Death, Taxes, and Architecture

I endured the annual rite this weekend of filing the federal and state tax returns for me and my wife. Hardly the most enjoyable way to spend a sunny, early spring Saturday but necessary; they weren’t going to take care of themselves, and I’m too cheap to pay someone to do them for us. Fortunately, the tax-preparation software I use helps make sense of today’s absurdly complex and arcane tax codes. 

As the saying goes, “nothing is certain but death and taxes.” Certainty aside, I’m happy to pay taxes because I believe it’s a moral obligation and an ethical duty for everyone who reaps the benefits of good government. Like most people, I do loathe seeing my tax dollars wasted because of inefficiency, ineptitude, or outright corruption. On the other hand, taxation is one of the essential functions of government and crucial to support its basic operations. Our federal tax payments underwrite public goods and services, such as the national transportation infrastructure, national parks system, scientific research, disaster relief, homeland security, and the military. Contrary to what some would say, the revenues provided by taxes generally strengthen rather than weaken the economy. Tax cuts that diminish revenue increase deficits and reduce national saving. 

At the local level, municipal governments and special districts in Oregon primarily rely upon property taxation. Citizens choose to fund specific capital projects at the ballot box, such as Eugene voters did overwhelmingly last November in favor of a $319.3 million bond measure, a significant portion of which will pay for the construction of three new schools. Lane County will likewise seek approval this May from its constituents for a sizable tax increase in support of a new county courthouse. 

My firm (Robertson/Sherwood/Architects) is a direct beneficiary of capital spending by government agencies. A substantial portion of our billings each year are directly attributable to publicly funded projects. Our clients have included federal agencies (Department of Veterans Affairs, U.S. Forest Service), Oregon pubic universities, and dozens of municipalities and special districts. Accordingly, you might interpret my advocacy for taxation as somewhat self-interested, which I won’t deny. I’m sure I would be equally supportive of sound investments in the common good even if the majority of the Robertson/Sherwood/Architects’ clientele hailed from the private sector. 

Designing buildings for government agencies can be confounding for architects. There are instances when the political will or ego exists to realize architecturally audacious and technologically ambitious projects blessed with generous resources; however, such opportunities are rare and certainly extravagant when so many deserving needs are left wanting. Closer to the norm are challenging assignments that pair merely adequate budgets with lofty expectations. These projects range from the humblest of small facility upgrades to new construction costing many millions of dollars. 

Being who we are and understanding our public sector clients so well, our instincts favor a design philosophy of “municipal modesty.” What this means is an approach to design that prioritizes functionality, respect for the project budget, long-term flexibility, durability, and ease of maintenance, rather than flash and sizzle. Such a philosophy does not preclude architecture that achieves landmark status. We work with our clients to identify what is important to them. We certainly try to ensure our designs are representative of their values, history, and diversity. We’re always mindful of the local context and to the role public buildings should play in society. 

The bottom line is people want to know their tax dollars are being well-spent. They entrust architects to design buildings responsibly. It behooves us to take this charge seriously. In addition to designing with frugality in mind, this means doing what we can to ensure our public architecture is graceful, elegant, and dignified. Done properly and respectful of the public trust, the best buildings for government become objects of pride and last for generations. 

Spoiler alert: We’re all going to die one day. Make the most of the limited time you have. Be responsible citizens—pay your taxes. Good government for and by the people requires the support of its populace. Good public architecture likewise warrants your support and an appreciation for its importance to the care of human life and happiness, and to the legacy of the institutions it serves.   

Hudson Yards: Lessons for Eugene?

Hudson Yards under construction, June 2018 (my photo)

Literally big news in architectural circles lately has been the March 15 opening of the first phase of the massive Hudson Yards development in New York City. I’ve followed the progress of Hudson Yards since my visit to the Big Apple last June to attend the 2018 AIA Conference on Architecture. The window of my 26^th floor room in the New Yorker Hotel happened to look westward towards its site atop the storage yard for the Long Island Railroad cars, the rising 1 Manhattan West tower(1) looming in my view. I walked past Hudson Yards daily to and from the Javits Center, site of the AIA Conference, so I also enjoyed a sidewalk perspective. To say the development is merely huge would be an understatement; it is in fact the largest private real estate development ever in the United States. Not surprisingly, it is also enormously expensive—by some accounts the bill will total more than twenty-six billion dollars when all is said and done (let that sink in for a moment: that’s 26,000 million dollars!). 

How can such an unimaginably large megaproject be relevant to our work here in little Eugene, Oregon? What are the lessons we might take from what is already evident about Hudson Yards, and how can we apply those lessons here? 

Much of the press about Hudson Yards on the occasion of its opening has been harshly critical. Alexandra Schwartz of The New Yorker magazine lamented its “unremitting artificiality,” with a “frictionless sameness” about it, “an enclave, a high-end corporate park buoyed by six billion dollars in tax breaks.” She described its centerpiece—the Vessel, a permanent art installation designed by Thomas Heatherwick—as a “triumph of vapidity, banal to its hollow core.”(2)  Michael Kimmelman of The New York Times popped the project’s bubble of urbanistic pretension by rightly characterizing it as “a gated community catering to the upper class . . . a relic of dated 2000s thinking, nearly devoid of urban design [that] declines to blend into the city grid.” 

The Vessel. Photo by Epicgenius [CC BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)]

Other critics have similarly been less than charitable. Like Kimmelman, Mark Alan Hewitt of Common\Edge questioned Hudson Yard’s inward-focus, exclusivity, and particularly its incorporation of a glitzy shopping mall for the wealthy. “Having a shopping mall, a ‘museum of commodities,’ attached to both housing and arts venues is an inevitable consequence of our conflation of money with culture,” he wrote. Many detractors draw unfavorable comparisons between the 28-acre development and Rockefeller Center, itself a mega-development in its own time. As Michael J. Lewis of The Wall Street Journal said, “Hudson Yards, it is now clear to see, is no Rockefeller Center … it lacks the gracious integration of outdoor space with the architectural order of its surrounding buildings.” Matt Shaw of The Architect’s Newspaper sardonically refers to Hudson Yards as “Little Dubai” because its genesis is not unlike how development has occurred in spectacular fashion in Dubai, via a marriage of government and private interests that confers power upon technocratic consultants to plan whole districts in one fell swoop. 

Witold Rybczynski, one of my favorite writers on architecture, remarked most succinctly of all: “. . . the whole thing adds up to—well, nothing, really.” 

Do I agree? For the most part, yes. Hudson Yards seems remorselessly sterile. This much was immediately apparent to me during my visit to New York, well before its opening last week. Additionally, nothing about the project suggests it grew in a piecemeal and organic way; I suppose in this respect it is at least “honest.” There’s no room for clutter, chaos, or a diversity of experiences. It’s all carefully curated, programmed, and choreographed, mostly for the benefit of the uber-rich. Access to the Vessel is by appointment. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that order is enforced by a squadron of Segway-riding mall cops. 

Hudson Yards seen from the 102nd floor of the Empire State Building, November 2018. Photo by DigbyDalton [CC BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)]

What’s especially remarkable to me is the persistent sameness of the architecture at Hudson Yards, which is peculiar because the developers—Related Companies and Oxford Properties—commissioned several architectural firms(3) to design the project’s various office and residential towers. And yet, there they are, all so much alike: same silvery blue glass curtain walls, same stark geometries, same Brobdingnagian proportions. Moreover, they’re indifferent to one another, an upmarket gaggle that happens to rub shoulders only by circumstance, nothing if not like uniformly pinstriped, mute office workers in a crowded elevator cab. 

Equally peculiar is its street-level desolation. From what I gather, the pedestrian experience since Hudson Yards’ opening is nothing like that of the city to which it has been grafted. New York is famous for its authentic street experiences, its spirited juxtapositions, and the messy vitality of its crowded, dirty sidewalks. It’s a wondrous mélange of public spaces where serendipity rules and one ever is alone. It’s a city that never sleeps and where everyone walks. It’s a place with few barriers and welcoming to people from all cultures and walks of life. By contrast, Hudson Yards is an elevated office park, an icy monument to private influence over public space. It’s possible the passage of time and the acquisition of patina will soften its edges, but for now it hardly resembles nor meshes with the great city from which it springs. 

In its defense, the Hudson Yards project isn’t a byproduct of neighborhood-busting “urban renewal.” Nobody was forcibly displaced. It’s built over a working railyard, multiplying the value of that real estate many times over. Despite relying upon substantial tax waivers and subsidies to “pencil out,” the property will ultimately contribute orders of magnitude more to New York’s property tax rolls than it would if left as it was. Hudson Yards also needed to be a very large project to warrant the enormous investment in improvements to the site’s infrastructure. 

So, what can we here in Eugene learn from a project like Hudson Yards, one that seems alien to the reality of our urban situation? 

It’s clear one lesson from Hudson Yards is endless buckets of money do not guarantee good architecture and urban design. Another is that bigger is not synonymous with better. Those with the benefit of hindsight recognize the damage wrought upon downtown Eugene by the injurious union of imprudent redevelopment, slavish devotion to the needs of the automobile, and the flight of retail to newfangled malls during the 1960s and 70s. Those broad strokes condemned our urban core to decades of decline from which it is still now only recovering. Eugene’s modest scale cannot withstand similarly misguided ventures. The misbegotten Capstone student housing development approaches the limits of what our downtown can withstand; as it is, Capstone serves as a prime example of how not to create a pedestrian-friendly streetscape and as a poster child for missed opportunities. 

1 Manhattan West under construction with Hudson Yards beyond, as viewed from my room on the 26th floor of The New Yorker Hotel, June 2018

I’ve long championed the principle of incremental growth. Incremental growth is by definition inconsistent with huge megaprojects like Hudson Yards. The benefit of piecemeal or incremental growth is that it allows for fine-grained adjustments over time. Assuming growth is desirable at all—in the case of downtown Eugene, I believe it is—development in smaller increments is less likely to result in undesirable outcomes.  

Fundamentally, we can view the urban fabric as a complex adaptive system subject to the effects of interrelated groups of activities. Because of their complexity, it is difficult to fully understand cities, let alone plan them well. Another analogous model is to view cities as living organisms. Like any life form, they are vulnerable to structurally disruptive effects. Predicting the impact of changes carried out in big chunks isn’t easy if we factor in the highly interdependent systems of which cities are comprised. 

Arguably, one effective mechanism for improving the urban environment has been trial and error. Minor missteps provide feedback useful for recalibrating future choices. Small errors are relatively easy and inexpensive to correct. Bigger, coarser mistakes are far less so. 

The redevelopment of the former EWEB site along the banks of the Willamette River is monumentally important to Eugene. As a matter of fact, it may be our Hudson Yards. Perhaps it’s a stretch for me to suggest there are considerable parallels between the two projects, but they are clearly there. Both developments are being undertaken by a single development team on sites brimming with potential. Both are the beneficiaries of public subsidies. Both are and will be realized relatively quickly. Though perhaps inconceivable given the disparities between them, the EWEB riverfront redevelopment may be even more significant to Eugene than Hudson Yards is to New York. 

Again, bigger isn’t necessarily better. What’s clearly needed for the EWEB riverfront project is good design, fine-grained and attuned to the specifics of the site and its connections to the river and urban fabric. Good design will be necessary to avert the possibility of “unremitting artificiality” and “frictionless sameness” that afflicts Hudson Yards. Indeed, what Eugene needs of its riverfront redevelopment project is to avoid making the big mistakes by utilizing an iterative design process that models as closely as possible what piecemeal growth might be like if it was actually implemented that way. 

Regardless of their size, location, or cost, there are lessons to be learned from any project. Hudson Yards may be huge and expensive but not so much so that it doesn’t have something to teach architects here in Eugene.

(1) 1 Manhattan West isn’t technically part of the Hudson Yards development, but it is immediately contiguous with it and utilizes the same architectural vocabulary. The tower is part of an associated mixed-use project by Brookfield Properties and not by Related Companies/Oxford Properties, developers for Hudson Yards. 

(2) The Guardian dubbed the Vessel “a 15-story high answer to the question: ‘How much money could a rich man waste building a climbable version of an M.C. Escher drawing?’ (The answer is $200 million).” 

(3) KPF, SOM, Roche-Dinkeloo, and Diller Scofidio + Renfro designed the Phase 1 towers. Phase 2 will include towers reportedly designed by Santiago Calatrava, Robert A.M. Stern, and Frank Gehry.

Who the hell is Elliott Jaques?

The following is a summary of a presentation to the Emerald Executive Association (of which I’m a member) written by EEA executive director Lindy Moore. As Lindy recounts below, the presentation was by Charley Coury of 9Wood, which makes it relevant to readers of this blog. 9Wood is well-known to architects because the company engineers and manufactures high-quality, custom suspended wood ceiling systems. 9Wood is a home-grown success story. Based in Springfield, it more than holds its own competing with such heavy hitters as Armstrong Ceilings and Rulon International. 9Wood’s portfolio boasts award-winning installations throughout the United States and Canada. The company is a favorite among architects because it makes a point of being involved as early as possible in the design process. 9Wood treats every project as unique and truly engineers to-order. The end result are wood ceiling systems that fulfill the architect’s design intent in every respect. 

A deficit of free time continues to hamper my blogging, so I’m thankful I can share Lindy’s writeup. Among other things, she’ll help explain what the title of this blog post has to do with Charley Coury and 9Wood. Read on: 

Emerald Executive Association Meeting 3-14-19

We had a really fascinating program this morning from Charley Coury, President and General Manager of 9Wood. 9Wood is a wood ceiling manufacturer of custom, suspended wood ceilings. Charley told us that rather than talk about 9Wood, he was going to answer the question, “Who the hell is Elliott Jaques?” But first he thought we might want to know who the hell Charley Coury is. 

Charley has a degree in anthropology but really wanted to be a missionary. He did missionary work in Africa for seven years and when he returned home to Oregon he realized he needed a job. He had roots in the wine making/microbrewery enterprise because his father was a pioneer in both industries, but Charley ended up in the ceiling business instead. 9Wood has a wonderful history. The company’s products can be seen at the ceilings of the Hult Center and the Eugene Airport, to name just two local projects. 

After a time, Charley took on management of Human Resources for 9Wood. He found it a challenge to motivate his employees, to make their lives better, more productive, happier, and still keep control of the expenses. He found the answer about ten years ago on his way back from a business trip to Qatar. Charley began reading a book (Requisite Organization) written by a man named Elliott Jaques (b.1917 d. 2003) and was immediately impressed. Many think Jaques was one of the most brilliant and innovative management philosophers of our time. Jaques devoted his life to organizational management. 

Charley Coury

Jaques sought to answer the question of why people get paid different wages. Why does the production worker on the floor get paid so much less than the supervisor? Jaques came up with the answer: There are two ways of thinking about the nature of work. All work has “prescription” (not breaking the law, making money for the company and the shareholders, etc.) There is also “discretion,” the ability to make wise decisions on your own. Every job has prescription and some level of discretion. Every employee makes decisions, solves problems, and provides feedback to his or her company in some form or another. 

Jaques came up with the idea of time and the “time span of discretion.” This is the longest time horizon a person can effectively work into the future, without direction, using their own discretionary judgment to achieve a specific goal. 

Charley provided an example to illustrate this principle. He gave one of 9Wood’s supervisors the job of improving the accuracy of their wood staining information. Every once in a while, there was a problem with staining, which led to the use of the incorrect color. The result was the client rejecting the work, necessitating re-staining of the wood. Charley made the assignment very clear. He and the supervisor talked about it, reiterating goals. Charley directed him to solve this information problem. In other words, he told the supervisor to take the ball and run with it. 

It’s typical for employees to come to Charley for advice and for Charley to check in on them. Such an assignment can take several months to execute. It may involve going outside one’s own department: meeting with engineers, the sales department, design personnel, production workers, and department managers to influence their behavior, to show leadership and to figure everything out. The tasks are not always simple, but Charley will not take the ball back unless it becomes clear the job is too big for the supervisor. If the supervisor does get everything accomplished and solves the problem, he or she will have carried the ball over the line (Charley’s words). 

Elliott Jaques also developed theories about Differential Pay and Felt Fair Pay, to wit: Those paid fairly at their level feel satisfied. Those paid below their level feel frustrated. Those paid above their level, privately feel insecurely favored. 

Charley said that if an employee at 9Wood wants to advance in the company he or she can go to Charley and tell him they want to go up one level. He can tell them unequivocally what is expected of them at that higher level and what the pay would be if they achieve it. It’s the same information he gives to any employee seeking advancement. He admits it becomes much more freeing and hopeful to offer clarity to the individuals and a fair and equitable way to conduct business. He gives the same speech to everyone, no matter what the level they start at may be. 

This was a truly inspirational morning. One of the reasons Charley was so passionate about Jaques’ book is that he learned that if you want to lead, you have to read. With Jaques’ books, he believes he hit the jackpot. Charley confessed he was not a very good reader but he’s taught himself to improve his reading “muscle” and he now compares reading to inhaling a beautiful perfume. Not unlike the atmosphere at the Steelhead this morning. Our sincere thanks to Charley Coury! 

About Elliott Jaques

Born in Toronto, Ontario, Elliott Jaques was educated at the University of Toronto and studied medicine at Johns Hopkins University before receiving his Ph.D. in social relations from Harvard University, and then qualification as a psychoanalyst at the British Psychoanalytical Society. He was a founding fellow of the Royal College of Psychiatrists in Britain and was a Visiting Professor at George Washington University in Washington, DC, and Honorary Professor of the University of Buenos Aires. 

During the Second World War, Jaques served as a Major in the Canadian Army where in collaboration with Henry Murray of Harvard University used his education and training to establish the Canadian War Office Selection Boards. He was assigned as liaison to the British Army War Office Psychiatry Division, which in turn developed its own War Office Selection Boards. 

After the war Jaques remained in England and qualified under Austrian-British psychoanalyst Melanie Klein. She highly appreciated his help in preparation for the publication of her book, Narrative of a Child Analysis (1961). Jaques also helped Klein to edit the manuscript of Envy and Gratitude (1957), evidence suggests that it was Jaques who suggested that the word "gratitude" should be included in the title of the book. He was a founding member, in 1946, of the Tavistock Institute of Human Relations. In 1964, he founded the School of Social Sciences at Brunel University London and served as its Professor and Head of School.

Dr. Jaques moved from London to Gloucester, Massachusetts in 1991. He became a research professor at George Washington University. In 1999 Jaques established Requisite Organization International Institute, operating as an educational and research group. 

As a result of his work with different corporations, governments and U.S. Army, Jaques developed scientific process that allows to evaluate potential capability of individuals in the context of time-span of discretion, instrument which measures work complexity in each role within the organization. This approach has been used by US armed services and large public and private organizations around the world. In 1965 Dr. Jaques published an essay on working patterns of creative geniuses in which he coined the phrase “midlife crisis.” 

His development approach to organizational development makes him one of the early contributors to positive adult development.

Masonry Design: An Architect’s Perspective

Yet another short blog post: Perhaps I should attribute its brevity to the switchover to Daylight Savings Time—after all, we all lost an hour by “springing forward” this weekend. The truth is I needed to dedicate much of my time to preparing a presentation I’m going to give to the students of Oregon State University’s CE 482/582 Masonry Design class in Corvallis this coming Thursday, March 14.

Harold Friberg, Executive Director of the Masonry & Ceramic Tile Institute of Oregon asked me if I would like to speak to the class, primarily about the relationship between architects and structural engineers. I previously served as a juror for MCTIO’s 2011 Hammurabi Awards, which honors innovative and unique building projects that feature the prominent use of masonry. Harold connected me with Nathan Wallace, S.E., P.E., instructor for the CE 482/582 Masonry Design course, which is sponsored in part by MCTIO.

Nathan suggested describing the project delivery process and the roles the architect and the structural engineer play in the development of the design for a new building, in particular considerations that influence decisions to utilize particular structural systems over others. I’m likely to specifically address when, in my opinion, masonry is the right solution.

I’m flattered Harold asked me to speak on behalf of architects to an impressionable group of future structural engineers. I hope I’m equal to the task.

YouTube Channels for Architects

YouTube is not just for cat videos

It’s been just a little more than two years since I wrote a post about how prolific the Internet is in providing access to “a boundless treasure trove of information, knowledge, and entertainment.” What held true in late February of 2017 remains unchanged this early Sunday in March of 2019. During an unusual (for Eugene) snow-filled week that also saw me quarantined in my house with a miserable cold—one distinguished by painfully achy muscles—I literally watched dozens of YouTube videos across a broad range of topics. My video playlist reads like one my 12-year-old self would have appreciated: news about space ventures (i.e. SpaceX, Blue Horizon, and Virgin Galactic), paleontology, military history, and of course, architecture. 

As various social commentators have observed, YouTube and its video contributors have launched “the biggest learning cycle in human history.” They’ve done this by disrupting how people learn. We’re in the midst of a huge paradigm shift. For better or worse, people prefer watching over reading and being compelled rather than bored. Social media networks like Facebook and Twitter prioritize video over other types of content. The statistics are telling. People upload hundreds of hours of content to YouTube every minute. By some accounts, as much as 80% of all Internet traffic will be video in just a couple of years. That video-sharing platforms like YouTube are increasingly where people go to learn is unsurprising. 

I’m not going to lament a waning of “classroom learning” because I don’t think it will ever entirely disappear. The primary role of tomorrow’s “brick & mortar” schools and universities will be to continue to provide the intellectually curious a place to gather and be mentored by a knowledgeable teacher. “E-learning” will not supplant this role. Instead, the transition to the space of online education will enrich the social interactions and discussions between students when they’re actually in the classroom because everyone can individually review and replay material beforehand as much as necessary, when convenient, at their own pace, on an assortment of device types. With smart phones, students literally carry a virtual classroom in their pockets. 

Independent content creators dominate YouTube, with many having built huge, grassroots followings numbering in the tens and even hundreds of thousands. Typically, these creators have their own “channels” delivering videos to a worldwide audience. Today’s best teachers are global stars, with the potential to reach millions of students. 

The volume of online videos devoted to architectural design, history, education, and practice has mushroomed since 2017. Thankfully, I can report the quality of much of the new material is very good and worth your look. I attribute this to the continued maturation of the medium and the rising to the top of the best content providers. Among these, I recommend the following and their YouTube channels, ranked in order of the numbers of subscribers each has (from least to most): 

Business of Architecture 
14,346 subscribers 
Architect Enoch Sears, AIA, LEED AP, has assembled a YouTube presence and a website dedicated to helping other architects build highly profitable and impactful practices. His informative videos encompass subjects from across the entire breadth of professional practice, including such varied topics as launching an architecture firm, choosing a project management software, creating a remarkable client experience, and building an exceptional team and culture. He knows many become architects because they want to design and create. He also knows designing and creating is impossible without a profitable business. Business of Architecture provides resources and tools in video form that can help any small architectural firm excel. 

ARTiculations 
37,185 subscribers 
Betty Chen, NCIDQ, is an interior designer based in Toronto. Her career is dedicated to getting people to care about art, architecture, and design. She focuses her efforts on making her interests accessible and understandable to everyone. One of her goals for ARTiculations is to remove the barriers that make the world of design appear elite and alienating. Her wide-ranging videos include such titles as “When Did Modern Architecture Actually Begin,” “A Brief History of the Exit Sign,” and “Why is Accessible Design Good for Everyone?” 

How to Architect 
188,548 subscribers 
Doug Patt, AIA is in his own words “The Tony Robbins of Architecture.” He started How to Architect back in 2008 and to date has produced literally hundreds of videos about architecture for his channel. There are videos that will teach you how to letter like an architect, help you decide if you want to become one, and even a few that can help you figure out if you’ve got what it takes. You’ll also find extensive playlists like Architecture 101 that includes hundreds of facts about architecture, a series about why buildings look like they do, Top 10 lists, videos about making a portfolio, and several featuring real architectural projects Doug’s worked on. 

30x40 Design Workshop 
314,544 subscribers 
Eric Reinholdt is an architect whose firm 30x40 Design Workshop is a sole proprietorship in Maine. His videos come from his very personal perspective; it’s this that gives his YouTube channel its strongest appeal. It’s easy to relate to what he has to say, particularly if you’re a small firm owner like he is. Time is a fixed asset, perhaps the ultimate constraint for a sole practitioner. Eric’s greatest insight may be the importance of prioritizing “making” over “managing.” Both are important to him, but first and foremost it is the creative process that drives his work. It’s his calculated choice, one his 300,0000+ YouTube channel subscribers agree with. 

The B1M
394,542 subscribers
The B1M is the world’s most subscribed-to video channel for construction, claiming over 7 million people watch the site’s videos each month.  UK-based Fred Mills co-founded the channel, starting it because he believed the construction industry was doing a poor job at promoting itself. The B1M’s success speaks for itself, becoming the first channel focused on building and architecture to receive YouTube’s Silver Creator Award. Its goals include inspiring a better construction industry by sharing knowledge and expertise with a mass audience and attracting the best young talent by showing construction at its finest to millions. 

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What each of these outstanding YouTube channels have in common are the energy and enthusiasm of the individuals behind them, and their willingness to share what they know with the rest of us. I’ve bookmarked the channels and look forward to watching many of their contributions on future lazy, rainy (or snowy) days.