Marre Design Group, Ltd.

What can I do on my property in San Francisco?

Wed, 21 Sep 2022 22:42:12 GMT

Get Your Home Design Approved for a Bay Area San Francisco Building Permit

I often have people ask, “Tom, what can I build? Can I add X, Y, and Z to my home design?”

The answers to these questions aren't typically up to your architect. Sure, we need to make sure your design is safe and follows the laws of physics.

Your local municipality will have the final say in what you can and can’t build.

We know the whole permitting process can be unnerving and confusing.

And, if you want to build something that is outside of the guidelines, then you will need to request a variance. Talk about stressful!

If you need a helping hand in understanding what you can build on your property and the process of getting a San Francisco Building Permit process, stay with me. In this blog, I'm going to explain:

The key elements that affect what you can build
The Bay Area's common building rules and regulations
All about the San Francisco building permit process
How to handle building permit rejection
My experience-backed tips for getting your variance approved

The 3 Factors That Affect Building Permitting In the Bay Area

Before I get into the building permit minefield, I want you to understand that, though we're talking about laws here, the answers you're looking for aren't always black and white.

The type of property you can build in San Francisco will vary greatly depending on the following 3 factors:

1 - Your Municipality

The municipality you live in will affect what, where, and how you can build. Municipalities will have their own set of building rules and regulations you must follow for your building permit to be approved.

2 - Your Neighbors

A major factor in most building laws and regulations is how your property's renovation or new custom home will affect your neighbors. Neighbors also play a vital role in the approval of variances. Often, if your neighbors are okay with your variance, so will your local city planning department.

3 - Your Property Type

The permitted square footage, slope, shape, and height of your property, among other factors, will limit what you can legally achieve with your new home design or renovation project.

You must follow local rules and regulations if you want the best chance of getting your building permit approved. But what are the most common building codes in the San Francisco Bay Area?

Common Building Rules and Regulations in the Bay Area

There simply isn't enough time or space to lay out every building rule and regulation in a single blog post (nor would it make for an interesting read.)

However, if you want to see all of San Francisco’s building regulations in detail (or would like something boring to help you fall asleep), feel free to peruse the official San Francisco Code Library .

We’re referencing San Francisco’s Zoning as an example, but keep in mind that each individual community in the Bay Area has a similar Municipal Code that is unique to that specific area.

Instead, I'll stick to the most common ones you need to know about, which are:

Building Setback Restrictions
Lot Coverage Restrictions
Building Height Limitations
View Regulations
Daylight Plane Regulations
Privacy Regulations
Sloping Regulations
Floor Area Ratio Limitations

Building Setback Restrictions

A building setback is a minimum distance your home must be “set back” from a property line, street, river, etc. In San Francisco, this is usually 10-14 feet. By way of comparison, in Palo Alto, a side yard setback for a home in their “R1 Single-Family District” starts at 6 feet. In Hillsborough, the same setback is typically 25 feet and in Atherton, it can be as much as 50 feet on their widest lots… or even more than that if your proposed new home is too tall!

Note: From here on we are only going to reference numbers for San Francisco – just to give you an example. But as I’ve just tried to show, many of these same restrictions in different municipalities can vary widely, so it’s important to check with your local planning office. In other words, don’t plan your new Woodside custom home design based on the numbers from San Francisco that you see here!

Lot Coverage Restrictions

Often, there will be restrictions on lot coverage.

The San Francisco building code states that the maximum lot coverage of your property, excluding permitted obstructions, must be 75% of the total lot area.

What does this mean? Simply put, you can only build on 75% of the total lot area.

Building Height Limitations

You will always have rules about how high you can build.

Building height limits depend on the particular municipality or zone your property will fall into but are typically around 30 feet. If you're unsure what zone you live in, you can check out this San Francisco Zoning Map.

View Regulations

Many homeowners buy home's for the views, which is why the law aims to protect them. This might look like restrictions on height or location of items that would block the view.

Daylight Plane Regulations

This regulation essentially prevents you from creating unreasonable shadows on your neighbor's property. Your neighbor deserves some sunshine too.

Privacy Regulations

You also need to consider your and your neighbor's privacy when following San Francisco's Building Permit regulations, especially if you're building a second-story home or rooftop patio.

Sloping Regulations

Building your property on a sloping lot takes extra consideration, particularly regarding your property's massing (shape). Every municipality in the Bay Area will have its own building permit codes outlining how to handle hillside lots.

Floor area ratio regulations

One of the final things I look for in the municipal code is the maximum floor area ratios and whether a basement is included in the floor area calculation, as this can make a significant difference towards your maximum potential development.

What Is the Bay Area Building Permit Approval Process?

The 8 main steps getting a building permit in the Bay Area are:

Understand the municipal building codes (talk to a design professional or city planning official if you need help interpreting them).
Look for further information on your local Planning Department website (Like Residential Design Guidelines, Additional Dwelling Unit information, Urban Lot Split regulations, etc.).
Create your architectural designs.
Develop detailed construction documents.
Include reports/studies from relevant contractors.
Submit documents online or in person.
The architect answers questions from the board.
Await residential design project approval.

Learn more about the process of getting a San Francisco building permit on the official website. Or contact your local planning department - they are often willing to help!

How Long Does the Building Permit Approval Process Take in the Bay Area?

My clients are often surprised by the time it takes to get your home design project approved by your local city planners. Depending on the complexity of your property, you can wait anywhere from a few months to a few years to receive your building permit approval!

In many municipalities, y ou must go through an Architectural Review or Development Approval process before applying for a building permit. This is an extra task that can add a lot of time to the process!

How to speed up the building permit approval process

The key to speeding up your building permit process is working with an architecture firm that really understands all these pesky municipal codes and who can navigate the expectations of the respective Review Boards while still making their clients dream home come to life. And with all that, can also quickly produce a comprehensive set of drawings.

Take one of my Hillsborough clients, for example. We managed to get all their design work and drawings produced AND have it approved by the Architectural Design Review Board in just six months, despite it being a complicated luxury home project.

Thanks to how quickly we got approval, we stayed ahead of Hillsborough's Grading Moratorium, which is a hard stop on construction during the poor weather of the winter months, and were able to start construction right away.

Our clients couldn't believe how fast we worked. And they were thrilled to hear the overwhelmingly positive comments our application and design received from the Architectural Review Team.

Stressing About The Permit Approval Process?

The main thing I'll say is, "don't worry!". With the right design professional by your side, you will get approval eventually. Even if there are unforeseen complexities or unreasonable neighbors, there are always alternatives we can try to get your project approved.

A major part of my process is to give you as much information as possible about the permit process so that there are no surprises later and things can go smoothly. That way, if there's something you want that we can't achieve, you'll know before you make any financial investment.

If I think there are elements to your desired design that might be more challenging to have approved, I'll discuss what that might look like, so you're fully aware that it might not be approved without some compromises, and if not, what concession you should be prepared to make.

Research Is Key To Making It Through Permit Approval

I once sat in on a Design Review meeting where the homeowner and his architect were trying to get a major renovation approved.

There were several conflicts with their local building codes, and I honestly wondered if they'd read the guidelines. When it wasn't approved for the second time, the owner was shocked and very upset.

I felt terrible for them because their architect should have let them know what they were up against and what they might need to compromise.

The bottom line is that there are many ways to solve design problems. That's why I listen to your needs, wants, tastes, and so on in my design meetings.

Combining that with a solid understanding of municipal codes and guidelines, I can arrange the jigsaw puzzle so that it perfectly meets your needs while also satisfying the Architecture and Design Review Board.

Getting approval can take a little finesse, especially for variances, but it is possible!

Can I Get a Variance in the Bay Area?

You can certainly request a variance if you want a reduced setback, relaxation on the floor area ratio, structural coverage change, or some other change to the codes.

But that doesn't always mean the Planning Department and Architectural or Design Review Boards will approve it.

Here are some tips for getting your variance approved:

Make sure the variance doesn't impact neighb ors.
Get your neighbors on board with written support.
Ask a design professional to interpret the building code differently.
Make sure you're respecting the intent behind the code. What is the code meant to preserve or protect?
Give documents in support of the variance request (even better if you have case studies of similar variances in the neighborhood).
Clearly explain why the variance is needed for the success/strength of the overall design.

Variance Approval Can Take Major Effort

One of my recent projects, a major addition to a heritage home, had several variances that planning departments typically rejected.

We wanted to maintain the integrity of the heritage home and knew we needed to request several variances to do so.

In this case, we successfully argued to have reduced setbacks be grandfathered in(even when replacing the existing foundation in its entirety), building coverage ended up drastically over what the municipal code allows, and we were able to get a relaxation on the building height as well.

Any one of those variances can be challenging to support, let alone all three in one project!

But when a design is really well thought out, and you can support it by clearly showing why each relaxation to the code is appropriate to the project, you can get variance approval. It takes a lot more effort/ time, of course, but so worth it in the end!

Ready To Get Started On Your Dream Home Design?

Most homeowners dread the permitting process. You have a dream home and want to move forward with that dream. All that is standing in the way is the permit approval, right?

Thanks to this blog post you now know:

The answer to the question, “What can I build on my property in the Bay Area?”
And a lot more about the actual permitting process

Armed with those two items, you can move confidently towards the approval of your dream home.

Still feeling anxious? Partnering with a design professional like myself will eliminate the permit headaches and set you up for successful project approval.

If you'd like to learn more about my custom home design process or how I can help you understand building permits and get your project approved, please get in touch today!

Memorable Backdrops and New Projects

Wed, 02 Sep 2020 22:57:00 GMT

A few years ago my son and I excitedly joined my brother-in-law and two of his kids to summit Old Chief Mountain, in Glacier National Park, Montana. The feeling of standing on the very top of a mountain is almost indescribable, especially after the sometimes grueling work it can take to get there. It's truly fantastic. Scraped knees or hands, sore muscles, and in our case a loose rock falling on one of our feet, are momentarily forgotten and replaced with an immediate sense of accomplishment that you conquered that peak! Oh, it might have beat you up a little along the journey, but didn’t beat you . I have oft felt that there are some valuable life lessons to be learned from summiting. We can do hard things!

Chief Mountain, Montana - I have to admit, my wife doesn't like to see photos like these bottom three, particularly with me precariously perched some 1,300 feet above the scree slope saddle. So, perhaps don't share this post with her!

Although I really enjoyed the time working on this humble blog site, March and April 2020 were challenging months for my little firm, like many others, with the uncertainly in the market causing nearly a full stop on all my projects. However, I felt incredibly blessed in May to suddenly, almost overnight, become utterly overwhelmed with work as both old and new clients began to adjust to their new “normal” and were anxious once again to regain momentum on previously planned projects.

After many months, I finally have a slower day today, so I thought I’d spend it with you… the 13,508 people who took the time to read my admittedly amateur published posts. I’m still so surprised and grateful that you took the time! So, I thought I’d share a little of what I’ve been working on these past several months, starting with a project I was delighted to be invited to help out with. The site has tremendous views down a beautiful tree-lined valley, with nearby Old Chief Mountain as the backdrop. As I sat three years ago, with feet dangling precariously over the edge of that stunning summit, I unknowingly was looking down on my client’s pristine property. How fun to have the chance, now, to use virtually floor to ceiling triple-pain argon-filled windows as my canvas to capture the very view that so many talented artists have labored over!

The program (requirements) for the house was complex, with a number of pieces of the jigsaw puzzle that needed to fit together exactly right. Both view and sunlight needed to be captured correctly for the Master Suite, Living Room, Dining Room, Kitchen, and other spaces, while maintaining privacy where appropriate. The house would have a small attached atrium for growing herbs that needs as much sunlight as possible, while also being accessible to the Kitchen, serving as a second pantry, but for plants. The library, too, needed to be precisely placed, such that the showpiece could be glimpsed while entertaining guests, but also be a quiet retreat for a student’s homework or curling up with a great book.

The site is stunning, but as anyone familiar with Northern Montana and Southern Alberta weather would guess, there is a nearly relentless wind that comes up the valley. Consequently, besides the intricacy required of the floor plan, I also needed to design the house in such a way as to use the actual architecture of the home to provide shelter and protection from the wind to the important outdoor amenity spaces as well. Placement of patios and pool deck being particularly pertinent. Ah, alliteration!

While many of my projects have had some fantastic home gyms—besides the standard weights and treadmills, I’ve designed homes with squash courts, climbing walls, dance studios, and even a few with space for basketball—this was the first home that I’ve ever designed with a full yoga studio where my client is able to lead her class of 15 to 20 yogis. I love being able to share my experience and expertise from the past 20 years, but I have to say, I also genuinely love “firsts”, and the research that that entails. That’s one of the reasons I love custom home design so much; in many ways, every project is a “first”.

The clients’ desire was that their design be traditional, particularly the exterior, as if the house had been on the homestead forever. We chose a Tudor Style, with full brick and sandstone masonry, tied together with wood battens, timbers, and copper detailing. It would be somewhat reminiscent of the historic Prince of Wales Hotel, finished in 1927 in nearby Waterton Lakes National Park.

Here’s a quick look at what we came up with (these are just the preliminary design drawings, but they give you the idea!)... I'd love to hear what you think, so feel free to comment!

It's been so fun to take advantage of the Chief Mountain views from this beautiful site. I’ve often felt that my career in architecture has been like climbing a mountain, with challenging stretches coupled with intermittent incredible vistas.

But I’m not yet to the summit, and after 20 years I’m still loving the climb!

Seriously, who writes a blog about hallways, anyway?!

Wed, 27 May 2020 14:49:00 GMT

For the past few weeks I’ve been chatting with a client about designing their new home on a truly spectacular East Coast homestead that has a little over a thousand feet of stunning Atlantic Ocean waterfront. I confess that such a site can be almost instantly inspiring. There’s something about the water that is so serene, it’s almost spiritual. It completely captivates me. It always reminds me of learning to surf as a starving student in Los Angeles, on a duct tape clad surfboard that a classmate scavenged from a dumpster for me, and of which an observant local remarked, “Dude, if you can ride that board, you can ride anything !” Even being rather embarrassed by my board couldn’t keep me from the ocean swells at Hermosa Beach early every Saturday morning. There is just something about it. Maybe that’s why so many architects like to propose water features and reflecting pools.

Cliffs and Lighthouse at Aquinnah Beach, the southwest tip of Martha's Vineyard

Photo credit: Vie Magazine + Massachusetts Travel & Tourism

With any property on the ocean, views to the exterior are obviously vital to the design program, from the very moment my Steadtler felt tip first finds paper. But the same is true of many different locations I’ve worked at over the years, taking advantage of views varying from downtown city skylines, nearby mountains, a gurgling creek alongside a “secret garden”, or even a meaningful tree furnishing a tire swing that my client played on as a child and that had special significance to them. It can be incredible to use windows as the canvas to capture what has inspired artist's brush strokes centuries over.

I’ll admit that I can be a bit of a window snob. Not all canvases are created equal. Even on homes that have no specific views beyond courtyards we’ve created, windows are one of the most essential elements in any new design. Their precise placement, proportions, and planning impact not only the views and the connection from interior to exterior, but also provide critical natural light and shadow into each space. They can define the very style of the home itself. However, fervently placed fenestration notwithstanding, far too often overlooked are what I consider to be equally critical views; those found throughout the interior of a home.

Curling up in a cozy chair for a quiet moment overlooking the landscape can be so calming, reflective, and peaceful. But the reality with even the most beautiful vistas is that as the sun goes down the mesmerizing sound of waves crashing on the shore may linger, but the cherished view largely disappears. Even throughout the day—or perhaps on properties perched near a city center's skyscrapers, whose lights come alive each evening as its commuters hustle away—views outside are more often not the central focus, beyond a guest’s initial tour. More often we tend to focus inward, furniture placement planned accordingly, oriented towards an interior focal point.

On the other hand a view down a hallway, coming down a set of stairs, or standing at the kitchen island is experienced multiple times every single day. It becomes so regular an occurrence that most people don’t give it much thought; geeky people like me aside, most normal people don’t stand at the end of their hallway to admire the “view”. However, subconsciously if those interior views, perhaps perceived as pedestrian, are handled with care they can help a home to feel every bit as calming and peaceful. Arguably more so, even though a visitor may not be able to articulate exactly why .

You get a different feeling when you look down a hallway at a dead end, compared to if there is a window centered at the end. Even a simple piece of art with a little light can dramatically change an otherwise off-putting subconscious sentiment a dead end can convey. There is a lot to be said for symmetry, as you look through an opening, or multiple openings. When appropriately aligned, one opening can be used to frame another, and can not only be beautiful, but calming and cozy. It’s especially evident when a focal point at the end of that view is perfectly centered within the openings. The space simply feels good to be in. But when off, the eye picks it up immediately and a room suddenly feels uncomfortable to be in. Symmetry isn’t a cure-all, of course, it’s just one tool of many in the design toolbox when considering interior views throughout a home.

This is a view of the entry door on one of my projects, looking through an archway below the main stairs. I include the picture of it under construction because of the epiphany they had when the archway was first framed. The arch needed to be at an exact height, and have a precise radius, so that it would "frame" the entry door. When the archway was installed, and the framer stood back to look towards the entry, he suddenly understood what I meant by "framing" the view. The entry door is exactly centered, as it should be.

When in a home with a 10 foot tall ceiling, the extra height can lend to a feeling of openness that can be really comfortable when apportioned correctly. At a convention center I attended once, ironically for a design awards presentation for which I had been a judge, the unusually low 10 foot ceiling felt crushing. It felt awful. Why the difference? The proportions of the space were way off. Psychologically when you’re inside you want to see the ceiling. A ceiling offers perceived protection, and so when coming into a room, if it’s height is such that the ceiling is outside of your peripheral vision, you tend to look up without really even realizing it. In a well-proportioned space the connection where wall meets ceiling should be just within the edge of our peripheral view. That’s part of the reason why little nooks are so appealing to smaller children. Conversely, in the low ceilinged convention center so much of the ceiling was seen, it was immediately uncomfortable, feeling akin to claustrophobic.

These critical views, even our everyday interior views, cultivate the tapestry that changes a house into a home. Beautiful décor and fine finishing can certainly add substantially, but alone usually can’t fix fundamentally poor design.

Seriously, who writes a blog about hallways , anyway? But if I spend so much time thinking about something so mundane, imagine the thought that goes into all the rest! And when thought out interior views are coupled with those unforgettable exteriors, a home really can become something outstanding. A place you love to be every ordinary day.

In this kitchen, the island sink centers exactly with paneled opening and fireplace ahead and the range and hood fan behind. The fireplace, with a TV hidden behind paneling above, are centered as well. Beside the fridge, there are a series of openings leading to a beautiful Butler's Pantry and Side Entry. A window is centered at the end of that view.

Arcanum Architecture, Tuscaloosa Residence

Tea2 Architects, Waterfront Stone and Glass

JLF Architects, Fishcreek Woods

A Modern Influence

Wed, 13 May 2020 14:18:00 GMT

I felt quite confident that the dog would one night eat me for a midnight snack. But scared for my life for the better part of those two hot summer months or not, even that dog didn’t detract from how much I enjoyed house-sitting in Altadena, California on a property known as “The Secret Garden”, in a home designed by renowned architect Frederick Monhoff. He and his wife Hildegarde spent 36 years right there, before retiring to the Napa Valley in 1962. And I absolutely loved it.

It was outstanding being in his second storey Master Bedroom, with one wall of built-in bookcases and two others made exclusively of glass, overlooking a large if somewhat ragged rooftop patio and the dense gardens below that made the property so uncharacteristically private in the Los Angeles area. It was somehow such a peaceful feeling to have the line between interior and exterior so blatantly blurred. To some extent, I’d already become interested in “modern” homes by then, but actually living in one of the originals of that architectural movement from the turn of the century gave me the unique opportunity to experience firsthand what worked well.

Frederick Monhoff, Flanner-Monhoff Property (guest house). Today the front deck on the Upper Floor (behind the stairs), was changed to be a large walk-in closet and library. The wall between the Main Floor Bedroom and Dining Room was removed, opening the space toward the Living Room.

Monhoff designed his Secret Garden property about the same time as Richard Neutra designed the famous Lovell House not far away in Los Feliz, boldly pioneering modern architecture as we know it today. While some architects seem only interested in imposing their own artistic vision and style, what I love about Neutra was that regardless of the size of the project he attentively ascertained his client’s wants and needs, often using long questionnaires to help understand them. He not only worked with nature but also psychology. In some cases he went so far as to have clients make diaries, in order to get a better understanding of their daily lives and lifestyle, and then created architecture in response. While I’ve never gone so far as asking a client for their diaries, what is often considered a “unique” approach in my own design process today, in fact closely resembles what Richard Neutra become famous for doing almost 100 years ago.

Richard Neutra, Lovell House (1929)

I am easily distracted, I admit, so when I start going through some of my favorite residential architect's websites, time seems to fly by for me like it does for my son on the Xbox, and I can't help myself but to get a little lost in it. Along with a friend and colleague of mine, I've inadvertently spent entire afternoons analyzing images from architects we both admire. And despite the disruption to my own firm's productivity, I have to confess that I really enjoy those afternoons! Honestly, I blame my colleague because he knows I'm easily lured in; I think when he wants a break he just brings up a pretty picture, and away we go.

This morning, thinking about this blog post turned into one of those wonderfully unproductive days. I thought it would be interesting to take a quick look at some of what has interested and influenced me, specifically in modern architecture, from both the past and firms I respect today. While the majority of my own firm's work tends to be more traditional or transitional , that (like Neutra) in response to my clients' needs, I do still love modern styled homes when done well. Modern architecture, in my experience, can often require an extra level of fine-tuning to get it just right (which is part of what I love about it), and unfortunately can be so very unforgiving without adequate attention.

I recall sitting in a USC auditorium listening to Eric Owen Moss present one of his buildings which was being built in Culver City. Firms like his, Frank Gehry’s, and others have done some amazing, ground breaking, world renowned buildings, and their technical prowess is absolutely astounding, with shapes and structures that seem to defy even gravity. But I have to confess as I sat in his lecture that day I found myself silently wondering: “Just because something can be built, should it be?” If I've done my job well, the homes designed could presumably be still standing 100 years from now. And, as Frank Lloyd Write once said, “A doctor can bury his mistakes, but an architect can only advise his client to plant vines!” So, while I appreciate so many aspects of his work, when it comes to our homes I sometimes can’t help but wonder about the relevance, beyond shock value, of Frank Gehry's own home, built in 1978 in Santa Monica, regardless of any associated iconic status gained.

Frank Gehry, Gehry Residence

On the other hand, one of the first architects that I paid attention to as I began my investigation, early in my architectural studies, had to be Richard Meier, who started his firm in 1963, and remains a presence in the office today. I fell in love with his consistently white work, while I sat sketching his buildings in the airy courtyard of the famous Getty Museum. I actually still have one of those old sketches framed on a wall in my home. Although I can understand why my wife doesn't like some of his homes, she always preferring cozy to cold, I still do appreciate much of Meier's work today. He masterfully takes advantage of light and shadow in a way that seemingly few others are capable.

Richard Meier, Oxfordshire Residence

Richard Meier, Flying Point Residence Pool House

In reality, there are so many firms offering great examples that continue to invade my unproductive afternoons that I could never capture even a fraction in a post like this. Some are projects done by direct competitors; I'm not the only firm that occasionally has good ideas, after all. Some are creating absolutely fantastic work that I love, but would never probably pitch to a client myself, like some of what's done at Olsen Kundig's Seattle office. However, even if I might not consider it myself, as they often flirt with an almost industrial feeling, it's nonetheless pretty phenomenal stuff that I turn to often. Some firms work is much closer to my own style or taste, creating modern houses that remain warm, welcoming, and "homey", with all the feeling that word invokes. I love a lot of the work done by Aidlin Darling in San Francisco, for example, or Tea2 Architects in Minnesota. I've followed both those firms for almost as long as I've been designing homes; not because I think all their work is perfect, but because it's clear in the details that they are paying very close attention indeed.

Ken Linsteadt's design process is probably about the polar opposite to mine, not truly finishing his designs until the day the clients move in. That approach tends to take much more time to build, with construction often being delayed, contractors frustrated, and budget overruns unlike anything I've ever encountered in my life. But his process aside, I can't argue with the result; Ken's brought some truly beautiful homes to life, and I certainly appreciate his work.

Of course, there are many others that have influenced me and continue to do so... perhaps one of these days I'll write a post about how one might choose between them all, or what to expect in professional fees, when you're ready to start on your own dream home.

In the end, regardless of style or process, beautiful, thoughtful homes inspire me, with much to learn from so many architectural pioneers (past and present) as I humbly try to add a little to that landscape, one house at a time.

Olsen Kundig, Sawmill Canyon Retreat

Olsen Kundig, Studhorse

Tea2 Architects, Sonoran Modern

Aidlin Darling Design, High Desert Retreat

Marre Design Group, Lienweber + Lenstra Residence

A Sudden Flash of Inspiration

Fri, 08 May 2020 02:54:00 GMT

Oh, there’s nothing quite like being right in the middle of a new design! There’s something almost romantic in it to me. I play music, louder than I should… a tradition that started in university when I’d slip on headphones, press play on a portable CD player and the whole architecture studio and all its accompanying distractions would seem to just fade away, my whole world reduced to just me, my 5’ x 4’ VYCO covered drawing table and lamp, and a few rolls of canary-colored tracing paper. The music selection today varies, but it typically still falls somewhere in the punk rock range, as it did back then. In university I was probably a bit more reserved in my madness, though. Today midway through a design you’ll inevitably find a veritable barrage of crumpled up and absently discarded wads of paper all around me, using one layer of trace at a time to scribble down ideas in a cloud of graphite, if not a favorite Staedtler 0.3 pigment liner, as I hone in on what will ultimately be proposed to a client.

Sometimes that flash of inspiration strikes at a coffee shop as a colleague and I banter over partially finished sketches at our usual corner table. We have a few favorite spots where we can literally spend hours lost in a design vignette. I'll tell you, I do love those hot-chocolate-infused, out of the office work sessions! More than once, after weeks of making seemingly no progress, I’ve sat up suddenly in bed at 2 am, run down to my little home office in an undeveloped corner of the basement and within ten frantic minutes scribbled on paper an entire house plan, exterior sketches and all. But most times it comes one crumpled piece of tracing paper at a time, with each getting more and more refined until suddenly comes the awaited “a-ha” moment when I finally realize what’s been missing or what’s there that shouldn’t be. It’s a wacky and wonderful part of the job, and I couldn’t love it more. Like that one great golf shot that comes perfectly off the face of the club and you feel it before you even see that beautiful ball flying perfectly down the fairway. The dozens of bad shots quickly disappear from memory and all that comes to mind is that you love golf again with just that one glorious shot. Exactly how or when each design finally comes together varies, but one thing is always certain: nothing gets presented to the client until that sudden flash of inspiration strikes.

I’ll be honest here, and admit that I drive people in the office a little crazy with my propensity to delve right into the minutia or talk about fine-tuning a finishing detail when we’re supposed to be looking at an overarching early schematic of a loose line drawing. But those moments are when the work starts to come alive in my mind. It’s then that I start to actually see it, right there in front of me. Consequently, often a very specific interior view is thought out even as the first floor plans and elevations have only begun to take shape. It’s funny to think, but after all these years, and after literally hundreds of homes, at those moments I still can’t seem to suppress a smile. It’s a little oddity of mine, I know… but I can’t help myself but to geek out a little, whether driving an employee nuts or not.

However, few clients ever actually get to see those dozens of hand-drawn iterations and renderings, because my design process is a little different than virtually any other firms’. For that reason Marre Design’s website focuses almost exclusively on our process , which I’ll grant you is equally unusual when virtually all others showcase pretty pictures first and foremost. Maybe someday I’ll change that, but for now it’s not my intension to rehash the same information again here. The purpose of this post was simply to offer a little glimpse behind the curtain, so to speak. But of our difference in design process, I’ll only say this: to save our busy clients' valuable time, I normally exclude them from much of that journey. The first time most see a new design pitch, all the bits of paper have been carefully filed away, the proposed plans have been fully vetted, and then produced in 3D on the computer, with shadows accurately portrayed and all. It’s purposefully offered in a way that someone perhaps less acquainted with design can still easily understand and relate to. But if we’ve done our job well, and I try awfully hard to ensure we have, all of the emotion we’ve felt along the way shines through the painstakingly prepared presentation drawings.

I say that clients aren’t included in that process, but in reality that’s not precisely true. Every new project begins with a long preliminary meeting where I glean as much as I can about them . Some seem to know exactly what they want in their new home, but most don’t. Many have at least saved some inspiration photos, but some haven’t done even that. Some couples completely agree on every detail—or more often one really cares only about certain areas, and not at all about others—while others need a little help to get on the same page. Nonetheless, in every case, we talk about the specifically required spaces, while at the same time I especially focus on their family, work, lifestyle, values, goals, personality, taste, preferred style, and even budget. Pages and pages of nearly illegible notes are quickly taken as the discussion meanders along. Each is different; each unique. On top of that, before pen ever finds paper, we rigorously research municipal codes and architectural guidelines, we study topographical surveys, block plans and even google maps, and carefully consider any views, features and natural light. We'll investigate what's great about a selected style, see what we can learn from the past, and where we can push it today. As the home continues to come alive, fastidious research continues to support it. Together with that needed information, I pour over the notes taken during that first meeting countless times as the design progresses, specifically thinking about an individual client's needs with literally every single crumpled up page.

We make every effort to ensure that what will be proposed will not only be beautiful and meaningful architecture, but that it will at the same time function perfectly for them as well. So really, in that way, our clients are very much included in the design process; in fact, they’re crucial to it.

Every picture has a story, and each brings back so many memories of thoughts during the design process. One of the things I loved about this home was the private park that they built on their land, just outside these Dining Room doors. It had a full-size play structure complete with swings, a sandbox , firepit, and a grassy area to play with the family. They even named their little park, shown on a wooden sign off the driveway. The park is only steps away from the oversized and completely screened in front porch, just on the other side of the four bi-pocketing sliding doors. And their private park didn't even have to close for self-quarantine!

I always loved the Entry of this little jewel box inner city home. Layering, as done here, can be so effective to create depth, interest and views throughout a home. But this picture is especially fun to me because hidden in the white paneling just ahead of either side of the pocketing Library doors are invisible closets. With just a push in the right spot, the panels open up two full-depth closets. But I assure you, even up close, if you didn't know the secret compartments were there, you would never know. Fun, right?!

I think this master bathroom turned out well, or at least I was happy with it, but I especially loved the view out the windows. You can't tell in this image, which is sort of the point, but the master bedroom, bathroom, and closet are all built completely into the third floor attic roof, with windows like this one built into small dormers. The view out the window looked not only above all the neighboring houses, but over the entire city to the Rocky Mountains beyond. I found it truly breathtaking, and the location of the window ensured complete privacy inside.

This was my test house. This house, under construction in the photo, but about 15 years old now, was the first house where I tested my design process; I presented them with a fully finished and developed design, only weeks after our first meeting. They weren't expecting that level of detail, since I'd never really done it to that extent before. But they were blown away! They absolutely loved it, and ended up not making a single change to the proposed home. It was after this project that I knew that my unique process had a place. In reality, I don't ever expect my first pitch to actually be what gets built, as it was in this case; it's just a way for me to talk about something "real" with my client to really come to understand their needs. But I admit, this home has not been the only time our original concept was accepted, with just some fine-tuning needed to make it just right.

This image is on my website, and I grudgingly admit that it perhaps shouldn't be, as was opined by the team when I selected it. It's a very small cottage on the prairies, and it's still under construction in the image. But I just always loved it. My client, then approaching retirement, had grown up on this land, the original homestead nearby. She played as a little girl in this little grove of trees that had space in them where she had her very own little "secret garden". They wanted the house to feel like it was something out of a storybook, and we tried to do just that. Directly behind the largely glass back elevation, and steps away from the back patio, there was a truly mesmerizing little stream, with water gurgling over the smooth stones. The stone selected for the exterior (though obviously not installed yet in this photo) was chosen to match, making the guest cottage feel as if it blended right into the landscape, like it had always been there. So even though it's an odd image to include on my website, it's not one of my large luxury homes, but there's a story in it. And I love that.

The "Doctor Phil" of Design

Fri, 01 May 2020 02:48:00 GMT

After nearly 20 years, there’s still so much that I miss about living in Montreal. With so many parks, festivals, markets, culture, diversity, and awe-inspiring architecture, it’s a comparatively trivial thing to miss... but I also really loved the done-by-hand car washes! We lived in a drafty little 100 year old brick and timber townhome in the Plateau-Mont-Royal, a decidedly French speaking part of town. I speak French fairly fluently, or used to at least, and so I thought that perhaps living in the francophone side of the city would be a fun opportunity for my wife to learn the language as well. And while she did learn a little, she mostly spent the two years not talking to anyone and generally being annoyed with me. A little unknowing early prep for life in self-isolation! We were young and poor, but happy, and we loved our life there.

I worked in a small architecture firm on Rue Saint-Denis, right in the heart of the truly amazing Latin Quartier. I spent a lot of my time at Les Architectes Tremblay et Associés designing small one-off restaurants. I love residential work because it’s so personal, but I have to admit, working with someone who is seemingly putting everything into their restaurant can be pretty intimate, as well. At a private soft-opening for a fantastic little Latino restaurant I worked on, the couple had their Catholic priest attend to bless their new endeavor; immediately following which, he walked over to us and blessed the architects! I was fairly new to designing restaurants, so perhaps having a priest bless the architect is standard practice. But anyway, it certainly seemed personal to me!

It was an enthusiastic home builder who lured me back home to Calgary from Montreal. I’d designed a few homes in a nearby neighborhood that had received a little attention, so when his company was selected to be part of a builder-group in a new subdivision, he sought me out. My firm was hired originally to provide a small selection of stock plans to sell out of a “show home” that I was to design, competing against four other well-established tract builders in a relatively budget-conscious new suburb. When the five designs were complete I expected to go back out East. However, at dinner one evening the builder and I discussed an idea—an experiment really—of offering fully custom designed homes to every client in what would be an otherwise cookie-cutter community.

Consumers in that market segment had clearly come to accept the word “custom” in the building industry as amounting to little more than choosing between certain selections or adjusting the offered layout with pre-planned alternative configurations. And honestly, I understand why. But instead, we started every design from scratch, specifically suiting each to a family’s individual lifestyles, values, and needs. Obviously not a novel idea in the luxury home market where I do most of my work today, but unheard of in more "starter" neighborhoods like this one was. As a result, the builder sold—and I designed—42 homes that year, exhausting the builder’s lot inventory significantly ahead of any of the competition in the parade of model homes... in fact, before some had sold anything . And, so, I never made it back to Montreal.

Our experiment confirmed what I believed; that people truly craved a higher level of personalization in their homes, their most intimate spaces. Even if it meant sacrificing a little square footage to make up for the extra cost of custom construction. I truly believe that design matters. Good, well thought out and well resolved design can inspire. It can strengthen communities, and on an individual level can create warmth, comfort, and even foster peace. It’s not surprising that Sarah Susanka’s “ Not So Big House ” book series was so popular when it was published in 2001. It highlights design principals such as proportions of space, layering or framing views, use of light and shadow, coupled with attention to detail; principles that are universal and irrespective of house size.

I found in those couple of years that with some careful planning, smaller spaces could be remarkably effective, and still even offer architectural interest. I had extremely happy clients who loved their homes. After working together, one of them introduced me to her friend as "the Doctor Phil of Design". I’m not sure how to take that exactly; her tone seemed to indicate that she meant it as a huge compliment! Well, in fairness to Doctor Phil, I've definitely had an experience or two when helping a couple agree on the design direction required a bit of "counseling" in our design meetings!

I love to take advantage of sunlight and views to the exterior. Blurring the lines between interior and exterior space can be so satisfying! But in reality, many people arrange furniture towards an interior focal point, rather than only out the windows. In any case, though, it makes such a difference to the feeling of a space when someone has actually considered and planned what is at the end of an interior view (down a hallway, through an opening, or from room to room). Specifically crafted and placed details can change an ordinary space into something truly special. The outcome is felt in those times when you were in a space that just felt great, or warm, inviting, cozy, peaceful, or even inspiring, but you couldn’t say exactly why. It was the culmination of careful, thoughtful design.

Although the majority of my work since then has been on considerably larger or "higher-end" luxury homes, much of what makes Marre Design Group so unique today began with those 42 “not so big” homes designed almost 20 years ago. It really helped to shape my practice early on and allowed me to fine-tune my distinctive design process . On each new project today, I still try to ensure that every single square foot of the home (regardless of how many square feet that may be) is meaningful to my clients, with its details well resolved and planned, and with space that is purposeful and thoughtfully used.

This was a fun bunk room for when my client's grandchildren would visit. Each bed had its own light and a little recess on the back wall with a USB charging station hidden on its side. The rods were to be able to create forts, and we hid little doors in the shiplap on the back wall that led to a secret passageway (a playroom) between the bunks. If you think making the beds would be a nightmare, you're likely right... but the railings unlock and mattresses pull out to make it a little easier!

This picture is another from a project that has been published a number of times. It can be really fun to create little details in what would otherwise be dead space; ,in nooks, attics, and (in this case) under the stairs.

We called this a "pocket office". It opened off of the Kitchen and so we tried to ensure it could stay tidy. It was a small but ,comfortable workspace for homework, but incredibly functional, with provision for a hidden printer, corkboard backsplash, mail storage tucked away, and even charging stations. But on top of that, we tried to make it still look pretty!

This was a little country home in the woods that I loved. We tried to turn this ,little hallway between the Mudroom and Entry, what would have been a frequently used but otherwise utilitarian space, into something more special. Views through it in either direction had an interesting end view, and the large window connected the interior and exterior spaces (something that was done extensively in this home). ,Little things made a big difference; the shiplap ceiling continued from the exterior on the same plane. The boards are exactly centered in the ceiling, with the light exactly centered on the boards.

Well, I can't really believe it, but this week I passed 4,000 views on this blog site. Thank you so much (again) to anyone who's been reading any of these little posts. If you're willing, I'd really love some feedback from you... since I've never done this before now. What do you like so far (if anything), what don't you like, how can I improve, or especially , let me know if there's any topic you would like to see in future posts. Thanks!!

A "Trendy" House

Sat, 25 Apr 2020 02:20:00 GMT

I’ve never written a blog before these past few posts… clearly. And truth be told, I have a flash of self-consciousness every time I hover the mouse over that intimidating “publish” button, hesitating for a moment each time before clicking it. After that, it’s instantly out there for the world to see with no turning back. Well, here we go; I’m going to click it again!

Perhaps one of the curses of being self-employed—made worse because I genuinely do love what I do—is that my cell phone is virtually never off. And so it was, that while visiting my dad in an Edmonton hospital’s critical care unit, I nonetheless answered a call whose call ID showed as originating from Bermuda. I quietly stepped out of the ICU; he was resting anyway. The call was from someone who supposedly wanted me to design a home for them. At that time in my career, I had done a few out of town projects, but it certainly wasn't a regular occurrence for me… so I was immediately skeptical about the caller and tried to keep them on the line, if only long enough to figure out if it was a telemarketer or a scam artist of some variety. Doubtful or not, even worried and in the hospital, I couldn’t quite bring myself to brush them off, just in case the potential project was legitimate. I'm so glad I didn't! Although living in Bermuda at that time, this improbable patron would soon return to Calgary with hopes of having a new home built for their growing young family, complete with squash courts and climbing walls.

Getting to spend a week with your wife in a tropical paradise in the middle of the Atlantic, is not a bad work week at all! I essentially make most of my living drawing pretty pictures, albeit incredibly comprehensive ones, which I'll grant you is a pretty good gig all on its own. But I don’t think my wife has ever liked the idea of traveling for a client meeting more than she did for that client, that week. The island is absolutely breathtaking. But more importantly to me, I truly enjoyed working closely with them on their dream home, and just as much back in Calgary as in Bermuda.

One of the properties I helped this enjoyable expatriated couple develop, once they were settled back in Canada, was for a skinny house on a narrow lot in Calgary’s innercity. It was such a fun project to work on, having been given nearly carte-blanche in the planning. Everything was custom designed, right down to the crown molding profile. Together with my friend Krista, the tremendously talented founder of Krista Hermanson Design (an interior design firm in Calgary), the finishing touches came together so seamlessly. It was a little three-story jewel box and was my first project to “trend” online, its photo being saved to Ideabooks over 10,000 times over the next couple of years on Houzz.com . I’ve designed other projects since that have become new favorites, as generally happens when I put so much of myself into each. And over the years I’ve drawn many luxury homes, with significantly more square footage than this one. But none since have been as frequently published, nor have attracted quite the same attention, even being used in an international advertisement for Kolbe Windows and Doors, and then again as the cover for one of their catalogs . It’s not my only project that Kolbe has used in its media over the years, but it was the first. And firsts always have a special place in one's heart.

The home’s popularity was also the catalyst behind my being selected to host a TV show for HGTV that was supposed to focus on the trend of building “skinny homes” across North America, as developers in dense urban environments recycle valuable land. The show was ultimately not picked up by the network, but it was incredibly fun auditioning with Leftfield Pictures from New York City. Until then, I'd certainly never signed an Exclusivity Agreement, tentatively as the "talent", even though my Los Angeles townhouse was about a block from Disney Studios on Buena Vista Street, and two blocks from the Burbank Studios where Friends was being filmed at the time. Well, in honesty I’m probably more suited for radio (or blog writing) than TV anyway!

My firm really doesn’t sell ”stock plans" of our homes, but we’ve had people inquire about rebuilding this house in cities all across Canada and the US. That said, we have agreed on occasion to provide new home designs for homes based on it; once per city in Calgary, Winnipeg, Atlanta, New York, and New Orleans. The iteration in Atlanta was particularly fun; that client actually bribed me with cookies to do the project for her! And when the job finished, she made good on the deal. Freshly baked cookies arrived in the mail as promised, through customs and all, from Atlanta to Calgary (although they were perhaps a little less fresh by the time they made it to my doorstep a month later). Without exaggerating, I’ve surely had a hundred people ask for copies of the floor plans of this "trendy" house, so, what the heck… I’ll include them below, right in this little blog.

After all, the only person who can get mad at me for sharing them is me , and I won’t tell on myself. ; )

Thanks again for passing some of y our self-isolation time with me! The fact that nearly 3,000 people have happened upon my little blog site this week, probably means that there are a lot of pretty bored people out there! But either way, I love responding to the questions and comments I've been sent! So please keep reaching out and sharing! #wereallinthistogether

Opening in SF: Part 2 - The First Project

Tue, 21 Apr 2020 13:54:00 GMT

Choosing exactly where to open a second office isn’t easy, affinity for California or no. It’s a big investment, and not without risk. But actually opening that office is harder still! Let me tell you this: self-isolation and borders being closed isn't helping at all right now!

Since so many have asked how I came to have an office in San Francisco, I thought I’d tell you a little about it. Though Part 2 of this post should probably have another “don’t try this” disclaimer! It took well over a year before I got my first project, which is in Hillsborough, California, a town I’ve come to absolutely love. But I’m getting ahead of myself…

For six months one of my staff was dedicated solely to research. He found census and building reports, and any other remotely relevant information to be found online, and compiled data for city after city, noting socio-economic conditions, average ages, number and value of building permits in each, and so on. I’ve been lucky to have done home designs across Canada and in the US, so at first I thought that perhaps a city I’d already worked in might be the best place to start; after all, I already had some presence there, even if limited. To help refine the early research, I used Google Analytics to see what parts of the country gained the most traffic on my firm’s website. I also got some great insight from someone at Houzz.com helped identify where people were from who had been saving my photos to their “Ideabooks.” Slowly we narrowed the search until after so many months it came down to three potential cities: New York, Austin, or San Francisco.

Even if I didn’t have California in mind from the onset, which admittedly I did, San Francisco would have been my first choice of the three anyway, if only because it’s a quick direct flight from Calgary. I absolutely love New York--I spent a wonderful week in Manhatten and Brooklyn researching brownstones--but the travel is more than twice as long. I’d never really been to San Francisco before, nor had I had a project there yet, so, before making the final decision, internet research alone wasn’t going to be enough. I needed boots on the ground.

Because of the preliminary analysis done, I had pre-selected a number of cities in the Bay Area, mostly on the Peninsula, that seemed to have a lot of new construction. I think my colleague and I probably drove up and down every single street! I hope this doesn’t get me into trouble, but we may have stopped the car at nearly every home under construction where we could find an open gate. We did get some odd looks, but it’s amazing how infrequently we were questioned when we’d walk onto an active job site pretending we were supposed to be there.

One general contractor in Atherton, CA, though, wasn’t going to have it. He was ready to kick us off his jobsite at first sight of us walking up the driveway. Before I complied, I noticed there was an unusual detail in the framing, a construction method I would never have done. So, I asked him if he’d at least explain why they’d built the detail the way they had. Then I would go. It was perhaps inspired, as it turned out the builder thought that little detail was particularly odd as well, and he seemed quite pleased that I’d pointed it out specifically. It led to a nearly two-hour conversation that day, and has turned into one of my favorite friendships I've made down there. Even if with him I've had some of the worst golf rounds of my life, and I'm pretty sure he's embarrassed to golf with me now!

As much as I loved Los Angeles, I fell in love with San Francisco every bit as quickly, and made up my mind about opening an office there before the end of the first trip. Maybe before the end of the first day. For the six months that followed, I flew back and forth regularly. I might dream big, but I also strongly believe in due-diligence. I really like actually knowing what I’m talking about before I open my mouth to speak! So each month I would visit job sites to study what (if anything) was built differently than at home. I studied local codes, development procedures, and met with many general contractors, realtors, city planners, engineers, and even other architecture firms gracious enough to spend time with me. I gained such valuable insight from each meeting for best practices in the Bay Area.

After about a year into this investigation, I think my good wife, who’s normally quite patient with my propensity to dream, started to question the cost vs. benefit of all this. Regardless if I felt strongly about being there, proof would be in actually finding a first client. After three months of advertising online, and reaching out to every contact I’d ever made the previous year, I still had no success. I started to feel like I was on the little train platform again, and it was time to jump off. So much time and effort; I wanted so badly for it to bear fruit.

Yet by Christmas that year, I’d all but told myself that I was done with it. Well, I definitely told myself that... but I didn’t listen. Instead, I reached out to each Bay Area builder one last time. If only to wish them a Merry Christmas...

It's been a few years now, but I will never forget the look on my wife’s face when I took her out for dinner, waiting until then to tell her that the same builder who’d nearly kicked me off his jobsite was the very one who would introduce me to my first client in the Bay Area. She tried her best, and failed, to hold back a tear after being understandably stressed for over a year with my relentless investment. She was supportive and kind to me, but to her, I think pursuing an office in California was every bit as reckless as running away on a train had been!

The first project was a somewhat modern take on a French Provincial home, a style so admired when I lived in France years before. I know that I've said previously that every time I design a new home, it becomes my favorite at the time, and that’s true. But still, this Hillsborough home truly was special to me. I put so much of myself into my designs… and so now there’s a little part of me that will be in California forever, built with full bed limestone and mullioned glass.

Opening in SF: Part 1 - Jumping Off a Train?!

Sun, 19 Apr 2020 02:21:00 GMT

I get asked all the time how my little boutique residential design firm from Calgary, Alberta ended up opening an office in the San Francisco Bay Area. Before I answer that, I thought it would be fun to share a very un-architectural (and kind of embarrassing) story, for a little background and context.

In late spring, when I was 15 years old, I ran away from home. Which is much crazier to think about now that I have a son who recently turned 15… Yikes, he's still so little! For about as long as I can remember, I dreamed of going to California, so a friend and I came up with a plan to get there. It seemed simple enough; we’d just take a train!

Before I go on, I have to say to anyone reading this, please don’t ever try any of what I’m about to describe! In the tiny town of Armstrong, BC, where I grew up, a train used to come through town at about 10:30pm every night. Perhaps it still does. It slowed enough as it passed by that we were able to sprint alongside, grab the ladder, jump with all our might, and pull ourselves up top. Just like the movies!

For the first minute or so we felt just like James Bond, running along the top of the train, and even jumping, albeit more tentatively than 00-7, from one car to the next. But only for a minute or so. I now know from personal experience that as a train picks up speed there is a shocking amount of movement on top, swaying dramatically from side to side and bumping along unexpectedly. And the wind gets so strong that jumping into it with an expectation of any forward momentum becomes very literally impossible for a kid barely over 100lbs. After perhaps a mile aboard, it became all but futile to so much as walk upright, let alone jump from car to car. Another mile and, on hands and shaking knees now, I started to secretly wonder about the wisdom of what we’d gotten ourselves into, quickly realizing that the thrill of riding on top of a train, twisting through the Rocky Mountains at speeds of up to 60mph (97km/h) on the Class 4 track, isn’t well portrayed in Hollywood. In fact, it’s not “just like the movies” at all.

Tip one: Tunnels are terrifying. Lying flat on your back in absolute darkness, you can’t tell at all how much space there is between the tip of your nose and the ceiling beams hurtling past, directly above. But they sounded very close indeed, and that sound became all-encompassing. The ghastly swish-swishing , almost deafening to our heightened senses. For what seemed like forever we didn’t dare so much as flinch, as color drained from faces and we silently prayed to God not to get swept off the top by the next one.

Tip two: Late spring in southern British Columbia is truly stunning, with beautiful blue skies, flowers in full bloom and daily high temperatures approaching 70 degrees (21 Celsius). But, in the middle of the night, the lows still can drop below 40 (4 Celsius). We hadn’t taken that into consideration, with the selection of our light spring jackets and baggy shorts. The added adrenaline alone did not adequately offset the 60mph induced wind chill for long. Finding some shelter between the cars, with the railroad ties rushing past in unforgiving view, is no less nerve-racking. So, with freezing fingers nearly devoid of feeling, we painstakingly made our way down and then quickly back up the ladders, slowing creeping our way back to a lumber car we'd spotted with a little depression to hide in. Hopefully my friend doesn't ever find this blog, because we vowed to never speak of this… but between those rows of 2x4's we may have... well, cuddled. For warmth. But just a little.

After a few hours, the train eventually did start to slow somewhat as we approached a large city. Ahead we could see the train yard lit up, it seemed to us, like noonday sun. And we both could swear to see railroad police waiting for us to get there. Someone must have seen us! Or so we thought, at least. If we knew one thing for certain, though, it was this: we did not want to get caught by railroad police! In a flash, freezing fingers were all but forgotten. The mere sight of that bright train yard was suddenly more frightening to us than even the tunnels had been. If we hadn’t realized it already, it became painfully obvious now that we were not going to make it to California on top of a train. We had to jump, and we had to do it well in advance of reaching that menacing yard. Which meant that the train would still be moving. And quickly at that!

Tip three: Jumping from a moving train is also not as depicted in cinema. First of all, train tracks don’t generally get laid on top of nice soft grass. That would have been so much better! No, instead of grass, railroad ties are laid on crushed granite, trap rock, or limestone. And it’s jagged, not smooth or forgiving. Not at all. After first throwing our backpacks, we jumped for our lives out into the darkness. Another important lesson came here; albeit a lesson I've never needed to draw on since. Moving your legs and arms in the air in a sprinting motion as fast as you can, so that you can hit the ground already running, surprisingly, does nothing. The very instant sneakers made contact with ground, they seemed ripped out from under us, causing us to bounce uncontrollably down a small embankment away from the tracks like a couple of rag dolls. I don’t know how fast that train was still moving when our feet left the small metal platform between those cars, but whatever the speed, my friend’s momentum was abruptly stopped by an unforgiving fir tree, and mine by a prickle bush that I will not soon forget. It was no less comforting than the tree, let me assure you. Thus my first attempt to alight in California came rather abruptly to a bumpy end, with my ego as bruised as my body, and my unbelievably patient dad rescuing two sheepish vagrants in Vancouver.

It would take six more years before I'd finally make it. I eventually went to university in Los Angeles… but this time I drove there. In the middle of the night, somewhere around Idaho, I hit and killed the biggest rabbit I’d ever seen in my life. It was seriously the size of a coyote. Elmer Fudd would have been so proud! However, that early morning mishap notwithstanding, the trip was still decidedly less dangerous than the attempted train travel. Still, I have to say, after all those years it was just as I’d hoped… I truly loved living in LA.

So, 20 years later now, it shouldn’t be too surprising to any reader who's made it so far into this little blog, that when I decided to open a second office it would be in California. I mean, where else?

To be continued…

Remodeling My Day Dreams

Thu, 16 Apr 2020 02:05:00 GMT

Well, we're all still at home… so, who else has been starting to go a little nutty, stuck in quarantine, and has started daydreaming of what they'd want to change?? Has anyone else imagined renovations? Just new paint, or walls being removed in your mind? Oh, perhaps removing ALL the walls? Oh, I can see that it might be time for me to go outside for a bit!

I was mostly joking about removing all the walls, but back in 1949 Philip Johnson designed his famous "Glass House" in New Canaan, Connecticut where he basically did just that. He designed this house for himself... maybe he'd been self-isolating for too long before he started the design.

Here's another fun project. It was built in 2009, designed by Swatt Miers from San Francisco, called the Tea Houses. Like Johnson's Glass House, they also replaced most of the exterior walls with glass, much of which opens completely on the back. Love it!

Well, anyway, I would keep more walls than these houses, but I've been wanting to change my house for years now, way before we started self-isolating. And being here all day, every day, isn't helping!

I designed my house 16 years ago. It’s hard to believe it’s been so long! I pretended that my wife was a client; I interviewed her and designed the home specifically for her, like I do for all my clients. She admittedly didn’t take the initial design interview as seriously as I tried to make it, but fortunately I know her pretty well and was able to fill in the gaps. The result was that she absolutely loves our little home, and even though I’ve designed so many houses that have been so much fun, each one my new favorite at the time, I can’t convince her to move from her little custom home. Oh, I would have so much fun designing something new for us, but I love her much more than I’d love to move, so what can I do? Shelter in place for the long term, I guess!

Since I’m staying, if I were to renovate only one part of the house, it would surely be the kitchen. It’s not a particularly large space, but I’ve learned a few tricks over the years to really take advantage of even smaller spaces so that they not only look beautiful, but that they function really well, too. And if that’s where I’d start on my own house, it’s not surprising that a number of questions I received after my first blog were to do with kitchens.

Given today’s lifestyle, the kitchen tends to be the most important space in the home for most people. It’s not only the area for cooking and cleaning, but it tends to become a gathering place for family and friends when entertaining. Before the days of online schooling for the kids, homework was often done in the Kitchen (or the adjacent Breakfast Nook). Even for people who don’t like to cook, the kitchen is often still a major showpiece. It’s the heart of the home.

I had a few questions this week about colors for the kitchen cabinets. Refinishing the cabinets can be a pretty cost-effective way to bring a well-loved kitchen back to life, and it can have a dramatic impact on the feeling of the space. Kitchens in most of the houses I design typically cost well over $1,000 per foot for cabinets, some have been closer to double that even, but even on a tighter budget replacing cabinets with something like IKEA can still pretty quickly cost over $500 per lineal foot by the time you add the cost of countertops and installation. Cabinetry is typically among the most costly parts of any project, regardless of budget. Whereas a really good quality painter could refinish a painted cabinet for as little as $100 per lineal foot. And a good painter can be a magician!

I’m admittedly not an expert on colors for kitchen cabinets, although I certainly have my opinions. A few times over the years I have taken finished photos in black and white to hide the colors that someone chose. But fortunately that’s pretty uncommon! I work with some amazing interior designers that have helped clients use my design as a canvas to finish creating really beautiful works of art. My focus is generally on the overall look of the kitchen, its design, layout, storage, and function, it’s lighting, views in and out, and how it relates to (and flows with) the rest of the home. If those things aren’t carefully considered and planned, final colors and fixtures alone aren’t likely to save it.

I’ll always remember a project I did in university a number of years ago. I’d spent countless hours agonizing over every detail on a rendering for a building I’d designed. Classmates made a big deal about it, considering it to be the best of the class… so many so that it probably went to my head a little. So I was genuinely surprised when I didn’t receive the top marks for it that I’d become convinced I deserved. After some grumbling to myself, I finally decided to approach the professor to question him as to why my grade hadn’t been better, and to see what more he was looking for from me. His reply has consistently influenced how I think of design ever since.

"Tom," he said, "if you walked down the street and found a piece of dog [excrement]," (I'm editing here to keep my blog G-rated), "and if you did an absolutely perfect rendering of it… at the end of the day, it's still just a piece of [excrement]". He agreed that my drawing was probably the best rendering in the class. But that it really didn't matter if the actual design was bad.

On the homes I design, of course I want the finished product to be beautiful. But I foremost want to ensure that its very design assures proper function, that square footage is properly used and materials aren’t wasted. I want my designs to be more than just a “perfect rendering”.

That said, since color was on my mind this week, I’ve attached some photos of some kitchens from both my past work and from other architecture firms that I love. Hope you enjoy!

If you have any comments or questions about your home (current or future), don't hesitate to let me know!

South Calgary Gem, by Marre Design Group

Excelsior Bayside Cottage, by Tea2 Architects

Minnetonka Single Style, by Tea2 Architects

Downsview Kitchens, Design by Design Galleria

Bridgeland Jewel Box, Marre Design Group