An example of humans trying to bring order to nature

I recently encountered this view at The Morton Arboretum:

Here is their mission:

The Morton Arboretum is The Champion of Trees.

The Morton Arboretum is an internationally recognized tree-focused botanical garden and research center. Its 1,700 acres of beautiful tree-filled landscapes are a place of enjoyment, a vibrant hub for nature education, and a world-renowned center for scientific research that studies trees and how to sustain them. Its vision is a greener, healthier, more beautiful world where people and trees thrive together. As a nonprofit organization, the Arboretum’s mission is to collect, study, display, and conserve trees and other plants from around the world to inspire learning, foster enjoyment, benefit communities, encourage action, and enhance the environment.

On a pleasant morning, this plaza was an enjoyable place to be. At the same time, there is very little “natural” about it. Concrete and other manmade materials are around. The landscape is shaped in particular ways to direct a person’s view and they ways they can move in the space. The grass, water, and plants and trees are where humans wanted them to be. The sound of the nearby highway is present.

A garden or park or plaza brings order to nature. Wild spaces can be inhospitable to human habitation or aims. We have lots of current examples of humans attempting to bring order to nature, ranging from green lawns to Central Park to guiding the flow of water to growing food.

Whether this order is good is open for debate. It may be pleasing for humans while disrupting wild settings and habitats. It may be order from a particular perspective but not from others. What is considered ordered natural settings may very well change in the coming decades though it is hard to imagine that humans would stop pursuing this goal.

The newly constructed modern farmhouse is…a scourge? A McMansion? Popular because of a TV show?

A story about an LA teardown describes the rise of the modern farmhouse:

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Hollywood actor Chris Pratt, best known for his roles in the sitcom Parks and Recreation and Marvel’s Guardians of the Galaxy, has spurred the wrath of architecture enthusiasts over his decision to raze a historic 1950s house, designed by Craig Ellwood, to make way for a 15,000-square-foot mansion.

The move to demolish came shortly after Pratt purchased the mid-century home in an off-market sale for $12.5 million in January 2023. The house is located in the Brentwood neighborhood of Los Angeles, across the street from Pratt’s mother-in-law, former first lady of California Maria Shriver. The historic house will be replaced by a modern farmhouse designed by architect Ken Ungar, Architectural Digest reported, and is now in the early stages of construction. Until its completion, Pratt is waiting it out with his wife, Katherine Schwarzenegger, in a $32 million estate in Los Angeles’ Pacific Palisades neighborhood…

Pratt’s new home is adjacent to Shriver’s two homes, each valued at over over $10 million, carving out a family compound of sorts in the neighborhood. The demolition reflects the rising trend of modern, multimillion-dollar farmhouses cropping up in America’s suburbs that has gone on for decades and was newly revived after TV personality couple Joanna and Chip Gaines launched their debut show Fixer Upper, in which they remodeled old farmhouses, according to a National Association of Realtors report. Ungar has designed several multimillion-dollar mansions, including modern farmhouses, in Los Angeles.

This raises at least a few questions. Here are mine:

  1. Are the typical new farmhouses McMansions? In this particular case above, this is a home much larger than a McMansion. But, many modern farmhouses might fall into McMansion territory if they are a teardown, have some strange architectural features, and/or are part of suburban sprawl.
  2. In this particular case, the modern farmhouse is replacing a unique single-family home. But, one reading of the summary above is that the issue goes beyond this one property. The farmhouse has spread everywhere. Are there too many? Is it just a passing fad? Will a new style – and problem – be in play ten years from now?
  3. Could one TV show have significantly fed this trend? It is easy to point to a popular show – and then brand – as leading the charge. It would be interesting to see some numbers: how many builders and buyers were directly influenced by Chip and Joanna? Were they the only ones pushing modern farmhouses or were there other influencers? In this one case, who was Chris Pratt influenced by?

Flower centerpieces and sacred places

During a recent day of learning and good conversation, I enjoyed this centerpiece:

Where does one find flowers arranged around religious buildings? It makes total sense for a meeting of Partners for Sacred Places.

Robert Brenneman and I argued in Building Faith that religious buildings shape religious experiences and communities. I know nothing about centerpieces but perhaps they could have a similar effect. In a pleasant hotel meeting space with numerous round tables, the centerpieces might play multiple roles: (1) highlighting the topic at hand; (2) providing a focal point in the middle of a table that is difficult to talk across in a crowded room; and (3) providing beauty in a formal setting.

Buildings and physical settings can be purely functional. Imagine the same setting above with no tablecloth and no centerpiece. Yet, that bare bones approach is also influential. Perhaps it communicates efficiency and informality. Perhaps it reflects the resources available. The absence of decoration or “extras” could be highly intentional to promote a different message regarding beliefs and practices.

I am grateful for those with the skills and gifts to design and carry out these additions to our places.

The modern box houses of Los Angeles

In the last few decades, more modern box houses have come to Los Angeles:

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During the 20th century, Los Angeles home styles were as eclectic as its populace. Wood-shingled Craftsmans mingled with white stucco bungalows. Depending on the neighborhood, you might get an ornate Victorian, chic Midcentury Modern or even a Mayan Revival-style showplace — something that begs you to look at it, admire it. A house that invites an opinion, good or bad.

But although the box houses’ bulk draws attention, its design is basic. They’re like an iPhone: simple and smooth. Clean lines, glass walls, simple shades of white or black. Critics see them as soulless and inert.

Modern homes don’t have time or money for a turret, overhanging eave or stained-glass windows. Sloped ceilings, skylights and other superfluous accents take away from the bottom line — the largest amount of square footage possible for the cheapest possible construction price…

When such homes started popping up in the wake of the housing crash in 2008, some assumed the trend would be temporary. But demand for the style still rages on today…

The “bento boxes of today,” as Parsons calls them, are shiny, sleek and sexy, but he said they’ll be tomorrow’s tear-downs.

The article suggests these architectural styles are cyclical: builders, developers, real estate agents, municipalities, buyers, and others are involved in changing architectural styles. So, then the question here is whether these homes are here to stay or whether another style will emerge and the modern box home will fade?

If I had to guess, I would suggest the modern box home will hang on as a consistent but small presence in the LA housing market for several reasons. They are simple and relatively cheap to build. They offer a lot of space. In uncertain economic times and pricey housing markets, these are hard factors to overlook.

There is also a segment of the market that finds them attractive. The modernist home has been around for decades. Most Americans might not choose it as their preferred style but some would. In a large metropolitan region like Los Angeles, some will prefer this design.

Given the unique housing market of Los Angeles, perhaps the real question is whether modern homes are catching on elsewhere in the United States. When housing costs are not as high, is the modernist house one people want? In my area, several such homes come to mind but they are rare.

Look out for the floating house

Could floating houses become more popular in the coming years?

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About 3 billion people, roughly half of the world’s population, lives within 125 miles of a coastline, according to the Population Reference Bureau. Eventually, coastal cities could claim not just the waterfront, but also the water, building in their harbors, bays, canals and rivers.

It’s already happening in the Netherlands. With a third of its land below sea level, the country has floating offices, a floating dairy farm and a floating pavilion. Floating buildings are often built atop concrete and foam pontoon foundations, allowing them to sit on the water, and rise and fall with currents.

Proponents of the design argue that these buildings protect the environment. While a 2022 study published in the Journal of Water & Climate Change found that floating structures can have a positive benefit, attracting birds to nest and providing habitat and food for sea life, the study also found that they can impact light, currents, wind patterns and water quality…

Yet, as sea levels rise, low-lying countries like the Maldives are grappling with an existential threat, and building on the water is a way to create land from the encroaching sea. The government, in partnership with the developer Dutch Docklands, is building an entire floating neighborhood in a lagoon 10 minutes by boat from Malé, the nation’s capital.

Next year, the first phase of the 5,000-modular unit development will open — apartments, schools, shops and restaurants built on a floating landscape of serpentine jetties fitted together like Lego pieces. “That is the future,” said Mr. Olthuis, the Dutch architect, who developed the master plan for the Maldives development.

Even without the threat of climate change, these options could create interesting new possibilities in places around the world. Imagine visiting a floating area or more residential units with waterfront views and access.

At the same time, I imagine it would take some work to start mass-producing floating housing. Would there be common sizes or units? Is the infrastructure in place in many locations to accommodate such housing?

“The modern farmhouse is the millennial answer to the baby boomer McMansion”

Of modern farmhouses and McMansions:

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This post-agrarian look is the defining style of the current era — dominating renovations, new construction and subdivisions in communities with no connection to farming, with interiors that have open concept floor plans, wide plank wood floors, plenty of shiplap, and kitchens with apron sinks and floating shelves made of reclaimed wood. Even multifamily homes are getting the modern farmhouse treatment, falling into the barndominium category, as they embrace vertical siding, gables and tin roofs, giving a folksy nod to apartment complexes…

Modern farmhouse, a contemporary style that bears a passing resemblance to a traditional farmhouse, first entered the American lexicon a decade ago on “Fixer Upper,” the HGTV sensation that catapulted the hosts, Chip and Joanna Gaines, onto the national stage, and persuaded homeowners to decorate their walls with enormous clocks and word art proclaiming the banal — Family! Eat! Coffee!…

The National Association of Home Builders does not track the popularity of the style. But Deryl Patterson, the president of Housing Design Matters, which designs homes for builders, says the look accounts for more than a quarter of her company’s work. “If a builder says, ‘I need three elevations,’ one will always be modern farmhouse,” she said…

Now, at a moment when populism has taken hold amid deep political divisions, the style of the day is one that imagines a romanticized and fantastical agrarian past — a real farmhouse doesn’t have a walk-in shower with a waterfall showerhead or a sliding barn door to hide a well-appointed laundry room with a weathered placard that says “wash and dry.” As the country grapples with existential questions about its identity and its future, the house of choice makes you think about spinning wool into yarn.

Several thoughts come to mind:

-The suggestion here is that housing design trends come in waves. The McMansions of the 1990s and early 2000s have largely come and gone. They are driven by social, cultural, and economic changes. What comes after modern farmhouse? (Just as an example of a housing style that has not had such a large wave, modernist structures have had their proponents for decades and have not caught on in a large way – even if elements end up in new homes today).

-The connection in the headline to McMansions means that homes in this style may not be long-lasting. Is the quality of the modern farmhouse in question? Are they just imitating other homes?

-The nod to an agrarian past is connected to real occupational patterns. For example, in the early 1900s, more than 30% of Americans worked in agriculture. Not so much any longer.

-How much of this is driven by particular real estate owners? The examples in this story involve fairly expensive homes and renovations. HGTV appeals to particular audiences. There are examples in this story of less expensive modern farmhouse items but purchasing a modern farmhouse can require a lot of resources.

We will see how many modern farmhouses are built and/or created and what then happens to them down the road.

Set up the millennials in a McMansion for a horror film

The recently released film Bodies Bodies Bodies takes place in a McMansion:

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What happens to a group of vapid, bored, rich gen Z-ers/millennials holed up in a McMansion during hurricane season when the wi-fi goes out?

If the film Bodies Bodies Bodies is anything to go by, they’ll probably end up killing each other — unless someone else does it first.

While some might say the McMansion itself is a horror, McMansions are no stranger to horror stories. How exactly might a horror film involve a McMansion? A few ideas:

-This particular film follows 7 friends. This means plenty of space for people to sleep, live, and interact. A McMansion provides plenty of space.

-The tackiness or gaudiness or lack of authenticity of a McMansion can provide a creepy or unsettling backdrop.

-The McMansion falls apart at a key moment or the limited architectural quality lets the characters down.

-The extra interior square footage a McMansion offers provides more space for nefarious actors to operate.

-The McMansion could be set in a neighborhood of McMansions, perhaps unfinished, that are all creepy and ominous.

A horror film set in suburbia can play off a common idea that suburban life is not as happy or successful as it seems. How much more so could this be true in a McMansion, a home that tries to broadcast its success in obvious ways.

Combine a horror film with the negative traits of a McMansion and there are plenty of options!

Linking “newness” in a home with particular materials, styles

The impression of “newness” in a home is connected to particular updates and items:

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But not simply any new floors and counters will create the desired effect. The feeling of newness is largely relative, and the only real key to creating it is banishing the things that people expect to see in a dwelling built decades ago—“landlord beige” walls, all-white appliances, dingy carpet, laminate counters, wood so warm-toned it’s practically orange. Gray floors and all of their comorbid design phenomena are cool and crisp and modern by comparison, even if they’re also crushingly boring and totally character-free and really limit a space’s potential capacity to feel warm and alive and like a home.

And the purpose of these changes is to sell properties:

In theory, the things that make up the interior of your home should be either beautiful or useful; if you’re lucky, they’ll be both. And surely some people do lose their mind for gray laminate or subway tile or barn doors, and not just because there’s no accounting for taste. Once a particular design element becomes a shorthand for newness and freshness and successful domesticity, people come around to it precisely because they want their home to reflect those qualities. But that’s a different phenomenon than appreciation for the thing itself—for how nice it is to look at, or how much more functional it makes a space. In the hands of flippers and landlords, these choices are generally made not by people who want to fill the world with the best, safest, most comfortable homes possible but by those looking for a return on the bets they’ve made on the place where you’ll start your family or play with your future grandkids. They’ve chosen these things just as much for what they aren’t as for what they are—inoffensive, inexpensive, innocuous. These houses aren’t necessarily designed to be lived in. They’re designed to go into contract.

I wonder if this process mirrors that of the fashion industry and other culture industries. The production, sale, and popularity of created works and objects moves in waves and trends. Not too long ago, homes featured granite countertops and stainless steel appliances; now it is subway tile and grey floors; shortly it will be something else. Or, formal living rooms were a thing to open concept to providing smaller spaces to enable working from home. The key for those who want to make and sell properties is to appear on trend or close to it.

A related argument: homeowners and sellers exhibit their investment, emotional and economically, in a property by updating it to more recent trends. They show that they care about the home fitting in a new era rather than being left behind. It can suit a new family just as well as it did its original occupants.

Would it be possible to signal newness in different ways? A particular smell? How the occupants use the space? Altered infrastructure (ranging from new furnaces or electrical systems to greener options)? Integrating the Internet, screens, and sounds?

The bland interiors that pushes viewers to choose gaudy McMansions instead

A review of a renovation TV show suggests it is more fun to see McMansion than bland interiors:

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But like any good home design show, the real main character is not the couple doing the renovations, but the end results. For the two years that I’ve watched this program, I’ve tried to dial down what one might call this aesthetic, which is both specific and generic—like every other high-end Airbnb listing on the market, or an antiseptic boutique hotel that prides itself on design. But it wasn’t until halfway through this season when one of the McGee’s clients hit the nail on the head. “It’s upscale-looking,” a woman says of her newly-renovated basement, which is divided into three clear “zones” meant to delineate what kinds of leisure activities should occur there and why. It’s not quite upscale, but suggestive of it instead, a different kind of new money aesthetic. But if given the choice between Studio McGee’s all-white fantasia and a giant McMansion fit for a Real Housewife of New Jersey, I’d take gold restroom fixtures and Travertine tile any day. At the very least, it’s fun.

What is the look inferior to glitzy McMansions?

What this translates to is large architectural gestures that convey wealth—vaulted ceilings in the kitchen and the living room, a “wine room” with built-in bookshelves that meet the ceiling, and other flourishes that speak to the vast amounts of money this couple must have to maintain their bonus home. It’s not that any of these design choices are anywhere close to hideous, per se—Studio McGee’s signature look is quieter than the Property Brothers, but more sophisticated that Chip and Joanna Gaines’s farmhouse chic. Staged as they are, though, the spaces designed by Studio McGee lack any discernible personality. Children get giant bedrooms with queen-size beds; every kitchen has an enormous island, whether or not the space actually needs it. (While most kitchens could use an island, not every space needs one. Understanding this difference is crucial.)

Is the primary offense that the bland yet wealthy interiors required a lot of money to implement but have no personality? McMansions are often criticized for their blandness; they are big boxes with large rooms that people can fill in many different ways.

It could be that the “fun” of the loud McMansion is that it shows up better on TV and with its particular cast of characters. The show under review is meant to show off a particular aesthetic of its designers while the Real Housewives of New Jersey has a different purpose. The loud McMansion on TV might be fun in the way that McMansion Hell is fun: you make fun of the McMansion and its dwellers. Which home viewers might want to live in might be a different story.

Summing up the environmental issues McMansions present

Australian architect and artist Mathieu Gallois working with several groups described the negative environmental consequences of McMansions:

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The project organisers made the following conclusions about McMansions: “the brick veneer construction’s thermal performance is poor and inappropriate for Australia’s hot climatic conditions; the foundations are laid on a large concert slab that possess high levels of embodied energy; the terracotta tiled roof’s thermal performance is poor and inappropriate for the Australian climate; the aluminium window frames have a high level of embodied energy and their thermal performance is poor; the window glazing is of a poor level, as is its thermal performance; the PVC plumbing has a high embodied energy; the steel lintels have a high embodied energy and represent lazy design solutions”.

On this basis they argued that “Australian brick veneer homes are the biggest and most poorly designed built homes in the developed world; too big, not built to be recycled, not responsive to climatic conditions, not built for future adaptability, with poor cross ventilation. Moreover, such houses are designed to face the street rather than being orientated to maximise the site’s positive climatic engagement; their multi-faceted roofs do not optimise or facilitate the provision of PV panels or solar HWS; their roofs do not harvest rainwater; the stairwells are not sealable; and the rooms and living spaces are generic, unresponsive to different seasonal climatic conditions”.

That is a negative assessment, particularly compared to how homes might be constructed in a greener manner.

Just thinking about these negative environmental consequences, I wonder if it is possible to create a greener McMansion that roughly keeps the size, architecture, and price that a decent number of Americans and Australians are willing to buy. Could strategic choices be made to make a significantly greener home without too many alterations? This would provide a different product and help address concerns some might have about McMansions.