Tag: Porosity

  • When Apertures Become Windows

    When Apertures Become Windows

    We’ve been finalizing a timely transition from porosity to fenestration in the icehouse rehab. Framed but temporarily concealed apertures have been cut out and transformed into doorways and windows. Jamb extensions, sills, and trims — carpentry confections that conjoin and integrate discrete elements into a cohesive architectural whole — are finally complete inside the icehouse. Exterior trims are still in the works.

    When Apertures Become Windows​ (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
    When Apertures Become Windows​ (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

    In the photograph above the north facing windows in the main room exemplify the coalescing of elements, framing a view of… gravel and dirt!

    This view is evolving as I type. Stone walls and stone steps will define the levels and the transitions between them. In the near ground, a lawn will yield to a stone bordered area of plantings that will bridge the lower elevation outside the deck to the upper elevation where the volleyball and croquet court will once again be located.

    When Apertures Become Windows​ (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
    When Apertures Become Windows​ (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

    With the jamb extensions complete and the window trims installed the next step will be to scrape paint from the windows and install the hardware. Plenty of convergence and completion happening each day…

    XXX

  • Fenestrated Facades

    Fenestrated Facades

    It’s time for an icehouse window installation update. I’m pleased to announce fenestrated facades on all four sides!

    Fenestrated East Facade (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
    Fenestrated East Facade (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

    Aside from window and door trim, three out of four elevations — east (above), south, and north — are now exhibiting their close-to-final appearance. Pretty exciting. Trimming in the jambs will pull it all together, but for now these snapshots offer a pretty good glimpse.

    To refresh your memory, this is a notable threshold because we inverted the typical sequence (install windows and doors first, then install cladding). In other words, our atypical workflow pushed out potential hiccups to the eleventh hour…

    We flip-flopped windows/doors and siding. That’s right, in order to maintain an ambitious timetable… [we installed] exterior and interior cladding prior to installing the windows. This involved some unintuitive workarounds, reverse engineering an otherwise routine process. So… “windowing” the icehouse has been a unique challenge. (Source: Windowing)

    Fortunately, as you can see in the photos, no significant hiccups so far. Only the west elevation (below) is still waiting on installation of the 1st floor double doors and flanking windows. And that’s on hold until flooring is complete. So, hopefully soon!

    Partially Fenestrated West Facade (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
    Partially Fenestrated West Facade (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

    Aside from fun alliteration, fenestrated facades are an aesthetic and functional leap forward, a *GIANT* leap toward our icehouse rehab finish line. Before I explain, let’s take a quick look at the word, “fenestrated”.

    Fenestrated: having one or more openings (Source: Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/fenestrated. Accessed 2 Jun. 2023.)

    So fenestrated facades are elevations with apertures — door(s) and/or window(s) — that transform the porosity and transparency of the domain.

    Fenestrated North Facade (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
    Fenestrated North Facade (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

    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. (Source: Gable End Window in West Elevation)

    The fenestrated facades of Rosslyn’s icehouse define a new aesthetic chapter when viewed from without, evolving not only the looks of this historic building over the last 16–17 years, but also delineating this rehabilitated structure from them way it looked for well over a century. From within, it’s still a little premature to evaluate whether or not we’ve accomplished the lofty goals I listed above. But we can begin to appreciate the dramatic increase in natural light, illuminating the interior of the icehouse.

    Loft Fenestration (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
    Loft Fenestration (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

    Natural light and views. The window in the photograph above will look over Rosslyn front lawns, the back of our home, Lake Champlain, and slender slivers of the Green Mountains. My desk will be positioned below this window, so morning will invite the rising sun into my loft study, shimmering across the lake, illuminating my work.

    In the photograph below the west gable end window will allow afternoon sunlight to flow into the interior, brightening the main room and loft.

    West Gable Fenestration (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
    West Gable Fenestration (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

    Once the double doors flanked with windows, four glass apertures balancing the gable window above, are installed, this west-facing elevation will allow for a seamless interplay of interior and exterior living area. So long anticipated, these fenestrated facades are beginning to bridge the envisioned and the actual. Within weeks I’ll know if we’ve realized the lofty ambition of transforming this small, dark, confined environment into a more ample, permeable, and voluminous experience.

  • The Art of Thresholds

    The Art of Thresholds

    I’m slightly obsessed with transitions and betweenness. Liminality and interstices. Metamorphosis, reawakening, and transformation inevitably weave themselves into my words about gardening and historic rehabilitation. In fact, in a not altogether exaggerated sense, Rosslyn Redux is a kind of carefree contemplation of thresholds, the art of thresholds, and the artifacts of crossing thresholds…

    Transitions. Flux. Liminality. Interstices. Inflection. Evolving.

    […]

    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! (Source: Transitions)

    Supi and Peter Fabricate a Charactered Threshold (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
    Supi and Peter Fabricate a Charactered Threshold (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

    One of the most notable changes in the icehouse rehab is a considerable increase in apertures, transparency, and porosity. With an eye to more seamlessly integrating the interior and exterior experience while reducing the potentially confining ambience of such a small (approximately 18’ x 30’) structure, we have introduced lots of glass.

    Windows and doors blur boundaries between the enclosed environment and the exterior views, landscape, hardscape, decks and courtyard. Within the interior we’ve also endeavored to maximize transparency and porosity by embracing an open plan.

    Only the bathroom is fully enclosed. Other zones (entrance, coffee bar, main room, and loft study/studio/office) flow into one another permitting the small volume to feel more ample. Design continuity and viewshed integration enhance this sense of openness, favoring cohesion and harmony over spatial subdivision by function. And yet, subtle transitions (i.e. a doorway threshold, the staircase and banister to loft.) are present and necessary.

    In these instances delineation and boundaries serve us. Sometimes the utility is practical. For example, the loft is enclosed with a banister that extends from the top of the staircase to the north and south knee walls. Although code compliance is the most obvious reason for this, the underpinning logic is that a railing enclosing the second-story loft ensures that we do not accidentally pitch off the edge. The porosity of railing and balusters affords transparency, but the sturdy boundary ensures safety, as much a visual cue (caution, stay back, etc.) as a functional restraint.

    Flooring transitions and how they help differentiate space and use warrant careful consideration. This is true in the icehouse where the top stair riser meets the loft floor, representing a meeting of dissimilar materials (painted poplar staircase and sealed beech flooring) and a blurring of function (stair tread and flooring). It is also true in the elm and garapa threshold that I conceived and Peter created for the icehouse bathroom doorway.

    The highly charactered elm — grown, harvested, aged, milled, and finished on Rosslyn’s property — will integrate with the ash and elm flooring in the main floor of the icehouse. (Source: Elm and Garapa Threshold)

    Today’s update considers the passage from the east entrance and coffee bar area into the main room of the icehouse. In addition to a shift in function and feel, the 8’ flat ceiling in the entrance and coffee bar area opens up to a 2-story cathedral ceiling in the main room. Accentuating this transition with a pair of columns that flank the passageway adds a touch of drama and playfulness given the incongruity of the diminutive space and the dominant pillars.

    The elm and ash flooring will run east-west, so a threshold of sorts, seamlessly conjoining while differentiating the two zones presented an opportunity. Thresholds — door treads, doorsills, etc. — signal the ending of one space and the beginning of another space. But they often function as weather barrier and/or doorstop as well, resulting in a profile raised above the floor plane. I did not desire this threshold to deviate from the floor. Subtler than a doorway threshold, I nevertheless wanted to offer a visual cue that a transition is being made between two zones, a perhaps subconscious delineation of usage.

    I explained my vision, first to Hroth and subsequently to Peter, for a threshold running perpendicular to the flooring and wide enough to frame the column plinths equally around the outer perimeter. Fabricated out of the same ash or elm that we are using for the floor, I proposed a pair of book matched planks that would cause pause and invite interest. I asked them to think of this over-wide threshold, not as a throwaway intended simply to bridge otherwise similar areas of flooring, but instead as an integrated piece of art. A contiguous embellishment within the broader “tapestry” of the floor. Character-rich grain and coloration. Precise joinery, perhaps an inlaid bowtie if necessary and aesthetically pleasing. An interstitial experience/object as bold and intriguing as the columns that rest upon it.

    Peter Conjoins Charactered Boards for Threshold (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
    Peter Conjoins Charactered Boards for Threshold (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

    As you can see, Peter has begun to transform the vision into reality. A mesmerizing tableau to be tread upon. The art of thresholds.