Sustainable Design: The Shire

hobbiton460.jpgThe other day I found The Lord of The Rings on basic cable, and I thought it would make a nice background noise, and provide an occasional distraction from my attempt to handle some long neglected Saturday chores. Something did in fact quickly distract me. During a scene placed in “The Shire” it occurred to me, we could learn much from the Hobbits in regard to sustainability.

A harmonious design with nature, the Hobbit’s Shire is constructed with as little impact on the lush green rolling hillsides as possible. In fact, it almost takes a second look to see that the that houses actually exist.

375px-Shirewide.jpgBased on my brief research on Hobbits (watching the movie) I didn’t appear that electricity existed. But if it did, their energy costs would be greatly minimized by their sustainable concepts. Built into the hillsides, the grass covered cottages would provide warmth in the winter and cooling in the summer. The roads and paths were kept to a minimum width using only porous paving material such as stone or simply dirt, absorbing rainwater therefore requiring no need for a storm water system.

Because trucks and petrol were not an option, the Hobbitians (?) would have to rely on building materials from local sources, their food, raised and grown within close proximity of town. No utilities, cars, or industrial pollution would mean clean water systems, and with little to no rain water run off, an endless supply for the water cycle.

scouring_of_the_shire_hildebrandt.jpgThere is in fact a community I found as inspired by the Hobbits gentle and earth friendly approach to housing development. Although not quite as thorough, “The Shire” in Bend, Oregon is a sustainable housing community inspired by J.R.R. Tolkien’s infamous imaginary village. The homes come in a variety of English Country Village Architecture, all offering green building products such as Lifebreath HVAC systems, radiant floors, SIPS roof panels, as well as working with Energy Star and Earth Advantage Building Programs, which provide leading edge technology for energy and technology.

So hats off to Frodo and the boys, real or not, as humans we can learn from the Hobbits.

Thanks for reading,

adam@landscaperx.com

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Bower Play

Step into the color-coordinated world of the South-Pacific bowerbird, where a complex architecture of found objects takes shape in the tropical forest.

Maybe you've always thought that bachelor pads were for the birds--if so, you'd be right.

The bowerbird has literally made name for itself constructing colorful tropical homesteads.  Using flowers, feathers, fruit pulp, seeds, moss, snail shells, and just about anything else it can get its beak on, the male bowerbird displays an architect's sense for assembling social space.

University of Maryland biologist Gerald Borgia explains that some bowerbirds are even known to paint the inside walls of their ornamentally complex towers, roofed bridges, and display courts, using "a stain made from chewed plants, charcoal, and saliva."  Indeed, Borgia adds, "Males with high-quality bowers...and many decorations on their courts mate most often."  Good design, in other words, gets the chicks.

And some birds need the extra help.  There is a demostrated correlation between lackluster plumage and the construction of more colorful bowers--what Borgia calls "flashier nests"--within which a romantically unattached male can indulge his inner Liberace.  Singing songs of attraction and realigning his Technicolor spread to shine more brightly in the afternoon sun, the bowerbird eagerly awaits his next visitor.

Using color to define or individualize space is clearly a strategy that crosses species lines, but exactly how color is used, and what specific colors might mean to those who use them, remains an open subject.  Whether to attract, intimidate, soothe, or confuse, color is key to the decoration of space.

 

Febuary 2008, Dwell Magazine 

Did Succulents Save Her Home?

Being a Southern California resident I witnessed first hand the destruction of the recent fires that surrounded the area.  Also being a designer I was surprised to learn about the benefits of succulents in a fire retardent application written in the LA times.  Enjoy.

 

33679751.jpgSUCCULENTS have soared in popularity recently because they're drought-tolerant, easy-care and just plain cool to look at, and now there's another compelling reason to grow them: They're fire-retardant. During last month's wildfires, succulents -- which by definition store water in plump leaves and stems -- apparently stopped a blaze in its tracks.

 
"Succulents saved our home!" Suzy and Rob Schaefer wrote in a jubilant e-mail to friends and family after they returned to their fire-ravaged neighborhood in Rancho Santa Fe. The tabloidian statement is out of character for the low-key couple -- he's retired and she's an artist -- but it seems justified.

Their garden of aloes, agaves, euphorbias and more -- created by Suzy with the help of San Diego landscape architect Robert Dean -- encircles the Southwest-style home, which is adjacent to a palm- and eucalyptus-filled canyon. The garden is intact, but many of the canyon's trees are blackened skeletons.

A tentacle of the Witch Creek fire, driven by high winds, roared down the canyon, which runs along the edge of the Schaefers' back yard.

"Flames came within 6 feet of the house, then stopped," Suzy says.

Shielding the most vulnerable corner of their home is a common, unassuming succulent that is common yet has no common name: Aloe arborescens. As it held off the flames, its fleshy leaves cooked and turned the color of putty.

Aloe arborescens, native to South Africa, grows throughout Southern California; dense plantings of it rim the cliffs of coastal communities. Its tapered green leaves are serrated on the edges, but not sharp, and radiate from a central stem, forming starfish-like rosettes. These overlap into mounding plants that grow 5 or 6 feet high, and as wide. In midwinter, the plants send up brilliant orange flower spikes that, ironically, often are described as "torchlike."

Wildfires are opportunistic; they focus on easy fodder, in this case the canyon's dry leaves and wispy fronds. Flames from the canyon lapped at the Schaefer garden, which sits just beyond the bank.

Seeking fuel, the fire climbed part way up a eucalyptus; scorched the slope; probed aloes, jade plants and a succulent ground cover; and then retreated. Instead it engulfed and rapidly devoured an older home across the street.

"Succulents may broil or bake, but they don't burst into flames or spread them," says Don Newcomer, owner of Serra Gardens, a succulent specialty nursery that operated in Malibu for 25 years and will soon relocate south to Fallbrook for business reasons. When a wildfire threatened the nursery a decade ago, succulents halted the flames, Newcomer says, saving both his business and his home.

Eddie Villavicencio, deputy fire marshal for the San Diego Fire-Rescue Department, affirms that succulents are fire-retardant, especially jade and cactus. An exception are "certain ice plants, which if not well-maintained can be flammable underneath."

His department, which also monitors erosion control, cautions against planting trailing ground covers such as Hottentot fig (Carpobrotus edulis) atop steep slopes; its moisture-filled leaves are heavy and roots too shallow to hold the soil. (For more resources on fire-wise landscaping, go to latimes.com/home).

Gary Lyons, curator of the desert collection at the Huntington Botanical Gardens in San Marino, is outspoken about his desire to see succulents used as perimeter plantings for homes in areas.

"After the Altadena fire in 1993, I could see that agaves, aloes and opuntia had not burned, but rather had cooked," Lyons recalls. "They can't carry a fire. I wondered why there was no code requirement or law that requires developers and residents to use succulents in high fire areas. Why should taxpayers shoulder the firefighting costs of a hillside development's incendiary landscape?"

Why, indeed. Homeowners adjacent to wild lands may not realize it, but the plants with which they routinely surround their dwellings are infamously flammable (among them, pines, junipers, bougainvillea, flax and grasses). Basically, anything woody and twiggy is a potential haystack, ready to be ignited by the tiniest ember -- especially in autumn, especially during a record-setting drought.

California native plants are wonderfully resilient when it comes to wildfires, but it's not because they don't burn; some of the most common natives such as the aptly named greasewood (Adenostoma fasciculatum) are highly flammable. Fire is part of the chaparral's natural cycle, enabling seeds to burst open and fresh green growth to take the place of old. This makes natives admirable -- ingenious, even -- but not, unless they're fleshy, fire-retardant.

"There is some confusion about the terms 'drought-tolerant,' 'native plants,' and 'fire-retardant plants,' " Lyons explains. "Fire-retardant plants vis-à-vis cactus and succulents stand apart from drought tolerant and natives. A native plant garden in the chaparral is like growing Roman candles. Drought tolerant may not be much better."

"After any brush fire, you'll see succulents that were not burned," agrees Newcomer, who, like Lyons, would like to see homeowner associations and similar groups provide cuttings of Aloe arborescens to residents as a community service. "Aloes may not be native to Southern California, but they're not invasive, either," Newcomer says. "It's not like they escape and invade creek beds." He adds that Aloe arborescens offers the same health benefits of Aloe vera -- these and other "medicinal aloes" contain a viscous gel that purportedly aids the healing of minor burns.

If it seems absurd to legislate the use of succulents as landscape plants, it likely won't be necessary. They're already catching on. According to Ron Vanderhoff, nursery manager of Roger's Gardens in Corona del Mar -- which does the largest volume of sales of any independently owned garden center in the western U.S., "our business in succulents has risen from $40,000 in retail sales four or five years ago to $400,000 a year, and it continues to grow. No other category of plants in our store has shown anything close to this increase. We now do 7% or 8% of our volume in succulents."

The reason has to do with the plants' "simplicity of maintenance," Vanderhoff says. "People are spending less time in their gardens, and succulents are less fussy than annuals and perennials. They also have a lesser need for water and fertilizer, so they're more 'green.' And they're very sculptural and artistic. Succulents provide drama with their structure, leaves, colors . . . they're very expressive plants."

They're also easy to start from cuttings, which is how Suzy Schaefer filled her garden.

"I whack them back and replant them," she says, adding that her garden "is not just a way to cover dirt. It's a living thing, and half the fun is to enjoy it aesthetically. I love the shapes of succulents, and the way they look ordinary and then send up a bloom that knocks your socks off. Growing succulents is like collecting art or sculpture -- better, because when you have too many, you just give them away."

And as for those aloes, it appears their melted leaves protected the plants themselves; the centers of the rosettes are still a vibrant green.

Debra Lee Baldwin is the author of "Designing With Succulents" (Timber Press, 2007). Please send comments to home@latimes.com.

Do Suburbs have Falcons?

I recently took a drive through an area know as Santiago Canyon, which lies just outside of the fully developed and soon to be overpopulated Irvine California. 

gate.jpgThe most frustrating thing about growing up in Ohio and living in Southern California for me is how difficult it is to distance yourself away from the things of man, to find a quiet, peaceful place within dear Mother Nature.  Call me a treehugger, hippie, whatever you wish, but its these type of landscapes that have always calmed my soul, and unless you've been exposed to easily available open space, I'm afraid you wouldn't understand.

Santiago Canyon has some of these qualities, solely for the fact that its a canyon and many of the areas are unbuildable, it provides a nice contrast to the traffic ridden streets of the rest of Orange County.  Unfortunately however, I soon came across a site that disappointed me, and raised questions about the longevity of the natural beauty that is hanging on for dear life.

The dissappointment:  Falcon View Estates.  A suburb, made possible by cutting down every tree that could possibly of housed a falcon's nest and carving and flattening the canyon hillside in order to build tract homes that look no different then any other of the suburbs I passed on my way. 

5.jpgWhat I don't understand, and I've seen this phenomenom across the US, is the sad attempt to reclaim the Genus Loci, or sense of place, of an area by simply putting up a sign that names the suburb after the character the site possessed before it was destroyed by the construction, hence "Falcon View".  Giant Olive Trees that provide shade and wildlife (hey, maybe even a falcon!) are removed to provide maximum amount of housing space to increase the developers profit, and new, smaller trees are brought in to one day attempt to provide which once existed.  Streams and creeks are damned and filled, and replaced by rubber-lined fountains within the confines of ones backyard, again, an iconic version of what was given to us naturally.

I hope I'm not coming across as a bantering environmentalist, I just want to encourage all of us as community members to understand the intrinsic value of our environment cannot be recreated, and if attempted all of our communities eventually become water-downed versions of the real thing, blending into neighborhoods that no matter which part of the country, only differ in name. 

sil25.jpgOur population is growing, and new homes are undoubtedly a necessity, so don't mistake my rambling for total preservation.  But as knowledgeable citizens, we have a voice in the approach that developers affect our surrounding environment, and with careful and creative planning, we can all live in more harmonious way within our natural environment, preserving at least a sense of place that hopefully our children and grandchildren can enjoy as we did.

I'm anxious to hear your thoughts, experiences, and comments regarding suburban development.



 

Roadside Attraction

MAG_DWE0905_P072-1.jpgOn seemingly every list of the best places to live in the U.S., the bucolic town of Boulder, Colorado, consistently ranks in the top five. Fortunate locals enjoy inordinate amounts of sunshine, surrounding mountains offer skiing and climbing, and the city’s location in a greenbelt ensures a thriving landscape year-round.

It’s no surprise, then, that residents take pains to preserve their environment, seeing as they spend so many hours frolicking in it. According to architect Joseph Vigil of local firm VaST, “Boulder was the first city in the nation to install the Green Points Program about 15 years ago, meaning that there are certain sustainability requirements for every new and residential remodel job in the city.” Points are given for each sustainable-design element homeowners choose—from recycled flooring to solar panels to tankless water heaters—and a building permit is issued only when a certain number of points have been met.

Such rigorous measures enable the city to maintain its reputation for clean air and healthy living, creating an extremely desirable place to settle down but also making it difficult to find housing at a reasonable price. So when Vigil and his wife, artist and designer Brandy LeMae, decided to build their home “as sustainably as we could afford,” Vigil says, the first hurdle was to find land in their price range.


“Most lots were around $450,000, for just the lot. And we knew there was no way we could pull that off,” LeMae explains. Eventually, LeMae stumbled across a site that was a relative bargain at $157,000. The only problem was that, like many good deals, it came with baggage. “One downside was the traffic and noise from the neighboring parkway; the other was that it’s a very awkwardly shaped lot,” states LeMae. But the price was right so they bought the space. As an added measure to preserve their modest budget, LeMae—who proudly admits to being “kind of a control freak”—decided to take on the job of general contractor herself.

As many of their design decisions revolved around budgetary concerns, initially LeMae and Vigil were concerned that going green would prove too expensive. In the end, however, the 3,000-square-foot, three-bedroom house (plus a home office and LeMae’s design studio) ended up costing only $91 a square foot to build. Vigil asserts that some of their environmentally conscious decisions—such as the structural insulated panels— actually helped defray costs. The panels—solid slabs of Styrofoam sandwiched between two layers of engineered wood product used in place of stick framing—showed up onsite pre-cut and ready to install. Besides providing excellent insulation, they also allowed for very quick construction with minimal waste, helping to accelerate LeMae and Vigil’s building schedule and thus saving money in the process.

MAG_DWE0905_P076-2.jpgOther building materials were equally carefully considered: The wood for the Sierra Pacific windows was sustainably forested, Forbo countertops are made of natural linoleum, radiant heating sits under the concrete floors, and all the landscaping was done with low-water and native plants. Where insulation was needed around window and door frames, instead of using the usual pink fiberglass they employed a cotton insulation, a denim industry by-product made up of trimmings that Vigil describes as having a texture “just like a Q-tip.” The quality of the house’s insulation, combined with windows placed high on the walls, modulates airflow in the house and passively cools the space when Boulder heats up.

LeMae and Vigil both felt there was an easy blend between their green ideals and their Case Study–inspired aesthetics. “The whole concept of the Case Study program,” notes Vigil, “was to design houses inexpensively and simply using over-the-counter, standard materials. And that really makes sense with green design philosophy. Because the more complicated a house is, the more it costs and the less money you can put toward things that environmentally make sense.”

Instead of outfitting their home with expensive Case Study–era design icons, however, LeMae and Vigil bought most of their furniture from big-box stores such as Target and IKEA. Innovative nods to mid-century modernism were instead made spatially and structurally. In homage to Richard Neutra’s merging of interior and exterior spaces, a small pond where a koi and a few big goldfish swim in lazy circles sits embedded in concrete, surrounded by a small planting area—an ideal place for the couple’s curious four-year-old daughter to roam. Other touches, like an open floor plan and a sunken living room, borrow from Charles and Ray Eames.

The result is a lean, green home in which the small family takes obvious pride. “We wanted to show that sustainable building does not limit you,” Vigil says. It’s a nice reminder that values-oriented design can indeed come cheap.

 

Dwell Magazine

Story by Amara Holstein / Photos by Ron Pollard