The Balancing Act

"Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance, order, rhythm and harmony." -Thomas Merton

Balance is a powerful word. It can be both elusive and difficult to achieve, yet holds the key to unlocking peacefulness, and harmony. Architecture is deeply aware of balance as it not only keeps structures from collapsing by balancing weights and loads, but it also seeks a harmonious composition of the spaces, and their facades as it balances architectural features, volumes, color, etc.

Balance is understood when we see Stonehenge

Balance is understood when we see a ballerina on Pointe

Balance is understood through the teachings of yoga

And with that sense of balance, even when precarious, we feel a sense of rightness, of harmony, equilibrium, and steadiness that resonates with us.

Balance plays an integral role in the design of our spaces. As architects, we balance the desire for light-filled spaces with the need for privacy; the use of new bold materials with a sense of comfort and warmth; vibrant lively design within a soothing environment.

Our personal lives too have experienced the importance of balance. We were first introduced to it as we tried to sit up as babies and balance our heads upright. Certainly wobbly at first, we unknowingly learned to “balance our weight,” thus understanding point and counterpoint. Then as toddlers, walking gave us an often rude lesson on balance. Sometimes painful falls were our teachers as we naturally got a little bruised up with some of our early balancing acts.

In adulthood, the search for balance is a life-long endeavor. As parents, we try to balance our work and our family time. When one area of our life becomes too dominant, the other parts suffer as we fail to strike that balance. Many of us stay on the endless treadmill that we think will lead us to a happiness triggered by success and achievement. But, we often find that we are running aimlessly and truly getting no closer to our pursuit of happiness, or we exhaust ourselves in the process. Without balance, we feel unsteady.

In a generation of excess and instant gratification, capturing and maintaining that sense of balance is a true feat. It is much easier to allow oneself to be pulled into something all-consuming, where discipline and balance are disregarded. It is with far more awareness and dedication that we make our way towards the beauty and poise of balance.

So, look within to understand the elements that are in need of balance in your life: the balance between your driven, success-oriented, energy and the quiet, reflective, stillness that resides within. Allow the balance into your life, so that the quiet voice of introspection and peacefulness can surface and be heard.

Only a life that is balanced is genuinely poised for happiness.

Change...inside and out

This past week researching for a City presentation, I discovered an anonymous, yet poignant quote:

“Change is inevitable, but growth is intentional.”

In regards to architecture, this is particularly true. The spaces in which we live are forever changing. It is impossible for them to stay entirely still and static. Even without purposeful changes to your built environment, then at the very least, the space is changing by aging or simply from use and wear.

For many of us, as we live in and utilize our homes, we enjoy the vitality of making small changes continuously. Perhaps you enjoy changing the throw pillows to a new color scheme, painting a wall a new color, adding different candles, prints, or accessories to introduce a change. Even adding a plant or replanting can alter the space. And for others, who associate change with discomfort, leaving it exactly as it is, and maintaining the familiarity of it, is more important and less disruptive to a routine.

Regardless of your preference, our surroundings evolve. As the quote says, “Change is inevitable.” So we can choose to either let the changes just evolve through wear and over time, or we can embrace the opportunity at different stages in our lives to instigate a change and revitalize our homes, and in so doing, ourselves. Typically, we will reach a point where we have outgrown parts of our home. Perhaps as we grow up, the design aesthetic and style no longer accurately reflect our personality, or the way that we would utilize a space has changed because our family has grown up.

And this is the very key to remodeling.

Remodeling, however big or small, has the power to transform a space. Recently I just completed an interior remodel to a home that I had originally designed approximately 13 years ago. At that time, we had gutted everything except for the kitchen, since it had been remodeled by the previous owner.
We had actually demolished the entire house surrounding the kitchen, plastic-wrapped and sealed the kitchen, and furiously fended off El Niño to preserve it. Now, in 2011 my client asked me to redo the kitchen. The transformation that we did was truly remarkable! With the kitchen at the very core of the house, it is now a spectacular focal point.

The energy of the new aesthetic made its way into the living room as well...

This idea of transformation and change is something that we do personally to ourselves several times throughout our lives. When we go to college, there is a tremendous change. Similarly when we have kids, and again when the nest is empty, we transform our lives, often redefining ourselves. Though it can certainly introduce stress, uncertainty, pushing past our comfort zone of familiarity, it inspires tremendous possibility and creativity.

And maybe that is the key to staying inspired, to never stay too long in that familiar comfort zone; to always look at ourselves and our surroundings with fresh eyes. People and places are never too static to change or adapt.

And if we can look at our homes, places of business, places that we see or frequent every day with refined clarity, perhaps we can allow ourselves the freedom to think out of the box; to imagine new possibilities.
So if you feel hesitant with the discomfort of any changes in your life, remember…

“If we don't change, we don't grow. If we don't grow, we aren't really living.” -Gail Sheehy

“A home should be a reflection of the spirit that lives within.”

So much of our built world has a “generic” sense, neutrality that attempts to create a universal acceptance or likability. We often choose conventionality in order to make our spaces, our homes neutral enough or mainstream enough to be liked by all. But in that “play it safe” approach, we tend to create impersonal spaces that can lack character and personality…specifically—ours.

I am sure we have all walked through countless homes for sale, and have seen the “vanilla” building design. It is usually the “safe” beige color inside and out, with limited elements that would draw attention. The features follow current mainstream trends, and in that predictable design, the result can feel uninteresting and lacking in depth. There is a detached and somewhat stale feeling to the house that shows no sign of who lives within.

And truthfully, it seems to be unnatural. We should always have an impact on where we live, and in turn, it should have an impact on us. It should be representative of who we are, and should naturally reflect our personality. Whether it does so by displaying our tastes and aesthetic style, or by housing special images or mementos with personal significance to us, it should speak to us and create an environment that is both inviting and defining.So as you look around your home right now, does it speak to you? Does it feel like YOUR home, or could it just as well be anyone’s? Do you feel an emotional attachment to it?

There are so many unique ways to inject personality and life into a house, and in so doing to make it a home that speaks to you.

Pictures are powerful images that connect us to places and people that mean something to us. Surrounding ourselves with these images gives our home vivacity and depth. Whether you place them on a console table, the mantle, or fill a wall, use different frames that are similar in color. This gives variety while still feeling cohesive.

Visiting new lands can be exhilarating, educational, and enlightening. And bringing a part of that culture or land back to our homes is a way to maintain those memories. Why not take a wall and decorate it with colorful or antique framed maps of the places you have visited, or plan to visit? Or, create display cases of unusual objects, souvenirs, crafts, or art pieces that have personal meaning from diverse travels.

Kids artwork, no matter how “artistic” always holds significant feelings and memories for us. Rather than storing them all in a box high up in the garage, why not devote a wall to kids paintings over the years? You can help to unify the different frames by painting a “panel” in a unique color as a backdrop for them; for example ,a light slate blue wall, or sage green with black frames of various artwork. They will feel unified, while maintaining a playful aesthetic.


So today when you walk into your home, take stock…look around. Does it reach up to greet you? Do you feel your personality embedded within? Allow your home to surround you with the kind of comfort we get when we are with someone who truly knows us. Let your home reflect the spirit that lives within.

Complexity

Architecture becomes interesting when it explores the idea of putting two or more things together, and experiencing the result. It can be the creative spark that happens with the juxtaposition of elements to create a new understanding, new meaning, and new vision.

When we hold two opposing or conflicting thoughts in our heads at the same time, our thoughts have more depth and complexity than if one simple thought resides. Pairing two complementary or different elements can create something entirely new. For example, when we pair a good wine with food, what we enjoy is a complexity of flavor that brings out something new in the wine. Often the profundity in design is similarly the result of a merging or collaboration of elements that encourages us to see anew.

In the design of architecture, we can put two materials together that we might not ordinarily see. Merging the two, juxtaposing them, allows each one to comment on the other. For example, stainless steel next to smooth stucco—each one can be a beautiful finish, each one feels smooth, but the coolness of the steel emphasizes the warmth and tactility of the pottery-like stucco.

So let’s take this a step or two further…

How do we pair things in our homes in order to create something new? And how do we pair things in our lives in hopes of obtaining an even more interesting result?
Combining several different textures in your home can be an easy solution to inviting that complexity in. For example, smooth varnished wood shelves against a rough stone wall. Or, satin and silk throw pillows upon a textured couch…a thick wool rug lying on a smooth polished concrete floor. Merging the two, and highlighting the contrast, makes each one individually more interesting.

Now for the more difficult question…How do we bring that depth and complexity to our lives? When we get accustomed to doing the same thing day in and day out…we begin to blur our vision. We become less and less observant and less present. If we were to inject something new and complementary to our routine, perhaps we would begin to take notice of that, and everything it contrasted. Perhaps the pairing would bring renewed awareness. For example, if you spend a lot of time talking on the phone, socializing at work or conversing with your kids and family once you get home, try to carve out a time for true silence. Whether it is a walk on the beach, a meditative pause, or a time to read or reflect, you will sense the profound quiet and stillness. The contrast of this tranquility to the typical mundane routine and chaos of your life will bring a new awareness you did not know.

For some of us, watching television every evening becomes habitual, and while we are tuning in to our favorite show, we are all too often, tuning out. Maybe try sitting on the porch or in the backyard with a glass of wine whether alone or with your partner. Or choose eating dinner outside on the patio by candlelight. This can add the depth and complexity that is lacking by contrasting that which has become all too familiar and ordinary.

"Abandon the urge to simplify everything, to look for formulas and easy answers, and to begin to think multidimensionally, to glory in the mystery and paradoxes of life, not to be dismayed by the multitude of causes and consequences that are inherent in each experience -- to appreciate the fact that life is complex."
— M. Scott Peck

Steps

"It is good to have an end to journey towards,
but it is the journey that matters in the end."
~ Ursula K. Le Guin

Life can be a rat race.
However having an alarming aversion to rats, I prefer to call it a hamster race. We can feel like that little hamster that is running in circles on that wheel. We run, we run faster, we get out of breath, we get off for a little while…but eventually we are back on, running in circles once again.

We want so badly to get that promotion, that degree, or that quaint house on Wisteria lane that we focus so intently on reaching that goal, we can lose sight of our journey. Frequently plagued by the stress and anxiety intrinsic to the hamster race, we often wish to accelerate our life just to get there, whatever there might be.

But, wise philosophers, therapists, Zen masters, and every self help book on the shelf, tell us that we need to slow down and be in the moment to enjoy the present. In other words, life is not simply a means to an end….the journey matters.

In architecture, a staircase is all about journey. It is an architectural element enabling us to get from one level to another. While it serves this purpose, it can also be a rich opportunity to offer us volume, dimension, and an entirely new vantage point. Rather than solely providing a utilitarian and practical function, a staircase can be aesthetically transformed into an interactive sculpture that encourages a dynamic change in perspective.

A staircase embodies dramatic architectural possibility.

The first step is to make the steps comfortable. When stairs are too steep (high riser) or the tread too short (where you can barely place your foot on it without feeling clumsy), there is an awkwardness, and we feel out of breath as we climb our way to the top. Stairs can also feel confining and claustrophobic, making us feel uneasy and unsettled. The other day, I was in a medical building, and rather than take the elevator to the second level, I decided to take the stairs. It turns out that the staircase was actually a stairwell. I opened the door and stepped in, and instantly got this nervous go-as-fast-as-you-can feeling, and hurry-and-get-the-heck-out-of-here vibe. Checking over my shoulder certain that there would be a creepy stalker, I took the stairs two at a time…Clearly I was not enjoying the journey!

The second step is to bring sculptural form that is not only striking to look at, but beautiful to experience. As we ascend the stairs, do we get the sense that we are perched above, hovering between floors? Does the shape of the staircase feel dynamic and energetic? Is there a gracefulness reminiscent of flight?

The aesthetic power of a staircase can be captivating. With its quiet drama, it can profoundly elevate our experience, making our journey matter.

Passageways

Passageways mark our transitions from one place to another.
In architecture they are arches, doorways, entrances, opening, foyers, gates, lobbies, or porches. They bring awareness that we are making a transition.

We may each be going through our own transitions; embarking on a new job, beginning a marriage, or ending one, going off to college, becoming a parent, moving into a new house or to a new city. Our lives are made up of many transitions all pieced together.

There are so many conflicting feelings that are attached to these passageways: fear, anxiety, possibly excitement, and hopefulness. We often feel a combination of emotions as we are passing through to what is unfamiliar, and that may bring confusing discomfort and veiled uneasiness.

Aware of our own apprehension, we strive to make our passageways inviting, unique, and memorable.

They should be to scale. When passages are massive and overwhelming, they do not take into account the human scale. In essence they fail to acknowledge the human spirit. That can make us feel too small and powerless. Instead, a doorway needs to invite us through feeling safe, and able to walk through with confidence and certainty.

Passageways should be inviting and interesting. While we have our conventional doors and standard opening sizes, why not redefine those? Still marking our transition, a door can be surprising in size or unexpected in shape. This invites our attention and coaxes us to pass through.

And lastly, passageways should pay homage to the transition. When we try to ignore the reality of our transition, we awkwardly stumble with its abruptness. Our awareness of the change that is upon us, recognizing its significance, and understanding our trepidation helps us to welcome the passage.

Whatever passage you might be approaching, make it memorable.

Architecture as Habitable Sculpture

So much of what we acquire or admire in life are things we need to survive such as food and shelter; or things which give us a sense of status and importance, such as racy cars and fashion couture. Uniquely, art serves neither purpose. It is simply pure beauty for our eyes and nourishment for our souls.

“Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.”
-Thomas Merton

With so many facets to the art world, architecture is unlike most other disciplines. Architecture must not solely be an object to be admired from afar, but rather, be sculptural art to be walked in and through, it is to be touched and used, it is to shelter and protect. True architecture engages the viewer or visitor – it enhances and deepens the experience of a space. That experience is as important as the aesthetic result.

“There are three forms of visual art: Painting is art to look at, sculpture is art you can walk around, and architecture is art you can walk through.”
-Dan Rice

By creating sculpture that we inhabit, architecture resonates with us, because it identifies and pays particular attention to the very needs we seek as human beings. Often what we appreciate in architecture is what we strive or search for in our own lives:

Excitement,
Security,
Strength,
Safety,
Simplicity,
Ease,
Tranquility,
Serenity,
Endurance,
Longevity.

By speaking directly to our intrinsic needs, architecture becomes a human experience. Perhaps that is why we feel a quiet understanding when we enter a powerful, awe-inspiring space. Without quite defining the elements of its beauty, we intrinsically know that we feel connected to it. We feel our awareness awakened as the space somehow acknowledges our human need.

We feel the tranquility...

or the commanding strength...

or the pure simplicity of the space...

It is not always something easily verbalized...
but it is usually something felt with genuine force.