Did you overplant your veggie garden in an overzealous micro-local food movement frenzy this year? Do you want to plant a vegetable garden but wonder what you’ll do with 25 cucumbers all at once? These are not problems. Check out Plant a Row for the Hungry at gardenwriters.org to find out where you can donate your excess harvest.

As many of you know, The Farnsworth House has suffered great damage from the latest round of flooding in September 2008. The house was built in a floodplain, but Mies thought the water would only reach the floor in the most severe of circumstances. Apparently, he was wrong. The Farnsworth House site asks for flood mitigation ideas, but they also include a “heard it” list, which had me in stitches. I just had to share it with you:

Before you get started though…

We have, over the course of our five years managing this property, continually investigated solutions to the threat posed by the river.  To that end, we begin this discussion with a list of previously proposed ideas:

1. Placement of a pontoons under the building
2. Longer column extensions that slide out of their footings
3. Szikorsky Helicopter to lift the 300 ton house
4. Hydraulic jacks to raise it in place
5. Building up the site flood plain by 12 ft.
6. Move the house to high ground
7. Retractable flood walls surrounding the house.
8. Waterproofing everything inside the house (vinyl upholstery, plastic laminate wood?)
9. Inflatable raft under the house
10. Internal sandbags around furniture and core
11. Dikes and dams
12. Moats
13. Fixed Moment Frame below the soil
14. Sandbags
15. Temporary flood walls
16. Reverse aquarium designed to rise out of the ground
17. Giant Zip lock bag
18. Steel waterproof shutters

When considering these ideas we evaluate them against the following criteria:
• Cost
• Sensitivity to Preservation Initiatives
• Practicality

These are the same criteria the experts will use in considering your ideas.

The problem for me in finding a solution is that the house is so connected to the site. Moving it changes everything; the planned vistas, the way it relates to the topography, the idea of the floating house in the floodplain. Then again, I’m trained as a landscape architect so I am very biased towards the relationship of built work to site. If you have any bright ideas that do not involve a Sikorsky helicopter or the world’s largest Zip-Lock bag (hey Zip-Lock, have I got a marketing idea for you…), click here to submit it. For some reason, “Rollin’ on a River” is going through my head and I’m picturing some sort of Transformer action happening with the house and a tall stacks riverboat…and now casinos are now entering my mind. Not good.

• All photos from farnsworthhouse.org. The photos on that site are stunning, go check out the gallery if you need some inspiration today.
• Second photo by Jon miller, Hedrich Blessing
• Third photo by Tigerhill Studio
• Fourth photo by LPCI

I was googling to find out more information for you about a new public art program in Philadelphia (Arts on South) and I stumbled on this really fun blog, Mosiac Art Source. I wound up scrolling through for way too long and forgot all about the sixth borough and how they are giving artists free space in vacant buildings on South Street to try and “breathe new life” into an area that is suffering due to economic conditinos. Anyway, enjoy scrolling the mosaic image collection here, and read about how Pittsfield Mass succeeded with a similar empty storefront arts program here.

Philly mosaic building image by flickr member Scuzzi.

She wrote a $1.25 million dollar grant for The South Bronx Greenway:

She’s big into  green roofs as well.  There’s a Smart Roof Demonstration Project video here. To make a contribution towards the Greening the Ghetto effort, click here.

quotes and first two images via CNN.com

before and after renderings by Mathews Nielsen Landscape Architects

O.K., that line is a bit heavy-handed, but this article is more interesting than anything I can come up with today. I keep looking over my shoulder at this page I marked in the June issue of Metropolis. It’s just such a cool story (by William Bostwick) that has it all, like solving problems of bloody civil war and kidnapping right-wing guerrillas with architecture and public spaces. It mentions Medellin, a  word I’ve only heard on Entourage.  It has  bright-eyed architects fresh out of school who win the commission before they even have an office set up.  There is striking vernacular style made from local materials and constructed by the community. I can’t come up with anything half as interesting as this article, so I’m sharing it with you. Go read it in full over here. Maybe you already did. It is the June issue, after all. I tend to let my Metropolis issues stack up like most people let The New Yorker stack up.

photos by Nicolas Cabrera Andrade via Metropolis.com

I first heard of Yestermorrow Design/Build School via Karrie Jacobs’ The Perfect $100,000 House.*  It sounded so great to me, then I forgot all about it until I saw it mentioned in Metropolis recently. I used to know how to draft but I’ve always sucked in woodshop and I sure don’t know how to build – it sounds like a great experience – a diverse group hanging out at summer design/build camp in Vermont. During the courses, students learn all about creating their own space, how to render it as an architect would, and partake in building projects at the same time. There are 1-3 day workshops, 1 week courses, and 2 week courses. If you’ve ever dreamed about architecture or building and didn’t know where to start, this is a great place to dip in a toe before you take the plunge.*

Here’s their philosophy:

Yestermorrow’s courses are specifically designed to demystify the designing and building processes using hands-on, experiential learning to teach students the art and wisdom of good design and the skill and savvy of enduring craftsmanship as a single, integrated process.

This creative process offers students unique insight into the oftentimes disparate worlds of the architect and the builder. Architects are routinely trained without any building experience that might inform their designs, and builders are trained to execute without a sense of the overarching purpose or design of the project.

Combining design and building offers numerous advantages and promotes the creation of intentional and inspired buildings and communities that enhance our world. From the professional design/builder to the do-it-yourself design/build homeowner, every designer should know how to build and every builder should know how to design. This philosophy sets Yestermorrow apart from other educational institutions.

Something about their vibe reminds me of Sambo’s Rural Studio, probably because most of their built works benefit communities.

* I really enjoyed Jacobs’ book when I read it, it was a quest for a place to call home set in that American On the Road kind of format, which is ironic, but it works. I found myself longing for a few things: 1) PHOTOGRAPHS of the places she visited. The few sketches in the book were charming, but an architecture critic, no matter how good her written descriptions are, should know that her readers are thirsty for images 2) For Jacobs to repeat her journey in 2008. Prefab architecture has become much more prevalent and costs have gone way down in the few years since she started her research. At the time she wrote the book, she was on the cutting edge of the current prefab movement. 3) For Jacobs to actually (SPOILER ALERT!)  find the perfect $100,000 house and freaking buy it/build it and live in it already! Maybe it was the Keroac-ian love of the road that kept her from putting down roots.

Another note: After reading about her Yestermorrow experience, I was pretty shocked that someone who was such a well known architecture critic (NYTimes, Dwell, H&G…she rocks) didn’t even know how to draft or how to begin designing a space. With so many precedents in her brain to find inspiration from, she really didn’t even know where to begin. I know that’s the norm, that art critics aren’t Picasso, or music critics Stevie Wonder, but it still surprised me. On the flip side, a lot of architects can’t write or critique worth a damn and they seem completely unaware of this as they wax unpoetically in a bunch of archi-speak mumbo-jumbo. Anyway, then it hit me that the architecture critic knows how to EXPERIENCE and APPRECIATE the space, and that is what counts. Just sharing my catharsis with you – sometimes I’m a little slow to understand these things!

all photos from yestermorrow.org.

A few months ago, Andrew Garrison saw my post about Project Row House and sent me a copy of the documentary he directed called Third Ward TX. This is a project that is so genius and moving to me; I’ve been following its progress for years. If you’d like to catch up, you really need to screen this film. I’ve dreaded and thus procrastinated writing this review for months because I know that words can’t do it justice. The last time I was moved to tears by a project or an exhibit was Gee’s Bend Quilts. It doesn’t happen often to this old cynic!

In 1993, Rick Lowe founded Project Row House. He was struck by how much the dilapidated shotgun shacks in the city of Houston reminded him of John Biggers’ paintings. He calls the shotgun shack “a humble abode and a temple.” As Lowe and a group of artists renovated the homes, they created a community where artists-in-residence would come stay and exhibit. Thus, the artists engaged the community and brought attention to a place that had been abandoned by many. Once a neighborhood with a small town feel, the area had fallen on hard times.

The first major result of PRH was eight exhibition houses housing two different artist per year, with exhibitions and exhibitions in progress showing for six months a year. The doors are open for people to walk through. Exhibits range from portraits to this 2001 Walter Hood installation:

After reaching this success, Lowe realized it was only the tip of the iceberg in helping the community. Thus, The Young Mothers in Residency Program was born. Single mothers were able to live in housing that is part of the project, and they are aided by mentor moms. They live rent free for two years while completing educations. These families become part of a thriving community. The amount of dignity this effort brings to people seems too powerful to describe.

Perhaps the best analogy comes from an interview with a local found object sculptor and funny character from the neighborhood. When describing his own art, he says he “takes nothing and makes something of it.” Although this is the way PRW’s site may have seemed before the project began, I believe there was always something there. The energy and spirit from the old community had been stifled in the abandoned houses, but Rick Lowe sensed it and found a vent through which he freed it.

The documentary is so well done, from interviews with Lowe, artists, residents, community leaders, community characters, and even spec real estate developers. The film also finds wonderful images from the days when this was a strong African-American community as well as people who remember what it used to be like. Ironically, the success of the project has caused its next challenge; PRH has brought so much positive attention and improvement to a previously ignored area that real estate prices are rising. This means that property taxes are becoming unaffordable in an area where the average family of four has an income of $13,500 a year.

I can’t think of another project that compares to this one; at the heart of it is community, its other parts include art, historic preservation, urban planning, social work, culture, history, and architecture. The results of these parts working together are respect, dignity, strong families, education, true community and pride. John Biggers, one Lowe’s original inspirations for the project said it best: “Art will save your life.”

Thank you so much to Andrew Garrison for capturing this project so well on film and for sharing it with me. This is the perfect film to screen for artists, urban planners, mayor’s conferences, architecture school lectures, professional design associations, Brad Pitt, the list goes on. If you are interested in arranging a screening, contact Third Ward TX here.

To see a trailer, to purchase the film, or to arrange a screening, click here.

To learn more about The Row House Community Development Corporation, click here.

To learn more about The Young Mothers Residential Program, click here.

To learn more about John Biggers, get this book.

•First two photographs and the Young Mothers program photograph from ProjectRowHouses.org,

•John Biggers painting from The Art of John Biggers: View from the Upper Room

•Black and white photos from The Third Ward TX Gallery

•Walter Hood installation photo from wjhoodesignn.com

Master merchandiser, shop owner extraordinaire, new mom and my dear friend and former neighbor Suzannah Fischer (or is it Fisher now? She actually married a guy with the same last name, minus the “c”) has started a blog for her store, O’Suzannah Goods, called o’suz news. It’s a great blog for perusing the coolest gifties and accessories – Suz has an enviable eye for finding the freshest products. I owe most of my grad school credit card debt to Suzannah.

The Cape Cod Modern House Trust as seen on Modern House Notes. I spent hours this week catching up on Tom and Gina’s blog, after seeing a story in The NYTimes about the Alice Ball House I was sure was written by Tom (we linked over to this post back in January). Turns out it was written by someone who clearly had appreciated his research on the subject. Anyway, I recommend catching up with all of Tom and Gina’s posts, as the buildings they find are phenomenal, but in particular I want to help spread the word about The Cape Cod Modern House Trust. Here is a little more information from their website:

In the late 1930s, on the isolated ‘back shore’ of Wellfleet, a group of self-taught, architecture enthusiasts began building experimental structures based on the early Modern buildings they had seen in Europe. Through mutual friends they invited some of the founders of European Modernism to buy land, build summer homes and settle. Like their local hosts, the recently emigrated Europeans admired the traditional Cape Cod ‘salt boxes’. These ancient houses were simple, functional, owner-built and designed for long winters. The Modernist summer houses were inversions of these, oriented to capture views and breezes, perching lightly on the land. In the three decades that followed, these architects built homes for themselves, their friends and the community of internationally influential artists, writers, and thinkers that took root nearby. Though humble in budget, materials and environmental impact, the Outer Cape’s Modern houses manage to be manifestos of their designers’ philosophy and way of living, close to nature, immersed in art and seeking community. The work of these architects and their clients spread around the world. These houses are the physical remnants of this unique convergence.

The Trust is trying to raise money to save and maintain some of these modern treasures…

… and in conjunction with the Truro Castle Hill Center for the Arts, has organized a Modern House Tour on August 24. I’m going to try to attend. Truro is probably the most beautiful spot on the Cape. The picture above is from the Truro Castle Hill Center for the Arts Home Page. As a chair-obsessed freak, I had to share it! The chairs themselves honor this group of artists.

The Tunnel House, as seen on Home Rejuvenation. Check out the post where they found it over at Designverb – the pictures are pretty mind-blowing!

Get your office looking sharp by checking out “Office Eye Candy” from Emma’s Design Blog.

•Jack Phillip’s Bug House photo courtesy of Florence Phillips via modern house notes

• Castle Hill chairs from CastleHill.org

•Tunnel House pictures from flickr member Brother O’Hara via Designverb via Home Rejuvenation.

• Office picture via Emma’s Design Blog

I’ve been meaning to tell you about this great book my Mom brought me as a hostess gift about a year ago. It’s a monograph of the work of Samuel ‘Sambo’ Mockbee, appropriately titled Rural Studio: Samuel Mockbee and an Architecture of Decency. I kept putting it off, because frankly, scanning stuff is a boring chore, plus, it’s really hard to pick just a few projects from this book. I doubt I can summarize it better than the book jacket:

For almost ten years, Samuel Mockbee, a recent MacArthur “genius grant” recipient, and his architecture students at Auburn University have been designing and building striking houses and community buildings for impoverished residents of Alabama’s Hale County. Using salvaged lumber and bricks, discarded tires, hay and waste cardboard bales, concrete rubble, colored bottles, and old license plates, they create inexpensive buildings in a style Mockbee describes as ‘contemporary modernism grounded in Southern culture.’”

This is the first project from Sambo I remember seeing back in architecture school. It’s The Cardboard Pod and is made from baled sheets of corrugated wax-impregnated boards:

This is the incredible Yancey Chapel, built around an existing rusted trough and constructed from 1000 dirt-filled used tires:

This property near The Yancey Chapel is called The Goat House, a former shed for animals that Rural Studio originally planned as part of an artists’ colony. The colony never, um, colonized, and the building is now a residence. You see the Chapel aesthetic influence on the structure:

Anyway, I was catching up on my pile of Metropolis magazines over the weekend – I tend to let them stack up because I like to read all of the articles, and I tend to save them for airplanes or vacations. Anyway, I almost fell over when I saw this house featured. It’s a few blocks from my house in the Virginia-Highland neighborhood of Atlanta, and I’ve admired it on walks many times. “The second burning of Atlanta” has been happening in my neighborhood in the form of teardowns – cute little bungalows and cottages that give the neighborhood its charm are decimated so that square-footage monsters can use up every inch of each lot. I’ve always admired this addition as an appropriate and really interesting to look at; in fact, I’ve always wanted to knock on the door and ask if I could check out the interior, but I’m just not that aggressive.

Well, to make a long story longer, Sambo and his Rural Studio designed this addition to a 550-square foot former dairy barn in exchange for two canoes. The job was finished by Lloyd Bray and Durham Crout of Atlanta. According to the article, they used copper cladding, pegged cypress and traditional Japanese joinery techniques. The meticulous work has paid off. The color has a warm glow, and I love the contrast between the materials they used and the wild garden is remarkable. By the way, this shot was taken level with the house, but it sits below the street level, so the height of the addition doesn’t give that overshadowing hideous, “I’m too tall for this neighborhood and I belong in Alpharetta” look that most of the teardowns in my neighborhood have.

Though Sambo is not with us anymore, his good works live on. For more information on Rural Studio, click here. Their website is really good. If you’d like to join in the Outreach Program, click here. To donate to Rural Studio, click here.You can catch the full Metropolis article in a much better format than squinting at my scan right here.• Top three images from the above-mentioned book, taken by Timothy Hursley• Bottom two images from Metropolis magazine, photos by Michael Griffeth