For such a small scope of work, the icehouse rehabilitation has included some remarkably creative one-offs. The garapa door is one such project: a challenging initiative to upcycle reclaimed garapa decking from Rosslyn’s house deck into a minimalist mechanical room door perfectly camouflaged into tbe bathroom walls.
Today I can report that it’s been a triumph!
Garapa Door (Photo: Geo Davis)
Dramatic lighting sure brings the oiled garapa to life! Amber grained, horizontal continuity, just barely framed, an intriguing section of the wall that will allow discrete access to the mechanicals. Polished nickel hinges and passage set, but nominal attention drawing exception to the otherwise seamless expanse of repurposed garapa.
Garapa Door (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
I’ll update with a photo once the rest of the hardware is installed…
Just over a week ago I posted a prologue to today’s garapa paneled bathroom update. I apologize if it felt a little half baked.
For just a little longer, I’ll keep you in suspense before I share photos of the now completed garapa installation. Remember, anticipation is half the pleasure! (Source: Garapa Paneled Bathroom, Pt. 1)
I wasn’t teasing out the update for the sake of suspense. I promise. And today’s post will hopefully offer some recompense for your patience. But there was a lot — a LOT — to pack into a single post, so I felt it more reasonable to subdivide it into a couple of installments.
I’m dividing this… update into two posts to fairly review and showcase a project that has taken the better part of a year from beginning to finish… (Source: Garapa Paneled Bathroom, Pt. 1)
Besides, I was about to head into the Gila Wilderness when Eric Crowningshield gave me the good news, and I simply couldn’t squeeze it all in before going off-line adventuring for a week sans connectivity, computer, etc.
But now it’s time to celebrate completion of the icehouse bathroom’s garapa paneling, to showcase the photos, and to sing praises for the carpenter behind this monumental accomplishment.
Eric Crowningshield Installing Garapa Paneling in Icehouse Bathroom (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Garapa Paneling the Bathroom
Upcycling Rosslyn’s deconstructed garapa decking into interior paneling has occupied many members of the icehouse rehab team for months. It’s been a challenge. Every. Single. Step. From demo’ing the old deck (while painstakingly deconstructing, selecting, and grading the most reusable and aesthetically pleasing garapa) to troubleshooting, iterating, and finally re-fabricating the decrepit, timeworn decking into elegant interior finish material, this upcycling endeavor has been an epic quest. And the exacting preparation demanded even more exacting installation.
Garapa Paneling Progress in Icehouse Bathroom (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Today we celebrate Eric’s conscientious carpentry and dogged determination, shepherding the garapa paneling to its exquisite completion! (It’s worth noting that Matt Sayward assisted in the early stages of installation, but Eric soon took ownership of the project to ensure 100% consistency.)
Garapa Paneling Progress in Icehouse Bathroom (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
The following excerpts and photos offer an interesting perspective as Eric worked through installation of the garapa paneling.
Garapa Paneling Progress in Icehouse Bathroom (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
It should go a little quicker now with the breaks in the runs [and] not needing to lineup 4 miters in one location. Nothing about this is easy but my gosh probably one of the most rewarding project thus far… — Eric Crowningshield
Garapa Paneling Progress in Icehouse Bathroom (Photo: Eric Crowningshield)
On the left side of this door it is 3-1/8” from the inside of the door jam to the tile. Do we not put garapa and run a 3” trim around the jam leaving a 1/8” reveal? On the other side we only have about 2”, so I’m guessing it may look odd with wider trim on the left and top. — Eric Crowningshield
The best way to handle the garapa around the door is difficult to determine from afar. My suggestion is that you and Peter look at it together and come up with the best solution. We have some asymmetry to deal with. Tricky. — Geo Davis
I’m going to put horizontal pieces on the left side before trim because the trim on the other side is around 1 3/4” so I think it would look better keeping the same size around the door. — Eric Crowningshield
Garapa Paneling Progress in Icehouse Bathroom (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
I went down tonight for a few hours and ripped some [garapa] down to the same width so the last 4 rows will be the same. Otherwise we were going to end up with a 1” or so piece around the ceiling. I put another row of that up so only 3 rows left. — Eric Crowningshield
How much did you have to takeoff of each of the boards for the last four courses? Or, better question, how different will they be from the rest of the words? — Geo Davis
About 3/8 of an inch. The boards I put up throughout the whole wall ranged from 4” down to 3-5/8” and a few at 3-1/2”. I had 13” left so I was doing 3-1/4” for the last 4 rows. — Eric Crowningshield
Garapa Paneling Progress in Icehouse Bathroom (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
It is completed!!! I love saying that. — Eric Crowningshield
Superb! Congratulations, Erik. It really looks amazing. I hope you’re proud of the results. I know this has been an almost endless process from demoing the deck to installing the paneling, but a worthwhile adventure. Well done. Is everything wrapped up around the door as well? — Geo Davis
No, we are going to adjust the casing so it is the same size trim on each side. Yes, super excited about it and everything it means to you and the story behind it all! — Eric Crowningshield
Garapa Paneling Progress in Icehouse Bathroom (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Bravo, Eric Crowningshield, for completing installation of the glorious garapa paneling in the icehouse bathroom. What a tour de force! It’s hard to believe that this is the same decking your team deconstructed from Rosslyn’s deck a year ago. Many months of brainstorming, experimenting, re-milling, oiling, and installing later this masterpiece is born. Hurrah! — Geo Davis
Garapa Paneled Bathroom (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
It was a task for sure, but the end result more than makes it worth the struggles. It is a must see in person although the pictures capture how amazing it looks, [though] it’s even more impressive in person! — Eric Crowningshield
Garapa Paneled Bathroom (Photo: Eric Crowningshield)
I forgot to tell you. I found one board with plugs still in it, so if you look close it is about midway up the wall between the utility and niche. A couple small ones in the niche as well. I thought that would be pretty cool to help tell the story about it being old decking. Wish I found more. — Eric Crowningshield
Garapa Paneled Bathroom (Photo: Eric Crowningshield)
Thanks for letting me know. I will hunt for them next time I’m back. Although you should’ve left it to see if I noticed! — Geo Davis
Garapa Paneled Bathroom (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
This subtle upcycling/repurposing souvenir isn’t quite discernible in the photo above, but it thrills me. Can’t wait to inspect in person!
Garapa Paneled Bathroom (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
I look forward to sharing more photographs of the icehouse bathroom as it approaches completion. It’s so close… Until then, I’d like to express my profound gratitude to Eric for transforming this vision into reality. What an extraordinary accomplishment!
Eureka! After many months of brainstorming, experimentation, painstakingly protracted preparation, troubleshooting, oiling, and meticulous installation, the garapa paneling in Rosslyn’s icehouse bathroom is complete. What a remarkable journey it’s been, and the final results are breathtaking.
Wayne Oiling Deck in 2009 (Photo: Geo Davis)
Garapa Backstory
Our garapa backstory has its beginning waaayyy back when we built the original garapa deck on the west side of Rosslyn’s ell.
Let’s start by rewinding the timeline to 2008-9. Building the new deck and installing garapa decking was the proverbial caboose in a virtually endless train of construction that started in the summer of 2006. (Source: Garapa Decking 2008-2009)
A touch melodramatic, but the metaphor was (and is) 100% appropriate. It was nothing short of triumphant to finally complete the deck, a real and symbolic final frontier between construction site and comfortable home. It was a much anticipated extension of our indoor living space, a convenient way to access three entrances to the home, and a private exterior zone to dine and relax and entertain.
Carley & Bentley on Old Deck (Photo: Geo Davis)
Fast forward a couple of years, and the triumph began to tarnish.
Long story short, the original deck failed. Not the garapa decking which performed admirably year-after-year. But the substructure.
[…]
Rather than dwelling on the achilles heal that lamentably undermined the integrity of three critical substructures — Rosslyn’s house deck, boathouse gangway, and waterfront stairs — I’ll just say that all three experienced premature decay and rot of the structural lumber…
[…]
Because the substructures began rotting virtually immediately after construction, we spent a decade and a half chasing the problem, scabbing in new lumber, etc. But within the last few years the failure was beginning to outpace our ability to provide bandaids and we scheduled replacement. (Source: Deck Rebuild)
Carley Overseeing Demo of Old Deck (Photo: Geo Davis)
Eric Crowningshield’s team deconstructed much of the deck during the late spring of 2022. When Hroth Ottosen and David McCabe joined them at the beginning of the summer they determined that it was necessary to fully replace rather than repair the existing deck.
Old Deck Demolition (Photo: Geo Davis)
The deconstructed garapa was separated from the structural demolition debris, the highest grade (ergo most salvageable) material was graded, and the best preserved and most character-rich garapa was stored for repurposing in the icehouse rehab project. Then began a lengthy, painstaking upcycling journey.
We’ve been upcycling garapa decking from Rosslyn’s 2008-9 deck that we salvaged and laid aside this past summer. Spanning half a year so far — from deconstructing and culling reusable material midsummer to multiple experiments determining optimal dimensions for adaptive reuse as bathroom paneling — we’re now scaling up production and the results are impressive. (Source: Upcycling Garapa Decking)
By “multiple experiments” I mean empirically evaluating the most aesthetically pleasing, most practical, most installable, and most structurally durable form for the Garapa decking-turned-paneling. Yes, that’s a lot of *mosts* to undertake, but it’s not even the full scope of the challenge.
In addition to devising a perfect product, we needed to coordinate an upcycling process that could be undertaken successfully on site. No loading, trucking, unloading, offsite milling and finishing, reloading, trucking, unloading, storing, etc. It might have been more affordable, and it certainly would’ve been less time consuming, to outsource this project. But that would’ve shifted several variables:
Increasing carbon inputs would have been inconsistent with our reuse objectives.
Transferring oversight to a third party would have reduced our design supervision (while necessitating excess production to ensure sufficient quality during installation.)
Undertaking the upcycling process at Rosslyn allowed for agility and flexibility during the fabrication process, enabling the team to repeatedly test samples in the icehouse, catching small details that might otherwise have been discovered too late, making small alterations, etc.
And despite the inevitable strain (as well as the potential for setbacks) that crept into the equation by committing to on-site fabrication, tackling this challenge in house ensured maximum creative control, significant learning opportunities, rewarding problem solving scenarios, a personalized sense of ownership for those who participated in this project, and a heightened sense of accomplishment upon completion.
In short, upcycling our old garapa deck into the paneling that now distinguishes our icehouse bathroom was a vital, integral component of this adaptive reuse adventure. It was important to me that our team of makers and re-makers have the opportunity to invest themselves fully in this rehabilitation project, that each individual who verily toiled and trusted our vision experience a profound pride of ownership and accomplishment, and that the hyperlocal DNA of this two century old property be honored by favoring ingenuity and endurance over convenience.
From the outset several were intrigued with the potential for this salvaged lumber.
Hroth was an especially good sport, planing board after board and trimming the edges to determine what would work best. (Source: Upcycling Garapa Decking)
Upcycling Garapa (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
As the wear and tear of a decade and a half— heavy foot traffic, enthusiastic labrador retrievers, hardy North Country winters, group grilling and furniture dragging, wine spills and miscellaneous mementos from lots and lots of living — was gradually milled away, the garapa’s handsome heart began to re-emerge.
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 exploratory experimentation is the first phase in our effort to adaptively reuse this character-rich material in the icehouse. (Source: Upcycling Decking Debris)
At last, Hroth perfected the prototype. He then developed a process, a repeatable protocol, for which we could standardize the results primarily relying upon a tablesaw and bench planer. Then he taught Tony how to reproduce the same results in sufficient quantity to panel the still unframed icehouse bathroom.
Tony Upcycling Garapa Decking (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Tony is beavering away industriously… upcycling garapa decking into pristine planks for paneling.
[…]
It’s a slow and painstaking process that demands plenty of patience and focus, but… transforming debris into beautiful finish paneling will prove rewarding, for sure… Tony is even beginning to appreciate what magnificence he is bringing into existence. (Source: Upcycling Garapa Decking)
And so began a winter quest to reinvent debris as functional design-decor.
Time for a progress report on the garapa paneling that will soon embellish the icehouse bathroom. We started out gently easing the edges, but several iterations later we’ve settled on a full roundover. (Source: Garapa Roundover: Easing the Edge)
Months into this painstaking re-manufacturing process, several others had helped Tony from time to time, but there was no illusion. Tony had taken ownership of the garapa upcycling quest!
I joke with Tony that he’s investing lots of love into transforming this material. From debris to centerpiece… he’s literally been working and reworking [this upcycled garapa] since last September or October. That’s a LOT of love! (Source: Garapa Roundover: Easing the Edge)
By late winter Tony had finished planing (down to 9/16”) and dimensioning (down to 4”) the garapa decking. At almost a thousand linear feet we paused and reevaluated the quantity to be certain we would have sufficient usable material for the entire interior of the icehouse bathroom (walls, niche, and mechanical room door).
We revisited options for joining the paneling. To be fastened horizontally to the studs with concealed fasteners, joining the boards would be an important way to stabilize and visually address the gaps between boards. We considered tight lap joints and nickel gap lap joints, eventually settling on a nickel gap T&G type joint. But how best to accomplish this?
Peter’s solution for the ash and elm flooring seemed like our best option for the garapa paneling. We would create garapa splines that would fit into grooves in the sides of the paneling boards. If expansion and contraction (think visible gaps, between boards, etc.) weren’t an issue it might have been viable to just but the boards up against each other. But it’s a bathroom, so fluctuating humidity levels definitely needed to be factored into the equation. The splined joint would be a perfect solution.
And finally there was the question of edging. I wanted to ease the edges just enough to accentuate horizontal shadow lines (which stylistically echo the T&G nickel gap in the rest of interior) while deemphasizing dimensional disparity between boards. So a router joined the production protocol as Tony uniformly finished the visible edges of the paneling.
Garapa Edge Profiles v2.0 (Photo: Geo Davis)
And then there was the final step, oiling the garapa. As often, we turned to Bioshield Hard Oil for a hand rubbed, ecologically responsible finish. Eric’s team tackled the oiling, and the photo above gives you a preview of the garapa, edged and oiled. This was the final sample that we greenlighted before installation began.
And, for just a little longer, I’ll keep you in suspense before I share photos of the now completed garapa installation. Remember, anticipation is half the pleasure!
Installation of Garapa Paneling
I’ve dividing this monumental update into two posts to fairly review and showcase a project that has taken the better part of a year from beginning to finish. Thanks for your patience. I promise you that the photos you’ll witness soon, the finished bathroom paneling, will be worth the wait.
Today it’s commonplace in carpentry and construction to build with materials that are factory finished. In other words, raw materials (flooring, trim lumber, etc.) are delivered to a job site, pre-dimensioned, pre-surfaced, and ready for installation. While there are times (ie. custom windows and doors) that we rely upon the efficiency of offsite fabrication and factory finishing, the icehouse rehab has incorporated an extensive amount of field finishing — on-site material preparation such as re-milling garapa (upcycled from deconstructed deck) into wall paneling and transforming rough cut lumber into finished hardwood flooring — in an effort to repurpose surplus building materials and architectural salvage.
Calvin Field Finishing Woodwork (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
In the photograph above, Calvin Cumm is planing poplar that was harvested and rough-sawn on property approximately a decade ago. We’ve “high graded” the well seasoned poplar, culling the best quality material for finish trim, stair treads and risers, etc. Although the amount of field finishing we’ve undertaken for this project has increased labor inputs and drawn out the timeline, it was one of the defining principles for our scope from the outset. There are quicker and less expensive ways of rehabilitating an obsolescent icehouse into a 21st century work+play hub. But adaptive reuse and upcycling and repurposing are challenges worth investing in as much for ecological responsibility and the enduring value of quality, custom construction as for the merits of collegial collaboration and knowledge-sharing. We habitually eschew “cookie cutter” renovations for creative, consequential challenges that encourage team wide learning. We’re as concerned with process as product. And we love adventures! Reasserting creative control over the ingredients as much as the recipe can yield surprisingly rewarding results. As much for us, the homeowner, as for the remarkable collaborators who’ve contributed to this project.
In the snapshot above, Peter is trimming the top off one of two Greek revival columns deconstructed and salvaged back in 2006 when we rehabilitated Rosslyn’s dining room. Although our vision was to repurpose these bold design elements, to upcycle them some way, somehow, it wasn’t until undertaking the icehouse rehab (after postponing it indefinitely 14 or 15 years ago) that this capricious concept presented itself: use them in the icehouse!
Why, you might well ask, would we need two imposing columns inside the diminutive icehouse? While the question is reasonable, perhaps *need* is not the most appropriate evaluation. After all, adaptive reuse of a utility building originally constructed to fulfill a highly specific (and outdated) function obviously doesn’t *need* handsome embellishments for structural support. And yet the opportunity to re-integrate these historic Rosslyn elements into an otherwise utilitarian barn has presented a whimsical challenge that at some level echoes the unlikely marriage of work space and recreation hub we’re imagining into existence with this newest rehab project.
And soon enough, you’ll be able to witness the capricious way in which this pair of columns (and an understated entablature) not only help support the loft where I’ll be composing these daily dispatches in coming months, but also define and frame a spatial transition from the more intimate entrance and coffee bar into the loftier main room of this small building.
Offcuts from Re-tuning Columns (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Those geometric discs above are actually offcuts from Peter’s column re-tuning. while it’s easy enough for me to conjure these quirky concepts, and similarly viable for Tiho to translate my ideas into drawings, it is left to the alchemy of Peter and other finish carpenters to ultimately morph busily s and plans into reality. Thank you, Peter!
Tuning, Haikus
Re-tuning columns salvaged from a dining room, once deconstructed.
Sometimes a few fingers full of words best communicate a notion nebulous enough to wiggle free of prosaic paragraphs. And other times image, sound, motion speak sounder than words. So I conclude with two haikus, the more familiar variety above, and a quirky mashup below. Enjoy.
Searching for Poetry Amidst Architectural Salvage (Photo: Geo Davis)
Searching for poetry, questing for questions that need no answers to matter and guide and enrich.
This might be my epitaph. Some day. But not yet. I hope.
Today, the vernal equinox, I awoke at 4:00 AM, eager to start cooking a wild boar roast I had thawed. Actually it wasn’t the roast that caffeinated me prior to my first cuppa MUD\WTR, that zero-to-sixtied my green gray matter within seconds.
If the human brain were a computer, it would be the greenest computer on Earth.
You with me? Caveat emptor: it’s going to be that kind of post!
It wasn’t anticipation of the pulled wild boar that I enjoyed for lunch (and soon will enjoy for dinner) that prevented me from falling back asleep. (I love variety, but if it ain’t broke… And if you’ve cooked 5.4lbs of wild boar shoulder, then share, eat, share, eat, share,…)
It was one of those light-switch-on awakenings. Sound asleep one moment, wide awake the next. 100% alert, cylinders thumping away, and focus dialed in. Monday morning’s are often like that for me. And with an ambitious punch list for the icehouse rehab, I needed to hit the ground running. Or jumpstart the week by roasting a wild boar shoulder?
Both.
But, after talking through exterior trim and clapboard siding with two contractors, explaining how to prune watersprouts (aka “growth shoots) out of our mature American Linden to another contractor, and various other midmorning miscellanea, I headed into the carriage barn for some, ahem, research.
I’m still sorting through architectural salvage and surplus building materials, endeavoring to make final decisions for the icehouse. Woulda-coulda-shoulda tackled this many months ago, and I tried, but the process continues to evolve. In some cases, it’s continues to elude me. So my endeavor continues.
Today I ruled out a couple of ideas I’ve been developing, visions for upcycling deconstructed cabinetry from Sherwood Inn days. The visions have faded, but all is not lost. In the shadowy space they’ve left behind, I stumbled upon something else.
A poem.
Searching for Poetry Amidst Architectural Salvage (Photo: Geo Davis)
Searching for Poetry
Wabi-sabi wandering,
wabi-sabi wondering —
reimagining relics,
architectural salvage,
weather worn detritus,
offcuts, rusty remainders,
time textured tatters,
pre-mosaic fragments,
and dust mote mirages —
so much pulling apart,
so much pushing aside,
searching for poetry.
Today I concluded that the vision I’d been pursuing — a vision of upcycling deconstructed cabinetry and paneling from the Sherwood Inn’s colonial taproom — had been little more than mirage. However as this mirage vanished, I happened upon a glimmer of clarity, fleeting but encouraging, around an even bigger mystery that I’ve been chasing. Also mirage-like, also elusive, also a problem that persistence might hopefully tame, also a quest for questions that illuminate and instruct even when their answers evanesce.
This glimmer of clarity (try to imagine a spark that just might benefit from attention, a flickering flame that invites kindling with promises of a roaring bonfire) materialized briefly where moments before a mirage had danced and vanished. And what did I see? Companionship. Kinship. Similarity. Affinity. Between poetry and architectural rehabilitation and adaptive reuse. A glimmer and gone. I exaggerate, but the picture is at once protean, subtle, and elusive.
Nevertheless, I will continue to strive, risk, and experiment. I will continue essaying to illustrate the intimate overlap between poetry and construction — especially between composing lyric essay and adaptive reuse of existing buildings and building materials — until my wandering and wondering renders an oasis. Or admits a mirage.
What wintery wonders shall I share with you today? How about a celebration (and showcase) of upcycled Christmas gifts dreamed into existence by three allstar members of our icehouse rehab team?
Upcycled Christmas Gifts from Pam, Hroth, and Tony (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
[pullquote]These upcycled Christmas gifts are a product and symbol of renewal.[/pullquote]
I talk and I type, but these three creative characters have reimagined and reinvented deconstruction debris into functional art and decor. They transformed a piece of old garapa decking and a handful of icehouse artifacts (uncovered during laborious hand excavation for the new foundation) into a handsome coatrack, and they transformed a gnarled piece of rusty steel back into a museum-worthy ice hook that turns the clock back 100+ years.
Let’s start with the photograph at the top of this post which Pam accompanied with the following note of explanation.
Hroth, Tony and I wanted to wish you both a very Merry Christmas. We came up with the idea to make a coat rack out of repurposed items. The wood is old garapa. I found the spikes in the icehouse during inventory and the hook was also discovered in the icehouse during excavation for the concrete floor/footers. Hroth custom made a handle for the ice hook. We also wanted to add a new hummingbird feeder to the garden outside of the breakfast area. Merry Christmas! — Pamuela Murphy
Perfection! Garapa upcycled from Rosslyn’s 2008-9 deck build and miscellaneous ice hauling artifacts reconciled and reborn as a new coat rack that will greet icehouse visitors upon entering the miniature foyer, and a restored antique ice hook that will be displayed prominently in the main room. Bravo, team.
Upcycled Christmas Gifts from Pam, Hroth, and Tony (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
I was curious how Hroth had fabricated the garapa handle for the ice hook out of old decking boards. It’s so round/cylindrical that it looks as if he’d used a lathe.
Two pieces of garapa laminated together. Started out about a 16 inch because it was easier to run through the table saw. I made an octagon out of it on the table saw, then used the big belt sander… I roughed it up a little bit. Didn’t want it to look too perfect. Then Pam suggested that we take a propane torch to it. Made it look older.
It was a fun project. I still need to seal the wood and the metal. Penetrating sealer works well on metal. It’s sharp… We were thinking you might want to put some corks on the ends… or garapa balls. That was the first thing I thought of. We can certainly do that. — Ottosen Hroth
Carving tiny garapa orbs to install on the spikes strikes me as the perfect way to complete the coat rack so that jackets can be hung without getting spikes. It’ll be a difficult-but-intriguing challenge! There must be some technique for creating a small wooden sphere out of a block of wood. Hhhmmm…
I can’t imagine more perfect Christmas gifts. Their collaboration has rendered layers of Rosslyn history — from the late 1800s and early 1900s when the icehouse was in use, through 2008 when we built the deck that yielded this garapa, to 2022 when the old deck was deconstructed and the icehouse rehabilitation was initiated — into timeless beauty that will adorn the icehouse when it is introduced/revealed next summer. These upcycled Christmas gifts are a product and symbol of renewal. Our gratitude is exceeded only by Hroth’s, Pam’s, and Tony’s collaborative accomplishment.
Upcycled Christmas Gifts (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Upcycled Christmas Gifts (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Upcycled Christmas Gift 2022: antique ice hook with handmade handle (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
The flip-through gallery above offers a few more details, and all three (as the two featured photographs above) are documented inside the icehouse with mid-construction backdrops: old studs with new spray foam insulation and new subfloor ready for interior framing and hardwood flooring. It’s tempting to offer tidier or even fancier backdrops, but authenticity prevails. Future decor created from old materials, documented midstream the icehouse’s transformation. Future, past, and present. Concurrent history and hope, a timeless present, an artistic representation of this liminal moment.
Backstory to Upcycled Christmas Gifts
Susan and my gratitude to Pam, Hroth, and Tony is (and obviously should be) the focus of today’s Rosslyn Redux installment, but I can’t conclude without first considering a slightly more amplified retrospective, the backstory, if you will, to the new coat rack and restored ice hook.
Let’s start by rewinding the timeline to 2008-9. Building the new deck and installing garapa decking was the proverbial caboose in a virtually endless train of construction that started in the summer of 2006. (Source: Garapa Decking 2008-2009)
In the photograph below, taken exactly fourteen years ago today, Warren Cross is putting the finishing touches on our first deck build. Although the perspective may be misleading given the still unbuilt garbage and recycling “shed” which today stands directly behind Warren, this is the northernmost extension of Rosslyn’s deck. The stone step (actually a repurposed hitching post chiseled from Chazy and Trenton limestone (aka “Essex stone”) and the rhododendron shrubs are not yet in place either.
But it you imagine the perspective as if you were standing just north of the morning room, looking back toward the carriage barn and icehouse, you’ll be oriented in no time. Oriented, yes, but nevertheless a bit disoriented too, I imagine, as you look upon a carpenter laboring in the snow to scribe and affix the garapa deck skirting / apron that will complete the installation that had began in the autumn with far more hospitable conditions.
Warren Cross completing garapa decking installation on December 22, 2008 (Photo: Geo Davis)
It’s worth noting that Warren, already in his mature years when he worked on Rosslyn with us, not only threw himself into difficult endeavors like the one above, he contributed decades’ of experience and an unsurpassed work ethic that inspired everyone with whom he worked in 2008 and 2009. But there’s an even more notable memory that describes Warren. He was a gentleman. And he was a gentle man. It was a privilege to witness Warren’s collegiality, and Rosslyn profited enduringly from his expertise. But it was his disposition, his consideration, and his kindness that make me nostalgic when I hear him mentioned or when I catch sight of him in photographs.
In terms of memories conjured by this repurposed garapa decking, I should include Hroth’s “research” this past autumn into how best we might reuse the lumber. There was such anticipation and excitement in the hours he experimented and explored. The image below perfectly illustrates the hidden gold just waiting to reemerge from the deconstructed decking material.
Hroth is continuing to experiment with the garapa decking we salvaged from our summer 2022 deck rebuild. I’m hoping to repurpose this honey toned Brazilian hardwood as paneling in the icehouse bathroom. (Source: Upcycling Decking Debris)
Hroth’s discoveries underpin our plan to panel the interior of the new icehouse bathroom with what for a decade and a half withstood the Adirondack Coast elements season after season, and a rambunctious parade of footfalls, barbecues, dog paws, wetsuits, etc. It’s as if the new coat rack exudes the anticipation and optimism that many of us brought to the journey of upcycling the old decking into the new paneling.
And there is an aside that I’m unable to resist mentioning. Pam’s late husband, Bob Murphy, who worked as our property caretaker and became an admired and dearly respected friend, several times removed and reinstalled Rosslyn’s garapa decking over the years — monitoring, triaging, and compensating for the failing TimberSIL substructure. He knew that we would need to rebuild the entire deck soon, and yet he waged a relentless campaign to extend the useful life of the deck as long as possible. I think he’d be proud of the work accomplished by the team this summer, and he sure would have loved being part of that team! And the icehouse rehab would have thrilled him. Needless to say, these upcycled Christmas gifts from Pam and Hroth and Tony also exude Bob’s smile, familiar chuckle, and that mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
And what about that antique 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. (Source: Icehouse Rehab 01: The Ice Hook)
Isn’t a beauty? Well, rusty and corroded, but a beauty nonetheless, I think.
Antique Ice Hook, artifact unearthed during the icehouse rehabilitation, 2022 (Source: R.P. Murphy)
The prospect of restoring that ice hook crossed my mind at the time. But it struck me as a challenging proposition given the advanced state of decay. What a surreal transformation from rust-crusted phantom to display-ready relic! It too is marinated in memories, some recent and personal, others vague and distant. In the near rearview mirror are the painstaking efforts made by our team to secure the historic stone foundation beneath the icehouse while ensuring the structural integrity demanded by modern building codes. A labor of loves on the parts of so many. And today we can look back from the proud side of accomplishment. As for the more distant rearview, the antique mirror has succumbed to the influence of time, the glass crazed and hazy, the metallic silver chipped and flaking. And yet we can detect traces of laughter and gossip as blocks of ice were cut from the lake, hooked and hauled up to the icehouse, and stacked in tidy tiers for cooling and consumption during temperate times ahead.
A Glimmer of Springtime
In closing this runaway post, I would like to express my warmest gratitude for the upcycled Christmas gifts above, and for a new hummingbird feeder to welcome our exuberant avian friends back in the springtime. Taken together this medley of gifts excite in Susan and me the enthusiasm and optimism for the coming months of rehabilitation and mere months from now the opportunity to celebrate a project too long deferred and so often anticipated. With luck we’ll be rejoicing together in the newly completed icehouse by the time the hummingbirds return to Rosslyn.
Hummingbird Feeder 2022 Christmas Gift from Pam, Tony, and Hroth (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Thank you, Pam, Hroth, and Tony for these perfect presents. And thank you to everyone else I’ve mentioned above for enriching this home and our lives. I look forward to rekindling these memories when I hang my coat or my cap up each time I enter the icehouse. Merry Christmas to all!
Surplus Building Materials: garapa, slate, and marble (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Exciting icehouse rehab progress in recent days, so I’m due for an exciting update or two. But first I need to whittle down the backlog of overdue posts, especially some of those dealing with how we’re transforming some of our surplus building materials into exciting design elements in the reimagined icehouse. I can anticipate your interest flagging. Surplus building materials? Isn’t that about as exciting as yesterday’s leftover?!?! Well, perhaps, but hold that thought for a moment.
It struck me [recently] how similar edible leftovers and building materials can be. Think of surplus lumber and architectural salvage. They get pushed to the back of the proverbial fridge (in our case, usually one of the outbuildings) in the hopes of one day becoming the ingredients for something relevant and exciting and new. (Source: Leftovers as Ingredients)
In addition to repurposing this handsome historic building, we have endeavored to repurpose as many surplus building materials and architectural salvage artifacts as reasonable (i.e. functionally and aesthetically viable) in the design and rehabilitation process. (Source: Leftovers as Ingredients)
You may remember the mixed species flooring experiment (which incidentally is only a day or two away from an exciting update!) or the repurposed columns. Maybe the upcycled coatrack or the deconstructed-deck-upcycled-into-paneling project that’s already a couple of months in process… The truth is there are multiple ways that we’re endeavoring to breathe new life into construction leftovers and surplus building materials, and I’m embarrassingly overdue with updates.
So today I’d like to share with you a previously undisclosed scheme that’s at last approaching a final decision.
Surplus Building Materials: slate and marble (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
In addition to garapa walls — picture amber hued, time patinated, hand milled 4″ boards installed horizontally with a nickel gap — the icehouse bathroom floor and shower will be clad with leftover tiles. That’s right, surplus building materials. Did I lose you again? I hope not, because we’re getting pretty close to a truly handsome combination.
Most likely the floor will green-gray slate that we over-ordered during the Lapine House renovation in 2005-6. We loved it then, and we love it now. And it looks perfect with the upcycled garapa! The corner shower (two tiles walls and two glass walls) will likely have this same slate integrated into the east and south walls, but that detail is still evolving. I promise an update very soon, since we’re running out of time to make a final decision. Necessity is the mother of invention…
And the base of the shower will likely reuse marble tiles from our master bathroom shower. The understated calacatta marble complements the slate, and the contrast between the elegance of marble and the earthiness of slate is appealing, especially locating the marble at the base and the marble in a more prominent position. We’re also considering the possibility of combining another unlikely tile in the shower, smoky green 3″x6″ glass tiles, these surplus building materials from a change-order on a client project Susan designed a few years ago.
Surplus Building Materials: garapa, slate, and marble (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Note: If you noticed a difference between the image at the top of this post and the similar image above, the first image offers a slightly truer color representation. Pam dampened the garapa and slate to approximate what the walls and flooring will look once the material is sealed.
Tito Ingenieri’s Bottle House (Source: The Telegraph )
Having invested so much life into Rosslyn, I often find myself wondering about other epic house projects, house design and rehab adventures that eclipse the normal homeowner/home balance.
Let me introduce Tito Ingenieri. This creative Argentinian built a beer bottle house out of six million empty glass beer bottles. He will gladly teach anyone how to build this kind of ecological house that simultaneously salvages and recycles materials while keeping the streets clean. In his town of Quilmes, Argentina, neighbors gladly give him their empty bottles and admire his artistic creation.
Update
Sadly the original video I featured in this post has vanished (old link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GIx6f1DrQIo) from the ever mysterious internets. So, I’ve gathered a few alternatives to sate your curiosity.
Beer Bottle Buildings : Tito Ingenieri “For this ginormous house, Tito Ingenieri collected bottles from streets and neighbors. Aside from the obvious reason for letting that jaw of yours drop, I’ve left the best feature for last: the bottles whistle whenever the southern winds blow, signaling that the river is rising. Tito Ingenieri thought of everything.” (Source: Trend Hunter)
La Casa de Botellas “La Fortaleza” “Except for the concrete mortar, all of the materials used in his constructions are recycled. This includes not only glass bottles of all sizes, shapes, and colors, but also found objects of metal, ceramics, stone, and more…” (Source: Spaces)
This ‘Fortress of Glass’ is Made of Six Million Glass Bottles “‘The truth is, I owe so much to the public because thanks to them, who drank so much alcohol and threw everything out, I was able to make a house,’ says homeowner, artist Tito Ingenieri, who spent the last 20 years building the walls—some as high as 30 feet—of his recycled home. ‘It’s paradise for me. It’s like living in another dimension.’” (Source: Curbed)
Are Icehouse Rehab Updates Achieving Objectives? (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
On October 18 I laid out some goals for my series of icehouse rehab updates. I’d already been posting for about two and a half months at that point, looking in depth at the summer’s deck rebuild. I intended to continue posting for the duration of our adaptive reuse project, transforming a late 19th century icehouse into a 21st century studio+studio+flex entertaining space. Today, about another two and a half months into the journey, I’d like to evaluate whether or not I’m on target. Are my icehouse rehab updates achieving objectives?
Before revisiting the goals, I should note that I’ve neglected the serializing protocol—titling updates with sequential numbers—that I established at the outset. (I think this is only a temporary commission that I will/may update anon to help organize the posts chronologically.) This started when my updates fell out of sync with the calendar weeks which I’d initially used as an organizing principle. And subsequently I began emphasizing the discreet projects and people instead of the chronological sequence. Concurrently chronicling the boathouse gangway added to the confusion and incentivized focusing more narrowly on each notable project and progress milestone. Sorry if this has been confusing. Consider it an act of omission rather than an act of commission.
So, let’s start with my original list of goals.
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.
That first bullet point was as much a personal planning memo as anything. Our use of Trello within the team isn’t really particularly relevant to readers, so I’m not sure why I included that. But I did, and we depend heavily on this application for keeping everything in sync; coordinating materials, subcontractors, and deadlines; tracking progress; etc. I’ve been using Trello for years, and it’s difficult to imagine life without it.
Are Icehouse Rehab Updates Achieving Objectives? (Photo: Geo Davis)
As of now I’m pretty pleased with the accomplishment on rosslynredux.com which I’ve succeeded in updating daily (162 days today!) with episodic, voyeuristic glimpses into the day-to-day. Although this chronicle, isn’t an unfiltered tell-all (in part because it would take too much time to record and relate in real time), it’s an attempt to live this project inside out. In other words, it’s an open door and an invitation. So far, so good. And challenge of documenting the progress on several concurrent projects happening at Rosslyn has re-immersed me in the quest—a protracted contemplation on reawakening and revival (domestic/residential and individual/personal) while exploring the role that home plays in this renewal—that I’d allowed the languish in recent years. And so it is that my daily updates are interspersed with reflections on the broader arc of our relationship with Rosslyn, wayward wonderings about the poetics of place, peripheral inquiries into homeness and nesting (and their alternatives), and even a fair share of introspection around how we perceive and remember and recount since I’m made daily aware how differing our experiences of the selfsame events and happening and conversations can be.
And then there is @rosslynredux in Instagram, a whimsical world of eye candy and creative chronicles and inquiring innovators and curious companions all around the world. Although there is much overlap with the website, I often discover a refreshing creative energy on the platform. Many inspiring connections have come out of this vast digital agora, and the encouragement and feedback have been deeply stimulating.
My second bullet above, “transparently map our rehabilitation process, accounting for the ups and the downs without ‘airbrushing’ the journey” has been mostly successful. Over the last five plus months I’ve welcomed a more collaborative creative energy to the project, encouraging others participating directly or indirectly to share their perspective(s). This has largely come with photographs and videos, sometimes words via phone calls, text messages, and emails. I am finding this level of narrative collaboration invigorating, and I’m hoping to encourage more in the weeks ahead. Diversifying the creative ingredients will likely improve transparency. That said, there are inevitable ups and downs on these sorts of projects, these sorts of timelines, and I’ve exercised restraint on several occasions when less filter might have made compelling storytelling but might also have compromised the collegial energy underpinning the many successes to date.
As such the metaphorical “fly on the wall” is more aspirational goal than reality, and the voyeuristic glimpses captured in these blog posts do not pretend to be much more than editorialized field notes. Shoot for objectivity; settle for subjectivity. (Source: Voyeuristic Glimpses & Mosaic Mirages)
In short, I’ve remained an active mediator, determining how much/little of the ups and downs benefit from 100% transparency. That said, this has been the “rehab inside out” that I envisioned at the outset, and it has added a fascinating component to the scope of our current projects.
Are Icehouse Rehab Updates Achieving Objectives? (Photo: Geo Davis)
Proceeding to the third bullet, I’m pleased with the fact that we’re documenting this final historic rehabilitation project at Rosslyn far better than any of the other three buildings. Fortunately I have years of photographs, notes, field notes, audio recordings, etc. that I’m now drawing upon to help fill in some of the “white spaces” in this nearly seventeen year adventure. There’s far too much discourse and brainstorming and troubleshooting to record it all, but I’m collecting plenty of material that I’ll post if/when time allows. I’m eager to show others what this process looks like, what a 16+ year rolling renovation project feels like, and I’m hoping that sharing this experience will also help amplify the idea of home renovation and construction and landscape design and gardening and nesting as creative arts, learning opportunities, and immensely rewarding adventures.
I’ve gotten ahead of myself, rolling right into my fourth bullet. I’ve waxed on elsewhere about the importance of embracing creative risk (especially Carpe Midlife), so I’ll abbreviate for now as the verdict—whether or not I’ve yet inspired anyone—is still out. But I’m endeavoring to immerse readers in the totality of a project like this, capturing some of the million and one small decisions that ultimately define the way everything gradually coalesces into a finished work. I’m genuinely hoping that the cost of creativity will seem paltry in comparison to the mountain of reward. If not, I’ll try harder! And the emphasis on rehabilitation, and repurposing, and upcycling, and adaptive reuse,… these are not intended to be preachy moralizing. Sure, they’re vital in this day and age, but they’re also immensely satisfying. Don’t trust me. Try it out!
My last bullet point is a goal that I’ve already drifted into. Throwing myself into the current rehab and maintenance projects, even as an ideas and oversight participant rather than a hands-on participant has reinvigorated my enthusiasm for Rosslyn Redux manyfold. I’m swimming in documents and artifacts and photographs and notes—sooo many notes—from the last sixteen years of Rosslyn’s rehab ad infinitum (and the life / lifestyle we’ve enjoyed as a result of Rosslyn’s benevolence). I’m attempting to curate the ones worth curating and attempting to dispose of the rest, distilling from a decade and a half journey the parts worth assembling into an exhibit of sorts. It’s a work in progress, and it’s still a daunting distance from any sort of unveiling. But I’m alive with purpose and enthusiasm. And the vision is clearer each day. So, I’m guardedly optimistic that a few more months on this same trajectory and I’ll be ready to articulate clearly and definitely what I’m creating. And why. If only I can maintain the level of acute attention, if I can sustain this peculiar appetite for sifting and collaging and jettisoning the sentimental that too often pervades the true and beautiful bits, then I will have accomplished my biggest goal of all. Let the journey continue to unfold…
You may recall that we’ve been upcycling garapa decking from Rosslyn’s 2008-9 deck that we salvaged and laid aside this past summer. Spanning half a year so far — from deconstructing and culling reusable material midsummer to multiple experiments determining optimal dimensions for adaptive reuse as bathroom paneling — we’re now scaling up production and the results are impressive.
Tony Upcycling Garapa Decking (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Adaptive reuse of the old decking was an abstract ideal when I announced it at the outset. I’m not 100% certain whether the rest of the team was intrigued and looked forward to the challenge, or thought it was yet another frustrating folly. But Hroth was an especially good sport, planing board after board and trimming the edges to determine what would work best.
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!
Hroth is continuing to experiment with the garapa decking we salvaged from our summer 2022 deck rebuild. I’m hoping to repurpose this honey toned Brazilian hardwood as paneling in the icehouse bathroom. (Source: Upcycling Decking Debris)
Squeezed into the interstices of all of the other more pressing priorities in the daily scope of work, little by little Hroth determined that 3-7/8” x 5/8” were reasonable dimensions. We both really liked the look. In fact, Hroth, Tony, and Pam, like the look so much that they decided to upcycle some reclaimed garapa (plus a few artifacts from the icehouse excavation) into dashing decor!
Garapa upcycled from Rosslyn’s 2008-9 deck build and miscellaneous ice hauling artifacts reconciled and reborn as a new coat rack that will greet icehouse visitors upon entering the miniature foyer, and a restored antique ice hook that will be displayed prominently in the main room. Bravo, team. (Source: Upcycled Christmas Gifts)
And now Tony is beavering away industriously transforming the salvaged lumber. The photographs in this post offer a nice glimpse into Tony’s work upcycling garapa decking into pristine planks for paneling.
Tony Upcycling Garapa Decking (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
In the photograph below, you see gradients of old gray surface wood that was exposed to the weather over a decade and a half. You can also see wood that is further along in the planing process, revealing beautiful garapa coloring and grain.
Upcycling Garapa Decking (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
It’s a slow and painstaking process that demands plenty of patience and focus, but the results are worth it. Transforming debris into beautiful finish paneling will prove rewarding, for sure. And in the photograph below, I suspect the Tony is even beginning to appreciate what magnificence he is bringing into existence.
Tony Upcycling Garapa Decking (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Here’s a quick remix to enliven this static commentary…
https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cm_ttD5haqx/
And here’s another, reflecting back to Hroth’s earlier expiratory “research”.
XXX
https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cj4hbRIAFlh/
And, just for the fun of it, here is the new deck build once it was complete.
Finding freudenfreude while upcycling lumber (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Last week Tony, Hroth, and Pam all shared overlapping updates on garapa, elm, and ash upcycling progress. Virtually concurrent texts and photos sent by all three. Two of them spoke with me by telephone. All of them sounded 100% in sync. No griping. No grumbling. No blaming. And no complaints, frustrations, or regrets. They were uniformly upbeat and optimistic. They were proud of their own accomplishments, and they were proud of one another. I suspect that they’re finding freudenfreude.
Freud and who?!?!
From Schadenfreude to Freudenfreude
You’re probably already familiar with the idea of schadenfreude, but maybe freudenfreude is new to you. Until recently it was new to me.
Lately the idea has experienced an uptick in usage, likely driven by Brené Brown’s Atlas of the Heart. A book review by Jon M. Sweeney orients us.
Schadenfreude “simply means pleasure or joy derived from someone else’s suffering or misfortune.” And Freudenfreude is its opposite; “it’s the enjoyment of another’s success. It’s also a subset of empathy.” — Jon M. Sweeney (Source: Atlas of the Heart by Brené Brown | Review | Spirituality & Practice)
Too often envy (or some similarly all-too-human but lamentable feeling) rumbles to life deep within our psyche when we witness a colleague or friend succeeding, especially if we’re not feeling completely satisfied with our own performance, life, etc. But what if we could alchemize envy into empathy? What if we could train ourselves to feel happiness, satisfaction, and even pride when someone else thrives? We can.
Finding pleasure in another person’s good fortune is what social scientists call “freudenfreude,” a term (inspired by the German word for “joy”) that describes the bliss we feel when someone else succeeds, even if it doesn’t directly involve us. Freudenfreude is like social glue, said Catherine Chambliss, a professor of psychology at Ursinus College. It makes relationships “more intimate and enjoyable.”
Erika Weisz, an empathy researcher and postdoctoral fellow in psychology at Harvard University, said the feeling closely resembles positive empathy — the ability to experience someone else’s positive emotions. A small 2021 study examined positive empathy’s role in daily life and found that it propelled kind acts, like helping others. Sharing in someone else’s joy can also foster resilience, improve life satisfaction and help people cooperate during a conflict. (Source: Juli Fraga, What is Freudenfreude? And How to Cultivate It. – The New York Times)
I’m especially drawn to the possibility of freudenfreude as “social glue” that cultivates collegiality through further kindness, resilience, and cooperation. Actually, collegiality is too limiting, since family and friendship certainly prosper in the presence of this joy-of-joy phenomenon.
Cultivating a sense of freudenfreude ― or letting yourself feel vicarious joy for others ― could benefit your friendships greatly… (Source: Brittany Wong, Huffpost)
But what about the inevitable flush of envy or resentment?
Try to fight back a gnawing, unexpected feeling of jealousy.
[…]
Comparison is a big part of how our brain judges reality, but we can learn to use this process more productively, especially within our friendships.
“Instead of feeling crushed when we discover others have arrived at some desirable destination first, we can be grateful they helped to define the path for us,” Catherine Chambliss said. (Source: Brittany Wong, Huffpost)
Mistakes as stepping stones! (Photo: Geo Davis)
Some good news: what goes around comes around. Finding freudenfreude isn’t only a matter of investing yourself in the happiness and success of your peers, it’s also an opportunity to thrive yourself.
Freudenfreude is a two-way street! So be sure to find ways to include your friends in your successes and wins, too.
“When you have a big success, it’s important to embrace your own friends, to honour their value in your life; to recognise their insights and their support,” Shaw [Glenda D. Shaw, author of Better You, Better Friends] says. “By acknowledging your friends, you include them in your success, and that’s what this is all about.” (Source: Brittany Wong, Huffpost)
Cultivating freudenfreude amongst friends and colleagues is not only contributing to the “social glue” of the group, it’s actually an act of community building and collective accomplishment. None of us grow and prosper and succeed in a vacuum. We are intrinsically interdependent. And despite the occasionally onerous responsibilities that come with embracing this reality, the rewards are ample, not just for one, but for all.
“When we feel happy for others, their joy becomes our joy,” said psychologist Marisa Franco, author of “Platonic: How the Science of Attachment Can Help You Make — and Keep — Friends.” To that end, freudenfreude encourages us to look at success as a community achievement.
“No one gets to the top alone, and when we elevate others, we’re often carried up with them,” Dr. Anhalt said. (Source: The New York Times)
Isn’t this just good teamwork and empathy? I suppose if you’re uncomfortable embracing and/or adopting this clunky German-ish (more on that in a moment), then you can cobble together your own equivalent. The important takeaway, as far as I’m concerned, is that noticing and genuinely appreciating and acknowledging and even celebrating your friends’ and teammates’ victories will benefit the entire cohort and initiative.
Experiencing more freudenfreude doesn’t mean you’ll never root against a villain again, but being able to reach for happiness is inherently beneficial. “As delicious as it is to delight in our enemy’s defeats, celebrating our friends’ success — big and small — helps us all triumph in the end,” Dr. Chambliss said. (Source: The New York Times)
Although it’s easy, convenient, and sometimes *really* tempting to cast aspersion and blame less-than-perfect progress on others, there’s no benefit. But there is abundant detriment. If, however, the group can shift their impetus to finding freudenfreude—even when there are setbacks and/or problems emerge—then the path to successive success isn’t far off.
Tony’s Timesheet: sizing, planing, sizing, planing… (Photo of invoice from Tony Foster)
Finding Freudenfreude & Fellowship
Let’s get back to Tony, Hroth, and Pam.
Long story short, Tony’s day-after-day re-milling (sizing and planing) was paying off. He’s been upcycling old, deconstructed garapa decking for adaptive reuse in the icehouse as wall paneling. And he’s been planing rough cut elm and ash lumber that was harvested, milled, and and dried on site over the years, ensuring a uniform thickness so that we can upcycle this homegrown timber (a byproduct of rehabilitating Rosslyn’s fields and forest) into flooring for the icehouse.
Finding freudenfreude while upcycling lumber (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Early on Hroth had expressed some misgivings about the quality of the results, the speed of progress, etc. I’m sure Tony probably could have expressed his own aggravations, but he didn’t, nor did I encourage him to. Susan reminds me that I’m an exacting taskmaster, and I have no doubt that my own persnickety perfectionism was amping up expectations and stress throughout the team unnecessarily. Hroth had been endeavoring to mentor Tony, and Tony was giving it his all. The garapa is hard as blazes, and after years of use on the deck, the material has inherited some especially challenging characteristics that gradually had to be figured into the production process by trial and error. And much of the ash and elm had checked, twisted, and cupped while in storage. Reading each board and troubleshooting the best process to transform it into beautiful finish lumber was a challenging proposition to say the least. Further difficulties arose from two different types of planers, and a job site table saw less-than-ideally suited to the task. Add to the mix Pam overseeing Tony and Hroth, endeavoring to ensure tip-top quality control, while Hroth concurrently was juggling myriad other responsibilities in the icehouse. And, if that’s not enough ingredients to cook up a stressful stew, add yours truly to the mix, located just over two thousand miles away in Santa Fe. Absent geographically, but participating virtually via phone, text, email, Trello, etc., my inputs were likely considerably more than all three of them would likely have preferred. So, needless to say, there were inevitably some growing pains.
Finding freudenfreude while upcycling lumber (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Strains and setbacks were initially overshadowing progress. It was starting to feel like the proverbial pressure cooker.
But then things started to coalesce. Tony found his groove. Hroth praised Tony. Pam praised Hroth and Tony. And all three let me know how pleased they were with the evolving results and dynamics. Wait… what just happened?!?!
It’s anybody’s guess, but I’d like to think that the team is finding freudenfreude. It’s not the first time. I’ve witnessed it repeatedly. Last summer during the deck rebuild, there were multiple stretches where the team coalesced so harmoniously and so productively that the progress and breathtaking results almost seemed an inevitable byproduct of the chemistry. This fall and winter have demonstrated several similar stretches, but one that stands out was the icehouse foundation collaboration when two teams that had been working on separate, unrelated projects came together and performed skillfully.
So, what’s the takeaway? Shun schadenfreude, and find freudenfreude!
Finding freudenfreude while upcycling lumber (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Afterward
Until now I hope that I’ve elevated the prospect of finding freudenfreude—of authentically cultivating and fertilizing freudenfreude—in order to incubate collegiality while growing the collaborative capacity of the cohort. But, as a linguist, I’m unable to bookend this reflection without acknowledging that the word in question, freudenfreude, is manufactured and imperfect. And while I don’t think this diminishes the concept, it’s worth taking a quick dive into a recent critic’s perspective.
There’s only one problem…: “freudenfreude” may be known in sociological jargon (and similar in meaning to the Sanskrit-derived mudita), but it’s not a German word. On both a linguistic level and, one might argue, a cultural one, freudenfreude is Scheiße. — Rebecca Schuman (Source: Source: Slate)
If Ms. Schuman’s not only stolen your bliss but bewildered you with that last phrase, Scheiße is an alternative form of scheisse (which is German for “shit”). Feeling a bit bruised? Perhaps Lady Gaga’s “Scheiße” can fix that for you…
And if that’s not disorienting enough, Ms. Schuman follow’s that blow with another.
None of this… stops “freudenfreude” from sounding downright ridiculous to Germans — or, even better, salacious. One German professor… pointed out that Freudenfreude sounds a lot like an existing compound noun: Freudenhaus. Literally “house of pleasure,” this is actually a word for brothel. — Rebecca Schuman (Source: Source: Slate)
So, there you have it. If you’re in Ms. Schuman’s camp, you may well prefer another way of articulating this positive, beneficial, proactive force for good. No worries. But if you’re less scatologically inclined and comfortable considering a “house of pleasure” to be an unnecessary exit ramp for the present contemplation, then I encourage you to go about finding freudenfreude. Hope it turns out well for you.
Finding freudenfreude while upcycling lumber (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
