Adventures in Chakra-tecture!

By Beth Herman

When a mold-ridden, baby blue, vinyl-sided 1970s “fake” farmhouse in Frederick County, Va., needed a total architectural alignment (translation: to raze or not to raze), Reader & Swartz Architects recruited the growing young family who lived there in a proactive design effort largely about lifestyle.

With yoga practice paramount among homeowners Stephen and Julie Pettler’s daily requisites, the original 2,858 s.f. home was reimagined “poetically,” according to Principal Chuck Swartz, to reach up and out, emulating a yoga pose. Appreciating the sun’s path in the course of the day with considerable length and glass added to the southern face, the ultimate 5,125 s.f. design included a soothing, cork-floored yoga room and library, and a dedicated school room for home schooled Zoe, now 14, Olivia, 11 and Sophia, 8.

Kapalabhati (breathing technique for cleansing breaths)

“When we started the project, there was really nothing in the house worth keeping because it was neither historic nor special,” Swartz said, recalling a kind of initial 911 call from the homeowners. “One of the things that had happened along the way was that with each improvement to the house (purchased in 2002), things got worse,” he continued, explaining that contractors had clogged or sealed crawl spaces and attic vents through the years. Project manager Kevin Walker called its walls “…a haven for mold.” Suffering serious respiratory ailments as a result and requiring mold abatement, the family had considered demolishing the property except for a conservation conscience that impelled it to investigate other options.

“In another situation, we might have bulldozed,” Swartz conceded, “but our client charged us with doing as good as we could environmentally, so that meant fixing the mold situation and not using toxic materials that might off-gas. Anything that was going into this house had to be thoughtful,” he said. Construction waste was sorted and recycled when possible. Additionally, Swartz recalled that the structure was situated perfectly–on a private road with mature trees and lots of land and vistas, and siting that utilized passive solar gain – making the decision to maintain the footprint of the house that much easier.

Surya Namaskara (sun salutation)

Building a 2,267 s.f. two-story addition to the East containing the yoga room, a library and master suite above it, and a one-story living room to the Southwest, the house went from being a “boxy piece of something to something that stretched up and out to the sun,” said Swartz. Sporting a gable roof made of trusses, the architects were able to remove them and create a simple shed roofline. “By putting a new hat on it and adding the two wings, we really changed the house’s sense of self,” he affirmed.

Retaining the existing box as the core of the new house, this became the kitchen with three children’s bedrooms, a laundry room and bathroom above it. While working within the structure’s traditional though limiting eight-foot ceilings, the architects decided to open up the second floor above the kitchen, creating a space that at its apogee is 28 feet high, and which fosters easy conversation between downstairs and upstairs occupants (Swartz quipped about waking up the kids from the kitchen). A light monitor – or vertical window with a tiny roof – at the top channels sunlight everywhere, and cedar trees a friend of the Pettler’s was cutting down anyway were reincarnated as columns that support steel used in some of the kitchen construction.

In the kitchen, which Swartz called the home’s spiritual center because its design connects everyone, cabinets of maple, crushed sunflower seeds, bamboo and sorghum can be seen, with towering wood structures which hold the oven and refrigerator shooting up through the open space with a skyscraper-like or sun worshipping quality. Topped with wells (not planters that can leak), house plants nest in self-watering pots so as not be over-watered. On the second floor, little doors open up to the wells for plant maintenance. The living room addition, in part defined by a soapstone structure that houses a woodstove and bookshelves, has a surprise tree leaning out from a corner of the structure. Deep shelves are lined with metal to hold firewood, and in a nod to nature, a boulder–unearthed during the construction process–now doubles as sculpture and seating. The space reaches up and out, toward the sun, with a ceiling trajectory of about eight feet to more than 15 feet.

Namaste (the soul in me acknowledges the soul in you)

“We wanted to make a modern house that was really wonderful, but not make it all about the architect,” Swartz explained, also speaking to the façade. To that end, a decision to personalize the home’s exterior was manifested in the expanded use of “tattoos,” wherein art panels were painted by family members, relatives, friends and even an artist in Japan where Julie Pettler had worked. “They had friends over, and had champagne and chocolate, telling people they couldn’t leave until they painted a panel,” Swartz recalled, noting a clear poly coating was applied in the end. “Now it’s like a time capsule on the outside of the building,” he said.

Skinned in cedar siding, the exterior material finds its way to the interior, framing the staircase and seen again outside the kitchen where the living room is. Unpainted plaster walls on the first floor and drywall for bedroom walls maintain the space’s clean simplicity, with downstairs flooring of reclaimed wormy chestnut. The stairs themselves, made of hickory, are each two risers high, essentially creating bleacher seating for the girls and/or platforms for pots and plants. Rafts between the bleachers facilitate climbing, with a flying staircase effect achieved beyond the landing.

With a high efficiency HVAC that includes ground-loop geothermal, radiant floor tubing and an on demand tank-less water heater, as well as other sustainable elements such as low or no-VOC stains and sealants, and high efficiency fixtures and fittings, the house meets the personal criteria of an environmentally- and health-conscious young family.

“It was important to me to see how a family could be that involved in the architecture,” Walker said, noting the process was more about the people living there than the architects. “They are so much more in tune with the results because of that. It was good to see them come back to their home, but with a whole different life.”

"After" photography by Judy Davis/HDPhoto

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The House that Straddled Time

By Beth Herman

It's either in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley or in your wildest dreams, depending on how much Ketel One you've had to drink the night before, but for a noted NYC expat/physician, this place is really home.

For Winchester, Va.-based Chuck Swartz and Beth Reader of Reader & Swartz Architects, creating a place to retire for a client whose lifetime interests included opera and what some might consider colliding collections of pop art, rare books, skeletal remains, insects, an imposing statue of bad-boy Greek character Actaeon and antique scientific oddities presented a design challenge largely unparalleled in their 20 years in practice together, but one the firm truly embraced. Ultimately receiving an AIA D.C. merit award in the historic resources category, the architects’ efforts to integrate 300 years of art, objects, books and furniture, including a 1959 Eames chair and Mies van der Rohe daybed, into slightly more than 3,000 s.f. of a late 19^th century “street side farm house,” known as vernacular Victorian, resulted in a home that’s rich, tactile appeal rivaled its intellectual brio.

“When you see these things,” Swartz said of his client’s eclectic though erudite taste, “it’s not an ego collection for him. He actually reads these amazing books and knows all about them. And all of the objects – he knows who did them, who they were related to. He lives in the history of Western culture.”

Upstairs, Downstairs

Originally four apartments, Reader & Swartz Architects, who also credit Lodge Construction, Inc.’s craftspeople and project manager Earl Burroughs, began by converting the structure into two spaces: lower and loft. The smaller, bottom living space of 939 s.f. went to the homeowner’s caretaker who maintains the precisely landscaped, vibrant grounds and gardens that further define the space. Primarily a renovation, the only addition to the premises was the inclusion of another library, in fact a third library, commonly referred to as the “secret” library due to its windowless location, which houses some of the homeowner’s estimated 4,000-book collection under unusually creative circumstances.

“In this case, the library is the room and the room is the library,” Swartz explained, noting the shelves go from floor-to-ceiling on all four chocolate brown walls in the 13x13x13-ft space. When the door - which is backed by more shelving - is closed, it disappears, and a highly mobile library ladder runs the entire perimeter of all four walls to access any and all books. A 1920s art deco Murano glass light fixture hangs from a coffered ceiling, and isn’t electrified, holding candles instead. The room is actually lit by a minimalist fixture above this one, which shines down on the glass. “We’re taking an old light fixture and thinking of it as an object rather than a source of light," Swartz said, which is exemplary of other repurposed entities throughout the home. “Everything is looked at for its properties and thought about a lot,” Swartz noted. “So if something is beautiful and (the homeowner) loved it, we figured out how to have it make sense in the building.”

In the garden library, which overlooks a rather formal Karesansui rock garden, black Corian bookshelves are traversed by tapered, vertical, floor-to-ceiling pieces of wood, almost like airplane wings, which add precision and scale to that room’s collection of books. The remaining library, called the main salon, is a large, pale green room with floor-to-ceiling glass, a barrel-vaulted ceiling and mirrors at each end. On one wall is a changeable wooden apparatus, thought of as kinetic or interactive sculpture. “The verticals are set, but all the horizontal pieces can be unscrewed very quickly, almost in IKEA fashion,” Swartz explained, adding the whole composition can be moved around to accommodate the client’s glassware, antique medical objects, sea shells and more. “He calls it his Wundercamera,” Swartz quipped.

The Butler with the Candlestick in the Kitchen

In tandem with the home’s robust personality and old/new functionality, the kitchen needed to have its own voice. The last thing the team desired was to default to a “subdivision-type” kitchen with little dignity. “We wanted the space to be the way a really old kitchen would be, where it’s a room with things that are worthy,” Swartz explained. In this respect, plastic laminate “caskets” were designed to hold base cabinets and wall cabinets so that everything looks like built-in furniture. While the cabinets themselves are modern, they’re made of red oak providing a grain that, at closer look, permeates their black veneer. Visible joists were covered with black milk paint, with a floor on top of them so that the wood is visible. White subway tile on the walls flanks concrete countertops, and glass blocks from an old building in Tulsa, Oklahoma, separate the kitchen from a bathroom but allow light to shine through (as well as down the staircase when the bathroom is in use). A high-design Italian light fixture from the 1950s punctuates the space, with nearly all of the home’s light fixtures - such as the main salon’s Vassilakis Takis colored lights on stalks display - offering some kind of pedigree, according to Swartz. “The kitchen actually has an old feel without any particular reference to time,” he affirmed.

Lie Back and Think of England

Recalling the homeowner’s English roots and dry sense of humor, Swartz said a problem arose when the mechanical system had to be placed outside, up high, in plain sight of the bedroom. A resulting abstract steel pyramid design, in a kind of homage to artist Sol LeWitt whose actual work can be found in other places inside and outside the building, was cut by computer to form what is affectionately called “mechanical lingerie” or the “secular steeple.” In short, it camouflages the mechanical hardware and reflects the rooftops of Great Britain. And where the loft itself utilizes floor-to-ceiling glass to appreciate the view of the gardens below, the façade of the first floor caretaker’s unit - in a nod to history and for privacy - is clad in something resembling Victorian-era pressed metal, similar to what’s seen on ceilings in old stores or in restaurants.

The overall structure, which Swartz said is not a restoration but in sustainable terms a reuse of an old building, is compared, by the architect, to a chef who might find some less contemporary thought-of foods, such as venison or cornbread, and use them in a whole new way. “It doesn’t have a static view of either architecture or history,” Swartz said about the home. “It’s a serious building, done with an open-minded sense of humor. It’s not trying to be old or modern or opulent or minimalist or anything. It’s more of a celebration of life.”

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