art institute

The Art Institute finished sorting through all the material that we donated to them a few months ago. Here it is in its new home in their temporary storage in South Chicago:

It will eventually make its way into flat files and more long term homes. The bulk of his archive is here and I was am pleased so much of it found a home together. I was surprised to see they kept a number of his art catalogs and publications. It turns out artists that he gathered catalogs from on his European trips were not represented in their collection.

 

I did need to sort through what was left and decide what to bring home.

In the center of this photo is what is coming home with us. I sorted the work in this warehouse space with the empty cases. The Lincolnwood houses (covered in an earlier post) are coming home with us, as well as a number of unbuilt designs for apartment buildings on trace, a couple renderings I did not see on my first run through, and some other houses I am not sure I caught in the inventory. Now I have two fat portfolios under our bed and a couple tubs of drawings...not bad. I definitely have some room for the Gute in my studio.

I had an epic drive home because of terrible traffic, so I took Chicago's westernmost  Boulevards north through six glorious parks. I am in love with this city. So much so that I persist in driving down there. Once I get my new bike, watch out: I'll be gone all day.

tomato farm next summer

Here is our new white roof. Yup, we'll need sunglasses up there! But I think things that like heat will grow like gangbusters. We'll have to see what the roof can handle. After nine months with a leaky roof, it is such a good feeling to see this new one go on.

the roof

One of the many reasons that we hired Wilkinson Blender Architects is their inclination to do roof gardens wherever possible. Our house had a pull down stair that accessed the roof, but not much going on up there. There was once an outdoor shower, and the architect envisioned much more. In this drawing from 1957 you can see the angled 'dog house' as a triangular wedge. It held the ceiling height for the stair going up, and then there was some kind shelter when the house was complete (you can see that in the image in the banner on this blog).

We are making the stair a permanent stair and adding a little bit of a room and deck up there. The intention stated for permit is access and storage for roof maintenance (our air conditioners will be up there) but we are squeezing in a little more function: a small place to work for Reed and a small deck to sit on. Over the course of a couple very rainy weeks, the carpenters have created the opening and built the shelter. From the inside, I had not anticipated that it would act like a new skylight.

This wall will be all bookshelves, as high and as wide as we can reach. The stair will be a 'secret' stair. You won't see when you look at it from a right angle but it will appear when you turn to head upwards. I can't find any of the renderings the architects sent, but here is the inspiration image that they passed on.

Here's a shot of the interior of the penthouse, with Greg, our architect/GC checking out the view from Reed's desk.

 

And here is a view from the across the street. Here is the old doghouse for comparison:

The new roof is going on this week. It will be white material, as opposed to the black composition material that is on there now. It did occur to us that we will need sunglasses on a bright day up there. Maybe we will eventually cover it up with photovoltaic panels! or sedum trays! we'll see what the roof can hold and what the budget and climate will allow once we are all moved in.

a new archive

I thought I would write a bit about my new archive, the Chicago Artists Archive. I have a show in September and October of 2010 at the Harold Washington Center of the Chicago Public Library. Artists who show at the library are included in an archive of over 9000 Chicagoland artists that is held and maintained in the Visual and Performing Arts Library.

October is Chicago Artists Month, and the theme is the City as Studio. Chicago has been having a year long dialog about the artist studio in all its forms. Since I have been studio-less and have been working with archives all year, I thought I should treat the library as my studio and use it as a place to make my work. I am reviewing the entire artist archive while I make work for the show. So far I have reviewed A-C and gotten through 2 of the twelve file drawers of archival material.

Part of me wonders at myself, driving into the city to sit in the library, alone, looking through drawers and drawers of artist materials mostly from 1940-2000. I mean really: I spent my fall, alone, in a cold studio going through each page of one architect's projects and papers from 1950-1990. Why not go out and meet real live artists? I am much more inclined to the former, and I have always struggled with that. I love that I can sit and look through materials during the day while my kids are at school. I get to mull over the rich lives of hundreds of local people. I am getting an education in Chicago art history. And if I don't do it now, I will never take the time to do it. Hooray for sabbaticals!

The archive covers artists well known and not so. Faculty from all the local universities and art schools are represented, as well as every variety of sculptor, painter, printmaker, community activist, artist-run gallery, and artist working out in the suburbs. I am, of course, particularly drawn to the latter. Artists who grew up in Chicago and worked elsewhere are included (like Judy Chicago) and artists who moved to Chicago and work here now are included as well. Some artists built themselves into the archive with exhaustive letters and documentation they sent to the librarian/curators. Other artists are included unbeknownst to them, via all kinds of coverage in the local press, from reviews to obituaries.

Am I looking for anything in particular? Yes and no. I am looking at the whole archive because I don't want to miss anyone. Ideas and history are everywhere. I am writing down fragments of artist statements and the names of artists whose work touches me. I am writing down recurring galleries and art critics who I want to trace through the archive and through time. And I am writing down adjacencies: when the juxtaposition of two artists is poignant and the only reason for their relationship is that their last names are similar or the same.

I grapple with a fear of failing at my own artistic endeavor: not working hard enough, or publicly enough, or honestly enough. When I sit down at the archive, at first I feel heavy with the burden of so many artists represented by a single piece of writing or photograph of their work. But then I keep reading and see signs of each artist working with clear intention and purpose. Why do we do it? Because we can, and we are driven to, and it helps keep us fulfilled. And why do librarians, archivists, and art lovers adopt our things and our narrative and attend to them? That is one question guiding the drawings I am making.

Are there lessons in the archive? One for sure: keep making beautiful printed ephemera and send it to people who are thoughtful savers. Otherwise archivists print out ugly website versions of your show announcements on archival paper and THAT is your legacy. Shiver.

Treehouse

Our house is a treehouse, and it especially feels like one now with all the windows removed.

On nice days the carpenters pull down all the masonite and it is open all the way through. It is quite a feeling!

We got our letter today about our bid for the state tax freeze application. At this stage, they do not feel our house qualifies because of the changes we made to the front windows (see this post on structure) and the amount of removal we have done on the interior. We anticipated this, but I am still a little disappointed, mostly from a preservation perspective.

After going through this process, I wish there was a middle ground, where a more moderate tax incentive is offered to homeowners who preserve a period structure on the exterior. The interior preservation is so worthwhile for posterity, but is not always in the homeowner's best interest. For contemporary use, resale value, and to carefully update our home to current code, we elected to make some changes that are significant on the inside. But on the outside, the house is virtually unchanged and will be the same as it has been for fifty years from the perspective of the Village or the neighbors. And I think it is worth providing an incentive to keep the variety of styles, ages, and housing types in our Village and the neighboring cities and communities. Without any incentive to preserve the building, it makes financial sense to raze homes and build anew, so that the structure, insulation, wiring, ducting can be brand new and up to current standards.

Once the project is complete, we may go back to them and show what we have done and ask them to consider our application again. And at the very least I'll write a letter, and renew my membership in the local preservation organizations that are fighting this fight every day.

Gutnayer and FLW, continued.

You'll see in an earlier post that within a year of Gutnayer's arrival in the US he made a pilgrimage to meet Frank Lloyd Wright. I am slowly getting to know FLW's work, and am seeing more and more connections between what the Gute began doing in his residential practice in the 50s and what FLW had established in his practice in the 40s. As is pointed out on Wikipedia about FLW, a lot of the innovations laid out in the Usonian houses and Wright's ideas about suburban homes were picked up by developers and architects in the 1950s. PrairieMod posted a link to this Illinois farmhouse by FLW, and I was struck by the eave:

from prairiemod via dailyherald.com

because of the similarity of the later eave design by the Gute:

on this house in Lincolnwood ( JMG drawing above and my photograph below)

or this house in Highland Park

I had not really realized how much Gutnayer might have been influenced by the Usonian houses. Many of the Usonian houses were laid out on a regular module. Gutnayer has one built project here in Chicago that is designed on a strict grid and built: I am going to go down and take a look and actually knock on the door, which I have not really done yet with his residences.

Interestingly, there is one site plan (in the materials that went to the Art Institute) for a development in Westchester County by Gutnayer and his brother in the early 50s. Gutnayer's brother was also an architect and practiced in New York City. I am interested in researching this a bit because of the proximity to Pleasantville, NY location of the Usonia homes. Not to mention all the significant modern architecture in Westchester County. Oh, if I only knew or cared about any of this while my grandparents were alive and we were in Westchester on a regular basis!

skylights

The house is being tuckpointed and getting new mortar right now. It looks great: like it got a shower and a haircut. The front window got its new sill. You can see the new columns lining up with the concrete supports below. Windows just got ordered, so it will be a few weeks before these openings are filled with new glass.

Inside all the window openings are covered with masonite, so the house is only lit by the skylights. These photos were all taken without a flash.

I remember Reed telling me when he looked at the house there were very few functioning lightbulbs and that it took him awhile to realize that the spaces were all lit naturally from above. The house was designed with seven skylights.

Our kids standing under the skylight in the kitchen. Poor Will is being required to stand for a photo when all he wants to do is get to the porta potty outside. Ella is plugging her nose: with the masons and the carpenters working it is pretty dusty.

There are skylights in the two adjacent bathrooms. We thought we were losing them but re-design recently salvaged them. And now that I see this, I am really, really glad.

Here is the master bathroom with its skylight.

and the master closet with its skylight.

All these photos were taken without a flash, so the only light source is the not-so-big skylights. It was quite beautiful to see how much natural light comes in from just those seven openings in the roof.

now you see it now you don't

We were up in Deerfield, IL (west of Highland Park) for a birthday party dropoff yesterday and so I grabbed my list and camera before we left the house. Sad results mostly: the streets we visited had many new houses intermingled with 50s ranch houses, which is the sign of teardowns. Since Gutnayer only listed the street and not the address in most cases, we can only guess where the houses might have been.
We did find one though, and as usual its a thrill to come around a corner and see one of his signature eaves.

That's Reed on the right, on his first house scouting mission.

This house is currently a rental and had a for sale sign on it. When I jumped out of the car and started taking pictures, a guy walked out of the neighboring house and said he owned it, but it isn't for sale: the sign is for the new construction that will go up in its place.

You can see the redwood pattern on the eave that has been painted over.

This house was on a nice big lot and had big windows on both sides of a sunken living room. I wanted to go in but babies were sleeping so we couldn't see the inside. I am going to contact the developer and see if I can get inside before it gets torn down to take some pictures and hopefully salvage some Gutnayer details.

finishes!

There are a few big drivers in figuring out finishes on our project. One is the fireplace, which is pink, white and grey stone. The second is all the natural light coming in from all directions. A third is the ceiling, which is currently stained off white and will be either given another layer of lighter, brighter white stain or painted, probably not hard core white, but a warm off white or off grey, something light but peaceful. Here's our current flooring material, which is kind of a light jade green:

It is a 12x12 cork tile with a vertical grain to it and a green wash. We were unanimous in our last site meeting that this is THE ONE. We can afford it, it is sustainable, and we can put it everywhere. The brown wood stain swatch is the IKEA cabinets fronts that we are using in the kitchen. And on the ceiling. More on that later!

new structural connections

Our house is a frame box sitting on top of steel beams that land on concrete columns. The architects are reinforcing and strengthening some of those connections with new steel posts in a range of places in the house, but particularly on the wall with the ribbon window.

 The pink spray paint squares on the floor show where the new steel is. You can see the new beams being added as structural support where there were once walls running across. You can also see the new header on the ribbon window and the new columns running down through the floor.

 Here you can see the new columns coming down through the floor and landing on the concrete columns just adjacent to the steel beam. These new columns change the rhythm of the window pattern in the front, which is fine with us but probably does in our potential for historic rehabilitation. We're good with it. Making the house structurally sound for the next phase of its life is our goal. As we get further into the process, it is easier to let go of some of the issues of original intent. To say that raises lots of interesting thoughts. It is true, however and the house is really starting to feel like ours, and I can feel our architect's design intentions coming alive. As we keep saying, we think the Gute would approve.

new steel in the kitchen going right down through the subfloor to the steel beam underneath.

 Here the structural engineers are reinforcing beams that span a long distance
(our two car garage entrance under the kitchen) by adding layers of steel.

 

under construction

This looks so tiny: blogs are so vertical!
ctrl-click on it to see it better in a new window. 

We (the architects, the carpenters, the clients) love the house wide open like this while everything is still studs. Here I am standing in the kitchen, looking south. From left to right the spaces are: dining room with screen porch beyond, master bedroom, hearth, family room, second dining area. The dark posts are new steel and are permanent. Some of the light posts are temporary support and will be removed. That beautiful minimal box houses the piano. I like how it ended up partnered with the void of the circular stair to the right of the fireplace.

Certificate of Rehabilitation

So we are going ahead with an application for a certificate of rehabilitation from the state. Property taxes are pretty steep here, and once the valuation on the house goes up we could be looking at significant savings over the next ten years if we freeze at the lowest valuation (next year). Also, I am interested and curious to have a conversation with the state architects about our project, and to determine how the changes we are making to the house do or do not fall in line with expectations for historical preservation. Our house is just a baby in historical preservation terms and modern and traditional architecture diverge in many ways. Here are the guidelines:

Illinois Standards for Rehabilitation

1. A property shall be used for its historic purpose or be placed in a new use that requires minimal change to the defining characteristics of the building and its site and environment.

Good on this one. It's a house, we are using it as a house.

2. The historic character of a property shall be retained and preserved. The removal of historic materials or alteration of features and spaces that characterize a property shall be avoided.

We are removing elements and altering spaces, and this gave me pause. So far, however, conversations about this with the state are relatively positive. It seems preserving a certain proportion of critical elements in public spaces and the house overall is key.

3. Each property shall be recognized as a physical record of its time, place, and use. Changes that create a false sense of historical development, such as adding conjectural features or architectural elements from other buildings, shall not be undertaken.

I love the purity of this one. Absolutely.

4. Most properties change over time; those changes that have acquired historic significance in their own right shall be retained and preserved.

This is the one I have been thinking about the most. We are the first ones to alter this house after the original owner and builder. If we think 200 years down the line, our architects are the ones who are making changes that will acquire that layer of historical significance. How many Villa Savoye-inspired rocket ranches on pilotis are there in Illinois, anyway? The changes they are making, particularly lining up the structural grid (more on this in the next post) are important. I feel we are making the house more true to its bones.

5. Distinctive features, finishes, and construction techniques or examples of craftsmanship that characterize a property shall be preserved.

Note that it does not state explicitly that they need to remain in place. We have removed the paneling and light fixtures to re-wire and re-insulate. Virtually all the material in good condition will be re-used and much will go back in the same place it came from: sustainability, design and budget practicality all align here. However, some materials have been removed, and some material will be installed in new locations.

6. Deteriorated historic features shall be repaired rather than replaced. Where the severity of deterioration requires replacement of a distinctive feature, the new feature shall match the old in design, color, texture, and other visual qualities and, where possible, materials. Replacement of missing features shall be substantiated by documentary, physical, or pictorial evidence.

Luckily we do have pictorial and drawing evidence for the few removed elements (from our time and the Gutnayer's time), so one could return the house to an earlier state if desired.

7. Chemical or physical treatments, such as sandblasting, that cause damage to historic materials shall not be used. The surface cleaning of structures, if appropriate, shall be undertaken using the gentlest means possible.

Yup.

8. Significant archaeological resources affected by a project shall be protected and preserved. If such resources must be disturbed, mitigation measures shall be undertaken.

I wonder if the vintage Sunfish that is still on the side of the house qualifies as an archeological resource.

Sunfish, anyone?

9. New additions, exterior alterations, or related new construction shall not destroy historic materials that characterize the property. The new work shall be differentiated from the old and shall be compatible with the massing, size, scale, and architectural features to protect the historic integrity of the property and its environment.

I appreciate this idea. So architectural and modern in its essence—what is new should be new—related, compatible, but having its own distinct design.

10.New additions and adjacent or related new construction shall be undertaken in such a manner that if removed in the future, the essential form and integrity of the historic property and its environment would be unimpaired.

Nice and logical. Touch lightly and make future restoration easier to do. Our additions touch lightly in this way.

We still aren't sure if we will get it: we won't know for a few months and the state has asked for more drawings. At this point it is difficult to predict what will happen with taxation rates and property values, so figuring out cost/benefit is a bit...speculative. We maintain the attitude that we will continue to do what is best for the house, preserving as much of its character and material as we can while shoring it up and making it ours.

the archive moves to new homes

I've been on a bit of a hiatus with a spring break trip to Berkeley and tax time duties taking away from blog time. Two weeks ago, the papers finally left. As the date drew closer we scanned some pieces, some wonderful curators came to the house to collect materials, and some I delivered out to the local historical societies on a blustery winter day.

The bulk of the collection is going to the Chicago Art Institute Ryerson and Burnham Libraries. Drawings are also now housed at the Evanston History Center, The Highland Park Historical Society, the Wilmette Historical Museum, the Glenview History Center and the Glencoe Historical Society. A truck came from the Art Institute and two guys loaded up the collection to take to their storage facility south of downtown. Can you imagine having that job, gathering the things that eventually make their way into the Art Institute's collection in any area? When I asked if I could take pictures, Billy said most people do and that he was used to it. He also said he was pretty photogenic.

I'm going to indulge in a little before and after:

 the store room, before (with architect's drawings in tubes above the cubbies)
and after (studio, here I come!)

 the architect's studio before and after.
We will be using this as a 'multipurpose room'
which means we really don't want to put any furniture in it.

Here's the big truck.

The drawings looked awfully fragile strapped into the back of that bad boy. All I could think about was driving one of those trucks in college when I worked catering and how it bobbed and weaved as I drove around the Santa Cruz campus. But it sounds like they got there safe and sound!

edgewater motel

I never leave the house without the camera now, because there is always the chance of zooming right by a Gutnayer project. Sure enough today, we drove right by one of the motels that is in his drawings.

Now there are many of these little motels all over Chicagoland, but how many are in beautiful shape and are right down the street from the leaning tower of Pisa?

Edgewater Motel, Touhy & Nagle, Niles, IL

We were on our way to Elk Grove Village, where we ate lunch in a Japanese restaurant in an industrial park. It was the first time I ate in a Japanese restaurant where most of the patrons were speaking Japanese. On our way back, we stopped briefly to photograph the hotel.

The restrained Gutnayer eave in action.