Modern traditions: sometimes the most livable houses are those that blend contemporary influences with time-honored forms

Residential Architect, Sept-Oct, 2005

field's edge

When it comes to architectural richness, not many places can top the Berkshire Mountain region in western Massachusetts. The area boasts great depth in its collection of 18th- and 19th-century farmhouses and agricultural buildings, in addition to some well-preserved Shaker-built structures. Architect Andy Burr, FAIA, drew from all three traditions when designing this modern-day farmhouse in Alford, Mass. "We don't want to be slavishly traditional, but a lot of clients come to us and want something that fits in with the vernacular of the area," he says. "We try to get a little inventive while still using that local language."

The house clearly belongs to its site and region. White-painted cedar clapboards cover its gabled forms, which are topped by classic standing-seam metal roofs. Burr and his staff calculated the roof overhangs for solar gain during winter and shading during summer, another time-honored strategy. "The old-timers were very sensitive to sunlight and wind orientation," he says.

A separate garage with an upstairs guest suite recalls typical rural outbuildings. History even played into the house's placement at the outer rim of its 15-acre site, where the open meadow meets a dense forest. "We felt strongly that the house shouldn't be out in the field," Burr explains. "It ruins the view for everyone else, and it's not traditionally where the house would be put. If it were an older house, it would be at the edge condition where it's protected by the trees behind it."

The fenestration on old local barns served as a model for the garage--guesthouse's six-paned windows and barn-door--like shutters. But subtle hints of modernity eased their way into the design too. Rather than facing in one direction, the gables of the main house meet to form a 90-degree angle dictated by the T-shaped floor plan. "It's not a traditional way to put buildings together," says Burr. "Typically, the gables wouldn't crash into each other like that." Most of the home's windows are larger than those in an older house. One 42-by-22-foot space with a vaulted ceiling incorporates the entire kitchen, living room, and dining room--a far cry from the formal, chopped-up rooms and lower ceilings of the past. A freestanding refrigerator and walk-in pantry give the kitchen the currently popular unfitted look, a style that had its first heyday before the advent of built-ins.

A parallel for the house's blend of modern and traditional design ideas can be found nearby at the restored Hancock Shaker Village. The spare, unassuming buildings there acted as a touchstone of sorts for Burr, who used granite columns on the home's front porch in a tribute to similar columns he'd seen at the village. "We do look at the Shakers a lot" he says. "They distilled the vernacular of the area." Two centuries later, he and his firm strive to do the same.

project: Private residence, Alford, Mass.

architect: Burr and McCallum Architects, Williamstown, Mass.

general contractor: Albert J. Cummings IV, Williamstown

project size: 2,850 square feet

site size: Withheld

construction cost: Withheld

photographer: Ken Gutmaker

found in translation

When an interpreter translates a sentence, he doesn't reiterate it word for word. Instead, he communicates the speaker's fundamental meaning, adjusting structures and expressions from one tongue to another. Stephen Muse, FAIA, performed a similar adaptation for this Washington, D.C., house, which conveys the spirit of Japanese architecture without actually reproducing elements from it. "We didn't want to do a bridge crossing over a koi pond," says Muse. "We were looking more for the essence of Japanese architecture."

The impetus for this nonliteral interpretation came from the owners, who had spent many years living in Japan. They shared their collection of Japanese architecture books with Muse and project architect Kuk-Ja Kim, AIA, pointing out photos that appealed to them. "We had to figure out what it was about these Japanese rooms they liked," says Muse. "It turned out to be the strong feeling of geometry, the connection from room to room, and also the connection from interior to exterior." So he and Kim created a simple floor plan whose room sizes and openings line up more precisely than in a typical American house. Their emphasis on geometry also extended to the interior detailing, rendered in flat surfaces of maple and painted wood to reference the exposed framework and paneling of the Japanese tradition.

The woodwork's clean lines signify a modern aesthetic that, according to Muse, came about by happenstance. "Solving the problems of the site and expressing what the owners want in a house led us into something very light and more contemporary in feel," he says.

The house sits atop a steep, wooded hill--too steep in front for anyone to climb regularly. So the main entrance lies around back, where the driveway leads from a public alley up to a stand-alone garage. The architects created an entry sequence that starts in the garage, leads out to a window-lined gallery flanked by landscaped terraces, and ends in the skylit stair hall of the main house. Along with an ample number of windows, French doors, and outdoor rooms, the entry procession strengthens the home's tie to the landscape--a goal consistent with modern as well as Japanese architecture.