What's modern now? Does the emphasis on the purity of site, program, and client impede the progress of new architecture? - from the editor - Editorial

Residential Architect, April, 2003 by S. Claire Conroy

I've been having this conversation with a number of architects lately: What should we call modern--lowercase "m"--residential architecture now? I mean the work that doesn't look back to identifiable styles of the past. The word modern conjures the work of the Bauhaus boys and disciples. Not everyone understands the subtle copy-editing distinction of the upper- and lowercase meanings. So, what's left? Contemporary? Uppercase Contemporary makes me think of the stuff spawned by Sea Ranch--lots of vertical wood siding, wacky fenestration, and soaring ceilings. Lowercase contemporary makes me think of the citified Sea Ranch houses done in white stucco.

It's confusing. It bewilders me, and it befuddles the architects I've talked to. But if we don't know what to call the work you're doing now, how can home buyers possibly wrap their minds around it? They don't understand what they're getting with today's new architectural styles. That bafflement may be one of the biggest barriers to innovative design in merchant housing and even mainstream custom houses. What advantages do these houses offer to outweigh the risk of resale problems? Why would buyers want to gamble one of the biggest purchases of their lives on something unknown and untested?

Modern houses--capital "M"--sold because their builders and architects developed a "brand." modern is a great trade name, and the benefits the style conveyed were clear: indoor-outdoor living, much more daylight and openness inside the house, advanced heating and cooling systems, labor-saving appliances. Many of the houses were billed as "hygienic," with their new-fangled laminate counters and linoleum floors--no more unsanitary grout to clean! These houses were obviously different from anything else in the marketplace at the time. Magazines embraced and promoted Modernism. Builders advertised and explained the lifestyle advantages of Modern houses. Collectively, they taught people how to understand and appreciate this new kind of housing.

So what about now? We're waiting for another fresh style to capture the imagination of the public at large. Who knows, it may already be out there and it may be quite beautiful. But it won't get anywhere without making a case for its superiority over the tried-and-true. It must also have a great name and lend itself to packaging and popularizing. To accomplish this, architects will need to work together to develop a concordant set of design principles bolstered by some compelling ideas about how this new house can improve the way Americans dwell. We know this can work--look at the success of the Congress for the New Urbanism and the resulting popularity of Traditional Neighborhood Developments. I don't think the only thing they had going for them was nostalgia. The architects, planners, and other thinkers involved did a marvelous job of unifying and marketing their ideas.

Could it be that the emphasis architecture schools place on blazing your own trail has undermined the collaboration necessary to invent truly potent new forms of residential architecture? Bauhaus fostered a pretty coherent blueprint for a new kind of house, and its adherents built on each other's ideas--without shame. A united front is a formidable force.

Questions or comments? Call me: 202.736.3312; write me: S. Claire Conroy, residential architect, One Thomas Circle, N.W., Suite 600, Washington, D.C. 20005; or e-mail me: cconroy@hanley-wood.com.