The Imperative of Adaptive Reuse in a Disposable Culture

Commons Addition, North Eugene High School (2004-2024) by Robertson/Sherwood/Architects pc

I’ve outlasted several of the projects I worked on during my career. The Romania Subaru dealership that once occupied the property at 7th & Washington (now home to Five Guys, Jimmy John’s, and Starbucks outlets) is one such building I shepherded from design through construction. More recently, Eugene School District 4J demolished the old North Eugene High School. Robertson/Sherwood/Architects designed significant renovations and an addition to the school, which were completed in 2004, a scant two decades ago. Bittersweet is probably the best way to characterize being around to witness the razing of these projects. It seems their useful lifespans should have been much longer. Seeing this rapid cycle of construction/use/demolition, though not unique to my experience, reveals much about our contemporary culture and the broader architectural landscape.

It’s worth noting the transience of most buildings throughout history. Notwithstanding the notable and lasting architectural monuments many of us are familiar with, most human constructions have essentially been temporary solutions designed to serve immediate needs, as opposed to being built for the ages. In today’s world, economic pressures, technological advancements, and evolving aesthetic preferences continue to drive this mindset.

Romania Subaru (1999-2011)

The former site of Romania Subaru as it stands today.

Economically, the drive for profit and efficiency often eclipses the desire for permanence. Developers necessarily prioritize quick returns on their investments, influencing the design and construction of buildings wherein this goal is paramount. A knock-on effect is the premature demolition of structures to make way for new, more profitable developments.

Technological advancements also contribute to this phenomenon. Rapid progress in construction techniques and materials can quickly render buildings outdated, as can recognition of flawed design strategies (see the leaky condo crisis). So too can greater understanding of the threats posed by seismic events and climate change. The push for energy efficiency and smart technologies often makes older structures seem obsolete, even if they are still functionally sound. In this context, demolishing and rebuilding can appear more attractive than retrofitting and preserving.

Aesthetic preferences, too, evolve with time. Architectural trends shift, and what was once considered innovative can quickly become passé. The desire to stay current with styles and innovations leads to abbreviated cycles of construction and demolition, where buildings are regularly replaced to align with contemporary tastes.

Additionally, the sheer cost of necessary improvements can drive decisions to replace rather than renovate and reuse buildings. Cost-benefit analyses still too often reveal the expenses involved in bringing an older building up to modern standards exceed those of new construction. This financial reality further contributes to the preference for demolition over adaptive reuse.

Nothing is left of the original North Eugene High School.

This culture of impermanence has profound implications for our collective identity. Buildings are more than mere shelters; they express our values, histories, and aspirations. When we demolish structures we risk erasing important cultural markers and disrupting our connections with the past. The built environment becomes a fleeting snapshot of a moment rather than a lasting record of our evolution.

Historic preservation efforts, though commendable, often struggle against the tide of economic and technological pressures. We may spare iconic landmarks, but many buildings that hold local significance for a community face demolition. This loss can be particularly acute in rapidly developing urban areas, where the pressure to maximize land use is intense. A case in point that I documented back in 2021 was the demolition of the old Glenwood Restaurant near the University of Oregon campus in favor of a new student housing development.

Adaptive reuse offers a compelling alternative to the cycle of demolition and reconstruction. Repurposing existing buildings to serve new functions extends their utility while minimizing waste, resource depletion, and embodied carbon. Adaptive reuse revitalizes structures, allowing them to evolve alongside the communities they serve.

By reimagining and transforming existing buildings, we preserve cultural and historical significance while addressing contemporary needs. This approach aligns with sustainable practices, significantly reducing the environmental impact associated with new construction. Adaptive reuse minimizes waste by keeping existing structures out of landfills, conserves resources by reducing the need for new materials, and lowers embodied carbon emissions by reusing what has already been built. Additionally, adaptive reuse fosters creativity, as architects and designers find innovative ways to transform existing spaces.

This is far from a new idea. Stewart Brand published his seminal book How Buildings Learn back in 1994. He persuasively argued that architects should accept the inevitability of change and refinement, and design in a way that buildings can gracefully be adapted to different purposes. If architects do this—accept the reality of change as a constant—they will design new buildings without arrogance, buildings that are long-lasting, flexible, and adaptive to change over time.

Advocating for adaptive reuse is essential in promoting a sustainable future. So, rather than focusing on and lamenting the loss of buildings, I will instead champion the innovation and environmental benefits of repurposing existing structures. Every adaptive reuse project presents an opportunity to advance design, sustainability, and functionality in architecture.

Contributing to discussions and initiatives that promote a dynamic and sustainable built environment is crucial. The profession of architecture thrives on continuous learning and adaptation, reflecting its evolving nature. Emphasizing adaptive reuse not only preserves our cultural heritage but also paves the way for a more sustainable future.

Courting Aesthetics

Detail view of the new court design's "missing man" formation of flying ducks (photo from GoDucks.com)

As both a devoted fan of the Oregon Ducks and an architect, I eagerly follow developments related to the university’s athletics facilities. For better or worse, the Ducks have become the poster child for lavish spending and trend-setting accommodations for its varsity sports. The latest such improvement is the revamping of Matthew Knight Arena’s Kilkenny Court playing surface, unveiled by the university last week.(1)

The new design has sparked enthusiastic reactions from the Ducks’ fan base, prompting me to ponder whether something as physically shallow as a painted court surface truly contributes to the aesthetic perception of an architectural space, specifically the interior of a basketball arena.

The saying "beauty is only skin deep" suggests that we shouldn’t assign much importance to outward appearances as they merely mask inner qualities. Architects have long grappled with this notion and its impact on how people perceive a building’s design. This struggle moved to the forefront during the ascendency of Modernism during the 20th century as designers eschewed applied ornament in favor of an analytical and functional approach to the creation of architecture. The belief was ornamentation belonged to the past and that a new aesthetic language based on simplicity and purity of form is morally superior. This was the dominant canon for many years. While Modernism has since made room for aesthetic pluralism, most architects will still contend their focus is not upon surface appearances. So, what should we make of the average person’s natural and visceral response to first impressions? To what extent should we credit aspects of a design’s success to elements that are at most skin-deep? In the case of the Ducks’ new court design, the simple answer is “a lot.” 

The new floor design (photo from GoDucks.com)

Spearheaded by Van Horne Brands, the new Kilkenny Court blends innovation with tradition. The visually striking design evokes a sense of place and history, while reimagining the “Deep in The Woods” theme of Knight Arena’s original court design. The centerpiece is a prominent “O” logo, encircled by the tree imagery, which is more transparent (and green!) than the court’s much-derided first iteration. As before, the use of tree graphics reinforces connections to the local landscape, as well as referencing Oregon’s 1939 NCAA championship men’s basketball squad (“The Tall Firs”). The new design also honors the arena's namesake, Matthew Knight (who tragically died at the age of 34 in a scuba diving accident), with subtle yet meaningful elements like the "missing man" formation of flying ducks near each baseline. This tribute adds emotional depth to the court and enriches the overall experience of attending a game by conveying a story, values, and emotions. Spectators entering the arena are immersed in a visual narrative that connects them to the local landscape and Oregon’s heritage, creating a unique and memorable experience.

Having attended many games at Matthew Knight Arena since its opening in 2011, I know firsthand how the court’s design can enhance or detract from the overall atmosphere. A problem with the original scheme (which I did not like) was that its brown and ochre graphics suggested wildfire, drought or insect-ravaged woods rather than a thriving stand of evergreens. Another problem was how overly intricate and murky the tree imagery was, detracting from the clarity and simplicity some observers prefer in sports arenas. The fact the old court rendered the game lines illegible did not help. The best that could be said about the old court was that it was a conversation starter.

MKA's original floor design (my photo).

From what I’ve seen online, the shift to the more vibrant aesthetic for the floor while carrying over elements from the previous design is being well-received by most Oregon fans. I suspect this is due to both the extensive use of an Apple Green we readily associate with Oregon’s school colors as well as its deceiving simplicity. There’s a lot going on with the new floor, but this is achieved by means that are not visually distracting or headache-inducing. I like that the visual elements of the redesigned court not only captivate the eye but also engage the emotions, fostering a sense of unity and pride among players and fans alike. The visual appeal of the new court transforms the arena into a microcosm of Oregon's natural beauty and cultural identity.

One of architecture’s fundamental obligations is to delight those who experience it. The philosophy of aesthetics focuses on how beauty is perceived and appreciated through all our senses. While I have yet to see it in person, I believe the redesigned Kilkenny Court at Matthew Knight Arena does illustrate a meaningful connection between the spectators, the players, and the place they call home. Notwithstanding its superficiality, the painted surface of a basketball court contributes to the immersive experience and aesthetic perception of the arena’s architecture. As architects strive to prove their relevance to clients, it is important to highlight the significance of creating spaces that are pleasing to the senses in all respects. The new court design, albeit skin-deep, does this through its melding of imagery, tradition, and reverence, enhancing the identity and soul of the building.

(1)    Though not announced in the press release, rumor has it that volleyball will receive its own distinct floor design. The fresh looks herald Oregon’s debut as a new member of the Big Ten Conference.

Crafting Community Through Art

Lane Community College Health Professions Building nearing completion. The violet-blue stucco panels are where the intended murals will be located.

It is my privilege to be a member of the selection jury tasked with identifying the artist or team of artists who will create large-scale murals for the new Lane Community College Health Professions Building (HPB). The selection process, now underway, is both exhilarating and challenging. Fundamentally, the process for selecting the right muralist(s) for the building is about choosing work that will resonate with both the college and the greater community, tell a story, and enhance the campus in a meaningful way.

The 11-member jury includes representatives from the Health Professions Division, the Visual Arts Department, the Performing Arts Department, and the Facilities Management & Planning office, bringing together a wealth of perspectives to the table.

For my part, as the project manager for the building’s design team I will help ensure the architectural concept is fully realized. From the very beginning, the incorporation of large murals has been central to our design—integrated art that is both site-specific and holistic. Particularly for the exterior installations, which will be up to 30 feet tall, we envision work that will captivate viewers from a distance (such as drivers on 30th Avenue) and invite closer inspection. We want the future murals to serve both spatial and symbolic roles, inseparable from the building’s architecture and drawing people into their narrative. Unlike "plop art," which is often autonomous and detached from its surroundings, the murals will be conceived for, dependent upon, and inseparable from the building and its context. They will engage viewers, drawing them into the building's spatial narrative and creating a dialogue between the artwork and the architecture. The murals will be essential components of the building and a vital part of the structure’s identity.

Rendering of the building depicting the concept of mural art in the north portico.

The call for applications, detailing a $110,000 budget inclusive of all costs, emphasized the need for unity, a sense of welcome to the campus, and a representation of diversity, equity, and inclusion. These criteria ensure that the selected murals will not only beautify the HPB but also embody the values of Lane Community College.

The jury’s task began with a flood of creativity: 139 artists (or teams of artists) submitted portfolios through the art call management tool, CaFÉ. Despite its occasional clunkiness, CaFÉ is invaluable for its consistency and fairness, ensuring that every artist has an equal opportunity to present their work and that our reviews are standardized.

One of the most rewarding aspects of this process has been seeing the diversity and quality of the submitted portfolios. Each is a window into an artist’s world, showcasing their unique style, vision, and interpretation of what the murals could bring to the LCC campus. The initial review stage, in which we scored each submission with a simple “yes,” “no,” or “maybe,” allowed us to sift through this vast array of talent and creativity. Each "yes" or "maybe" represents a piece of art that could potentially transform the building and impact the community.

Examples from the submitted artists' portfolios:

As of this writing, we have successfully winnowed down the number of candidates from 139 to twenty-two. Discriminating between higher and lower-ranked submissions among the semi-finalists will require plenty of deliberation. The subjective nature of art means that what resonates with me might not with my fellow jurors. This is where the scoring system, now ranging from one to seven (seven being the most preferred), comes into play. While it will help in quantifying our preferences, it will also bring to light the nuanced differences in our perceptions and priorities.

We are meeting again next week to further reduce the list to three or four finalists, who we will then ask to present site-specific design proposals. This next phase is particularly exciting because it will involve seeing the artists’ visions come to life in the context of our building’s design. To support this, LCC will provide stipends to the shortlisted candidates, recognizing the time and effort required to develop their concepts. Our schedule will require delivery of the finalists’ proposals for our review sometime in September. If all goes to plan, the installation of the murals will occur a year from now during the 2025 summer break.

The final choice of the project’s muralist(s) will be a culmination of thorough review and collective deliberation. Personally, I find it incredibly rewarding to further contribute to a project that will leave a lasting mark on the LCC campus and beyond to the broader community. The murals that will eventually grace the HPB will be a testament to the diverse voices and visions that came together to make the building possible.

The goal of LCC’s public art selection process has been clear from the get-go: to use a credible methodology that emphasizes inclusion, community development, and consensus building. This is not just about choosing a muralist; it’s about engaging the community in a meaningful dialogue about art and its role in public spaces. It is a journey of discovery, collaboration, and celebration. It’s about finding art that will not only enhance the Health Professions Building but also enrich the lives of those who encounter it. As a member of the jury, I’m proud to be part of this journey.

Sweets Catalog

 

While cleaning out my office space at Robertson/Sherwood/Architects, I came across a well-preserved first edition of the Sweets Catalog. Comprised of a single, albeit hefty, volume, the Architectural Record Co. published the inaugural release of the catalog in 1906. My guess is the RSA copy is a reprint, though I could not find evidence within its covers that it is; if it is part of the original printing, that is remarkable. Discovering it prompted me to reflect on the evolution of construction practices and the enduring legacy of industry standards.
 
For more than a century, the print edition of the Sweets Catalog was a construction industry staple, providing architects, engineers, and contractors with comprehensive information on building products and materials. Its original aim was to centralize product details and serve as a critical industry resource. Beyond its role as a product directory, the Sweets Catalog facilitated direct communication between manufacturers and professionals, supporting informed decision-making. Editorial content provided additional insights into industry trends, technological advancements, and regulatory changes, enriching its utility beyond mere listings.
 

The "List of Classifications" in the 1906 version of the Sweets Catalog.

Crucially, the catalog would eventually adopt the Construction Specifications Institute’s MasterFormat standard to streamline product classification and enhance usability across construction documentation. Before MasterFormat, products were categorized broadly by function, lacking the structured clarity that later defined its organization.
 
By the time of its acquisition by McGraw-Hill Construction in 1998, the Sweets Catalog had expanded significantly, comprising 22 volumes totaling more than 5,000 pages. This growth reflected advancements in building materials and technologies, ensuring each edition included the latest innovations. The growth of the Sweets Catalog mirrored the broader expansion of the construction industry itself—from a modest start to a comprehensive industry resource.
 
My fascination with the Sweets Catalog began early on. For some reason, my local public library branch retained an annually renewed subscription to the Canadian edition of the catalog. I remember occasionally passing lazy Saturday afternoons when I was a child paging through the multiple volumes, familiarizing myself with their organization and the sheer breadth of available construction products. Later, upon assuming my employment with Bing Thom Architects in 1983, I acquired a complete set for my personal library, inheriting it upon delivery of the latest issue of the Sweets Catalog to the firm. If you needed further proof of how much of a nerd I was, simply picture me reading reams of arcane product data for “fun.” Ultimately, I discarded that set upon my permanent move to Eugene in 1988.

 

Cover of Volume 7 of the 2007 version of the Sweets Catalog.

Following the advent of the Internet, the format of the Sweets Catalog evolved from print to include digital versions, offering enhanced features such as searchable databases and downloadable CAD drawings. The shift towards digital tools led in due course to McGraw-Hill discontinuing the print edition in 2012, marking a transition in how users accessed and managed the information offered by the Sweets Catalog. McGraw-Hill relinquished its ownership in 2014, the service now under the banner of The Dodge Construction Network.
 
While the physical presence of the Sweets Catalog has faded, its impact endures through digital tools and standards that continue to shape the construction industry. It set benchmarks for comprehensive and accessible information, influencing how professionals continue to source and specify building products today.
 

Pages from the 1906 Sweets Catalog:

In essence, the Sweets Catalog typifies the evolution of construction documentation—adapting to technological advancements while maintaining a commitment to industry standards and best practices. Its transition from print to digital signifies broader shifts in information management, reflecting a dynamic industry that continues to innovate and evolve.
 
Discovering the RSA copy of the very first edition of the Sweets Catalog reminded me of its foundational role early in my career. An exemplary and historic resource, it stands as a testament to the value of organized, accessible information in the construction of our built environment—a legacy that resonates in our digital age.

17 Rules

A necessary rite of my transition into retirement has been to sort through a sizable collection of career-related personal documents I amassed during my 36 years with Robertson/Sherwood/Architects. I now wonder why I chose to save many of these and have no problem parting with them. Others are certainly worthy of preservation. One such document—a paper I suspect I acquired during a visit to the University of Oregon many years ago—follows here.

Written by former UO faculty member Mike Pease and dating to 1993, 17 Rules was his framework for a holistic approach to developing sustainable urban environments. Today, more than three decades on, the framework remains aspirational rather than fully realized, as most North American cities persist in their reliance on a car-centric infrastructure, fragmented public transportation systems, and their inability to adequately realize high-density, mixed-use developments. The enduring relevance of these guidelines underscores the still too often unmet need for innovative and committed efforts to transform our urban environments.

Mike: If you read this, my hope is you take no exception to me publishing your 17 Rules for online consumption. Saving my paper copy of your treatise was a no-brainer. Likewise, my decision to share it here with others was easy. Your words remain cogent and no less timely as when you first wrote them. 

   
17 Rules
 
Premise:
A good city is one that provides a wide range of amenities—jobs, friends, goods, services, cultural events, places to live—for all its citizens; a good sustainable city does this while using resources in a way that allows all others in the world, now and in the future, to enjoy these amenities too.
 
This project describes a path to follow toward the restructuring of our cities, to make them both good and sustainable.
 
Principles to define sustainable urban structure, and to serve as criteria for development:
 
1. Primarily Walking
Focus on walking as the primary means of getting around between the activities of daily life. Provide vehicular access only for service and emergency vehicles, and for public transit, but when these overlap with pedestrian paths, walking is the higher priority (except in emergencies).
 

EmX station (photo by Oregon Department of Transportation, CC BY 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0>, via Wikimedia Commons)

 
2.  Nearby Transit
Encourage walking and biking for longer trips, but be sure that there is also an efficient, comfortable public transit system within easy walking distance of all dwellings and businesses. Connect the local transit system to regional systems. Two things about the transit system to bear in mind:

• The location of transit stops has an important impact on community physical structure, especially when people are going to and from the transit system on foot. Use transit stops to reinforce important activity centers; avoid putting transit stops where they will siphon people away from activity centers.
• The permanence of the transit system also has an important impact on the community’s physical structure. A subway or elevated system, especially but even a streetcar, special paving for buses, or permanent shelters at stops represent long-term commitment to the transit systemin general, and to specific routes, thus providing a level of security for the transit-dependent investments that a more flexible system cannot.

3.  Access to Cars
Provide safe, protected car storage, easily accessible via public transit, and connecting with the regional road network. Include a convenient rent-a-car service, with vehicles of all kinds, in the car storage system.
 
4.  Delivery System
Provide a community-wide delivery system connecting all dwellings, businesses, and institutions, with connections to regional transit and the car storage system.
 
5.  Small Dwellings
Keep dwellings small but maximize the potential for individuation within the dwelling space. Make effective provision for privacy—within dwellings, but also in relation to neighbors and public.
 
6.  Shared Uses
Provide for many ways of using space and equipment jointly—privately, publicly, commercially—with a flexible, responsive support system that allows people to experiment with such arrangements.
 
7.  Common Land
Provide easy access to common land for both active and passive recreation.
 

Market Alley, Eugene (my photo)

8.  Local Economy
Support the development of a local economy, especially:

• By providing appropriate space with the community for permanent businesses and temporary markets, including low-cost spaces for start-up businesses—subsidized if necessary—and by allowing businesses to operate within dwellings.
• By creating a community employment service that connects local residents with local jobs and facilitates job training, including training and other support for new businesses.
• By providing a local information system, accessible in all homes and businesses, with current information about local goods and services.
• By providing land for agricultural production.

9.  Resourceful Construction
In all construction:

• Use local construction materials whenever possible.
• Minimize mechanical heating and cooling demands.
• Maximize use of natural light.

10.  Recycle
Provide a local system for recycling and reprocessing wastes, with provision for feeding recycled materials into local manufacturing enterprises. Design for potential reuse of space, materials, and equipment. Collect roof and site drainage for agricultural/landscape uses. Collect and reuse wastewater when safe to do so.
 
11.  Local Landscape
In landscaping, work with local materials—plants, soils, water, animal life—and local climate conditions.
 

Chicago Riverwalk (my photo)

These two are more subtle considerations that need to be kept in mind in all aspects of design:
 
12.  Good Places
Invest in making high quality public places. If the walks and plazas and parks and other public places are pleasant and comfortable, and if the investment in them clearly indicates that they are important places, this will help people to feel good about the time they spend there, and it will increase the use of those places.
 
13.  Visible Connections
Make environmental connections apparent. If people can see the way the rain is collected, then sent to feed the plants; if they can see the food they eat being grown, harvested, brought to market; if they can see the mining of the gravel that makes their concrete, or the felling and milling of the timber in their roofs, and the way those timbers support weight and send it to the ground; these connections help people understand their own relationship to the whole physical world. And that understanding helps to support the urge to live in an environmentally healthy way.
 

Bryant Park, New York City (my photo)

Finally, the places we’re talking about here should be desirable to a wide range of people—residents must not be required, or even pressured, to have a certain set of values as a precondition for membership. Toward that end:
 
14.  Open Society
Residents should feel free to associate with whomever they please, or with no one, at every scale of community. While the physical structure should support public social gatherings at many scales, it should not do so in ways that suggest that certain people are necessarily included in or excluded from being part. At the scale of individual buildings, residents should be free to make the boundary between public and private as hard or soft as they wish, but in the larger public domain physical or visual boundaries should be avoided that make distinctions between certain people and certain other people—at any scale.
 
15.   Personal Visions
At every scale, the community should create only those constraints that are essential to guarantee the city’s effectiveness as a good and sustainable place. Within those essential constraints residents should have as much freedom as possible to shape their own lives, and their environments, to fit their own visions.

 

Vancouver, B.C. (my photo)

16.   High Density
The more people there are in a community, the more complex that community is likely to be—in value systems, ethnic backgrounds, ages, interests, personalities—and the more likely any one person is to find kindred spirits, enjoyable activities, useful goods and services, satisfying work. Thus, within the constraints established above, find places for as many people as possible.
 
17.   Structure, Not Behavior
The primary focus for conservation of resources should be the structure and operation of the community as a whole. The community’s success in this regard should not be dependent on individual residents’ behavior.

 

*    *    *    *    *    *

 
These rules are often connected in long strings of vital links. For example, 5. Small Dwellings, will not work without 6. Shared Uses, but Shared Uses won’t work unless the movement system is 1. Primarily Walking, which in turn depends on 2. Nearby Transit, 3. Access to Cars, 4. Delivery System, and several others (including 5. Small Dwellings). The 17 rules should be seen as a whole, interdependent set, not a cafeteria of choices.
 
The rules are deliberately broad, requiring interpretation, allowing adaptation to differing physical and cultural contexts and differing visions. Yet any interpretation, if it takes all 17 rules seriously, will lead to development of a community that will be a good place to live, and one that will be far more efficient in its use of resources than are car-based settlements.

Mike Pease 1993