Thank you, Hroth, for painstakingly preparing and analyzing this beautiful material to help plan icehouse rehab.
To remain nimble amidst unpredictability and unforeseen challenges, optimistic astride setbacks and failures, innovative and creative under duress. And to navigate gratefully and passionately at all times.
From carpentry fiasco (boathouse gangway) to carpentry triumph (house deck), from summer to autumn (bittersweet seasonality), from hale and hardy to COVID crash dummy, from perennially postponed icehouse rehab to 100% timely reboot, from Adirondacks to southwest,… We are awash in transitions!
Hyde Gate, Essex, NY (Illustration by Kate Boesser for All My Houses, by Sally Lesh)
One of the unanticipated joys of living at Rosslyn (aka Hyde Gate) has been discovering the property’s legacy. Prior to purchasing our home, neither my bride nor I had ever stopped to consider the impact that these four buildings clustered along the shore of Lake Champlain might have had on others before us.
One recent reminder was the first chapter of All My Houses in which octogenarian Sally Lesh chronicles her itinerant life story by way of the many homes in which she has resided. Published in 2005, Lesh’s memoir is available online and — if luck’s on your side — at your neighborhood bookstore where the aroma of fresh brewed coffee, the sedative shuffling of pages and the muffled whispering of customers might transport you to wintry Essex, New York by way of Boston, Massachusetts.
Hyde Gate, Essex, New York
Lesh opens the memoir with her birth on Janurary 19, 1921 in Boston, but the title of her first chapter and the origin of the journey she intends to chronicle is Hyde Gate, Essex, New York. This quirky collection of reminiscences is not altogether unlike a literary charm bracelet. Though, it is a bit longer than a bracelet… Is there such a thing as a charm necklace? In any case, the back cover blurb promises plenty of shiny if slightly tarnished charm.
Meet Sally Lesh, mother of eight, (descendant from Royalty), traveler from New England to bush Alaska, Inn keeper, cow milker, weaver, ferry steward, farmer, wife to a doctor, and author of Lunch at Toad River. Read her down-to-earth life story spanning 84 years full of ingenuity, humor, independence, and a love of life as it unfolds. (All My Houses a Memoir)
The first charm on Lesh’s necklace is Hyde Gate, Rosslyn by a different name. Though her memory falters when describing the home’s fabrication, the illustration and subsequent description make it abundantly clear that our journeys have overlapped not in time but in place.
My parents, Sarah “Sally” Carter Townsend and Ingersoll Day Townsend were living in Essex, New York, on the shore of Lake Champlain. The property was known as Hyde Gate, and it extended from the water’s edge well back into the meadows and woods. The house was nicely proportioned wood frame building. A veranda ran across the front and around the two sides, giving a gracious and welcoming aspect. The house exterior was painted yellow with white trim, except for the big front door. That was dark green. A long flight of wide steps led up to the veranda and the main entrance…
I never found out what those nine servants did in that large house. I know about Nana, and there must have been a laundress to handle the piles of sheets, towels, tablecloths, napkins, baby clothing, and Bobby’s little cotton outfits. I’m sure there was a cook, because Mother couldn’t even boil water. There had to have been a yard man or gardener, for everything that came to the table was grown in our garden. And there must have been at least two maids to clean. Mother wouldn’t have known what a dust mop was, let alone how to use it. That makes five. What on earth did three more do?
Directly across the road, ice was cut every winter from the frozen lake surface. All these years later, I can picture the huge square hole full of dark water where the big blocks of ice had been cut by men using long saws. Each block was then hauled out. I have no idea how the block of ice was carried up the steep rocky bank and across the road, up the sloping driveway past the house, past the big barn that houses the carriage and the car, and finally to the icehouse, where it was buried in sawdust. We had iceboxes then, no refrigerators. The ice was broken into square chunks that fit neatly into the tin-lined top compartment of the icebox. I do clearly recall picking tiny bits of sawdust out of my summertime lemonade throughout my childhood. (All My Houses a Memoir, by Sally Lesh)
A year later, Lesh explains in the second chapter, Hyde Gate was sold. It had been owned by her grandmother, Louisa Johnson Townsend, who also owned the Stone House in Essex (where Sally’s family moved next) as well as a seasonal camp on Lake Champlain and “a large old house in Oyster Bay on Long Island, next to Theodore Roosevelt’s home, and a place with a banana tree in New Orleans”. A well healed granny by the sound of it!
Sticks or Bricks? Hyde Gate Remembered…
It’s worth noting that the house was constructed out of brick (with stone foundations) and not wood. But this detail — like the soft math when recollecting the number and function of servants — matters little and reveals the patina-ing power of time’s passage. The other notable difference between Hyde Gate as Lesh describes it and Rosslyn as she stands today is that the veranda has been removed, revealing an older — and most likely original — stone stairway and entrance. The owner from whom we purchased the property undertook this alteration in a nod to historic authenticity. He too felt obliged to leave his imprint on the front facade of the house and erected a Greek Revival columned entrance roof which incorporates subtle Georgian detailing which I’ll share in a subsequent post.
Hyde Gate Gardens-to-Table
This weekend I will transplant tomatoes, eggplants, pepper plants and artichokes into our own garden which accounts for much of the what graces our dining table during the summer and fall each year. Rhubarb and asparagus have been coming in for weeks, and the strawberry patch is currently covered in blossoms. Fruit trees, bushes, brambles and vines add to the Rosslyn harvest, and an attractive herb garden close to the kitchen fortifies our recipes and intoxicates our nostrils whenever it rains or the wind blows out of the south. Almost a century after Sally Lesh’s brief sojourn at Hyde Gate, a gastronomic connection to the land endures. But the icehouse has long since surrendered its critical warm weather role, and the apiculture which occupied her father (he sold five tons of honey per year) has vanished.
With luck we’ll returning to beekeeping some day in the future, if for no other reason than to improve the pollination in our small orchard. And honey, fresh out of the comb? Divine. I’m adding it to the wish list. Right after ducklings…
Acknowledgments
Although it would have been wonderful indeed to stumble upon this memoir quite by accident only to discover my home on the first page, I feel equally fortunate to have been guided by my Essex neighbor Tilly Close who showed me the book last summer. She knew the author and suggested that I dip into the property’s legacy from a fresh perspective. Thank you, Mesdames Lesh and Close.
Bathhouse on Rosslyn Waterfront (Source: Todd Goff)
Meet the former Rosslyn bathhouse. No longer extant on our waterfront, this charming building still exists nearby, having migrated south decades ago (or so we understand.) As boating and swimming (aka bathing) season yield to fall foliage and Canada geese migration, it seems a suitable moment to revisit a post I shared on the Essex community blog on June 17, 2013.
My post focused on the photograph above which features a lakeside utility building and remnants of a crib dock / pier extending out into Lake Champlain. This historic photograph was gifted to me by Essex neighbor and friend Todd Goff some years ago, and it stands as one of relatively few visual records documenting this iteration of Rosslyn’s waterfront.
It’s time to wander out on a proverbial limb. And despite a lifelong penchant for climbing trees I’m not 100% confident with this morning’s adventure. I’m hoping that you’ll help me!
When we posted this mystery photograph on the Essex community blog as part of the Vintage Essex Trivia series, we asked readers to guess the subject of the photo. We were looking for answers to questions like these:
Where was the photograph taken?
When was it taken?
What is the little building?
Does the little building still exist?
While previous Vintage Essex Trivia posts rendered plenty of history, rumor and anecdote, this photograph only resulted in two guesses from members of the community. There’s a reason for that. The scene captured by Gene Van Ornam (Geri Van Ornam’s father) in this photograph no longer exists in Essex. The wiles of time have transformed this waterfront more than once, but there are still some vital clues to guide us.
CLUES: SHERWOOD INN & ROSSLYN WATERFRONT
Despite the almost deafening sound of digital silence which greeted this most recent challenge, two oracular residents shed light on the photograph.
“This looks like a no longer existing precursor to the Sherwood Inn dock.” — Diane Lansing
“Looks like a precursor to the Rosslyn dock, based on the topography of the hillside. But that’s a total guess on my part.” — Kathryn Reinhardt (@adkkathryn)
Both Diane and Kathryn are correct. Bravo!
The stony pier (crib dock) actually predates the Sherwood Inn (though by how many years I’m uncertain), and remnants of it still exists today. The topography and pier are indeed helpful clues, but perhaps the most telling detail is the stone retaining wall which girds the bottom of the hillside.
The stone terracing has endured the wrath of icy flows and swirling floods. Or at least, most of it has endured Lake Champlain’s persistent threat. The 2011 floods which initiated this blog damaged Rosslyn’s waterfront, and reparations are ongoing. But the stone terracing and ramp are once again restored, offering a contemporary context for the historic photograph above.
The photograph below confirms the hypothesis that the building is the former Rosslyn bathhouse.
Special thanks to Diane and Kathryn for your sleuthing, Todd Goff for the superb photograph of Rosslyn bathhouse, and Shirley LaForest for the color postcard image which helps solve the mystery.
Identify established, one significant mystery remains. We’ve confirmed that the building appearing in both of the photographs above depicts the former Rosslyn bathhouse, but I can also confirm that it no longer stands lakeside on Rosslyn’s waterfront. What happened to it?
This is where I climb out onto that proverbial limb. Are you ready?
I’ve been told on several occasions by different people that the building now absent on Rosslyn’s flood-challenged hillside is none other than the charming cottage on Whallons Bay known as the Green Frog. In fact, I’ve even been told that it was transported from the Rosslyn waterfront to its present perch by dragging it over the frozen waters of Lake Champlain. Now that — hauling the Rosslyn bathhouse over the ice, perhaps with a robust team of draft horses? — is a vintage photograph I’d love to discover!
Perhaps you’ve heard the same thing? Or maybe you can offer a different explanation for what happened to the Rosslyn bathhouse?
Photo of Green Frog (Source: Todd Goff)
Photo of Green Frog (Source: Todd Goff)
At the very least it’s clear from the photographs above that the Green Frog, if it is in fact the former Rosslyn bathhouse, has been significantly remodeled over time. Hhhmmm… I’m not certain the second part of this mystery is resolved. Yet. But if/when I learn anything further, I’ll definitely update this post.
Our first full workweek is in the rearview mirror, so Rosslyn’s icehouse rehabilitation is officially underway. No gold plated spade plunged into the earth, no glossy speeches, and no hoopla aside from a collective sigh of relief, some well earned rest today, and an antique ice hook. A what?!?! More about the ice hook in a moment.
Let the photo above be proof that clean-out and demo are now complete. It’s time to commemorate the ceremonial starting point for our long anticipated quest to rehabilitate Rosslyn’s historic utility building into a functionally relevant utility building for the 21st century. In the weeks ahead we’ll share the vision, introduce the team transforming this vision into reality, and invite you into the collaborative creative process.
Week 01 Recap
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The short videos above and below offer the best insight into progress and present conditions.
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Although last week was the first *official* foray into this project, it was made possible by several weeks of preliminary work completed by Pam and Tony (emptying the contents of the building, inventorying the architectural salvage and building materials that will be repurposed in this project, transporting and storing everything into the carriage barn and a rented storage container parked west of the barns for the duration of the project.) There’s always a lot more to launching a new construction project than expected, and ample credit is due to everyone — Pam, Hroth, Tony, Eric, Andrew, Justin — who successfully tackled the site prep. And behind the scenes, Tiho Dimitrov spent the week fine-tuning construction plans in conjunction with Thomas Weber who’s responsible for engineering the structural plan. All of these committed collaborators have gotten us to the starting gate.
The Ice Hook
I mentioned above an antique ice hook, and the photograph below illustrates exactly what I was referring to. Disinterred by Tony while cleaning out and grading the dirt floor of the icehouse, this badly corroded artifact bears an uncanny resemblsnce to a common tool of yesteryear: the handheld hook. This implement was most often used for 1) grabbing and hauling ice blocks and/or 2) carrying hay bales. The location where this relic was discovered (as well as plenty of examples uncovered by quick research online) strongly suggest that this is an antique ice hook. What do you think?
Some progress is pretty. Framing new window aprtures, for example. And some progress is practical. Installing helical piers, for example. Insulation installation is *indisputably* in this second category. And yet, aaahhh… What a relief to have the first phase of insulation complete!
The crawlspace beneath the main floor is now isolated from what will become the first floor by a whole lot of insulation. If you look closely in the photo above you’ll see small furring strips installed at the bottom of the floor joist. We installed 2″ rigid foam insulation board on top of these and then sprayed in XXX of closed cell foam insulation.
Because this is an historic rehabilitation project, preserving the original stone foundation was critical. Successfully pinning the new foundation to the old (ensuring structural integrity for new construction) prevented us from isolating the thermal bridge (old stone foundation plus new concrete foundation and slap). So we framed in a gap around the entire perimeter of the building that allowed us to create a spray foam insulation barrier, minimizing the transfer of cold exterior temperatures during the wintertime. We also foamed the entire curb inside the crawlspace, to further isolate the thermal bridge and reduce interior and exterior temperature exchange. The photo above shows the framing gap around the perimeter, filled with foam insulation.
After Insulation Installation…
Once the spray foam insulation installation was complete, it was time for a subloor.
Supi guided this important step forward so that we can set up staging to frame the west and east gable end windows.
Icehouse Subfloor Installation Almost Complete (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
In this final photo you can see the last narrow strips of subfloor are about to be installed. Not bad for a day’s work!
Insulation Installation and Subfloor Mashup
Haven’t done an exceptionally thoughtful writeup with this post, so perhaps remixing into a begin-to-end recap of the first phase insulation installation and subfloor installation will fill in some gaps. Hope so!
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Thanks to Kevin’s spray foam insulation team and everyone else who helped us to reach this next significant milestone. Just imagine once the walls and roof are insulation and the ZIP System panels are installed around the interior exterior envelope. Might start to warm up a little…
Nothing like a region-wide winter weather system barreling down on you to accelerate winter-proofing the construction site, right?!?! But racing the arrival of a pre-Christmas blizzard isn’t the only motivation for the sudden transformation from 100+ year old T&G sheathing to green ZIP System insulated panels though. We’ve been working toward this goal for weeks. Zipping up the icehouse is actually accomplishing several objectives at once.
Okay, let’s start with the most obvious, short term, practical objective of installing the insulated panels on the exterior of the building. But first, I should qualify what I meant by transforming “100+ year old T&G sheathing to green ZIP System insulated panels.” In this case, transformation does not imply replacing the existing sheathing with the SIPs. Instead, these insulated panels are being installed over top of the existing sheathing. And, as explained previously, the existing sheathing for the icehouse exterior walls is actually two layers of 3/4” T&G sheathing separated by perpendicular furring strips that accommodate ooolllddd school insulation that appears to have been made from shredded newsprint.
Given midwinter construction, adding the ZIP panels efficiently creates a building envelope around the entire structure, allowing interior climate control. Windows and doors will not be delivered and installed until springtime, so this cocoon will stabilize the temperature and humidity for construction while significantly improving the work environment.
Zipping Up the Icehouse (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
That’s the short term, practical objective.
There are some structural benefits as well, augmenting the existing structure (which predates our modern building codes) by creating a structural exoskeleton, that, among other things, dramatically improves sheer strength.
We’re using ZIP System 1-1/2“ thick R-6 insulated panels from Huber Engineered Wood. In addition to insulation and structural objectives, these panels also provide a moisture and air barrier between interior and exterior environments.
ZIP System Insulated R-sheathing is the simple all-in-one structural panel with built-in exterior insulation. Featuring integrated moisture, air and thermal protection, ZIP System R-sheathing completely reimagines traditional wall assemblies by streamlining exterior water, air and thermal management.
And there are some aesthetic benefits specific yo the icehouse. Preserving the original mortared stone foundation created meant working around inconsistencies such as spots where the framing was proud of the foundation and others where the foundation actually extended out beyond the framing. Aside from the visual incongruities, this has created moisture penetration and rot issues over the building’s many years of service. When we stabilized the structure in 2006-7 it was necessary to replace large sections of the rotten sill. Additional rehabilitation was necessary this fall as well. By adding an extra 1-1/2” skin around the exterior of the icehouse (and integrating a copper drip edge / flashing that isolates wood from masonry) the entire build now overhangs the foundation enough to manage moisture, snow, etc. for another 100+ years.
But wait… There’s more!
The panels are permitting us to tune up some of the geometry — wall planes and trim lines that have deviated and deflected, sagged and bowed over the years — so that the rehabbed icehouse stands proud next summer.
Rendering for Icehouse Rehabilitation, West Elevation with Gable End Window (Source: Tiho Dimitrov)
Bar none, the west elevation of Rosslyn’s icehouse is undergoing the most consequential transformation of all four facades. From clapboard, clapboard, clapboard (except for the second story access door) and minimalist-but-classic barn vernacular architecture, to a veritable wall of glass at ground level and a picturesque gable end window above, the metamorphosis is a sweeping reimagination of an environment often disregarded (perhaps simply overlooked) en route to the vegetable gardens, orchard, back meadows, etc.
To be 100% unequivocal, this understated facade was incredibly pleasing to the eye long before the icehouse rehab was launched.
Icehouse, West Elevation (Photo: Geo Davis)
Even in the dead of winter, when Rosslyn’s lawns and gardens swaddled in snow, this facade is captivating.
Icehouse, West Elevation (Photo: Geo Davis)
And when viewed as a 2-part barn duo with the carriage barn — after all, the impression from most vantage points on Rosslyn’s front property is of both barns’ collective architectural massing — the relationship of scale and perfect classical proportions makes is mesmerizing.
Icehouse and Carriage Barn, from Northwest (Photo: Geo Davis)
I don’t pretend that we’re making a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, but I’m at once optimistic and increasingly confident that our vision, nurtured into a plan by Tiho Dimitrov (architect) with structural oversight of Thomas Weber (engineer), will by late springtime have added a worthy new dimension to this timeless sanctuary.
Framing West Gable End Window
This afternoon’s icehouse rehab update needs few words to convey the impact of Hroth’s progress, framing in the gable end window that will open up breathtaking sunset views from within and will reflect those same spellbinding riots of color onto the large expanses of glass.
Icehouse Gable End Window, West Elevation, Exterior View (Photo: Hroth Ottosen)
By strategically introducing apertures and maximizing transparency in this small structure we’re endeavoring to dilate the living experience beyond the finite building envelope, to challenge the confines of walls and roof, and when possible and esthetically judicious, to improve porosity with abundant new fenestration, dynamic interior-exterior interplay, subtle but impactful landscaping changes (including a new deck) that will work in concert to amplify the breathability of the interior and temptingly invite insiders outside.
Icehouse Gable End Window, West Elevation, Interior View (Photo: Hroth Ottosen)
If you missed the previous west elevation progress report which captured the lower section when it was opened (closed with weatherproofing in the photo above), then it may be a little difficult to imagine the impact of this interior view when BOTH the 1st story glass AND the gable end window are installed. For now you can allow your mind to synthesize the photographs, but within months we’ll be able to show you the new views from the icehouse out to the orchard and beyond.
Icehouse on ice. Yes, this tidy clutch of words and ideas appeals immensely to my poetic perspective on living, but there’s more to it than that. Like so many of the posts I’m revisiting lately, the earliest iteration of this originally somewhat melancholic reflection is nearly a decade old. Like many blog drafts it became an “orphan”, put aside for a day when my time was more abundant or my melancholy was less crowding or my thoughts were better gathered or…
You get the point. As with my poems, I frequently launch into a draft with the passion and clarity of purpose propelling me. And then, something stalls. And the initial foray falters. Or, at the very least, the seed for what I envision writing is cast aside indefinitely.
Often enough I circle back, allowing the persistent relevance of the idea, the recurring urgency to undergird a certain confidence that I might be on to something. That I need to revisit the seed, germinate it, nurture it.
This is the case with my work on preservation by neglect. The idea is baked into my love for and efforts toward rehabilitating old buildings, and it’s in many respects more compelling to me than the finished accomplishments of a preservation project. Not sure I’m ready to put my finger on exactly why yet, but it’s akin to my penchant for wabi-sabi. In my perspective there is profound beauty in the imperceptibly slow entropic forces revealed in aging, even failing, man-made artifacts. Sorry, that’s a major mouthful and earful, and it’s a bit of a mind bender. That’s why I’m not yet ready to flesh this idea out. I’m still trying to sort it for myself. Hopefully soon I’ll be able to better articulate what’s percolating in my noggin.
I’m wandering afield, so I’ll lap back to my earlier intentions.
Ice House, Northeast Side (Source: Jason McNulty)
Icehouse Rehab Revisited
Icehouse on ice. Again.
Rehabilitating (and repurposing) Rosslyn’s historic icehouse is an ongoing desire. Has been since the outset. But advancing this desire to rehabilitate the icehouse has been chilling on ice almost as long.
Going all the way back, since the summer of 2006 when we purchased this property, we’ve wanted to transform this obsolete utility building into a relevant-for-the-21st-century utility building. But, alas, we’ve perennially and indefinitely postponed the project for a variety of reasons. Actually that’s not 100% true. We ensured the building’s preservation back in 2006-6 by tackling the most pressing challenges.
We stabilized the failing structure, replaced the failed roof, repaired the crumbling stone foundation and upgraded the mechanicals. But then we mothballed the project, deferring the next phase indefinitely until circumstances warranted moving forward. For several years we’ve used the ice house as a storage and maintenance annex for the carriage barn, but recently we’ve begun to address a sustainable plan for use. I hope to address this in more depth over the course of the next year. But for now, I’ll just say that we understand that simply stabilizing the building is not enough. Successful rehab demands a sustainable plan for use. And we’re working on it! (Source: Demolition Dedux )
But once the icehouse’s structural integrity was restored, we shifted further rehabilitation off the short-term priority list. It could wait. It would have to wait. Completing the house rehab (and the boathouse rehab) had proven challenging enough. Hemorrhaging time and money, our scope of work had been repeatedly curtailed, narrowing to the two most essential buildings.
Ice House, East Side (Source: Jason McNulty)
Icehouse On Ice, Hurrah!
Let’s step back a moment, before moving onto the exciting update (in the next section as well as several other recent posts) about the looong neglected icehouse rehabilitation coming to an end at last.
This handsome little outbuilding has endured for six score and more — probably about 130 years or so, but how could I resist the chance to borrow that linguistic artifact when polishing an aged subject?!?! — rugged winters and sultry summers. And looking around it’s pretty evident that most icehouses haven’t endured. They’ve largely vanished from historic view-sheds throughout the country. But this well built, classically proportioned addition to Rosslyn’s timeless property remains with us, ready for a new chapter.
Although various reasons likely underpin the icehouse’s endurance, and the attentions of previous owners are no doubt high on this list, I would suggest that one of the reasons we’re now fortunate to undertake a purposeful re-imagination of this building is that it’s been preserved for more than a century, in large part, by neglect. First and foremost it wasn’t demolished to make way for other needs (such as the clay tennis court that adjoins its west and northwest flank). And it wasn’t adapted into a chicken coop or conjoined with the carriage barn or… It served a limited functional purpose for at least two previous owners that I’m aware of (one as part of honey-making accommodations and another as a woodworking shop), but the building wasn’t irretrievably bastardized to fulfill its temporary needs. And this, as mentioned elsewhere, so forgive my repetition, is the best argument for preservation by neglect.
Ice House, Northwest Side (Source: Jason McNulty)
Icehouse On Ice No More
After sixteen years, we’re finally moving forward. And not just baby steps this time. Building on the original infrastructure improvements from 2006-7 and drawing upon a decade and a half of perspective gained from actually living on this benevolent property, we’re now ready to rejigger our original vision, tempering the lofty, grounding the capricious, and infusing new relevance into this landmark utility space.
Ice House, North Side (Source: Jason McNulty)
I will be sharing new plans as we move forward, showing here what we presented to the Town of Essex Planning Board last month. There are still some adjustments to be made following our public hearing and project approval last week. I’ll delve into those details separately as well. But in the mean time I’ll like to honor the beginning of the thaw, the un-icing of this too long postponed project. And it struck me as a poignant opportunity to showcase images that were gifted to us by Jason McNulty. The photographs taken by him on November 8, 2004 and were sent to us on July 6, 2010 following his first return visit back to Rosslyn, the house where he grew up. There is a personal appeal for me, glimpsing the property well before we owned it. And the gratitude we felt upon receiving the images a dozen years ago is rekindled now as we initiate our preliminary stage of rehabilitation.
Team Barbecue: Peter, Hroth (back l-to-r), Supi, and Pam Hroth (front l-to-r)
Another short and sweet post to mark the end-of-week team barbecue. With four fifths of the icehouse concrete dream team present (Tony was unable to join), it was a well earned chance to take a break from work and celebrate.
Susan and I are profoundly grateful for the problem solving and priority juggling and camaraderie and diligence and expertise and enthusiasm and accomplishments of this crew. Thank you.
Eric Crowningshield Framing Icehouse Floor (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
What. A. Week. It’s a bit of a three ring circus at Rosslyn lately. So many projects happening concurrently. And so many invested, industrious, upbeat, solution-centric colleagues helping us repurpose Rosslyn’s circa 1889 icehouse rehabilitation into the ultimate 21st century flex-work-lifestyle hub. And as of today the first floor is framed!
Icehouse First Floor Framed (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Vision + Ambition + Skills
With such a fortunate gathering of capable tradesmen (and woman) progress this week has reached a new level. A shared vision. An eagerness to advance the mission. An absence of ego. And a shared enthusiasm for the project. If only ever week can run this smoothly!
Although the collaboration of many ensured that the icehouse first floor was framed this week, especial thanks are due Pam, Hroth, Eric, Peter, Andrew, Ben, and Supi for your various contributions. You are truly inspirational. Thank you.
Video Mashup of Floor Framing
If you prefer a quick zip through, then this video mashup is for you.
Hroth Framing Windows in Icehouse (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Although sourcing and designing the new windows and doors started this summer, the order wasn’t finalized until late autumn. Rosslyn’s icehouse is a small building, but there were many details to dial-in before production could begin. Precise pitch of the roof (echoed in several windows) and structural integration with windows and doors (especially in the west elevation where the fenestration-to-wall ratio is atypical) were among the challenges that delayed the process. But once the deposit was paid our focus shifted to framing windows.
Icehouse Window Framing Plans with Notes (Photo: Hroth Ottosen)
Starting with the north elevation, the constellation of six windows — three small upper windows echoing the horse stall windows in the carriage barn and three, six-over-six double hung windows, templated from the majority of the windows in the carriage barn — has been framed in. Especial gratitude to Hroth and Eric for jumpstarting this process so that cladding, siding, insulating, electrical installation, etc. can soon follow. Window framing would normally be an exciting step toward natural lighting, but given the lengthy production time on our windows and doors, the rough bucks (window and door framing) will serve as opaque placeholders for a few months longer.
Video Mashup of Framing Windows
Time for a quick zip through framing windows — precisely the first six windows — in the icehouse.
