Forms and Functions of Twentieth-Century Architecture Volume III Building Types 9780231882453

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Table of contents :
Acknowledgments
Contents
Illustrations
Part I. Buildings for Residence
Introduction
Contributors
1. The Individual House
2. The Apartment House
3. Hotels and Apartment Hotels
4. Camps and Dormitories
5. Problems of Mass Shelter
6. Layout of Residential Communities
7. Rural Architecture and Farm Planning
Part II. Buildings for Popular Gatherings
Introduction
Contributors
8. Acoustics
9. Catholic Churches
10. Protestant Churches
11. Synagogues
12. Theaters
13. Motion-Picture Theaters
14. Auditoriums
15. Monuments and Memorials
Part III. Buildings for Education
Introduction
Contributors
16. Day Schools
17. Boarding Schools
18. Colleges and Universities
19. Libraries
20. Museums
Part IV. Government Buildings
Introduction
Contributors
21. Capitols and Legislative Buildings
22. Town and City Halls
23. Courthouses
24. Correctional Institutions
25. Governmental Office Buildings
26. Post Offices and Customs Houses
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FORMS and FUNCTIONS of TWENTIETH-CENTURY ARCHITECTURE IN FOUR VOLUMES V O L U M E III

Building Types BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE, FOR POPULAR GATHERINGS, FOR EDUCATION, AND FOR GOVERNMENT

FORMS and FUNCTIONS of TWENTIETH-CENTURY ARCHITECTURE Edited by TALBOT HAMLIN, F.A.I.A. With an Introduction by Leopold Arnaud, FA.I.A.

VOLUME III

Building Types BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE, FOR POPULAR GATHERINGS, FOR EDUCATION, AND FOR GOVERNMENT BY A SELECTED LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS

Prepared under the auspices of the School of Architecture of Columbia University New York COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS 1952

COPYRIGHT I 9 5 2 BY COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS, NEW YORK PUBLISHED IN GREAT BRITAIN, CANADA, AND INDIA B Y GEOFFREY CUMBERLEGE, OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS LONDON, TORONTO, AND BOMBAY MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Acknowledgments

F

OR AID in the illustration of this volume the editor wishes to make grateful acknowledgment to:

The United Nations Planning Office, the United States Department of Agriculture, the Bureau of Prisons of the Department of Justice, the United States Post Office Department and the Treasury Department, and the Library of the Federal Public Housing Authority; The American-Swedish News Exchange, the British Information Services, and the Netherlands Information Bureau; The Housing Authorities of Chicago, New York, and San Francisco; The American Museum of Natural History, the Library of Congress, the Liturgical Arts Society, the Museum of Modern Art in New York, the New Bedford Public Library, the Newport (Rhode Island) Historical Society, the New-York Historical Society, and St. Thomas's Church and Trinity Church, both in New York; Many corporations, architects, and photographers who have furnished illustrations or permitted them to be used, the detailed credits for which will be found in the List of Illustrations; And, especially, the contributors, whose co-operative spirit and technical knowledge have made this volume possible.

Contents

PART I: BUILDINGS

FOR

RESIDENCE

1.

THE INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

GEORGE NELSON

7

2.

THE APARTMENT HOUSE

JOSEPH HENRY ABEL

3.

HOTELS AND APARTMENT HOTELS

4.

CAMPS AND DORMITORIES

50

JOHN WELLBORN ROOT

ANTONIN

RAYMOND

AND HERMANN

FIELD

H. 131

5.

PROBLEMS OF MASS SHELTER

6.

LAYOUT OF RESIDENTIAL COMMUNITIES

7.

RURAL ARCHITECTURE AND FARM PLANNING

PART

96

II: BUILDINGS

8.

ACOUSTICS

VESPER A.

9.

CATHOLIC CHURCHES

HENRY

FOR

S. CHURCHILL J. MARSHALL MILLER J. ROBERT DODGE

POPULAR

SCHLENKER

PROTESTANT CHURCHES

WALTER A.

11.

SYNAGOGUES

12.

THEATERS

13.

MOTION-PICTURE THEATERS

14.

AUDITORIUMS

15.

MONUMENTS AND MEMORIALS

TAYLOR

MAX ABRAMOVITZ

220

GATHERINGS

298 322 365

LEE STMONSON AND THE EDITOR BEN SCHLANGER

ARTHUR LOOMIS

193

269

MAURICE LAVANOUX

10.

165

396 445

HARMON

478

JEAN LABATUT

521

CONTENTS

V1U

PART III: BUILDINGS

FOR

EDUCATION

Lawrence B. Perkins

16.

DAY SCHOOLS

541

17.

BOARDING SCHOOLS

18.

COLLEGES AND UNIVERSITIES

19.

LIBRARIES

Alfred Morton Githens

675

20.

MUSEUMS

Robert B. O'Connor

716

DOUGLAS HASKELL

599

JOHN C. B. MOOTE

PART IV: GOVERNMENT

62}

BUILDINGS

21.

CAPITOLS AND LEGISLATIVE BUILDINGS

22.

TOWN AND CITY HALLS

2}.

COURTHOUSES

24.

CORRECTIONAL INSTITUTIONS

25.

GOVERNMENTAL OFFICE BUILDINGS

WILLIAW GEHRON

879

26.

POST OFFICES AND CUSTOMS HOUSES

Gilbert Stanley Underwood

909

M.

LORIMER RICH

ERNEST J.KUMP

EDWIN

GREEN

757 782 814

CLARENCE B. LITCHFIELD

851

Illustrations

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15.

House of the Early Classic Revival, Wickford, Rhode Island. Photograph Talbot Hamlin A Victorian House Design. From G. B. Croff, Progressive American Architecture . . . (New York: Orange Judd Co., 1875) An Open Victorian Plan. From A. W. Brunner (editor), Cottages or Hints on Economical Building . . . (New York: Comstock, 1884) Part of Queens, New York. Courtesy Daily News A Typical Cape Cod Cottage. From Architectural Forum Summer Cottage, Beverly Farms, Massachusetts. H. H. Richardson, architect. Courtesy Ware Library Bingham House, Santa Barbara, California. Bernard R. Maybeck, architect. Courtesy Jean Murray Bangs Bradley House, Woods Hole, Massachusetts. Exterior and Living Room. Purcell & Elmslie, architects. Courtesy Progressive Architecture Lloyd Lewis House, Libertyville, Illinois. Exterior and Interior of Living-Dining Room. Frank Lloyd Wright, architect. Photographs Hedrich-Blessing, courtesy Architectural Forum Dymaxion House. Under Construction. Buckminster Fuller, designer. Life Photo by Coffey, courtesy Life Primitive Round Houses: Eskimo Igloo, courtesy Smithsonian Institution. Mongolian Yurt, courtesy American Museum of Natural History, New York Savoye House, Poissy-sur-Seine, France. Three Plans. Le Corbusier, architect. From Le Corbusier et Pierre Jeanneret, oeuvre complète, 1925-1935 (Zurich: Girsberger, 1936) Savoye House, Poissy-sur-Seine, France. Exterior and Living Room. Le Corbusier, architect. Courtesy Museum of Modern Art, New York Howard Sloan House, near Chicago, Illinois. Plan. George Fred Keck, architect. From Pencil Points Howard Sloan House, near Chicago, Illinois. Living Room with Conventional Windows and, as Built, with Glass Wall. George Fred Keck, architect. Photographs Hedrich-Blessing

10 11 12 13 14 14 14 15 16 17 18 20 21 21 22

ILLUSTRATIONS

X

16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29.

30.

31. 32. 33.

Tugendhat House, Brno, Czechoslovakia. Plans. Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, architect. From H. R. Hitchcock, Jr., and Philip Johnson, The International Style (New York: Museum of Modern Art, 1931) Koch House, Belmont, Massachusetts. Office. Carl Koch, architect. Photograph Ezra Stoller—Pictorial Services Row House Designed for the Ladies' Home Journal. Plans. Vernon DeMars, architect. Courtesy Ladies' Home Journal Row House Designed for the Ladies' Home Journal. Street and Garden Views. Vernon DeMars, architect. Courtesy Ladies' Home Journal Experimental Bed. Plan, Section, and Elevations. Robert L. Davison and the Pierce Foundation, designers Experimental Bed. Two Views. Robert L. Davison and the Pierce Foundation, designers. Courtesy the Pierce Foundation Storagewall, Showing What It Can Hold. George Nelson and Henry Niccolls Wright, designers. Life Photo, courtesy George Nelson Fairchild House, New York. Plaas. William Hambv and George Nelson, architects Fairchild House, New York. Exterior and Courtyard. William Hamby and George Nelson, architects. Photographs Robert Damora Houses Harmoniously Related, Nantucket, Massachusetts. Photograph Talbot Hamlin A Country House of the Very Wealthy: Biltmore, Asheville, North Carolina. Richard M. Hunt, architect. Courtesy Biltmore, Asheville, North Carolina An In-Line House: Case Study House, Los Angeles, California. Plan. Julius R. Davidson, architect An In-Line House: Case Study House, Los Angeles, California. Exterior. Julius R. Davidson, architect. Photograph Julius Shulman International Similarities in the Modern House: From the David Lloyd George Estate, Churt, Surrey, England; Tecton & Chitty, architects; courtesy Architect and Building News. Lowe House, California; Wurster, Bernardi 8c Emmons, architects; photograph Roger Sturtevant Similarities in the Modern House in Different Climates: House in Toronto, Canada; Gordon Adamson, architect; photograph Rapid Grip and Batten. House in Southern California; Whitney R. Smith, architect; photograph Maynard L. Parker Iroquois Longhouse. From a drawing bv Jesse Cornplanter. Courtesy American Museum of Natural History, New York Pueblo at Walpi, Arizona. Photograph Ewing Gallowav Casa dei Dipinti, an Upper-Class Ancient Roman Apartment House, Ostia, Italy. Plans and Restoration. Plans from Talbot Hamlin, Architecture through the Ages (New York: Putnam's, 1940, 1944); restoration redrawn from Monumenti Antichi

23 24 25 26 30 31 35 39 40 41 42 43 44

46

47 $2 52

53

ILLUSTRATIONS 34.

35. 36. 37.

38.

39.

40. 41.

42.

43. 44. 45.

Typical New York Tenement Plans. From James Ford, Slums and Housing in New York (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1936) Characteristic Parisian Apartment from the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne. Typical-Floor Plan. A. Arfvidson, architect A Typical Paris Apartment House. Courtesy Ware Library T w o Specialized Apartment Houses: Studio Apartment House, Paris, View in a Typical Apartment and Exterior; Ginsberg & Heep, architects; from Arcbitecte. Kollektivhus, Stockholm, Sweden, Exterior; Sven Markelius, architect; courtesy American Swedish News Exchange T w o Specialized Apartment Houses: Studio Apartment House, Paris, Typical-Floor Plan; Ginsberg & Heep, architects; redrawn from Arcbitecte. Kollektivhus, Stockholm, Sweden, Typical Plan; Sven Markelius, architect Typical European Apartment Houses: Ribershus Apartments, Malmö, Sweden, Exterior and Typical Interior; E. S. Persson, architect; courtesy American Swedish News Exchange. Highpoint Apartments, Highgate, London; Lubetkin & Tecton, architects; courtesy Museum of Modern Art, New York The Relationship between Density and Height. From Joseph H. Abel and Fred N. Severud, Apartment Houses, in "Progressive Architecture Library" (New York: Reinhold [0947]) Typical Garden Apartment Plans: Parklane Apartments, Houston, Texas; Talbott Wilson and Irwin Morris, architects; Meyer & Johnson, landscape designers; from Joseph H. Abel and Fred N. Severud, Apartment Houses. Wyvernwood, Los Angeles, California; Wilmer & Watson, architects; Hammond Sandler, landscape architect; from Architectural Record Typical Garden Apartment Exteriors: Prospect Point Gardens, Lake Lefferts, Matawan, New Jersey; F.mil G. Schmidlin, architect. Green Acres, Verona, New Jersey; Emil G. Schmidlin, architect. Photographs Gottscho-Schleisner, courtesy Milton L. Ehrlich. Apartments in Montgomery, Alabama, with Balcony Approach; Pearson & Tittle and Narrows & Hancock, associated architects; photographs Rodney McCav Morgan—Photolog Duplex Apartments for the Los Angeles Region. Perspective and Plan. Gregory Ain, architect. From Joseph H. Abel and Fred N. Severud, Apartment Houses The Relation between Plan Form and Privacy. From Joseph H. Abel and Fred N. Severud, Apartment Houses Unit-Plan Analysis. From Joseph H. Abel and Fred N. Severud, Apartv ment Houses

xi

54 56 57

58

59

60 6i

62

65 66 68 68

xii 46.

47.

48.

49. 50. 51. 52. 53.

54.

55.

56.

ILLUSTRATIONS Four Unit Plans: Two from Highpoint Apartments, Highgatc, London; Lubetkin 8c Tecton, architects. One from Clinton Hill Apartments, Brooklyn, New York; Harrison, Fouilhoux & Abramovitz, architects. One from Joseph H. Abel and Fred N. Severud, Apartment Houses 71 Three-, Four-, and Five-Room Apartments from Manhattan House, for the New York Life Insurance Company, New York. Mayer 8c Whittlesey and Skidmore, Owings & Merrill, associated architects. Courtesy Mayer & Whittlesey and the New York Life Insurance Co. 73 Two New York Apartment House Plans: 240 Central Park South; Mayer 8c Whittlesey, architects. Castle Village Apartments; George Fred Pelham, Jr., architect. From Joseph H. Abel and Fred N. Severud, Apartment Houses 74 Washington House, Washington. Typical-Floor Plan. Joseph H. Abel, architect. From Joseph H. Abel and Fred N. Severud, Apartment 75 Houses Embassy Court Apartments, Brighton, England. Ground-Floor and Typical-Floor Plans. Wells Coates, architect 77 Embassy Court Apartments, Brighton, England. Exterior. Wells Coates, architect. Courtesy Museum of Modern Art, New York 78 240 Central Park South, New York. Exterior. Mayer & Whittlesey, architects. Photograph Richard Garrison 79 Manhattan House, for the New York Life Insurance Company, New York. Exterior and Detail. Mayer 8c Whittlesey and Skidmore, Owings 8c Merrill, associated architects. Courtesy Mayer 8c Whittlesey and the New York Life Insurance Co. 80 Eastgate, Faculty Apartment House for Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Cambridge, Massachusetts. Photograph of the Model. W. H. Brown, R. W. Kennedy, Carl Koch, and William Davies, architects; Vernon DeMars, consultant; G. N. Perry, structural engineer; C. A. Turner, mechanical engineer; G. I. Savage, electrical engineer. Courtesy Robert Woods Kennedy 80 Typical Apartment House Exteriors: 2100 Connecticut Avenue, Washington; Berla 8c Abel, architects; photograph Rodney McCay Morgan— Photolog. On 16th Street, Washington; Joseph H. Abel, architect; photograph Leet Brothers 81 Typical Apartment House Lobbies: 40 Central Park South, New York; Mayer 8c Whittlesey, architects; photograph Richard Garrison. Washington House, Washington; Berla 8c Abel, architects; photograph Rodney McCay Morgan—Photolog. 2720 Wisconsin Avenue, Washington; Berla 8c Abel, architects; photograph Rodney McCay Morgan —Photolog. 21st and I Streets, Washington; Berla 8c Abel, architects; photograph Rodney McCay Morgan—Photolog. 2121 Virginia Avenue, Washington; Joseph H. Abel, architect; photograph Horydczak 82, 83

ILLUSTRATIONS 57. Typical Roof Gardens: T w o by Le Corbusier, from Andre Lur^at, Terrasses et jardins, Vol. IV of "L'Art international d'aujourd'hui" (Paris: Moreau [ 1929? J). One from Joseph H. Abel and Fred N. Severud, Apartment Houses 58. Apartment House Balconies: One from Ribershus, Malmó, Sweden; E. S. Persson, architect; courtesy School of Architecture, Columbia University. T w o from Joseph H. Abel and Fred N. Severud, Apartment Houses 59. Typical English Inn, Chester, England. Courtesy Ware Library 60. Old Tremont House, Boston, Massachusetts. Main-Floor Plan and Exterior View. Isaiah Rogers, architect. Plan from [W. H. Eliot] Description of Tremont House . . . (Boston: Gray & Bowen, 1830); engraving from J. H. Hinton, History and Topography of the United States (Boston: S. Walker, 1844) 61. The Old Astor House, Broadway, New York. Isaiah Rogers, architect. Courtesy New-York Historical Society 62. Three Early Resort Hotels: Pavilion Hotel, Sharon Springs, New York; photograph Turpin Bannister. Rockaway Marine Pavilion, Rockaway, New York; Town, Davis & Dakin, architects; courtesy New-York Historical Society. Senter House, Center Harbor, New Hampshire; from American Architect 63. The Earlier Waldorf-Astoria, New York. Henry J. Hardenbergh, architect. Courtesy Waldorf-Astoria 64. Grand Pacific Hotel, Chicago, Illinois. Photograph Barnum & Barnum and Commercial Photographic Co. 65. Auditoriujn Hotel, Chicago, Illinois. Exterior, Barroom, and Office. Adler & Sullivan, Architects. Photographs Chicago Architectural Photographic Co. 66. Roosevelt Hotel, New York. Main-Floor, Ballroom-Floor, and TypicalFloor Plans. George B. Post & Sons, architects 67. Roosevelt Hotel, New York. Exterior and View of Lobby from Tearoom. George B. Post & Sons, architects. Courtesy Roosevelt Hotel 68. Statler Hotel, Washington. Main-Floor Plan and Partial Plan of Bedroom Floor. Holabird & Root, architects 69. Statler Hotel, Washington. Veranda Café and Typical Bedroom. Holabird & Root, architects. Photographs Hedrich-Blessing 70. Fredericka Hotel, Little Rock, Arkansas. Exterior. H. Ray Burks, architect; Edward D. Stone, associate. Photograph Hedrich-Blessing 71. Terrace Plaza Hotel, Cincinnati, Ohio. Exterior. Skidmore, Owings & Merrill, architects. Photograph Ezra Stoiier—Pictorial Services 72. Terrace Plaza Hotel, Cincinnati, Ohio. Lobby and Typical Bedroom. Skidmore, Owings 8c Merrill, architects. Photographs Ezra Stoller— Pictorial Services

xui

84

86 98

100 101

102 104 105 106 107 108 111 113 114 114 115

ILLUSTRATIONS

XIV

73.

Terrace Plaza Hotel, Cincinnati, Ohio. Isometric and Part Plan of Entrance Floor. Skidmore, Owings & Merrill, architects. From Architec-

74.

Caribe-Hilton Hotel, San Juan, Puerto Rico. Main-Floor and TypicalFloor Plans. T o r o , Ferrer & Torregrosa, architects; Warner-Leeds, interior architects Caribe-Hilton Hotel, San Juan, Puerto Rico. Exterior of Model and Staircase in Lobby. T o r o , Ferrer & Torregrosa, architects; WarnerLeeds, interior architects. Photograph Hamilton Wright, drawing courtesy Warner-Leeds Royal Hawaiian Hotel, Waikiki, Honolulu. Dining Porch. Gardner A . Dailey, architect. Photograph Maynard L. Parker Hotel Bel Air, Beverly Hills, California. Block Plan and Part Plan of the Public Area. Burton A . Schutt, architect Hotel Bel Air, Beverly Hills, California. T w o Details. Burton A . Schutt, architect. Photographs Julius Shulman Scheme for a Summer Hotel, Peakes Island, Maine. George Littlefield, architect Shantytown on the Banks of the Hudson, N e w York, 1930. Photograph E w i n g Galloway Beach at Atlantic City, N e w Jersey. Photograph Ewing Galloway Children's Recreation Hostel, the Colonia Sandra Mussolini, Cesenatico, Italy. G . Vaccaro, architect. From Architettura Youth Hostel, Fällenden, Switzerland. Plans. Emil Roth, architect T o l l House, Stowe, Vermont. Plans. Edgar A . Hunter, architect Toll House, Stowe, Vermont. Exterior and Dining-Living Room. Edgar A . Hunter, architect. Courtesy Edgar A . Hunter Youth Hostel, Fällenden, Switzerland. Continuous Bunk. Emil Roth, architect. From Das Werk Competition f o r a Children's Camp for the Jewish Vacation Association. Site Plan and Plan of Dining Hall, Elsa Gidoni, architect 140, Competition for a Children's Camp for the Jewish Vacation Association. Plan for Sleeping Cabin and T w o Views of the Model. Elsa G i doni, architect Central Building of a Children's Camp, Lopez Island, Oregon. Chiarelli & Kirk, architects. Photograph Dearborn-Massar Vacation-Camp Site Plans Prepared by the United States National Park Service. From Albert H. Good, architectural consultant for the N a tional Park Service, Park and Recreation Structures (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1938) Butlin Holiday Camp, Corton, England. View of Shopping Center and a Dormitory Plan. Photograph courtesy British Information Services

tural Forum

75.

76. 77. 78. 79. 80. 81. 82. 83. 84. 85. 86. 87. 88.

89. 90.

91.

116 122

12 3 124 125 126 127 13 3 133 134 136 137 138 139 141

142 144

148 149

ILLUSTRATIONS 92. Unity House, Forest Park, Pennsylvania. Exterior and Interior of the Dining Hall. William Lescaze, architect. Courtesy William Lescaze 93. Camp Tamiment, Pennsylvania. Site Plan and Dormitory Plan. Robin & Vogel, architects 94. Camp Tamiment, Pennsylvania. Exterior and Interior of the Theater and Interior of the Dining Hall. Robin & Vogel, architects. Photographs Ezra Stoller—Pictorial Services 95. Proposed Motor Camp. Site Plan, Cabin Plan, and Cabin Elevation. Ernest Payer, architect 96. Dormitory for Railroad Workers, Enola, Pennsylvania. Plans. Lester Tichy, architect. From Pencil Points 97. Dormitory for Railroad Workers, Enola, Pennsylvania. Exterior and View of Cubicles. Lester Tichy, architect. Photographs Robert Damora 98. Women's City, the Dormitory Group for Women Warworkers, Arlington Farms, Virginia. Site Plan and Plan of One Dormitory. George Howe, Gilbert Stanley Underwood, G. S. Persina, S. E. Sanders, architects for the Public Buildings Administration 99. Duration Dormitories for Warworkers, Willow Run, Michigan. Site Model. Saarinen & Swanson, architects. Photograph Cranbrook Academy of Art 100. Duration Dormitories for Warworkers, Willow Run, Michigan. Community Building and Typical Dormitory. Saarinen 8c Swanson, architects. Photographs John S. Coburn, courtesy Eero Saarinen 101. Women's Wartime Industrial Hostels in Great Britain. Social-Center Plan and Typical Dormitory Plan. W. G. Holford, chief architect 102. Farm Security Administration Migratory Labor Camp, Tulare, California. Air View. Vernon DeMars, chief architect for FSA. Courtesy Library of Congress 103. Mineral King Co-operative Farm for the Farm Security Administration. Site Plan. From Pencil Points 104. Five Points, New York City, 1869. From Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper, courtesy New-York Historical Society 105. Typical Slum Flat Plans. From James Ford, Slums and Housing in New York 106. Typical Four-Decker Tenements, Windsor, Vermont. Photographs courtesy Arthur Dewing 107. Planned and Unplanned Garbage-Collection Facilities and Open Spaces: Highland Dwellings (National Capitol Housing Authority). A Speculative Project. Both in Washington. Photographs GottschoSchleisner 108. Two Types of Row-House Plan: One by the United States Housing Authority. One with Combined Front and Service Entrance by Henry S. Churchill

XV

150 151 152 154 155 156

157 159 160 161 162 163 166 167 170

172 173

XVI

ILLUSTRATIONS

109. Humanity in Scale in European Housing: Kiefhoek in Rotterdam, the Netherlands; J. J. P. Oud, architect; courtesy Netherlands Information Bureau. Apartment House, Warsaw, Poland; Helena and Szymon Syrkus, architects; courtesy Museum of .Modern Art, New York 110. Humanity in Scale in the United States: Holly Courts Housing Project, San Francisco, California. Arthur Brown, chief architect. Photograph Philip Fein, courtesy San Francisco Housing Authority HI. Humanizing the Playground: Sculpture in Jane Addams Housing Project, Chicago, Illinois; John A. Holabird, chief architect; Edgar Miller and the WPA Arts Project, sculptors; photograph Vöries Fisher, courtesy Chicago Housing Authority. "Basketball Players" in James Weldon Johnson Houses, New York; Julian Whittlesey, Harry M. Prince, Robert J. Reiley, architects; Oronzio Maldarelli, sculptor; coiirtesy New York Housing Authority 112. Nursery School, James Weldon Johnson Houses, New York. Plan. Julian Whittlesey, Harry M. Prince, Robert J. Reiley, architects 113. Queensbridge Houses, New York. Community Building. William F. R. Ballard, chief architect; Henry S. Churchill, Frederick G. Frost, Burnett C. Turner, associated architects; Cesare Stea, sculptor. Courtesy New York Housing Authority 114. Humanity and Inhumanity in Site Planning: Fort Dupont Housing, Washington (National Capitol Housing Authority); photograph Gottscho-Schleisner. Stuyvesant Town and Peter Cooper Village, for the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company: Air View; photograph Thomas Airviews 115. Contrasted Site Plans: Queensbridge Houses, New York; William F. R. Ballard, chief architect; Henry S. Churchill, Frederick G. Frost, Burnett C. Turner, associated architects. Stuyvesant Town, New York, for the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company; the Company's Board of Design, architects 116. Center Line, Michigan. Site Plan. Saarinen, Swanson & Saarinen, architects. From Architectural Forum 117. Center Line, Michigan. T w o General Views. Saarinen, Swanson & Saarinen, architects. Courtesy Eero Saarinen 118. James Weldon Johnson Houses, New York. Site Plan. Julian Whittlesey, Harry M. Prince, Robert J. Reiley, architects 119. James Weldon Johnson Houses, New York. Typical Unit Plans. Julian Whittlesey, Harry M. Prince, Robert J. Reiley, architects 120. James Weldon Johnson Houses. Three Views. Julian Whittlesey, Harry M. Prince, Robert J. Reiley, architects. Courtesy New York Housing Authority 121. Farm Security Administration Migratory Labor Camp, Yuba City, Cali-

174 175

176 177

178

179

180 181 181 182 183 184

ILLUSTRATIONS

122. 123.

124. 125.

126.

127.

128.

129. 130.

131.

132.

133.

134.

fornia. Air View. Vernon DeMars, chief architect for FSA. Courtesy Library of Congress Fresh Meadows Housing Development, Queens, New York. Plan. Voorhees, Walker, Foley & Smith, architects Fresh Meadows Housing Development, Queens, New York. T w o Views. Voorhees, Walker, Foley & Smith, architects. Photographs Sigurd Fischer, courtesy Voorhees, Walker, Foley & Smith Chaos in Development, Queens, New York. Courtesy Daily News Planning versus Chaos: Fresh Meadows Housing Development and its Surroundings, Queens, N e w York. Voorhees, Walker, Foley & Smith, architects. Photograph Fairchild Aerial Surveys Planning in the Country: Greenbelt, Maryland. Ellington & Wadsworth, architects; Hale Walker, town planner. Courtesy School of Architecture, Columbia University Planning in Europe; T w o Views of the Housing in Frankfurt am Main: "Zigzag Houses" and Bornheimer Hang. Ernst May, chief architect. Courtesy Avery Library Conventional and Well-planned Arrangements of the Same Site. From Federal Housing Administration, Planning Profitable Neighborhoods, Technical Bulletin No. 7 (Washington: Government Printing Office [1938]) Plan of Radburn, New Jersey. Clarence Stein and Henry Wright, architects. From Town Planning Review A So-called Garden Apartment Development. Baldwin Hills Village, Los Angeles, California: Plan. Reginald D. Johnson and Wilson, Merrill & Alexander, associated architects; Clarence Stein, consultant A View in Baldwin Hills Village. Reginald D. Johnson and Wilson, Merrill & Alexander, associated architects; Clarence Stein, consultant. Photograph Kramer, courtesy School of Architecture, Columbia University Livability in Outdoor Areas: Playground, Belmawr Housing, near Camden, N e w Jersey; Mayer & Whittlesey, architects; photograph A. Chelouche. Adult Sitting Area in Radburn, New Jersey; photograph Gretchen Van Tassel Shopping Center, Linda Vista, California. Earl F. Giberson and Whitney R. Smith, architects. Photograph Maynard Parker, courtesy Museum of Modern Art, N e w York Recreation Center, Baldwin Hills Village, Los Angeles, California. Reginald D. Johnson and Wilson, Merrill & Alexander, associated architects; Clarence Stein, consultant. Photograph Dick Whittington, courtesy School of Architecture, Columbia University

xvii 187 188

190 194

195

197

198

199 200

204

205

206

209

210

XV111

135.

136.

137.

138.

139.

140.

141. 142. 143. 144. 145.

146.

147. 148. 149.

ILLUSTRATIONS Attractive Pedestrian Circulations: Greenbelt, Maryland; Ellington & Wadsworth, architects; Hale Walker, town planner. Radburn, New Jersey; Clarence Stein and Henry Wright, architects; photograph Gretchen Van Tassel. Courtesy School of Architecture, Columbia University A Pleasant Place to Live: Baldwin Hills Village, Los Angeles, California. Reginald D. Johnson and Wilson, Merrill & Alexander, associated architects; Clarence Stein, consultant. Photograph Margaret Lowe Community and Shopping Center, Greendale, Wisconsin. Walter G . Thomas and Harry J . Bentley, architects; Jacob Crane and Elbert Peets, town planners. Courtesy School of Architecture, Columbia University Park Forest, Illinois. General Plan. Loebl, Schlossman & Bennett, architects; Elbert Peets, • town planner. Courtesy American Community Builders, Inc. Park Forest, Illinois. Air View and Residential Courts. Loebl, Schlossman & Bennett, architects; Elbert Peets, town planner. Air view photograph, Harry Williams, aerial photographer; court photograph, Hedrich-BIessing. Courtesy American Community Builders, Inc. Early New England Farmhouse Connected to Other Farm Buildings, Knox County, Maine. Exterior. Photograph Rothstein, courtesy United States Department of Agriculture T w o Early Midwest Farmhouses: Caleb Chapel House, Parma, Michigan. One near Marshall, Michigan. Photographs Talbot Hamlin Typical Nineteenth-Century Midwest Farmhouse on the Plains. Plan Typical Nineteenth-Century Midwest Farmhouse on the Plains. Exterior. Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture Chauncey House, Whitehall, Georgia. Exterior» Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture New Farmhouse Showing Urban Influences, Prairie du Sac, Wisconsin. Exterior. Courtesy United States Bureau of Agricultural Chemistry and Engineering Experimental Farm Kitchen Developed by the Bureau of Human Nutrition and Home Economics. Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture Expandable Farm Dwelling. Plan. Robert G. Cerny, architect, for Midwest Farm Papers, Inc. Modern Utility Room in a Wisconsin Farmhouse. Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture Wisconsin Farmhouse Remodeled by the Family with the Assistance of the Bureau of Agricultural Engineering, United States Department of Agriculture, and the University of Wisconsin as Part of a Research Project. Plans before and after Remodeling

212

213

214

216

217

221 222 223 223 123

226

228 229 229

2 30

ILLUSTRATIONS 150.

151. 152. 153. 154. 155. 156. 157.

158. 159.

160. 161. 162. 163. 164.

Wisconsin Farmhouse Remodeled by the Family with the Assistance of the Bureau of Agricultural Engineering, United States Department of Agriculture, and the University of Wisconsin as part of a Research Project. Exterior before and after Remodeling. Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture New Farmhouse Built from Plans Furnished by the United States Department of Agriculture and the University of Georgia. Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture House Suitable for Farm-Labor Family. Plan and Exterior. Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture Yamhill Project House Built under the Bankhead-Jones Tenant Purchase Program. Exterior. Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture Federal Public Housing Authority House, Tupelo, Mississippi. Plan and an Exterior. Photograph courtesy Federal Public Housing Authority Library Cul-de-Sac Grouping, Thornton Homes, Thornton, California. Exterior. Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture Woodville Farm Workers' Community, Woodville, California. Site Plan. Vernon DeMars, chief architect for Farm Security Administration. Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture Community Center and School Building, Woodville Farm Workers' Community, Woodville, California. Exterior. Vernon DeMars, chief architect for Farm Security Administration. Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture Steel Cabins for Migrant Workers, Tulare Migrant Camp, Visalia, California. Exterior. Vernon DeMars, chief architect for Farm Security Administration. Photograph Rothstein, courtesy FSA Farm Workers' Camp, Yuba City, California. Air View and Exterior of Multi-Family House. Vernon DeMars, chief architect for Farm Security Administration. Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture Estimated Percentage of the Total Man-Hours for Selected Enterprises Which Are Spent in and around Farm Buildings, United States, 1943. Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture Plan of Farmstead for North Central States Animal Psychroenergetic Laboratory, Columbia, Missouri. Cutaway Isometric View. Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture Modern Two-Story Dairy Barn. Plan and Exterior. Photograph courtesy United States Department of Agriculture Large Multi-Story Laying House of the Connecticut Type. Photograph G. W. Ackerman, courtesy Extension Service, United States Department of Agriculture

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165. 166. 167. 168. 169. 170. 171. 172. 173. 174. 175.

176. 177. 178. 179* 180. 181. 182. 183. 184. 185.

ILLUSTRATIONS Experimental Prefabricated Metal Bins, Hutchinson, Kansas. Exterior. Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture Nebraska-Type Trackside Farm Storage. Exterior and Plan. Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture Production of Sound Waves by a Vibrating Piston. From Harry F. Olson, Elements of Acoustical Engineering, 2nd ed. (New York: Van Nostrand, 1947) The Piano Keyboard and the Frequencies of the Equally Tempered Scale as Used in Music according to the American Standard Pitch. From Harry F. Olson, Elements of Acoustical Engineering Relation between the Decibel Scale of Noise Levels and Noise Intensities. From Noise Abatement Commission, Department of Health, City of New York, City Noise (New York: Academy Press, 1930) Noise Levels Out-of-Doors Due to Various Noise Sources. From Noise Abatement Commission, Department of Health, City of New York, City Noise Ranges of Noise Levels Found in New York City. From Noise Abatement Commission, Department of Health, City of New York, City Noise Value of m Factor, after Knudsen Reduction of Noise Level with Increase in Absorption Transmission Loss through Rigid Walls Plan and Sectional Sketches of Wall, Floor, and Ceiling Partitions Having a High Degree of Sound Insulation. From Vern O. Knudsen, Architectural Acoustics (New York: Wiley; London: Chapman & Hall, 1932) Noise Level by Octave Bands Impact Noise Levels for Various Types of Floor Reverberation Periods for Various Volumes • Reverberation Periods for Recording or Broadcast Studios Proposed Little Theater for Oberlin College, Oberlin, Ohio. Plan. Shreve, Lamb 8c Harmon, architects Proposed Little Theater for Oberlin College, Oberlin, Ohio. Sections. Shreve, Lamb & Harmon, architects Church of St. Francis of Assisi, Portland, Oregon. Plan after Alteration. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society Plan Proposed to Emphasize the Celebration of the Eucharist. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society Proposed Cathedral Plan Providing for Large Outdoor Congregations. Barry Byrne, architect. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society Plan and Section for a "Celebration Church" to Accommodate a Large Congregation. Papal Legate's Altar in the Center; Other Altars for

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ILLUSTRATIONS

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Archbishops, Bishops, and Priests. Barry Byrne, architect. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society Blessed Sacrament Church, Stowe, Vermont. Plan. Whittier & Goodrich, architects. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society Blessed Sacrament Church, Stowe, Vermont. Exterior and Interior. Whittier & Goodrich, architects. Photographs Richard Garrison, courtesy Liturgical Arts Society Church of Our Lady of Peace, Lordship, Connecticut. Plan. J. Gerald Phelan, architect. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society Church of Our Lady of Peace, Lordship, Connecticut. Exterior and Interior. J. Gerald Phelan, architect. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society St. Mark's Church, Burlington, Vermont. Plan. Freeman, French & Freeman, architects. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society St. Mark's Church, Burlington, Vermont. Exterior. Freeman, French & Freeman, architects. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society Church in the Philippine Islands. Plan and Perspective of Interior. Antonin Raymond & L. L. Rado, architects. Courtesy Antonin Raymond and L. L. Rado Church in the Philippine Islands. Exterior of Model. Antonin Raymond & L. L. Rado, architects. Photograph Ezra Stoller. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society Church in England. Plan. Eric Gill, designer. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society Church in England. Interior. Eric Gill, designer. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society Church of St. Francis Xavier, Kansas City, Missouri. Plan. Barry Byrne, architect Church of St. Francis Xavier, Kansas City, Missouri. Photographs of Model. Barry Byrne, architect. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society Contemporary Religious Painting: "St. John the Baptist," by Lauren Ford. "Our Lady of Fatima," by Sister Mary of the Compassion, O.P. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society Contemporary Religious Painting: " T h e Holy Family," by Jean Charlot. "The Nativity," by Alfred D. Crimi. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society T w o Stations of the Cross: An engraving by André Racz; photograph Oliver Baker. A painting on plaster by Joep Nicolas, in Fordham University Chapel (Downtown Division); photograph F. S. Lincoln. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society Contemporary Religious Sculpture: "The Prophet," José de Creeft, sculptor; photograph John D. Schiff, courtesy the Passedoit Gallery, N e w York. "St. Rose of Lima," Suzanne Nicolas, sculptor; courtesy Liturgical Arts Society

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ILLUSTRATIONS Contemporary Religious Sculpture: "St. Joan of A r c , " Henry Rox, sculptor; copyright Henry Rox. "St. Benedict," Janet Decoux, sculptor. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society "Head of St. Francis." Jean de Marco, sculptor. Photograph Bogart Studio, courtesy Liturgical Arts Society A Crucifix. Ivan Mestrovic, sculptor. Photograph Peter A . Julev & Son, courtesy Liturgical Arts Society Four Early European Protestant Church Plans: From Stockholm; Jean de la Vallee, architect. From Zellerfeld, Germany. From Forchheim, Germany; Georg Bahr, architect. The Frauenkirche, Dresden, Germany; Georg Bahr, architect Meetinghouse, Rockingham, Vermont. Plan. From White Pine Series Vol. VIII, No. 6 (New York: Whitehead and the Pencil Points Press, 1 9 1 5 - ) , courtesy Russell F. Whitehead Meetirtghouse, Rockingham, Vermont. Exterior and Interior. Photographs Kenneth Clark, from White Pine Series, Vol. VIII, No. 6, courtesy Russell F* Whitehead Early Episcopal Churches in the United States: St. Luke's Church, Isle of Wight County, Virginia: photograph Frances Benjamin Johnston. Bruton Parish Church, Virginia, Plan and Interior; courtesy School of Architecture, Columbia University St. Paul's Chapel, N e w York. Interior. James McBean, architect. Photograph Brown Brothers Sansom Street Church, Philadelphia. Interior and Exterior. Robert Mills, architect. From the Robert Mills material, Avery Library St. Luke's Church, Granville, Ohio. Exterior and Interior. Minard Lafever, architect. Photographs Rolan Thompson, courtesy Horace E . King Trinity Church, N e w York. Exterior and Interior. Richard Upjohn, architect. Exterior courtesy Ewing Galloway; interior courtesy Trinity Church Three Typical Nineteenth-Century Church Designs. From a church plan book, courtesy Walter A. Taylor First Methodist Church, Cobleskill, N e w York. T w o Views of the Interior. Photographs Walter A . Taylor Delaware Baptist Church, Syracuse, N e w York. Typical Akron-Plan Sunday School. Photograph Walter A. Taylor Methodist Church, Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Louis H. Sullivan, architect. Photograph Baldridge Studio, courtesy Museum of Modern Art, N e w York St. Thomas's Church, New York. Exterior and Interior. Cram, Goodhue & Ferguson, architects. Exterior courtesy St. Thomas's Church; interior photograph Gottscho-Schleisner

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Trinity Lutheran Church, Fort Wayne, Indiana. Interior. Bertram Goodhue Associates, architects. Courtesy Walter A. Taylor 338 219. Madison Square Presbyterian Church, New York. Exterior. McKim, Mead & White, architects. From A Monograph of the Work of McKim, Mead & White, 1879-191; (New York: Architectural Book Pub. Co. [C1915-1919])

339

220. Trinity Church, Boston. Exterior and Interior. H. H. Richardson, architect. From Monographs of American Architecture, No. 3, 1886 (Boston: Ticknor, 1 8 8 6 - 9 8 ) 340 221. Mexican Baptist Church, Tucson, Arizona. MerrilL, Humble & Taylor, architects. Courtesy Walter A. Taylor 341 222. First Presbyterian Church, New Rochelle, New York. Interior and Exterior. John Russell Pope, architect. Courtesy Walter A. Taylor 342 223. Church of Christ at Dartmouth College, Hanover, New Hampshire. Exterior and Interior. Office of Hobart Upjohn, architects. Exterior courtesy Walter A. Taylor; interior courtesy Church of Christ at Dartmouth College 343 224. First Church of Christ, Longmeadow, Massachusetts. Plans for Additions to a Colonial Church. Wallace E. Dibble, architect; Walter A. Taylor, consultant 344 225. Provisions for Parish Activity: Calvary Methodist Church, Frederick, Maryland; Sundt, Wenner and Fink & Thomas, architects. First Presbyterian Church, Erie, Pennsylvania; Walter A. Taylor, architect 345 226. Plans for Integrated Activities in a Small Rural Church. Walter A. Taylor, architect 346 227. Comparative Plans and Sections. Courtesy Walter A. Taylor 351 228. Characteristic Protestant Chancels: First Baptist Church, New Brunswick, New Jersey; Office of Hobart Upjohn, architects. Methodist Church, Greensboro, North Carolina; Office of Hobart Upjohn, architects. First Baptist Church, Evanston, Illinois, before and after Remodeling; Talmadge & Watson, architects. Crombie Street Congregational Church, Salem, Massachusetts; Merrill, Humble & Taylor, architects. Courtesy Walter A. Taylor 352 229. Unity Temple, Oak Park, Illinois. Exterior and Plan. Frank Lloyd Wright, architect. Photograph courtesy Museum of Modern Art, New York 353 230. St. Clement's Church, Alexandria, Virginia. Plan. Carl Zimmerman, architect. Courtesy Walter A. Taylor 354 231. St. Matthew's Episcopal Chapel, Gold Beach, Oregon. Perspective and Plan. Roi L. Morin, architect. Courtesy Walter A. Taylor 355 232. Federated Church, Orland, California. Interior. George P. Simonds, architect. Courtesy Walter A. Taylor 356

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ILLUSTRATIONS Tabernacle Church of Christ, Columbus, Indiana. T w o Plans. Eliel and Eero Saarinen, architects; E. D. Pierre and George Wright, associated architects. From Architectural Forum Tabernacle Church of Christ, Columbus, Indiana. Exterior and Interior of Church and Exterior of Parish House. Eliel and Eero Saarinen, architects; E. D. Pierre and George Wright, associated architects. Photographs Hedrich-Blessing Reorganized Church of Latter Day Saints, Midland, Michigan. Exterior, Interior, and Chancel Detail. Alden B. Dow, architect. Photographs Elmer L. Astleford Christian Reformed Church, Los Angeles, California. Elevation and Plan. Whitney R. Smith, architect. Courtesy Whitney R. Smith Sea Bee Chapel, Camp Parks, California. Interior. Bruce Goff, designer. Official United States Navy photograph, G. E. Kidder Smith, courtesy G. E. Kidder Smith T w o Early Spanish Synagogues: The present Santa Maria la Blanca, Toledo. The present Iglesia del Transito, Toledo. Courtesy Ware Library Mosaic Tabernacle. Exterior as restored by Fergusson; from James Fergusson, The Temples of the Jews . . . (London: Murray, 1878) Temple of Solomon, according to the Talmud. Plans. Restoration by J. D. Einstein, from the Jewish Encyclopedia (New York: Funk & Wagnalls, 1 9 0 1 - 6 ) Temple at Jerusalem. Bird's-eye View of Restoration by Charles Chipiez. From Georges Perrot and Charles Chipiez, Histoire de fart dans l'antiquité (Paris: Hachette, 1 8 8 2 - 1 9 1 4 ) Plans of T w o Ancient Synagogues: Capernaum, Palestine. Miletus, Greece. From E. L. Sukenik, Ancient Synagogues in Palestine and Greece, Schweich Lectures, the British Academy (London: Humphrey Milford, Oxford University Press, for the British Academy, 1934) Ancient Synagogue Symbolism: Mosaic Floors from the Synagogues at Beth Alpha and at Jeresh in Palestine. From E. L. Sukenik, Ancient Synagogues in Palestine and Greece Old Synagogue, Now in Ruins, in K'ai Fung Foo, China. Exterior and Interior. From the Jewish Quarterly Review Medieval Synagogue, Regensburg, Germany. Plan. From Richard Krautheimer, Mittelalterliche Synagogen (Berlin: Frankfurter Verlagsanstalt [ C 1 9 2 7 ] ) Medieval Synagogue, Regensburg, Germany. Interior. From Richard Krautheimer, Mittelalterliche Synagogen Comparative Plans of Medieval and More Recent Synagogues 378, Interiors of Old Synagogues in Berlin and Rotterdam. From the Jewish Encyclopedia

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ILLUSTRATIONS

XXV

249. Old Synagogue, Amsterdam. Interior of Synagogue and Detail of the Ark. From Bernard Picart, Ceremonies et couttrmes religieuses de torn les peuples du monde (Amsterdam: Bernard, 1739) 381 250. Touro Synagogue, Newport, Rhode Island. Exterior and Interior. Peter Harrison, architect. Photographs Kerschner, courtesy Newport Historical Society 382 251. Beth Elohim Synagogue, Charleston, South Carolina. Interior. Cyrus L. Warner, architect. Photograph Carl Julien 383 252. Eclecticism in Synagogue Design: Synagogue, Florence, Italy, Exterior. Synagogue, Strasbourg, France, Exterior and Interior. From the Jewish Encyclopedia 384 253. Basilican Synagogue Interiors: Mikve Israel Synagogue, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Synagogue of the Spanish and Portuguese Jews, Montreal, Canada. From the Jewish Encyclopedia 385 254. Temple Emanu-El, San Francisco, California. Plan. Bakewell & Brown and Sylvan Schnaittacher, architects. From Architectural Record 386 255. Temple Emanu-EI, San Francisco, California. Exterior and Interior. Bakewell & Brown and Sylvan Schnaittacher, architects. Photographs Gabriel Moulin 386 256. Synagogue, Amsterdam. Exterior and Interior. Harry van Elte, architect. From Kerken, No. 15 of "Moderne Bouwkunst in Nederland" (Rotterdam: Brusse, 1932) 387 257. Two Modern Synagogue Plans: Tiferith Israel Synagogue, Dallas, Texas; Howard R. Meyer, architect. Temple Beth-El, Tyler, Texas; Howard R. Meyer, architect; Charles J . Pate, associate 388 258. Temple Beth-El, Tyler, Texas. Exterior and Interior. Howard R. Meyer, architect; Charles J. Pate, associate. Photographs Walter Steinhard, courtesy Howard R. Meyer 389 259. Tiferith Israel Synagogue, Dallas, Texas. Exterior and Interior. Howard R. Meyer, architect. Photographs Jean St. Thomas, courtesy Howard R. Meyer 390 260. Congregation B'nai Amoona, St. Louis, Missouri. Plan, Interior Perspectives, and Photograph of Model. Eric Mendelsohn, architect. Photograph of model, John H. Lohman. Courtesy Eric Mendelsohn 392, 393 261. Cleveland Jewish Center, Cleveland, Ohio. Plan, Interior Perspective, and Photograph of Model. Eric Mendelsohn, architect. Photograph of model, Dean Stone and Hugo Steccati. Courtesy Eric Mendelsohn 394 262. Theater, Priene, Asia Minor, in the Hellenistic Period. From Armin von Gerkan, Das Theater von Priene . . . (Munich: Schmidt, 1921) 397 263. Roman Theater, Orange, France. Exterior of Stagehouse and Interior. Courtesy Ware Library 398 264. Model of the Setting for a Medieval Miracle Play. Courtesy Brander Matthews Dramatic Museum, Columbia University 398

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267. 268. 269. 270. 271. 272. 273. 274. 275. 276. 277. 278. 279. 280. 281.

ILLUSTRATIONS Models of an English Inn Yard of 1550 and of the Fortune Theater, London. Courtesy Brander Matthews Dramatic Museum, Columbia University 399 A Modern Chinese Theater: Pa-chi Kuan Theater, Mukden, Manchuria. Exterior and Interior. From Chuta Ito, Architectural Decoration in China, translated by Jiro Harada (Tokyo: Toko Bunka Gakuin [ Academy of Oriental Culture], 1941) 399 Teatro Olympico, Vicenza, Italy. Andrea Palladio, architect Courtesy Ware Library 400 La Scala Opera House, Milan, Italy, and an Unidentified Italian Rococo Theater. Courtesy Ware Library 402 Grand Théâtre, Bordeaux, France. Plan. Victor Louis, architect. From Charles Marionneau, Victor Louis . . . (Bordeaux: Gounouilhou, 1881) 403 Comparative Plans of Theater Auditoriums: Versailles; Covent Garden, London; Opéra, Paris; and La Scala, Milan. From J. Guadet, Éléments et théorie de F architecture (Paris: Aulanier, n.d.) 404 Opéra, Paris. Plan. Charles Gamier, architect. From Manfred Semper, "Theater," Handbuch der Architektur, Part IV, Sec. VI (Stuttgart: Kröner, 1904) 406 Opéra, Paris. Longitudinal Section. Charles Gamier, architect. From J. Guadet, Éléments et théorie . . . 407 Theater, Versailles. Interior. A. J. Gabriel, architect. From Le Théâtre et le foyer du Palais de Versailles (Paris: Guérinet, 1908) 408 Richard Wagner's Festspielhaus, Bayreuth, Germany. Plan and Section. Otto Brückwald, architect. Redrawn from Deutsche Bauzeitung 409 Künstlertheater, Munich, Germany. Plan and Section. Max Littmann, architect. Section from Architectural Record 410 Grosses Schauspielhaus, Berlin. Interior. Hans Poelzig, architect. From G. A. Platz, Die Baukunst der neuesten Zeit (Berlin: Propyläenverlag, 1927) 411 Theaters and Drama School, Stuttgart, Germany. Plan. Max Littmann, architect. From Paul Zucker, Theater und Lichtspielhäuser (Berlin: Wasmuth, 1926) 412 Century (New) Theater, New York. Plans and Section. Carrère 8c Hastings, architects 413 Theatre Guild Theatre, New York. Plans and Section. C. Howard Crane, Kenneth Franzheim, and Charles H. Bettis, architects; Lee Simonson, theatrical consultant. From Architectural Record 414 Earl Carroll Theater, New York. Plans and Section. George Keister, architect; Joseph Babolnay, designer. From Architectural Forum 415 Earl Carroll Theater, New York. Interior. George Keister, architect; Joseph Babolnay, designer. From Architectural Forum 416

ILLUSTRATIONS

xxvii

282. Theater of the Students' Union, University of Wisconsin, Madison. Plans and Section. Michael Hare and Harvey Corbett, architects; Lee Simonson, theatrical consultant. From Architectural Forum 420 283. Theater of the Students' Union, University of Wisconsin, Madison. Exterior and Interior. Michael Hare and Harvey Corbett, architects; Lee Simonson, theatrical consultant. Photographs Hedrich-Blessing 423 284. Project for a Theater for Dartmouth College, Hanover, New Hampshire. Plans and Section. J. F. Larson, architect 426, 427 285. Project for a Community Theater for Chiswick, London. Plan, Section, and Detail. H. Herrey, architect. From Architectural Forum 429 286. Cleveland Playhouse, Cleveland, Ohio. Plan. Philip L Small and Charles 430 B. Rowley, architects 287. The "Flexible Theater." Norman Bel Geddes, designer 436 288. The "Flexible Theater." Norman Bel Geddes, designer 437 289. Theater for the University of Washington, Seattle. Plans. Chiarelli & Kirk, architects; John Paul Jones, supervising architect 438 290. Theater for the University of Washington, Seattle. Exterior. Chiarelli & Kirk, architects; John Paul Jones, supervising architect. Courtesy Chiarelli & Kirk 439 291. Community Theater, Malmo, Sweden. Plans and Section. Lallerstedt, Lewerentz & Hellden, architects. From Architecture (Taujourdhui 440 292. Community Theater, Malmo, Sweden. Exterior and Interior. Lallerstedt, Lewerentz & Hellden, architects. Photographs Jaerke, courtesy American Swedish News Exchange 441 293. Community Theater, Malmo, Sweden. Lobby and Foyer. Lallerstedt, Lewerentz & Hellden, architects. Photographs Jaerke, courtesy A f r i can Swedish News Exchange 442 294. Two Early Motion-Picture Theaters: Cascade Theatre, Newcastle, Pennsylvania, a typical nickelodeon. Lee Theatre, Clinton, Missouri, an altered business building. Courtesy Better Theatres 446 295. Early Large Motion-Picture Theaters: Academy Theater, Lynchburg, Virginia, Exterior. Liberty Theater, Lincoln, Nebraska, an altered legitimate theater, Interior. Courtesy Better Theatres 447 296. The Motion-Picture Palace: the Paramount Theatre, New York. Auditorium and Foyer Interiors. Rapp & Rapp, architects. Courtesy Paramount Theatre 448 297. Loew's 72nd Street Theater, New York: an "Atmospheric Theater." Thomas W. Lamb, Inc., architects. Courtesy Edward Dowden, Loew's Theaters 449 298. Grauman's Metropolitan Theater, Los Angeles, California. Auditorium Interior. William Lee Woollett, architect Photographs Merge Studios, courtesy William Lee Woollett 449

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ILLUSTRATIONS

299. Grauman's Metropolitan Theater, Los Angeles, California. Interior of Foyer, Main Lobby, and Balcony Entrance from Foyer. William Lee Woollett, architect. Photographs Merge Studios, courtesy William Lee Woollett 300. Music Hall, Rockefeller Center, New York. Main-Floor Plan and Section. Reinhard & Hofmeister; Corbett, Harrison & MacMurray; and Hood & Fouilhoux, associated architects. From Architectural Forum jo 1. Music Hall, Rockefeller Center, New York. Auditorium and Foyer Interiors. Reinhard & Hofmeister; Corbett, Harrison & MacMurray; and Hood & Fouilhoux, associated architects. Photograph of foyer, CosmoSileo. Courtesy Radio City Music Hall 302. Three Diagram Sections of Motion-Picture-Theater Floor Slopes, Showing the Advantage of Reverse or Bowled Slopes 303. Tacna Theater, Lima, Peru. Construction Photograph of Rear of Balcony. Schlanger & Hoffberg and Reisner & Urbahn, associated architects. Courtesy Ben Schlanger 304. Acoustic Modification of Form: Theater, Museum of Modern Art, New York; Philip Goodwin and Edward D. Stone, architects; photograph Robert Damora, courtesy Museum of Modern Art, New York. Westville Theater, New Haven, Connecticut; Jacob Weinstein and Ben Schlanger, associated architects; C. C. Potwin, acoustic consultant; courtesy Ben Schlanger 305. Private Preview Theater, New York. Ben Schlanger, architect. Photograph Monroe Carrington, courtesy Ben Schlanger 306. Contrasted Theater Interiors: Pix Theater, White Plains, New York; Bianculli 8c Ghiani, architects; Ben Schlanger, consulting architect; ghotograph F. S. Lincoln. Sutton Theater, New York; Ben Schlanger, architect; photograph Monroe Carrington, courtesy Ben Schlanger 307. Esquire Theater, Chicago, Illinois. Plans. Pereira & Pereira, architects. From Architectural Forum 308. Esquire Theater, Chicago, Illinois. Exterior and Interior. Pereira & Pereira, architects. Photographs Hedrich-Blessing 309. Tacna Theater, Lima, Peru. Plan and Section. Schlanger & Hoffberg and Reisner 8c Urbahn, associated architects. From Architectural Record 310. Tacna Theater, Lima, Peru. Front and Rear of Auditorium. Schlanger 8c Hoffberg and Reisner 8c Urbahn, associated architects. Courtesy Ben Schlanger 311. Normandie Theater, New York. Plan and Section. Rosario Candela and Ben Schlanger, architects. Courtesy Rosario Candela 312. Normandie Theater, New York. Exterior. Rosario Candela and Ben Schlanger, architects. Courtesy Ben Schlanger 313. Normandie Theater, New York. Front and Rear of Auditorium. Rosa-

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320. 321. 322. 323. 324. 325.

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rio Candela and Ben Schlanger, architects. Photographs Alfred Cook, courtesy Ben Schlanger Pan-Pacific Theater, Los Angeles, California. Plan and Section. W . L. Pereira and Wurdeman & Becket, associated architects. From Architectural Forum Pan-Pacific Theater, Los Angeles, California. Exterior and Interior. W . L. Pereira and Wurdeman & Becket, associated architects. Photographs Julius Shulman Pix Theater, Rock Hill, South Carolina. Plan and Section. Ben Schlanger, architect Pix Theater, Rock Hill, South Carolina. Exterior and Interior. Ben Schlanger, architect. Exterior photograph Thackston Studios, courtesy Ben Schlanger; interior photograph Ben Schlanger Baldwin Theatre, Los Angeles, California, Built with Laminated Wood Arches. Exterior and Interior. Lewis E. Wilson, architect; Frank Ropp, engineer. Photographs Julius Shulman Island Theatre, Bermuda. Exterior and Interior. Schlanger & Hoffberg, architects and engineers; Reisner & Urbahn, architects. Photographs Clarke Brothers Greek Theater, Epidaurus, Greece. Courtesy Ware Library T o w n Hall, New York. Plans and Section. McKim, Mead 8c White, architects Town Hall, New York. Interior. McKim, Mead & White, architects. Courtesy Town Hall Auditorium, Indiana University, Bloomington. Plan. Eggers & Higgins, architects Hill Auditorium, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. Plans and Section. Albert Kahn, architect; Ernest Welby, associate Hill Auditorium, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. Interior. Albert Kahn, architect; Ernest Welby, associate. Courtesy University of Michigan Comparative Auditorium Shapes 484, Auditorium, Connecticut College for Women, New London. Plans and Section. Shreve, Lamb & Harmon, architects. From Architectural Forum Auditorium, Connecticut College for Women, New London. Interior. Shreve, Lamb & Harmon, architects. Photograph Gottscho-Schleisner Civic Opera House, Chicago, Illinois. Plans. Graham, Anderson, Probst & White, architects Civic Opera House, Chicago, Illinois. General Section and Acoustic Diagram. Graham, Anderson, Probst & White, architects Concert Hall, Göteborg, Sweden. Plans and Section. Nils Einar Eriksson, architect

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341. 342. 343. 344. 345. 346.

ILLUSTRATIONS Conceit Hall, Göteborg, Sweden. Exterior and Interior. Nils Einar Eriksson, architect. Exterior from Moderne Bmformen; interior courtesy American Swedish News Exchange 494 Salle Pleyel, Paris. Plans and Section. Auburtin, Granet & J. B. Mathon, architects 495 Kleinhans Music Hall, Buffalo, New York. Plan. F. J. & W. A. Kidd and Eliel Saarinen, associated architects. From Architectural Forum 496 Kleinhans Music Hall, Buffalo, New York. Exterior and Large Concert Hall. F. J. & W. A. Kidd and Eliel Saarinen, associated architects. Photographs Robert Damora 497 Auditorium, Cleveland, Ohio. Plans and Section. J. H. MacDonald, architect; F. R. Walker, consulting architect 500 Municipal Auditorium, Kansas City, Missouri. Three Plans. Alonzo H. Gentry; Voskamp & Neville; Hoit, Price & Barnes, associated architects; Erwin Pfuhl, structural engineer; W. L. Cassell, mechanical engineer 502 Municipal Auditorium, Kansas City, Missouri. Section. Alonzo H. Gentry; Voskamp & Neville; Hoit, Price & Barnes, associated architects; Erwin Pfuhl, structural engineer; W. L. Cassell, mechanical engineer $03 Municipal Auditorium, Kansas City, Missouri. Exterior and Auditorium Interior. Alonzo H. Gentry; Voskamp & Neville; Hoit, Price 8c Barnes, associated architects; Erwin Pfuhl, structural engineer; W. L. Cassell, mechanical engineer. Courtesy Alonzo Gentry 504 Municipal Auditorium, Kansas City, Missouri. Exhibition Hall, Lobby, and Theater. Alonzo H. Gentry; Voskamp & Neville; Hoit, Price & Barnes, associated architects; Erwin Pfuhl, structural engineer; W. L. Cassell, mechanical engineer. Courtesy Alonzo Gentry 505 Madison Square Garden, New York. Plans. Thomas W. Lamb, architect 515 Messehalle, Helsinki. Plan and Section. Hytönen & Luukkonen, architects 516 Municipal Auditorium, Topeka, Kansas. Exterior. Griest 8c Coolidge, architects. Photograph Wolfe's, courtesy Municipal Auditorium, Topeka 517 A Carved Frieze, Angkor Wat. From Tel, Angkor Wat (Paris: Tel, 1931) 518 Dome of the Rock, Jerusalem. Photograph Deane Dickason from Ewing Galloway 519 Illustrations Characteristic of Henry Barnard's Work, Showing Plans, Examples, and Early School Desks and Seats. From Henry Barnard, School Architecture . . . (New York: Barnes, 1848; rev. with additions, 1853) 542

ILLUSTRATIONS 347. Early American Schoolhouses. From James Johonnot, School-Houses; Architectural Designs by S. E. Hewes (New York: Schermerhorn, 1872) 348. A Typical "Academy": Lancaster School, Albany, New York. Elevation and Plans. Philip Hooker, architect. Plans redrawn from and elevation from Edward W. Root, Philip Hooker . . . (New York: Scribner's, 1929) 349. Cudworth School, East Boston, Massachusetts. Perspective and Plans. Edmund M. Wheelwright, architect. From Francis W. Chandler, Municipal Architecture in Boston, from Designs by Edmund M. Wheelwright, City Architect, 1891-189f (Boston: Bates & Guild, 1898) 350. Typical Early-Twentieth-Century Elementary Classroom, according to Donovan. From John J. Donovan, School Architecture; Principles and Practices (New York: Macmillan, 1921) 351. High School, Parkersburg, West Virginia. Plan. F. Packard and R. Snyder, architects 352. Two High Schools of the First Quarter of the Twentieth Century: Lincoln High School, Manitowoc, Wisconsin. Evanston Township High School, Evanston, Illinois. Perkins, Fellows & Hamilton, architects. Photographs Chicago Architectural Photographing Co. 353. Aasonia High School, Ansonia, Connecticut. Isometric. William Lescaze, architect. Courtesy William Lescaze 354. Ansonia High School, Ansonia, Connecticut. Two Exteriors. William Lescaze, architect. Courtesy William Lescaze 355. School at Hilversum, the Netherlands. Plan. W. M. Dudok, architect 356. School at Hilversum, the Netherlands. Court Terrace and First-Grade Interior. W. M. Dudok, architect. Courtesy School of Architecture, Columbia University 357. School at Romerstadt, near Frankfurt am Main, Germany. Exterior and Plans. Martin Elsaesser and W. Schutte, architects. From Roger Poulain, Écoles . . . (Paris: Fréal, 1930-31?) 358. Public Elementary School, Stockholm. E. G. Asplund, architect. Courtesy American Swedish News Exchange 359. Experimental Elementary School, Bell, California. Exterior Views and Plan. Richard J . Neutra, architect. General photographs Luckhaus Studios; detail photograph Julius Schulman, courtesy Richard J. Neutra 360. Two One-Story School Plans: Upland, California; Marsh, Smith & Powell, architects. Crow Island School, Winnetka, Illinois; Saarinen & Swanson and Perkins & Will, associated architects. From Architectural Forum 361. Open-Plan One-Story School: Acalanes Union High School, California. Franklin & Kump, architects

XXXI

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XXX ii

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364. 365. 366.

367.

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371. 372.

373.

ILLUSTRATIONS Typical Activity Classrooms; Isometric Views: Classroom, Ross School, San Rafael, California; Carl Gramme, architect. First-Grade Room, Blythe Park Elementary School, Riverside, Illinois; Perkins & Will, architects 562 Typical Modern Kindergarten and a School Library, Elementary School, Northville, Michigan; Lyndon 8c Smith, architects; photographs F. S. Lincoln. Library, Blythe Park Elementary School, Riverside, Illinois; Perkins & Will, architects; Milton Horn, sculptor; photograph Estelle Horn 564 Nursery School, Charlestown Township, Pennsylvania. Isometric. Oscar Stonorov, architect. From Architectural Forum 566 Machine and Metal Trades High School, New York. Plans. Eric Kebbon, architect 568, 569 Machine and Metal Trades High School, New York. Exterior. Eric Kebbon, architect. Photograph Rodney McCay Morgan—Photolog, courtesy New York City Board of Education 570 Characteristic Gymnasium Plans: Norris School, Norris, Tennessee; Tennessee Valley Authority, architects; from Architectural Record. High School, Farmington, Michigan; Lyndon 8c Smith, architects; from Architectural Forum 572 Building for Athletics, High School, Farmington, Michigan. Exterior and Interior. Lyndon & Smith, architects. Photographs HedrichBlessing 573 Upland Elementary School, Upland, California; Exterior of Auditorium. John C. Fremont School, Anaheim, California; Interior of Auditorium. Marsh, Smith 8c Powell, architects. Photographs Eaton, courtesy Marsh, Smith & Powell 575 Plans Showing Provision for Community Use: Center Line Community House and School, Center Line, Michigan; Saarinen 8c Swanson, architects. Blythe Park Elementary School, Riverside, Illinois; Perkins 8c Will, architects 580 Daylighting Classrooms: Comparative Sections. From Architectural Record 582 Daylighting Classrooms: Liberty School, Agoura, California; Ralph C. Flewelling 8c Associates, architects. High School, Martinez, California; Bamberger 8c Reid, architects. High School, Clarksville, New York; Henry A. Blatner, architect. Laurel School, San Mateo, California; Franklin, Kump 8c Falk, architects. High School, Barstow, California; Franklin, Kump 8c Falk, architects. Blythe Park Elementary School, Riverside, Illinois; Perkins 8c Will, architects 584 Fred R. Moore Public School 1 3 3 , New York. Plans. Archibald F. Gilbert, architect 588, 589

ILLUSTRATIONS

XXX11J

374. Comparative School Plan Types: Lincoln School, Independence, Kansas; T . W. Williamson Company, architects; from Pencil Points. Central Elementary School, Richfield, Minnesota; Long & Thorshov, architects; Ralph E. Thomas and associates, engineers; from Progressive Architecture. Ross School, San Rafael, California; Carl Gromme, architect. Lowell School, Salina, Kansas; Charles W. & John A. Shaver, architects; from Progressive Architecture 590, 591 375. Expression in Schools: Public School 33, New York; Eric Kebbon, architect; courtesy New York City Board of Education. John C. Fremont School, Anaheim, California, Covered Way and Auditorium; Marsh, Smith & Powell, architects; photograph Eaton, courtesy Marsh, Smith & Powell. Fred R. Moore Public School 133, New York; Archibald F. Gilbert, architect; courtesy New York City Board of Education 592 376. Expression in Schools: Elementary School, Richfield, Minnesota. Long & Thorshov, architects. Photograph Photography, Inc. 593 377. Expression in Schools: Crow Island School, Winnetka, Illinois; Saarinen & Swanson and Perkins & Will, associate architects; photograph Hedrich-Blessing. Northville School, Northville, Michigan; Lyndon & Smith, architects; photograph F. S. Lincoln. Nursery School, Charlestown Township, Pennsylvania; Oscar Stonorov, architect; photographs Robert Damora 595 378. Expression in Schools: Blythe Park Elementary School, Riverside, Illinois. Perkins & Will, architects. Photographs Hedrich-Blessing, courtesy Perkins 8c Will 596 379. Eton School, England. View in Courtyard. Chiefly Sixteenth Century. Courtesy British Information Services 600 380. Virginia Military Institute, Lexington. Exterior of Main Building, 1857. A. J. Davis, architect. Photograph Wayne Andrews 600 381. St. George's School, Middletown, Rhode Island. Air View, Block Plan, and Two Exteriors. Courtesy St. George's School 601 382. Groton School, Groton, Massachusetts. Plan of Schoolhouse and Block Plan. Courtesy Groton School 603 383. Groton School, Groton, Massachusetts. Schoolhouse and Hundred Hall Refectory. Courtesy Groton School 604 384. Choate School, Wallingford, Connecticut. Two Typical Views. Courtesy Choate School 605 385. Middlesex School, Concord, Massachusetts. Two Air Views and Key. Photograph Fairchild Aerial Survey 606 386. Lawrenceville School, Lawrenceville, New Jersey. Air View of Quadrangle and Playing Fields. Courtesy Lawrenceville School 607 387. Deerfield Academy, Deerfield, Massachusetts. Administration Building and Science Building. Geoffrey Piatt, architect. Photographs GottschoSchleisner 608

xxxiv 388. 389.

390. 391. 392.

393. 394.

395.

396.

397. 398.

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400. 401. 402. 403.

404.

ILLUSTRATIONS Loomis Institute, Windsor, Connecticut. General Plan. Murphy & Dana, architects. From Architecture Loomis Institute, Windsor, Connecticut. Founders Hall (the School Building) and Interiors of Dining Hall and Chapel. Murphv & Dana, architects. Photographs Kenneth Clark, from Architecuire Phillips Andover Academy, Andover, Massachusetts. Part General Plan Avon Old Farms School, Avon, Connecticut. General Plan. Theodate Pope, architect. Courtesy Avon Old Farms School Avon Old Farms School, Avon, Connecticut. General View, Refectory and Bank, and Dormitory Court. Theodate Pope, architect. Courtesy Avon Old Farms School California Military Academy, Baldwin Hills, Los Angeles. Plan. Richard J . Neutra, architect California Military Academy, Baldwin Hills, Los Angeles, California. Classroom Wing, East Entrance, and Dormitory Corridor. Richard J . Neutra, architect. Photographs Luckhaus Studios Design for Riverdale Country Day School, Riverdale, New York. Plan of Academic Group and Photograph of Model. Skidmore, Owings & Merrill, architects. Courtesy Skidmore, Owings & Merrill Design for Riverdale Country Day School, Riverdale, New York. Court of Academic Group and Typical Student Residence. Skidmore, Owings & Merrill, architects. Courtesy Skidmore, Owings & Merrill North Country School, Lake Placid, New York. Plans. Douglas Haskell, Henry S. Churchill, and Roderick Seidenberg, architects North Country School, Lake Placid, New York. Exterior of Main Building. Douglas Haskell, Henry S. Churchill, and Roderick Seidenberg, architects. Photograph Ezra Stoller—Pictorial Services North Country School, Lake Placid, New York. Interior. Douglas Haskell, Henry S. Churchill, and Roderick Seidenberg, architects. Photograph Ezra Stoller—Pictorial Services and Douglas Haskell Collegio di Sapienza, Rome. Plan. Giacomo della Porta, architect. From J . Guadet, Éléments et théorie . . . Balliol College, Oxford. Bird's-eye View. From David Loggan, Oxonia Illustrata . . . (Oxford: Sheldonian Theater, 1675) Harvard College, Cambridge, Massachusetts. View in 1795. From a painting by J . Houdin, courtesy Miss Reeves and John C. B. Moore Amherst College, Amherst, Massachusetts. From a drawing by A. J . Davis, from John Howard Hinton, The History and Topography of the United States . . . (Boston: Walker, 1844) Union College, Schenectady, New York. Original Design. J . J . Ramée, architect. From the original drawing at Union College, courtesy Union College

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ILLUSTRATIONS

XXXV

405. University of Virginia, Charlottesville. Original General Plan and View. Thomas Jefferson, architect. Photograph courtesy Professor Edmund Campbell 627 406. Order and Disorder in Campus Plans: Washington University, St. Louis, Missouri, Air View; photograph Barnes Aerial Surveys, courtesy Washington University, Smith College, Northampton, Massachusetts, Plan 630 407. Formal Classicism in Campus Plans: Columbia University, New York, General Plan circa 1910; McKim, Mead & White, architects. Sweet Briar College, Sweet Briar, Virginia; Cram, Goodhue & Ferguson, architects 631 408. Formality in Campus Plans: Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Maryland; Parker, Thomas & Rice, architects; redrawn from C. Z. Klauder and H. C. Wise, College Architecture in America . . . (New York: Scribner's, 1929). Colby College, Waterville, Maine 633 409. Ordered Campus Plans on Varied Topography: Bennington College, Bennington, Vermont. Denison University, Granville, Ohio; A. W. Brunner, architect; Frederick Law Olmsted, landscape architect 634 410. Urban Campus Plan, Scripps College, Claremont, California. Gordon B. Kaufmann, architect; Edward R. Trout, landscape architect 635 411. Goucher College, Baltimore, Maryland. Detail of the Academic Group and General Plot Plan. Moore & Hutchins, architects. From the winning competition drawings 636 412. Drake University, Des Moines, Iowa. General Plan. Saarinen, Saarinen & Associates, architects. Courtesy Eero Saarinen 637 413. University of Miami, Coral Gables, Florida. General Plan. Robert Law Weed, Marion I. Manley, Robert M. Little, architects. Courtesy Robert Law Weed 637 414. A Metropolitan College: Hunter College, New York. Exterior View and Interior of the Little Theater. Shreve, Lamb, & Harmon, architects; Harrison & Fouilhoux, associated architects. Photographs Robert Damora 638 415. Library, University of Iowa, Iowa City. Plans. Keffer & Jones, architects. Courtesy University of Iowa 640 416. Holland Library, State College of Washington, Pullman. Interior Sketches. John W. Maloney, architect. From Architectural Record 641 417. Charles Hayden Memorial Library, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Cambridge, Massachusetts. Plans and Part Section. Voorhees, Walker, Folev & Smith, architects 643 418. Charles Hayden Memorial Library, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Cambridge, Massachusetts. Exterior. Voorhees, Walker, Foley & Smith, architects. Photograph Drix Duryea, courtesy Voorhees, Walker. Folev & Smith 644

XXXVI

419. 420. 421.

422. 423. 424. 425. 426.

427. 428. 429. 430.

431. 432.

ILLUSTRATIONS Library, Goucher College, Baltimore, Maryland. Plans. Moore & Hutchins, architects. Courtesy Moore & Hutchins Library, Goucher College, Baltimore, Maryland. Exterior Perspective. Moore & Hutchins, architects. Courtesy Moore & Hutchins Building for Science and Pharmacy, Drake University, Des Moines, Iowa. Wall Section and Typical Classrooms. Saarinen, Swanson & Saarinen, architects; Brooks-Borg, associated architects. From Architectural Record Classroom Building, University of Miami, Coral Gables, Florida. T w o Exterior Views. Robert Law Weed, Marion I. Manlev, Robert M. Little, architects. Photographs Ezra Stoller—Pictorial Services National School of Engineering, Lima, Peru. Proposed General Plan. Moore & Hutchins, architects. From Architectural Record Engineering School, University of Maryland, College Park. General Plan. Skidmore, Owings & Merrill, architects. From Architectural Record Typical Dormitory Arrangements. From Harold R. Sleeper, "University Housing Problems" in Architectural Forum, Vol. $4 (1931), June, pp. 761-70 Typical Dormitory Plans: Worth Hall, Swarthmore College, Swarthmore, Pennsylvania; Karcher & Smith, architects. Eleanor Toll Hall, Scripps College, Claremont, California; Gordon B. Kaufman, architect. From Architectural Forum Mary Fisher Hall, Goucher College, Baltimore, Maryland. Plan. Moore & Hutchins, architects. Courtesy Moore & Hutchins Mary Fisher Hall, Goucher College, Baltimore, Maryland. Exterior Detail and View in Dining Hall. Moore 8c Hutchins, architects. Photographs Gottscho-Schleisner Women's Dormitories, Drake University, Des Moines, Iowa. Plan and Perspective. Saarinen, Saarinen & Associates, architects. Courtesy Eero Saarinen Modern Dormitories for Southern and for Northern Climates: Dormitory, University of Miami, Coral Gables, Florida; Robert Law Weed, Marion I. Manley, Robert M. Little, architects; photograph Ezra Stoller—Pictorial Services. Women's Dormitory, Antioch College, Yellow Springs, Ohio; Saarinen, Swanson & Associates and Max G. Mercer, associated architects; photograph Dearborn-Massar Kitchen and Dining Halls, Princeton University, Princeton, New Jersey. General Plan and Kitchen Plan. Day Brothers & Klauder, architects Details of Kitchen Arrangement, Goucher College, Baltimore, Maryland. Moore & Hutchins, architects. Courtesy Moore & Hutchins

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XXXVII

433. Memorial Church, Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts. Plan. Coolidge, Shepley, Bulfinch & Abbott, architects. Courtesy Moore & Hutchins 663 434. Memorial Union Building, Purdue University, Lafayette, Indiana. Plans. Pond & Pond, and Pond, Martin & Lloyd, architects. Courtesy Purdue University 664 435. Students' Union Building, University of Miami, Coral Gables, Florida. Plans. Robert Law Weed, Marion 1. Manley, Richard M. Little, architects 66 ï 436. Students' Union Building, University of Miami, Coral Gables, Florida. Three Views. Robert Law Weed, AÎarion I. Manley, Robert M. Little, architects. Photographs Ezra Stoller—Pictorial Services 666 437. T w o Roman Libraries: Ephesus, Plan and Perspective; from drawings by W. Wilberg, in Jahreshefte des österreichischen Institutes, Vol. XI. Timgad, Plan; from E. Boeswillwald, R. Cagnat, and A. Ballu, Timgad, une cité africaine (Paris: Leroux, 1905) 676 438. Plans of T w o Early English College Libraries: Queen's College, Cambridge. Merton College, Oxford. From John Willis Clark, The Care of Books . . . (Cambridge, Eng.: University Press, 1901) 677 439. Interiors of T w o Early English College Libraries: Bodleian Library, Oxford. Merton College Library, Oxford. From John Willis Clark, The Care of Books . . . 678 440. Interior of the University Library, Leyden, the Netherlands. From John Willis Clark, The Care of Books . . . 679 441. Prunksaal of the Hofbibliothek, Vienna. Johann Fischer von Erlach, architect. Courtesy School of Architecture, Columbia University 680 442. Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris. Part Plan. Henri Labrouste, architect. 681 From J. Guadet, Éléments et théorie . . . 443. Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris. Reading Room and Stack. Henri Labrouste, architect. Reading room courtesy Ware Library; stack from J. Guadet, Éléments et théorie . . . 682 444. Public Library, Cincinnati, Ohio. Plan. James W. McLaughlin, architect. Courtesy Cincinnati Public Library 683 445. Public Library, Cincinnati, Ohio. Interior. James W. McLaughlin, architect. Courtesy Cincinnati Public Library 684 446. Redwood Library, Newport, Rhode Island. Exterior and Detail. Peter Harrison, architect. Photographs Talbot Hamlin 685 447. Public Library, Boston, Massachusetts. Exterior and Stair Hall. McKim, Mead & White, architects. Exterior courtesy Avery Library; stair hall from A Monograph of the Work of McKim, Mead & White, 18791915 686 448. Public Library, New York. First- and Third-Floor Plans. Carrère & Hastings, architects. Courtesy New York Public Library 688

XXXVU1

ILLUSTRATIONS

449. Public Library, New York. Rear, Showing Stacks and Reading Room. Carrère & Hasrings, architects. Photograph Ewing Gallowav 450. Public Library, Springfield, Massachusetts. Plan. Edward L. Tilton, architect 451. Public Library, Springfield, Massachusetts. Exterior. Edward L. Tilton, architect. Courtesy Springfield Public Library 452. Enoch Pratt Free Library, Baltimore, Maryland. Main-Floor Plan and Section. Clyde and Nelson Friz, architects; Edward L. Tilton and Alfred M. Githens, associate and consulting architects. From Library Journal 453. Institute Free Library, Wilmington, Delaware. Façade. Edward L. Tilton and Alfred M. Githens, associated architects. Courtesy Alfred M. Githens 454. Haish Memorial Library, DeKalb, Illinois. Plans. White & Weber, architects. From Architectural Forum 455. Haish Memorial Library, DeKalb, Illinois. Exterior. White & Weber, architects. Photograph Hedrich-Blessing 456. Public Library, Brooklyn, New York. Entrance. Alfred M. Githens and Francis Keally, architects. Photograph Gottscho-Schleisner 457. Public Library, Brooklyn, New York. Delivery Hall (with Catalogue), Reading Room, and Browsing Room. Alfred M. Githens and Francis Keally, architects. Photographs Gottscho-Schleisner 458. Additions to Harlem Branch Library, New York. Plans. Louis Allen Abramson, architect * 459. Additions to Harlem Branch Library, New York. Exterior and View in Reading Room. Louis Allen Abramson, architect. Photographs Dearborn-Massar 460. Lakeview Branch, Chicago Public Library, Illinois. Plans. Paul Gerhardt, Jr., architect. From Architectural Forum 461. Lakeview Branch, Chicago Public Library, Illinois. Exterior. Paul Gerhardt, Jr., architect. Photograph Hedrich-Blessing 462. Holland Library, State College of Washington, Pullman. Plans. John W. Maloney, architect 463. Holland Library, State College of Washington, Pullman. Exterior. John W. Maloney, architect. From Architectural Record 464. Carroll College Library, Waukesha, Wisconsin. Plan. Van der Gracht & Kilham, architects 465. Carroll College Library, Waukesha, Wisconsin. Exterior. Van der Gracht & Kilham, architects. Photograph Hedrich-Blessing 466. Carroll College Library, Waukesha, Wisconsin. Delivery Desk and Reading Room. Van der Gracht & Kilham, architects. Photographs Hedrich-Blessing

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691 692 698 698 700 701 702 703 704 705 706 707 708 709 709

ILLUSTRATIONS

xxxix

467. Lamont Undergraduate Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts. Three Plans and Section. Coolidge, Shepley, Bulfinch & Abbott, architects. From Architectural Record 712 468. Lamont Undergraduate Library, Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts. Exterior Perspective. Coolidge, Shepley, Bulfinch & Abbott, architects. From American School and University 71 j 469. Louvre, Paris. Grande Galerie. "The Marriage Procession of Napoleon and Marie-Louise," drawing by Zix. From Louis Hautecoeur, Histoire du Louvre . . . (Paris: L'Illustration [1928?]) 717 470. Louvre, Paris. Grande Galerie and Sculpture Museum prior to 1920. Courtesy Ware Library 717 471. Altes Museum, Berlin. Plans. Karl Friedrich Schinkel, architect. From Karl Friedrich Schinkel, Sammlung architektonischer Entwürfe . . . (Berlin: Ernst & Korn, 1858) 719 472. Altes Museum, Berlin. Exterior. Karl Friedrich Schinkel, architect. Courtesy Ware Library 720 473. Neues Museum and Pergamon Museum, Berlin. August Stüler, architect. Courtesy Ware Library 721 474. An Art Nouveau or Jugendstil Museum, the Secessionsgebäude, Vienna. Josef M. Olbrich, architect. Courtesy Ware Library 722 475. Museum of Modern Art, New York. Three Plans. Philip Goodwin and Edward D. Stone, architects. From Architectural Forum 725 476. Museum of Modern Art, New York. Exteriors. Philip Goodwin and Edward D. Stone, architects. Photographs Robert Uamora 726 477. Museum of Modern Art, New York. A Typical Gallery View. Philip Goodwin and Edward D. Stone, architects. Photograph Robert Damora 727 478. Various Methods of Subdividing Museum Galleries. From Clarence Stein, "Making Museums Function," in Architectural Forum, Vol. 56 (1932), June, pp. 609-16 728 479. Art Museum, Hamburg, Germany. Gallery Interiors Show ing Picture Screens. Karl Schneider, architect. From Encyclopédie d'architecture . . . constructions modernes (Paris: Morancé, n.d.) 729 480. Avery Memorial Museum, Hartford, Connecticut. Interior of Nutting Gallery. Morris & O'Connor, architects. Courtesy Robert O'Connor 730 481. Typical Methods of Lighting Museum Galleries: From Isadore Rosenfield, "Light in Museum Planning," in Architectural Forum, Vol. 56 (1932), June, pp. 519-609. Gemeente Museum, The Hague, the Netherlands, Section through a Gallery; H. P. Berlage, architect; from Gemeente-Museum 'j Gravenhage ([The Hague: Gemeente Museum] '935)

482.

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New-York Historical Society, New York. Top-Floor Gallery and Print Room. Walker & Gillette, architects. Courtesy New-York Historical Society 732

xl 483.

484.

485. 486.

487.

488. 489.

490. 491. 492.

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ILLUSTRATIONS Cranbrook Academy of Art, Bloomfield Hills, Michigan. Museum Interior. Eliel and Eero Saarinen, architects. Photograph Hedrich-Blessing, courtesy Cranbrook Academy of Art Experimentally Lighted Galleries at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. Metropolitan Museum Gallery Lighting Study, Laurence S. Harrison, Consulting Engineer. Courtesy Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York A Typical Method of Lighting Habitat Groups in Natural History Museums Fogg Museum, Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts. Plans. Coolidge, Shepley, Bulfinch & Abbott, architects. Courtesy Fogg Museum Fogg Museum, Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts. StudyStorage Room with Sliding Picture Racks. Coolidge, Shepley, Bulfinch & Abbott, architects. Courtesy Fogg Museum Diagram of Museum Functions Suggested Plans for a Large Museum. Clarence Stein, architect. From Clarence Stein, "The Art Museum of Tomorrow," in Architectural Record, Vol. 6 7 , No. 1 (January, 1 9 3 0 ) , pp. 5-12 Boymans Museum, Rotterdam, the Netherlands. Plans. A. Van der Steur, architect. From Wasmuths Monatshefte für Baukunst und Städtebau Art Museum, Seattle, Washington. Plans and Elevation. Bebb 8c Gould, architects. From American Architect Scheme for an Expandable Museum. Le Corbusier, architect. From Le Corbusier, oeuvre complète 1938-46, edited by Willy Boesiger (Erlenbach-Zurich: Les Éditions d'Architecture [ C 1 9 4 6 ] ) Parliament Building, Vienna, Exterior. Theophilus Hansen, architect. Courtesy Ware Library United States Capitol, Washington. View from the East. Thornton, Latrobe, Bulfinch, and Walter, architects. Courtesy Avery Libran Plans of Three Early American State Capitols: Jackson, Mississippi; Morrison, Lawrence, and Nichols, architects; from American Architect. Columbus, Ohio; Henry Walters and others, architects. Nashville, Tennessee; William Strickland, architect; from Talbot Hamlin, Greek Revival Architecture in America (New York: Oxford University Press, 1944)

496.

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North Carolina State Capitol, Raleigh. Exterior and Interior. Town & Davis and David Paton, architects. Photographs Frances Benjamin Johnston 761 Ohio State Capitol, Columbus. Exterior. Henry Walters and others, architects. Courtesy John Mead Howells and Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York 762

ILLUSTRATIONS 498. Nebraska State Capitol, Lincoln. Plan and Section. B. G. Goodhue, architect. From American Architect 499. Nebraska State Capitol, Lincoln. Exterior and Entrance Hall. B. G. Goodhue, architect. Photographs Gottscho-Schleisner 500. Louisiana State Capitol, Baton Rouge. Three Plans. Weiss, Dreyfous & Seiferth, architects 501. Louisiana State Capitol, Baton Rouge. Exterior View and Detail of Entrance. Weiss, Dreyfous & Seiferth, architects. Photographs GottschoSchleisner 502. North Dakota State Capitol, Bismarck. Two Plans. Joseph Bell De Remer, William F. Kurke, Holabird & Root, associated architects 503. North Dakota State Capitol, Bismarck. Exterior and an Interior. Joseph Bell De Remer, William F. Kurke, Holabird & Root, associated architects. Photographs Hedrich-Blessing 504. Oregon State Capitol, Salem. Three Plans. Trowbridge & Livingston and Francis Keally, architects 505. Oregon State Capitol, Salem. Two Exteriors and an Interior. Trowbridge & Livingston and Francis Keally, architects. Photographs Esther Born, courtesy Francis Keally 506. West Virginia State Capitol, Charleston. Exterior. Cass Gilbert, architect. Photograph Ewing Galloway 507. Chambre des Députés and Adjuncts, Paris. Plan of the Alterations of 1831. M. de Joli, architect. From Gourlier, Biét, Grillon, and Feu Tardieu, Choix d'édifices publics (Paris: Colas, 1825-36) 508. Legislature Chambers; Comparative Interiors: Senate Chamber, Luxembourg Palace, Paris; courtesy Ware Library. Senate Chamber, National Capitol, Washington; photograph Ewing Galloway. Hall of Representatives, Connecticut State Capitol, Hartford; Richard M. Upjohn, architect; courtesy Ware Library. House of Commons, London; photograph Ewing Galloway. Senate Chamber, North Dakota State Capitol, Bismarck; Joseph Bell De Remer, William F. Kurke, Holabird & Root, associated architects; photograph Hedrich-Blessing 509. Scheme for Palace of the League of Nations. General Plan; courtesy Museum of Modern Art, New York. Elevation; from Architecture vivante. Le Corbusier & Jeanneret, architects , 510. Scheme for Palace of the League of Nations. Façade of Secretariat, Provisions for Parking, and Covered Entrance Way to Great Hall. Le Corbusier & Jeanneret, architects. Façade of Secretariat courtesy Museum of Modern Art, New York; others from Le Corbusier Une Maison —un palais (Paris: Crès 1929) 511. United Nations Headquarters, New York. Views of Model and Sketch of Delegates' Entrance to Assembly Building. G. A. Soilleux, G. Brunfaut, O. Niemeyer, E. Cormier, Liang Ssu Ch'eng, Le Corbusier,

xli 763 764 765 766 767 768 769 770 771 771

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514. 515.

516. 517. 518. 519. 520.

ILLUSTRATIONS N. D. Bassov, H. Robertson, J. Vilamajo, Board of Design; United Nations Headquarters Planning Office (Wallace K. Harrison, Director; Max Abramovitz, Deputy), architects; Louis Skidmore, Gilmore Clarke, Ralph Walker, consultants. Courtesy United Nations Headquarters Planning Office 775 United Nations Headquarters, New York. Section and Plan of Assembly Building and View of Revised Model. G. A. Soilleux, G. Brunfaut, O. Niemeyer, E. Cormier, Liang Ssu Ch'eng, Le Corbusier, N. D. Bassov, H. Robertson, J. Vilamajo, Board of Design; United Nations Headquarters Planning Office (Wallace K. Harrison, Director; Max Abramovitz, Deputy), architects; Louis Skidmore, Gilmore Clarke, Ralph Walker, consultants. Plan and Section from Architectural Forum; photograph Ben Schnall 776 United Nations Headquarters, New York. View of the Secretariat and Three Plans of the Commissions Building. G. A. Soilleux, G. Brunfaut, O. Niemeyer, E. Cormier, Liang Ssu Ch'eng, Le Corbusier, N. D. Bassov, H. Robertson, J. Vilamajo, Board of Design; United Nations Headquarters Planning Office (Wallace K. Harrison, Director; Max Abramovitz, Deputy), architects; Louis Skidmore, Gilmore Clarke, Ralph Walker, consultants. Photograph courtesy United Nations Headquarters Planning Office 778, 779 Forum, Pompeii, Italy. Plan 783 Three Medieval City Halls; Plans: St. Antonin, France; from E. E. Viollet-Ie-Duc, Dictionnaire raisonné de Farchitecture française du XIe au XVIe siècle . . . (Paris: Bance and Morel, 1854-68). Breslau, East Prussia, 1350-1500; from Karl Gruber, Das deutsche Rathaus (Munich: Bruckmann [C1943]). Tangermünde, East Prussia; from F. Bluntschli, "Stadt und Rathäuser," Handbuch der Architektur, Part IV, See. IX, Vol. II, 2nd ed. (Stuttgart: Kröner, 1907) 784 Medieval City Halls: Lindau im Breisgau, Germany. Market Hall, Shrewsbury, England. Entrance Detail; Arras, France. Louvain, Belgium. Courtesy Ware Library 786 European City Halls: Exteriors from Brussels, Bruges, and Antwerp, in Belgium, and from Beauv^is, France. Salle des Fêtes, Hôtel de Ville, Paris. Courtesy Ware Library 788, 789 Old City Hall (now the New Bedford Public Library), New Bedford, Massachusetts. Exterior. Russell Warren, architect. Courtesy New Bedford Public Library 790 City Hall, New Orleans. Exterior. James Gallier, Sr., architect. Photograph Richard Koch 790 City Hall, New York. Competition Elevation and Plan. Mangin & McComb, architects; signed John McComb, Jr. Courtesy New-York Historical Society, New York City 791

ILLUSTRATIONS 21. City Hall, New York. Exterior. John McComb, Jr., architect. Pendleton drawing, courtesy Museum of the City of New York 22. City Hall, New York. Council Chamber. John McComb, Jr., architect. Courtesy Avery Library 23. Bryan Memorial Town Hall, Washington, Connecticut. Plans. Cameron Clark, architect 24. Bryan Memorial Town Hall, Washington, Connecticut. Two Exteriors. Cameron Clark, architect. Courtesy Cameron Clark 25. Hôtel de Ville, Boulogne-Billancourt, France. Entrance- and MainFloor Plans. Tony Gamier and J. Debat-Ponsan, architects. Redrawn from Architecte 26. Hôtel de Ville, Boulogne-Billancourt, France. Exterior and Interior Views. Tony Garnier and J. Debat-Ponsan, architects. From Architecte 27. Hornsey Town Hall, England. Two Plans. R. H. Uren, architect. From Architectes Journal 28. Hornsey Town Hall, England. Exterior. R. H. Uren, architect. From Architect's Journal 29. Hilversum Town Hall, the Netherlands. Two Plans. W. M. Dudok, architect 30. Hilversum Town Hall, the Netherlands. Exterior and Reception Hall. W. M. Dudok, architect. Exterior courtesy Netherlands Information Bureau; reception hall from Wendingen 31. City Hall, Los Angeles, California. Three Plans. John C. Austin, John Parkinson, and Albert C. Martin, associated architects 32. City Hall, Los Angeles, California. General View. John C. Austin, John Parkinson, and Albert C. Martin, associated architects. Photograph Ewing Galloway 33. City Hall, Fresno, California. Two Plans. Franklin & Kump and Associates, architects 34. City Hall, Fresno, California. Three Exteriors. Franklin & Kump and Associates, architects. Photographs Roger Sturtevant 35. City Hall, Fresno, California. Upper Landing and Council Chamber. Franklin & Kump and Associates, architects. Photographs Roger Sturtevant 36. City Hall, Fresno, California. Council Chamber and Corridor. Franklin & Kump and Associates, architects. Photographs Roger Sturtevant 37. City Hall, Fresno, California. Details of Entrance and of Hallway. Franklin & Kump and Associates, architects. Photographs Roger Sturtevant 538. Two French Courthouses: Palais de Justice, Rouen, Plan. Palais de Justice, Paris, Part Plan; Louis Joseph Due and Ernst Georges Coquart, architects. Redrawn from Guadet, Éléments et théorie . . .

xliii 792 792 795 796 798 799 800 801 802 803 804 805 806 807 808 809 810 815

xliv

ILLUSTRATIONS

539. Courthouse, Chester, Pennsylvania. Two Plans. From White Pine Series . . . Vol. XVI, No. 6, courtesy Russell F. Whitehead 540. Courthouse, Chester, Pennsylvania. Exterior View and Interior of a Courtroom. From White Pine Series . . . Vol. XVI, No. 6, courtesy Russell F. Whitehead 541. Courthouse, Lenox, Massachusetts. Exterior. Isaac Damon, architect. From White Pine Series . . . Vol. XVI, No. 6, courtesy Russell F. Whitehead 542. New York County Courthouse (Supreme Court), New York. Winning Competition Plan. Guy Lowell, architect. From Competition for the New York Courthouse MCMXIll, edited bv authority of the Court House Board (New York: Architectural Book Pub. Co., 1913) 543. New York County Courthouse (Supreme Court), New York. Exterior. Guy Lowell, architect. Photograph Ewing Galloway 544. Brooklyn Courthouse, New York. First-Floor Plan. Slee & Bryson, architects. From C. W. Short and R. Stanley-Brown, Public Buildings, a Survey of Architecture of Projects Constructed by Federal and Other Governmental Bodies . . . (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1939) 545. Tennessee Supreme Court, Nashville. First-Floor Plan. Emmons H. Woolwin, architect; Frederick C. Hirons, associate. From C. W. Short and R. Stanley-Brown, Public Buildings . . . 546. Racine County Courthouse, Racine, Wisconsin. Five Plans. Holabird & Root, architects 547. Racine County Courthouse, Racine, Wisconsin. Exterior View and Interior of a Courtroom. Holabird & Root, architects. Photographs Hedrich-Blessing 548. Hartford County Courthouse, Hartford, Connecticut. Three Plans. Paul P. Cret, architect; Smith & Bassette, associate architects 549. Hartford County Courthouse, Hartford, Connecticut. Exterior. Paul P. Cret, architect; Smith & Bassette, associate architects. Photograph Sigurd Fischer 550. Ramsey County Courthouse and St. Paul City Hall, St. Paul, Minnesota. Two Plans. Holabird & Root, architects 551. Ramsey County Courthouse and St. Paul City Hall, St. Paul, Minnesota. Exterior View and Interior of a Courtroom. Holabird & Root, architects. Photographs Hedrich-Blessing 552. United States Court and Post Office Building, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Plan and Section. The Ballinger Company and Harry Sternfeld, architects. From Progressive Architecture 553. United States Court and Post Office Building, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Elevation and Plan of a Judge's Bench. The Ballinger Company and Harry Sternfeld, architects. From Progressive Architecture

816 817 818

819 819

820 821 822 823 824 825 826 827 828

829

ILLUSTRATIONS Dauphin County Courthouse, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Four Plans. Lawrie & Green, architects 555. Dauphin County Courthouse, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. View of Exterior and of Pool. Lawrie & Green, architects. Photographs Sigurd Fischer 556. Dauphin County Courthouse, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Lobby, Law Library, and Judge's Office. Lawrie & Green, architects. Photographs Sigurd Fischer 557. Dauphin County Courthouse, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. T w o Courtroom Interiors. Lawrie & Green, architects. Photographs Sigurd Fischer 558. Delaware County Courthouse, Media, Pennsylvania. Three Plans. Clarence W . Brazer, architect 559. Delaware County Courthouse, Media, Pennsylvania. Interior of Courtroom. Clarence W . Brazer, architect. Courtesy Clarence W . Brazer 560. Criminal Courts Building, N e w York. Three Plans and Section. Harvey W . Corbett and Charles B. Meyers, architects 561. Criminal Courts Building, N e w York City. Exterior View and Interior of a Courtroom. Harvey W . Corbett and Charles B. Meyers, architects. Exterior photograph Ewing Galloway; interior photograph Sigurd Fischer 562. Monterey Courthouse, Salinas, California. Four Plans. Robert Stanton, architect 842, 563. Monterey Courthouse, Salinas, California. T w o Exteriors. Robert Stanton, architect. Photographs Maynard L . Parker 564. Suffolk County Courthouse Addition, Boston, Massachusetts. T w o Plans. Desmond & Lord, architects 565. Suffolk County Courthouse Addition, Boston, Massachusetts. Exterior. Desmond & Lord, architects. Photograph Clarke & Marks 566. Prison at Ghent, Belgium. Plan. M. Verlain, architect. From Alfred Hopkins, Prisons and Prison Building ( N e w York: Architectural Book Pub. Co., 1930) 567. Eastern State Penitentiary, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Plan. John Haviland, architect. From M. Demetz, Rapports . . . sur les penitenciers des États-Unis (Paris: Imprimerie Royale, 1837) 568. Eastern State Penitentiary, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Exterior. John Haviland, architect. From John Howard Hinton, The History and Topography of the United States . . . (Boston: Walker, 1844) 569. Old South Cell Hall, Auburn Prison, Auburn, New York. Interior. Courtesy American Prison Association 570. Federal Penitentiary, Terre Haute, Indiana. Interior of Cell Wing. Alfred Hopkins & Associates, architects. Courtesy Alfred Hopkins & Associates 571. Prison at Fresnes. Perspective. F.-H. Poussin, architect. From Alfred Hopkins. Prisons and Prison Building

xlv

554.

830

831

832 834 835 835 839

840 843 844 847 847

853

855

856 857

857 858

xlvi 572. 573. 574. 575.

576.

577.

578.

579.

580.

581.

582.

583.

584.

585.

ILLUSTRATIONS Federal Penitentiary, Lewisburg, Pennsylvania. Library Interior. Alfred Hopkins 8c Associates, architects. Courtesy Alfred Hopkins & Associates United States Disciplinary Barracks, Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Prison Hospital Plans. Alfred Hopkins & Associates, architects Proposed Maximum-Security Prison. Alfred Hopkins 8c Associates, architects. Courtesy Alfred Hopkins & Associates Combined Maximum-Medium-Security Institution, United States Disciplinary Barracks, Lompoc, California. Plan and Perspective. Alfred Hopkins & Associates, architects. Courtesy Alfred Hopkins 8c Associates ' 868, United States Penitentiary, Terre Haute, Indiana. Perspective. Alfred Hopkins & Associates, architects. Courtesy Alfred Hopkins 8c Associates Federal Detention Institution, Danbury, Connecticut. Perspective and Self-enclosing Plan. Alfred Hopkins 8c Associates, architects. Courtesy United States Department of Justice, Bureau of Prisons Medium-Minimum-Security Institution, Southampton Penitentiary Farm, Capron, Virginia. Plan. Carneal 8c Johnston, architects; Alfred Hopkins & Associates, consulting architects. Courtesv Alfred Hopkins 8c Associates Southampton Penitentiary Farm, Capron, Virginia. Perspective. Carneal 8c Johnston, architects; Alfred Hopkins 8c Associates, consulting architects. Courtesy Alfred Hopkins 8c Associates Proposed Minimum-Security Cottage-Type Institution, Pennsylvania Industrial School. Plan. Prack 8c Prack, architects; Alfred Hopkins 8c Associates, consulting architects. Courtesy Alfred Hopkins 8c Associates Pennsylvania Industrial School. Perspective. Prack 8c Prack, architects; Alfred Hopkins 8c Associates, consulting architects. Courtesy Alfred Hopkins 8c Associates Temporary Minimum-Security Camp, Federal Prison Camp, Mill Point, West Virginia. Plot Plan. Alfred Hopkins 8c Associates, architects. Courtesy United States Department of Justice, Bureau of Prisons Federal Prison Camp, Mill Point, West Virginia. Perspective. Alfred Hopkins 8c Associates, architects. Courtesy United States Department of Justice, Bureau of Prisons Federal Penitentiary, Terre Haute, Indiana. Dining-Hall Interior. Alfred Hopkins 8c Associates, architects. Courtesy Alfred Hopkins 8c Associates Federal Penitentiary, Terre Haute, Indiana. Plan of Kitchen. Alfred Hopkins 8c Associates, architects. Courtesv Alfred Hopkins 8c Associates

859 861 866

869

870

871

872

872

873

874

87 s

875

876

877

ILLUSTRATIONS

xlvii

586. Federal Penitentiary, Terre Haute, Indiana. Kitchen Interior. Alfred Hopkins & Associates, architects. Courtesy Alfred Hopkins & Associates 878 587. Roman Forum, Restored Governmental Buildings. Courtesy School of Architecture, Columbia University 880 588. Federal Loan Agency Building, Washington. Plan. A. R. Clas, architect; Holabird & Root, associate architects. From Architectural Forum 884 589. Federal Loan Agency Building, Washington. General View. A. R. Clas, architect; Holabird & Root, associate architects. Photograph Harris •& F.wing 884 590. Pentagon Building, Arlington, Virginia. Air View. G. E. Bergstrom and David J. Witmer, chief architects. Photograph Ewing Galloway 885 591. Pentagon Building, Arlington, Virginia. General View. G. E. Bergstrom and David J. Witmer, chief architects. Photograph Ewing Galloway 885 592. Ministry of Education and Health, Rio de Janeiro. Three Plans and a Section. Lucio Costa, Oscar Niemeyer, Alfredo Reidy, Carlos Leâo, and Jorge Moreira, architects 886 593. Ministry of Education and Health, Rio de Janeiro. Exterior. Lucio Costa, Oscar Niemeyer, Alfredo Reidy, Carlos Leäo, and Jorge Moreira, architects; photograph G. E. Kidder Smith, courtesy G. E. Kidder Smith and Museum of Modern Art, New York 887 594. Federal Building, Los Angeles, California. Exterior. Gilbert Stanley Underwood, architect; Louis A. Simon, supervising architect. Courtesy Gilbert Stanley Underwood 887 59j. New York State Office Building, New York. Two Plans. W. E. Haugaard, architect 888 596. New York State Office Building, New York. Exterior. W. E. Haugaard, architect. Photograph Ewing Galloway 888 597. State Capitol Group, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Photograph of Model. William Gehron, architect. Photograph Louis H. Dreyer 889 598. Education Building, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Exterior, Ceiling, and Forum. William Gehron, architect. Courtesy William Gehron 890 599. Finance Building, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. First-Floor Plan. William Gehron, architect. From C. W. Short and R. Stanley-Brown, Public Buildings . . . 891 600. Finance Building, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Revenue Collections Room, Treasurer's Office, Hearing Room, and Office of the Secretary of Revenue. William Gehron, architect. Photographs Sigurd Fischer 892 601. Capitol Park and Capitol Park Extension, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. General Plan. William Gehron, architect. Photograph Louis H. Dreyer 893

xlviii 602. 603.

604.

605.

606. 607. 608. 609. 610. 611. 612.

613. 614. 615. 616.

617. 618. 619.

ILLUSTRATIONS Municipal Building, Houston, Texas. Exterior View and Interior of Lobby. Joseph Finger, Inc., architects. Photographs Elwood M. Payne 894 Queens Borough Hall, Kew Gardens, New York. First- and SecondFloor Plans. William Gehron and A. J . Thomas, architects. From Architectural Record 895 Queens Borough Hall, Kew Gardens, New York. Front and Rear Exteriors. William Gehron and A. J. Thomas, architects. Photographs Sigurd Fischer 896 Queens Borough Hall, Kew Gardens, New York. Lobby and Tax Room. William Gehron and A. J . Thomas, architects. Photographs Sigurd Fischer 897 Suggested Plans for a Tax and License Bureau and for Building Departments. William Gehron, architect 898 Suggested Plans for Offices of Department Heads and for a QuasiJudicial Area. William Gehron, architect 899 Suggested Plans for Typical Office Space and File Rooms. William Gehron, architect 899 Suggested Plans for the Interior of a Vault and for the Truck Delivery Area. William Gehron, architect 900 Capitol Park, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Bird's-eye View. William Gehron, architect. Courtesy William Gehron 902 Civic Center, Detroit, Michigan. Photograph of Model. Saarinen, Swanson & Saarinen, architects. Photograph Hedrich-Blessing 904 Proposed State Office Building, Montgomery, Alabama. Perspective. Clyde C. Pearson, Farrow L. Tittle, Chris J. Sherlock, and Moreland Griffith Smith, architects; Edward D. Stone, consultant. Photograph 905 Scott, DeMotte & Perry Education Building, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Detail of Forum. William Gehron, architect. Courtesy William Gehron 906 Post Office, Rampart, Alaska. Exterior. Courtesy United States Post Office Department 910 Plan of One-Man-Type Post Office. Courtesy United States Post Office Department 911 Perspective of One-Man-Type Post Office. Gilbert Stanley Underwood, supervising architect. Courtesy United States Post Office Department 911 Multiple-Type Post Office. Plan. Gilbert Stanley Underwood, supervising architect. Courtesy United States Post Office Department 912 Sketch of Multiple-Tvpe Post Office. Gilbert Stanley Underwood, supervising architect. Courtesy United States Post Office Department 913 Los Angeles Post Office and Courthouse. Main-Floor Plan. Gilbert Stanley Underwood, architect; Louis A. Simon, supervising architect. Courtesy United States Post Office Department 914

ILLUSTRATIONS

xlix

620. Los Angeles Federal Building (Post Office and Courthouse). Exterior. Gilbert Stanley Underwood, architect; Louis A. Simon, supervising architect. Courtesy United States Post Office Department 914 621. Old Post Office and Courthouse, Los Angeles, California. Exterior. James Knox Taylor, supervising architect. Courtesy United States Post Office Department 915 622. Postal Station in a Large City. Two Plans 918 623. New York Customs House. Main-Floor Plan. Cass Gilbert, architect; James Knox Taylor, supervising architect. Courtesy United States Treasury Department 924 624. New York Customs House. Exterior. Cass Gilbert, architect; James Knox Taylor, supervising architect. Courtesy United States Treasury Department 925 625. Appraisers Building, San Francisco, California. Main-Floor Plan. Gilbert Stanley Underwood, architect; Louis A. Simon, supervising architect. Courtesy United States Treasury Department 926 626. Appraisers Building, San Francisco, California. Exterior. Gilbert Stanley Underwood, architect; Louis A. Simon, supervising architect. Courtesy United States Treasury Department 927 627. Customs House, Boston, Massachusetts. Exterior. Ammi B. Young and Peabody & Stearns, architects; James Knox Taylor, supervising architect. Courtesy United States Treasury Department 927 628. "Paul Bunyan Straightening Out the Round River," by Milton Horn, United States Post Office, Iron River, Michigan. Photograph Estelle Horn 928 629. Wall Paintings in the United States Post Office on East 23rd Street, New York. Lorimer Rich, architect; Kindred McLeary, painter. Photograph Robert Damora 929

PART I

Buildings for Residence THE INDIVIDUAL HOUSE BY GEORGE NELSON

THE APARTMENT HOUSE B Y JOSEPH HENRY ABEL

HOTELS AND APARTMENT HOTELS B Y JOHN WELLBORN ROOT

CAMPS AND DORMITORIES B Y ANTONIN RAYMOND AND HERMANN H. FIELD

PROBLEMS OF MASS SHELTER B Y HENRY S. CHURCHILL

LAYOUT OF RESIDENTIAL COMMUNITIES B Y J . MARSHALL

MILLER

RURAL ARCHITECTURE AND FARM PLANNING BY J .

ROBERT DODGE

N

O W H E R E does the architect's influence permeate society more deeply than in buildings where people live. Whatever the make-up of society may be, the place of residence—the home—makes an indelible impress upon the spirit of mankind. Squalor and congestion in the home leave deep scars on the individual; beauty and space make all of life happier and more creative. The experiences of early childhood establish psychological patterns that endure to bless or curse, and among those experiences the forms and shapes and colors of the child's home are not the least important. Because this is so, the architect has here a challenging opportunity. He dictates the shapes and colors; he divides space to make it both orderly and usable. He not only gives form to the ideals of dwelling houses which society at any time holds but also, through his work, helps to create the ideals themselves. He must always be the enemy of smug self-content; must always fight for a better, more convenient, and more beautiful human environment. He must help to find ways in which the physical goods and the mechanical aids that industry invents can be used to make the home more fit and emotionally more inspiring. T o do this, the architect must know the society of which he is a part; even more, he must understand people as individuals, must realize and savor their endless variations. In every case, as far as possible, the architect must seek to create that kind of residence which will make the dweller himself more free, more serene, more beneficent and social-minded—in a word, a better man— and his life richer and more creative. The modern industrial age tends to think of houses as salable or rentable assemblages of space-saving, work-savjng, and comfort-making gadgets. The architect, on the other hand, must think of residential buildings as ways toward a juality of human living. He must put first not the gadget but the person who uses it, not the thing but the whole human being. Each individual, the architect must realize, has imagination, memory, a thirst for beauty, and an emotional life that for him is the primary value. And the architect must know that when

he designs a dwelling a sizable part of the quality of this emotional life lies in his hands, for by his designs he will direct and fertilize it. Many types of residential buildings are intricate technical problems. The contemporary hotel and the apartment house are notably complex, specialized, and demanding in their challenge to the designer. The particular considerations that surround the vexing problems of mass housing, both urban and rural, are many and difficult—the designing of summer camps, for example, has become almost a specialized field—and even in the individual house the architect must always struggle with questions of space versus economy. Naturally the contributors of the chapters dealing with these various aspects of the dwelling have been forced to stress the technical complexities of their subjects; no other treatment could be so useful. Nevertheless the architect, when faced with the design of a dwelling, must see all phases of the problem in proportion. He must know the technical aspects, but he must never allow himself to be dominated by them. He must always realize, deeply and continuously, that they are but means to the end of complete living; he must use them to create the most human and the most beautiful environment within his power.

author of the chapter "The Individual House," is engaged in the practice of architecture and industrial design in New York. He has been the architect of many houses and commercial interiors and a designer of furniture, exhibits, advertisements, accessories for home use and other industrial products. He was formerly a design instructor in Columbia University, a managing editor of the Architectural Forum, and co-author of Tomorrow's House (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1945). GEORGE NELSON, A.I.A.,

author of the chapter "The Apartment House," is a member of the firm of Berla & Abel, the designers of the Shoreham Hotel and many important apartment houses in the Washington area. He is an authority on many aspects of apartment house design and co-author of Aparttnent Houses (New York: Reinhold, 1947). J O S E P H H E N R Y A B E L , A.I.A.,

WELLBORN ROOT, F.A.I.A., author of the chapter "Hotels and Apartment Hotels," is the senior partner in the architectural firm of Holabird, Root & Burgee, of Chicago, the designers of numerous public and commercial buildings and many hotels, including the Stevens and the Palmer House in Chicago and the Statler in Washington. He is a member of the Chicago Plan Commission. JOHN

co-author of the chapter "Camps and Dormitories," came to the United States in 1910. He is the senior member of Antonin Raymond & Ladislav Rado, architects, of New York, and has practiced in Japan, India, and the United States. His work has embraced buildings of many kinds, including, during the Second World War, several major camp layouts and other structures of national importance. ANTONIN R A Y M O N D , A.I.A.,

H E R M A N N H. FIELD, co-author of the chapter "Camps and Dormitories," has been especially interested in problems of housing, city planning, and reconstruction. He has served as architectural research director for Cleveland College, Western Reserve University, and was formerly an editor of the magazine Task. H E N R Y S. CHURCHILL, F.A.I.A., A.I.P., author of the chapter "Problems of Mass Shelter," is a member of Churchill-Fulmer Associates, New York. He has been the designer of many large housing projects and a practicing city planner. He has served as a consultant for governmental housing agencies and as a member of the Architects Advisory Committee of the United States Housing Authority and the Federal Public Housing Authority, has lectured widely on housing problems, and is an Associate in Architecture at Columbia University. He is the author of The City Is the People (New York: Reynal & Hitchcock [ C 1 9 4 5 ] ) .

j. MARSHALL MILLER, A.LP., author of the chapter "Layout of Residential Communities," is Associate Professor of Planning and Director of the Planning and Housing Division of the School of Architecture, Columbia University. He is the author of numerous articles in the field of community planning and was formerly a staff member of the American Society of Planning Officials. For several years he was Planning Director of Pasadena, California. j. ROBERT DODGE, author of the chapter "Rural Architecture and Farm Planning," is in charge of the Rural Housing and Plan Exchange of the United States Department of Agriculture. He is the author of numerous publications and articles on farm housing and is responsible for a program of governmental research in the design of farmhouses.

I

The Individual House By G E O R G E N E L S O N

D

E S P I T E the fact that people have lived in houses of one sort or another since they moved out of cave dwellings, the single house as an important division of architecture goes back only a few centuries. Its architectural significance, in fact, may be very closely related to the emergence of the individual. During the Middle Ages, for example, the private home was completely overshadowed by the castle (primarily a fortress) and by the church or cathedral (the focus of communal activities and an expression of those ideas which gave meaning to medieval existence). It was not until the Reformation or the Renaissance that modern man, as a self-conscious individual with aspirations toward economic and political freedom, appeared. And one of the demands made by this individual was for a home of his own.

T h e private dwelling antedates the Reformation by thousands of years, of course, but the point here made is that socially, and therefore architecturally, it was subordinated to other types of building which were considered by the community to be far more important. The explorations of archaeologists have turned up quantities of data on homes which antedate the Christian era, and these discoveries indicate with a fair degree of clarity the manner in which people lived, the kinds of rooms they had in their dwellings, the basic plans, and even the structural systems. It has been further demonstrated that many temple forms evolved directly from houses; this was natural enough since the temple was usually considered the home of the god. There were magnificent villas in ancient Rome and some outstanding town houses in medieval Europe, but it was generally the temple that was given priority by society, and it was the temple that influenced later architectural developments. Even in ancient Rome, where community life shows resemblances to contemporary society that are not entirely superficial and where the temple was supplemented by the baths and aqueducts, houses as architectural problems worthy

8

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

of the attention of an architect were few and were confined to a small segment of the population. T o realize the full extent of the shift in emphasis since that time, it need only be recalled that Frank Lloyd Wright and Le Corbusier both developed theories which have influenced the entire world of architecture largely as a result of their study of the design problems presented by the individual private house. The stages by which the house of today evolved represent an exceedingly wide range of development, and at the risk of oversimplification only a few of them will be touched upon here. The Italian Renaissance marked the first time in Europe that the house architecturally took precedence over the church or temple. T o be sure, this "house" was in reality a palace or villa and it was still limited to a minute fraction of the population. Nevertheless such buildings, which were scattered all the way from Venice to Palermo, not only marked the emergence of a new economic class of sufficient wealth to build them but also signaled the social acceptance of the idea of the private dwelling, and their influence on later work of all kinds was prodigious. In England, where by 1800 the country house had reached a high point of development, a distinct evolutionary process was apparent which began with the private fortress and ended with houses that showed no traces of the original need for protection from attack. Here again we have visible evidence of social changes—the centralization of power in a monarchy which policed the entire country and established considerable security for individuals and also the spreading of wealth over a larger segment of the population. The entire process was vastly accelerated by the Industrial Revolution, which, in addition to pauperizing the peasantry, created a middle and an upper-middle class sufficiently affluent to command the talents of the best architects of the time. The row houses of the Regency, at the beginning of the nineteenth century, bear witness to this later development. The Industrial Revolution, like all revolutions, not only established in power a class that was not too sure of itself in the use of its new wealth but also destroyed the basis on which the previous tradition had been established. In architecture the result was a sudden upsurge of eclecticism and those rapid shifts in taste from one style to another which culminated in the buildings of the Classic Revival and Victorian periods, now rather affectionately derided as naive monstrosities. It is true that the efforts lumped under the heading of "Victorian" appear singularly ugly and tasteless to the contemporary eye, even though their value as documents on the cultural state of the late nine-

THE INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

9

teenth century is accepted. It is equally true that the Classic Revival had leaned so heavily on its prototypes that one can hardly think of it as a period of radical experimentation. Nevertheless, mixed in with the Greek façades, the romantic turrets, the stained-glass windows, and the tortured woodwork of those periods were many of the seeds of contemporary architecture. Nineteenth-century architecture abandoned the rules and precepts which had given dignity and order to earlier types of building. In this process new conditions of freedom were created, and, although the resultant architecture seems chaotic, the general direction was constructive and creative. For example, a typical ground-floor plan for the larger houses of the period consists of a series of rooms connected by large openings. This sprawling plan was due partly to the loss of earlier disciplines but chiefly to the invention of central heating, which removed the necessity for small, tightly closed rooms. But it is that plan which in turn has made possible the development of the concept of the "open plan," one of the fundamental ideas in contemporary architecture. Other elements in the later nineteenth-century houses prove on further examination to be less arbitrary and whimsical than they appear at first sight. A m o n g these are fixed picture windows, large panes of glass in movable sash, sliding doors to close off rooms, and the use of windows in long rows without the customary intervening wall spaces. Such elements have become an integral part of the modern design vocabulary. DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE IN THE UNITED STATES

In the fact that nearly every section of the United States shows examples of residential subdivisions dotted with little houses which before the Second World W a r were being sold at prices as low as $2,995, w e have not only evidence of a social situation in which at least half the population can acquire a private, detached dwelling but also proof of a very strong general desire for individual homes. Like many emotional attitudes, this desire is not always solidly based. Often the houses are so closely spaced on their small plots that the advantages of privacy are all but lost; better living could be provided at lower cost by row houses. T o the average Iower-middle-class citizen, however, the row house presents connotations he does not like; it is the detached dwelling which stands in his mind as an incontrovertible symbol of successful respectability. This prejudice is reinforced by the activities of the home magazines and the speculative builders. T h e "style" of the typical small dwelling is usually "Colonial" and evidences

IO

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

FIGURE I . HOUSE OF T H E EARLY CLASSIC REVIVAL, WICKFORD, RHODE

ISLAND

T h e simple straightforward nature of the early Classic Revival house. Photograph Talbot Hamlin

a rather pathetic attempt to re-create something of the stability, security, and graciousness of the bygone period when Colonial was a valid architectural expression of building techniques and community attitudes. That this style should be so popular at present is interesting, for it is by no means an unbroken continuation from the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries but rather a revival which dates back only to the First World War. The period of traditional building came to an end in this country before 1850 and was followed by a feverish series of experiments in every known style. Greek, Gothic, Italian, French, Spanish, and even Persian prototypes were copied and mutilated by builders searching for novelty to lure consumers eager for a suitably picturesque expression of their new-found wealth and power. The nineteenthcentury heirs of the Industrial Revolution must have had a carefully suppressed guilty conscience, for their homes were designed to look anything but the dwellings of coal, steel, and railroad magnates. Nevertheless the innumerable expressions of the architectural escapism of the time contained, as we have seen, many of the seeds of a genuinely contemporary style; they led directly to the pioneering work of men like Richardson, Sullivan, and Wright and to an extraordinary efflorescence of invention in house types

THE INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

il

FIGURE 2. A VICTORIAN HOUSE DESIGN Singularly uglv and tasteless to the contemporary eye. From Croff, Progressive Afiierican

Architecture

. . .

between 1890 and 1910, particularly in the designs of the so-called Chicago School and in the Pacific Coast work of men like Maybeck. The work of these innovators, however, which developed so boldly and beautifully the

12

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

FIGURE 3. AN OPEN VICTORIAN PLAN A series of rooms connected by large openings. From Brunner, Cottages or Hints on Economical Building . . .

elements of an existing folk architecture, did not entirely suit the spirit of the time, and the Chicago World's Fair of 1893 marked the beginning of a nationwide shift to a kind of denatured classicism. It was not mere coincidence that this period also saw the beginning of violent expressions of social unrest in the form of bloody strikes, riots, and left-wing political activity. The "robber barons," who had demonstrated their uninhibited delight in money and power, were succeeded by a new generation which had begun to develop concern about its ability to retain those perquisites. A dry and ponderously restrained classicism was an appropriate three-dimensional expression of this fear. (More recently, in Europe, a similar shift in official architecture took place under Hitler, and for much the same reason.) Under such circumstances there was no opportunity for the efforts of men like Sullivan and Wright to bear fruit, and their influence was first felt not in the United States but in western Europe.

THE INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

FIGURE 4 . PART OF QUEENS, N E W

The advantages of privacy are all but lost.

«3

YORK

Courtesy Daily Newt

T o a n y o n e interested in s t u d y i n g domestic architecture f r o m the sociopsychological point of v i e w , the popularity of the pseudo-Colonial small house is astonishingly revealing. T h a t the generation w h i c h concocted the atom b o m b and shot radar impulses to the m o o n should choose to inhabit dwellings reminiscent of the time of C o t t o n M a t h e r cannot be explained in any but emotional terms. A n d , though the f u l l a n s w e r is complex, it boils d o w n to an inability to c o m p r e h e n d the w o r l d as it is, a lack of faith in the path along which

«4

FIGURE J

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

( L E F T ) . A TYPICAL CAPE COD COTTAGE

An attempt to re-create something of the graciousness of a bygone period. From Architectural FIGURE 6

( R I G H T ) . S U M M E R COTTAGE, BEVERLY

FARMS,

Forum

MASSACHUSETTS

H . H . Richardson, architect Independent design based on site and materials.

FIGURE 7 . BINGHAM HOUSE, SANTA BARBARA,

Courtesy Ware Library

CALIFORNIA

Bernard R. Mavbeck, architect Farlv creative house design on the Pacific Coast.

Courtesy Jean Murrav Bangs

THE INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

'5

FIGURE 8. BRADLEY WOODS HOLE,

HOUSE,

MASSACHU-

SETTS. EXTERIOR AND LIVING ROOM

Purcel) & F'.liuslie, architects A "Chicago School" summer house on the New England shore. Courtesy Progressive Architecture

our technology is taking us, and a deep fear of the insecurities inherent in our economic order. On no other basis is it possible to comprehend the amazing contradiction of the twentieth-century business man in the United States returning each night to a home the entire appearance of which has been calculated to produce the impression that he is one of the Pilgrim Fathers. There is another contradiction which has been remarked upon more frequently—the discrepancy between the handicraft methods by which today's homes are built and the prevailing level of industrial technology. T h e automobile, in 1910, was a hand-built, motorized buggy—comparable, in other words, to the 1 9 1 0 house. T o d a y the house is roughly the same, except for more refined equipment, whereas the car has been entirely transformed by the industrial process. One picture of what the house could be like may be seen in the illustration of Buckminster Fuller's conception (Fig. 10). Technologically this house is not only a brilliant design but also an honest expression of

i6

BUILDINGS FOR

RESIDENCE

FIGURE 9 . LLOYD HOUSE,

LEWIS

LIBERTYVILLE,

ILLINOIS. EXTERIOR INTERIOR OF

AND

LIVING-DINING

ROOM

Frank Lloyd Wright, architect A more recent example of independent house design. Photographs Hedrich-Blessing, courtesy Architectural Forum

the kind of thing that could happen if houses were produced like other industrial products. T o date, however, no manufacturer has shown himself willing to risk an investment of the millions of dollars necessary for tooling, and at least part of the reason lies in the widespread emotional attitudes already noted. T o the limited extent that industry has participated in the residential field, it has done extremely well. Both kitchens and bathrooms are full of mass-produced industrial products; heating and lighting equipment also fall into this category, and even parts of the shell—such as windows—are often

THE INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

FIGURE

IO. D Y M A X I O N

HOUSE. UNDER

'7

CONSTRUCTION

Buckminster Fuller, designer A n honest expression of the kind o f thing that w o u l d happen if houses were p r o d u c e d like industrial p r o d u c t s . L i f e P h o t o b y C o f f e y , courtesy Life

industrially produced. At the point where buyer resistance is feared, that is, in the shell of the house and its external and internal appearance, industry cuts short its activities. Actually the Colonial house, whose meaning has been so thoroughly degraded by present-day builders and architects, was in its time a magnificently functional dwelling. Its small rooms and low ceilings were a necessary consequence of inadequate heating facilities. Its small-paned windows reflected the cost and difficulty of obtaining large sheets of glass. Materials, whether New England wood or Pennsylvania stone or Virginia brick, were always used with a sensitive appreciation of their limitations. Moreover, a slow progress, covering generations, gradually developed in the woodworkers and masons a high degree of competence and taste, and the few basic designs then current were worked over again and again until the houses reached a high level of refinement. T h e dwellings of that period also show that fundamental living patterns have not changed so much as might have been expected in two hundred years: any number of people have found that these houses convert with unexpected ease when taken over for present-day use. One major difference is found in the role formerly assigned to the kitchen, which was not only the foodpreparation center but the real living and dining room as well; the parlor.

i8

BUILDINGS FOR

RESIDENCE

FIGURE I I . P R I M I T I V E ROUND HOUSES. ESKIMO IGLOO AND MONGOLIAN

YURT

Round house types evolved to meet special conditions. Igloo courtesy Smithsonian Institution; Yurt courtesy American Museum of Natural History, New York

superficially the equivalent of the modern living room, was a show place, used only on those rare occasions when formal entertainment was required. Elsewhere the houses of the Colonial period show qualities similar to those found in New England. Southern dwellings occasionally reveal special characteristics, such as a kitchen housed in a separate building at some distance from the main house, an arrangement workable only in a warm climate and under a slave economy; porches, porticos, high ceilings, and large windows also reflect climatic influences. T h e early houses of the Southwest display features that were most judiciously developed for the region; adobe, for instance, was not merely a cheaply obtained and easily worked material, but the very thickness it required in the walls helped equalize indoor temperatures during blistering days and cold nights. T h e patio was a Mediterranean form appropriately introduced by the Spanish settlers; it had been developed originally not solely to provide through ventilation for all rooms but more especially to assure strict seclusion for family activities (particularly those involving the women) in accordance with social custom. T h e revival of the patio

T H E INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

19

idea in modern houses in California and the Southwest illustrates the persistent influence of the climatic factor, and the main social attitude involved here is the contemporary emphasis on outdoor living. T H E BASIS OF T H E C O N T E M P O R A R Y

HOUSE

If considerable space has been given to a general discussion of historical types, it has been for the twofold purpose of emphasizing as strongly as possible the essentially functional character of all domestic work, regardless of period, and of stressing the persistence of certain solutions for living—again regardless of period. So much propaganda has been spread both for and against the modem house that the layman is likely to acquire the idea that here is a revolutionary type of dwelling which breaks with the past at every point. In this section and those which follow, the thesis will be offered that the modern house fits logically into an age-old tradition of honest and beautiful building—an argument advanced notwithstanding the fact that many modern houses are neither honest nor beautiful. Despite the uniformity of the underlying requirements for any house—to shelter a family and to provide for its necessary activities—the form this shelter can take will vary greatly. In most countries it is considered axiomatic, for example, that a house shall be composed of flat planes and straight lines. This concept, however, would be totally useless to the Eskimo, whose domed dwelling has rigorously evolved through the conditions of Arctic living. It would be equally ineffective if applied to the problems of the Mongolian tribes, whose ellipsoidal yurt has the light weight, insulating value, resistance to wind, and mobility required for a nomadic existence on the great plains of northern Asia (see Fig. 1 1 ) . Thus there is no virtue in any concept of house form save in reference to a specific set of conditions. The conditions which have fostered the growth of the modern house fall into a number of easily defined categories—technological, social, and psychological. Although, as stated above, the modern house is still basically a handicraft product, it nevertheless exists in a highly developed industrial society where all sorts of new building possibilities exist. For example, if a man wants a house which is open on the ground floor (Fig. 12) and closed on the second, he can easily satisfy this desire by using a number of well-known construction methods in steel, concrete, or some combination of both. Obviously the appearance of the finished house will present a startling contrast to the traditional dwelling,

FIGURE

1 2 . SAVOYE HOUSE,

POISSY-SUR-SE1NE, FRANCE. T H R E E

PLANS

Le Corbusier, architect A house open on the ground floor and closed on the second, showing interesting open planning. From Le Corbusier et Pierre / earmerei, oeuvre complète, 1929-193$

the walls of which rise straight from the foundations; but a house conceived as an affair on stilts should no more try to look like a "period" house than a giraffe should be expected to resemble a dachshund. T h e list of such technical possibilities is a long one. Thanks to improved heating systems, insulation, and research on solar radiation it is feasible in northern climates to build houses with an unprecedented amount of glass in the walls. It is possible to build a house without a stick of wood in it; to install

T H E INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

FIGURE

1 3 . SAVOYE HOUSE,

POISSY-SUR-SEINE,

FRANCE.

EXTERIOR AND LIVING ROOM Le Corbusier, architect Large glass areas distinguish many twentieth-century houses. Courtesy Museum of Modern Art, New York

FIGURE

14.

HOWARD SLOAN HOUSE,

NEAR

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS. PLAN George Fred Keck, architect A house plan based on a desire for sunlight; an attempt to eliminate the line between indoors and outdoors. From Pencil

Points

electric heating; to motorize windows so that they operate on a push button. It is not difficult to build a basementless house that will be comfortable in winter, or to provide flat roofs that will neither leak nor get too hot. Rooms

BUILDINGS FOR

22

FIGURE

IJ.

HOWARD SLOAN

HOUSE,

NEAR

RESIDENCE

CHICAGO,

W I T H CONVENTIONAL WINDOWS AND, AS B U I L T ,

ILLINOIS.

W I T H GLASS

LIVING

ROOM

WALL

George Fred Keck, architect T h e same living room with vertical old-fashioned windows set up temporarily, and, as built, with a glass wall. Photographs Hedrich-Blessing

requiring quiet can be sound-proofed, and adjacent rooms can be shut off or merged at will by means of movable partitions which a child can handle. Much of this kind of thing is gadgetry, and expensive gadgetry to boot, but

T H E INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

FIGURE 1 6 . TUGENDHAT HOUSE, BRNO, CZECHOSLOVAKIA. PLANS Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, architect Framed construction, with exposed columns and open planning. From Hitchcock and Johnson, The International Style

the examples serve to illustrate the point that many resources which did not exist in earlier periods are available to the contemporary architect. By the end of the 1930's it had become clear that the more advanced architects throughout the world were in fairly general agreement on the applicabil-

BUILDINGS FOR

FIGURE

RESIDENCE

1 7 . KOCH HOUSE, B E L M O N T , MASSACHUSETTS. OFFICE

Carl Koch, architect The outdoors brought within the house.

Photograph Ezra Stoller—Pictorial Services

ity of these resources, and the fundamental unanimity of these designers was expressed in the modern house. Its characteristics are familiar: a total absence of designed ornament; in some places a tendency toward frame rather than bearing-wall construction; an open plan; horizontal rather than vertical window openings; attempts to eliminate a hard-and-fast separation of indoors and outdoors (through such devices as all-glass walls); and the use—in both plans and elevations—of forms which originated in modern painting and sculpture. Houses which conform to this general description can be found in almost every country in the world (Figs. 1 2 - 1 6 , 29). T o the limited extent that industrial resources have been utilized by modern architects they have been used for a definite purpose, and this purpose stems from factors that are social rather than technological. During the period covered roughly by the two world wars and the time between, the upperincome groups were deprived of their servants (through the development of more attractive job opportunities for women and the restriction of immigra-

FIGURE 18. ROW HOUSE DESIGNED FOR THE

Ladies' Home Journal,

PLANS

Vernon DeMars, architect A small row house ingeniously planned to combine small size with maximum usefulness. Courtesy Ladies' Home journal

tion) and of much of their income (through taxation). As a result, for this class large houses have become unmanageable and consequently unfashionable. When L e Corbusier announced that a house was "a machine for living" he deeply shocked the sentimental but he also expressed a feeling, which had already become fairly widespread, that houses had to become more efficient in terms of maintenance. T h e factors which hurried the rich into smaller dwellings did not operate in the middle-income groups, but with these the same thing happened as women entered upon more and more kinds of jobs. It was no longer unusual to find moderately prosperous families in which both the husbands and the wives worked, and here also the need was felt for a home which could be run with an absolute minimum of effort. There was still a third element in the picture of the rapidly shrinking house: A t the turn of the century the larger part of the sum spent for a home went for actual shelter, but by 1940 equipment of all kinds was taking a deep cut out of the budget. A maximum of equipment was demanded, for it reduced housekeeping problems; but in most cases it also reduced the amount of money available for the shelter itself. T o the extent that social life shifted from the home to public restaurants, movies, automobiles, and so on, the need for house space diminished—at least many like to think so. T h e final push has been given by the collapse of our

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE FIGURE 1 9 . ROW HOUSE DESIGNED FOR THE

Ladies' Home Journal. STREET

AND GARDEN

VIEWS

Vernon DeMare, architect The chief living rooms open on the private rear yard; the street front is reserved for garage, entrance, and service. Courtesy Ladies' Home Journal

whole economy: during depression years the best the average family could afford was a minimum dwelling; today, at mid-century, though there is a high degree of prosperity, inflated building costs are fostering the same trend. A small house, however, does not necessarily mean an uncomfortable house. It was Josef Hoffmann in Vienna w h o observed, toward the beginning of the century, that the constricted area of a box at the opera was tolerable because the box opened onto a vast interior. T h e same principle has been applied to the small house; a room may be small, but with a large window opening on a garden it feels bigger. Again, it is not uncommon to see several small rooms so designed that they can be merged into one large room—a similar method of achieving a sense of increased space. W e have already seen how psychological factors—most of them fears resulting from a feeling of insecurity—have tended to keep "period" house designs in use right up to the present. Paradoxically the same set of fears has also greatly helped the growth of the modern house. T h e widespread anxiety that

THE INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

27

dominates so large a part of the life of the nation can be traced to a loss of faith in economic and political institutions. Nobody believes any more that we are moving without interruption toward ever increasing prosperity, as did Prince Albert in 1851 and even Herbert Hoover in 1932. T h e machinery of capitalism has broken down too often, and each collapse has been worse than the preceding one. N o r do many people believe that the last two "wars to end w a r " have achieved that goal. This loss of faith is evident nor only in the lowerincome group» but also among business and government leaders, whose public utterances frequently verge on the hysterical. Although the fears that result have produced a widespread escapism they have also led to a search for new values—which may be religious, political, aesthetic, or all three. T h e modern house is part of that search, for it not only expresses the conviction of the importance of living a full life but is also an attempt to find a more satisfactory framework for such a life. Even the severe, almost ascetic appearance of the contemporary house fits into this picture, for here we have the definite expression of a dissatisfaction with values based on money and power. Because of its extreme simplicity the modern house has often been compared to the operating room of a hospital, but the monastic cell is a far more valid analogy. ANALYSIS O F T H E C O N T E M P O R A R Y

HOUSE

T h e requirements of the twentieth-century family are to a large extent what the family has always demanded: provisions for sleeping, cooking, eating, bathing, study, work, social activities, and relaxation. Ideally these activities should be taken care of in a series of distinct areas, but this is virtually impossible now because of the cost of building and the difficulties of maintenance; hence the functions of rooms are often combined. In several important respects, however, the living requirements of a family today differ from those which were common a century ago. For one thing, a much larger proportion of the population has been educated and a great deal more time is spent in reading. A cultivated family of the late 1700's might have owned perhaps a few dozen books —the chief of which would have been a large Bible—all of which were read and reread until almost committed to memory. Today a cultivated family is likely to o w n a sizable library and to subscribe to a number of magazines. T h e storage problem entailed introduces a new element in planning which has to be taken care of by either the architecture or the furniture, or perhaps by both. Home movies, television sets, radios, and record players offer a kind of entertainment not formerly available, and these also introduce a complicating

28

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

element in planning. In addition, much household machinery has to be integrated with the plan. Business today is carried on under a considerable degree of tension and has therefore created a greater need for quiet and privacy in the home than existed before. The increasing number of community activities undertaken by individuals also creates home-planning problems which range from the need to provide for an extra desk to the necessity for spaces large enough to accommodate committee meetings. The results of shifts of this kind in living patterns can be seen clearly in the plan of the modern house, and particularly in the living-room area. Living Roam. The contemporary living room is always as large as the owners can afford to make it. More often than not it includes dining space. In some extreme instances it is even merged with the kitchen, and it is frequently linked by means of a plate-glass wall to a porch, terrace, or garden. This room houses an astonishing variety of activities. It is used for games (from bridge to ping-pong), for study, reading, and lounging, for cocktail parties, family meals, and formal dinners, and even for teen-age dancing. Its furniture includes storage units which contain the needed paraphernalia for changing from one set of activities to another, light-weight chairs (the dining chairs are also pressed into service for card games and extra seating), and rather bulky upholstered pieces (since modern man prefers sprawling on the end of his spine to sitting up straight). Kitchen. The living room of a generation ago used to be separated from the kitchen by a pantry, a dining room, and often a front hall. There was no desire on the part of those who could afford a hired girl to hear her clattering dishes in the sink after the dining table had been cleared. Today dinner guests are likely to be invited into the kitchen to help clean up, and the two rooms are as closely related as possible. Two important trends may be noted with respect to the size of the kitchen. Contributing toward its reduction is the twofold fact that people eat less than they used to (gout is now as unfashionable as antimacassars) and that more foods are being sold in semi-prepared form. Obviously, if dinner comes out of two or three cans, one wax container, and a frozen cube, there is relatively little need for any elaborate or bulky cooking apparatus. Within the last few years the technique of preparing and distributing frozen foods has been developed even to the point where precooked, frozen meals are becoming available. If this is carried to its logical conclusion, it will follow that the

T H E INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

29

housewife will be able to store complete meals in a deep freezer and to serve them with virtually no preparation at all. It would seem reasonable to predict, therefore, that the kitchen will become even smaller as time goes by. On the other hand, several factors point to a tendency in the other direction. One is the development of semi-automatic laundering equipment, which housewives prefer to have located in the kitchen. Another is a feeling that the kitchen is a logical place for the housekeeper's "office." Still another factor is the growing idea that, if many family meals are to be served in the kitchen, the room should be made somewhat more ample and less hospital-like in appearance. In other words, we have here a picture of two concurrent but divergent trends: one to reduce the kitchen to a cubicle; the other, to convert it into a secondary living area not greatly unlike the kitchen of colonial New England. Dining Room. The rapid disappearance of the dining room has been so frequently remarked upon that it needs little additional comment. The main argument against the separate dining room stems from the fact that a substantial number of expensive cubic feet are set aside for a special use during only three or four hours of the twenty-four—an unwarranted waste. In houses where a dining room already exists, evidence of this attitude is seen in the frequent conversion of the room to other uses; city apartment dwellers, for instance, often use the dining room as a study or even as a bedroom. The most common procedure in houses today is to establish a dining area somewhere in the living room and to supplement this with a permanent dining alcove in the kitchen or immediately adjacent to it. Sleeping Areas. The enthusiasm shown during the 1930's for the so-called minimum house was an inevitable by-product of the economic depression. Now, as we have seen, the same trend is given further impetus in a period of prosperity by extremely high building costs. One of the most interesting experiments made in the attempt to arrive at the smallest possible house has taken place in the sleeping areas. Traditionally the bedroom is a rather large room, an area of 12 by 15 feet being considered by no means extravagant. One reason for the amount of space devoted to sleeping and dressing can be traced to the number of pieces of furniture normally purchased for these rooms—a double bed or twin beds, a bureau or dresser, a high chest of drawers, one or two night tables, a vanity, and one or two chairs. The average bedroom, in consequence, has to be large or there is no possibility of moving around in it or even of placing the furniture. The problems of waste space posed by conventional furnishings

THE INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

3*

Gadgets and technical devices absorbed into an integrated whole. Courtesy the Pierce Foundation

have been attacked with enthusiasm by a number of modern architects. Bureaus and chests have been eliminated by the expedient of installing the necessary drawers and trays in either the wall or a closet. T h e vanity has been thrown out on the assumption that most women prefer the bathroom mirror anyway. Beds have been reduced in size, and it is pointed out in justification that people sleep luxuriously in Pullman bedrooms and that a space 8 by 12 feet is large enough for the sleeping requirements of any couple. Furthermore, as much as 800 cubic feet can be saved in one bedroom through more efficient planning, and when cubic-foot costs run from 80 cents to $1.25 (as they did in 1947) the argument is more impressive than ever. Nevertheless difficulties have developed because life does not always conform to the rational theorizing of the planners. For one thing, the need for privacy has been steadily increasing. With the dining room gone and the living room developed as one large area designed to serve a great variety of family uses, the bedroom has become the last refuge in the house for anyone desiring quiet. Thus, at the same time that attempts are being made to shrink the size of the bedroom, there has also developed the concept of the bed-sitting room—a space with the functions of a well-equipped but secondary living room, the purpose of which is to allow parents and children to carry on their own activities without any overlapping or interference.

32

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

Even in children's rooms the tendency to reduce space has been countered by a desire to make these rooms sufficiently large for use as playrooms and for homework and hobbies. In addition there is a small but practical point to which the housewife attaches much importance: In any minimum sleeping chamber the bed inevitably gets placed in a corner or even in an alcove. The difficulties of making a bed so placed are considerable, and more time as well as effort is required. That objection can only be answered by providing space enough for a free-standing bed with only its head against a wall—clearly a more "functional" solution from the housewife's point of view. Even here, however, the architects have not given up the search for a satisfactory solution. One interesting experimental proposal was that the bed as such be eliminated. It was argued that, in a cubicle containing only a mattress, the combined use of radiant heating and air conditioning could provide ideal sleeping conditions and that bedclothes could be dispensed with entirely The average citizen will no doubt be inclined to throw up his hands in horror at such a proposal; nevertheless such a scheme may ultimately develop, for the currently popular electric blanket marks a step in this direction. The electric blanket has the virtue of eliminating the need for the usual blankets. T o meet public prejudice it is being disguised as a conventional wool blanket, with the heating element concealed within it; actually, however, a much lighter and thinner cover—and one which could be cleaned more easily—would function with equal effectiveness. It is possible that the next step will be an electric mattress cover to warm the sleeper from below, supplemented by infra-red lamps or radiant-heating coils in the ceiling above. T o the extent that these experiments are accepted by the public, bedrooms may approach a minimum size more successfully in the future than they have in the past. It seems more likely, however, that supplementary uses for the space will be discovered as rapidly as such technical improvements are made and that the space itself may well continue to be relatively large although the equipment for sleeping may become all but invisible. Storage Spaces. When hand-fired coal furnaces were equipped with stokers or were replaced by oil- or gas-burning units, it was suddenly discovered that the cellar, most of which had been used for coal storage, had lost its primary function. The response to this change in conditions took two forms: on the one hand there was the development of the recreation or "rumpus" room, which made use of the new-found space, thus testifying to the almost universal desire for more living area; on the other hand architects and builders tended

THE INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

33

to reduce the size of basements to the point where space was provided only for a furnace and a small amount of storage—the storage space was important, because the attic, among other superfluities, had virtually disappeared from new houses by the 1930's. From this shrunken cellar it was only a step to proposals that the basement be eliminated entirely. A point in favor was the development of modern heating systems, which no longer rely on gravity and can therefore be installed at the first-floor level; also, as advocates of the basementless house reasoned, cellar stairs are a cause of innumerable household accidents, and who wants to go down into a cellar anyway? It was further argued that such storage space as is needed should be provided at ground level, where it is easily accessible. Again the theory was magnificent and unanswerable, but it encountered difficulties—some real and some imaginary— the chief of which is that the basementless house has rarely been provided with the needed storage space aboveground, and as a result the average family must either get rid of its trunks and old pieces of furniture or be crowded out of the house. The proposal of the basementless house aroused fears that the floor would be cold, a possibility which led to the development of concrete floor slabs laid directly on the ground with heating coils embedded in them. Radiant heating.in this form thus disposed of this objection by turning the floor into a large low-temperature radiator. Since the greater convenience of a one-floor house is almost universally accepted, it is likely that radiant-heating techniques will continue to make this type of dwelling more attractive. Here again we run into the conflict between the tendency on the one hand to contract the house and on the other to expand it. With no cellar available for the pursuit of hobbies and recreation generally, the full burden is again thrown on the living room. Plans have already been developed which attempt to sidestep the dilemma by so changing the functions of the traditional living room that it becomes two sharply diversified spaces. This planning concept envisions a large room created to take care of dining, entertaining, hobbies, and group activities of many kinds and so built and furnished as to be virtually indestructible. In other words, the room would not be harmed if a portion of it were set aside for carpentry or metal working; nor could it be damaged by the tricycles of small children who are kept indoors on a rainy day. Off this space there would be a small room equipped with a tightly fitting door and sound-proofed if necessary. It would be large enough to seat perhaps six people and would serve as a private sitting room or study. In the average household the small room would be taken over by the parents on

34

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

certain occasions while the larger space was allocated to the children for their social activities, and vice versa. This concept matches the requirements of contemporary living far more closely than does that of the conventional living room, and there is reason to believe that its use will be extended. As remarked above, one of the very real objections to the elimination of the basement is that insuperable storage problems are thus created. In studying this and other problems, the author, in collaboration with Henry Wright, developed solutions which were presented in Tomorrow's House ' and produced an architectural element known as the Storagewall. The investigation began in response to the endlessly repeated complaints of householders that there was never enough "closet space." Analysis showed that it was not closet space that was required, but a series of carefully differentiated storage areas. A closet, by its very nature, is not suitable for the storage of much besides clothes. Golf clubs, soap, and towels, for instance, fit far more conveniently into shallow storage units, as do books, magazines, tennis rackets, roller skates, movie projectors, and a host of other items. On this basis the storage area was therefore organized into three types of space. First there was bulk-storage space designed to accommodate everything from lawn rollers to bicycles and old bureaus. This, it seemed, could best be handled by something approximating the old woodshed, and it could easily be provided by merely widening the garage. The conventional closet was retained as the second storage type, since a space slightly more than 2 feet deep, equipped with doors for its full opening, is ideal for clothing. The third type furnishes shallow storage space, about 10 or 12 inches in depth, to take care of virtually everything else that needs to be stored; for this the Storagewall was developed as a replacement for the non-bearing partition. A plaster partition is almost 6 inches in thickness; a Storagewall unit, full of completely usable storage space, is only 12 inches thick. The increased thickness is highly desirable, and it takes only 3 inches off each of the adjoining rooms. A further advantage of this wall-storage system lies in its flexibility, for part of the wall can be made accessible to one room and the rest of it reserved for the room on the opposite side (Fig. 22). Although the Storagewall is now being manufactured as a commercial product, its basic concept is so simple and its execution so easy that it is possible for the carpenters on the job or local mills to apply the idea in any new house. It is safe to say that unless the storage problem is conceived as a series of separate 1

New York: Simon & Schuster, 1945.

THE INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

35

FIGURE 2 2 . STORAGEWALL, SHOWING W H A T IT CAN HOLD

George Nelson and Henry Niccolls Wright, designers One solution of the perplexing problem of household storage. Life Photo, courtesy George Nelson

problems most householders will continue to be frustrated by the lack of what they call "adequate closet space." Bathroo?n. Some years ago the author had occasion to apply to the bathroom the same methods of analysis that he had focused on the question of storage, and the results were not merely interesting but surprising. The modern bathroom is the one room in the house which has been squeezed down to an absolutely irreducible minimum, and the reason is that bathrooms are usually designed for the fixtures instead of for the people who use them. Since the room's largest fixture is barely 6 feet in length, it is a simple matter to reduce the entire space to an area of about 30 square feet. What is generally overlooked by clients and architects alike, of course, is that the costly part of the bathroom is not the amount of air enclosed but the fixtures and plumbing. Nevertheless the minimum bathroom has become standard, even in expensive houses. With an idea of determining how closely this minimum space conformed

36

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

to actual preferences, a survey of the most casual sort was launched. People were asked what, if anything, they objected to in their present bathrooms. The complaints were relatively few. A large number of those questioned felt that storage space for bathroom linens, as well as for such articles as soap and toilet paper, should be provided. Some disapproved of tile on the walls on the ground that it was too cold to the touch, and a few expressed a dissatisfaction with the size of the room or a desire for more bathrooms. In other words, so few complaints were encountered that one might have drawn the conclusion that here at last the minimum idea had worked out in a completely satisfactory way. At this point a new series of questions was presented, including "What kind of bathroom would you like if money were no object?" and "What would you put into the ideal bathroom?" The replies were astonishing in their length and variety. Many of those questioned wanted telephones and built-in radios.2 Some thought that the ideal bath tub should be located next to a full-size picture window (assuming, of course, a pleasant outlook and complete privacy). Other desires included built-in ash trays by the tub, reading lights, a place to put a highball glass, a shower as well as a tub, a chaise longue covered with waterproof fabric, sun lamps, larger medicine cabinets and counter space, materials and equipment for exercise, and so on. A few people hesitantly confessed that they would like a tub big enough for two. In other words, it seemed that when free rein was given to the imagination and normally concealed desires were expressed, the bathroom tended to assume a rather elaborate and unconventional form. It would have been possible, on the basis of these answers, to design a bathroom that would be the last word in begadgeted elegance. The survey, however, was not interpreted in this way. What seemed fairly clear was a genuine feeling on the part of people that the bathroom should be used for a far wider range of activities than are normally carried on in it. The requests for a radio, a telephone, and even a picture window, for example, suggested that the pleasant relaxed feeling that comes with taking a bath creates a desire for social and aesthetic communication. Equally clearly, the listing of a chaise longue and an oversize tub suggested that, given the space, people might use the bathroom for sexual activity. Other replies showed that care of the body 2 Here, of course, the great danger of electric equipment in the bathroom must not be overlooked. The human body when wet is a much better conductor of electricity than when dry. Fatal shocks are not uncommon because of radios, telephones, and other electric appliances in bathrooms.

THE INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

37

through exercise was logically connected in some people's minds with getting the body clean. What was most interesting about this investigation was that it turned up a picture not of a new kind of bathroom but of the oldest type known to mankind. The Roman baths, for instance, combined social activity, games, exercise, and even cultural pursuits with bathing. The Russian and Finnish steam baths are primarily places for social activity. The Turkish bath includes a variety of spaces for different functions. The Italian word for bath, bagnio, later came to mean "brothel," thus demonstrating the traditional connection between bathing and love making. Finally, the Japanese bath, as built in the private Japanese house, is a room in which the shower is used for getting clean whereas the tub is used only for relaxing the body. Use of the bath in the Japanese household is a social function rather than a private one, for it is customary for the whole family to congregate around it. One conclusion that might be drawn at this point is that the bathroom in the United States is not quite the miracle of modern ingenuity it is supposed to be and that it might better be described as an example of how an industrial culture acting in concert with prudery can create a room that fails to meet requirements expressed by the human race in every part of the world throughout history. Obviously, should this point of view gain wide acceptance, the efforts to arrive at a minimum plan may again encounter obstacles even in the bathroom. HOUSES AS ORGANISMS

It is possible to investigate further the interaction of contemporary living patterns and house design, but it should be clear from the examples cited that the modern house is an organism as fluid in its present state as are today's political institutions, educational methods, economic systems, and standards of value. The direction which the house appears to be taking moves backward as well as forward; in other words, there is no straight-line progression toward a machine for living. The patio, for example, has been revived with signal success by the brilliant group of younger architects practicing on the Pacific Coast, because outdoor living, sun bathing, and alfresco dining have been absorbed into contemporary attitudes. The patio meets these new requirements just as effectively as it met the old ones; for, although the enclosure lies in the sun, it keeps out the street noises and the neighbors. If the modern kitchen seems in some instances to approach the traditional kitchen, it is not because

38

BUILDINGS FOR

RESIDENCE

mother is going back to pickling and preserving, to bathing the baby in the sink, or to making her own soap, but because the servantless house is now a reality for all classes and no woman wants to be confined to household duties more than is absolutely necessary. If the small N e w England parlor seems to be emerging once again in the form of a private sitting room, the new reasons are just as valid as the old ones. T h e entire individual house, in other words, is undergoing a complete re-evaluation of its purposes and functions, and when this re-evaluation revives architectural forms that are hundreds or even thousands of years old it merely points up the fact that the race, in spite of its advance into the atomic era, in some respects has changed little since the days of the Pharaohs. For this reason much of the talk about the modern house as something uniquely "functional," as if that were a new or revolutionary idea, is just so much nonsense. It would be far more accurate to say that the validity of the modern house lies not in the fiction that it represents a radical departure from earlier types but in the fact that it is continuing along the established path of all traditional home building. From this point of view a conclusion could be drawn to show that the so-called Colonial house of the twentieth century is actually non-traditional, since it attempts to force present-day living into structures which grew out of a different technology and different family requirements. A n accurate evaluation of the modern house can therefore be made only in relation to techniques, materials, social patterns, family requirements, and emotional attitudes as they exist today. With this critical approach even the layman can arrive at valid conclusions, and if he should decide that many of the contemporary houses which have been built are bad houses he may well be right, but he should remind himself of two things: first, architecture like everything else in our time is in a state of rapid transition, and it is inevitable that some of the experiments being made should lead up blind alleys; and, second, the twentieth century has no monopoly on incompetence—bad building was foisted on other periods, and if we do not see this now it is because so much has mercifully been swept away. THE HOUSE IN ITS SETTING

N o discussion of the house is complete without placing it in a larger frame of reference. Ideally the form of the house is conditioned both by its internal requirements and by such external factors as the direction of prevailing winds, the orientation, the nature of the terrain, and the means of access. In practice,

THE INDIVIDUAL HOUSE FIGURE

ON TO oik RM~~* STUDY TERRACE

23.

39 FAIRCHILD

HOUSE,

NEW YORK. PLANS William Hamby and George Nelson, architects A house split into two units with a private courtyard between them.

10 15 20 25rr

however, the dwelling is influenced by a host of other circumstances, all manmade. These influences, as a rule, operate more often for the worse than for the better. City Houses. T h e most extreme example of residential design as limited by external conditions is the city row house, since the size of the lot is rigorously limited by cost, taxes, and the existence of adjoining buildings. Under such circumstances the problem is to fit some sort of dwelling to a lot 18 to 2 5 feet wide and about 100 feet deep. There is no possibility whatever of proper orientation, because the position of the house is fixed by lot lines, streets, and zoning ordinances. As a rule the solution takes the form of a building which starts at the building line and extends, the full width of the lot, back 40 or 50 feet and up into the air three or four stories. Usually it is impossible to get more than two rooms on the front, and it is necessary to bury closets, baths, and stairs within the core of the building. Occasionally a departure from this norm is made—for example, a plan in which the house is split into front and back units, with a private courtyard in the center (Fig. 23). Such solutions, however, are exceedingly expensive, although the added advantages in terms of light and outlook are considerable. Another problem facing the city house is the owner's inability to control the outlook. A house may be built on a side street where it can enjoy ample sunshine on the front all through the winter, only to have this advantage removed by the construction of an apartment house across the way. A further problem is the city soot and dirt which make air conditioning—or at least some form of filtered ventilation—a virtual necessity. Insulation against noise is still another problem that arises, which can be solved but not cheaply. Perhaps the only real advantage enjoyed by the urban row house is that in certain large cities, such as N e w York, district heating can be provided, thus



B U I L D I N G S FOR R E S I D E N C E

FIGURE 2 4 . FAIRCHILD HOUSE, N E W

YORK.

EXTERIOR AND COURTYARD William Hamby and George Nelson, architects T h e added advantages in terms of light and outlook are considerable. Photographs Robert Damora

eliminating the need for an individual heating plant and the maintenance it requires. Considering the situation faced by families in a big city, it is understandable that the dwelling solution usually adopted is either an apartment or a house in the suburbs. Suburban Houses. The suburban house began as an estate; that is, the rich moved away from the city to areas within an hour's train ride, where they purchased acreage, put up large establishments, and tried to balance the benefits of city work and country living. The swelling tide which followed them was composed of upper-middle-class families that could no longer endure the handicaps to family life imposed by the city. These families generally proceeded to ape the group they considered their betters by erecting extremely pretentious houses, but on lots rather than on acreage. The results can be seen on what used to be the fringes of any city—rather large houses, which would cost $50,000 or more today, set on lots so small that there is room for only a driveway between them. In Detroit and Pittsburgh, for no understandable reason, many big houses of early-twentieth-century tycoons were built in

T H E INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

FIGURE 2 5 .

4'

HOUSES H A R M O N I O U S L Y R E L A T E D , N A N T U C K E T ,

The earlier harmony that was often displaced by suburban chaos.

MASSACHUSETTS

Photograph Talbot Hamlin

this fashion, although the owners presumably could have afforded an ample plot of ground. The last shift took place with the coming of the automobile and the rapid-transit lines, which made it possible for middle-class-income groups to escape the city, although what they escaped to represented little improvement over what they left. Such are the great subdivisions which have disfigured the environs of London, New York, and Chicago, where endless rows of jerry-built cracker boxes produce an effect of truly devastating monotony. The social historian who has concluded that one of the main characteristics of the last century was its lack of interest in essential human values could prove his point with any of these subdivisions. Here, where endless rows of identical two-story houses are spaced a few feet apart, the whole idea of the individual house—based on privacy, physical separation from adjoining houses, and the enjoyment of a usable plot of ground—has been perverted in the interests of a group bent only on profit. It has been demonstrated that the lower-income groups can be housed adequately and with dignity (Fig. 120), but the solution demands over-all planning of the neighborhood (this subject is discussed in Chapters 5 and 6) and it may also require abandonment of the individual house in favor of well-planned rows. Save in the small cities and towns, an individual house on an adequate plot of ground is beyond the reach of the lower-income citizen. Country Houses. The country house, formerly reserved for the very wealthy, has had a phenomenal development in the United States and may

42

I

FIGURE 2 6 . A COUNTRY HOUSE OF T H E VERY BILTMORE,

WEALTHY

ASHEVILLE,

NORTH CAROLINA Richard M. Hunt, architect Courtesy Biltmore, Asheville, North Carolina

become its most important single dwelling type in the next f e w generations. T h e factors involved have been the automobile, the wide availability of electric power, and the existence of relatively inexpensive equipment f o r heat, light, and water if community services are not available. It is a matter of common observation that in a city the size of either St. Paul or Syracuse a man can go by car from his office to the open country in less time than it takes a worker in Chicago or N e w York to reach his apartment. As our cities decay and the reasons for living in them disappear, escape is becoming easier. T h e development of the country house as a dwelling type has had a number of interesting architectural consequences. T h e all-glass wall, for instance, which has been used with such enthusiasm and skill by many modern architects, functions effectively only where there is enough land to assure visual privacy. This feature can be adapted to the more crowded suburban and even urban areas, but under such conditions it presents many difficulties. T h e interest in orientation and in solar heating has also tended to foster the use of large windows, but again proper orientation is possible only where there is an ample plot of land. Attempts to relate indoor and outdoor living, which have had so great an effect on house planning, again demand space around the house. One of the most interesting plan types developed in the second quarter of the twentieth century is the long plan (Figs. 27, 28), a house type which is in effect a series of rooms laid end to end. This scheme has been most fully exploited on the Pacific Coast, where there is no heating problem to influence the shape of the house, but it has been tried in almost every part of the country. Behind the interest in the long, narrow plan are a number of factors. One is a desire to give proper orientation to as many rooms as possible; if the best orientation for a room is south and if all the major rooms therefore face in this

T H E INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

43

PLAN Julius R. Davidson, architect A characteristic example of the long type of in-line plan.

direction, the inevitable result is a house plan one room deep, with only corridors, baths, and closets on the north side. Another influence is the desire for space—even at the cost of housekeeping efficiency—which is a reaction to cramped apartment living in the large cities. Still another factor is the desire to merge the house as closely with the terrain as possible, and for this an extended, rambling, one-story scheme offers greater opportunities than any other T h e country house, therefore, not only has become a symbol of a certain kind of desirable living but also has fostered developments in all house design, many of them significant. SOCIAL

CONDITIONING

One set of relationships between the house and its surroundings is social rather than physical, but its importance with regard to the design of the in-

44

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

FIGURE 2 8 . AN I N - L I N E HOUSE: CASE STUDY HOUSE, LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA. EXTERIOR Julius R . Davidson, architect A n extended one-story house type lends itself well to harmonious integration with its environment. Photograph Julius Shulman

dividual house is great nevertheless. We have seen that several of the changes which are taking place in the form and plan of the house stem from the demand for a less laborious method of housekeeping. If the home laundry is shifted from the basement to an enlarged kitchen, there is obviously a gain in efficiency and the housewife's work is lightened. For one thing, she no longer has to drag a basket of wet clothes up a steep and narrow stair. If the equipment is made semi-automatic there is a further gain, for she can now toss the clothes into the washer, set the controls, and go about her other work. But if the equipment is eliminated entirely—if dirty clothes are given to a community laundry—she has no work at all beyond handing a bundle to the laundryman. In other words, if efficiencies are to be carried beyond a certain point, they must become social rather than individual. This point is so important in relation to the possibilities of house planning that it is worth further development.

T H E INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

45

It was remarked above that the one advantage possessed by some city houses is the availability of district heating. District hearing requires the establishment of a large, centrally located heating plant and a network of underground steam pipes to the various users. No matter how good the individual furnace, district hearing is better, for it replaces individual maintenance with no maintenance. Care of children follows a similar pattern. In Stockholm there are a number of co-operative apartment houses which are equipped with nurseries where the children can be cared for not only by day but at night and on week ends as well. A lower-middle-income family in such an apartment house consequently has far greater freedom than all but the very rich in the United States. Architects frequently go to great pains to provide for child play in houses, even to the point of specifying materials which will show a minimum of wear. Such solutions, however, cannot take care of the social requirements of children or give the parents the freedom they occasionally require. The group nursery is by no means exclusively an apartment-house solution; a new suburban development of about one hundred houses outside of Toronto includes such provisions in the general plan. Under such conditions, not only can the small house being built today function far more effectively, but further design developments can take place as a result. Communal services might be extended to include food service and house cleaning, which again would affect certain areas of the house plan. The point in each case is the same: The individual house can solve the living problems of a family only up to a certain point; beyond that the solution has to be social. The presentation of trends of this kind (and they have been accelerated by conditions which developed during the Second World War) is often received with violent disapprobation. Outside care of children is considered a symptom of moral disintegration, and the idea of meals delivered from a community kitchen is held to be an attack on the dignity of the housewife. It may be that socialization of certain kinds of work carries with it certain dangers to the structure and moral fiber of both the family and the community; nevertheless the tendency has existed from the beginning of time, and our whole industrial development when viewed from one angle might be described as a continuous series of attempts to reduce the amount of labor required ot man. There is no reason to believe that these attempts are going to be discontinued when they affect family life in the individual house.

46

BUILDINGS FOR

RESIDENCE

FIGURE 2 9 . INTERNATIONAL S I M I L A R I T I E S IN T H E MODERN

HOUSE

ABOVE: From the David Lloyd George Estate, Churt, Surrey, England; Tecton & Chitty, architects. Courtesy Architect and Building News, BELOW: Lowe House, California; Wurster, Bemardi & Emmons, architects. Photograph Roger Sturtevant. The modem house is recognizable as such everywhere.

One reason for the resistance to the development of modern residential architecture is to be found in the objections to such trends as those just mentioned. T o certain groups social change of any kind is alarming, and the modern

T H E I N D I V I D U A L HOUSE

F I G U R E 3 0 . S I M I L A R I T I E S I N T H E MODERN HOUSE IN D I F F E R E N T

47

CLIMATES

ABOVE: House in Toronto, Canada; Gordon Adamson, architect. Photograph Rapid Grip and Batten, BELOW: House in Southern California; Whitney R. Smith, architect. Photograph Maynard L. Parker. Despite extreme differences in climate, similar requirements and attitudes often lead to similar forms.

house is an accurate three-dimensional visualization of change. If evidence is needed that the world is no longer a collection of independent nations but a single unit, the modern house offers a proof which is far more compelling

48

B U I L D I N G S FOR R E S I D E N C E

than any statements of politicians to the contrary: the modern house is recognizable as such everywhere, whether in New Jersey or Japan, Connecticut or Czechoslovakia, France, Brazil, or India (Figs. 29, 30). Regional and climatic differences are apparent, to be sure, but there is almost universal agreement on the need for an industrial basis for houses and for an aesthetic treatment expressive of this basis. Furthermore the underlying social and psychological attitudes of society everywhere are fundamentally the same. The similarities which make the modern house a recognizable entity in any part of the globe are often attacked. We are heading for the most unbearable kind of standardization, it is asserted, and if all houses look alike our communities will become a horror of conformity. Of "unbearable standardization" we already have a great deal. But the New England village, the houses of which are basically alike, has never produced this reaction; nor have the villages in France or England. On the other hand, such communities as Lake Forest and Scarsdale, where every known style of building has been used, for some reason give no impression of a lively variety; nor do they begin to approach the charm of, say, Litchfield, Connecticut. The difficulty, perhaps, may lie not in the fact of standardization but in the basic integrity of the units employed. As Buckminster Fuller once pointed out, a group of five hundred three-year-olds would be a delightful sight, although the children would appear as identical as five hundred peas—but the effect of five hundred cripples would be quite different. Certainly the universal mutilation of earlier designs which characterizes practically all United States residential building can hardly be described as a practical way of achieving a desirable prototype. And there is reason to believe that the modern house, with its honest attempt to provide a genuinely useful framework for contemporary living, may yet provide it.

SUGGESTED ADDITIONAL READING FOR CHAPTER

I

Behrendt, Walter Curt, Modern Building; Its Nature, Problems, and Forms ( N e w York: Harcourt, Brace, 1937). Bemis, Albert F., and John Burchard, 2nd., The Evolving Howe, Vol. I (Cambridge, Mass.: Technology Press [C1933J). Giedion, Sigfried, Space, Time and Architecture (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1941). Harada, Jiro, The Lesson of Japanese Architecture, edited by C. G . Holme (London: Studio, 1936).

THE INDIVIDUAL HOUSE

49

Le Corbusier (Charles £douard Jeanncret), Towards a New Architecture, translated from the 13th French ed. of Vers une Architecture, with an introduction by Frederick Etchells (London: Rodker, 1931). Mock, Elizabeth, If You Want to Build a House (New York: Museum of Modern Art [1946]). Nelson, George, and Henry Niccolls Wright, Tomorrow's House (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1945). Pevsner, Nikolaus, Pioneers of the Modern Movement . . . (London: Faber [i93 |g|piN. ID oo '

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ABOVE: Two BELOW, LEFT:

from Highpoint Apartments, Highgate, London; Lubetkin & Tecton, architects. One from Clinton Hill Apartments, Brooklyn, New York; Harrison, Fouilhoux & Abramovitz, architects, BELOW, RIGHT: One from Abel and Severud, Apartment Houses. Four differing types of well-studied unit plans varying from the relatively inexpensive to the more luxurious.

72

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

do not provide desirable standards of privacy or comfort, but they are generally superior to the customary boarding house, which is frequently the only alternative. Housekeeping units should be designed to furnish as a minimum all the advantages found in the small house, and sometimes also a degree of amenity and luxury beyond the scope of any but the more expensive houses. Every unit should contain sufficient space for fulfilling the customary functions of household life—entertaining, study, reading, relaxation, recreation, cooking, laundry work, sewing, eating, sleeping, personal hygiene, bathing, and storage —and adequate circulation. Since the needs of different types of occupants vary, there is naturally a variation in the size and arrangement of the spaces necessary to satisfy these needs. Much research into living habits and preferences yet remains to be done. The problem of designing for tenants' needs and desires is very different from that of adjusting the design to their ability to pay rent. Surveys indicate that in low-rent projects, where there is much dissatisfaction on the part of tenants, the most frequent complaints are: 1. Lack of adequate closet space. This lack is especially inconvenient because here the room sizes are also kept to a minimum and it is not feasible for the tenant to supplement the meager closets with chests or wardrobes. As a result it is difficult if not impossible to keep the apartment neat and orderly. 2. Kitchens too small. In many low-rent units the kitchen as the main household center is used not only for food preparation but also for eating, laundry work, and sewing, and frequently in the evenings as a place to read or relax. 3. Poor room relationships. On account of the unfortunately high density of population per room in low-rent projects, circulation should be arranged so that it is possible for the living room to be used for sleeping purposes. Adequate standards of privacy require that the bathroom be accessible without passage through any other room, and similarly it is preferable that all sleeping rooms be reached from the entrance foyer without passage through the living room. Consequently, in low-rent projects especially, the room size and the location of radiators, windows, and doors should be studied in relation to room usage. Bedrooms must double as places for work, study, the pursuit of hobbies, and relaxation; living rooms must frequently be used also for sleeping and dining; and in many cases kitchens must accommodate practically every function except that of sleeping.

T H E APARTMENT HOUSE

TYPICAL TYPICAL

3 ROOM

4 ROOM

73

APARTMENT

APARTMENT T Y P I C A L 5 ROOM

FIGURE 4 7 . T H R E E - , FOUR-, AND FIVE-ROOM A P A R T M E N T S FROM

APARTMENT

MAN-

HATTAN HOUSE, B U I L T B Y T H E N E W YORK L I F E INSURANCE C O M P A N Y , NEW

YORK

Mayer & Whittlesey and Skidmore, Owings & Merrill, associated architects Well-proportioned ample rooms, adequate storage areas, simple and direct circulation, welllocated doors and windows, and great flexibility for furniture arrangement achieved through careful study. Courtesy Mayer & Whittlesey and the N e w York Life Insurance Co.

The unit plans of moderate- and high-rent apartments will differ from those in low-rent projects, because here a much less intensive use of space is customary. This latitude permits the development of more open plans which give an added spaciousness. The dining space can be thrown open to the living room, thus greatly increasing both appearance of space and flexibility in use. The kitchen itself can be somewhat smaller, since it is only a work space. Circulation through the living room is not so objectionable, for generally no one sleeps there; such circulation, however, should be studied in relation to furniture placement and room use so as not to interfere with the proper grouping of furniture.6 In these less restricted units the bathrooms should never open directly from * Ideally it should be possible to reach any bedroom from the entrance without going through the living room. For instance, the man of the house, returning from a hard day's work, may find it embarrassing to pass through the living room when his wife or children are entertaining there. Ed.

74

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

FIGURE 4 8 . TWO N E W YORK APARTMENT HOUSE PLANS 140 Central Park South; & Whittlesey, architects. BELOW: Castle Village Apartments; George Fred Pelham, Jr., architect.

ABOVE:

Mayer

T w o unusual apartment house plans having minimized circulation areas and showing special study for view and orientation. From Abel and Severud, Apartment Houses

THE APARTMENT

I

HOUSE

75

FIGURE 4 9 .

WASHINGTON

HOUSE, WASHINGTON. TYPICAL-FLOOR P L A N

Joseph H. Abel, architect A typical Washington corridortype apartment house designed with small apartments only. From Abel and Severud, Apartment Houses

a bedroom unless more than one bathroom is provided, and at least one bathroom should open on a hall freely accessible to every room. Closet space should be generous; at least one large closet for each bedroom (and two if possible), a coat closet near the entrance, and a linen closet in the hall near the bathroom are necessary. Additional closets for general storage, as well as small closets in the bathrooms for the storage of articles too bulky for the usual medicine cabinet, will be greatly appreciated. Built-in chests of drawers, ample shelves, and closet fixtures should be included whenever possible. One requirement in planning luxury apartments—and exclusive with them —is the provision of servants' rooms and baths. Servants' quarters should be entered through a separate entrance, which may also serve the kitchen and other service areas. In a f e w cases servants' rooms have been grouped together on a separate floor. Luxury apartments, as the name implies, should provide superb living quarters. T h e usual practice of merely adding on more rooms does not accomplish this; imagination and ingenuity are also needed. T h e study made by the Serge ChermayefF group and published in the Architectural Forum for May, 1943, indicates some of the possibilities. In the scheme presented both interest and spaciousness have been gained by arranging each unit on two or three levels; in addition all the apartments have large balconies and living areas arranged to take advantage of views and to receive sunlight. T h e services and amenities provided, the general character of the units, and their arrangement on garden

j6

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

sites as suggested would provide extremely attractive living quarters. A further development of such planning would produce luxury apartments far superior to those which have thus far been built.7 Balconies have frequently been provided on apartment buildings, and generally they are extensively used by the tenants. Care must be taken to locate them with due regard for privacy; where they are close together or in continuous rows they should be shielded from one another by screens or partitions. Fireplaces have not often been supplied, for they are unduly expensive. In multi-story buildings the many flues that are required result in an extremely large mass of masonry for each tier of apartments; the variations in stack heights also cause difficulties, for the fireplaces on the lower floors will have an excessive amount of draft and those on the top not enough.8 Elimination of Waste Space. A prime consideration in economical planning is the elimination of waste space. Waste space is largely the result of attempts to crowd the maximum amount of building on small and often irregular lots. Complex building shapes usually produce many dark inside spaces which are difficult to utilize, such as large entrance foyers or so-called dinettes, which because of their size, shape, and lack of light and air are often impractical for dining. Unstudied plans also frequently give rise to long, crooked halls within units. Any such spaces which contribute nothing to the livability of the apartment should be rigidly eliminated. General Plans. Apartment-building plans in general may be divided into three types according to the means of access to apartment units: the corridor type, the group type,9 and the balcony type. The corridor-type plan is characterized by corridors of varying length giving access, as a rule, to more than five apartments per floor. It has been customary to condemn this type of plan as being uneconomical in both construction and maintenance. That conclusion is not always borne out by actual experience, however, and if this plan type is properly studied it has many advantages. These are evident, first, in buildings on moderate-sized lots, where 7

For an excellent example of the luxury apartment see Figs. 48, 52, 240 Central Park South, New York. 8 But many of the most recent luxury apartments provide fireplaces, for the fireplace is considered too important as a symbolic focus of family lire and as an assistance to pleasant sociability to be discarded. Ed. 9 Note: The "group type" refers here to buildings with apartments opening directly into the stair well with no intervening corridor whatsoever. This type is permitted in most codes only for two- and three-story buildings.

THE APARTMENT HOUSE

FIGURE FLOOR

50.

EMBASSY

COURT

AND TYPICAL-FLOOR

APARTMENTS,

BRIGHTON,

77

ENGLAND.

PLANS

Wells Coates, architect A luxury apartment in England with service circulation of the balcony type.

GROUND-

78

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE FIGURE 5 1 . EMBASSY COURT

APARTMENTS,

BRIGHTON,

ENGLAND.

EXTERIOR Wells Coates, architect Continuous windows and balconies utilize the view to the best advantage. Courtesy Museum of Modern Art, N e w York

space limitations will not permit a group plan to be used advantageously; and, second, in certain multi-story buildings where the corridor provides the only economical method of obtaining elevator efficiency. The group type of plan—in which a limited number of units (usually from two to four) are grouped about a single stair—is appropriate for use in twoand three-story buildings. Its advantages and disadvantages have been discussed above. The problem of choosing the desirable plan type is necessarily conditioned both by the lot size and shape and by the size of the apartments to be served. Thus in a low building widely spread out over its site a long public corridor may be necessary, whereas in multi-story buildings it may be possible to obtain the same number of units with a more centralized plan and, consequently, shorter corridors. For maximum elevator efficiency, a core containing two elevators and the required stairways should serve about 125 apartments above the first floor. The third type of apartment-building plan—the balcony type—utilizes a corridor, generally open, along one side of the units only. This plan type has been used in a considerable number of European buildings but only to a limited extent in the United States. In the more northern latitudes such balconies present a maintenance problem in the disposal of snow or ice, unless equipped with some form of heating for melting it as rapidly as it collects. T o obtain the necessary privacy and quiet in the units of buildings with this type of plan, the living and sleeping rooms must be isolated from the corridor, for windows

T H E APARTMENT HOUSE FIGURE

79 52.

24O C E N T R A L PARK

SOUTH,

NEW YORK. EXTERIOR Mayer & Whittlesey, architects Balconies and interesting building forms, resulting from an unusual plan for an unusual site, create distinguished character. Photograph Richard Garrison

opening on it will expose the interior to the view of passers-by and will admit all the noise of footsteps and conversation; therefore the only rooms which can face the corridor are kitchens and baths. This restriction proves a severe limitation in planning, especially if large units with more than one bedroom are required. Such arrangements require twice as much corridor per unit as the central-corridor type of plan, but they have certain merits. They make possible similar orientation for all apartments—an asset if there is a really good view available—and offer the somewhat dubious advantage of through ventilation for all units. From the standpoint of exterior appearance, they can be made attractive and will present, on the corridor side at least, an aspect very different from that of the usual straight wall. Public Spaces. Lobbies should be made as small as is consistent with their functions. In low-rent buildings the lobby's function is to serve as an entrance to the building and sometimes as a location for mail delivery and distribution. In buildings in the moderate and higher rental brackets, lobbies frequently require added space for additional services, such as counters for clerks, mail racks, telephone switchboards, administrative offices, package storage rooms, and seating space for visitors.

BUILDINGS F O R R E S I D E N C E FIGURE

53.

MANHATTAN

HOUSE,

FOR T H E N E W

YORK

L I F E INSURANCE COMPANY,

NEW

YORK. EXTERIOR Mayer & Whittlesey and Slcidmore, Owings & Merrill, associated architects

Projecting wings and balconies tend to cut down the scale of this large structure to human proportions. Courtesy Mayer & Whittlesey and the New York Life Insurance Co. FIGURE

54.

EASTGATE,

FACULTY

APARTMENT

HOUSE

FOR MASSACHUSETTS I N S T I T U T E OF T E C H NOLOGY, CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS. PHOTOGRAPH OF T H E MODEL W . H . Brown, R. W . Kennedy, Carl Koch, and William Davies, architects; Vernon DeMars, consultant An apartment house designed to make the most of the views, air, and sunshine provided by its riverside site and its orientation. Courtesy Robert Woods Kennedy

Materials and finishes in lobbies should be not only as simple as possible but also extremely durable and easily maintained, because in the first place these areas are subject to considerable wear and tear and, secondly, maintenance of cheap finishes is difficult and expensive. Improper maintenance of lobbies, stair halls, and corridors results in a shabbiness that has a depressing effect on the general tone of the entire building.

THE APARTMENT HOUSE

81

FIGURE 5 5 . T Y P I C A L A P A R T M E N T HOUSE EXTERIORS 1 .EFT: 2100 Connecticut Avenue, Washington; Berla & Abel, architects. Photograph Rodney McCay Morgan—Photolog. RIGHT: On 16th Street, Washington; Joseph H . Abel, architect. Photograph Leet Brothers. Characteristic shapes generated by the urban apartnient-house problem.

Other Amenities. Elaborate lounges or promenades are in general a waste of space and money. In the great majority of apartment buildings they are entirely unnecessary, and in most buildings where they have been provided they have not been much used by the tenants. In some buildings game rooms for table tennis, billiards, and similar activities have been furnished for the tenants. Party rooms offering space for groups too large to be entertained in the tenants' own apartments have also been tried, but such rooms have often been abused and they also involve undue maintenance expense. Small basement spaces may be assigned to tenants for use as hobby rooms and for work that cannot conveniently be done in the apartments; these spaces are usually fitted out by the tenants themselves. All apartment buildings or groups should be provided with well-ventilated and well-lighted laundry rooms and clothes-drying space. Such spaces should be so located as to require a minimum of travel on the part of the housewife; in many existing projects the location of large laundries at widely separated points requires a lengthv haul from many of the units. In two- and three-story buildings it would be better to have a number of small laundries conveniently

82

BUILDINGS FOR

RESIDENCE

placed than to adopt the more usual practice of centralizing larger ones at widely separated points. In multi-story apartment houses, as noted earlier, a laundry may be located in the basement of each building. Service Spaces. Facilities for employees will vary considerably with the type of building and the methods of operation. In most buildings janitors' living quarters are provided in the basement, opening into the service corridor. In buildings employing hall boys, elevator operators, and office help, toilet rooms should be provided for their use in conjunction with small dressing rooms equipped with steel lockers. Service entrances should be carefully located to facilitate daily deliveries and the handling of furniture for tenants moving in or out; access from them to the stairs, the elevators, and the desk in the lobby should be provided. Space should be supplied outside the service entry for the parking of trucks. For large buildings a loading platform with a projecting canopy over it will

THE APARTMENT HOUSE FIGURE

56.

»3

TYPICAL

APARTMENT

HOUSE

LOBBIES OPPOSITE,

ABOVE:

40

Cen-

tral Park South, New York; Mayer & Whittlesey, architects. Photograph Richard Garrison. Washington House, Washington; Berla & Abel, architects. Photograph Rodney McCay Morgan— Photolog.

OPPOSITE, B E L O W :

RIGHT,

TOP:

2720 Wisconsin Avenue, Washington; Berla & Abel, architects. Photograph Rodney McCay Morgan—Photolog. RIGHT, 21st and I Streets, Washington; Berla & Abel, architects. Photograph Rodney McCay Morgan—Photolog. MIDDLE:

RIGHT,

BELOW:

2121

Vir-

ginia Avenue, Washington; Joseph H . Abel, architect. Photograph Horydczak.

Ellissi

84

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE FIGURE

57.

TYPICAL

ROOF GARDENS TOP AND MIDDLE:

Two

Roof Gardens by L e Corbusier. From L u r f a t , TerTasses et jardtns. BOTTOM: A Roof-Garden Playground; Joseph H . Abel, architect. F r o m Abel and Severud, Apartment Houses.

T H E A P A R T M E N T HOUSE

85

help to protect the apartments immediately above from the noise and truck fumes. Elevators. Passenger elevators should be provided in all buildings over three stories in height; where the height exceeds five stones the tenants should have access to at least two elevators without having to walk more than one floor, either up or down, during periods when only one of them is in operation. For good service in buildings of more than five stories, a car speed of 3 50 feet per minute is recommended. Where there are 125 apartments above the first floor, the best elevator efficiency (as stated above) is obtained with two elevators. Practically all apartment-building elevators are now being equipped for fully automatic operation in order to eliminate the great expense of elevator operators. Tenants have made little objection to automatic operation when modern types of equipment have been used.10 In some low-rent projects savings have been effected by having the elevators stop only at alternate floors. Such an arrangement will save about a thousand dollars in doors and controls for each stop omitted, but it will force half the tenants to walk up or down one flight to reach their own floor. Where paired elevators are used, stops at alternate floors for each elevator may be arranged so that only when one elevator is out of service will the tenants have to walk a flight of stairs. It is questionable whether these systems save enough to make up for the inconvenience involved. Refuse Disposal. The only really practical method of disposing of garbage and trash is by means of incinerators, which should be conveniently accessible to every tenant. The expense of disposal is then cut to a minimum, for all that the management needs to do is to burn the material and remove the ashes, which in bulk are only about 1 per cent of the unburned material. Other schemes involving door-to-door collection or central collection stations to which the tenants must bring their refuse are never sanitary and are unsatisfactory to tenant and management alike. Roofs. Roof gardens, when properly planned, provide a pleasant and useful space much appreciated by tenants; moreover they are a sound investment for the owner because they not only enable him to obtain higher rents but also help to prevent vacancies. They provide a safe and secluded spot for mothers 10

In some localities self-service automatic elevators have proved dangerous because of the difficulty of policing, and robberies and criminal assaults have taken place in them. This is a serious matter and deserves more thought than it has received. T h e use of these automatic elevators should be advised with caution and only in the light of the conditions existing in each locality. F.d.

86

BUILDINGS FOR

RESIDENCE KIGLRE 5 8 .

APARTMENT

HOUSE BALCONIES LEFT: From Ribershus, Malmo, Sweden; E. S. Persson, architect. Courtesy School of Architecture, Columbia University, B E I O W , LEFT: Proposed Continuous Balconies; Joseph H. Abel, architect, BELOW, RIGHT: One Method of Constructing Balcony Railings; Joseph H. Abel, architect. The last two from Abel and Severud, Apartment Houses.

to tend small children or for sun bathers, and they provide a cool sitting place on hot summer nights. In planning them, allowance should be made for the weight of planting areas and the increased loads due to human occupancy, paving, and so forth. Proper means of egress must also be furnished; for large spaces most codes require two stairs. Roof-garden areas should be enclosed with a high masonry parapet, a chainlink fence, or some other secure protection. T h e use of fencing avoids the cracking and leakage frequently encountered in high masonry parapets and has the further advantage that it can be set well in from the edge of the roof, thus providing a safety measure for the inevitable show-off who is likely to

T H E A P A R T M E N T HOUSE

87

perch on a parapet and topple over. All areas to be walked on should be paved with a protective surfacing. Sun shelters, wind breaks, decorative walls, and trellises provide an opportunity for interesting architectural treatment. Vent stacks which come up in the roof-garden areas should be carried up at least seven feet above the roof; these may be treated decoratively with vine trellises. Suitable garden-type furniture should be provided, and consideration must be given to the location of all the various roof appurtenances, such as radio aerials, chimneys, and ventilating fans. (See Fig. 57.) SITE

PLANNING

In order to provide any project with a sound basis for the development of family life within it, a thorough study of all the factors affecting the building or group of buildings from both an artistic and a practical viewpoint is necessary. This should include a most careful adjustment of the building to its site and to the surrounding neighborhood. Grading. A careful survey of the topographical characteristics of the plot is essential both in the interests of economy and for the preservation of any desirable natural features, such as groups of trees and rock formations. T o ignore the existing topography, particularly on a rugged or steeply sloping site, will result in excessive grading costs and perhaps an unsightly collection of steep banks and terraces. T h e main objectives in grading for a project are: to create suitable and economical building sites; to carry off and dispose of surface water; to adapt each part of the site as perfectly as possible to its use; and to create a pleasing appearance. Orientation. T h e orientation of buildings with respect to sunlight is of more importance than their orientation with respect to prevailing breezes. In the central and northern latitudes of the United States, rooms which face from 2 5 degrees east of south to 2 5 degrees west of south will receive the maximum sun in the winter and the minimum in the summer. Where conditions are favorable, advantage should be taken of any possible views, and in relating the buildings to one another—a matter of extreme importance—this factor should be taken into account. Where feasible, buildings should be staggered to utilize views and to avoid limiting the outlook of any tenant to nothing but an apartment wall. Completely enclosed courts should never be considered; they not only cut off all possibility of view but also eliminate privacy and intensify noise. Open courts which are narrow in proportion to their length are also bad. T o achieve a maximum of privacy and a minimum

88

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

of noise reflection, courts should be wider than they are deep and, when possible, wings should be placed at obtuse angles. Consideration must also be given to noises arising from play areas and from traffic within and outside the project. Buildings should be placed as far as possible from main traffic arteries; along such arteries screens of trees or strategically situated low buildings will be helpful. Circulation. Project entrances should be located so as to be convenient to mass transportation and neighborhood facilities. The number of entrances should be kept to a minimum, and interior streets should be laid out to accommodate local traffic only. Where through streets cannot be avoided, the buildings should be arranged so as to have a maximum of protection from traffic noises and fumes, and overpasses or underpasses for pedestrians should be provided. Acute-angle intersections, especially where there is heavy traffic, are dangerous and should never be used, because the driver of a car entering a thoroughfare at such an angle is unable to see approaching traffic. Circulation within the project should be so designed as to keep the speed of traffic low, and local roads should be limited to the few necessary for adequate service to the project. Internal roads should provide easy access to the building entrances for the convenience of the tenants as well as of service and delivery trucks. Road widths, turnarounds, and the like must be laid out in conformity with local requirements in order to accommodate fire-fighting apparatus and police patrol cars and to facilitate mail delivery. Provisions must be made for the delivery of fuel and the removal of ashes, trash, and, if necessary, garbage. Gridiron street planning should be avoided; it is monotonous in appearance and uneconomical to build, since it requires much more street length per building than the superblock layout. Also avoid projects with too many angles and curves; such layouts are visually confusing, and it is impossible to devise a workable address system for them—one that will enable visitors and delivery men to find an address in them easily. Arbitrary layouts of walks and entrance approaches are frequently a source of trouble. Because people do not like to be forced to take a circuitous route, the easiest way to lead them to use roads and walks is to lay these out in a natural line, as direct as is feasible. Landscaping. Landscaping contributes immeasurably to the attractiveness of a project and must be carefully designed to enhance the appearance of the buildings and grounds. Whenever possible, natural features of an interesting character should be preserved and integrated into the general landscaping

T H E A P A R T M E N T HOUSE

89

scheme. The cold, institutional air of many large housing projects is largely due to ineffective planting. Where space is available it is desirable to set aside an area for allotment gardens, for many people are interested in gardening and will appreciate such a facility. These areas should be fenced, and sheds for tool storage should be provided. Water should be near at hand, and the type of soil should be investigated to make sure that it is suitable for the purpose. Provision should be made for sheltered places where adults may relax or indulge in sun bathing. Small areas for informal recreation, sitting areas for mothers with small children, and small children's play yards should be supplied. Sitting areas should be equipped with suitable benches or chairs and should be shaded with trees. There should be adequate room for the parking of baby buggies and a small paved area for children to play on, as well as some space for turf and a place where children may dig. Unless the areas can be well supervised it is best not to furnish sandboxes, because they are likely to become unsanitary and often accumulate broken glass and other dangerous debris. Aesthetic Aims. In spite of all the limitations which circumscribe the designer's work, nevertheless by proper study and skillful design he can still achieve a satisfactory site plan. Most large projects built thus far have failed to provide an air of domesticity and livability. Instead of human scale, variety, simplicity, and an atmosphere of relaxation they give the impression of an overpowering mass, monotonous and unending. But it must be remembered that low coverage alone will not produce a good visual effect; the buildings must also be properly related to one another and to the natural features of the site. The architect in making his plan on paper is too prone to consider the design as a flat pattern. This aspect of the site is of interest only to an occasional aviator; the aspect that really counts from the standpoint of the tenant is the view out of his window or the effect as the building or group is approached on foot or driving along the roadway. Patterns which look well on paper frequently disappear entirely when the actual project is viewed by a pedestrian, and only too often the effect produced on him is one of chaos and confusion. A valuable design aid in studying this angle of the problem is a model of the site and of the masses of the buildings to be erected. Such a model, even if crudely made, when viewed from the normal line of vision will be of great assistance in determining the actual appearance of the development. The individual buildings composing the project also require careful study. Large buildings or groups constructed of a dark red brick have a generally

9o

BUILDINGS F O R R E S I D E N C E

depressing and monotonous effect unless relieved by fairly extensive contrasting areas of white. Buildings of light-colored brick, stone, or concrete, on the other hand, have a much more pleasing effect and greatly alleviate the feeling of overwhelming mass generated by an expanse of an unrelieved dark color. Interest is better gained by careful attention to fenestration and variations in mass than by the addition of superfluous ornament. Variations in building height are of special value in giving beauty to a group. In view of the general mass of apartment buildings and the large window areas required, any attempt to apply historic styles in the design is doomed to failure. In two- and three-story groups, which are frequently built in pseudo-Colonial, the effect becomes tiresome because of the necessary repetitions in building shape and detail required for reasons of economy. The few variations used increase the sense of monotony rather than decrease it, and in a large project one seems at every turn in the road to come upon the same building that he has just passed around the corner. The use of acres of slate roofs, surmounted at frequent intervals by out-ofscale cupolas, seems like so much sheer waste, especially at a time when there is a housing shortage and both labor and materials are needed to create usable space. Such roofs on an apartment building generally fulfill no function that a flat roof cannot equally well fulfill. Buildings with flat roofs which are varied in height not only achieve a more interesting effect but also save money which can be spent to better advantage. Flat roofs moreover offer an opporunity for the creation of sun decks for tenant use, as noted earlier. Interest can be gained through the careful study of window sizes and placement and through careful manipulation of the building mass. A good example is seen in the Rockefeller Apartments in New York City, by Harrison & Fouilhoux. No applied ornament has been used on these buildings, but interest has been achieved through a careful study of fenestration and mass. It should be noted that the windows have been most effectively placed from the standpoint of both interior design and exterior appearance. The main entrance of an apartment house, being the focal point of the building design—at least from the viewpoint of a person approaching it— is the appropriate place for lavishness if the building is of a type that can afford or has need for an entrance that will catch the eye; here richly colored masonry materials combined with areas of plate glass can give a pleasing air of luxury. The impression a building produces when seen from a short distance will depend not only on color and fenestration but also to a large degree on interesting

T H E A P A R T M E N T HOUSE

91

massing. A profusion of minor breaks injected arbitrarily into the composition for show succeeds only in creating an air of restlessness. Large plain surfaces, on the other hand, give a feeling of dignity and repose and afford an opportunity for many delightful effects. A careful study of setbacks, penthouses, roof terraces, and other similar features above the principal parapet line is important, for if carefully arranged they are capable of contributing much to the building's silhouette. APARTMENT HOUSE TYPES

From the standpoint of either the tenant or the builder, both urban and suburban sites have their own inherent advantages and disadvantages. The city apartment offers the tenant quick accessibility to places of work, shopping districts, and amusement centers, and in addition sometimes the rather dubious advantage of a "swank" address; but these gains are usually at the expense of good light and air, outlook, and orientation, for under present land costs and zoning regulations such buildings are constructed on sites too crowded for a consideration of these amenities. This overcrowding of urban sites is not confined to buildings for the poor; buildings for the very rich have scarcely more breathing space. Most renters, rich or poor, are forced to accept whatever is offered in the way of living accommodations; they give little thought to the possibility or desirability of a different type. It is only when people actually see new arrangements or facilities that they awaken to a realization of what good design can offer them. Builders, like other producers of salable products, are only too eager to give the public what it wants (provided they can get the profit they think they deserve), but they are generally slow to believe that what the public wants is something different from what it has accepted in the past; for the public is not articulate. Furthermore, developers do not like to see their present projects rendered obsolete. Suburban sites generally offer more in the way of light, air, view, and outdoor facilities but at the price of more commuting time. Those amenities prevail here because usually the zoning laws in suburban areas require a lower density of population than obtains in the heart of the city; where such zoning does not exist, however, there is no advantage to be gained, except as lower land values permit lower densities to be profitable. The luxury-type apartment is sometimes encountered in the suburbs, and in the future it may be found there more often than it has been in the past.

92

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

Here this type of building offers the advantages of suburban surroundings combined with superior living accommodations to those who do not wish to undertake the responsibility of maintaining a house. Facilities for golf, tennis, riding, and other sports may provide the conveniences of a country club, and restaurants and housekeeping services may be offered to solve the servant problem. In many cities a desirable compromise has been made not far from the heart of the city in developments which provide many of the advantages of each type. One may travel in a relatively short time to a site where a density comparable to that of a suburb is feasible and where the advantages of light, air, and view, usually available only in suburban areas, can be found. The mid-twentieth-century demand for new housing in most localities is still far in excess of production. Surveys show that a large proportion of this demand is for rental units, in spite of the campaigns which have been waged—largely by the real-estate interests—to promote the ideal of home ownership. An overwhelming majority of city dwellers has always lived in rented dwellings, and with the growth of our cities the percentage of the population so housed has tended to increase. The accent on housing reform and city planning and the influence of government agencies have had a tremendous effect on apartment-building design. The Federal government, by its influence on credit and by its setting of interest rates, exercises considerable control over the volume of building. Through its policy of mortgage insurance, which sets up and enforces standards of design, construction, and land use, it also deeply influences the planning and design of many projects. T h e influence of city planning commissions and zoning regulations will probably result in more extensive controls of land use and neighborhood development. Such control, if wisely exercised, can be a tremendous force for the development of better housing. It is unfortunate that the use of controls and the adoption of regulations usually lag a decade or so behind the best creative thinking on the subject. Most of the existing apartment buildings have been designed with primary emphasis on financial profit, and the convenience and satisfaction of the tenants have thus been relegated to second place. In the case of low-rent projects this situation has resulted from the efforts of public authorities to provide housing within the price limits set by Congress and in the case of private operators from the effort to meet rapidly rising costs of construction.

T H E A P A R T M E N T HOUSE

93

These economic factors must be checked or circumvented or it will become impossible to build at all. We should not, however, lose sight of the true objective of housing—to provide suitable living facilities for the development of family life. It is frequently possible by careful study to construct desirable and livable dwelling units at no greater cost than that of poorly designed units. There are many factors which affect the quality of dwelling space, among them the shape and proportions of the various rooms, the circulation between them, the view into the apartment on entering, the various openings in the rooms in relation to the furniture and equipment to be used, and the orientation and views to the outside. Much work remains to be done in the formulation of standards of design and construction and in the investigation of people's living habits and requirements. Most standards at present, instead of being based on scientifically ascertained facts, are mere matters of opinion. Sound basic research should pay big dividends in advancing the quality of design and construction. Apartment buildings offer to us as architects a challenge to creative thinking and humane design. The direction our efforts should take has been pointed out in numerous outstanding projects, but we lag along the way, far, far short of the goal of an adequate supply of really habitable dwelling units for all the people. A successful apartment building is the product not only of good design and good construction but also of an adequate city plan and proper government controls that will create and preserve the necessary facilities and neighborhood environment, for in the final analysis no building can be entirely self-sufficient.

SUGGESTED ADDITIONAL READING FOR C H A P T E R

Abel, Joseph H., and Fred N . Severud, Apartment

2

Houses (New York: Reinhold

[CI947DColean, Miles L., and others, American Housing (New York: Twentieth Century Fund, 1944). John B. Pierce Foundation, Family Behaviour; Attitudes and Possessions (New York: the Foundation, 1944). Valuable material dealing with bedroom, bath, and closet layouts. Justement, Louis, Neiv Cities for Old (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1946). Contains interesting material on the financing of apartment houses. Mumford, Lewis, The Culture of Cities (New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1938). Sexton, Ralph W., American Apartment Houses. Hotels, and Apartment Hotels

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BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

(New York: Architectural Book Pub. Co., 1929). A large collection illustrating the types current before the 1929 crash; many are of the kind that gave rise to the term "Park Avenue slums"; valuable only historically. United States Federal Housing Administration, Architectural Planning and Procedure for Rental Housing (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1939). Low Rental Housing for Private Investment (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1940). Minimum Requirements for Rental Housing Projects (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1942). United States Federal Public Housing Authority, The Livability Problem of 1,000 Families, Bui. 28 (Washington: [Government Printing Office,] 1945). Minimum Physical Standards and Criteria for . . . FPHA-aided Urban LouRent Housing (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1945). Public Housing Design . . . (Washington- Government Printing Office, 1946). Wright, Henry, Rehousing Urban America (New York: Columbia University Press, 1935). Many valuable data on site planning, especially for garden apartments. Yorke, F. R. S., and Frederick Gibberd, The Modern Flat (London: Architectural Press, 1937). An excellent collection of examples, especially European. PAPERS AND PERIODICALS

Ackerman, Frederick L., "Lillian Wald Houses, New York [Frederick Ackerman and Lafayette Goldstone, architects; Sullivan A. S. Paterno, consultant engineer; Fred N. Severud, structural engineer] . . . a Building Types Study Guinea Pig," Architectural Record, Vol. 99 (1946), January, pp. 70-80. "Apartments," a portfolio including Benjamin A4oscowitz, "Planning for Maximum Income" (pp. 72-82), and Lewis Mauger, "Planning for Lower Maintenance" (pp. 83-92), Architectural Record, Vol. 96 (1944), October, pp. 71-92. Breuer, Marcel, " 'Stuyvesant Six,' a Redevelopment Study based on Stuyvesant Town," Pencil Points, Vol. 25 (1944), June, pp. 66-70. Coit, Elizabeth, "Housing from the Tenant's Viewpoint," in National Association of Housing Officials, 4 Papers on Housing Design; Monographs on Site and Unit Planning (Chicago: the Association, 1942); also reprinted in Architectural Record, Vol. 91 (1942), April, pp. 71-84. "Notes on the Design and Construction of the Dwelling Unit for the LowIncome Family," The Octagon, Journal of the American Institute of Architects, Vol. 13 (1941), October, pp. 10-30; November, pp. 7-22. "Garden Apartments . . ." Architectural Forum, Vol. 72 (1940), May, pp. 309-22. Mayer, Albert, and Julian Whittlesey, "Horse Sense Planning," Architectural Forum, Vol. 79 (1943), November, pp. 58-63; Vol. 80 (1944), January, pp. 69-80.

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"Sweden's Housing Solution, Kollektivhuset in Stockholm, Sven Markelius, architect," Pencil Points, Vol. 26 ( 1945), September, pp. 72-74. "Washington, D.C.; a Portfolio of Work | of Berla & Abel]," Architectural Forum, Vol. 85 (1946), August, pp. 81-96. Whittlesey, Julian, "The Skip Corridor Building Type Serves a Five-Fold Purpose," Architectural Record, Vol. 105 (1949), February, pp. 124—[ 128].

3

Hotels and Apartment Hotels By JOHN WELLBORN ROOT

H

A V I N G its origin ages ago in the caravansary of the East, the hotel of the twentieth century, as a building type, performs essentially the same functions as it did in the period of Genghis Khan or Tamerlane. Just as any caravansary on the road to Damascus served as a public resting place and social center in the pre-Christian era, so does the latest New York or Chicago hostelry serve the traveler today. And such, also, will be the role of the hotel of the future—of that promising future which will probably be known as the Atomic Age—for so long as people travel there will be need for shelters where they can temporarily receive rest and refreshment on their journeys. A hotel, as the word is understood today, is a building for the lodging and entertainment of travelers, these services being performed for compensation. With the hotel a definite building type in our civilization, as vital and permanent as the home, the church, the school, the office building, the factory, and other familiar structures of the twentieth century, what, then, is its present status from an architectural point of view? T o what extent has the designer of the contemporary hotel taken advantage of the latest advances in technology, of the newest inventions of applied science? These are questions eminently worth consideration. But before we seek their answers it might be well for us first to ascertain the origin of the modern hotel, look back into its beginnings, and see how it has slowly evolved down the ages into such impressive establishments as may be observed throughout the world in any modern city. It was not until the late seventeenth century that the French word hotel began gradually to replace the English word "inn" as applied to a public house or guest house.1 Then, about the time of the settlement of the thirteen 1 The earlier form of the word, hostel, remains in use today to describe various types of temporary guest houses, especially those for vacation use. See Chapter 4. Ed.

HOTELS A N D APARTMENT HOTELS

97

colonies in America, "hotel" began to gain currency in the Anglo-American world to signify a public inn. This use of the old French term is significant, for it is in the United States that the hotel as we know it today has attained its greatest and its most impressive development. But public guest houses in America continued to be called inns even after the Revolution; not until the construction of the Tremont House in Boston in 1829 did the word "hotel" come to have precisely the meaning we apply to it today. This Boston establishment, in its time a majestic edifice (which we shall discuss later), is considered the first true hotel, at least in the United States. Before the nineteenth century, public guest houses were known as inns, and it is as inns that the caravansaries of the East are characterized in the King James Version of the Bible. Even before the caravansary, with its caretaker and assistants, there had existed an even more primitive form of resting place for travelers known as a "khan," an unfurnished building which provided traders and their trains not only with shelter but with protection as well. With the appearance of the caravansary, however—usually an open court surrounded by arcades—the first type of public house operated by a staff of attendants appeared. These attendants saw to the safety of the goods, camels, and guests in their establishment. About that time another kind of traveler, the religious pilgrim, was cared for in temples or religious houses, a mode of hospitality which was to be greatly expanded during the time of the Crusades. When the Roman Empire was at its height, post stations were established on many of its great highways, but they were reserved solely for messengers of state and privileged persons. For the common people—for "man and beast" —the Romans maintained hospitia, or stabularia, which were uncomfortable and primitive and sometimes little more than stables. During the Middle Ages the monasteries served as hotels, providing food and shelter for wayfarers. Then, when traveling became more common at the time of the Crusades, special brotherhoods or orders were formed to extend hospitality to travelers, and hospices were set up for that purpose in the walled cities of Europe. About the fifteenth century, or during the early Renaissance, when trade and travel had greatly expanded, the first of the inns in the later sense of the word appeared in Europe. They were public houses where, for compensation, food and lodging were provided. Fulfilling an important social need of the time, such inns spread rapidly and soon were operating in England, where often they were named after the ruling family on whose land they were located.

98

BUILDINGS FOR

RESIDENCE F I G U R E 5 9 . T Y P I C A L ENGLISH CHESTER,

INN,

ENGLAND

The main entrance was through the passageway that led to the coach and carriage court at the rear. Courtesy Ware Library

The early English inns were usually constructed around a square courtyard which was entered by a covered passage—a style of construction not greatly different from that of the early caravansaries. This form was followed in the main by the old inns of Germany, France, and Italy. Incidentally, in England the common use of these courtyards b y strolling players—with the audience looking down from the rooms and balconies above—gave rise to the construction of such theater buildings as the Old Globe at London in Shakespeare's day. T h e literature of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries is replete with descriptions and references to inns and roadhouses. T h e Maypole in Dickens's Barnaby Rudge is typical of the ancient English wayside inn. N o t a few of the old high-gabled, half-timbered hostelries still exist in England. Since the thirteen American colonies were founded b y emigrants from England, it was natural that the earliest inns built along the colonial post roads and seaboard turnpikes were similar in style to those of the mother country. Colonial innkeepers even copied English names for their public houses, but at the time of the Revolution these royalist appellations were replaced by such descriptive titles as the Bunch of Grapes (Boston) and Fraunces' Tavern ( N e w York City). T h e term "tavern" has often been used

H O T E L S A N D A P A R T M E N T HOTELS

99

interchangeably with "inn," but strictly speaking the former refers to a place providing only food and drink. In the colonial South, early taverns were often known as "licensed ordinaries." In operation, these pioneer inns differed from their English prototypes in that a fixed fee (usually a dollar per day) was charged for food and lodging, an all-inclusive payment system that became known as the "American plan" in contradistinction to the "European plan," which figures food and lodging separately. Many of these early public houses, forerunners of this country's magnificent hotels of today, still stand on their original sites and are interestingly described by Elise Lathrop in her Early American Inns and Taverns.2 It goes almost without saying that the evolution of the inn, and later of the hotel, took advantage of all new improvements in the dwelling house as they were introduced; in the matter of illumination, for example, innkeepers adopted each new method of lighting as soon as it appeared in the home. During colonial times the inns were lighted by tallow candles, and after the Revolution whale-oil lamps were used. Then just before the Civil War came the kerosene lamp, which was superseded in turn on the introduction of illuminating gas. When Edison patented his electric lamp in 1880, this new mode of lighting spread rapidly; the first use of electric lights in a hotel was made shortly after that date in the Hotel Everett, New York City. With the introduction of new comforts and conveniences, it might be expected that the inns and hotels of the Atlantic seaboard would be far ahead of those in the newly settled regions of the interior, but this was not generally the case; Charles Dickens, traveling in America in 1842, writes in glowing terms regarding many of the inland hotels where he stopped overnight. He mentions the Gait House in Louisville as "a splendid house; and we were as handsomely lodged as though we had been in Paris." He calls the Planters House in St. Louis "an excellent house, and the proprietors have most beautiful notions of providing the creature comforts. Dining alone with my wife in our own room, one day, I counted fourteen dishes on the table at once." And of their stay in Columbus he writes that they had "excellent apartments in a very large unfinished hotel called the Neil House, which were richly fitted with the polished wood of the black walnut, and opened on a handsome portico and stone verandah, like rooms in some Italian Mansion." After the Tremont House was built in Boston in 1829, the hotel era in the United States—and in fact throughout the world—began in earnest. That 2

New York: McBride, 1926.

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE F I G U R E 6 0 . OLD TREMONT BOSTON, SETTS. PLAN

HOUSE, MASSACHU-

MAIN-FLOOR AND

EXTERIOR

VIEW

Isaiah Rogers, architect Said to have been the first true city hotel that had many private rooms, magnificent public rooms, and advanced plumbing equipment. Plan from [Eliot] Description of Tremont House . . . ; engraving from Hinton, History and Topography of the United States

hostelry, its fame spreading rapidly as the most sumptuous ever built, stood unrivaled for years and aroused the envy of other cities in the country (Fig. 60). It was a three-and-a-half story edifice designed in the Greek Revival style, its façade was made of white granite blocks, and the structure is said to have cost $300,000. The architect who designed it was Isaiah Rogers, subsequently to become America's leading hotel designer in his time. Among the innovations at the Tremont was a lock on the door of each of its 170 rooms,

HOTELS AND APARTMENT

HOTELS

IOI

FIGURE 6L. THE OLD ASTOR HOUSE, BROADWAY, NEW YORK Isaiah Rogers, architect The Astor House carried further the trend to luxury and elaborate equipment started by the Tremont House. Courtesy New-York Historical Society

a bowl, pitcher, and free soap in every room, gaslight in the public rooms, water closets and bathing rooms on the first floor and in the basement, a French cuisine, and "rotunda men" (the world's first bellboys). Then came the year 1836, a decisive one in hotel history; for it was then that the fur trader John Jacob Astor saw the completion of his New York establishment, the Astor House. With his entry into the hotel field, Astor, the founder of one of America's greatest fortunes, became a pace setter in the nineteenth-century hotel business. As builder and owner of the Astor House he made N e w York the hotel center of the world, an achievement which his descendants were to continue on an even greater scale with their series of magnificent Manhattan hostelries, each one grander than the one which preceded it. The Astors, with great wealth at their disposal, constructed hotels which not only provided food and lodging on a luxurious plane but also established the hotel as a social and civic center. In the Astor House, designed by the architect of the Tremont House, John Jacob Astor had a building which almost immediately eclipsed the Boston

102

FIGURE 0 2 . THREE

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

EARLY RESORT

HOTELS

ABOVE: Pavilion Hotel, Sharon Springs, N e w York. Photograph Turpin Bannister, CENTER: Rockaway Marine Pavilion, Rockaway, N e w Y o r k ; T o w n , Davis & Dakin, architects. Courtesy New-York Historical Society, BELOW: Senter House, Center Harbor, New Hampshire. From American Architect.

HOTELS AND APARTMENT HOTELS

103

hostelry as the "world's finest hotel." In the booming 1830's and 1840's, when the United States was rapidly expanding and railroads were making their first appearance, the Astor House was considered a marvel. It was six stories high and had more than three hundred rooms. In addition, it offered the innovation of water closets and cold running water on all its floors. This first hotel to bear the Astor name remained standing on its original site at Broadway and Vesey Street for almost eighty years, an old landmark in a changing city (Fig. 6 1 ) . Sometime before the Astor House was built there arose in the United States another type of hotel which fulfilled a social need and developed in style and grandeur as the country grew in material riches. This was the resort hotel. One of the earliest was the Catskill Mountain House, a fashionable resort for N e w Yorkers in the 1820's and 1830's. Other resort hostelries appeared at such spas as Saratoga Springs in the North and White Sulphur Springs in the South. In the 1820's there developed, also, the seaside resort. One of the first, established at Nahant, Massachusetts, became the forerunner of such fashionable beach resorts as Newport in Rhode Island and Cape May, Long Branch, and Atlantic City on the N e w Jersey coast. At each of these places, hotels were built on a large, comfortable scale, with long verandas spanning their façades. (See Fig. 62.) In Florida, at a later period, resort hotels were often designed in the Spanish manner, as, for instance, the famous and still popular old Ponce de Leon Hotel in St. Augustine, by Carrère & Hastings. From that type of hostelry there evolved the residential hotel, in which guests remained for long periods and some even made their permanent home. Eventually the residential hotel appeared in all the leading cities of the United States. Known today as the apartment hotel, it offers suites of rooms, either furnished or unfurnished, in a manner which will be described later in more detail. Perhaps the most famous and glamorous hotel in the history of the country—if not of the world—was the old Waldorf-Astoria, which stood on the west side of Fifth Avenue, between 33rd and 34th Streets, in New York City. It was an imposing "twin" edifice, of red brick and sandstone, designed in the German Renaissance style by a noted architect of the time, Henry J. Hardenbergh. The first section of this hotel was built in 1893 by John Jacob Astor's grandson, William Waldorf Astor (afterwards Lord Astor of England). He called it the Waldorf Hotel. Then, in 1897, his cousin, John Jacob Astor IV, built the second section adjoining the Waldorf, and the two units,

B U I L D I N G S FOR

RESIDENCE FIGURE 6 3 . T H E

EARLIER

WALDORF-ASTORIA, NEW

YORK

Henry J . Hardenbergh, architect Courtesy Waldorf-Astoria

lliäifil ISrfföu)®

operated jointly by one of America's great hotel managers, George C. Boldt, became known as the Waldorf-Astoria (Fig. 63). One of the first to join the Waldorf Hotel staff in 1893 was a Swiss-born young man named Oscar Tschirky, afterwards renowned as "Oscar of the Waldorf." About ten years later, on Broadway at 44th Street, William Waldorf Astor built another sumptuous hostelry, the Hotel Astor, which brought about the emergence of Times Square; here in due time appeared the Knickerbocker Hotel, built by John Jacob Astor IV. Subsequently the latter erected still another hotel, the St. Regis, distinctly luxurious in character. In recent years one of the principal sights of New York City, on Park Avenue, has been the forty-six-story Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, which is said to have cost $40,000,000 to build and furnish. During and following the period when the Astor cousins were building their hotels, each one taller and grander than its predecessor, other men were competing in the field, and some of their hostelries were to become almost as renowned as the Astor houses. Such Manhattan hotels as the Grand Union, the Park Avenue, the Murray Hill, the Plaza, the Savoy, the Vanderbilt, and

HOTELS A N D APARTMENT HOTELS

FIGURE 6 4 . GRAND PACIFIC HOTEL, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS Photograph Barnum & Barnum and Commercial Photographic Co.

the Biltmore are, or were, known favorably throughout the country, as is the Ritz-Carlton, which belongs to the international chain of Ritz hotels. As for the Biltmore, it is perhaps the first hotel in the world to be built over railroad tracks. Outside of New York and equally renowned are, or were, the Willard and the Raleigh in Washington; the Parker House, Young's, the Tremont House, and the Vendome in Boston; the old St. Charles in New Orleans; the Burnet House in Cincinnati; the Auditorium, the Grand Pacific (Fig. 64), the Palmer House, and the Sherman in Chicago; the Stratford and the Lafayette in Philadelphia; the Brown Palace in Denver; the Baldwin in San Francisco; and the Southern Hotel in St. Louis. An innovation in hotel design was the combined hotel, theater, and office building erected in Chicago in 1889 and widely known as the Auditorium (Fig. 65). Thomas E. Tallmadge, in his authoritative Architecture in Old Chicago,3 says of this building: "It not only inflated the pride of the citizenry well nigh to the bursting point, but its importance and fame soon jumped over local limitations, and the great building became first of national and then of international significance." The Auditorium was the work of Louis Sullivan, one of America's greatest architects, in partnership with another well-known Chicago architect of the period, Dankmar Adler. After the great Chicago fire of 1871, fireproof hotels appeared. One of the 3

Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1941.

io6

FIGURE 6 5 .

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

AUDITORIUM

HOTEL, CHICAGO,

ILLINOIS. EXTERIOR,

BARROOM,

AND OFFICE A d l e r & Sullivan, architects T h e revolutionary expression of one of the most original architects of his time. Photographs Chicago Architectural Photographic

HOTELS AND APARTMENT HOTELS

FIRST

FLOOR

BALL

ROOM

FIGURE 6 6 . ROOSEVELT NEW YORK.

HOTEL,

MAIN-FLOOR,

BALLROOM-FLOOR, TYPICAL-FI.OOR

AND

PLANS

George B. Post & Sons, architects Plans characteristic of the large city hotel of the 1920's.

TYPICAL

FLOOR

first of these, the Park Avenue Hotel in New York City, was built by the department store magnate, A. T . Stewart. About this time fire escapes came into use; where these were not installed, however, safety for the guest was more or less provided for by a coiled rope, one end of which was attached to the radiator or some other fixed object in the room. Later, Frank Lloyd Wright, a pupil of Louis Sullivan's, in his unusual and brilliant design of the Imperial Hotel at Tokyo (1916) introduced a method of hotel construction which could withstand earthquake shocks.

io8

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

FIGURE 6 7 . ROOSEVELT HOTEL, NEW YORK. EXTERIOR AND VIEW OF LOBBY FROM TEAROOM George B. Post & Sons, architects Distinguished by a characteristic search for classic grandeur.

Courtesy Roosevelt Hotel

HOTELS AND APARTMENT HOTELS

109

Another Chicago architect, William Le Baron Jenney, is generally credited with evolving the steel-skeleton method of construction; this, together with the invention of the elevator and pioneering work on foundations done by the elder John W . Root (also of Chicago), made possible not only the skyscraper office building but also the skyscraper hotel. Thus the way was cleared for the eventual construction of such gigantic twentieth-century hostelries as the Stevens Hotel in Chicago and the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel on Park Avenue in N e w York City. In the same year (1904) that William Waldorf Astor built his Hotel Astor on what is now Times Square, energetic forty-one-year-old Ellsworth M. Statler went Astor one better by erecting inside the grounds of the St. Louis World's Fair the largest hostelry in the world at that time, a spacious edifice containing 2,257 rooms. From that date, E. M. Statler forged steadily to the front as a hotel operator. Four years after his St. Louis project, he built in his native city of Buffalo a new type of commercial hotel, which among other things offered a bathroom with every room. As nearly all traveling men know, Statler subsequently built hostelries in Cleveland, Detroit, St. Louis, New York City (in this case as operator for the Pennsylvania Railroad), again in Buffalo (to replace his original hotel), and finally in Boston. At the time of his death in 1928, E. M. Statler was regarded as one of America's foremost hotel operators. All the establishments that he founded can boast marked advances in hotel planning, design, and construction, a policy that is continued in the newest link of the Statler chain, the Hotel Statler in Washington, even though it was completed in 1943 during the Second World War. With this, one of the last large hotels built up to the middle of the twentieth century, our story of the evolution of the modern hotel is brought up to date. Now let us examine the commercial hotel as it is today, in order to evaluate from an architectural point of view this most characteristic of contemporary building types. COMMERCIAL

HOTELS

The commercial hotel, as one can gather from the story of its development, fulfills just as important a function in our present-day metropolitan civilization as does that other characteristic twentieth-century structural type, the skyscraper office building. It serves as both guest house and civic center. In many commercial hotels, especially in cities where conventions are frequent and large, from a third to a half of their space may be devoted to public-

I IO

BUILDINGS FOR

RESIDENCE

function rooms, where such events as banquets, balls, conventions, and exhibitions are held. A n y study of the modern hotel, commercial or otherwise, necessarily has to be written in general terms, for no t w o hotels are exactly alike. Each hotel, although some basic, standardized building procedures have been followed in its construction, is the result of an individual problem solved for the owner by the architect—a problem involving not only the amount of capital to be invested but also such local considerations as the prevailing climate of the region, the area of the building site, zoning and construction ordinances, and vehicular and pedestrian traffic. Site. Obviously of first concern in the construction of a hotel is the selection of the site. Formerly it was the practice of hotel owners or operators—especially those concerned with commercial hotels—to choose sites within the business area where there was a great deal of traffic; manifestly such central locations increased the hotels' income from shops, restaurants, and the like. Sites like this, of course, were high-priced, and naturally their cost had ultimately to be liquidated largely by income derived through ground-floor rentals. Another factor which led to the selection of such a site was that it was usually convenient to and often within walking distance of the shopping and theater districts and all transportation facilities. Although these factors still operate, it is now being recognized that a location with a high value for shops is not necessarily the best hotel site. If a site has little value in this respect it will probably cost less than one that has more; also, in planning a hotel for such a site the architect will not have to provide large areas for shops. A n outstanding example of hotels where considerable space had to be devoted to shops may be seen in the Palmer House in Chicago. Here the land value was so high that the entire first floor had to be set apart for rentals, and the hotel itself was relegated to the upper floors. This trend reached its mid-century climax in the Terrace Plaza Hotel, Cincinnati, Ohio, designed by Skidmore, Owings & Merrill (Figs. 71-73). Here the entire hotel was placed, high in the air, above a large department store; on the ground floor it has only a small entrance lobby leading to its elevators. Nevertheless the new tendency is to overlook shop values, together with the possibility of some loss from the lack of luncheon or coffee-shop service; large sites may now be obtained away from busy and congested areas, thus making possible hotels with more light and air in their bedrooms and public rooms than formerly was the case. In addition, this latest trend means that

HOTELS AND APARTMENT HOTELS

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The modern hotel depends more on automobile transportation than did its predecessor, seeks quieter interiors, and uses a smaller proportion of the site.

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-

cessful community serves a diversity of needs and caters not only to various social groups—single persons, married couples, and families with children— but also to individuals who want to escape from housekeeping as well as those who want to continue their normal domestic set-up. These camps in the truest sense become integrated neighborhoods with a social health rarely achieved in the year-round impersonality of the big city. Such camps usually are non-profit and are developed by trade unions, cooperatives, and cultural groups. T h e y are often large, sometimes reaching an enrollment of over a thousand. Yet their decentralization and diversity are such that they do not become institutional and impersonal as in the second English example. T h e y provide a well-rounded social life at a cost based on the income level of their members, and in the fullest sense they are the successor

CAMPS AND DORMITORIES

>5"

FIGURE 9 3 . CAMP T A M I M E N T ,

PENNSYLVANIA.

SITE PLAN AND DORMITORY

PLAN

Robin & Vogel, architects Decentralization and the careful arrangement of elements permit the preservation of the natural quality of this site. References f o r the site plan are: 4: Couple Bungalows. 8: Bath Building and Sun Deck. 9: Men's Cabins. 10: Administration. 12: Dining Hall. 15: Boiler shop. 19: Helps Quarters. 20: Staff Quarters. 21: Women's Cabins. 22: Athletic Director. 24: Boating Facilities. 25: Social Hall. 26: Theater. 30: Golf Club House. 35: School. 36: Season Family Cabins.

of the nineteenth-century resort hotel. One of the best examples is Unity House, a camp for some one thousand persons, members of the International Ladies Garment Workers Union, on a 750-acre site at Forest Park, Pennsylvania. Its earlier buildings were designed by William Lescaze and the more recent ones by Robin & Vogel. Its social life is centered in a large community building containing a lobby, administrative offices, a lounge, a tearoom, and

BUILDINGS FOR

RESIDENCE

FIGURE 9 4 . CAMP T A M I M K N T , PENNSYLVANIA. EXTERIOR AND INTERIOR OF THE THEATER

AND

INTERIOR OF THE DINING HALL Robin & Vogel, architects An architectural treatment consistent with the purpose. Photographs Ezra Stoller —Pictorial Services

a large dining room (Fig. 92). T h e dining hall, with its lamella arched roof, is the focal point. There is also a simple social and theatrical hall. T h e accommodations consist of two-story dormitories and three basic types of cottage groups: two-family duplex cottages with two rooms, bath, and porch for each family; week-end bungalows for single persons, with four separate rooms off a central hall and a central bathroom; cottages with eight rooms for eight married couples, with central bathroom and toilet. In this camp all meals are centrally prepared. T h e most thoroughly developed trade-union camp is Tamiment, designed by Robin & Vogel. It carries the arrangements we have seen at Unity House

CAMPS A N D DORMITORIES

153

one stage further (Fig. 93). Here the cottage neighborhood of some fortyfour family cottages, with their own baths and kitchenettes, includes a supervised children's recreation area and a nursery school which relieve parents from having to look after their children. The second type of accommodation consists of from one hundred and fifty to two hundred bungalows, with single rooms off a central hall and central washing facilities. The third, for .use primarily by single persons but available also to married couples, is a well-equipped dormitory. The camp's communal buildings consist of an administration building, a dining hall, a theater (Fig. 94), and a social hall. Some of the families do their own full housekeeping, whereas others use central catering facilities. CAR TOURIST

CAMPS

Under this heading come the motley collection of transient overnight camps along motor highways. Though often situated at scenic spots, the majority —since they supply only limited indoor and outdoor recreational facilities or none at all—are on smaller sites. They are closely related mainly to the highway, but they must contrive to provide privacy and a temporary refuge from its monotony and noise. The guest should be able to drive his car direct to his sleeping quarters (Fig. 95) and retire without unpacking his vehicle; therefore the usual form is the individual cabin or cottage with its own car port. This arrangement requires bringing vehicular traffic into the project at many points and at the same time separating it from the pedestrian circulation between individual cottages and between these and such central eating and recreational facilities as are provided. The site is laid out rather like a superblock, either with car access around the periphery and the pedestrian community inside or the reverse. The communal building, most likely based on the service station for the cars, emphasizes twenty-four-hour feeding and may provide additional social space, such as a dance floor. Since the average motorist is desirous of comforts after a long drive, it is customary to provide at least hot and cold water and if possible a separate toilet in each cottage, except where necessarily low charges preclude this expense. Sometimes central feeding is entirely eliminated and small cooking arrangements are provided in the cottages instead. If the site is attractive, a good solution is a flexible design that renders the camp usable both for overnight travelers and for those who wish to stop over for rest. The tourist camp could achieve great economies through standardization

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

>54

U

COOKINGp

V

FIGURE 9 5 . PROPOSED MOTOR C A M P . SITE P L A N , CABIN P L A N , AND CABIN ELEVATION Ernest Payer, architect

CAMPS AND DORMITORIES

»55

DOfcM;TOB.iC
79

PLANNING

Fort Dupont Housing, Washington (National Capitol Housing Authority). Photograph Gottscho-Schleisner. BELOW: Stuyvesant T o w n and Peter Cooper Village, for the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company. Air View. Photograph Thomas Airviews. ABOVE:

Open spaces, trees, and human scale humanize a project; vast size. Gargantuan buildings, and overcrowding make f o r inhumanity. p r e c e d e n t e d n u m b e r of d w e l l i n g s f o r v e r y - l o w - i n c o m e

people, a n e w

ap-

p r o a c h w a s r e q u i r e d . T h e o l d t e n e m e n t p r o v i d e d shelter, b u t it deteriorated into a slum. T h e n e w p r o g r a m w a s a s l u m c l e a r a n c e p r o g r a m ; it w o u l d h a v e

i8o

B U I L D I N G S F O R RESIDENCE

FIGURE I I J . CONTRASTED SH E PLANS ABOVE: Queensbridge Houses, New York; William F. R. Ballard, chief architect; Henry S. Churchill, Frederick G . Frost, Burnett C. Turner, associated architects, BEI.OW: Stuyvesant Town, New York, for the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company; the Company's Board of Design, architects.

been folly to ignore the physical causes for the old slums when building anew. Moreover, since government funds were being used, the requirement was for forward-looking standards and for dwellings that might reasonably be expected to maintain quality for the period of their financial life (the period

PROBLEMS OF MASS SHELTER FIGURE

I 16.

CENTER

LINE,

181 MICHIGAN.

SITE PLAN

Saarinen, Swanson & Saarinen, architects A plan that combines economy, a sufficiency of well-arranged open spaces, and a definite community integration. From Architectural Forutn

FIGURE

117.

CENTER LINE, T W O GENERAL

MICHIGAN. VIEWS

Saarinen, Swanson & Saarinen, architects Courtesy Eero Saarinen

182 —I

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE I

I

I EAST

FIGURE

I 18. JAMES

WELDON J O H N S O N HOUSES, N E W

II5TH.

STREET

Y O R K . SITE

PLAN

Julian Whittlesey, Harry M. Prince, Robert J . Reiley, architects A large high-density urban project brilliantly planned to conserve the greatest amount of usable open space.

required for complete amortization)—which would surely be less, even at sixty years, than their physical existence. It was easy to see that the cost of such dwellings could either be allowed to get out of hand—to the detriment of the program—or be kept down, easily enough, to the detriment of their livability. T h e problem, therefore, resolved itself into the question: What constitutes a minimum dwelling for decent, safe, and healthy living? This was not and is not a simple question, particularly if "minimum" is taken literally and "livability" is taken seriously. T h e demand for dwellings would be far greater than the supply; tenants would have no "or equal" to choose from, and they would be fitted to their dwellings by rigidly prescribed rules for size-of-family occupancy. How big should a living room be for a family of x people? How big should

P R O B L E M S O F MASS S H E L T E R

183

a bedroom be, and at what age should an infant be rated a person and have a room or share one with another person other than his parents? Storage space —what possessions do "people" have? What about eating, should it be in the living room or in the kitchen, and how often do people eat? What about play and study for small children, for adolescents? What about privacy anyway.

184

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

FIGURE

I20.

J A M E S WELDON J O H N S O N

HOUSES.

T H R E E VIEWS Julian Whittlesey, Harry M. Prince, Robert J . Reiley, architects Variations in building height and the beauty of the carefully studied detail prevent monotony. Courtesy New York Housing Authority

and family tensions, company, the radio, the sick person? Where can laundry be done and dried—do poor people do it themselves or send it out? And what about the baby? When dwellings are above the minimum, many of these questions do not arise; on a minimal basis, they are all present and must have at least a compromise answer. A vast mass of sociological research went into the study of public housing projects, and in spite of a good deal of over-centralized control in Washington a great number of different solutions were evolved. These variations were developed usually in different localities; the same city and its general area

P R O B L E M S O F MASS S H E L T E R

185

tended continually to repeat the same plan, and almost invariably each project was a repetition of identical units. It was not that the architects were unaware of the problem, but rather that it was not faced realistically. Architects who would have shuddered at giving their private clients a "standard" plan were convinced that the "statistical average" of family needs, as set forth in sociological studies, had real meaning. In their solutions of the problem of living in a strictly limited area they showed far more ingenuity than imagination. Even so, certain objectives were striven for and in some cases achieved. Plans were developed which had satisfactory privacy and in which the bathroom was accessible from all bedrooms and from the living room without passing through any other room. A few plans succeeded in giving cross or corner ventilation to every room. Almost none provided really adequate space for family activities, particularly in families with two or more children. Facilities for laundering were almost always insufficient; the problem of indoor clothes drying was never solved, except in the common laundries of large apartment buildings. Storage space for children's toys, rooms for tinkering and for the hobbies of young and old, and shelving for canned goods and for spare possessions were all lacking in housing projects. It is doubtful whether the newest fancies in space-saving devices make up for them. There is physical comfort as well as satisfaction in having just plain unassigned space in the dwelling to be used as the occupant wishes. One solution to this problem might be the provision of undivided "loft" space which each family could divide as it liked by means of movable partitions; only bathrooms would be permanently enclosed. At the other extreme might be the provision of a unit completely furnished with built-in furniture. The essential thing would be to try different combinations in one project, so that varying human needs could be given expression and expansion. Within cach project a greater diversification of solutions to these primary space needs would automatically give greater variety and interest. The inner monotony so unhappily common to all large-scale housing, private as well as public, is often the result of a failure to use imagination in solving the needs of different kinds of families. A family of six differs greatly in its living habits from a family of three. The family relationship between a single child and its parents is of another order entirely from that which exists between parents and four children. Yet almost all unit layouts in any one project differ only in the size of the living room, no matter what the size of the family. Units for old people and for "one-person families" are seldom provided. These

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE are grievous lacks, for since people in the income brackets concerned have little or no choice of place to live they find themselves compressed into a world of physical standardization which, in the case of young people and children, is apt to be stultifying.1 Much of the stereotyped design stemmed from the inertia of the architects and the unimaginative caliber of the average administrator of a local authority, but perhaps even more it was due to the fetish of "large-scale standardization." That there was a point of diminishing returns in the use of a standard plan apparently occurred to no one, nor did anyone realize that under our neolithic building system the essential saving—at least beyond a certain point—lay in the quantity of repetitive materials used and not in how that material was assembled into buildings. The most progressive patterns were set not under the aegis of the public housing movement but under the Defense Housing program and by the Department of Agriculture in its camps for migrating workers on the West Coast. It was under the stress of war-time needs, too, that the importance of community facilities as a necessary supplement to minimum living quarters was fully brought out. Grudgingly such concessions as "community buildings" were made to former slum-dwellers, who were supposed to be thankful that they got anything at all. War workers were in a position to demand, and did demand, that they be given facilities which would enable them to meet socially, to eat out, to dance, and live like normal human beings. The refusal, in the early war days, to provide funds for such facilities was quickly reversed. Some of the resulting community structures and groups showed a fine architectural quality; in both plan and design they went far beyond anything the public housing program had permitted to come into being. No discussion of mass housing can avoid at least a mention of that horrid word "préfabrication." The manufacturers of so-called prefabricated houses were given every encouragement and opportunity; none of them was able to produce a "key-in-lock" job in quantity or at prices comparable to the production and cost of "site préfabrication," that is, organization on the job of 1 Conceivably one might have in any large project multi-storv apartments with communal restaurant facilities and one- or two-room apartments for older people or young couples; lower apartment buildings with an attached nursery school and larger suites, variously arranged for small families where both parents worked; row houses with individual gardens and back yards for larger families; and even, where possible, individual houses in plots of a quarter of an acre or more to permit some food raising. T h e opportunities for interesting groupings—for true three-dimensional architectural composition—offered by such a varied-dwelling community are obvious, and housing design with such a program would become an inspiring challenge. Ed.

PROBLEMS OF MASS SHELTER

FIGURE

121.

FARM

SECURITY

ADMINISTRATION

MIGRATORY

187

LABOR CAMP,

YUBA CITY, CALIFORNIA. AIR VIEW Vernon DeMars, chief architect for Farm Security Administration. Courtesy Library of Congress

standardized methods of cutting lumber and routing the work. In the field of fireproof or fire-safe construction nothing at all has been accomplished. The reason would appear to be a failure to comprehend the essence of an industrialized house, which is the elimination of all handcraft labor and the inclusion of everything either essential or desirable in one shell complete at the factory. The Dymaxion is the only design that has in it the germ of what the industrialized house will be—a completely manufactured and assembled unit, easily shipped and re-assembled, needing nothing whatever added to it except a water connection. Any approach which involves the use of craft labor for completion of the unit for occupancy will not be able to take advantage of the savings of machine-and-assembly-line production. AESTHETIC

CONSIDERATIONS

For the architect there were new problems of aesthetics no less formidable than those of plan and social content. In so far as the aesthetic question was honestly faced, the considerations previously discussed unavoidably became part of the problem; even where formalism or some other a priori method

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE HORACE

HARDING

BOULEVARD

A - 13 STORY

APT

B-

3

STORY

APT. BLDGS.

BLDGS.

C-

2

STORY

ROW HOUSES

D - M A I N SHOPPING CENTER E - AUXILIARY

SHOPPING

BLDGS.

CENTERS

F-GARAGES G - NURSERY

SCHOOL

H-PUBLIC

SCHOOL

I-BOILER

PLANT

J-PARKING K-RECREATIONAL L-WOODED M-TOTS*

PICNIC

AREA AREA

PLAYGROUNDS

N-THEATER

FIGURE

122.

KRF.SH MEADOWS HOUSING DEVELOPMENT, QUEENS, N E W

YORK.

PLAN Voorhees, Walker, Foley & Smith, architects A large shopping center, two 13-story buildings, groups of 3-story apartment houses, and row houses all combined in a plan remarkable f o r its order, variety, and charm.

of design was the conscious approach, the logic of site layout and the impressiveness of the social ideal became pervasive. In aesthetic expression, as in planning, the architect was accustomed to a reasonable freedom and liberality. His aim—and this was true of eclectic and functionalist alike—was to state, in three dimensions and through arrangements of material as space enclosure, the status of his client and himself. In addition, when he had thought of large-scale work or had received commissions for it, it had been in terms of the monumental group, institutional or civic. In the large housing projects, these standard conditions were all changed. He was beset by government requirements. There was not even reasonable liberality for the execution of the work; in fact, stinginess ruled. Instead of a client he had "the people" as client, and it was obvious that the monumental was not their dish. On the other hand, he had new and stirring concepts to

P R O B L E M S O F MASS S H E L T E R

189

work with. Here, in each project, was a miniature new world in the making. Here was an opportunity to make visible a small part of the future as it might be if rational men were allowed to plan it for the good of all. Such a purpose should, one would expect, find reflection in clarity of form, freedom in the use of space, directness in the use of materials. Unfortunately the aesthetic problems of large-scale housing have been much neglected; little serious attention has been paid to them either by designers or by critics. This is a serious matter, for, if we are to develop an architecture that is founded on the needs of the community and gives expression to its spirit, a method and a critique are essential. A philosophy of form and space must be evolved for the larger aspects of urban architecture. The failure of the great housing developments to stir the spirit has already reacted violently in their disfavor. As this author has remarked elsewhere: Regardless of the present unpopularity of anything having to do with aesthetics, the public still responds to the appeal of beautiful and orderly public spaces and buildings. "Public Works" of a spectacular nature are readily accepted, regardless of cost; the most frequently heard criticism of public housing projects is not their cost but their banality and even ugliness. T o a remarkable extent people prefer stones to bread, if only the stones are those of Venice.3 Certainly purposeful creation should be as possible here as in the composition of civic groups, however different the aims and expression may be. Human scale should be the keynote, as human living is the keynote of the specific purpose. Not grandeur but intimacy, not the hyperbole of the column but the understatement of the doorway, the invitation to stay, the exact definition of simple space, the satisfaction of the community center or shopping center—these are the objectives, in part at least. That our present projects appear to have been done not merely perfunctorily but with actual distaste for their doing is significant; such, to the degradation of architecture, seems to be the case. Some of the smaller projects do have charm, but most of them are undistinguished and mediocre. The big city projects, private as well as public, as a rule are incredibly bad—heavy and dull, unpleasantly fenestrated, monotonous and bleak. If there is any joy in living in them, joy of the eye is not among the pleasures; even the slums had more color and infinitely more personality. T o note that the visual quality goes down as the density of population goes up will not excuse this dreariness, although it may help to explain it. No urban 2

Henry Churchill, The City Is the People (New York: Reynal & Hitchcock fc19451).

BUILDINGS F O R R E S I D E N C E FIGURE FRESH

123. MEADOWS

HOUSING DEVELOPMENT, QUEENS, N E W

YORK.

T W O VIEWS

Voorhecs, Walker, Foley & Smith, architects A housing project that is a true community. Photographs Sigurd Fischer, courtesy Voorhecs, Walker, Foley & Smith

housing project in the United States has the clarity of Rockefeller Center, let us say, or the bright strength of the best Brazilian apartments or even of the best of the pre-Hitler work in Germany. And, except for two or three projects on the Pacific Coast, the better small developments are charming in a reminiscent way rather than as direct expressions of any aesthetic purpose. MASS HOUSING AND T H E

CITY

The evident need to eliminate obsolete structures and rebuild our cities has led to another confusion of ideas, namely, that the way to do it is by largescale housing projects. Only by this technique, it is argued, can whole areas be replanned, an antiquated street system be revised, and the decentralization and decay of our cities be halted. There is no doubt an element of truth

PROBLEMS OF MASS S H E L T E R

191

in the contention. However, it must be pointed out that so far every effort along these lines has resulted in a net increase of congestion and that there is grave danger of our falling prey either to the Scylla of paternalism or the Charybdis of feudal landlordism. It is these dangers, much more than the "socialistic" danger, that is the real menace to democracy in housing. The class ghetto, the frustration of individualism, the increasing removal of man from all relation to nature—these are real evils which, though not necessarily inherent in largescale housing, are currently prevalent. There has not been time yet for the inevitable political evils to show to any great extent, but they are beginning to appear; the next depression will bring them out in plain view. No doubt these, like many other present problems, are transitional, and eventually ways will be found to solve them. It is likely, however, that the solution will be along lines radically different from those still current in the mid-twentieth century if the three essential problems are to be solved. The "saving of our cities" is not one of them; they transcend that because they concern the saving of the nation. The first is: how to stem the biological deterioration of our urban population—its sterility, its manifest psychical disorders. The second is: how to achieve a democracy of the spirit as well as of the ballot box. The third is: how to devise an economy suitable for our purposes. If we can find answers to these basic requirements for urban survival, the appropriate physical forms will follow as inescapable derivatives. The attempt to "integrate" our present conception of mass housing with our present cities —or, vice versa, to try to rebuild our cities along the lines of the mass housing of today—is merely to sow the seed of the slums of the future. It is worth commenting, in closing, that we never hesitate to spend lavishly for things that are of importance to our culture. A hundred million dollars for fifty miles of parkway or superhighway is not voted down; it is a gift of the people to the people for their use. But it is significant that we refuse money for housing and that when we talk of housing it is for "the low-income group," "the middle class," and "the rich." We have not as yet reached the point where our concern is to provide housing for the people. This dereliction, above all, is reflected in the architecture of housing.

SUGGESTED ADDITIONAL READING FOR CHAPTER

5

Bauer, Catherine, Modern Housing (Boston, N e w York: Houghton Mifflin, 1934). Churchill, Henry, The

[ci945D-

City Is the People

( N e w York: Reynal & Hitchcock

IÇ2

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

Ford, James, Slums and Housing (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1936).

Gray, George H., Housing and Citizenship (New York: Reinhold, 1 9 4 6 ) . Howard, Sir Ebenezer, Garden Cities of To-morrow, edited with a preface by F. J. Osborn, with an introductory essay by Lewis Mumford, new ed. (London: Transatlantic Arts, 1 9 4 6 ) . Le Corbusier (Charles Édouard Jeanneret), La Ville radieuse (Boulogne sur Seine: Éditions de l'Architecture d'aujourd'hui [ 1 9 3 5 ] ) . Twentieth Century Fund, American Housing (New York: the Fund, 1 9 4 4 ) . United States Federal Public Housing Authority, Public Housing Design . . . ([Washington:] National Housing Agency, FPHA, 1 9 4 6 ) . Wright, Frank Lloyd, When Democracy Builds (Chicago: University of Chicago Press [ C 1 9 4 5 ] ) . Wright, Henry, Rehousing Urban America (New York: Columbia University Press, 1 9 3 5 ) .

6 Layout of Residential Communities By J. M A R S H A L L

MILLER

T

H E P R O V I S I O N of good housing means far more than the provision of shelter. Desirable housing in good neighborhoods is always in demand; but the demand for shelter, one of man's three primary needs, is greatly accentuated in periods of inflation and housing shortages. Housing shortages, even housing crises, are problems not merely of the present or of the recent past; so long as there is an increasing population, so long as there is obsolescence of physical structure, and so long as there is progress in man's standard of living there will be a need for more and adequate shelter.

As towns and cities grow, it is normal and logical for the physical volume of the community to increase. This growth is absorbed partially by vertical construction, but chiefly by peripheral expansion; thus the cycles of community development are directly reflected and recorded in an ever widening peripheral growth. Such expansion follows one or both of two patterns: first, the development of new lands along the fringe of the central or principal community; and, second, the expansion of suburban communities within commuting range of the central city. In either pattern the new development is primarily residential. Most of the construction occurs during periods of housing shortages, for then the lively demand for dwellings leads immediately to more building. Unfortunately the combination of shortage and demand frequently results in hurried and poorly planned subdivisions, rapid construction, shelter at minimum standards, and the developer's attempt to reap the maximum profit (Fig. 124). Out of this re-occurring cyclical demand and rapid growth have come small lots, overcrowding, and a generally inferior type of residential development. T w o exceptions to this usual course of events are: subdivision or construction taking place during the last of a period of abnormal development when supply exceeds demand; and development between the activity cycles

'94

BUILDINGS F O R RESIDENCE FIGURE CHAOS

I24. IN

DEVELOPMENT, QUEENS, NEW YORK Courtesy Daily News

when the demand is low, competition is keener, material and labor are available, and controls are more easily administered. RESIDENTIAL

EXPANSION

Standard Subdivision Type. Residential development in the United States has generally followed the two patterns outlined above. Usually the layout and the development of residential areas have involved relatively large tracts. In such cases the business of subdivision or land development with "for sale" or "for rent" dwelling units was logically a wholesale operation. Even the subdividing of the older and larger estates was a job for the professional developer.

LAYOUT OF RESIDENTIAL COMMUNITIES

FIGURE 1 2 5 . P L A N N I N G VERSUS CHAOS. FRESH MEADOWS HOUSING DEVELOPMENT AND ITS SURROUNDINGS, QUEENS, N E W

YORK

Voorhees, Walker, Foley & Smith, architects Photograph Fairchild Aerial Surveys

The land and building boom of the 1920's saw the speculative wholesale development of large-, small-, and medium-sized lots reach its height. The practice of land subdivision, especially on the outskirts of our larger cities, became so rampant that among the lots laid out—many with improvements —hundreds of thousands still have little hope for development. Three tragic consequences followed this premature subdivision: much good agricultural land was withdrawn from productive use; numerous communities that had shouldered the financial burdens of improvement went bankrupt, or nearly so; and partially developed subdivisions lost their appeal to new home builders, with the result that they often became tax-delinquent and blighted areas. An additional curse was the lack of planning of logical or intelligent arrangements—a curse evident in the small, narrow lots, the characterless gridiron street patterns, and the failure to relate the development to the community. Local, county, and state governments alike must share the guilt for condoning such practices and failing to provide adequate controls. Neiv

Types.

In contrast to the standard subdivision, numerous develop-

,96

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

merits throughout the country promoted by persons of vision and social consciousness have proved that good design—the attempt to create a sense of "neighborhood" as well as the provision of shelter—is good business (Fig. 125). Radburn in New Jersey, the Country Club District in Kansas Gty, River Oaks in Houston, and Westwood Hills and Baldwin Hills Village in Los Angeles show the value of good planning. These projects, coupled with such early developments as Yorkship Village in New Jersey and Kingsport in Tennessee and later the "greenbelt" communities, have established new and higher standards for land subdivision and residential community planning. Following in part Ebenezer Howard's philosophy of the "garden city," Henry Wright and Clarence Stein combined their efforts, first at Sunnyside on Long Island and later at Radburn, New Jersey, to create a new kind of residential development. They were severely restricted at Sunnyside by the existing street plan, which it was necessary to preserve. Radburn's development in the open country, however, produced an example of residential grouping and neighborhood layout which has greatly influenced subsequent residential development and community design. The principal contributions of the Radburn plan were the superblock, with a center-of-the-block park and no through vehicular traffic; the use of cul-de-sac or narrow dead-end streets; the separation of pedestrian and vehicular traffic, with separate pedestrian ways either underpassing or overpassing the principal traffic arteries; and the formation of an owner-tenant organization with compulsory membership (here called the Radburn Association) for community maintenance and service. (JOVERNMENT PLANNING

PROGRAMS

During the 1930's two Federally sponsored programs aided in furthering the town planning of residential areas. The three greenbelt communities (Greenbelt in Maryland, Greenhills in Ohio, and Greendale in Wisconsin) exemplified the practical features found in the English greenbelt towns and in the Radburn-type community. The standards and principles formulated by the Federal Housing Administration served as a new guide in both housing and subdivision practices. Greenbelt Towns. The greenbelt communities were authorized under the Emergency Relief Appropriations Act of 1935, and their development was entrusted to the then Resettlement Administration with the purpose of providing: (1) constructive work for unemployed men and capital in the build-

L A Y O U T OF RESIDENTIAL COMMUNITIES

FIGURE 1 2 6 . PLANNING IN THE COUNTRY. GREENBELT, MARYLAND Ellington & Wadsworth, architects; Hale Walker, town planner Courtesy School of Architecture, Columbia University

ing industry and related fields; (2) housing accommodations for moderateincome families to relieve shortages in selected metropolitan areas; (3) demonstrations in modern town planning and the social and economic benefits to be derived therefrom; and (4) experimental areas for the development of integrated urban-rural relationships (Fig. 126). These new communities incorporated such planning features as large superblocks, off-street group parking, separation of vehicular and pedestrian traffic, low building coverage, adequate community shopping centers, recreation and community facilities, and a green belt surrounding the entire community. As of the late 1930*5, the cost in dollars of these communities was comparatively high because considerable experimentation was involved, many unskilled persons were put to work, and the job was well done. Also the "desirable" community facilities were included. But even though the cost was relatively high the social gains were correspondingly great. Pre-eminently, however, these three communities set the pace for the higher level of suburban development which has since been adopted elsewhere; thev still inspire better

I98

BUILDINGS FOR R E S I D E N C E FIGURE

127.

PLANNING IN EUROPE. TWO V I E W S OF

THE

HOUSING IN FRANKFURT MAIN:

AM

"ZIGZAG

HOUSES"

AND

BORNHEIMER

HANG

Ernst M a y , chief architect Courtesy A v e r y Library

community planning and are examples for new developments both in the United States and abroad. (See Fig. 127.) FHA Principles and Standards. The other government program inaugurated during this period was the Federal Housing Administration authorized under the National Housing Act of 1934. Interested in assuring quality in improved real estate offered as security under its insured mortgage system, the FHA established standards covering the physical characteristics of property, with two purposes in view: the first, as set forth in the preamble to the National Housing Act, aimed "to encourage improvement in housing standards and conditions"; the second appeared in Section 203 of the Act and makes it mandatory upon the Housing Administration to make sure that the "project with respect to which the mortgage is executed is economically sound." To accomplish these purposes, the FHA was fully aware that the soundness

LAYOUT OF RESIDENTIAL COMMUNITIES FIGURE

»99

128.

CONVENTIONAL

AND

WELL-PLANNED ARRANGEMENTS OF T H E

SAME

SITE

From Federal Housing Administration, Planning Profitable Neighborhoods

ORIGINAL P L A N

SUGGESTED REVISEC P L A N

of the neighborhood was of prime importance to every parcel of land and every residence within the area. The appraisals of the F H A were therefore based upon three principles: 1 ( 1 ) that the development of urban land should create neighborhoods of definite character; (2) that such neighborhoods must be in proper relationship to both the manner and the extent of the future expansion of the community as a whole; and (3) that such neighborhoods should be designed to meet the demand for a definite type of housing accommodation within the community (Fig. 128). The F H A may justly be criticized for sometimes encouraging home ownership when such ownership saddled unreasonable financial burdens on families of limited income. Many weaknesses were likewise evident in the regional and local administrations and their interpretation of both purposes and principles. In spite of these drawbacks, however, a greater impetus, both direct and indirect, was given to better planned and more economically sound residential developments than had ever before been achieved in so short a period. 1

FHA, Subdivision Standards, Circular No. j, revised Sept. i, 1939, p. 1.

2 OO

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

FIGURE 1 2 9 . PLAN OF RADBURN, NEW J E R S E Y

Clarence Stein and Henry Wright, architects From Town Planning Review

DEFENSE AND WAR HOUSING

The period just before the United States entered the Second World War saw the development here of defense housing, and during the war years most housing built to shelter war workers in new industrial areas was known as war housing. With few exceptions, both defense and war housing projects were built as rental developments for groups ranging from a few dozen to several thousand families. Although no new basic concepts of community or neighborhood planning evolved, in many instances the earlier Radburn and Greenbelt concepts were refined and varied. Even though many of these developments were planned almost overnight and the use of many materials was almost always strictly curtailed, many layouts were livable and incorporated principles of site planning which have been recognized as desirable. In most cases the gridiron street plan was abandoned and various curvilinear patterns were used—a treatment which has had a profound influence on subdivision and group-housing design. Here the designs incorporated block parks, pedes-

L A Y O U T OF RESIDENTIAL COMMUNITIES trian ways through green areas, playgrounds and other recreational facilities, off-street parking areas, and the like. P O S T - W A R HOUSING

TRENDS

With the end of the Second World War a real and extensive demand began for all types of structures, particularly for housing. Coupled with this demand was an unparalleled shortage of dwellings—an accumulation of many years past. T o add to the difficulty, materials were scarce, labor was high, and production was erratic. These combined forces resulted in the sacrifice of many of the desirable amenities of family and group living. Until there is substantial relief from this shortage these trends will continue. GARDEN-TYPE

APARTMENTS

Increasing consideration has been given in the United States to the development of garden-type apartments. Although this type of housing is variously defined, it is usually recognized as group housing with a relatively low density, low building coverage, and an abundance of open space.2 Such housing has been especially adaptable to the outlying and suburban districts of our metropolitan areas. Some suburban communities have amended their zoning ordinances to permit this type of multi-family use even in what were previously single-family residential zones. The Federal Housing Administration is encouraging such group housing, but in its review of site and unit plans it has tended to overstandardize and to allow the site planner and architect little flexibility either in site layout or in building design. Though certain F H A principles are admirable, it is unfortunate that a greater degree of flexibility does not exist in the F H A review program. F H A approval is required to secure mortgage insurance, and as a consequence tremendous support is given to F H A recommendations. So long as the current housing shortage obtains, comparatively little real development will be seen in central cities, particularly where demolition of any residential unit is necessary to provide sites for new construction. Most residential buildings will doubtless be erected on open land in peripheral and suburban areas. Thus it appears that the garden type of suburban rental apartment will be the most desirable for some years to come (Figs. 130, 1 3 1 ) . Although it does not provide the convenience to downtown employment or to the commercial and cultural areas at the heart of the city and does not include - See also Chap. 2, " T h e Apartment House." in this volume.

202

B U I L D I N G S FOR R E S I D E N C E

the freedom of yard area associated with single-family houses on individual lots, it does offer relief from congested, high-density city apartments. By low coverage and management maintenance of extensive green areas, it offers the possibility of attractive surroundings for healthful living and also provides opportunity for convenient outdoor play and relaxation areas. In addition, under proper management, it might easily furnish most of the amenities ordinarily associated with single-family development—and without corresponding financial obligation. The suburban garden-type apartment (built on land more reasonable in price) can provide lower-rental dwelling units. For convenience or other reasons, many families still prefer city living in higherdensity developments, but suburban garden-type apartments will increasingly provide an opportunity for choice. GOALS OF SITE PLANNING

Though the developed standards for the most part apply to specific subdivisions or housing developments, it is important to keep in mind the larger perspective of the total concept. As Tracy B. Augur has aptly and simply written, "The minimum in site planning for new housing . . . is a wholesome urban environment." 3 An investigation of standards and factors related to the site reveals that two group» of needs must be considered. First, an examination of the needs of the family and the individuals constituting the family should aid in determining the scale and arrangement of dwelling units; it should also take into account the problems of privacy, circulation of air, sunlight, relationship of buildings, and so on. Second, the needs of the families as a group, as a neighborhood, or as a community should serve as criteria for social and community life, community services, and active and passive group activities. Both groups of needs must be given full consideration in the organization and design of any residential group. Site Selection. It is not the purpose of this chapter to enlarge upon the several factors involved in site selection. It should be noted, however, that much study has been given to this phase of the subject and that at least as much material has been published on site selection as on site planning. The interrelation and interdependence of these two problems cannot be comprehensively studied and solved without an acute awareness of the implications of 3 Tracy B. Augur, Some Minimum Standards in Site Planning for Low Cost Housing (Chicago: American Society of Planning Officials, 1935), p. 2.

L A Y O U T OF R E S I D E N T I A L COMMUNITIES

203

both. For a thorough account of the basic factors involved in site selection, reference should be made to an extended check list developed by the Citizen's Housing Council of New York * and to a bulletin on Site Selection 5 by the United States Housing Authority which has summarized standards that apply to this phase of the problem. Relation to Community and Neighborhood. The plan of the new development must fit into the pattern of the community. The locations of existing or proposed major streets, park and recreational areas, schools, lines of transportation, and public utilities must be determined. Traffic and pedestrian arteries must be carefully related to the proposed community facilities. If the area under consideration is extensive, it may be found necessary to incorporate sites for schools, churches, playgrounds, and parks. A concern of every family in a residential development is the accessibility of a local shopping center; moreover an adequate and well-planned commercial group is a definite asset to the neighborhood. Major items for consideration in the planning of such a center include location, auto and pedestrian accessibility, and parking and service areas. The smooth functioning of the community center will depend on the location and design of special or non-residential facilities. When stores, churches, schools, play areas, and the like overbuild or overcrowd their sites or fail to provide for the proper handling of their functions, they can become nuisances. Adequate offstreet parking space, wide front and side yards, protective walls, and planted areas may easily reduce the undesirable features of non-residential facilities, which, if properly located and designed to serve the neighborhood, are assets rather than liabilities. Site Patterns. Two planning patterns are possible in the development of residential groups. That for a small site will often be governed by the existing pattern in the areas immediately surrounding it. One need not necessarily conform in every detail to the near-by development; indeed, the good site planner may build many new values into any residential area (Fig. 130). The laying out of a small site, however, offers a real challenge to the planner, for troublesome handicaps are likely to be encountered here. When the site is relatively large, a pattern quite independent of the surrounding developments is possible. In this case the planner must give critical * Citizen's Housing Council, Basic Human Needs and Facilities Affecting the Selection of Sites for Housing Projects (New York: the Council, mimeographed, n.d.). 5 United States Housing Authority, Site Selection, Bulletin No. 18. "Policy and Procedure" (Washington: U.S.H.A.. Feb. i j , 1939). pp. n - 1 9 .

2o 4 JJIL

BUILDINGS FOR R E S I D E N C E "

-

RODEO

I'J

EOAD



II L

FIGURE I 3 0 . A SO-CALLED GARDEN A P A R T M E N T DEVELOPMENT. BALDWIN HILLS VILLAGE, LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA. PLAN Reginald D. Johnson and Wilson, Merrill & Alexander, associated architects; Clarence Stein, consultant

attention not only to the planning design as it relates specifically to the size and disposition of the residential buildings (without their related servicing elements) but also to the possible provision of those community facilities or amenities which should form a part of a well-designed neighborhood—neighborhood schools, shopping facilities, park and play areas, and so forth. Preservation of Natural Assets. Mature trees and tree groups, streams, or other topographical features may, through their preservation, become assets to a development. A careful survey should be made and wherever possible such features should be incorporated into the site plan. One of the most serious criticisms of our new housing developments (public housing in particular) is the lack of landscaping. Although it is difficult to determine suitable locations for the buildings merely by adjusting them to existing tree groups or other natural features, nevertheless it is definitely unsound to say that land must be entirely cleared to permit proper disposition of the buildings. Site Organization and Planning. "Three major elements go into the making up of a housing project . . . land, building, people. The development of the land and the design of the buildings are directed to one end only—to serve as a satisfactory frame for the lives of the people." " The site plan is of necessity influenced by social, economic, and legal factors which are brought to bear 6

Ibid., p. 17.

LAYOUT OF RESIDENTIAL COMMUNITIES

FIGURE

131. A VIEW

IN BALDWIN HILLS VILLAGE

Reginald D . Johnson and Wilson, Merrill & Alexander, associated architects; Clarence Stein, consultant Photograph Kramer, courtesy School of Architecture, Columbia University

on the design of new developments. Climate, site topography, tradition, local housing customs, social institutions, available material and labor, land costs, the income and composition of the families to be housed, local housing standards, planning standards, and the requirements of lending or insuring institutions are also governing factors which must be constantly considered in the development of the site. Within the possibilities or limitations of the above, there must be an attempt to provide the most suitable and satisfactory living environment possible. DWELLING-UNIT

DESIGN

In the planning stage it is unnecessary to set specific design patterns for dwelling units, but certain basic principles must be established, at least in diagrammatic form, for determining their relation to means of approach;

206

FIGURE

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

1 3 2 . LIVABILITY IN OUTDOOR AREAS

ABOVE: Playground, Belmawr Housing, near Camden, N e w Jersey; Mayer & Whittlesey, architects; photograph A. Chelouche. BELOW: Adult Sitting Area in Radburn, N e w Jersey; photograph Gretchen Van Tassel.

their articulation with open areas; the location of service areas, living areas, and sleeping areas; and privacy for the occupants. Attempts have been made to separate vehicular and pedestrian approaches

L A Y O U T OF RESIDENTIAL COMMUNITIES

207

to the dwelling units, but it has been found most satisfactory to have all approaches proceed from one direction. It simplifies the plan, simplifies circulation, insures privacy in living areas, and permits a more flexible development of the non-approach side of the building. It is generally conceded that entries, kitchens, utility rooms, garages and car ports, and other service elements must be as convenient to the approach as is reasonably possible. A t the same time, these elements do not ordinarily involve the more private areas for family living and may logically be located on the approach side of the dwelling unit. It is likewise generally conceded that indoor and outdoor living areas should maintain a high degree of privacy. Although they should be accessible to other areas in the dwelling they should be designed to insure privacy and quiet at all times. Sleeping areas must provide privacy, quiet, and adequate ventilation. Accessibility to open areas—public, private, or both—add to the livability. Communal open areas should be so located as to be easily accessible to the families they serve, without interfering with the privacy and quiet necessary for each family unit. Such areas need not be large, and they can be made to serve a multitude of purposes. T h e y may be parks in the center of superblocks to provide both landscape and play areas, or they may be green spaces along streams or marginal property difficult of development; a definite attempt, however, should be made to provide areas which will lend themselves to more than one recreational use. In developments where the building coverage is 20 per cent or less, open areas of this type can be easily incorporated into the site plan; when the coverage is greater there is even more reason to have adequate communal open areas reserved. PRIVATE OPEN

AREAS

A prime consideration in low-density, low-coverage residential groups is the location and usability of private open areas for service yards, for car ports or garage approaches, for patios or outdoor living spaces, and perhaps for laundry drying. Suitable areas of this kind are important not only from the standpoint of their full utilization by the family but also from the standpoint of appearance. It is generally conceded that any private open areas available to the family should be so placed as to insure the maximum degree of privacy and enjoyment. Such an arrangement may entail a digression from many of the regulations and traditions now evident in all types of zoning and

2O8

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

subdivision regulations and in the traditional pseudo standards of value. A large front yard is of little value other than to provide a setting (if properly landscaped) for the structure; it should be minimized but still give adequate service and approach, and the remaining private open area should be reserved for services and open living space for the exclusive use of the family. HEATING

If the density is fairly high (twenty-five families per net acre), one central heating plant has generally been found efficient, particularly in large-scale housing where the owner anticipates continuing his ownership and maintenance. On the other hand, when the density and coverage are relatively low, decentralized heating units have proved to be more satisfactory and economical. Such units, ordinarily automatic, can be installed in the basement of one of the structures; each of them will serve from thirty to fifty families. They require less specialized supervision, no special structure, and no high chimney, and they also permit the use of smaller heating mains than does a central plant. GROUPING OF BUILDINGS

The disposition of the buildings, particularly in low-density projects, is governed by several considerations: topography, relation to street pattern, relation to adjoining structures, and orientation to the sun. The more severe the demands of the topography, the more its features govern. For the sake of economy, structures as well as streets must lie approximately parallel to the contours. Heavy cuts and fills not only are costly but often require the reshaping of considerable surrounding land, and they involve the removal and replacing of quantities of top soil, the destruction of trees, and the creation of conditions that encourage erosion. The topography also governs the street pattern. Proper surface drainage and the installation of sanitary sewers in rights of ways must be assured. Though utility and sewer connections to the main lines restrict the placement of buildings, they nevertheless must be maintained. Building-to-building relationships are vital. Although buildings should be relatively close together to minimize the cost of utilities, they should be sufficiently far apart to insure privacy and open areas. Similarly, the structures should be so spaced as to secure the maximum of light, air, view, and privacy in every apartment.

LAYOUT OF RESIDENTIAL COMMUNITIES FIGURE

I33.

SHOPPING

CENTER,

LINDA VISTA, CALIFORNIA

Earl F. Giberson and Whitney R. Smith, architects Photograph Maynard Parker, courtesy Museum of Modern Art, New York

Orientation, the fourth general criterion in the disposition of buildings, is still a debatable question. Many opinions and theories have been expressed, but no comprehensive scientific study has resulted in conclusive standards. The basic problem of orientation is involved and many-sided; it includes orientation to sunlight, to wind direction, to topography, to views, to open areas, and so on. Orientation to topography and views has already been discussed. In addition, buildings should be so placed as to take full advantage of desirable breezes and at the same time to shut out undesirable wind. Orientation to sunlight is a harder problem. Set standards are difficult to apply because what is satisfactory in one latitude or in one set of circumstances may be quite unsatisfactory in another. Though the kitchen is essentially a workroom and should have an abundance of constant light, which results most successfully from a northern exposure, some prefer a sunlit kitchen. Most agree that living areas should have considerable sunlight, but many do not like a southern exposure and do not wish the sun to shine directly into the living room. Whereas some choose a bedroom with morning sun, just as many prefer some other location where late sleeping is assured. N o scientific study has been made to determine the value of certain amounts of sunlight to the specific functions of family living; this is one field in which much additional research is desirable. Adequate and controlled light and air should be provided, of course, but on the subject of orientation there is still much speculation and difference of opinion.

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

2 IO

FIGURE

134.

RECREATION

CENTER,

BALDWIN

HILLS VILLAGE,

LOS

ANGELES,

CALIFORNIA Reginald D. Johnson and Wilson, Merrill & Alexander, associated architects; Clarence Stein, consultant Photograph Dick Whittington, courtesy School of Architecture, Columbia University

COMMUNAL

FACILITIES

In both public and private housing, at least a minimum of communal facilities (other than neighborhood shops) is considered desirable and, indeed, necessary. These may be classified as: ( 1 ) recreational, both indoor and outdoor; (2) cultural and social; and (3) service. Some are essential to all types of residential groups, whether public or private, single-family or multi-family. (See Fig. 133.) The use of the facilities in the first two categories depends to a great extent on the program of activities carried on in them. A number of successful recreational and social programs have been in operation for many years in certain housing developments, where they have proved invaluable to the families of the neighborhood. T w o outstanding examples are found at Hillside Homes in New York City, a 100 per cent rental project, and at Radburn, N e w Jersey, which provides for both rental and home ownership. The Radburn Association has conducted such a program for almost twenty years.

L A Y O U T OF R E S I D E N T I A L COMMUNITIES

in

Of the communal facilities mentioned, the most valuable would be those for group recreation. It is imperative that indoor and outdoor facilities for play be provided for children between the ages of eight and sixteen and that they should be designed fundamentally for group or team action, since communal play is essential to sound physical, mental, and social development. Recreational facilities, both indoor and outdoor, for children below eight years of age and for adults over sixteen are highly desirable though not imperative (Fig. 134). These can either be run on a commercial basis as a concession or be financed by the project itself through the charging of facility rental fees. Here the question of support is one of operation policy, but in any case the provision of facilities is essential. In residential developments where the density is high and the appearance of the outdoor areas is a matter of community pride, such additional communal facilities as laundries, drying areas, and the like must be given special study; modern coin washers and driers have proved to be one sound solution. Space does not permit a discussion of the standards which might apply to the various types of facilities, but for some facilities comprehensive research has resulted in specific recommendations. Most notable are those made in the field of recreation by the National Recreation Association.7 Information on unit area requirements and minimum facility sizes may also be found in a number of available guides, such as Time-Saver Standards* In planning facilities for communal use, convenience must be the basic standard. Unless they are located conveniently for the families they are designed to serve, they are not likely to be used as they should be. CIRCULATION

Vehicular. The automobile is a convenient means of transportation but a definite problem to the planner. The various uses of the automobile should be clearly defined, and proper provision must be made for each use. Major approach roads must be designed as such, and local and service roads must be planned in accordance with their functions. A study of intersections must be made from the standpoint of the safety of the driver as well as that of the pedestrian. In the absence of the possibility of a complete non-stop intersection with adequate acceleration lanes, the safest grade intersection is one in which the streets meet at approximately right angles. 7 National Recreation Association, Play Space in New Association, 1939). * F. W . Dodge Corp., New York [01946!.

Neighborhoods

(New York: the

212

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE FIGURE

I 35.

ATTRACTIVE PEDESTRIAN CIRCULATIONS ABOVE: Greenbelt, Maryland; Ellington & Wadsworth, architects; Hale Walker, town planner. BELOW: Radburn, New Jersey; Clarence Stein and Henry W r i g h t , architects. Photograph Gretchen Van Tassel. Courtesy School of Architecture, Columbia University.

Garaging becomes an increasingly difficult problem in multi-family housing. Several philosophies have been propounded concerning individual versus group garaging and parking. This is largely a financial or cost problem. Garage or parking areas should be located as conveniently to the dwelling units as possible, provided such arrangements can be afforded. If the distance from dwelling unit to car is unreasonable, frequently the driver will park his car at the nearest entrance to the dwelling. In the East, the practice of group parking and the lack of garaging are noticeable. In the West, practice dictates that car storage be attached to the house and a closed garage is demanded. Pedestrian. The more densely settled the area, the greater the need for adequate pedestrian ways. In all situations the kevnote is safety and con-

LAYOUT OF RESIDENTIAL COMMUNITIES

FIGURE

136.

A PLEASANT

PLACE TO LIVE. BALDWIN HILLS

VILLAGE,

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA Reginald D. Johnson and Wilson, Merrill & Alexander, associated architects; Clarence Stein, consultant Photograph Margaret Lowe

venience; passage on foot from house to house or from any house to all the necessary facilities should be safe, fairly direct, and pleasant (Fig. 1 3 5 ) . One school of thought affirms that pedestrian ways should be entirely separated from vehicular ways and that crossing at grade level should be eliminated wherever possible; this is illustrated in the development of Radburn, N e w Jersey. Another school of thought affirms that pedestrian ways should be adjacent and parallel to vehicular ways—a common practice in most subdivisions and residential groups. In either case, a thorough study of crossings should be made. MAINTENANCE

AND C O M M U N I T Y - S E R V I C E

ORGANIZATIONS

T h e value of an association to maintain community properties and facilities and to render general community service has been well established by experience throughout the country. T h e Radburn Association pioneered in this field, but among other organizations which have been outstandingly successful are the Country Club District of Kansas City, St. Francis Wood in San Francisco, and Forest Hills Gardens, Long Island, N e w York. Under the method generally accepted for instituting a community organization the development company, as the owner, sets up an association either as a part of the covenants or under the corporation articles. Several company

214

BUILDINGS FOR

RESIDENCE

FIGURE 1 3 7 . COMMUNITY AND SHOPPING CENTER, GREENDALE, WISCONSIN Walter G. Thomas and Harry J. Bentley, architects; Jacob Crane and Elbert Peets, town planners Courtesy School of Architecture, Columbia University

officials or persons selected by the company serve as temporary directors until their successors are elected, and succeeding directors are usually chosen by the resident owners. T h e purpose and duties of such an organization include maintenance of streets, parks, and other open spaces; refuse collection, snow removal, and emergency fire and police protection; approval of architectural and site plans; enforcements of private covenants; acquisition or disposal of property in the interests of the association; maintenance and operation of communal facilities; and determination and collection of annual charges or assessments necessary for the operation of the association. AESTHETIC

CONSIDERATIONS

Though the elements of a residential group which make the whole both attractive and livable are hard to define, they are nevertheless most important. It might be said that the livability of the whole is the sum of the livability of each unit. Conversely, the livability of each unit is dependent in part on the livability of the group. T h e relationship of each building to other buildings and to the surrounding open areas is vital. Among the general aesthetic objectives which should be met are a definite sense of orderly and significant placement of structures; a feeling of nature close at hand, or of the easy accessibility of semi-natural open areas; a real sense that the structures fit the ground and

L A Y O U T OF RESIDENTIAL COMMUNITIES

215

seem to be indigenous or to "belong"; and a sense of domestic scale. Only against human scale can the structure or group be successfully measured. OUTSTANDING RESIDENTIAL GROUPS

Radburn, New Jersey. Inasmuch as the influence of several elements in the Radburn scheme is noticeable in many subsequent developments, it is appropriate first to present a brief analysis of the four major features or objectives of the Radburn plan: (1) the superblock with center-of-the-block parks; (2) the separation of vehicular and pedestrian traffic; (3) the extensive use of cul-de-sacs; and (4) the inauguration of the Radburn Association. Radburn's success is exemplified by the fact that after almost twenty years about 50 per cent of the original residents still reside in the community. Moreover, because of its well-developed recreational program, accompanied by adequate facilities, relatively few seem to feel the need of going elsewhere during the summer months for vacation periods. If the Radburn plan as originally designed had been fully carried out, the complete scheme would have provided for many more amenities than now exist. Much of the peripheral land, unfortunately, had to be sold to speculative builders without desirable restrictions. Although Radburn provides a neighborhood shopping center, the population has never warranted more than one store of each type; as a result residents have complained that store prices have been monopolistic, and many have been forced to shop elsewhere. Although the cul-de-sac development at Radburn has been found satisfactory in the main, the single-family houses bordering them in most instances have been too closely spaced; wider cul-de-sac lots would have been better. T h e success of alternating cul-de-sacs and pedestrian ways around superblocks is questionable, here as elsewhere. Of course pedestrian paths should be separated from vehicular ways, but the mere alternation of cul-desacs and pedestrian ways will always result in a minimum of privacy on the garden or living side of the house. Most of the facilities at Radburn have been used with great success. Park walks, underpasses, pools, the little theater, and the indoor recreational areas have all proved satisfactory to both management and residents. T h e success of the plan has been dependent in large part on the Radburn Association and was made possible by the fact that the organization was "built in" at the inception of the development. In The Community Builders' Handbook prepared by the Community Build-

2.6

FIGURE

BUILDINGS FOR

RESIDENCE

1 3 8 . PARK FOREST, ILLINOIS. G E N E R A L P L A N

Loebl, Schlossman 8c Bennett, architects; Elbert Peets, town planner A : Multiple housing area. B: Future detached housing area. C: Industrial area. 1: Shopping center. 2: Parking. 3: High School. 4: Grade schools. 5: Lagoon. A planned town, completely new. Industrial areas are reserved to the north along the railroad. T h e chief shopping and community center is placed in the heart of the town; the residences are arranged in neighborhoods, each with its elementary school. Every effort has been made to preserve the natural amenities of the site. Courtesy American Community Builders

ers' Council of the Urban Land Institute,® the Radburn type of development is frowned upon. In fairness it should be said that this type of plan can be successful only if the management and maintenance organization is supported by and has the full co-operation of all the families in the community. Baldwin Hills Village, Los Angeles, California. T h e superblock concept as evidenced in Radburn and many subsequent communities was developed to a high degree in Baldwin Hills Village, where nearly seven hundred families are housed in one superblock. There is no cross vehicular traffic. It main9 Community Builders' Council, The Conmtunity Builders' Handbook (Washington: Urban Land Institute, 1947), p. 49.

LAYOUT OF RESIDENTIAL COMMUNITIES

FIGURE

1 3 9 . PARK

FOREST, ILLINOIS. AIR VIEW AND RESIDENTIAL

COURTS

Loebl, Schlossman & Bennett, architects; Elbert Peets, town planner TOP: Air view of the completed portion. Photograph Harry Williams, aerial photographer. MIDDLE: Perspective of a pedestrian residential court. Photograph Hcdrich-Blessing. BOTTOM: View of one of the completed courts, showing the trees that have been preserved. Courtesy American Community Builders

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

2 18

tains an abundance of open area and has a density of about seven families per acre. Architecturally Baldwin Hills is most successful. The buildings are simply designed, with window areas, eave overhangs, balconies, and outdoor spaces befitting the climate and the locality. Community recreational facilities have been provided and are operated to the advantage of all. The covered parking areas have not proved entirely satisfactory; children attracted by the paved surfaces in and about garages have found these ideal for play, and, because of the consequent damage to cars, most residents have had to enclose their garages. Park Forest, Illinois. The soundness of many of the basic planning ideas outlined above is in part substantiated by the new development underwritten by several large life-insurance organizations and now under construction some miles south of Chicago (Figs. 138, 139). Here is the first "planned" and fairly complete post-war community in the United States. It covers 2,500 acres and provides for industry, shopping, several types of residences, schools, and all the functions and facilities of a self-contained community. Large areas of rolling green countryside are being reserved as greenbelts. The density will be low, the safety and livability high. THE

FUTURE

Most housing today is developed through large-scale operation—a trend which will no doubt continue for some years to come—and is characterized by large-scale financing and insurance policies. Préfabrication or partial préfabrication will stimulate this mass production. In the planning and development of new residential areas the site planner, engineer, architect, and builder will all be called upon to co-operate; each will find his responsibilities great and the challenge to his abilities commensurate with the undertaking. SUGGESTED ADDITIONAL READING FOR CHAPTER A d a m s , T h o m a s , Design of Residential

6

Areas, V o l . V I of " H a r v a r d C i t y Planning

Studies" ( C a m b r i d g e , Mass.: H a r v a r d University Press, 1 9 3 4 ) . A m e r i c a n Public Health Association, Committee on the H y g i e n e of Planning

the Neighborhood;

Standards

for Healthful

Housing

Housing,

( C h i c a g o : Public

Administration Service, 1 9 4 8 ) . Churchill, H e n r y , and Roslyn Ittleson, Neighborhood Y o r k : National Committee on Housing,

1944).

Design

and Control

(New

LAYOUT OF RESIDENTIAL COMMUNITIES

219

Community Builders' Council, The Community Builders' Handbook (Washington: Urban Land Institute, 1947). Federal Housing Administration, Low-Rental Housing for Private Investment (Washington: FHA, 1940). Planning Profitable Neighborhoods, Tech. Bui. 7 (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1938). Subdivision Standards, Cir. 5 (Washington: FHA, 1939). Successful Subdivisions y Land Planning Bui. 1 (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1940). Halsey, Maxwell, Traffic Accidents and Congestion (New York: Wiley, 1941). Mayer, Albert, "Technique for Planning Complete Communities," Architectural Forum, Vol. 66 (1937), January, pp. 19-36; February, pp. 126-46. "What's the Matter with Our Site Plans," Pencil Points, Vol. 23 (1942), May, pp. 245-58. Merriam, Robert E., The Subdivision of Land (Chicago: American Society of Planning Officials, 1942). National Recreation Association, Play Space m New Neighborhoods (New York: the Association, 1939). National Resources Committee, Urban Planning and Land Policies (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1939). Wright, Henry, Rehousing Urban America (New York: Columbia University Press, 1935).

7 Rural Architecture and Farm Planning By J . R O B E R T

DODGE

T

H E F A R M H O U S E is a symbol of a stable society and has been so since earliest times. N o other type of housing reflects so fully the way of life of its builders. In comparison with town and city houses, though touched like them by changes in architectural style, its design on the whole has been conditioned to a greater degree by climate, availability of materials, and the occupation and prosperity of its occupants. A discussion of rural housing as it exists without some mention of the sources from which it sprang and the reasons for its many and varied forms is obviously impossible. Among the first farmhouses of the United States were the simple log huts erected by early settlers. From those humble beginnings the substantial, welldesigned farmhouses of the late colonial period evolved. In each of the colonies the homes reflected the background and architectural traditions of their builders, but in every case they were greatly modified by the climate, type of agriculture, and materials of the region.

In the New England and Middle Atlantic colonies, where for the most part the settlers sprang from the middle and peasant classes of the Old World, the family farm developed. The cold climate and the type of farming enterprise represented were reflected in the compact, simple, but adequate farmhouses of wood or stone found throughout the North Atlantic States (Fig. 140). Many settlers in the Southern colonies, on the other hand, were drawn from the English upper classes. Whereas the farmers of the North derived their income from livestock and produce sold chiefly in the neighboring towns and cities, those of the South produced more specialized crops—such as tobacco and rice, and later cotton—which were shipped to England. This type of agriculture gave rise to the plantation, usually of large acreage and farmed

RURAL ARCHITECTURE AND FARM PLANNING

221

- «"»ifljfayjf FIGURE 1 4 0 . EARLY NEW ENGLAND FARMHOUSE CONNECTED TO OTHER FARM BUILDINGS, KNOX COUNTY, MAINE. EXTERIOR Photograph Rothstein, courtesy United States Department of Agriculture

by numerous slaves. T h e social and economic system of the region, combined with the mild climate, created a new type of house, often of brick, large, open in plan, and dependent on a staff of servants for its efficient operation. In the arid and semi-arid expanses of the Southwest, the feudal society of the Spanish ranchers produced rambling adobe houses, with the many dependencies obviously required for self-contained units situated far from an important center. With the opening of the interior, farmers moved westward to take up new lands. Here again the first homes were often crude log cabins. Later, houses were built that reflected the traditions of the colonies from which the pioneers had emigrated. From the southern Atlantic Coast to Louisiana and Arkansas the plantation with its great house became the typical farm scene. North of the Ohio River the family farm continued to flourish and the houses showed the influence of N e w England, Virginia, and Pennsylvania (Fig. 1 4 1 ) . As the pioneers pushed westward to the prairies the sod house appeared, which later, when sawmills came to the timbered areas of the Middle West, was replaced with structures of wood (Fig. 143). With the close of the Civil W a r a new era began in the South. T h e great plantation houses became less common and the slave quarters disappeared; housing of a different kind was required for the small farm owners, tenant farmers, and share croppers. One-crop farming still prevailed, however, and tobacco and particularly cotton were the chief sources of income. T h e houses that were built reflected the type of agriculture and the poor economic conditions of the times (Fig. 144).

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE FIGURE EARLY

141.

TWO

MIDWEST

FARMHOUSES

Caleb Chapel House, Parma, Michigan; BELOW: On the Battle Creek Road, near Marshall, Michigan. Photographs Talbot Hamlin. ABOVE:

Throughout this entire period the steady decline in the skill and good taste of local artisans became increasingly pronounced. Wood was almost the only building material used, and masons were seldom found except in isolated areas. The passing fads with which city houses were currently afflicted appeared also in the rural areas: the Gothic Revival, French mansard, and jigsaw manifestations of the Victorian era all left their marks. Heating, cooking, and lighting equipment, which was coming on the market, began to have its effect on the design of the rural house. In many northern houses built after 1850 there were no fireplaces, wood- or coal-burning stoves and ranges taking their place; in the South, however, the fireplace as a heating unit still persists, and even after 1875 it was used extensively for cooking as well. The tallow candles of pioneer days finally disappeared, superseded by improved kerosene lamps as sources of light. Although central heating systems came into general use in urban areas after the Civil War, very few found their way into the farmhouses of the period.

RURAL ARCHITECTURE AND FARM PLANNING

223

ROOF

STORAGF

• "

ROOE

I" 1

I

SECOND FLOOR PUAN FIRST FLOOR PLAN

FIGURE

I 4 2 . TYPICAL

N I N E T E E N T H- C E N T U R Y

MIDWEST FARMHOUSE ON T H E

PLAINS. P L A N

FIGURE 1 4 3 . T Y P I C A L NINETEENTHCENTURY

MIDWEST

FARMHOUSE ON T H E PLAINS. EXTERIOR Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture

FIGURE

144.

CHAUNCEY

HOUSE,

WHITEHALL, GEORGIA. EXTERIOR Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

224

Improved water supply and sewage disposal, which developed rapidly in the urban areas, did not reach the rural house to any extent until comparatively recent times. CHARACTERISTICS OF PRESENT-DAY RURAL HOUSING

Rural housing falls roughly into three categories: ( i ) farmhouses, that is, the houses of farm operators; (2) farm-labor houses; and ( 3 ) rural non-farm houses. Of these, the farmhouse is still the most significant. By twentieth-century standards rural houses are on the whole inadequate. More often than urban houses they are in disrepair, overcrowded, and lacking in modern conveniences. The accompanying table shows some of the significant characteristics of occupied rural houses in the United States, as reported in a sample survey made by the Bureau of the Census in April, 1947.

Rural Housing Characteristics in the United States, April, 1947* CI-ASSIFICATION OF A L L ORDINARY OCCUPIED DWF.L1.1NG U N I T S AS TO RURAL F A R M

RURAL N O N - F A R M

OWNER-

TENANT-

OWNER-

OCCUPIED

OCCUPIED

OCCUPIED

TENANTOCCUPIED

Characteristics

? er Cent

Per Cent

PerCent

PerCent

In need of major repairs With private bath and private flush toilet No running water in dwelling Without central heat Without electric lighting Without installed cooking facilities Housing 1.51 persons or more per room Total number

10.8

24.1

7

15.0 48-4 3 *-7 74.8 11.6 5-2

28.6 56.6 78.2 29.4

79-4 91.3 50.2

62.3 24.6 57.0 6.9

4-3

7-'

3-2

5-9 4,322,000

9.4

'7-3 2,^40,000

5-7 5,478,000

11.4 3,041,000

"Compiled from Current Population Reports, Housing, Series P-70, No. 1 (Washington: Bureau of the Census, Oct. 29, 1947).

Although in general the 1947 figures show an improvement over those reported in the 1940 census, compared with urban housing they still disclose a rather unfavorable situation. Whereas 83.5 per cent of the occupied urban housing units had all the designated modern facilities, such as lights, running water, bath, flush toilets, and installed cooking facilities, only 21.0 per cent of all farm dwellings and 56.4 per cent of all rural non-farm houses were so equipped.

R U R A L ARCHITECTURE A N D FARM PLANNING

225

Significant regional variations in the quality of the housing are also evident. In the Northeast, for example, only 10.0 per cent of the farmhouses and 8.6 per cent of the rural non-farm houses needed major repairs; moreover 42.4 per cent of the farmhouses and 70.5 per cent of the rural non-farm houses had all the designated facilities. The North Central States and the West vied for second place. The South had the most uniformly poor housing, except in regard to overcrowding. Here the West made the poorest showing; some 15.5 per cent of its farmhouses and 9.7 per cent of its rural non-farm houses had more than 1.5 persons per room. Twenty-five per cent of the southern farmhouses and 14.8 of the rural southern non-farm houses needed major repairs, and only 9.8 per cent of the farmhouses and 39.3 per cent of the rural non-farm houses had all the designated facilities. Census data on the characteristics of farm-labor houses are not available; it is highly probable, however, that they would compare unfavorably with the other types of rural houses. Factors contributing to these relatively low standards of housing include the fact that the rural house has rarely had access to community water-supply and sewage-disposal systems. In addition, farm income, to which the entire rural economy is tied, declined after 1920; it was not until 1939 that many rural dwellers were financially in a position to make improvements or to build new homes. T h e Second World War, with its restrictions on building and the ensuing shortage of materials and equipment, further delayed improvements. Another important factor has been the farmers' reluctance to put money into what many of them look on as unproductive property, with the result that farm machinery and the service buildings have received a greater share of the farm income than has the house. The fact that lack of ability to support satisfactory housing is not the sole cause of the low standard of farm housing is borne out by exploratory work aimed to determine the relation of the quality of the housing to the income-producing capacity of the farms on which the houses are situated. 1 On the basis of 1940 census data it is estimated that some 2,560,000 farm operators had sufficient income to justify an "acceptable house." Of this number only 1,500,000 lived in acceptable dwellings and 660,000 in repairable dwellings; 400,000 lived in houses beyond repair. 1 By John C. Ellickson, Bureau of Agricultural Economics, from unpublished census records. The data were contained in The Farmhousing Problem, prepared by a working group of the Interbureau Committee on Post-War Programs of the Department of Agriculture, and included as Exhibit B in a statement by Assistant Secretary of Agriculture Charles F. Brannan before the Senate Banking and Currency Committee. March 18. 1947.

226

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE FIGURE NEW

I45.

FARMHOUSE

SHOWING URBAN

INFLUENCES,

P R A I R I E OU SAC, WISCONSIN. EXTERIOR

Courtesy United States Bureau of Agricultural Chemistry and Engineering

The Farmhouse. Since the turn of the century, urban characteristics have been creeping into the design of farmhouses. The new houses, however, are often cramped and lack most of the basic requirements of a farmhouse (Fig. 145). The mechanization of agriculture, the smaller size of farm families, the development of improved equipment, and good transportation all make smaller houses possible. Nevertheless, the farm is still a self-sufficient unit to a considerable degree, and the farmhouse must still provide for many activities that need not be considered in the design of the urban house. Farm-family customs and practices that have developed over the years are also important considerations. Information on farmhouse requirements has until recently been based largely on general observation and a few spot studies in limited areas.2 A nation-wide study of farm family needs and preferences in housing,3 however, is yielding data of great value to farmhouse designers which justify setting up broad conclusions that should be considered in the design of farm dwellings. The farmhouse is an integral part of the farm group, and its orientation and 2 Maud Wilson, Homing Requirements of Farm Families in the United States, Miscellaneous Publication No. 322 (Washington: U.S. Department of Agriculture, Feb., 1939). Minimum Requirements for Farmhouses, Miscellaneous Publication No. 475 (Washington: U.S. Department of Agriculture, Oct., 1941). U.S. Department of Agriculture, "Proposed,Minimum Adequate Standards for the Farm Dwelling to be Located on an Adequate Farm" (July, 1944°, unpublished). 8 Glenn H. Beyer, Farmhousing in the Northwest (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1949). Marie Budolfson, Margaret I. Liston, and Elizabeth Willis, Farm Family Housing Needs and Preferences m the North Central Region, Research Bulletin (Ames, la.: Iowa Agricultural Experiment Station, 1950).

R U R A L ARCHITECTURE AND FARM PLANNING

227

location with respect to the other buildings, the entrance driveway, and the highway are important. As the "office building" of the farm enterprise, the house should be so located as to facilitate supervision over the farm buildings as well as all traffic and visitors coming into the farmstead. It is therefore desirable for the farm wife, who is usually in the kitchen or workroom during the day, to command a view of the entrance drive and the farm service buildings. In the farmhouse the important entrance is the one at the back or side. It is used constantly all day by the entire family and should be convenient both to the drive and to the service buildings. The front entrance, however, should be readily accessible from the drive to encourage its use by visitors. Since the farmhouse rarely has access to community water-supply and sewage systems, it must be located so that not only an adequate and safe supply of water is easily available but also that suitable conditions prevail for the disposal of sewage by means of a septic tank and tile field. Farmhouses generally require more space for household activities than urban houses. In many sections of the country the farm help is still lodged in the farm dwelling, and sometimes large crews of men must be fed. Except on specialized types of farms, dairy and poultry products are often handled in the house—at least to some extent—and there vegetables, fruits, and meats are canned or prepared for freezing or curing. In most sections of the country the family laundry work is done at the farm home, and here sewing is a more common activity than in urban homes. The effectiveness of the homemaker's work in terms of income is measured by the amount of cash it saves the family and by the satisfactions the group enjoys as a result of such efforts. Since the size of the housewife's contribution is restricted by the limits of her time and energy, her efforts will be made more efficient by the effective planning and equipping of the work areas. In most farm homes the kitchen corresponds in a way to the "keeping room" of the early colonial farmhouses. It is a family room where most of the regular meals are served, where the children play, and where neighbors are often received. The standards of upkeep and cleanliness are usually high. Provision must be made for the preparation of three substantial meals a day plus the regular baking of cakes, cookies, pies, and in many cases bread and rolls. The refrigerator and cooking equipment must be in scale with these operations. Until recently the wood- or coal-burning range was standard equipment in the farm kitchen, and many farm women still prefer it. Its use in

228

FIGURE

BUILDINGS FOR

RESIDENCE

1 4 6 . E X P E R I M E N T A L F A R M KITCHEN DEVELOPED B Y T H E BUREAU OF

H U M A N NUTRITION AND HOME

ECONOMICS Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture

low-cost farmhouses will probably persist because fuel can usually be obtained from the farm. It is essential that the kitchen have adequate and well-disposed counter or other table surfaces for the preparation and serving of foods; such surfaces should be planned so that two people can use them efficiently at the same time. Ample storage space for staples, regularly used utensils, china, and silver should be provided in locations where they are readily accessible (Fig. 146). This storage should accommodate large utensils, such as pressure cookers and canners, electric mixers, baking tins, kettles, and the like. Although in many cases canning and processing are done in the kitchen, it is desirable to have some other place for canning, cutting up meat, preparing vegetables, fruits, and meats for freezing, and packing eggs and dressing poultry for market, since these operations often are carried on simultaneously with meal preparation. T h e well-equipped workroom or utility room has come to be increasingly popular both as a place for laundry work and for these other tasks (Fig. 148). T h e most desirable location for the workroom is close to the kitchen. In the North, however, it is frequently placed in the basement. On specialized farms, where no stock or poultry is kept and where relatively little canning is done,

R U R A L ARCHITECTURE AND FARM PLANNING I»— EXPAN—»J

FIGURE

147.

229

EXPANDABLE

FARM DWELLING.

PLAN

Robert G. Cerny, architect, for Midwest Farm Papers, Inc.

FIGURE UTILITY

148.

MODERN

ROOM IN A

WISCONSIN FARMHOUSE

Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture

a separate workroom is less important. In the warmer parts of the Southeast it is common to have a screened work porch where laundry and other work can be done. Because of the large amount of traffic between the rear entrance and the other parts of the farmhouse, it is of major importance in planning the service rooms to route this traffic away from the work areas. One of the most common complaints of farm wives is that men coming in for meals three times a day must wash up at the kitchen sink. For this a lavatory or sink in the workroom or rear hall is an almost indispensable convenience. A ventilated closet close to the back door where work clothes can be hung should also be provided. Large quantities of perishable, canned, and preserved foods are stored on most farms. Frozen-food locker plants and home freezers may reduce the other storage requirements somewhat but will not eliminate them altogether, since it is unlikely that freezing will entirely supplant canning as a method of preserving certain types of fruits and vegetables. Foods preserved in glass

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

F I G U R E 1 4 9 . WISCONSIN F A R M H O U S E REMODELED B Y T H E F A M I L Y

WITH

THE

ASSISTANCE OF T H E B U R E A U OF A G R I C U L T U R A L E N G I N E E R I N G , U N I T E D STATES D E P A R T M E N T OF AGRICULTURE, AND T H E U N I V E R S I T Y OF WISCONSIN AS P A R T OF A RESEARCH P R O J E C T . P L A N BEFORE AND A F T E R

REMODELING

need a place that is cool, dark, dry, and protected from freezing temperatures; basements are often ideal for such storage. Many farm families store considerable quantities of apples, potatoes, and winter vegetables; in the North a root cellar is frequently a part of the basement, but in warmer climates cellars outside the house are common. In addition, storage spaces of the types needed in any home are of course required. (See Fig. 149.) Whether a separate dining room is provided or not, the majority of farm families want adequate facilities for eating all regular meals in the kitchen. In any case, the dining space in the farmhouse should be liberal, for the practice of putting all the food on the table at one time in large dishes requires a

R U R A L A R C H I T E C T U R E AND FARM PLANNING

231

FIGURE 1 5 0 . WISCONSIN FARMHOUSE REMODELED BY THE F A M I L Y WITH T H E ASSISTANCE OF T H E BUREAU OF AGRICULTURAL ENGINEERING, UNITED STATES DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE, AND THE UNIVERSITY OF WISCONSIN AS PART OF A RESEARCH PROJECT. EXTERIOR BEFORE AND AFTER

REMODELING

Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture

sizable dining table. In the kitchen the dining space should be segregated from the work area and be so placed that it will not be necessary for the men coming in to meals to pass through the work area to reach the table. A separate dining room, even if it is used only on special occasions, has always been favored in the country. Nevertheless, houses without dining rooms or with space for dining in the living room are more widely accepted today, particularly if the family income is limited. If there is a dining room, it frequently serves as a place where children may study in the evenings, as a room for sewing and ironing, as a center for table games and leisure activities, and as a business office. Dining porches are popular in warm sections of the country where there is little dust, but outside dining areas to be usable must be screened. Farm families usually want at least one bedroom on the first floor, even in a two-story house. This arrangement has many advantages. For one thing it

232

FIGURE

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

I J I . NEW

FARMHOUSE BUILT FROM P L A N S FURNISHED B Y

THE

UNITED STATES DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE AND THE UNIVERSITY OF GEORGIA Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture

lightens the work of the housewife if close to the work areas she has facilities for members of the family who may be ill. It also increases the flexibility of the house because as children grow up and leave home it is often possible to shut off the upstairs completely. In some areas a bedroom for the hired man is still necessary. When such a room is provided, it should be accessible without passage through the living areas. If the house has only one bathroom, many farm families prefer it on the first floor, close to the stairs, even though the bedrooms are on the second floor. The farmhouse should supply a place where correspondence can be carried on, business transacted, and records and papers stored. The facilities needed depend entirely on the size of the farm enterprise. Space for a desk and a filing cabinet may serve the purpose. On large farms, however, a separate office is often justified. (See Fig. 149.) Because of its isolation, the farmhouse itself is usually the center of the social and leisure activities of the family. Even with modern transportation farm families do not go outside the home for as much of their amusement as do urban dwellers. Entertainment of guests, family dinners, and the like are important in the social life of rural families. Meetings of local clubs and such other organizations as church groups, sewing circles, and 4-H clubs are often held in the houses of members. Naturally the frequency and size of such gatherings vary, depending on local custom and the availability of com-

R U R A L ARCHITECTURE AND FARM PLANNING

233

munity facilities. Gatherings of twenty-five are not uncommon. Hobbies, too, are important in farm life and should receive attention in the design of the house. Farm-Labor Housing. Farm labor falls into two general types—year-round labor and migratory or seasonal labor. Housing for year-round labor is frequently provided on the farm. A separate house for the married "hand" is fairly common. Some large farms may have several houses for farm-labor families. In many regions single men live in the farmhouse and eat with the family. On large farms, where there are a number of single hired hands, bunk houses are usually provided. Some farm laborers have their own homes and land and augment their income by raising much of their own food. When an old farmhouse is replaced by a new one, the old dwelling often is assigned to the family of the hired hand. Houses built specifically for farm labor have usually been small and without modern improvements, but many farmers are coming to realize the value of better housing for attracting reliable farm-labor families. In general the requirements of houses for year-round farm laborers, located on farms or on plots that supply food for the family, are similar to those for farmhouses. Obviously they pose a more difficult design problem than that of the farmhouse, since usually they must provide for the needs of the family at a very low cost. They differ in some respects, principally in the number and variety of farm tasks that must be accommodated. Here as a rule the work areas need not be so highly developed and no provision need be made for farm business activities. Similarly, the relation of the house and its rooms to the other farm buildings is less important than in the case of the farmhouse. If built on the farm, labor houses should be located so as to be convenient to the highway and to the farm buildings but sufficiently separated from the farm dwelling to insure privacy. They should be placed so that prevailing winds do not blow barn-lot odors toward them. Because farm-labor families have a tendency to move with considerable frequency, the house should be flexible enough in its provisions to accommodate families of different sizes and compositions with a reasonable degree of comfort and privacy. A minimum of two bedrooms is therefore desirable, with the possibility of sleeping arrangements in a third room other than the kitchen. Ample but simple storage facilities are needed for staple supplies, perishable food, and cooking utensils. Some provision should be made for laundry work; the location and equipment will depend largely on the climate. The extent to

*34

BUILDINGS F O R RESIDENCE FIGURE 1 5 2 . HOUSE SUITABLE FOR FARM-LABOR

FAMILY.

PLAN AND EXTERIOR

Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture

'which utilities are provided will vary; however, running water and a kitchen sink with a drain should be considered minimum and in this case some space should be furnished for at least a future bathroom. Adequate cooking and heating facilities should be planned. Figure 152 shows a small house, developed by the United States Department of Agriculture, suitable for a farm-labor family in the North. All facilities are included, but plumbing can easily be omitted. Laundry work is provided for in the bathroom rather than in the kitchen to keep the attendant moisture and steam out of the living area. The roof is trussed in order to make rearrangement or enlargement at a later date relatively inexpensive. Housing for seasonal labor has become an increasingly urgent and complex problem since the development of large-scale commercial farming enterprises. With the depression of the 1930's the migratory-labor force was vastly augmented; moreover it now included in its ranks many family units. Some of the large farmers and growers provided shelter, but thousands of the migrants had

R U R A L ARCHITECTURE AND FARM PLANNING

235

to camp in vacant lots and along roads adjacent to small towns and villages. Sanitation was virtually unknown, infant mortality was high, and there was little opportunity for children to attend school. The Second World War transformed the surplus-labor problem into one of man-power distribution, with the result that an acute shortage of farm labor prevailed in many areas long after the war was over. Studies are now being made by the Department of Agriculture in areas where an adequate supply of seasonal labor depends on the furnishing of suitable housing. A recent survey of transient-labor housing provided on farms in Morgan County, Colorado, where workers are needed in the sugar-beet fields, resulted in the following conclusions as to the requirements for this type of housing: 4 1. The houses should have a minimum of three rooms (two sleeping rooms and a kitchen), so arranged that they may be occupied by either one large family or two small families using the kitchen in common. At least two separate outside entrances should be planned for any house of three rooms or more. Off the kitchen a porch, preferably with a concrete floor, is desirable to provide additional living space. In dry areas basements are recommended, for they make satisfactory and economical sleeping or living areas. A reasonable amount of closet space is needed for clothing and personal effects. Kitchens should have wood- or coal-burning ranges and enclosed storage for fuel. Running water in the kitchen and a sink with a sanitary drain are desirable. Adequate sanitary facilities should be provided, with a sanitary privy as a minimum. 2. These houses should be simple to frame and build and should be constructed of durable, easily maintained materials. Floors and inside wall finishes that are not easily damaged and can be easily cleaned are important, since they are subject to considerable abuse. Rural Non-Farm Housing. The occupants of rural non-farm houses vary widely. They may be farm laborers, retired farmers, or, as is often the case, people who work in near-by towns and cities. The requirements for this type of housing will depend on the needs of the individual families. Frequently their needs will more nearly approach those of the suburban dweller than those of the farm family. How Rural Houses Are Built. Traditionally the rural family has built or * P. F. Gifford, unpublished report on farm-labor housing study. Bureau of Plant Industry, Soils, and Agricultural Engineering, and Extension Sen-ice, U.S. Department of Agriculture, in co-operation with the Colorado State College of Agriculture and Mechanic Arts.

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

236

FIGURE

153.

Y A M H I L L PROJECT

HOUSE B U I L T UNDER T H E

BANKHEAD-JONES

T E N A N T PURCHASE PROGRAM. EXTERIOR Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture

helped with the building of the farmhouse or farm-labor house. It is common for the farmer, with the aid of his sons or the farm hands, to do much of the rough work, such as excavating, grading, rough framing, and the like, and to employ a mason or carpenter by the hour and work with him on the rest, even to the finishing of the house. It is therefore important that the design of the house be simple and that complicated framing, as well as the use of details or materials that depend on fine craftsmanship to achieve satisfactory results, be avoided. Often the farm can supply good native materials, such as timber for log construction or for sawing into lumber, sand and gravel for concrete, local stone, and earth suitable for rammed-earth or adobe construction. From both the aesthetic and the economic point of view it seems desirable to design houses that will utilize such materials. R U R A L HOUSING

PROGRAMS

It is only since the 1930's that much attention has been given to improving rural housing. The three principal avenues of attack on the problem have been technical and economic research, education, and financing. The Bureau of Plant Industry, Soils, and Agricultural Engineering and the Bureau of Human Nutrition and Home Economics of the United States Department of Agriculture, as well as some of the state agricultural colleges, carry on research aimed at determining the requirements of rural families and providing for them through the development of adequate space standards and the proper planning of space and equipment (Fig. 154). Studies of native materials with a view to increasing their use have been carried on by the Bureau of Plant

RURAL ARCHITECTURE AND FARM PLANNING PORCH

9

£ EL' 1

BED

ROOM

57 0 R [ [FU T BA TH) — |



:

KITCHEN

1

DINING

237

FIGURE 1 5 4 . FEDERAL PUBLIC HOUSING AUTHORITY HOUSE, TUPELO, MISSISSIPPI. PLAN AND AN EXTERIOR

Photograph courtesy Federal Public Housing Authority Library

PORCH

Industry, Soils, and Agricultural Engineering, the Forest Service, the Farm Security Administration, and the state colleges. Adobe and rammed earth, native stone, concrete aggregates, home-sawed lumber, cotton, and farmproduced insulating materials are some that have received attention. Many new materials and construction types adapted to rural use have been investigated by these agencies and also by the Housing and Home Finance Agency, the National Bureau of Standards, and others. Research to devise more satisfactory methods of financing, directed toward developing a sound farmhousing policy, is being carried on by the Bureau of Agricultural Economics and other agencies. T h e Bureau of Agricultural Economics is concerned also with studying the influence that environment and family attitudes have had on securing good farm housing. In addition, this Bureau intends to analyze the existing channels for distributing building materials and services to farmers in order to discover possible economies. Educational activities aimed at acquainting farm families with ways and means of improving their houses are conducted, through co-operative extension work in agriculture and home economics, by the United States Department of Agriculture and the state agricultural colleges. This work is augmented bv the activities of other public and private organizations, including the

238

B U I L D I N G S FOR RESIDENCE

building-material industry. The various extension services have been effective not only in encouraging farm electrification, better water supply, plumbing, and sewage disposal but also in aiding farm families to plan and furnish their homes and to budget for housing. Furthermore the Department of Agriculture co-operates with the state colleges in operating regional plan services, which make plans and working drawings of farmhouses suitable for each region available to fanners through their state extension services (Fig. 151). Publications based on research and presenting information on planning, building, remodeling, and equipping farmhouses are also prepared by the Department and by the colleges as an aid to farmers. Such financial agencies as the Farm Credit Administration, the Federal Housing Administration, and the Veterans Administration are authorized to make or insure loans for farmhouse construction and modernization. Their organizational set-up, however, is not specifically designed to stimulate farmhouse improvement. These loans are available principally to all those fanners capable of supporting or financing acceptable housing even though they are in the low-income brackets. The housing of families on inadequate farms which lack the necessary improvements to support the family economically has always been a problem that affects large segments of the rural population. One effort to solve the problem is included in the Bankhead-Jones Farm Tenant Act now administered by the Farmers Home Administration. This legislation makes it possible either for tenant farmers to purchase adequate units or for owners on inadequate farms to enlarge or improve their present holdings until they are effective units. Funds for building or improving farmhouses are often included in the loans (Fig. 153). A second method is through subsidy. Under the United States Housing Act of 1937, contracts for loans and annual contributions were entered into with local housing authorities in rural areas by the Federal Public Housing Authority (now the Public Housing Administration), and 515 farmhouses were built before the program was stopped by the war (Fig. 154). 5 The families so housed were located on economic agricultural units but were unable to support acceptable housing. The most comprehensive program to aid low-income farmers to obtain acceptable housing is contained in the Housing Act of 1949. This Act authorizes the Secretary of Agriculture to extend financial assistance, through the Farmers 5 Federal Public Housing Authority, Homes for Farm Families (Washington: Rural Housing Program of the Federal Public Housing Authority; processed).

RURAL ARCHITECTURE AND FARM PLANNING

FIGURE

239

1 5 5 . CUL-DE-SAC GROUPING, THORNTON HOMES, THORNTON,

CALIFORNIA. EXTERIOR Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture

Home Administration,6 to owners of farms to enable them to provide decent, safe, and sanitary living conditions and adequate farm buildings for themselves and their tenants. In order to be eligible for such assistance the applicant must be without sufficient resources to provide the necessary housing and buildings on his own account and unable to secure the necessary credit from other sources. This Act also authorizes research and technical assistance to all farmers whether they are eligible for loans or not. The Rural Electrification Administration of the United States Department of Agriculture is authorized to make loans, through local co-operatives, for the purpose of extending electric power lines to families not now served. Also authorized are loans for the wiring of premises and for the acquisition and installation of electrical and plumbing appliances and equipment. This program has been of great value in bringing about improvements in rural housing. The program of the Tennessee Valley Authority, in the South, has been similarly beneficial. Group purchasing of materials and equipment and group hiring of labor are being attempted by some farm co-operatives. One federated regional farmers' co-operative has actually built houses.7 •Farmers Home Administration, Farmbouiing Loans, Publication PA-81 (Washington: Farmers Home Administration, 1950). 7 R o y J . Burroughs, "Farmers Co-operative Construction Service," Land Policy Review, Winter, 1945.

240

FIGURE

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

1 5 6 . WOODVILLE F A R M WORKERS' C O M M U N I T Y ,

WOODVILLE,

CALIFORNIA. SITE PLAN Vernon DeMars, chief architect for Farm Security Administration Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture

T o alleviate the distress of the families of migratory workers, a program of camp construction was started in 1935 by the Emergency Relief Administration and continued first by the Resettlement Administration and later by the Farm Security Administration of the United States Department of Agriculture.8 These camps were of two types—permanent and mobile. Permanent camps were erected in areas where the concentration was heaviest and where workers were needed six or more months of the year. Such ® History of Farm-Labor Activities of the Farm Security Administration, F S A Publication No. 131 (Washington: U.S. Department of Agriculture, W a r Food Administration; processed).

R U R A L ARCHITECTURE AND FARM PLANNING

FIGURE

241

1 5 7 . C O M M U N I T Y CENTER AND SCHOOL BUILDING, WOODVILI.F. F A R M

WORKERS* C O M M U N I T Y , WOODVILLE, CALIFORNIA.

EXTERIOR

Vernon DeMars, chief architect f o r Farm Security Administration Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture

FIGURE 1 5 8 . S T E E L CABINS FOR MIGRANT WORKERS, T U L A R E MIGRANT C A M P , VISALIA, CALIFORNIA. EXTERIOR Vernon DeMars, chief architect f o r Farm Security Administration Photograph Rothstein, courtesy F S A

camps have metal or frame shelters for from 175 to 450 families, as well as sanitary buildings providing toilets, shower baths, and laundry tubs. In most of these camps there are also cottages or multiple-unit dwellings for families

242

BUILDINGS FOR R E S I D E N C E

FIGURE

159.

F A R M WORKERS* YUBA CITY,

CAMP,

CALIFORNIA.

AIR V I E W AND EXTERIOR OF M U L T I - F A M I L Y

HOUSE

Vernon DeMars, chief architect for Farm Security Administration Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture

with year-round employment (Fig. 155). The residents have gardens and often keep cows, hogs, and chickens to furnish part of their food supply. Mobile camps were developed to provide for those crop areas where large numbers of workers are needed for short periods only. In such camps the housing unit consists of either a tent with a wooden platform or a demountable structure put together in sections. Sanitary facilities similar to those in the permanent camps are provided, but the showers, wash tubs, and power plants are housed in trailers or demountable buildings. F A R M BUILDINGS The ability to produce food is the basis on which civilization flourishes. Farming has been and still is the largest business in the United States, and the farm income for 1946 amounted to some $18,889,000,000. The fact that most of the six million individual farms are small family enterprises makes them nonetheless important. Farm work is hard, the hours are long, and the income is uncertain. Developments in farm machinery are helping materially to reduce the drudgery associated with the planting, cultivation, and harvesting of crops. Neverthe-

RURAL ARCHITECTURE AND FARM PLANNING

243

less, approximately one-third of the average farmer's working hours are spent in and around farm buildings; in fact, in the production of such farm products as milk, poultry, and eggs the proportion may run as high as 80 per cent. In the farm enterprise, therefore, the importance of buildings cannot be overlooked. Farm buildings designed and equipped for efficient operation increase the productive capacity of the farm, improve the quality of the products, and provide better working conditions. In the early days farm structures were relatively simple. In the North the barn was the most important building. It often housed all the livestock and provided a place for threshing and for storing the grain, straw, and hay The farm implements, too, were frequently kept in the barn. There were other smaller buildings, such as the springhouse or the icehouse where milk and other perishable foods were kept for short periods, a smokehouse for curing meats, a root cellar for storing apples and winter vegetables, corncribs, and the like. In the South, barns for curing and storing tobacco were usually more common than livestock barns. As the population increased, the demands on agriculture became heavier. With the advent of farm machinery, farming practices changed, buildings were converted to new uses, and new buildings were added. The result has been that many farms present a hodgepodge of structures, many of them illadapted to present-day requirements and others badly in need of modernization and repair and in most cases inefficiently arranged on the farmstead. THE

FARMSTEAD

The farmstead is the center of the farm enterprise. Within the farmstead are located all the important farm buildings—including the farmhouse— together with the necessary yards, roads, and gardens. The area in which the buildings stand is usually surrounded by fences or walls to separate it from the fields and pastures. The number and type of the buildings and the arrangement of buildings, yards, and roads vary greatly with the locality and the type of fanning. Regardless of differences, however, certain considerations are important in the selection of any site for the farmstead. These include convenient access to the highway and to the fields and pastures, a well-drained site suitable for a sanitary sewage-disposal system, an ample supply of good water, enough level ground for the work areas and for easy grade connections between the buildings, and a good outlook for the house.

B U I L D I N G S FOR R E S I D E N C E Com and small grain Potatoes Irish and sweet Tobacco Hay Hogs' Cattle and calves

FIGURE

1 6 0 . E S T I M A T E D P E R C E N T A G E OF

T H E TOTAL M A N - H O U R S FOR E N T E R P R I S E S WHICH AROUND F A R M U N I T E D STATES,

SELECTED

ARE SPENT

IN

AND

BUILDINGS, 1943

Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture

Sheep and lambs Milk Poultry and eggs Horses and mules Other crops and livestock Farm maintenance and repairs of equipment Work m and around buildings as percent of all farm work

Between the farmsteads in the United States and those in Europe there are important differences. Both in the British Isles and on the Continent, farmsteads are frequently located in villages some distance away from the farm itself. The farm buildings as a rule are grouped together, often around a court and frequently with all the buildings, including the house, connected. One of the noticeable changes which occurred when the colonists settled in North America was in the arrangement of the farmstead. The various buildings were erected as individual structures, and the house was separated from the others. Occasionally, and particularly in New England where the winters were severe, important buildings were connected by covered passages or by sheds (Fig. 140), but rarely were they as closely grouped as in Europe. Except in a few localities it is uncommon to find American farmsteads located in villages away from the farms. The arrangement of the European farmstead requires less land and minimizes the distances between buildings. It also makes for economy in construction. The arrangement found in the United States, on the other hand, is more flexible, and there is less danger of the spread of fire, disease, vermin, and odors. The buildings found on the farms of the United States fall generally in the following categories: ( 1 ) the dwelling or dwellings; (2) housing for livestock and poultry; (3) storage for crops and feed; (4) storage for machinery and equipment; (5) buildings for processing; and (6) special-purpose buildings.

RURAL ARCHITECTURE AND FARM PLANNING

es/ r — » FEED FLOOR

HOG HOUSE

-

F A R M D W E L L I N G S IN RELATION TO OTHER

245

FIGURE 1 6 1 . PLAN OF FARMSTEAD FOR NORTH CENTRAL STATES

STRUCTURES

In planning the location of the buildings on the farmstead it is desirable to group together those buildings between which there is much traffic. The farmhouse should be convenient to all parts of the farmstead, because travel between the house and the other buildings is frequent; it should also command a good view of both the entrance drive and the other buildings. Buildings in which feed is stored in large quantities should be centrally located, unless storage for appreciable amounts of feed is provided in each of the buildings housing livestock. The grouping of buildings around a service yard or court is desirable. The court provides space for parking and for the loading of trucks and the like and also permits direct access to the various buildings. Fire is a constant hazard on most farms because of the quantities of inflammable materials—such as hay, oil, and gasoline—often stored on the premises. Danger of the spread of fire should be minimized by locating the buildings for such storage so that prevailing winds do not blow from them toward other important structures, particularly the farmhouse. The location of the farmhouse to windward of the livestock buildings is also important, especially in summer, to prevent barn odors from reaching it. Figure 161 shows an arrangement of buildings for a farmstead of a mediumsized farm in the North Central States. The farmhouse occupies a central location to the windward and is far enough from the other buildings to be protected from odors and the danger of fire. The one-story dairy barn is attached to a hay barn by a passage, which opens also into the feed rooms and the silos.

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

246

FIGURE

1 6 2 . A N I M A L P S Y C H R O E N E R G E T I C LABORATORY, C O L U M B I A ,

MISSOURI.

C U T A W A Y ISOMETRIC VIEW Courtesy United Stares Department of Agriculture

T h e milk house, too, is connected with the barn by an open passage; it is located opposite a central cross alley to reduce steps in traveling between the stalls and the milk room. A barn cleaner delivers manure into the manure spreader, which is housed in a shed at the southeast corner of the barn. T h e hay barn has an open shed for beef cattle. A movable manger can be moved back as the hay is fed out. T h e yards for both the dairy and beef cattle lie to the south and east of the barns and are therefore well protected against winter winds from the northwest. T h e hog house and corncrib, with a feeding floor between them, form another compact feeding unit. T h e poultry house, with a run to the south, also has its own feed room. Lanes lead to the fields, and the pastures and fences are so arranged that it is unnecessary to pass through gates or yards to enter any of the buildings. HOUSING

FOR

LIVESTOCK

T h e function of livestock buildings is to protect the farm animals from excessive cold, harsh winds, rain, sleet, snow, and excessive summer heat. T h e buildings must also provide a place where the farmer can feed and care for the animals adequately and efficiently. Present-day requirements for livestock buildings, particularly those involv-

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247

ing the effect of temperatures and humidity on the health and productivity of the animals, are based largely on opinion. Research is under way to determine the optimum conditions for housing dairy cows, hogs, and poultry. Figure 162 shows the Animal Psychroenergetic Laboratory at Columbia, Missouri, where the United States Department of Agriculture and the University of Missouri are using controlled laboratory conditions to determine the effect of temperature, humidity, light, air movement, space, and other conditions on the performance of the dairy cow. Research of this kind may have a farreaching influence on the design of livestock buildings and management practices. The best available information indicates that ordinary cold weather is not injurious to horses, cattle, and sheep; extreme cold, however, affects both the milk yield of dairy cows confined in stalls and the egg production of hens. Hogs may also be harmed by very low temperatures. All animals need a bed that is warm and dry. In properly constructed buildings the heat produced by the animals is ordinarily sufficient to maintain satisfactory temperatures, although in cold regions insulation may be required. Animals that are born in cold weather— as well as baby chicks—need special protection and often some artificial heat. Most farm animals need shade in summer, since ordinarily they cannot stand high temperatures and humidity even as well as human beings can. Fresh air, sunshine, and clean, dry quarters are important in the control of disease and pests. Housing for Dairy Cows. In addition to the provision of adequate shelter for the herd, dairy barns must be carefully planned so that milking, feeding, and caring for the animals and cleaning the barn can be carried on efficiently. Milk is easily contaminated, and high standards of cleanliness and sanitation are required. For all major milk sheds in the country public-health authorities have established standards which affect the design and maintenance of barns and milk houses. In cold regions cow barns must be designed for the efficient storing and feeding of large amounts of hay, ensilage, and other coarse feeds, along with smaller amounts of grain and concentrates. Storage for considerable quantities of straw or other bedding is also needed. The barns are of two principal types: (1) the stall barn, and (2) the loosehousing system. In the first type, the cows are confined in individual stalls by means of stanchions or neck chains. In winter they are kept in the stalls except for exercise periods. The stalls are usually arranged in rows, most barns

248

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

FIGURE 1 6 3 . MODERN TWO-STORY DAIRY BARN. PLAN AND EXTERIOR Photograph courtesy United States Department of Agriculture

having one or two rows running the entire length of the building, with a manger and feed alley in front of the stalls and a litter alley behind (Fig. 162). Stalls may face either in or out, although the latter arrangement is generally preferred. Stall platforms vary in size depending on the size of the cows. 9 Two-row barns are usually built in widths of 34, 36, or 38 feet, the length varying with the number of cows to be housed. Since cows not only sleep but also are fed and milked in the stalls, cleanliness is important; the gutters and litter alleys should be cleaned before each milking. Stall barns are usually oriented with the long axis north and south to admit equal amounts of sun on both sides. Where the loose-housing system 1 0 is used, the cows are brought into the milking room in relays and remain only long enough to be milked and in some cases to be fed concentrates. A retaining barn provides shelter and a place for them to feed. With either system provision must be made for calves, heifers, dry cows, and calving cows, and often for a bull. Both systems are prevalent although where there is a lack of straw or other bedding the stall barn is more common, since only about half as much bedding is required here as in the loose-housing system. The latter in mild or dry areas where stock can be outdoors much of the time is less costly and more adaptable to changes in the size of the herd than is the stall type. (See Fig. 163.) Ventilating systems are needed in cold climates to regulate temperatures • Functional Requirements in Designing Dairy Barns, Circular No. 722 (Washington: U.S. Department of Agriculture, 1945). 10 Dairy Cattle Housing (Regional Bulletin No. 7, Sept., 1946; rev., Sept., 1949), Agricultural Experiment Station Bulletin No. 470, rev. (Madison, Wis.: University of Wisconsin, Sept, 1949).

RURAL ARCHITECTURE AND FARM PLANNING

249

and avoid extreme fluctuations, as well as to remove excessive moisture and provide fresh air. A system of the gravity type or one with thermostatically controlled fans is used. The practice of storing hay, grain, and bedding in a mow above the dairy herd is one of long standing. With this type of storage, hay and bedding are thrown down to the feed and litter alleys through conveniently located chutes in the floor. With the growing use of baled or chopped hay and grass silage, however, one-story barns with hay and bedding storage in an adjoining building are coming into the picture; the feed can be easily moved on rubber-tired carts and the climbing of ladders or stairs to the mow is eliminated. The risk of losing the herd as a result of fire or wind is also less in the one-story barn. Health regulations require the prompt removal of milk from the stable to the milk room, where it can be cooled quickly. In most areas regulations do not permit the milk room to be located in the barn, but in that case it can usually be connected to the stable by a covered, open passage. Electricity, piped water, and modern barn equipment have aided much in reducing the labor requirements. Future research and changes in equipment and feeding practices will undoubtedly further modify the design of dairy barns. Housing for Beef Cattle. Range cattle in climates similar to that in the western part of the United States need little in the way of buildings. Cattle to be fattened are often confined in open feed lots. In dry regions windbreaks provide sufficient shelter, whereas in humid areas open-front buildings adjacent to the feed lots are generally used. In very cold climates closed buildings are sometimes provided. Sheds or buildings should have from 30 to 40 square feet of floor area per mature animal, in addition to space for racks and troughs. Breeding stock is often kept in box stalls and sometimes in individual stalls. When so confined it needs protection from weather extremes. Like dairy cows, these animals consume great quantities of feed and water; therefore planning which will save chore labor is of considerable importance. Housing for Sheep. Few structures are needed for sheep on the open range. In mild climates farm flocks require only open sheds, though in severe climates provision should be made for closing the buildings during storms. The buildings should allow 12 to 15 square feet of floor space per ewe, in addition to space for the feed racks. The buildings should be so designed that temporary lambing pens can be set up for extra warmth during the lambing season. Controlled ventilation is desirable where the buildings must be closed for

25o

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

any length of time, since dryness and freedom from drafts are important. Both the buildings and the lots should be arranged so that the ewes are disturbed as little as possible when lambing. Housing for Hogs. Hog houses may be of either the individual, movable type or the large central type. Individual houses usually take one of two forms: the A shape, usually measuring about 8 by 8 feet, or the box, 7 by 8 feet, with side walls at least 3 feet high.11 Guard rails to prevent sows from injuring small pigs should be located about 9 inches above the floor and should extend 10 inches from the walls in the box-type house. Such houses mounted on skids can readily be moved to clean ground or pasture and thus aid in the control of disease. This feature, coupled with their low first cost and the fact that they can often be purchased prefabricated and assembled, has resulted in their wide use in all sections of the country. Usually central houses are used only when six or more sows are kept. This type of house is equipped with pens, ranging in size from 7 by 8 feet to 8 by 9 feet, for individual sows and their litters. For each pen it is customary to provide outside runs of the same width as the pen and from 8 to 20 feet long. Floors are necessary in the central-type house, and all the surfaces should be of materials that can be kept clean and sanitary. In the North, houses with one row of pens are usually oriented to face either to the south or to the east, whereas two-row houses are more often placed with the long axis north and south in order that all the pens may receive equal amounts of sun. Since little pigs chill at temperatures below 50° F., provisions for stove heat are sometimes made in northern latitudes; however, electric pig brooders that provide warmth in a corner of each pen for small pigs are often used in preference to heating the entire house. Poultry Houses. The two principal types of buildings used on poultry farms are brooder houses and laying houses. Brooder houses are equipped with a heated brooder to keep baby chicks warm until they are well feathered. A brooder house 10 by 12 feet will accommodate about 300 baby chicks until they are six to eight weeks old. The houses are usually built on skids for easy moving to clean ground. Prefabricated houses are available, and some small houses are delivered assembled. Laying houses may be either of a small, movable, colony type or of a central type on permanent foundations. Colony houses are used in all sections of 11 Hog Housing Requirements, Circular No. 701 (Washington: U.S. Department of Agriculture, May, 1944).

RURAL ARCHITECTURE AND FARM PLANNING

FIGURE

251

1 6 4 . LARGE MULTI-STORY LAYING HOUSE OF THE CONNECTICUT T Y P E Photograph G . W . Ackerman, courtesy Extension Service, United States Department of Agriculture

the country but most often in the mild and warmer latitudes. For ease in handling, colony houses are rarely made larger than about 12 by 14 feet. The usual ones are high enough for a man to enter; some, however, are low, with provisions for uncovering them for cleaning and care. Colony houses are placed in orchards or pastures, and the birds are allowed free range. The central-type laying house is generally built in units. Common sizes for small breeds range from units 12 by 14 feet, designed for 40 hens, to units 24 by 24 feet for 160 hens. 12 Some units 40 by 40 feet are also being built. When the flock numbers more than 1,200 hens, two- and three-story houses are often used (Fig. 164). Roosts are set either above dropping boards or over pits. Manure is removed from the boards frequently, but the pits need to be cleaned out only a few times a season. In the larger houses and those located at a distance from the feed-storage buildings, storage space for both feed and straw should be provided. In mild climates poultry houses with sizable windows or open fronts are used. In colder climates the walls and ceilings should be insulated and the glass area limited to from 4 to 12 square feet per 100 square feet of floor area, the smaller glass area being used in the colder climates. Controlled ventilation is also needed in cold climates, not only to provide fresh air for the birds but also to help keep the litter dry. 12 Functional Requirements m Designing Laying Houses for Poultry, Circular No. 738 (Washington: U.S. Department of Agriculture, Oct., 1945). Poultry House Requirements, New Jersey Experiment Station Bulletin No. 732 (New Brunswick, N.J.: Rutgers University).

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

FIGURE 1 6 5 . EXPERIMENTAL PREFABRICATED METAL BINS, HUTCHINSON, KANSAS. EXTERIOR Courtesy United Stares Department of Agriculture STORAGE FOR CROPS

The kinds and quantities of crops to be stored on the farm vary with the type of farming, the weather, local practices, the soil, and other factors. Also, the types of storage which best preserve the several types of crops differ. Although modern storage buildings are superior to those built in the past, losses in many stored crops are still high and research to improve methods of storing and handling crops is still in progress. Grain Storage. Wheat, rye, oats, barley, and the like, when they contain more than approximately 13 per cent moisture, cannot be safely stored in warm weather. In most parts of the United States these crops are usually dry enough to be stored when harvested, but in late or wet seasons artificial drying is sometimes necessary, especially in humid climates. The important factor in storing grain is protection from moisture, insects, rodents, and high temperatures.13 Granaries must be tight enough to keep out rain and, in the north, driving snow and in warm climates to hold fumigating gases. Prefabricated bins of sheet metal and wood are available (Fig. 165). Concrete is often used for floors, but precautions must be taken against ground moisture; it is also used for the walls of storage facilities where periodic turning of the grain is practiced. Granaries should be designed to withstand the heavy pressures exerted on bin walls and floors, since grains weigh from 25 to over 50 pounds per cubic foot and are stored in considerable depth. 13 Benton M. Stahl, Grain Bm Requirements, Circular No. 835 (Washington: U.S. Department of Agriculture, March, 1950).

R U R A L A R C H I T E C T U R E AND FARM PLANNING

253

Corncribs. In the important corn-growing areas, corn is stored on the ear.14 The most common types of permanent storage units are cribs sided with wood slats (spaced about 1 inch apart to permit ventilation) or with walk of perforated clay tile or concrete block. Temporary cribs with walls of snow fence or wire mesh are in common use. In the principal growing areas the cribs are 6 to 12 feet wide, with vertical sides 8 to 24 feet high. In humid regions the cribs are usually narrower and may be only 4 feet wide at the bottom and 6 to 8 feet at the top. A common type of storage element is one with cribs on each side of a driveway and with grain bins above; an elevator is used for filling both bins and cribs. Cribs that can be tightly closed are needed in warm climates where fumigation is necessary to control insects. For long-time storage, corn should be shelled when dry and stored in tight bins. Ear corn weighs about 28 pounds per cubic foot and has a tendency to arch against walls and over cross braces; the cribs must therefore be well tied together with braces of adequate size to support the weight of the corn above. Artificial drying of seed corn has been practiced for many years and some farmers are considering artificial drying of the main crop as a regular practice. New types of corncribs and forced-air drying units for this purpose are being developed.10 P tato Storage. Potatoes and most vegetables are spoiled by freezing and lose weight or sprout excessively under unfavorable conditions of temperature, humidity, and light. Small quantities of potatoes and vegetables are often stored temporarily in pits in the ground if conditions permit. Well-constructed storage buildings are needed for winter storage in most areas. The storage units should provide for ventilation, air circulation, and heating or cooling when needed, for temperature and humidity are the important factors in storing both white and sweet potatoes.16 A type of storage well-suited to level sites is shown in Figure 166. It is a single-drive storage unit with bins 8 to 12 feet deep. White-potato storage facilities as a rule are partly or entirely below the ground, although aboveground storage units are satisfactory in regions where the average annual temperature is above 650 F. or in colder areas if the build14 C. K. Shedd, Storage of Ear Corn on the Farm, Farmers' Bulletin No. 2010 U.S. Department of Agriculture, Sept., 1949). 15 Claude K . Shedd, Mechanical Drying of Corn on the Farm, Circular No. 839 U.S. Department of Agriculture, March, 19*0). 18 Alfred D. Edgar, Potato Storage, Farmers' Bulletin No. 1986 (Washington: ment of Agriculture, Oct., 1947). J . M. Lutz and J . W . Simons, Storage of Farmers' Bulletin No. 1442, rev. (Washington: U.S. Department of Agriculture,

(Washington: (Washington: U.S. DepartSweetpotatoes, Jan., 1948).

2

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

54

FIGURE 166. NEBRASKA-TYPE TRACKSIDE FARM STORAGE. EXTERIOR AND PLAN Courtesy United States Department of Agriculture

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ing is well-insulated or heated. In some buildings elevated driveways permit the filling of the bins from above, and in large storage elements mechanical conveyors or elevators are often employed to remove the potatoes from storage after they have been sacked. Both ventilation and air circulation are needed to remove moisture and to control the temperature. A recently developed system provides for air circulation in wall ducts rather than through the potatoes. This system carries off the excess heat generated by the potatoes without causing excessive shrinkage. Where in warm climates seed potatoes are held until late spring, refrigeration is needed.

R U R A L ARCHITECTURE AND FARM PLANNING

255

Sweet-potato storage facilities are usually built above the ground. The tubers are stored in crates or hampers on a raised, slatted floor to permit air circulation. Wood, coal, and oil stoves have commonly been used for heating the houses during the curing period; electricity is now being employed for small houses, however, and this has distinct advantages. In some large houses thermostatically controlled steam, hot-water, and hot-air systems have been used. Since light causes sprouting and deterioration of both sweet and white potatoes, the houses are usually designed without windows and are lighted artificially only when the men are working. Apple Storage. Though cellars and air-cooled buildings are often used for keeping small quantities of apples, refrigerated space is needed for large-scale storage of the more perishable varieties. Commercial storage facilities frequently suffice for the small producer, but the trend now is for groups of such producers to build co-operative storage elements. Apples keep best at temperatures slightly below 32 0 F. and at a relative humidity of 85 per cent.17 The fruit is stored in field boxes or baskets stacked so that air can circulate freely around them. Forced circulation of air is used with refrigeration, and the buildings should be well insulated. Because of the high humidity required, it is important to use materials and types of construction that are resistant to moisture. Silos. T w o types of silos are in common use—permanent and temporary. Permanent aboveground silos are built either of concrete, clay tile, and wood staves tied together with metal hoops or of brick, concrete, or clay tile blocks with reinforcing between courses. Metal and reinforced concrete are also frequently used. Silos are built from 10 to 20 feet in diameter, depending on the number of animals to be fed, and from 25 to 50 feet high, depending on the length of the feeding period. Where the ground water is low, pit silos of similar dimensions, lined with cement plaster or masonry, are sometimes found. Aboveground silo walls should be airtight and the doors must be closely fitted. The walls should be circular in form, plumb both for strength and to permit the settling and packing of the silage; they must also be designed to withstand considerable lateral pressures since a silo 14 by 30 feet has a capacity of about 92 tons.18 The ensilage is removed in layers from the top of the silo through a series of doors, one above the other, which open from the silo into 11 W. V. Hukill and Edwin Smith, Cold Storage for Apples and Pears, Circular No. 740 (Washington: U.S. Department of Agriculture, Feb., 1946). 18 J. R. McCalmont, Silo Types and Construction, Farmers' Bulletin No. 1838 (Washington: U.S. Department of Agriculture).

256

B U I L D I N G S F O R RESIDENCE

a vertical chute. Silos are roofed in regions of heavy snow, rain, or extreme cold. Temporary silos are usually either of the trench type, dug on sloping ground so that water can drain away at the low end, or of the aboveground, circular variety made of snow fencing and lined with waterproof paper. Tobacco Barns. There are two principal types of tobacco-curing barns— the air-curing and the flue-curing. Barns for air curing are usually large and depend on roof ventilators and hinged side-wall ventilators to provide air circulation. Those for flue curing are smaller, usually from 16 to 24 feet square and from 14 to 24 feet high. The tobacco is hung for curing on sticks laid across poles. The buildings must be tightly constructed, since the curing depends on maintaining relative humidities of from 75 to 80 per cent and temperatures of from ioo° to 1750 F. over a period of sixty to eighty hours.19 Heat is supplied through large metal flues which run horizontally near 'the floor and connect to a furnace burning wood, coal, or oil. Most of those burning coal are stoker-fired. Air inlets are located in the walls near the floor, and air outlets occur in the roof. Most of the buildings are of log or frame construction, although masonry and metal are being used to some extent. Fire-resistant materials for both the siding and the ceiling of the building are important, for losses from fire are high. In North Carolina alone in 1947 the loss in such buildings was estimated at $1,114,508. MACHINERY AND EQUIPMENT STORAGE

With the mechanization of the farm, the amount and kinds of machinery and equipment requiring protection have increased greatly. Sheds from 20 to 24 feet in width, with large doors sometimes opening on both sides, are frequently seen; in such a structure, individual pieces of equipment can be moved in or out without backing and turning them or shifting others. Another common type, one that is less likely to be damaged by wind, is wider and has a central driveway; here the implements are stored on both sides. Interior posts should be kept to a minimum in either type. A shop for the repair of machinery in inclement weather is desirable. It should have a door that will admit large pieces of equipment, and it should be fitted with a stove, a work bench, and the necessary tools for repair work. A power-operated drill press, grinders, and electric welding equipment are desirable. 1 9 E. G. Moss and N. C. Tiler, Bright Leaf Tobacco Curing, Bulletin No. 346, rev. (Raleigh: North Carolina Agricultural Experiment Station, June, 1946).

RURAL ARCHITECTURE AND FARM PLANNING LOOKING TO THE

257

FUTURE

Change has always come slowly in the country, but the isolation associated with life in rural areas is giving w a y before modern transportation and communication. N e w equipment and materials are also having their effect on rural ways of life, and the opportunity to develop a rural architecture expressive of the times is a challenge. T h a t the architectural patterns of the countryside as a whole will alter radically within the next generation is unlikely; the very nature of farming, both as a w a y of life and as a business, precludes such a possibility. T h e farmhouse is tied to the farm enterprise. Unlike the urban family that sells and moves when it outgrows or tires of its house, the farm family must stay on the farm. Few farmers are fortunate enough to be able to discard an unsatisfactory house that is fundamentally sound. Undoubtedly one of the most important aspects of providing better living will be the remodeling and modernizing of existing dwellings. A field as broad and important as this should command the attention and thinking of the architectural profession rather than be left to the farm family and the rural builder. It is certain that a really worth-while type of rural architect will emerge if those professions within whose spheres the field of rural housing lies will co-operate to this end.

SUGGESTED ADDITIONAL READING FOR CHAPTER 7

American Society of Agricultural Engineers, publications of the Midwest Farm Building Service (Ames: Iowa State College, 1937). Ashby, Wallace, Farmhouse Plans, Farmers' Bui. 1738, rev. (Washington: Dept. of Agriculture, 1935). Barre, H. J., and R. Hutcheson, Planning Your Farm Home, Agr. Ext. Bui. (Lafayette, Ind.: Purdue University, 1946). Barrows, E., Basic Ideas for Rural Homes, Ext. Cir. 137 (Logan: Utah State Agricultural College, 1945). Beresford, H., and others, Housing Farm Help, Ext. Bui. 156 (Moscow: Idaho Agricultural College, 1946). Britton, Virginia, Housing of 538 Vermont Farm Families, Agr. Col. Expt. Sta. Bui. 470 (Burlington: University of Vermont, 1941). Burroughs, Roy J., "Toward a Farm Housing Policy," Land Economics, Vol. 24, No. 1 (February, 1948), pp. 1-22. Carter, Deane G., Arkansas Farm Housing Conditions and Needs, Agr. Expt. Sta. Bui. 305 (Fayetteville: University of Arkansas, 1934).

258

BUILDINGS FOR RESIDENCE

Carter, Deane G., Arkansas Farmhouse Planning, Agr. Expt. Sta. Bui. 306 (Fayetteville: University of Arkansas, 1934). Investigations in Low-Cost Housing, Agr. Expt. Sta. Bui. 422 (Fayetteville: University of Arkansas, 1942). Study of Rural Housing, Agr. Expt. Sta. Bui. 364 (Fayetteville: University of Arkansas, 1938). and William A. Foster, Farm Buildings, 3rd ed. (New York: Wiley, 1941). Cowles, May L., Margaret W. Dickson, and Louise E. Wood, Rural Housing Improvement in Southern Wisconsin, Agr. Expt. Sta. Bui. (Madison: University of Wisconsin, 1947). Davies, V., Farm Housing Needs in Minnesota, Agr. Expt. Sta. Bui. 393 (St. Paul: University of Minnesota, 1947). Dodge, J. R., Farm Building Surveys in Wisconsin, Kansas, Georgia, and Illinois, Misc. Pub. 311 (Washington: Dept. of Agriculture, 1938). and M. J . LaRock, Temperatures and Related Conditions in Wisconsin Farmhouses, Tech. Bui. 1002 (Washington: Dept. of Agriculture, March, 1950). Farm and Village Housing, report for the President's Conference on Home Building and Home Ownership (Washington: National Capital Press, 1932). Fischer, Hazel H., compiler, The Farmhouse, Library List 19 (Washington: Dept. of Agriculture, 1945); also Supplement No. 1, compiled by Cora L. Feldkamp (Washington: Dept. of Agriculture, 1947). Fisher, H., and M. Whisnant, Rural House Planning; New Construction, Agr. Ext Cir. 313 (Auburn: Alabama Polytechnic Institute, 1945). Freeman, R. C., and I. Crouch, Past Experiences the Key to Future Planning; Eighteenth State Summary, 2)8 Farm Family Records, Agr. Col. Ext. HEEE 3409 (Urbana: University of Illinois, 1947). Garnett, W. E., J . A. McRath, and O. Long, The Housing of Virginia Rural Folk, Rural Sociol. Mimeo. Rep. 31 (Blacksburg: Virginia Agricultural Experiment Station, 1946). Gordon, P. E., Planning Your Farm House, Agr. Col. Ext. Misc. Pamphlet 94 (Raleigh: University of North Carolina, 1945). Gordy, J . F., Housing Farm Labor, Agr. Ext. Mimeo. Cir. 38 (Newark: University of Delaware, 1945). Hamlin, Talbot, "Farm Security Architecture," Pencil Points, Vol. 22, No. 11 (November, 1941), pp. 709-20. Harvard University, Lettauer Center of Public Administration, Rural Housing Conference at Harvard University, April ¡2-13, 1946 (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University, processed 1946). Hickman, C. W., Housing Farm Help, Agr. Col. Ext. Bui. 156 (Moscow: University of Idaho, 1946). Howe, O. W., Planning the Physical Layout of Farms, Agr. Expt. Sta. Bui. 350 (St. Paul: University of Minnesota, 1940).

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259

Hull, R. B., Platming and Planting the Indiana Farmstead, Agr. Ext. Bui. 178, 2nd reprint rev. (Lafayette, Ind.: Purdue University, 1944). La Rock, Max J., Planning Our Future Farmsteads, Agr. Col. Ext. Spec. Cir. (Madison: University of Wisconsin, processed 1945). Margaret P. McCordie, and Louise A. Young, When You Remodel Your Farm Home, Agr. Ext. Bui. (Madison: University of Wisconsin, 1947). Loper, R. M., Farm House Planning, Agr. Col. Ext. Cir. 714 (Lincoln: University of Nebraska, processed 1941). Principles Involved in Planning Nebraska Farmsteads, Agr. Col. Ext. Serv. Cir. 713 (Lincoln: University of Nebraska, processed 1941). McMillan, R. T., Farm Housing in Southern Oklahoma, Agr. Exp. Sta. Bui. B-290 (Stillwater: Oklahoma Agricultural and Mechanical College, 1945). Social Factors Related to Farm Housing in Southern Oklahoma, Agr. Exp. Sta. Tech. Bui. T-22 (Stillwater: Oklahoma Agricultural and Mechanical College, 1945). Miller, M. M., What Is a Good Farm House, Agr. Ext. Folder 134 (St. Paul: University of Minnesota, 1945). National Committee on Housing, Farm Housing; a Case Study, proceedings of the conference sponsored by the Committee for Kentucky in association with the University of Kentucky, Lexington, Ky., May 25-26, 1945 (New York: the Committee [1946]). Planning the Illinois Farmstead for Efficiency, Health, and Enjoyment, Agr. Col. Ext. Bui. (Urbana: University of Illinois, 1948). Pond, E., and S. A. Smith, Planning Your Home, Ext. Bui. 352 (Pullman: Washington State College, 1946). United States Department of Agriculture, Planning the Farmstead, Farmers' Bui. 1132 (Washington: Dept. of Agriculture, 1920). Publications Helpful in Building, Remodeling, and Repairing Farm Structures, and Related Subjects, Information Series 68 (Washington: Dept. of Agriculture, processed n.d.). Agricultural Research Administration, Your Farmhouse . . . ; Hon; to Plan Remodeling, Misc. Pub. 619 (Washington: Dept. of Agriculture, 1947). Bureau of Agricultural Engineering, Plans of Farm Buildings for Northeastern States, Misc. Pub. 278 (Washington: Dept. of Agriculture, 1937). Plans of Farm Buildings for Southern States, Misc. Pub. 360 (Washington: Dept. of Agriculture, 1940). Bureau of Home Economics, The Farm Housing Survey, Misc. Pub. 323 (Washington: Dept. of Agriculture [1939]). Vance, Rupert B., G. W. Blackwell, and H. C. McClain, New Farm Homes for Old; a Study of Rural Public Housing in the South (University: University of Alabama Press, 1946). When You Build or Remodel Your Farmhouse, North Central Regional Pub. 8, Agr. F.xt. Cir. 620 (Urbana: University of Illinois, 1948).

BUILDINGS FOR

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MEASUREMENTS

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BESCALE

AND

NOISE

INTENSITIES

From Noise Abatement Commission, Gty of New York, City Noise

1,000,000

10,000 1,000

10' = 10 x 10 10 --10 =10 0 --1 = THRESHOLD INTENSITY dividually, there would be a considerable increase in the noise level. On the other hand, if there were a thousand persons rattling their papers and then ten more joined them, rattling theirs, the increase in noise would not be noticeable. It develops that it is the percentage increase or ratio of the two intensities which is the important factor in measuring the change in sound or noise levels. The unit now universally used is the decibel, which indicates a definite proportion to some reference level. The table in Figure 169 will be of assistance in understanding the decibel concept. Here it will be noted that the decibels are measured from a zero level, which corresponds to the threshold intensity for minimum audibility of the average human ear in the absence of ambient noise. By means of delicate instruments the threshold sound intensity has been determined as 0.000 000 000 000 000 1 watts, or io" 16 watts of acoustic power flowing through 1 square centimeter of wave front. This reference level may also be expressed in terms of a sound pressure of 0.0002 dynes per square centimeter. The decibel units may be used with reference to any given intensity. When the reference intensity is io" 18 watts per square centimeter of air-borne sound intensity (threshold of audibility) the decibel values become the sound levels as indicated by the standard sound-level meters now available to the general public. If one sound is, say, 20 decibels above another, its intensity is one hundred times the intensity of the other.

ACOUSTICS NOISE L E V E L S OUT O F D O O R S S U R V E Y OF N E W Y O R K CITY NOISE A B A T E M E N T COMMISSION

öS Z _i

FEET

NOISE

FIGURE

SOURCES

NOISE

OTHER S U R V E Y S

uj

SOURCE OR DESCRIPTION OF N O I S E

DISTANCE FROM SOURCE

DUE TO V A R I O U S

*75

SOURCE OR D E S C R I P T I O N OF NOISE

SURVEY NO

OB 130 • T H R E S H O L D OF P A I N F U L S O U N D

H A M M E R B L O W S ON S T E E L P L A T E - S O U N D A L M O S T RAINFUL (INDOOR T E S T )

35 15-20

15-75 15-50

ELEVATED ELECTRIC TRAIN \

; 9 0 -• P N E U M A T I C D R I L L - 1 0 F T . •NOISIEST S P O T AT N I A G A R A /HEAVY T R A F F I C W I T H VERY H E A V Y STREET TRAFFIC! ' E L E V A T E D L I N E .CHICAGO WITH ELEVATED L I N E 1 80ON O P E N S T R U C T U R E

BUSY STREET TRAFFIC AVERAGE

15-50 15-500 50-500 50-500

/

AUTOMOBILE

*

ORDNARY C O N V E R S A T I O N - — RATHER Q U I E T R E S I D E N T I A L ! STREET, AFTERNOON 1 QUIET A U T O M O B I L E — MINIMUM N O I S E L E V E L S ON S T R E E T . IN ENTIRE CITY/ U N AVERAGE DAY TIME t MM. INSTANTANEOUS "

NIOHT'"

FALLS

VERY NOISY S T R E E T N Y O R CHICAGO

A V E R A G E MOTOR T R U C K

15-75 3

f AIRPL A N E l MOTOR 1 6 0 0 R P M I 118FT F R O M P R O P E L L E R ' AEROENGINE UNSILENCED-10 FT

DUE TO VARIOUS

From Noise Abatement Commission, City of N e w Y o r k , City Noise

5 4

100

RIVETER

15-50 15-300

110

OUT-OF-DOORS NOISE SOURCES

4

120 2

170. LEVELS

l-XSTANTANECWS

4 2 7 1

• 70-

60

• 50

/AVERAGE S H O P P I N G ST,CHICAGO IBUSY TRAFFIC.LONDON QUIET A U T O M O B I L E . L O N D O N QUIET S T B E H I N O R E G E N T S T , L O N D O N

6 4 4 4

'40-

30-

-20-

(QUIET S T . E V E N I N G . N O 1 SUBURBAN LONDON

TRAFFIC

QUIET GARDEN, LONDON AVERAGE WHISPER - 4 F T

QUIET W H I S P E R - 5 F T 10 • R U S T L E O F L E A V E S IN G E N T L E B R E E Z E 0 -

4 4 3 4 3

T H R E S H O L D OF H E A R I N G

In general, the number of decibels between t w o sounds is defined mathematically as ten times the common logarithm of the ratio of their intensities or power ratio: Number of decibels = 10 log 10 4 1

*2

where is the sound intensity of the first and /2 is that of the second. For example, if the sound intensity of the first is 1.0 microwatts per square centimeter and that of the second is o. j microwatts per square centimeter, the sound level of the first will be 3 decibels above the second, because the logarithm of ^— j

is 0.30 and ten times 0.30 is 3.0. On the sound-level scale of hearing

(Fig. 170) the 1 microwatt ( i o - 6 watts) per square centimeter would correspond to a level of 100 decibels and the 0.5 microwatts per square centimeter would be 97 decibels. Since the decibel is a relatively recent concept, a list of familiar noise levels

276

BUILDINGS FOR POPULAR NOISE LEVEL

FIGURE

GATHERINGS 1 7 1 . RANGES OF NOISE LEVELS

FOUND IN NEW YORK CITY

100

From Noise Abatement Commission, City of New York, City Noise

90 80 70 — NOISE IN NON-RESIDENTIAL BUILDINGS

60 50 40 30



20

10 0 is given in Figure 170. T h e general ranges in decibel levels are summarized graphically in Figure 171. N U I S A N C E V A L U E OF

NOISE

In general, any noise that interferes with the easy hearing of normal speech or conversation is a nuisance. T h e noises having the higher sound levels which approach the threshold of pain at 130 decibels are definitely dangerous. One of the curses of modern civilization is the objectionable noise from motor traffic, trains, car horns, pneumatic drills, building construction, factory machinery, and typewriters and tabulating machines. In addition to the possibility of progressive impairment in hearing, extreme noise levels will cause a strain on the nervous system as well as other physical disturbances, such as increased blood pressure, irregularities in heart rhythm, and heightened brain pressure. A state of irritability is almost always induced to some degree. NOISE REDUCTION AND ACOUSTICAL CORRECTION

Acoustic treatment directed toward noise reduction usually consists in providing adequate sound-absorbing surfaces in a room. Acoustical correction to enhance speech or music includes the proper designing of interiors with respect to their shape and size so as to eliminate echoes, sound foci, delayed reflections, and excessive reverberation. Many acoustical problems fall under the heading of noise reduction. Most offices, hospitals, restaurants, and the like present problems in reducing objectionable noise levels due to reverberation or pro-

ACOUSTICS

277

longed multiple reflections which pyramid in intensity from successive sound sources. In general it is sufficient to see that such rooms are quiet enough so that several people can talk in a normal, easy manner without any strain or interference from ambient noise. Since these rooms usually are conventionally rectangular in shape, they offer no special problem in design. By contrast, auditoriums, churches, and theaters present varied acoustical problems in which curved walls, arched ceilings, and re-entrant corners musr be considered. T h e acoustic treatment in such cases should be based on actual measurements if the building already exists. If a new building is being planned, the acoustical engineer must draw on his experience with similar structures in which he has conducted acoustical surveys before and after treatment. T R E A T M E N T S FOR SPEECH AND

MUSIC

When a room is to be used for both speech and music, the problem is more difficult because one type of treatment is best for speech and another is required for the optimal reception of music. Speech is best heard in a room with a short reverberation time, but music sounds best when the reverberation time is longer. This will be discussed in more detail later. People prefer their music to have fullness and richpess and to be well blended. In contrast, a speaking voice should be crisp, clean-cut, and differentiated. Therefore, in order to render both speech and music acceptable, a compromise or balance treatment must be effected. F O U R F A C T O R S IN A C O U S T I C A L

DESIGN

T h e four important factors which determine the acoustics of an enclosure are the shape of the room, the ambient-noise level, the loudness of the source, and the reverberation characteristic. Each of these factors will be discussed separately. ROOM SHAPE

In a conventionally rectangular room the exact shape is not of prime importance. On the other hand, the complicated shapes often found in churches, auditoriums, and theaters make considerable contributions to the quality of the acoustics. There are two kinds of shapes which should not be tolerated without a careful analysis: 1. A shape that produces a definite focusing effect at some point in the audience area; for example, a large dome

278

BUILDINGS FOR POPULAR G A T H E R I N G S

2. A shape that permits excessive time differences between the sound which reaches the audience by a direct path from the source and that which travels by one or more reflections from walls and ceilings The focusing effects of domes, concave walls, barrel ceilings, and the like result in a non-uniform distribution of sound intensity. One area will receive more sound at the expense of another area. The phenomenon of the "whispering gallery," where the dropping of a pin at one certain position in a large auditorium can be heard at another unique position, should be avoided. In fact, it can be stated with considerable confidence that, if the listening conditions at one position vary widely from those at another near by, the shape of the enclosure is incorrect acoustically. In structures already built, the acoustical engineer's sound-level meter can be used to indicate the sound distribution in a room. When the difference in length between two acoustic paths is greater than 65 feet, the auditor can sense an echo, and if the difference is just under 65 feet there will be a reinforcing and blurring effect. All reflecting surfaces should be arranged to provide uniform distribution of sound energy to all parts of the audience area. Auditoriums which are not too long in proportion to their width generally provide the best acoustics. NOISE LEVEL

The amount of background or ambient noise in an enclosure is a vital factor. N o one could possibly carry on a normal conversation in a boiler factory, and even a slight noise impairs the hearing of speech to some extent. Experiments show that received speech must be at least 30 to 40 decibels above the ambient noise level if the noise is not to produce harmful interference. Since the speech level ordinarily lies between 50 and 70 decibels, the noise level in an auditorium should be kept very low. LOUDNESS OF

SPEECH

There is an upper limit to the size of an auditorium in which unamplified speech can be heard satisfactorily. In a large room the sound energy is diluted to such an extent that important feeble components of speech become inaudible. The unvoiced consonants are especially difficult to preserve in the presence of ambient noise and reverberation. A t the listener's ears the optimal sound level of speech appears to be near 70 decibels. Normal speech levels in small and medium-sized auditoriums are 50 to 60 decibels, but in larger en-

ACOUSTICS

279

closures they are much less. Since undistorted speech at levels of between 50 and 100 decibels can be wholly satisfactory, it is obvious that amplification by public-address systems may be necessary where the noise level is above 40 decibels. REVERBERATION

The fourth factor in acoustical design is reverberation. Any sound originating in an enclosed space is reflected back and forth, from side to side, and up and down by the boundaries. If the boundaries are hard and non-porous, as much as 97 per cent of the incident sound may be reflected at each surface. The successive reflections produce a definite persistence of every discrete sound even after the sound has been stopped at its source. This prolongation of sound is known as reverberation; it is measured by the time in seconds required for the intensity of the sound (watts per square centimeter) to decay to onemillionth of its initial value. In other words, the reverberation period is the number of seconds required for a sound to decay 60 decibels. Although some reverberation may be desirable, it is safe to state that excessive reverberation is usually the most damaging and annoying defect to be found in the acoustics of an auditorium. Measurement of Reverberation. When a loud-speaker emits a test tone of steady strength in a room, the sound level will build up quickly until the power of the sound leaking out or being absorbed is equal to that of the sound delivered. If, after this equilibrium is established, the source of sound power is suddenly cut off at the loud-speaker, the sound level will decay at a rate depending on the amount of absorption or leakage existing in the particular room being tested.1 The number of seconds required for the sound level to drop 60 decibels below the original level is defined as the reverberation period for the particular test tone employed. For example, if by means of a test tone an equilibrium is established at the 95-decibel sound-intensity level and if it then drops to the 35-decibel level in 2.1 seconds—as indicated, for example, by a high-speed level recorder—the reverberation period for that room is 2.1 seconds by actual measurement. The simple relation between the time for sound to decay, the size of the room, and the amount of absorption was first enunciated by Professor Wallace 1 In the case of reverberant sound, the intensity is assumed to be almost the same in every part of an enclosure at any instant. Of course, the inverse-square law applies to any particular ray of sound, but all the rays are so intermingled in direction and individual intensities that only the average or net effects are recognized bv the ear.

28O

BUILDINGS FOR POPULAR

GATHERINGS

Clement Sabine at Harvard University in 1910, as the result of an extended experimental investigation which he described in a paper two years later. He demonstrated that, for a room of a given size, the number of seconds in which the intensity of a sound, when cut off at its source, decayed to onemillionth of its original value was inversely proportional to the number of square feet of sound-absorbing units present. One sound-absorbing unit, or sabine, is defined as 1 square foot of open window acting as a soundabsorbing area with 100 per cent efficiency. Professor Sabine also showed that the reverberation time was directly proportional to the number of cubic feet of volume when the number of sabines was the same. These two variations may be combined in a single equation: 1

~

A

'

in which T = time (seconds) for the sound level to decay 60 decibels; V = volume (cubic feet) of enclosure; and A = absorption units (sabines) equivalent to the open window area in square feet. W h e n sound is radiated in a "live" room the reverberant-sound intensity will build up to a higher level than it will in a "dead," or non-reverberant, room. For the usual conditions the relationship between sound intensity and reverberation can be simplified as follows: / = —t - (approximately) -j'2 '2 For example, if the reverberation period of a room is reduced one-half, the reverberant-sound intensity will be one-half of its original value. This corresponds to a reduction of 3 decibels in the reverberant-sound intensity level when expressed by the decibel scale. A more exact equation, which was derived years later by Eyring and others, must necessarily be used when the reverberation period is less than 1 second, as is often the case in sound studios and the like, where very efficient absorbing materials are used. Mayer and Knudsen observed and reported that sound absorption by humid air (with a relative humidity greater than 10 per cent) was less than that by dry air for frequencies above the mid-frequency of 1,000 cycles per second. Consequently a further refinement of the reverberation formula has been stated by V . O. Knudsen as a result of the effect of humidity in the air for the upper half of the audible-frequency spectrum, or: _ -Q49^ T 0 a + 4»*F

ACOUSTICS

281 FIGURE

005

172.

V A L U E OF 004 2 FACTOR, z

003

i £ o o

002

° Ui

It AFTER

KNUDSEN

001 1,000

2,000

3,000 CYCLES

4,000 PER

5,000

6,000

8,000

.000 10,000

SECOND

where a = units of absorption (sabines), and m = constant depending on relative humidity as shown in Figure 172. The term 4mV in the new formula represents the equivalent number of absorption units contributed by the air itself as the sound is propagated through it between reflections. It is obvious, then, that dry air ordinarily absorbs more sound energy than moist air does for frequencies above 1,000 cycles per second. This fact has an important implication in the design of large auditoriums, where the average distance between reflections (mean free path) is large. The annoyance caused by excessive reverberation can be reduced by increasing the height of a live room even though the reverberation period for frequencies at 512 cycles per second is not changed appreciably. For example, if the ceiling is raised to twice the height the volume V and the absorption a will each be doubled approximately for the middle-range frequencies. However, the air absorption 4mV will be doubled for the higher-frequency components only. Assuming a to be a small value for a live room, the denominator a + 47nV of the above formula will be almost doubled and will thus contribute considerable relief from the reverberation of high-pitched components. Reverberation Period for Different Frequencies. The reverberation period should be known for at least half a dozen frequencies at various points in the entire speech and music range—for example, say, those at 125, 250, 500, 1,000, 2,000, and 4,000 cycles per second. It often happens that a room with satisfactory reverberation periods for frequencies at 500, 1,000, and even 2,000 cycles per second will have too long a period for those at 250 and 125 cycles per second. The prolongation of deep-tone components will then mask the higher-tone components of complex sounds. In general, the reverberation

282

BUILDINGS FOR POPULAR G A T H E R I N G S FIGURE 1 7 3 . REDUCTION OF NOISE LEVEL WITH INCREASE IN ABSORPTION

tz os

period should not vary excessively over the entire range for either speech or music. ACOUSTICAL SOUND ABSORPTION T H E BASIC

MATERIALS

FACTOR

Absorption Coefficients. It is convenient and necessary to have a standard of acoustical merit for acoustic materials. The coefficient of sound absorption has been established to indicate the fractional portion of incident-sound power which is absorbed at a single reflection. If the reverberation periods of a room are determined before and after a .given number of square feet of acoustic material have been installed, the effective absorption coefficients of the material can be calculated. Conversely, if the coefficients of the material to be installed are known, the change in reverberation period can be calculated. For many acoustic materials on the market, tables giving the absorption coefficients for the most important frequencies are available. Since the coefficients vary widely for the different materials, careful selection is necessary to obtain desirable reverberation periods in a particular enclosure. Each room requires a certain number of units of sound absorption, depending on whether an optimal condition is required for speech, music, or general noise reduction. This limits the choice of absorbents to those having coefficients within a certain range. (See Fig. 173.) Porosity for Sound Absorption. Acoustical materials available today make use of one or more principles of sound absorption. The most common is absorption by porosity. In general a coarse-grained material must be thicker than a fine-grained material to have the same absorptive power. At low

ACOUSTICS

283

frequencies the sound absorption is greater for larger pores if the proportion of the perforated area to the unperforated is the same. If the absorbing material is too thin the sound will travel through it, strike the hard wall behind, reflect back through the material, and mingle with the reflected portion of the incident sound at the front surface. Interference effects can be utilized at certain frequencies to enhance the absorption, especially when an air space is provided behind the acoustical material. Flexural Vibrations. Sound energy can be absorbed by the vibration of a flexible material such as a fiber board mounted over an air space. Even though the diaphragm may be critically damped, it will vibrate when the sound strikes and, in yielding, it absorbs sound energy because of its bending friction. Low-frequency sounds in particular can be absorbed by such flexural vibrations, provided sufficient air space is supplied behind the panels. If the air space is too limited, the cavity stiffness may restrict the vibration and consequently reduce the absorption over a particular frequency range. M A I N T E N A N C E AND OTHER

FACTORS

Normally the requirements of any particular room limit the choice of acoustic material to those with coefficients within a certain range. A s a rule, however, there are a number which will give approximately the absorption desired. T h e choice then must be made on the basis of cost and various other factors, including maintenance, structural strength, durability, decorative possibilities, adaptability to the surfaces available for acoustic treatment, light reflection, sanitation, ease and security of installation, fire hazard, absorption of water, and attraction for vermin. Proper maintenance is one of the chief problems after the acoustic material has been installed. In time the surface will become darkened and soiled. This condition reduces the reflection of light and detracts from the general appearance of the room. Cleaning must then be attempted or, in extreme instances, the stained surfaces must be painted—in which case the utmost caution should be observed. Dusting. Loose dirt can usually be removed by brushing, by wiping with a soft cloth, or by the use of a vacuum cleaner. T h e brush-equipped nozzle of the vacuum cleaner should be moved in the direction of the grain of the surface. Washing. If the material can be washed—this can be determined by experiment with a sample—it is usually best to use warm water and a mild soap. Enough soap should be dissolved in the water to make a thick lather, and

284

BUILDINGS FOR POPULAR G A T H E R I N G S

then, with a large sponge but without any appreciable rubbing, only the suds should be applied. The suds should straightway be removed with the moist sponge after it has been squeezed out in clean water, and the rinsing water must be changed frequently to be effective. The surface should then be dried with a clean cloth or chamois. Sanding. In the case of some acoustic materials the discolored face may be sanded off. Sanding, however, usually loosens surface fibers, which may then fluff off. This condition, sometimes called "ceiling dandruff," is particularly annoying in restaurants. It can usually be avoided by running a powerful vacuum cleaner over the surfaces after the sanding operation. Painting. Often the acoustic surfaces must be painted. Painting is one of the most serious problems in acoustical maintenance. As previously indicated, many materials absorb sound through their pores. An oil-base paint is almost certain to close the pores and thus destroy the acoustical efficiency of the material; but stains, dyes, or water-base acoustic paints can be used with a minimum loss in efficiency. Tests on a variety of materials have shown that some of them can be brush-painted once or twice with an interior flat paint without a noticeable decrease in their sound-absorption power and that others can be painted many times. If the paint is applied thin enough to prevent a film from forming across the pores, the amount of pigment deposited on the surface will determine the decrease in absorption. A spray gun may be used to good advantage with thin paint, but in this case several coats may be necessary. Acoustic tests should always be made to determine the decrease in sound absorption which will be produced by any proposed decorative process. Some acoustic tiles have factory-made holes or random openings extending through the surface. These tiles may be brush-painted without the danger of bridging the holes with a film of paint. COMMON M E A N S OF SOUND ABSORPTION

Acoustic Plaster. Acoustic plasters are widely used where continuous surfaces are desired. Such plasters usually consist of a porous sound-absorbing aggregate of pumice or slag held together with a binder of magnesite, cement, gypsum, or lime. Greater porosity is sometimes obtained by the use of an unusually small amount of binder, but this reduces the tensile strength of the material. The structural bond will not be satisfactory unless the tensile strength of the plaster is greater than 50 pounds per square inch. The manner in which the plaster is applied and finished will also greatly

ACOUSTICS

FIGURE

285

1 7 4 . TRANSMISSION LOSS THROUGH RIGID WALLS

affect its sound-absorption power. Most plasters depend on a great degree of suction from the scratch or brown coat—a suction which, fortunately, tends to prevent the formation of a non-porous film on the finished surface. Rigid specifications to this effect should be enforced, and acoustic tests should be made to insure full acoustical efficiency. The ability to withstand wear and abrasion is another important characteristic to be kept in mind. If an acoustic plaster in spite of its low tensile strength must be used on walls, a wainscot of wood or hard plaster can be applied to a height of from 4 to 6 feet from the floor. Acoustic Tile. Acoustic tiles are less susceptible than plaster to the variations ordinarily due to installation. Their acoustical efficiency will run uniform if they are produced by a competent manufacturer on a production scale. Occasional sound-absorption tests should be made, however, as insurance against the effects of possible changes in the raw materials used and of variations in factory methods of fabrication. SOUND

INSULATION

High noise levels due to transmission from sources outside a room can be reduced most effectively by sound insulation. It is also true that the introduction of sound-absorbing materials will cause the general sound intensity of the noise already in the room to be reduced in proportion to the percentage increase of absorption, as indicated in Figure 173. If a room has a certain number of sound-absorption units a0, the general noise level will be reduced a — 2), but to obtain a reduction of 3 decibels if the absorption a is doubled (— a o

286

BUILDINGS FOR POPULAR

GATHERINGS -Rough and Finished Flooring ~Wood Nailing Strip« "Concrete Slab v * 4 F i b r e Board >nd Plaster

'/»"Steel Channel« — % "Plaster Gypsum : T. L. » 3 4 db Lime: T. L. —40 db

T. L.—49 db

\Z

Gypsum Scratch Coat " L i m e Brown and Finish - W o o d Lath

3 Hollow Clay Tile

"—^"platter x

T.L.-40d6

2 x 4"Wood Stud« T. L. » 4 4 db

T. 1 . - 5 7 db

"

^ x R o u g h and Finished Flooring -Wood Nailing Strips ~4"HOIIOW Clay Tile Fibre Board and Plaster

T. L. » 6 0 db

Floated Rough and Finished • H o l l o » Clay Til« I x 2 Furring Strip« ' P a p e r and Metal Lath

1 ^ 2 « 4 Wood Stud« ^ » - S h e e t Metal —3 Coat Gypsum

T. L. » 5 3 db

" Gypsum Plaster T. L. = 5 2 db

- 4 Hollow Clay Tile x 2 Furring Strip« •Si"Fibre Board -Gypsum Plaster T. L. » 5 4 db

Flooring

l E r

- H " Plaster

2 x 4 Wood Stud« 1 Fibre Board, Joints Filled Coat Gypsum

r Rough and Finished Flooring ^Absorptive Blanket •"-Plaster on Wood Lath T. L . > 5 0 d 6

Rough and Finished Flooring - H Fibre Board

- Absorptive Blanket

T. L . > 50 db 2 Layers % Mutex with Sheet of 28 Gauge

f § — 4"Brick —

5¿'Plaster

. Iron between —3

Masonry

Plaster T. L. » 4 7 db

Acous. Corp. of America Double Masonry Wall T. L . > 6 0 db

FIGURE

Good Insulation for Foot Falls, etc.

T. L. - 4 9 db

Concrete Slab Hung Ceiling

-Plaster on Fibre Board T. L . = 4 0 d 6

Plaster on Wood Lath

T. L. » 4 5 db

-Staggered Wood Studs -3 Solid Gypsum Tile

2 x lOWood Joists

T. L . > 5 5 db

Flexible and Absorptive Material Resilient Chair - Concrete Slab --- ~ Resilient Hanger Plaster end Lath T . L . = - 6 0 d 6 u . S. Gypsum and Johns-Manville System

1 7 5 . PLAN AND SECTIONAL SKETCHES OF W A L L , FLOOR, AND CEILING

PARTITIONS HAVING A HIGH DEGREE OF SOUND INSULATION From Knudsen, Architectural

Acoustics

10 decibels the absorption must be increased to ten times its original value (

a

- = i o ) .

0

It is apparent that acoustical treatment is effective in reducing the general noise level only in live rooms. In dead, or non-reverberant, rooms this method is not usually sufficient. W h e n the noise originates outside the room a more effective reduction may be accomplished by increasing the sound-transmission loss through the boundaries of the room. T h e transmission loss from one side of a wall to the other is expressed in decibels. Figure 174 indicates the transmission loss in decibels for rigid walls which are essentially solid.

ACOUSTICS DB

DB

90

90

r-J

/ ZD



Ul _l « 6

65

— —-

/

& S? 4

+10

+J

—i

H

Same with rockwool fill Bare concrete Asphalt tile %2*

+7.. 0

+ 10 0 —i

+ >5 0

+ 11 0

+6 0

+J 0

—»

A B

-6

Rubber tile Heavy carpet (no pad)

0 —i

—2

C D

+3 +2 —i 0

"J ~7 -6

~7

"J ~7 -6

A B C

Floor Bare concrete Asphalt tile Rubber tile

D

Heavy carpet (no pad)

E

¥ie" linoleum on felt

F

wood floor on i " x j " sleepers

G H

G E

cork tile

cork tile 9ie" linoleum on felt

FIGURE

-1-7 1

4-4-7

-7-0

—i —2 "J -3

o

-J

J" o

4 ~9

-9

1 7 7 . I M P A C T NOISE LEVELS FOR VARIOUS T Y P E S OF FLOOR

0 -8 —8 —

i —8 — 12

ACOUSTICS

289

for the bare concrete floor and 53 for the carpet covering—a total reduction of 24 decibels. Other types of floor are capable of reductions in a similar manner, as shown in Figure 177, in which the bare concrete floor is used as the point of reference. It will be noted in the tabulation that the low-frequency components are not reduced appreciably by the mere use of floor coverings; for this more elaborate constructions are required. Resilient chairs under the floor sleepers, for example, will result in a greater reduction. Another system, which the writer designed and followed through in an eighty-apartment building project, consists of a special ceiling (hung on absorbing pads) in the rooms below. In this instance no changes in the floors were necessary and the net cost was fairly reasonable. The sound-transmission losses for floor constructions given in Figure 174 refer only to air-borne sound and should not be confused with impact sounds on the floor itself. No direct correlation between the two exists, and the condition in the case of impact noises can be established for particular situations only by actual tests. The staggered-joist floor-ceiling construction (Fig. 175) is an excellent solution for the impact-sound problem in new buildings. ACOUSTIC T R E A T M E N T FOR S M A L L

ENCLOSURES

Offices. It is common practice to cover the entire ceiling of offices with an efficient sound-absorbing material. This method is especially recommended for general quieting. If numerous typewriters or calculating machines are to be used, treatment of the side walls as well as the ceiling will be necessary. After treatment the reverberation period will usually be less than one second, but this is not so important as the reductions in noise level. If measured with a soundlevel meter, sometimes called a noise meter, the noise level will probably be from 6 to 10 decibels lower after treatment. After an 8-decibel reduction the average person not acquainted with noise measurements in decibels will judge that the original loudness has been decreased by one-half—a decrease which will be genuinely appreciated. It should be emphasized here, however, that these are measurements of general background- or ambient-noise levels and not of the level of sound as directly radiated from its source. For example, the sound coming from a single typewriter stroke will arrive directly in a straight line to the listener's ear and will then be followed by a series of reflections

290

BUILDINGS FOR POPULAR GATHERINGS

from the walk, ceiling, floor, table top, and other reflecting surfaces in the room. Obviously the acoustic treatment of the ceiling and side walls will not reduce the first sound coming directly to the listener's ear. Nevertheless, in a small room the successive reflections arrive so closely behind the original sound that the ear cannot separate them and interprets the whole as the loudness of the typewriter. Both the smallness of the room and the propensity of the human ear tend to integrate the acoustic components which arrive within .06 second of each other. By the conventional ceiling treatment, office noises from the outside may be reduced 4 to 7 decibels, depending on the type of disturbance. Even if a high-pitched noise—such as that from roller-skating on the sidewalk below— comes in through open windows, such a ceiling treatment will be effective not only because of the absorption of the directly radiated noise when it first strikes the ceiling but also because of the general reverberation reduction. A much greater noise reduction, say 10 to 20 decibels, may be effected by closing the windows tightly with stripping on all edges and providing some other means of ventilation. If window-ventilating fans or air conditioners are selected for this purpose, they should be measured for their capacity to reduce the noise transmitted along the air stream and also for the amount of noise contributed by the motor and fan of the units themselves. In Residences, Apartment Houses, and Hotels. The most important acoustical problem in the design of residences is the sound insulation between rooms and particularly between apartments. Reduction of sound between adjacent live rooms can be increased 6 to 12 decibels by the installation of efficient acoustical material on all ceilings with a height of 8 or 9 feet. A connecting door, when closed, may cause the sound level to be increased by 15 to 20 decibels, as compared with the level which would be established if the common wall were continuous. In hotel rooms with connecting doors, privacy is almost never possible with single loose-fitted doors. Effective insulation may be obtained by having two separate doors mounted on the two sides of the door frame, provided resilient stripping is used to seal all four edges of each door when closed. In School Buildings. The importance of good acoustics in schoolrooms and school auditoriums should be considered as at least on a par with that of good illumination, heating, ventilation, and sanitation. The essential function of the school is instruction and study. Although some visual instruction is given, almost always it is accompanied by speaking and listening on the part of both

ACOUSTICS

291

the instructors and the students. It is a well-established fact that poor discipline or bad behavior invariably develops when hearing is difficult. In noisy or reverberant rooms the teacher cannot hold the attention of students very long without tremendous effort, which is exhausting to her and to the class. School gymnasiums, in particular, are always too reverberant for satisfactory instruction unless adequate acoustical absorption is provided. In a classroom with windows open on a busy street, it is the usual thing during a warm day for a class to cease functioning entirely while a trolley car or truck passes. T h e school building should therefore, first of all, be located in a quiet neighborhood. In the selection of a site for a new building, actual noise measurements should be made to determine how much sound insulation must be written into the specifications. For example, if the ambient noise of the neighborhood reaches levels of 65 decibels for considerable periods of time, the sound insulation of the new building must provide 40 decibels of reduction to hold the ambient noise in the classrooms, not including noises originating within the building itself, to a maximum level of 25 decibels. The arrangement of the rooms, the corridors, and the auditorium is very important. The auditorium should be protected from all sources of noise; frequently a central position in the plan will insure adequate reduction of street noises. The classrooms may be arranged around the auditorium if sufficient corridors, acoustically treated, intervene to reduce the air-borne transmission. If the common error of locating ventilating fans and pumps directly under the auditorium is made, the resulting noise level in the auditorium may rise to 40 or 50 decibels when the machinery is in operation. The isolation of machinery and the sound insulation necessary to reduce this noise level 20 to 25 decibels are usually more expensive than locating the machinery at a remote point. FOR AUDITORIUMS

Whether an auditorium is a success or failure functionally depends largely on its acoustics. As previously indicated, the reverberation must not be excessive and preferably it should be balanced with respect to the frequency. The accompanying chart, Figure 178, may serve as a guide in determining the amount of acoustical absorption desirable at various frequencies for auditoriums of various sizes. For example, a high-school auditorium with a volume of 100,000 cubic feet should have a reverberation period of 1.41 seconds for a frequency of 1,000 to 2,500 cycles per second; 1.55 seconds for one of 500;

BUILDINGS FOR POPULAR

GATHERINGS FIGURE

178.

REVERBERATION

PERIODS

FOR VARIOUS V O L U M E S

DESIRABLE

REVERBERATION

AUDITORIUMS AND

MUSIC

PERIODS

ROOMS —'/2

FOR

TO '/3

AUDIENCE

1.95 seconds for one of 200; and 2.4 seconds for a frequency of 100 cycles per second. T h e optimum reverberation periods for other volumes may be read from the graph in a similar manner. It must be understood that these values are not specific; they may vary 10 per cent either way. Recommended reverberation periods for studios designed for recording and broadcasting are given in Figure 179. The larger volumes represent the large motion-picture sets and the broadcasting and telecasting studios with large audiences. N o graph is shown for frequencies above 2,500 cycles per second because of the effect of humidity, as discussed earlier in connection with the reverberation formula. Actual surveys reveal that almost invariably the reverberation periods at frequencies above 2,500 cycles per second are equal to or less than those below that frequency. In fact, auditoriums rarely need any additional absorption at frequencies above 4,000 cycles per second on account of the absorption by the air itself.

ACOUSTICS ,000,000

E

0

Jt Tt Y

800 000 500,000 400,000

»93 FIGURE 179. REVERBERATION PERIODS FOR RECORDING OR BROADCAST STUDIOS

100,000 80,000

tUi 60,000 £ 50,000 0 m 40,000 g 30,000 Iu

1 à

10,000

8,000 6,000

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.7

.8

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5,000 4,000 3,000

1.8 2Û 2.2

2.6

DESIRABLE REVERBERATION PERIODS FOR RECORDING AND BROADCASTING STUDIOS

It is of equal importance that the noise level be kept as low as possible. Ventilating systems are the most common sources of noise in auditoriums. This type of noise is essentially low in pitch and may not be readily sensed uniess the observer is experienced in noise surveys. Nevertheless, a speaker's intelligibility falls off as the ambient-noise level rises above 15 decibels as read by the acoustical engineer's noise meter. If the ambient-noise level in the auditorium is 50 decibels, it follows that the loss in hearing will be 35 decibels because of auditory masking. In other words, if speech is barely audible when no noise is present, it must be raised 35 decibels higher in intensity to be heard in the presence of a 50-decibel noise. Such a condition is intolerable, but it is not infrequently the most important factor contributing to the poor acoustics of an otherwise good auditorium. T h e shape of an auditorium is not critical so long as large concave surfaces, excessively high ceilings, and coupled live volumes are avoided. It should be

294

BUILDINGS FOR POPULAR GATHERINGS FIGURE

180.

PROPOSED LITTLE THEATER







D

FOR

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I

SHUTTER-—I

T A

COLLEGE, OBERLIN,

T R A P S

S

OBERLIN,

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Shreve, Lamb & Harmon, architects

E

An architectural plan carefully studied for acoustic qualities.

FLOOR

CEILING

stated here, however, that concave surfaces, open grille work, perforated boards, or light-weight membranes may be employed if, by actual test, the sound is transmitted through the perforated surface without appreciable re-

ACOUSTICS

»95 FIGURE

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SECTIONS Shreve, Lamb & Harmon, architects Small amounts of an absorptive acoustic material are used to diminish reverberation to the desired level.

SECTION

duction. (The actual surface behind an apparently concave surface, of course, must be flat or convex to be acceptable.) A skillful designer may use many such methods of employing forms and surfaces that are acceptable acoustically (Figs. 180, 1 8 1 ) . It is not advisable that the length of the auditorium be greater than twice the width or four times the height. With respect to excessively high ceilings, if they cannot be avoided they must be rendered inactive acoustically by efficient sound-absorption treatment. The most comfortable sound level for listening is about 70 decibels at the listeners' ears. In auditoriums where adequate amplification systems are employed, a compromise level ranging from 65 to 80 decibels can usually be presented to all parts of the audience area. The ambient-noise level must never be greater than 40 decibels, and it should be less than 20 decibels where no electrical amplification is available.

296

BUILDINGS FOR POPULAR GATHERINGS SUGGESTED ADDITIONAL READING FOR CHAPTER

8

Fleming, Norman, and William A. Allen, Modern Theory and Practice in Building Acoustics, Structural Paper 12 (London: Institution Civil Engineers, 1945). Fletcher, Harvey, Speech and Hearing (New York: Van Nostrand [ 1929]). Houghten, Mattie L., Bibliography of Noise Measurements, PB 1754, Technical Research Series 37 (Washington: Naval Research and Standards Branch, 1945). Knudsen, Vern O., Architectural Acoustics (New York: Wilev, 1932). Morse, Philip M., Vibration and Sound (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1936). New York (City) Noise Abatement Commission, City Noise ( [New York: | the Commission, Department of Health, City of New York, 1930). Olson, Harry F., Elements of Acoustical Engineering (New York: Van Nostrand, 1947)Radio Corporation of America, Architects3 Manual of Engineered Sound Systems (Camden, N.J.: the Corporation [1947]). Rettinger, Michael, Applied Architectural Acoustics (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1932). Sabine, Paul E., Acoustics and Architecture (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1932). Sabine, Wallace G , Collected Papers on Acoustics (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1922). Watson, Floyd Rowe, Acoustics of Buildings (New York: Wiley, 1923). Wood, Albert B., A Textbook of Sound (New York: Macmillan, 1941). Wood, Alexander, Acoustics (New York: Interscience, 1941). ANNUALS AND PERIODICALS

Acoustical Materials Association, Official Bulletin (Chicago: the Association, 1940-47). Aigner, F., and M. J . O. Strutt, "On a Physiological Effect of Several Sources of Sound on the Ear and Its Consequences in Architectural Acoustics," Journal of the Acoustical Society of America (J.A.S.A.), Vol. 6, No. 3 (January, 1935), PP- « 55-59Beranek, L. L., "Sound Absorption in Rectangular Ducts," J.A.S.A., Vol. 12, No. 2 (October, 1940), pp. 228-31. Berrien, F. K., and C. W- Young, "Effect of Acoustical Treatment in Industrial Areas," J.AJS.A., Vol. 18, No. 2 (October, 1946), pp. 453-57. Bolt, Richard H., "Frequency Distribution of Eigentones in a Three-Dimensional Continuum," J.A.S.A., Vol. 10, No. 3 (January, 1939), pp. 228-34. "Control of Sound in Buildings," with Bibliography, Architectural Record, Vol. 87, No. I (January, 1940), pp. 67-73. Eyring, Carl F., "Reverberation Time of Coupled Spaces," J.A.S.A., Vol. 3, No. 2 (October, i93i),pp. 181-206.

ACOUSTICS

»97

Fleming, Norman, "Soundproofing," Mechanical World, Vol. 119 (1946), May 10, p. 519. Ham, Lloyd B., and John S. Parkinson, "Loudness and Intensity Relations," J~AS.A., Vol. 3, N o . 4 (April, 1932), pp. 511-34. Harrison, Donald D., "Planning against Noise," Pencil Points, VoL 25 (1944), January, pp. 43-50. Hunt, F. V., L. L. Beranek, and D. Y. Maa, "Analysis of Sound Decay in Rectangular Rooms," J.AS.A., Vol. 11, N o . 1 (July, 1939), pp. 80-94. Illinois Institute of Technology, "Soundproofing with Plastics," Modern Plastics, Vol. 23, No. i i (July, 1946), p. 125. Knudsen, Vern O., " T h e Effect of Humidity upon the Absorption of Sound in a Room, and a Determination of the Coefficient of Absorption of Sound in Air," J.A.S.A., Vol. 3, No. 1 (July, 1 9 3 1 ) , pp. 126-38. "Recent Progress in Acoustics," Journal of the Society of Motion Picture Engineers, Vol. 29, N o . 3 (September, 1937), pp. 233-47. Lindahl, Robert, and Hale J . Sabine, "Measurement of Impact Sound Transmission through Floors," J.A.S.A., Vol. 11, No. 4 (April, 1940), pp. 4 0 1 - 5 . MacNair, Walter A., "Optimum Reverberation Time for Auditoriums," J.A.S.A., Vol. 1, No. 2 (January, 1930), pp. 242-48. Maxfield, J . P., and W . J . Albersheim, "An Acoustic Constant of Enclosed Spaces Correlatable with Their Apparent Liveness," J.A.S.A.,

Vol. 19, N o . 1 (January,

'947)- PP- 7'~79Mital, Karmajir, "Noise and Its Insulation in Buildings," Science and Culture, Vol. 12, No. 3 (September, 1946), pp. 1 4 1 - 4 4 . Morrical, Keron C., "Irregular Room Surfaces iq Studios," Communications, Vol. 26, No. 4 (April, 1946), pp. 35-36. "Sound Insulation," Architectural Record, Vol. 87, No. 1 (January, 1940), pp. 7 2 - 7 3 . Power, J . R., "Measurement of Absorption in Rooms with Sound Absorbing Ceiling," J.A.S.A., Vol. 10, No. 2 (October, 1938), pp. 9 8 - 1 0 1 . Ramer, L. G., " T h e Absorption of Strips, Effects of Width and Locations," J.A.S.A., Vol. 12, N o . 3 (January, 1 9 4 1 ) , pp. 323-26. Rees, Willis M., "Forms, Properties, and Functions of Fibrous Glass, Acoustical Materials," Communications, Vol. 26, No. 1 (January, 1946), pp. 36-38. Sabine, Paul E., " T h e Sonic Environment," Architectural Record, Vol. 87, No. 1 (January, 1940), pp. 68-71. Smith, M. A., "Principles of Noise Reduction in Offices and Factories," Engineering News-Record, Vol. 137, No. 20 (November 14, 1946), pp. 643-45. Suharevsky, G . M., " O n the Maximum Possible Re-enforcing of Sound under Outdoor Conditions and in an Enclosure," Wireless Engineer, Vol. 23, No. 273 (June, 1946), pp. 4 - 1 0 7 . Volkman, John E., "Polycylindrical Diffusers in Room Acoustic Design," J.A.S.A., Vol. 13, No. 3 (January, 1942), pp. 234-43.

9 Catholic Churches By M A U R I C E

LAVANOUX

W

ORDS have a way of getting out of hand and in their present-day connotations sometimes tend to become confusing. In painting and sculpture and, to a lesser degree, in architecture, we are aware of the controversy which rages between the exponents of "ancient" and "modern" art. In the secular field this controversy has perhaps abated. It is no longer difficult for an architect to shed the trappings of the past when he designs a bank or an office building; here reasons of economy and changes in building methods have led to a more sensible point of view, and the influence of a frozen traditionalism is fast losing ground. This welcome attitude, however, has not yet become general among the practitioners who plan our churches; in this field sentimentalism and a benighted adherence to past standards are still prevalent. Nevertheless, if we calmly give the matter thought it will be realized that this controversy, artificially fed by our prejudices, has no real basis, for the past is continued in the present and tradition is dynamic. The design of Catholic churches during past decades has suffered from an overdose of what might be called archaeologism, due in great part to a sentimental interpretation of history. Times have changed, and we are beginning to see not only the end of this shackling bond but also the dawn of a period of intelligent and sensible creativeness. Progress is not easy and there are two pitfalls: on the one hand the continued opposition of die-hards and of the laissez-faire school of thought, and on the other the overzealous efforts of those who might be tempted to jettison all continuing tradition. One of the many misconceptions which still prevail in church planning arises from the fact that some designers are too intent on furthering their own professional prestige and are not enough concerned with the basic problem confronting them which they are supposed to solve for the benefit of their clients and parishioners. This misconception, combined with others,

CATHOLIC CHURCHES

299

j I

FIGURE AFTER

182.

CHURCH OF ST.

z x —

FRANCIS OF ASSISI, PORTLAND, OREGON.

PLAN

ALTERATION

Note the location of the choir behind the sanctuary and also the position of the Chapel of the Blessed Sacrament. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society FIGURE

183.

P L A N PROPOSED TO E M P H A S I Z E THE CELEBRATION OF T H E EUCHARIST Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society

3 oo

BUILDINGS FOR POPULAR

GATHERINGS FIGURE

184.

PROPOSED CATHEDRAL

PLAN

PROVIDING FOR LARGE OUTDOOR CONGREGATIONS

Barry Byrne, architect Small or large, the building must emphasize the celebration of the Mass; in this case additional outdoor space permits a large congregation, to accommodate, for instance, a Eucharistic Congress. Courtesy Liturgical Arts Society

results in what might be termed the straight-jacket school of designers—those who start out with a preconceived notion of what they think should be the "style" and plan of their creation. In too many cases, of course, the client is equally at fault, for through his insistence on a still-born copy of a past example he gives the architect no freedom at all. The designers, once this attitude is firmly established, trot out all the shibboleths and all the books and engage in an orgy of archaeologism. Then it suddenly occurs to them that it might be well to think of the primary functions for which the church was planned—the celebration of the Mass and the proper and adequate carrying out of the ceremonies. Disregard of these primary functions has resulted in the planning of churches in which the celebration of the Mass and the dignified unfolding of the ceremonies can be achieved only with discomfort for all and little concern for the parishioners' welfare.

CATHOLIC CHURCHES

301

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PLANS FOR TYPICAL OFFICE SPACE AND FILE ROOMS

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900

G O V E R N M E N T BUILDINGS FIGURE 6 0 9 . SUGGESTED PLANS FOR THE INTERIOR OF A VAULT

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economical in time consumed to have more vertical than horizontal circulation. The larger the executive office building, the greater and more practical is the necessity of turning to height for ease of circulation. SERVICE

ELEMENTS

Service facilities for government office buildings include coatrooms, toilet and rest rooms, locker rooms, and the like. These should be grouped together and conveniently located on each floor, but they should be planned in such a way that the public as well as the employees may use the toilet rooms—except, of course, in special cases. For the executives, provision should be made for individual toilets and coat closets directly adjoining their offices. Janitors' quarters and rooms for the personnel who take care of the cleaning and maintenance of the building should also be provided. S I T E AND I N T E G R A T E D

PLANNING

The site for a government building should, if possible, be selected so as to be the focal point in its particular locaiity. Such an outstanding location

G O V E R N M E N T A L OFFICE B U I L D I N G S

901

as a high point of ground should always be sought so that commanding views may be obtained and the building may dominate the city; here also an expression of communal purpose and a sense of dignity may easily be achieved. In a locality that has a waterfront it is highly desirable to take advantage of this feature; placing a government building or group of buildings on such a site lends an inspirational effect. Another excellent location is the terminus of an important vista. It should be remembered that any government office building, because it is a public structure, should always contribute to the beauty of the city. The site should be generous in proportion to the building and thus provide for effective landscaped areas, not only for the use of the public at large but also in order to supply parks and open spaces for the employees during lunch hours. In many instances in the past, this consideration has been sadly neglected. Often refreshing notes—such as pools, fountains, or water displays— could be incorporated as sources of civic beauty. Integrated general planning for a well-conceived and workable schedule of public buildings, be they Federal, state, or municipal, not only is desirable but also is a practical and economic necessity. This advanced over-all planning for the future should establish the general pattern to be used in a group of public structures. In many cases, however, the need for individual buildings arises separately and public officials put off the preparation of an over-all plan. Such delay has often resulted in the planning of one building at a time, as the demand arose, with little or no regard either for the greater economy of working to a general plan or for the proper arrangement of government buildings in the city picture. A requirement which is becoming increasingly important is parking space for employees and the public. Whenever possible, the parking space should be provided on the site and in such a way that it will do the least damage to the appearance of the surroundings. T o accomplish this cars may be parked under an arrangement of trees or in an area screened off with trees, hedges, and shrubbery; it is also possible to combine both schemes. For large buildings or groups of buildings it may be necessary to furnish underground parking or separate garages for this purpose. (See Fig. 601.) It is often advisable to group the government office buildings with other public structures to form a civic center. This plan makes it possible to introduce a plaza or mall around which the buildings may be arranged; the open area can be treated with parks and gardens and have all vehicular traffic

902

G O V E R N M E N T BUILDINGS

FIGURE 6 l O . CAPITOL PARK, HARRISBURG, PENNSYLVANIA. BIRD's-EYE VIEW William Gehron, architect A well-studied general plan has permitted the development of a coherent and harmonious group. Courtesy William Gehron

routed around the outside. Such general planning will result in a greater contribution to civic art and, in the long run, in greater economy and efficiency. Since such a general plan is intended to establish the over-all pattern of the needs for many years to come, it should not only fulfill the practical requirements but also determine in advance the general architectural characteristics of the group and its entourage. The importance of this phase of planning cannot be overemphasized. In the preparation of any general plan, the architect and the public officials must bear in mind that the economic factors must be thoroughly analyzed, for it is possible to plan too big or too small. In the early history of both city and group planning, there were instances in which the plans were either too ambitious or did not properly fit the existing conditions; invariably they fell by the wayside. Although we architects may wish to adopt Daniel Burnham's motto—make big plans, not small ones—it is advisable to face the facts and be reasonable in our conceptions; we must realize that there are economic limitations which must be considered. The Pennsylvania state capitol group at Harrisburg, already referred to, is an example of group planning for state executive office buildings; it was developed in 1920 by Arnold W. Brunner, with whom the author of this chapter was associated at the time (Fig. 610). The Commonwealth of Penn-

G O V E R N M E N T A L OFFICE BUILDINGS

903

sylvania purchased forty acres of land at the rear of the capitol, which was built in 1906; on this plot was developed a co-ordinated plan, with four additional buildings grouped around the forecourt—the People's Court—and the Mall. T h e Mall ft connected with the eastern end of the city by the Soldiers and Sailors Memorial Bridge. T h e exact functioning of only one of the proposed buildings was determined at the time the general plan was made; later the other three buildings and the bridge as now constructed were designed b y the present author. T h e advantages of a general over-all plan can easily be understood when one considers the frequent changes of administration, the political influence inevitable with expenditures of that magnitude, and the length of time normally required to finance and complete such a group. Today, nearly thirty years after the general plan was adopted, the last phase—the forecourt, terraces, and an underground garage—is in the planning stage. A s a practical illustration of the tremendous expansion of government functions in recent times, it may be well to point out that when the original Pennsylvania capitol was built, in 1906, it was expected that it would be large enough to house all the executive offices of the Commonwealth indefinitely. T h e 1920 plan envisaged a great expansion of not only the immediate but also the future needs in order that the group might be adequate for at least fifty years. Nevertheless, in spite of this expanded development, the Commonwealth has recently authorized the purchase of thirty-four additional acres of land, which will extend Capitol Park to the north and provide sites for six new state buildings. These will consist of a labor and industry building (which will also house the unemployment insurance and social security activities), two new state office buildings, a William Penn Memorial Museum and archives building, a utility building, and a state garage building for maintenance of state and employees' cars (Fig. 601). There is also provision for parking approximately 1,300 employees' cars under the new landscaped mall between the present and proposed buildings; in the new area as a whole, plans have been completed for the parking of some 3,500 automobiles. AESTHETIC

CONSIDERATIONS

Nowhere is there a greater opportunity to let the public see and feel the importance of the government of which it is an integral part than in the buildings which house the working components of that government. Nowhere is there a greater opportunity to foster interest in a government than through

G O V E R N M E N T BUILDINGS

FIGURE 6 1 I . CIVIC C E N T E R , DETROIT, MICHIGAN. PHOTOGRAPH OF

Saarinen, Swanson & Saarinen, architects A modem study for the civic center of a large city.

MODEL

Photograph Hedrich-Blessing

its office buildings, and nowhere is there a greater opportunity to lift up the ideals of a government than in such buildings. If an executive office building achieves less than this, the designer has failed miserably in the task set before him when he acceptcd the directorship of the project. Ideally, then, the architectural design attained in the project should be a combination of utility secured through good space allocation, of stability gained throughout the entire project by well-proportioned, orderly, and dignified design, and, finally, of beauty, that particular essence of excellence which causes pleasure of mind and spirit. The first of these, utility, requires, among other things, a thorough study of the fenestration so as not only to satisfy the interior needs but also to produce an exterior that is pleasing. Our modern approach to daylighting presents to the modern architect one of his most difficult problems. The fenestration should be expressive of the interior arrangement, and the architect should make every attempt to assemble the units in such a way that the exterior of the building is a complete and true picture which has rhythm and well-studied proportion. The second element, stability (or authority), refers not merely to good foundations and sound construction; in such a building it should also represent the soundness, permanence, and dignity of the government. A public building requires an outward manifestation of power as wel! as cf solidity. This

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FIGURE 6 1 2 . PROPOSED STATE OFFICE BUILDING, MONTGOMERY, ALABAMA. PERSPECTIVE Clyde C. Pearson, Farrow L. Tittle, Chris J . Sherlock, and Moreland Griffith Smith, architects; Ed ward D. Stone, consultant Well-proportioned, orderly, and dignified design that is thoroughly expressive of the twentieth ccntury. Photograph Scott, DeMotte & Perry

sense of stability is elusive, but it can be expressed and is often achieved in the best government buildings. For the expression of authority we might cite such a simple device as the cupola, for instance that on the capitol at Williamsburg, Virginia. Among others is the portico, an example of which may be seen at the main entrance of Queens Borough Hall, New York City (Fig. 604). This building was designed essentially as a utilitarian structure, but the strength and the monumental character of the three-story portico which serves as a protection to the main entrance give the whole a definite sense of stability and dignity. Government buildings are usually intended to last for many years. If they reach their proper perfection in construction as well as in design, many of them naturally become monuments representing their time and are preserved as such by future generations. For this reason the materials and methods of construction used in such buildings should be only those which are lasting. Thus an expression of permanence is assured and, in addition, greater economy is effected in the end through low maintenance costs. The third element, beauty, also an elusive quality, is often achieved by means of a true sense of order and proportion in all the related parts of a building—a sense that is inherent in anything which possesses beauty. If the spaces within government office buildings can be made both interesting and instructive, the citizen who comes there to transact business or

G O V E R N M E N T BUILDINGS FIGURE 6 1 3 . EDUCATION BUILDING, HARRISBURG, PENNSYLVANIA. DETAIL OF FORUM Willkm Gchron, architect Mural painting depicting the history of culture gives meaning to this interior. Courtesy William Gehron

to visit will have a sympathetic approach to the government's problems. T o cite only one example, very few people are familiar with the intricacies of the water, gas, and electric supplies. If maps and illustrations acquainting the public with some of the factors involved were made an integral part of the design of the department, the practical features of these utilities would be more fully appreciated by the public at large. Such useful and decorative elements incorporated in the design would also help the officials and the employees in their understanding of the work they are doing and might easily result in their taking a more personal and active interest in their work and in their government. These features could also become true works of art. Such forms of expres-

G O V E R N M E N T A L OFFICE BUILDINGS

907

sion—or visual education, as it is called today—have been neglected in architecture. During the Second World War, however, graphic illustrations were greatly developed and extensively used in aiding the construction of airplanes, tanks, and other complicated machines. If the idea were applied in governmental buildings, the public could be brought to have a better understanding and appreciation of the workings of its government and the beauty and interest of the building might be increased. The forum, or auditorium, in the Education Building of the Harrisburg state capitol group in Pennsylvania demonstrates a practical adaptation of this principle of educating the people through the medium of their public buildings. On the rear walls of the semicircular forum is an outline history of the world in chronological tables. The maps flanking these tables supplement the information and trace the movements of the various civilizations over the earth. The ceiling painting shows the heavens of the northern hemisphere. In the center of the ceiling is a sunburst decorated with a design indicating in conventional diagrammatic form the Ptolemaic, Copernican, and Keplerian solar systems (Fig. 613). It may also be the government's function to collect, preserve, and make available to the public its historic heritage. This can be done by means of legends, folklore, and historic facts and events. There is scarcely a town, city, or state which does not have some interesting and instructive story that can be used as a source for government-building decoration and will at the same time further the education of the masses. In some civilizations, such as the Egyptian, Greek, and Roman, the government was one of the most important patrons of the arts; later the church assumed that role. Under such sponsorship the development of art was great. Today, because of the wide range of the functions and controls which our modern government exerts, it is logical and natural that the Federal, state, and municipal governments should play leading parts in forwarding this movement. During the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries there was a tendency to embellish buildings with costly and meaningless ornament borrowed from other periods. This tendency has now been halted, and the use of creative painting and sculpture is being stressed; such works of art are educational and functional as well as beautiful, and they may serve as a storytelling, symbolizing, and inspiring force. Many Federal buildings were erected in the United States during the i93o's, and at that time a rule was established which allotted approximately 2 per

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cent of the cost of construction for the incorporation of works in the allied arts. In general in all executive office buildings an effort should now be made to incorporate—along with good craftsmanship—sculpture and painting as essential architectural elements. Since the arts reflect their time—political, economic, and social—the government should not ignore the possibility, through its buildings, of furthering the cause of art and widening the artistic environment of the people. N o other organization exists in established society which can supply more of an incentive to promote this development than the government; by reason of the number of its members, its financial position, and its power in the life of today it has an unrivaled opportunity. The buildings which house its workers should exemplify this.

SUGGESTED ADDITIONAL READING FOR CHAPTER 25

Ahlberg, Hakon, Swedish Architecture of the Twentieth Century (London: Benn, 1925), especially the section dealing with Ragnar Ostberg. "Civic Buildings," a Building Types Study, Architectural Record, Vol. 89 (1941), March. "Civic Center at Walthamstow," Architectural Review (London), Vol. 94 (1943), October. Hegemann, Werner, and Elbert Peets, The American Vitruvius; an Architect's Handbook of Civic Art (New York: Architectural Book Pub. Co., 1922), especially Chaps. 3 and 6. "Office Buildings," a Building Types Study, Architectural Record, Vol. 102 (1947), October. Short, C W., and R. Stanley-Brown, Public Buildings . . . Public Works Administration (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1939).

26 Post Offices and Customs Houses By G I L B E R T S T A N L E Y

UNDERWOOD

A N Y M O D E R N government has many other functions besides those L l carried on in capitols, city halls, courthouses, and office buildings. / \ Indeed, two of its most important activities—the efficient distribution of mail and the systematic regulation, and sometimes the taxation, of international trade—are among those which most directly affect great numbers of citizens. T o handle these, special building types naturally have been developed. The first is the post office, which in this mechanized era has reached a high level of efficient organization. In the second, usually called the customs house, all sorts of related activities take place in addition to those inherent in the collection of import and export duties. Immigration offices might also be included in this second class, but they are so decentralized—located as they are in all ports of entry—and are so frequently combined with railway, steamship, or airline stations that only in a few cases have they required special buildings. Furthermore, the legal curb on wholesale immigration has altered the function of the few immigration buildings to such an extent that any detailed discussion of their program would be futile. Post offices and customs houses, however, remain structures of the greatest contemporary significance.

POST OFFICES When you affix a stamp to a letter and drop it into the corner post box or through the drop at a post office, you are waving a wand of sheerest magic. At once a gigantic machine goes to work for you. In the United States the history of the Post Office Department is built of drama, of determination, of man's instinctive desire to communicate with man. Benjamin Franklin and William Hunter were appointed Deputy Postmasters of the American colonies in 1753; from that time on, a country-wide postal

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FIGURE 6 1 4 . POST OFFICE, RAMPART, ALASKA. EXTERIOR Courtesy United States Post Office Department

system was a reality. When in 1775 the Continental Congress appointed Franklin chief of the new nation's postal system he became the first head of the United States postal service. In 1789 the year's receipts were only $25,000. As the country has grown in area and wealth, the growth of the system has been tremendous. A reduction of rates in 1845 and the introduction of postage stamps in 1847 both aided this growth, as did the system of registry introduced in 1855 and the other great services—parcel post, postal savings, and so on —which came later. Increases in the functions, responsibilities, and business of the Department have continued, until in 1949, for example, the gross income amounted to nearly one and three quarters billion dollars. The postal system in the United States now serves as a bank (money orders and postal savings), a forwarding company (parcel post), an insurance company (insured mail), as well as a post office proper. Its extraordinary success has arisen largely from the true and intense loyalty of its personnel, and its achievements are a tribute to the national character and persistence. Today it may truly be said, as it was said long ago of the ancient couriers of Persia, "Neither rain nor snow nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds." CLASSIFICATIONS

Post offices are divided generally into four classes, according to their yearly gross income: first class, $40,000 and over; second class, $8,000 to $40,000; third class, $1,500 to $8,000; and fourth class, below $1,500. The class designation of any given office does not ncccssarilv control its size, for some small

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FIGURE 6 l 6 . O N E - M A N - T Y P E POST OFFICE. PERSPECTIVE Gilbert Stanley Underwood, supervising architect Courtesy United States Post Officc Department

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FIGURE 6 * 7 . M U L T I P L E - T Y P E POST OFFICE. PLAN

Gilbert Stanley Underwood, supervising architect Courtesy United States Post Office Department

offices with small staffs may in certain areas do a large volume of business. Under another set of classifications in use they fall into three categories: the one-man type, where the money-order and registry section adjoins the postmaster's office; the multiple type, where that section is separated from the postmaster's office; and a third type further divided according to function into three groups—the postal station (a substation of a larger office situated within the same corporate limits), the branch post office (attached to a central main office but situated outside the corporate limits of the town), and the parcel-post annex (usually a separate building devoted chiefly to that type of mail). Many annexes, however, have a small retail post-office lobby to handle general local service, and often they have rail connections within the building.

P O S T OFFICES A N D C U S T O M S H O U S E S

FIGURE 6 1 8 . SKETCH OF MULTIPLE-TYPE POST OFFICE Gilbert Stanley Underwood, supervising architect Courtesy United States Post Office Department SITE PLANNING

Maximum utility and economy must control the location of the building on the site. Automobile and truck circulation will require safe and easy approach from thoroughfares and equally safe and easy departure; this consideration will frequently necessitate separate entrances and exits. There must be a clear maneuvering width of at least S5'~°" between mailing platform and lot line, or even more if highway post offices or trailer trucks are to use the area. All truck pickups and deliveries are across a mailing platform, and a marquee projecting 6'-o" in front of and at least i 3 ' - o " above its apron is necessary to give protection against inclement weather. The mailing platform will handle trucks 9'-o" on centers, and its length should be designed accordingly. Some large post offices and parcel-post annexes may have mailing platforms several hundred feet long; in addition, direct railroad-track platforms may have to be furnished. Some of the recent buildings allow for helicopter mail delivery as well and provide landing space either on the building or on adjacent ground. Frequently mailing platforms will be required on two or more levels, in which case ramps will be necessary. There should be some parking space available for the postmaster, the higher-ranking personnel, and occasionally for Secret Service and FBI cars. Pedestrian circulation also must be carefully studied for convenience and directness. Crossing of traffic streams must be held to a minimum, and the public entrances should be on the side of the building that faces the area from which the most people come. In many largri'post offices two or more entrances to the lobby are required; they may be placed at opposite ends. Any setback

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from the street line will increase the walking distance, but often this is required to ensure natural daylight. In any case a flag pole near the main entrance is obligatory. Outside steps, however few, are omitted when possible; if necessary they are put inside the building, where they can be more easily cleaned.

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FIGURE Ó 2 I . OLD POST OFFICE AND COURTHOUSE, LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA. EXTERIOR James Knox Taylor, supervising architect Courtesy United States Post Office Department

Town-planning and local-improvement schemes should be adhered to as far as possible, for the post office should be an asset to its locality. Landscaping should always be simple, harmonious with the building, and adjusted to the climate, and all planting should be chosen for long life and easy maintenance. GENERAL

PLAN

The general plan of almost all post offices follows a nearly standard arrangement based on the functions performed. Post-office lobbies will usually run across the main front of the building, except where unusual sites suggest or require a lobby along the side. Ppst-office lobbies may be entered through entrance vestibules or through public lobbies that lead to other parts of. the building. Separating the post-office lobby from the work area is the screenline through which most of the public business is transacted. Usually the far side of this work area will open directly upon the mailing platform, but the exact position of the latter will be determined by the site conditions. In many large buildings the work area may be on two or more floors, with adequate vertical circulation between them, and the mailing platform and the trucking area also may be distributed among several levels; in some congested areas the entire ground floor may be devoted to mailing platforms. The latter arrangement will necessitate an upper-floor post-office lobby, preferably approached by escalators. Yet the basic plan will not change—a central workroom, with a post-office lobby in front and a mailing platform at the rear. The number of individual offices required is relatively small; they may be placed wherever convenience of approach and efficiency of service require, without disturbing the main elements. In many cities the post office itself is

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but one section of a large Federal building which houses offices unrelated to the mail and sometimes even courtrooms. In such cases the architect must take special pains to keep the approaches to the various parts separate so that there will be no confusion. Flexibility in planning is important. Since conditions change and equipment is constantly being improved, there must be provision for instant and inexpensive replacement or relocation of equipment; consequently a most flexible arrangement of light and power circuits and outlets is necessary. Essentially a post office is a shelter for a complicated process—a two-way flow of mail matter, through various sorting and classifying operations, to and from the public. In addition the post office performs certain subsidiary banking functions which require facilities that must be efficiently and conveniently arranged. T o produce the most satisfactory design the architect must understand the whole procedure and plan accordingly. PUBLIC AREAS AND SCREEN

The public area of a post office will range from the little corner of a sod hut on some outlying frontier to the marble-and-bronze lobby of a big city building, but certain requirements will always be present. These are, briefly: ease of access; good ventilation; easy approach to post-office boxes; bulletin boards; desks equipped with ink, pens, money-order blanks, and waste baskets; and windows opening to the work area. Good ventilation is complicated by the fact that when the exterior doors are opened and air pressure in the warm lobby is lowered a strong current of air flows from the work area. If this flow is through the screenline windows alone, drafts are created, which cause frequent colds among the employees. To avoid this condition not only double doors and large vestibules at lobby entrances are required but also ventilating openings in the screenline above the window level, which will prevent drafts through the windows. In many post offices, the lock boxes are placed in a separate portion of the lobby, which is divided off by a glass partition and by double doors that should be at least 5'-^" wide; this part has its own outside entrance. By such an arrangement the lock-box lobby acts as a vestibule to the rest of the lobby, and ventilation from the work area may be arranged chiefly in this section. In all public lobbies bulletin and directory boards must be placed where the public may see them easily. The bulletin-board area as usually provided is rarely sufficient; it must be large enough to accommodate the flood of an-

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nouncements and posters which pour out of Washington—"man wanted" fliers, recruiting and bond posters, and so on. In addition, a special bulletin board for Civil Service announcements is required. Lobby desks if possible should be wall-hung in order to facilitate cleaning, and the walk behind them must be hard, smooth, and washable. In a lobby with screenlines on both sides, freestanding central desks are necessary. Lobby lighting should be economical, functional, and adequate. Outside windows for daylighting should be ample; artificial lighting should, as far as possible, be built in as an integral part of the design and should always be arranged for ease of maintenance and relamping. T h e best windows are those which are most easily cleaned, preferably from the inside. Double-hung windows have been proved safe and foolproof; but windows of the projecting awning type, operated by worm gears, have also been found satisfactory. T h e designer should not hesitate, however, to use a well-lighted and well-ventilated interior lobby if this permits the most economical plan. Lobby width will vary, according to usage, from n'-o" to 3o'-o", but the architect must remember that economy is essential and that the government cannot afford to build on the basis of rare, peak, Christmas-time congestion. Lobbies are frequently in one strip; the larger post offices may have a central spine with crossing lobbies. L-shaped, U-shaped, and E-shaped lobbies are also fairly common. The length of the lobby will depend on the number of screenline windows necessary to take care of the service. These windows should be carefully grouped according to their type—retail and wholesale stamps, parcel post, and so on. Mail drops, also grouped, should be placed where they will be most convenient to the patrons, usually close to the retail-stamp windows. In large post offices the "banking" windows—money orders, postal finance, and postal savings—are often located in a separate lobby. In this case the screen, the special working area, and the lobby may be treated together as an architectural unit. The screen should be a continuous wall from floor to ceiling, pierced only for windows and ventilators. Columns in the screen should be avoided if possible, and on the workroom side they should never be closer to it than 6'-o". The screenline windows must be arranged in accordance with the specific business transacted by each post office; for instance, in some offices an enormous postal-savings business must be provided for. T h e design of screenline windows has been standardized on 6'-o" multiples if there are no

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918

columns to be considered, or on 6'-o" multiples between columns. As noted later, the government supplies the standard counters and equipment. WORK

AREAS

Mail flows into the workroom from two sources: the screenline and the mailing platform. Mail that passes through the screenline—letters, postcards, parcelpost packages, newspapers, and miscellaneous "retail" items—moves into a workroom on the same floor or, in the larger post offices, on an upper floor. The transportation of this matter from the screenline windows and from the drops is either by hand or by hand trucks, conveyor belts, gravity chutes, or other mail-handling equipment. From the mailing platform, mail matter flows in from both post-office and private trucks, for many big concerns bring their outgoing mail directly to the platform. Thus the mail from both screenline and mailing platform is processed in the general workroom—or in several workrooms, the number and area of which are determined by the mail load. In some large post offices, entire floors are devoted to parcel-post processing alone. In the small oneman type, all of the processing is done on one floor in one workroom. Usually city carriers are located on the main floor, since the bulk of their operations consists of first-class mail; this arrangement of the processing permits the fastest delivery of mail to the customer. All work areas must be surrounded by lookouts, which will be described later. In the workroom the mail goes through a number of separations, determined

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by its character; (or instance, in a branch post office that is affiliated with a major post office in a neighboring city the mail is often tied in packages without cancellation and sent to the main post office for processing. This may happen sometimes in postal stations also. The complexities of separation are too great to describe here. The workroom which most nearly approaches a square is the most efficient; its size depends on the furniture, the numbers employed, and the functions performed. There are rules of thumb used by the Post Office Department, but the proper area to fit a specific neighborhood can be determined only by making a layout of the furniture and the circulation areas. Ideally the workroom should have the screenline on one side and the mailing platform on the opposite side. The two free sides should be as nearly solid with glass as the architect can make them, the glass starting from 4'-6" above the floor and extending almost to the ceiling. Gear ceiling heights here may not be less than n ' - o " . It is obvious that the columns in a workroom where there is constant crossing of traffic should be as few as possible. It is often desirable in the smaller workrooms to make the spans clear and thus eliminate all columns. Workroom windows must be made reasonably secure against depredation by using interior wire-mesh grilles on those near the ground. In some cases glass brick with steel strip joints or some other satisfactory material may be used. If the windows are exposed to brilliant sunlight, Venetian blinds should be supplied; glass brick should always be of the diffusing type. Where the workroom is on a single floor, monitor-type skylights—usually of fixed security sash and diffusing glass—with fans in them to draw the air through the workroom windows and out through the monitor are desirable. For this, 30-inch fans are employed, and enough of them to make an air change every six minutes. In the larger buildings there are washed-air ventilating systems and frequently refrigerated air conditioning. In workrooms of large area it may be necessary to use sawtooth skylights repeated in every bay. If there is neither a ventilating nor an air-conditioning system, fans should be installed in the ends of these sawtooth skylights, as in the monitors. All the fans should be equipped with electrically operated louvers that will close when the fans are turned off. There is a growing tendency, with the development of fluorescent lighting, to eliminate skylighting entirely. The ideal electrical lighting of a workroom is by fluorescent lights in continuous strips to give a uniform illumination of 25 foot-candles at the task

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BUILDINGS

level; this is a minimum and might well be increased. The tubes should be shielded by egg-crate louvers, and the light should be allowed to come directly down from the fixture. In some workrooms trouffers set flush with the ceiling and equipped with egg-crate louvers, hinged for easy cleaning and relamping, have been used. In both the design and the selection of any fixture for the workroom, maintenance cost and high efficiency must be kept in mind. Workrooms are floored with %e" battleship-gray linoleum. Tests over a ten-year period have indicated that linoleum wears better and is more comfortable than wood. Wood blocks have not been satisfactory; they expand too easily and may buckle. The walls and columns are wainscoted 4'-6" high with tempered hardboard and steel corner angles. If radiators are exposed they must be protected by strong metal guards to prevent damage from trucks. The walls should be painted a light warm gray. The furniture required in a workroom has been standardized by the Po6t Office Department. It includes facing and dumping tables, manual or electric cancellation machines, letter-sorting cases, bag racks, hand trucks, canvas hampers, rest bars (a device or support against which the postal clerks may lean back while standing), slip cases, and so on. Among other items are safes, steel shelving, cases, stamp racks, and other equipment that is placed within the Cages or enclosed spaces. Somewhere in the workroom at a place readily visible to all employees there should be one or more 6'-o" x 4'-o" tack boards of cork for notices, bulletins, and so on. There must be drinking fountains—on a central system if the building is big enough—and emergency first-aid cases and fire-fighting equipment must be mounted at strategic places. Every workroom must have one or more clocks of sufficient diameter to be easily read. Mail operations are worked on minute intervals, and the clocks must be visible to every worker on the floor to enable him to meet tight time schedules. The standard handbooks of the Supervising Architect's Office give full information about visual distances and the sizes and locations of clocks. The government, under term contract, supplies standard post-office counters, windows, signs, and so forth. These are all located on 6'-o" centers. The counters have hard plastic tops; the cases underneath are built of furniture steel. Against the screenline on the workroom side, in large post offices, are cages which enclose the different sections—for money orders, postal savings, regis-

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try, and stamps (both retail and wholesale)—as well as other special areas. These wire-mesh enclosures are necessary to segregate the various operations and to give added protection. In a one-man post office only the section handling money orders, postal savings, and registry is enclosed. Often within a section enclosure there will be wire-screen separators between adjoining window positions. These are j'-o" high and extend back from the counter about 2'-8". Thus each clerk is protected from the clerks at -the adjoining windows. The lookouts are continuous galleries, completely dark inside and equipped with staggered observation ports that are covered with one-way glass. Because of the complete darkness inside, inspectors on duty have a clear view of all the personnel and the operations in the workroom. The lookouts also cover the "swing room" and the men's toilets, stairways, and so forth. The construction must be substantial to prevent any indication to the worker on the workroom floor that the lookout is in use. The floor finish is cork to absorb the noise of footfalls. Adequate artificial lighting should be provided for cleaning, and there should be electric convenience outlets for vacuum cleaners and the like on about 3o'-o" or 4o'-o" centers. Many of the separation cases, where the mail is sorted, are run normal to the outside light; hence the lookout should run parallel to the outside light or normal to the cases so that no blind spots are created. The lookout cannot be intelligently planned until a layout of the separation cases and other equipment is made. The floor type is raised 2 ' - o " above the floor of the room which it overlooks; the clear space under the hanging type must be not less than 8'-o". A turret-type lookout, used in one-man post offices where the workroom ceiling height prevents use of a hanging-type gallery, allows observation from one position. Its floor is 5 ' - 6 " above the observed floor. All types must have 6'-6" headroom, free of beams, ducts, or pipes below this minimum height. Mail-handling equipment is used to lift and lower the mail matter from various floor levels. In some operations, however, it is preferable to use elevators for this purpose. These should be large enough to receive two hand trucks of mail and two operators. Gravity chutes are often the most efficient means of lowering mail; helicopter mail that lands on a roof may have to drop to several different levels, and gravity chutes are necessary to deliver it to the proper floor. In parcel-post annexes the mechanical equipment is extremely involved. If railroad sidings are run into the building, the parcel-post matter must be

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unloaded from the cars and carried on continuous moving belts to various transfer points. A t those points the matter is again separated and continues on to its final processing. One of the important elements in all the types of parcel-post buildings is the spread table. This is a plane which rises in a sloping position from a point about 2 ' - 6 " above the floor to a point close to the ceiling. Parcel-post packages are carried by conveyors to the top of this sloping plane, dropped off, and allowed to slide by gravity down to the clerks at the bottom of the spread table. Here the packages are separated and pouched. Fireproof vaults must be provided at various places on the workroom floor. In addition to the one required by the assistant postmaster, such vaults are necessary for the money-order, postal-savings, and registry sections. Whenever in a large post office it is not feasible to locate these vaults near enough to be of instant service, special safes are located on the workroom floor within the cages. When a clerk goes off duty, or "swings," he locks his cash drawer in a vault or in a safe on the workroom floor near his working position. The several sizes of standard vaults are all set forth in the official design handbooks. OFFICE AREAS

In the smaller post offices the only office is that of the postmaster, and this is approached directly from the lobby. In large buildings, offices with public approach must be furnished for the postmaster, the assistant postmaster, and the superintendent of mails. T h e assistant postmaster must have a separate room adjoining the postmaster's office, and in some cases where there is a great deal of public business a public space between the offices of the postmaster and the assistant postmaster is desirable. If there is no postal-finance section in the post office, there must be a vault in the office of the assistant postmaster, since in such cases he is chief custodian of the post-office securities and "sells," or issues, stamps and securities to the clerks. The office of the superintendent of mails should adjoin the other two offices, and, because he is the overseer of the work area, it should command the workroom on one side, preferably through a glass partition to give visual control. If the building is a division headquarters for post-office inspectors, there must be offices for the inspector in charge and for his assistants, with a public approach to these offices. Cells for holding suspects, showers for the use of inspectors after lookout patrol, a darkroom for photographic work, and a fingerprint room are all necessary. No rule can be given for the size of the various offices; this will depend on

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the functions performed, the amount and placing of furniture, and the number of people who will use them. PERSONNEL AREAS

When a postal worker leaves his station in the post office at the close of his regular shift, he is "on swing." He is not allowed to spend his swing on the workroom floor or at his regular station; therefore, in addition to toilet rooms, provision must be made for swing rooms for both male and female employees. In the larger post offices a locker room may separate the swing room and the toilet room. Where there are twenty-four employees or less to use a swing room, the lockers are placed in the room itself, where an allowance of 15 square feet is made for each employee. When the number of employees per room exceeds twenty-four, an allowance of 9 square feet is made for each employee in the swing room, with a minimum of 125 square feet for five or less employees, and 6 square feet for each employee in the locker room. Lockers must be furnished for all regular employees and for substitutes. The Post Office Department does not regularly provide restaurant or cafeteria facilities in its post-office buildings. Occasionally a postal association supplies the equipment and operates a cafeteria or lunchroom. When space is available, practice rooms for postal bands and orchestras may be included. In any large post office the top officials will have an outer reception room, often a private office for the secretary, and private toilet rooms and closets. MAINTENANCE

In the entire design, the matter of operation and maintenance cannot be too strdngly emphasized. Both plan and materials must be designed for the maximum in savings after the building is built and is operating. It is the public's money that pays for this maintenance and operation—and for mistakes in planning and design. CUSTOMS HOUSES AND APPRAISERS STORES BUILDINGS The United States Customs Service, founded under the First Federal Tariff Act of July 4, 1789, came into being almost at the birth of the nation and has been one of the most important economic earners in the Federal government. The customs practice did not originate here, however; there are

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FIGURE 6 2 3 . NEW YORK CUSTOMS HOUSE. MAIN-FLOOR PLAN Cass Gilbert, architect; James Knox Taylor, supervising architect Courtesy United States Treasury Department

references to import duties mentioned as early as those in the Old Testament. Stripped to its simplest terms a customs house is an office building in which are housed the personnel and facilities both for collecting customs duties on imports and for administering and enforcing the numerous tariff acts with respect to entry and clearance of ships, aircraft, and vehicles from foreign countries. The appraisers stores building is an adjunct to the customs house; to it is delivered all imported merchandise—or. representative samples—for classification and appraisal preliminary to the determination of the customs duty. In size, United States customs houses vary from a single room in a border

POST OFFICES A N D CUSTOMS HOUSES

FIGURE 6 2 4 . NEW YORK CUSTOMS HOUSE. EXTERIOR Cass Gilbert, architect; James Knox Taylor, supervising architect Courtesy United States Treasury Department

station to the tower that is the Boston Customs House or the columned and entablatured grandeur (no longer favored by government architects) of the N e w York Customs House. Aside from volume, the basic functional requirements are the same in the single room, the classic temple, or even the sleek modern buildings. In the larger jurisdictions, of course, the complexities of customs-house operation multiply. Every ounce of foreign material that enters the United States comes under the protection and levy of the Customs Service if the goods involve the payment of a duty. The location of a customs house should be determined by that of the clientele it serves. Sometimes it is possible to place both the customs-house and the appraisers-stores activities in one structure, but since most of the users of the customs house are either professional customs brokers or shipping interests the location should be near their offices. The plan requirements are those of any good office building with proper controls, proper circulation, and an elastic plan which permits changes to be made over the years; the last attribute is essential in any government building. A customs house must have an area similar to a large banking room, where brokers and importers may pay their duties directly and where shippers may file entries and obtain clearance papers. In this room a public counter is necessary, with a space behind it for clerical personnel, and near by a small courtroom should be provided where hearings on disputed appraisals can be conducted by the customs court.

GOVERNMENT

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