Month: August 2016

In a way, one might say Jessie Chapman is getting back to basics. While many architects have gotten out of the practice of sketching their designs as the use of computers becomes more prevalent (and more time-effective), she prefers to put pen to paper. She says it helps her see more carefully.

“When you draw something by hand, on-location, you start to realize how subtle plays of depth and shadow affect the whole of a composition,” says Chapman, who founded Sketchwell Architecture and Design. “Or you might find that there’s an acoustical side effect to a material or form.”

She works with international nonprofit Urban Sketchers, which promotes the practice of drawing on location, and has painted watercolors locally—of UVA’s pavilions, the Barboursville ruins—and internationally—a skyline in Rome, a castle in the Bay of Naples, Italy.

Currently she’s practicing in town with residential designer Peter LaBau. “We share an enthusiasm for American architecture that is essential to the way we work,” Chapman says.

We asked her to tell us more about sketching on-site and the important role of art in her work. “You never know what you might discover,” she says, “and that’s what design is all about.”

Why architecture?

Honestly, I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. I’m a problem-solver by nature, and this practice allows me to apply that skill in interesting ways. Architecture shapes the way people live, how they see things and how they interact. I hope that my work helps people to live better, more simply and with more appreciation for beauty.

Why did you choose to practice in Virginia?

I moved to Charlottesville for graduate school and then fell in love with the place. It’s a sophisticated, comfortable town that’s filled with smart people who recognize good design. Virginia is rich with architectural history, and of course that’s another reason to like living here.

My first summer job in grad school was to measure Pavilion VII in preparation for restoration. We measured and drew everything, from stair treads to moulding profiles. Sitting outside sketching the rear pergola some 20 years later seemed like a fitting way to remember that summer.

What was your childhood like, and how did it lead you to design?

In retrospect, it’s no surprise that I chose this field. I grew up in Baltimore at a time when there was a lot of interest in reviving historic buildings and neighborhoods. My mom grew up in New York City, in a family of artists and engineers, so everyone drew. On my dad’s side there are a lot of psychiatrists. I read that kids of psychiatrists often go into a creative field, but that they are motivated by the idea of healing.

Residential architecture is extraordinarily intimate, which makes it fascinating and rewarding. A client has to feel complete confidence in order to convey what’s important. There’s a lot of interpreting in my work, because I need to help people see. That’s why I spend time developing my skills through sketching. It helps me translate things quickly, whether it’s for an owner, a cabinetmaker or an architectural review board.

In college, was there a standout teacher who had a lasting impact on you?

At Wellesley, I studied art history, and I became even more interested in architecture when I decided to spend my junior year in Rome. I visit whenever I have the chance, and it never fails to teach me something. So can I call Rome my standout teacher from college?

After college, I worked for a firm in New York City that specialized in historic preservation. We worked with chemists, art conservators and sculptors. My boss knew everything about the Federal style. He had restored Gracie Mansion (built in 1799), in fact. Working there provided a small window into the tremendous amount of effort and talent that goes into building and maintaining a great city.

I came to UVA to pursue a master’s degree in architectural history. I was heading in the direction of a Ph.D. when I discovered that I wanted to be a designer rather than a scholar. So I completed the Master of Architecture degree, and I suppose the combination of degrees allows me to be both. Peter and I have an affection for old buildings and a love for books about old buildings. The library is an important part of our practice. Architecture is a language and, to me, it is important to study precedent and context. For residential work, I find a certain comfort in exploring themes that have been established and adapted over the centuries.

I’ve had so many great teachers over the years. In school, you only learn a sliver of what the broad and varied field of architecture is. Once you’re out of school, you need mentors to show you how things are done. Bahlmann Abbott was one of the standout mentors in the early part of my career. He taught me patience and precision, and passed on his love of the subtleties of old farmhouses.

On process: How does it begin?

Lots of questions. And establishing a good rapport through conversations and images. I always tell clients, “What you don’t like is just as important as what you do like.” And I encourage them to share images, ideas, materials and their specific thoughts and reactions. Most important to me is that the client’s vision is realized, not mine.

What inspires you?

Our clients. I love it when they know exactly what they want to do, and I love it when they’re lost at sea, needing direction. Peter and I had a client who’s in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and his knowledge of late 18th-century American architecture was astonishing. He’s an extraordinary musician, but he’s really turned on by historic panel details and construction techniques. It’s a joy to work with someone with that level of enthusiasm and intelligence. Then there are the people who have a more abstract spatial need: a better kitchen for entertaining, or improved connection to the garden.

What are you working on now?

A family came to us recently with a child who has exceptional needs. That kind of work is extremely personal, and I absolutely love it. A thoughtfully designed addition will make a huge impact on how they live.

So much of what we do is educate people. You have to figure out how they communicate, and how they perceive things. Some people don’t understand two-dimensional drawings at all. My job is to make sure they do understand the design. For most people, building a house or renovating a kitchen might be the most expensive and stressful thing they’ll ever do. In today’s world, everyone is overwhelmed by choices and data. I try to limit the options by picking a few good things based on my understanding of who this person is and what the goals of the project are. Most days, it’s hard work and a lot of fun. On the best days, it really does change people’s lives, and someone gets to live joyfully in a space we’ve designed together. That makes me feel extraordinarily fortunate.

When Vinegar Hill Theatre closed its doors in 2013 after 37 years of showing independent films, many cinephiles in Charlottesville mourned its loss. So when the downtown building became the home of Light House Studio in May 2015, says Light House’s Brooks Wellmon, “There was a ton of community interest in preserving the theater.”

Light House is a 17-year-old nonprofit that puts movie cameras in the hands of local kids, and Wellmon says it had outgrown its former headquarters in the Live Arts building on Water Street. “We just needed more and more space,” she says.

Light House classes and camps for kids always culminate in screenings of students’ films, and with the acquisition of Vinegar Hill, that could now happen in a real-life theater. That was the good news; the challenge was to update the audio and visual equipment and to plan for lots more classroom and meeting space in the future. Light House approached Wolf Ackerman to renovate Vinegar Hill and the restaurant space attached to it along West Market, as well as design a three-story Phase II addition behind the existing buildings.

Fred Wolf says that before the restaurant was added in the 1980s, the old theater had “a beautifully minimal, modernist façade. Our addition, which emphasizes simple wall planes and sections of glass, is meant to allude to that language.”

The renovated space has a functional, bare-bones look with gray concrete floors and white walls. Existing soapstone around the entrance exterior was preserved (along with the old concession booth) and a new paint job along the Market Street façade has a sly hidden meaning. “It was meant to abstractly allude to a strip of film, with the windows becoming the frames of the film,” says Wolf.

Wellmon says the whole facility—especially the theater itself, which despite technical upgrades retains its old seats and familiar feel—will open to the public for screenings, Q&As with filmmakers and other events. In that way, the old Vinegar Hill will live on. “The community didn’t want to see it transformed beyond recognition,” she says.

A second-generation interior designer, Michelle Willis Adams grew up “assisting” her mother, who had a design business in New York and Rappahannock, Virginia. She can remember sitting at her mother’s clients’ kitchen tables, “listening to them discuss fabrics and furniture arrangements,” she says. “I also remember browsing many antiques shops and going to auctions with mom, which I loved.”

No doubt that early exposure helped shape her own taste and sensibilities: The Charlottesville-based designer specializes in traditional, historic design, and loves colors and textures. But, she says, she’s enjoying contemporary items more and more. We asked her to tell us about her favorite things—including which room in her own home shes loves the most.

Antique or modern?

An eclectic mix of both. I love the weight, quality and patina of antiques and have been a long-time collector, but I find them more interesting and current when mixed with contemporary art, modern or transitional lighting fixtures, glass and metal tables, glazed garden stools and more.

Which colors do you gravitate toward?

All shades of blue attract me, [especially when] warmed up with a little red, camel or brown.

What materials or textures do you frequently use in your own home?

Blue and white porcelain, books, very soft-to-the-touch fabrics such as velvet and chenille.

What is your favorite interior design-related word?

Personal or individualistic.

Does your home look like the one you grew up in?

Yes, my family has given me many antiques, Oriental rugs and accessories, which are beautiful and have family history. And I use the same color palette as my parents: cobalt, russet and camel. Throughout the years, family pieces have traveled back and forth between our houses.

What’s one thing that can really transform a room?

A gorgeous lighting fixture, rug or piece of art are desirable. Live plants or fresh flowers are wonderful. Family photos personalize a space.

Favorite designer?

I greatly admire British designer Nina Campbell. She has designed everything from townhouses to castles, and she employs a fabulous mix of old and new, color and neutrals, with beautifully executed custom sewing.

Décor-wise, what should a homeowner never scrimp on?

If you can only afford to do one space well, then focus on the one you spend the most time in, such as the family room, kitchen or study. You will feel like you are on vacation when you are home.

Design rule you like to break?

Don’t feel you must match everything. Complementary colors or multiple shades of a color used together are often more interesting. It is nice for homes to look like they have evolved over time and not been purchased straight from a showroom.

What do you wish you could do without?

Television. It is not attractive and it can consume a lot of time, but I get hooked.

What are you afraid to DIY?

For anything electrical, I use professionals.

Have you ever had a change of heart about an object or style?

Yes, I enjoy contemporary items more and more.

If you could live in one historical figure’s house, whose would it be?

I love Monticello. How could you not? It is elegant, yet not pretentious. I see and learn something new every time I am there. And the surrounding countryside is so beautiful.

On what movie set would you like to live?

It is really a TV set, but I would vote for Downton Abbey. I spend half the show admiring the rooms.

If you were reborn as a piece of furniture or an object what would it be?

The desk in the Oval Office or the ceilings in the Vatican. Why not think big? Think of all the history to be experienced.

Which design blog, website or TV show do you peruse religiously?

When I have time, I love HGTV, especially the design shows. I admire Candice Olson and Chip and Joanna Gaines. They design in very different styles, but do beautifully detailed work.

You want a porch. But you’re afraid of commitment. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life with a whole deck hanging off the front of your house? Getting cold feet is understandable.

Perhaps a portico is more your speed.

“Generally I think of a portico as purely shelter for a doorway, whereas a porch is a space where you have chairs and tables and other items,” says Anne Mark, an architect for Johnson Craven & Gibson. “But I think they certainly can each serve a similar purpose.”

Amabel Shih of Dalgliesh Gilpin Paxton Architects agrees. She said porticos can even have seating in some cases.

So how do porticos play against porches, pound for pound? Local architects ponder the pressing questions.

Are porticos just for fancy houses?

The short answer is no. As long as the design is consistent with the rest of the house, porticos are for everyone. “In almost all cases, there is a way to add a portico that makes sense with the house,” Mark says.

True, porticos include columns, and columns can be fancy. But Shih says different types of columns, such as a square as opposed to ornate cylinders, can relate to most styles. Her firm has even added a portico to a garage.

“You need to think about the style of your home in terms of its architecture,” Mark says. “You need to balance it with the mass of the house. Hopefully the architect understands the style of the home, whether Craftsman or Georgian or modern, and works within the parameters.”

What do I get out of it?

Porticos denote a doorway and give you a place to set things down while opening your door without soaking your slip-ons, according to Mark. Porticos also tend to look nice, Shih says, so they can crank up your curb appeal.

Aren’t porticos hard to install?

Putting a small addition on your home at an entryway might be easier than you think, according to Shih. Adding mass to the front of your home is often easier than removing things, and the addition can solve architectural bugaboos, like a stairway that’s too close to the door. The portico can include a bump out, Shih says, and build a buffer between guests and intimate spaces like bathrooms as they arrive in your home.

Mark says porticos can, however, present some structural concerns. “You are clearly going to have to look at the relationship to the windows if you have a second story or the roof if you have a one-story house—and how it then relates to the street or how one enters the house,” she says.

Will a portico add value?

This is a tough one to answer, Mark and Shih agree, since porticos don’t offer the tangible benefits of, say, an upgraded kitchen or bathroom. But Shih says front elevation on a home is important, and buyers will see that immediately as they approach the property. Adding a structure like a portico also gives you the ability to add other functional areas, she says, like a space that can work as a mudroom.

Mark says porticos are all about the curb appeal. “I’m not sure what that value would be, but in some cases it might be a lot,” she says.

Porti-code

But really, what is a portico? By most definitions, the common feature of Greek architecture is a porch-like structure supported by columns positioned at an entryway. It’s not as deep as a porch but
can have limited living areas. “Portico” can also refer to a covered walkway supported by columns.

Suffice it to say columns are key, and the different types of porticos are defined by the number of columns used to support them. One-column porticos are known as henostyle, two columns are distyle, three columns are tristyle and four supports denotes tetrastyle.—S.G.

The first very important question for would-be buyers of 622 Watson Ave. is this: How much imagination do you have?

The question is key because the house, a 1930 foursquare, is ripe for a reno. It’s one of the older houses on the street, and in general it’s not the handsomest feller at the hoedown. Take the front porch, for example: The asphalt driveway terminates just a few feet from it; its ceiling has an intentional-but-puzzling slant, maybe 30 degrees or so; its posts are made of unfinished wood that seems out of place on this city dwelling.

These are the details that a design-minded person would immediately start to mentally renovate. Inside, there is plenty more such fodder. While solid, the house doesn’t have an abundance of original charm (apart from a few subtle things like doorknobs). And over the decades, it seems to have been treated to the kinds of updates—linoleum floors, odd carpeting, shortsighted laundry placement—that contribute to a downscale feel.

Let’s be clear: The house isn’t short on square footage, it’s just that the space could be carved up in a more functional, up-to-date way. Take the bedrooms. There are officially three, but one of those doubles as the access to a fourth room with uncertain function. Could these become a pleasant master suite of some kind? Perhaps a bedroom plus a large bathroom, dressing room or sitting room?

Other salient points about the structure: There is a downstairs den with built-in shelves and cabinets (and high windows that probably preclude use as an office). The full bathroom upstairs was renovated in the recent past, with a low-flow toilet, tan tile on the floor and tub surround and an okay sink vanity. And the stairwell is closed, but could perhaps be opened to become a focal point in the living room.

Know that there are no great views from this house, but there is a pleasant and spacious front yard (no backyard to speak of) with some valuable trees and a fairly new picket fence.

Now for the second very important question: How do you feel about noise?

Watson Avenue, if you’re not familiar, runs parallel to—and within spitting distance of—the 250 Bypass. Number 622 backs right up to the big road—closer than any other house on the block, since it’s sited almost on its rear property line —gaining little aural protection from the narrow band of bamboo and trees on the other side of the privacy fence.

For buyers craving peace and quiet, this might be a dealbreaker. Yet a look around the neighborhood suggests that the bypass noise could be the cover by which we shouldn’t judge the book.

This is not a downtrodden section of town. On the contrary, the houses here—even those that have a direct view of the bypass—are in most cases well loved and cared for. Yards are tidy, and there’s a general sense of well-being. Both houses immediately adjacent to 622, for example, show evidence of current or recent renovations, some of them rather nifty and modern. Right up the street is a Greek revival house with its own historic marker: Enderly, c. 1859, home of a Civil War-era clerk of the Virginia House of Delegates.

Northeast Park is a short walk away, and—oh yeah, that’s right!—so is Downtown Charlottesville. Which explains the price tag on this house, and the health of the neighborhood in general. You can hoof it over the bypass and be on your way to fine sushi, gelato or tagliatelle in no time.

Number 622 is, in fact, one of the houses most due for an update in the immediate area. Surely someone will be willing not only to overlook its disadvantages, but to exercise imagination in making it more of a star.

Property details

Address: 622 Watson Ave.

MLS#: 547234

Year built: 1930

Acreage: .32

Bedrooms: 3

Baths: 1.5

Square footage (finished): 1,822

$305,000