Architecture is Awesome: #35 Problem Solving

This is another in my series of posts inspired by 1000 Awesome Things, the Webby Award-winning blog written by Neil Pasricha. The series is my meditation on the awesome reasons why I was and continue to be attracted to the art of architecture.

At its core, architecture is about problem-solving. In the process of solving specific design problems, architects overcome challenges, innovate, and bring visions to life. With each project, they must understand their client’s needs, contextualize the project within its environment, and identify constraints before embarking on a journey of creative exploration.

Defining the problem often involves extensive research. For example, architects will exhaustively study the subject site, investigating its history, topography, regulatory framework, and cultural context. They will also analyze the functional requirements in detail, considering factors such as spatial organization, patterns of circulation, accessibility, desired adjacencies, and more. Budget limitations add a significant layer of complexity. Defining the problem sets the stage for problem-solving, as architects must first appreciate this breadth of concerns before reliably being able to formulate a cohesive design solution.

Fundamentally, every project has its own set of constraints. However, it is within these that architects find opportunities for ingenuity. Instead of viewing them as roadblocks, architects see constraints as parameters that fuel creativity. Limited resources may inspire the innovative use of materials, while zoning restrictions can lead to unique spatial configurations. Navigating these constraints requires a deep understanding of the entirety of the project's context and a willingness to embrace challenges as catalysts for innovation.

Once the design problem is adequately defined, the fun begins. The process of design involves brainstorming, sketching, and experimenting with different ideas. Experienced architects push the boundaries of conventional thinking in pursuit of the best solutions, often seeking inspiration from diverse sources, such as nature, art, and technology. By drawing parallels between unrelated concepts, they address aesthetic and functional aspects through innovative means.

Most often, the key to solving the design problem requires striking a balance between form and function. A visually stunning building loses its significance if it fails to meet the practical needs of its users. Conversely, a highly functional space may lack the aesthetic appeal that elevates it to a work of art. Architects must find harmony between the functional requirements of the space and the emotional experience it evokes. They do this by means of thoughtful design decisions, material choices, and spatial arrangements that cater to both the pragmatic and sensory aspects of architecture.

The ability to think outside the box is a hallmark of architectural problem-solving. Exploration does not occur along a linear path but rather resembles a dynamic dance of ideas that evolve and adapt. Problem-solving is also iterative. Through each iteration, architects assess the impact of their design decisions on the overall vision. They consider feedback from clients, engineers, and other stakeholders, refining the design to address concerns and optimize outcomes. This flexibility and openness to refinement are integral to the success of any architectural project. The iterative approach stirs continuous improvement, ensuring that the final solution is a well-crafted response to the design problem.

Architects find immense satisfaction in the process of problem-solving. That satisfaction is multifaceted. It arises from the fusion of creativity, analytical thinking, and the profound impact their designs have on the built environment. The AWESOME art of architectural problem-solving is an utterly unique and deeply rewarding aspect of the profession. It encompasses the joy of creativity, the thrill of overcoming challenges, and the impacts on the lives of others. There are few accomplishments more fulfilling than the process of transforming design problems into lasting, meaningful, and successful works of architecture.

Next Architecture is Awesome:  #36 Architectural Oddities

LCC Health Professions Building

Sunrise over the Lane Community College campus.

I have enjoyed the opportunity to work on a variety of significant projects throughout my career. The latest is the new Health Professions Building (HPB) for Lane Community College. Now under construction, it has proven to be one of the most rewarding assignments I have ever had the pleasure to be involved with.

Lane County voters passed a general obligation bond in May 2020 to fund the project, as well as an assortment of campus-wide improvements addressing classroom needs, safety and accessibility deficiencies, workforce retraining, and Career Technical Education. The HPB will provide space for the college’s Dental Assisting and Dental Hygiene programs, Medical Assistant program, and Emergency Medical Technician program, in addition to the administrative offices for the Health Professions Division. Beyond providing the programs with state-of-the-art teaching facilities, the key project goals include prominently showcasing the LCC health & wellness community and improving visual and physical connections with the overall campus.

My office, Robertson/Sherwood/Architects pc (RSA) teamed with our frequent collaborators at Mahlum Architects to secure the project. RSA is serving the role of executive architect/architect-of-record, providing project oversight, technical expertise, and leadership to ensure an integrated project process, while Mahlum provided the design muscle. As with our previous collaborations, the split of project duties and our associated fees shifted from greater involvement by Mahlum during programming, Conceptual Design, and Schematic Design, through a more equal division of labor during Design Development and Construction Documents, to heavier responsibilities for RSA during the permitting and Construction Contract Administration phases. For all intents and purposes, we have functioned as a single office on the Health Professions Building project rather than as two separate firms.

Our team additionally includes the following consultants:

• CAPITALEngineering (civil)
• Cameron McCarthy Landscape Architecture & Planning (landscape)
• Catena Consulting Engineers (structural)
• Interface Engineering (mechanical/plumbing)
• Stantec (electrical)
• Brightworks (sustainability)
• Studio Pacifica (accessibility)
• Rider Levett Bucknall (costs)

The first phase of the project involved site selection, extensive stakeholder engagement, confirmation of the functional program, and conceptual design. LCC formed a Steering Committee—comprised of college and Health Professions Division administrators and Facilities & Maintenance staff—to function as the decision makers. The entire project team developed a mission statement, which reads as follows:

“The new Health Professions Building will be a center for excellence, supporting Lane County in the responsible stewardship of our investment to co-locate critical applied learning programs, to train the health professionals of tomorrow, and to center equity and inclusion as a core value in the process.”

A touchstone throughout this initial phase was LCC’s metrics for success. These metrics were:

• The degree to which the new building succeeds as a tool for teaching and learning.
• Whether the project effectively reflects LCC’s core values.
• The project’s visibility and accessibility; and
• Whether the community’s bond dollars were spent efficiently and wisely.

Campus map showing the various sites considered during the site selection process.

The site selection process proved eye-opening. We studied several candidate sites, but the Steering Committee ultimately chose one that wasn’t initially on anyone’s radar screen. While more challenging to work with than the others, Site N.3 (as we dubbed it) offered the potential of being “transformational” for LCC. Its potential as a highly visible and symbolic gateway on the north side of the core campus, while providing clear circulation and visual connections to it, proved most compelling. Constructing the building there would reinforce and more clearly reveal the existing campus open space framework. Site N.3’s limitations (which included its constrained area, narrow proportions, and web of existing buried utilities) were not so onerous as to outweigh its considerable promise.

Mahlum’s resultant design concept is largely shaped by the selection of Site N.3. Circulation to and through the building from all directions is a primary form-giver, with both north- and south-facing main entry porches linked by a central lobby. The scale of the north porch is grand, a two-story tall portico providing a vast canvas for a future mural that will be prominently visible from 30th Avenue. The south entrance leads to a new campus plaza and a soon-to-be-installed pedestrian bridge connecting to Bristow Square in the heart of the campus.

Rendering of the north-facing elevation. Note the proposed mural within the portico.

The second phase of design developed this concept in detail. Our team went to great lengths to optimize the program areas, while being attentive to budget limitations exacerbated by cost escalation within the construction industry (the project’s current Guaranteed Maximum Price is $26,588,920). We organized the building’s layout, structural system, and exterior expression in accordance with the 40' grid that overlays the entire campus, an artifact of the mid-century planning principles that governed its initial form. Mahlum further broke the 40' grid down to three sections of 13’-4”. This smaller module presents a more human-centered scale, further subdivided into 4' segments that better align with typical building product dimensions and construction practices. The overall design effect is at once unique but also consonant with the new building’s campus neighbors.

Inside, the design further emphasizes connections and crossovers between the Dental Assistant, Dental Hygiene, Medical Assistant, and EMT programs, which are arrayed across 31,280 square feet on three floors. Space for breakout groups and chance interactions between students will be available throughout the building. The second phase of the design process afforded the Steering Committee the opportunity to reassess and refine programmatic needs considering budget factors, departmental relationships, scale, and the appropriate sizing of spaces.

LCC set a goal of LEED certification at the Gold level, utilizing design strategies that are practical, cost-effective, and low maintenance. Toward this end, our design emphasizes indoor air quality and thermal comfort, optimizes use of materials with limited life-cycle impacts, takes advantage of daylight and quality views, and maximizes energy performance. The HVAC design consists of a Dedicated Outside Air System (DOAS) with energy recovery and fan-coil units for zone heating and cooling. Interface Engineering used computer software to model the performance of the mechanical system, which is projected to provide annual energy savings of 22 percent compared to a comparable multi-zone variable air volume system. Overall, the project is on track to achieve LEED Gold certification.

Rendering of the proposed multipurpose classroom.

Rendering of the future dental clinic.

Fortis Construction is the Construction Manager/General Contractor (CM/GC) for the project. From the outset of their involvement at the beginning of Phase 2, the company provided invaluable cost estimating, value engineering, constructability review, and design coordination assistance. They’ve been tremendous and exemplary team members; I cannot commend them highly enough. Their technical savvy is second to none: Fortis exploits the benefits of digital coordination and collaboration tools, including clash detection software, reality capture on the construction jobsite, and customizable markup, measurement, and document management processes.

Construction progress - December 2023 

Thanks to Fortis’ diligence, the HPB is on schedule for completion in May of this year, coinciding with my planned departure from professional practice. Once in use, I am confident it will long and beneficially serve the Health Professions’ students, faculty, and the broader Lane County community, fulfilling the vision outlined by LCC. Because this is the last substantial project I will have a major hand in, I am especially grateful to have been part of its genesis and realization. The LCC Health Professions Building is a design truly marked by collaboration, innovation, and a shared commitment to excellence.

A New Year, A New Chapter

It is New Year’s Eve as I write this, and people everywhere are or will shortly be celebrating the turn of the calendar to 2024. By marking the end of one year and the beginning of another, they reflect on the past and look forward to the future with hope and optimism. It is a time to embrace new beginnings and anticipate what lies ahead.

This year’s celebration is a particularly momentous one for me, as I intend to retire next spring, shortly after I turn 65. While others reflect on the events and achievements that defined 2023, I cannot escape looking back on my four-plus decades in the architectural profession and what leaving active employment will mean for me. As is the case for many retirees-to-be, the transition promises to be profound, one that will shape who I am and what I become through my remaining years.

Attitudes toward retirement have evolved significantly over recent generations, influenced by various social, economic, and cultural factors. In the past, retirement often meant a sharp exit from the workforce. Many individuals now choose to work beyond the “traditional” retirement age (hello, 65!) for financial security, personal fulfillment, and to stay active. My plan is to fully commit to the next phase of my life and not extend my professional career, even on a part-time basis. This may seem uncharacteristic for an architect, as I can point to countless role models who practiced well into their golden years.(1)

Plenty of literature exists about the emotions and anxieties associated with arriving at retirement. According to the Holmes-Rahe Life Stress Inventory, the milestone ranks 10th on the list of life’s most stressful events.(2) It’s not uncommon to feel apprehensive about exiting the workforce. Am I stressed about what is ahead of me?

I am concerned I will initially struggle to “switch off” from work mode and relax. Will the loss of routine and structure be a problem? Will I find it difficult to fill my extra hours with activities that are truly meaningful? I know I will dearly miss the social interaction with my fantastic coworkers at Robertson/Sherwood/Architects, as well as with the clients, consultants, and contractors with whom I have collaborated. I worry most about the extent to which I have tied my sense of identity to being an architect and the degree to which my vocation has defined who I am. I suspect letting go of my professional being will be hard.

On the other hand, life is too darn short, and I have not lived as much of it as I should. I too often have overcommitted to work obligations and neglected my personal side, so it has not been unusual for me to approach burnout in recent years. I do feel good about the contributions I have made professionally—how I have helped clients and the community through my work—so I will leave my career with a clear conscience, free of regret. Simply put, the time is right for me to move on. I want to stop and smell the roses.

I look forward to leaving behind the demands of a full-time job, checking things off my bucket list, attending to my personal well-being (with an emphasis on staying mentally and physically active to ensure the best health outcome for myself as I age), staying curious while being a life-long learner, and trying new hobbies. First and foremost, I want to spend quality time with my wife so that I can likewise help her enjoy life to the fullest.

This blogsite, SW Oregon Architect, will continue to be a focus. I’ll need to change its name, as I intend to relinquish my professional licensure, change my State of Oregon registration status to “Architect Emeritus,” and no longer actively practice as an architect (the title of “Architect” is reserved for individuals properly licensed and regulated under ORS 671.010). Besides a name change, my guess is my blog will increasingly shift away from content tied to architecture toward a broader range of topics, including more personal musings. It will continue to provide me with a creative platform on which to express my thoughts, self-reflect, and exercise my gray matter.

I have abandoned the concept of New Year’s resolutions in the past, knowing my penchant for inevitable failure. But this time is different. My imminent retirement demands that I recalibrate my goals. I want this next chapter to be extraordinary—rich with new adventures, important connections, and the pursuit of passions beyond the proverbial drafting table—while I adapt to a new lifestyle, free from the daily grind yet brimming with possibilities.

Happy New Year to everyone! May your 2024 be as gratifying as I hope my time in retirement will prove to be, full of whatever comes my way.

(1)    Famous architects who continued to work right up to the end of their long lives include Frank Lloyd Wright (age 92), Oscar Niemeyer (105), Philip Johnson (99), and I.M. Pei (102).

(2)    Indeed, a study by the Institute for Social Research at the University of Michigan has found that the risk of a heart attack or stroke is especially acute during the first year of retirement and then starts to level off. My plan is not to contribute toward reinforcing that statistic.

Solstice Architecture

Long winter solstice shadows, Howard Buford Recreation Area, December 21, 2023 (photo by R. Fletcher).

I played hooky from work this past Thursday afternoon to join a group of friends on a hike at the Howard Buford Recreation Area near Eugene. We couldn’t have asked for better conditions as the weather was unseasonably dry and sunny, perfect for a pleasant stroll along some of the park’s forest and oak savanna trails at the base of Mt. Pisgah (I got my 10,000 steps in for the day and then some). Our gathering for the hike is a winter solstice tradition, annually bringing this circle of friends together. We not only observe the solstice and celebrate the holiday season, but also take the opportunity to connect with nature and welcome the return of longer days. 

The winter solstice is tremendously significant as it is the shortest day and the longest night of the year. In the Northern Hemisphere, it occurs when the sun is directly over the Tropic of Capricorn, which is located 23.5 degrees south of the equator. Ceremonies held during the winter solstice often center around themes of renewal, hope, and the triumph of light over darkness. Many people view these events, which observe key points in Earth's orbit around the sun, to be of substantial cultural, religious, and practical importance. 

Unsurprisingly, humans have long used architecture to mark important astronomical occurrences such as the solstices and equinoxes. Certain ancient societies built prominent edifices to serve as tangible connections between the earthly realm and the celestial sphere, particularly those associated with the apparent path of the sun.  

Stonehenge (photo by garethwiscombe, CC BY 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0>, via Wikimedia Commons)

The first instance that comes to everyone’s mind is Stonehenge in England, a prehistoric monument whose massive stones align with the sunrise on the summer solstice. Its purpose—a blend of religious and ceremonial significance—speaks to the ancient human impulse to seek meaning in the heavens above. Similarly, Newgrange in Ireland, with its passage tomb designed to capture the winter solstice sunrise, attests to the careful observation of celestial cycles and their integration into cultural practices. 

Entrance passage and entrance stone to Newgrange (photos by spudmurphy, CC BY-SA 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

Other notable examples include the solar temples of Machu Picchu in Peru, the great structures of Abu Simbel in Egypt, the temple complex of Angkor Wat in Cambodia, the pyramid at Chichén Itzá in Mexico, and the Cahokia Mounds near St. Louis, Missouri.

The reasons for constructing such structures are diverse and often involve a combination of religious, spiritual, agricultural, and social motivations. The ancient cultures saw celestial events as critical markers in their calendars. Aligning structures with the solstices and equinoxes served practical purposes such as determining planting and harvesting seasons, as well as reinforcing cultural and religious beliefs. 

Modern-day examples of the design and construction of structures that acknowledge and interact with celestial events include Frank Lloyd Wright’s Usonian hemicycle homes and the various installations of the Sky Mirror sculpture. The arcing plan of Wright’s Jacobs II passive solar home acknowledges the sun’s changing aspect through the seasons, alternately welcoming its warmth during the winter and sheltering its glass wall from solar gain during the summer. The Sky Mirror, by artist Anish Kapoor, is a large stainless-steel mirror that reflects the sky and its changes, capturing the movements of the sun, clouds, and celestial occurrences.

Plan of the Jacobs II House, a hemicycle home by Frank Lloyd Wright. 

Sky Mirror, Kensington Gardens, London (photo by Gaius Cornelius, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons) 

While we did not climb Mt. Pisgah during our hike Thursday through the Buford Recreation Area, its grassy summit area notably features a bronze sighting pedestal by sculptor Pete Helzer that aligns itself with the winter and summer solstices. It is a memorial that honors Jed Kesey (son of famed Oregon author Ken Kesey) who, along with another member of the University of Oregon wrestling team, died at the age of twenty in a 1984 automobile accident. Two slots in the monument capture the sun's path on the solstices. At sunrise and sunset on those days, you can stand with the pedestal between you and the horizon to see the rising or setting sun. Ken Kesey said the sculpture represents "the impermanence of life and the infinity on either side of it." 

Mt. Pisgah Sighting Pedestal, Pete Helzer, sculptor (photo from the artist’s website) 

The winter solstice holds cultural and religious significance across various civilizations and belief systems. The connection with the celebration of Christmas is particularly fascinating, with numerous historical, symbolic, and cultural overlaps. Though the winter solstice was initially a pagan celebration, Christianity absorbed and repurposed existing cultural practices and festivals associated with it. In particular, the symbolism of light is central to both the solstice and Christmas. For pagans, it is the return of sunlight after the darkest day of the year, whereas in Christianity, it is the arrival of Jesus as a divine light into the world, bringing hope and salvation to believers. The symbolism of light, themes of renewal, and the adaptation of ancient practices have contributed to the rich tapestry of winter celebrations, making the season a time of joy, reflection, and shared cultural heritage. 

Solstice architecture is a bridge between our shared past and the boundless possibilities of our future. As my friends and I soaked in the last rays of sunlight on the year’s shortest day, I couldn’t help but reflect on the enduring connection between humanity and the cosmos, a bond that has found a sometimes-powerful expression through architecture. May your coming days likewise be filled with the warmth of connection, the brilliance of new experiences, and the enduring light of shared joy as we navigate the seasons of life with gratitude and wonder. Happy Holidays!

Pergolas

 

Pergola, Hendricks Park, Eugene (my photo)

My wife and I took advantage of the clear, crisp weather here in Eugene yesterday by taking a leisurely stroll through Hendricks Park. Hendricks Park was the site of our wedding back in 1988, so it is a special place for us. We frequently visit to enjoy the rhododendron garden (when in season), the native plant garden, the mature forest, and the views overlooking the city. One of the features of the rhododendron garden is a serene and contemplative outdoor room defined by a pergola. We paused there yesterday to enjoy the elemental structure and the sense of tranquil connection with nature it evokes.  

Pergolas are ages old, dating back to ancient Egypt and Rome. The word "pergola" is derived from the Latin word "pergula," meaning a projecting eave. In ancient times, pergolas were often used in gardens to provide support for climbing plants, creating a shaded walkway or passageway. Today, pergolas are likewise used as decorative elements in gardens, parks, and yards. Pergolas also offer a shaded space for outdoor activities, such as dining or relaxation. In some cases, they may be attached to a building, extending living spaces outdoors.

Pergolas typically consist of vertical posts or pillars that support crossbeams and often an open lattice or roof. The open structure allows for sunlight and airflow while providing partial shade. Materials for construction vary and can include wood, metal, vinyl, or a combination of these. The design can range from simple and functional to intricate and decorative.

 

Pergola, Owen Rose Garden, Eugene (my photo)

Pergolas carry symbolic meanings in many cultures, such as representing a connection between heaven and earth or serving as a metaphor for growth and transformation through the climbing plants that adorn them.

An aspect of pergolas (and likewise arbors and gazebos) I’ve always found attractive is their primitive, elemental quality. There are some conceptual parallels between the proverbial “primitive hut” and pergolas, particularly in terms of simplicity and the use of basic structural elements. Like pergolas, the primitive hut highlights a connection to nature, and an acknowledgment of the fundamental elements that contribute to the essence of architectural form. I’ve spent much time during my professional career seeking to understand that essence.

Famous pergolas include those on the Biltmore Estate in North Carolina, the Pioneer Park Square pergola in Seattle, and the mile-long pergola at Hearst Castle in San Simeon, California. Further afield there are the particularly extensive pergola located at the Gardens of the Hill in Hamstead Heath (London) and the pergola on the Wroclaw exhibition ground in Poland. There are also structures akin to pergolas, such as the “chhatris” of traditional Indian gardens, Japanese torii gates, Arabesque archways in Islamic gardens, and African lath houses.   

Pergola of the Walled Garden, Biltmore Estate, North Carolina (CC BY-SA 3.0 <http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/>, via Wikimedia Commons)

 

Pioneer Square Pergola, Seattle (photo by Joe Mabel CC BY-SA 3.0 <http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/>, via Wikimedia Commons)

Pergolas continue to evolve in design and purpose, adapting to contemporary styles while maintaining a timeless appeal. Their historical significance, combined with their aesthetic and functional qualities, ensures their enduring popularity in various cultures worldwide.

The following is an ode to the pergola, which I asked ChatGPT to write:

Ode to the Pergola
O graceful frame, beneath the open sky,
A dance of light, where vines and breezes sigh.
Pergola, noble structure, standing tall,
In gardens fair, you weave a timeless thrall.
 
Through wooden arches, sunlight gently weaves,
A tapestry of shadows 'midst the leaves.
With pillars strong, a sanctuary true,
You beckon us to skies of endless blue.
 
In whispers soft, the climbing tendrils play,
A symphony of green in the light of day.
Entwined with nature's grace, a living cloak,
Each vine a tale, in every leaf, bespoke.
 
Beneath your arms, a haven takes its form,
Where dreams unfurl, and hearts in quiet storm.
A sanctuary for lovers' whispered words,
In your embrace, the song of nesting birds.
 
Oh, pergola, in gardens rich and wide,
Your lattice tales, with every knot, confide.
Symbol of growth, of nature's firm embrace,
A timeless art, where moments find their place.
 
In moonlit nights, a silhouette so grand,
A celestial dance, as stars command.
A quiet witness to the passing years,
You stand unmoved, as laughter turns to tears.
 
So here's to you, dear pergola of grace,
A timeless structure in this boundless space.
In gardens, parks, or memories untold,
Your open arms, a story to unfold.

I find this a surprisingly good result by an A.I. bot, based as it is on such a simple prompt. It eloquently captures much of what I find appealing about such outwardly simple structures. 

I do like pergolas!