Author: Susan Sorensen

Landscape architect Pete O’Shea spent his youth playing in the fields, orchards, and woods of his Central Massachusetts neighborhood, where “we didn’t really know that what we were exploring daily was this incredibly dynamic landscape of glacial topography, dwindling agriculture, and second growth forests laced with old stone walls, boulders, ponds, and streams,” he said. “We just responded to its patterns and character, and experienced it in an unencumbered manner.” In addition to sharing childhood memories, O’Shea recently talked to us about how he landed in Charlottesville and his favorite book, Where the Wild Things Are.

Why architecture? Landscape architecture actually, and really it was a fortuitous accident. I studied fine art in college, and while exploring the University of Pennsylvania Graduate School of Fine Arts catalogue I discovered landscape architecture as a program that was offered within the school. It was the clichéd light bulb over the head moment. Suddenly, much of the ambivalence I felt about art school was answered in this program that offered a focused application of art, environment, and community through the practice of design.

Why did you choose to practice in Virginia? I was living in Philadelphia when I discovered landscape architecture and applied to Penn where I was accepted. I had also applied and been accepted at UVA. I felt fairly committed to Penn but thought I should at least visit UVA and attend the program open house. It was glorious weather and I took a scenic route from Philly through the mountains. I decided on UVA before even arriving in Charlottesville. The open house introduced me to a faculty and school that made me feel immediately comfortable, at home, and inspired. After school, my wife and I lived and practiced in Boston, Denver, and Rome, and hadn’t really thought about ever moving back to Charlottesville (it was a pretty sleepy place when we were in school during the early ’90s). Warren Byrd reached out to us about joining his emerging practice and we jumped at the chance. We have been here ever since.

What was your childhood like, and how did it lead you to design? Outside. As a rule we were banished from the house unless it was a meal time or pouring rain. I grew up in central Massachusetts with five brothers and sisters, and we were incredibly free and generally unsupervised [to explore] a richly layered landscape in the midst of a dramatic transition. This was a landscape marked by human settlement and industry, and ripe with odd and sometimes frightening local characters and legends that made it even more enticing as a place to play and explore. The other aspect of growing up that has oriented my practice as a designer more than anything else is drawing. My brother and I drew constantly. At an early age it became my preferred language of both expression and exploratory thinking. Watching my three kids carry the obsession with drawing forward and seeing how much more skilled at it than I was at their age is a source of daily happiness.

Tell us about your college experience. Was there a stand-out teacher who had a lasting impact on you? So many teachers have had a great influence on me but two really stand out: At Bates College, Joe Nicoletti showed me how to use drawing as a process of really seeing something and understanding how it worked. It was a truly structural and analytical approach to drawing and painting. This persists in how I draw and how I conceptualize design today. The other person was Warren Byrd, who was the chair of the landscape architecture department at UVA when I started, and I felt an immediate alignment of values with him. During grad school Warren would maintain extremely high expectations for productive and creative work. Then, usually at a time of looming deadlines and stress, he would come in and challenge our priorities by suggesting that maybe it would be a good day to go hike in the mountains. It would bring me immediately back to the reasons I was in school and the decision always became easier. Go outside. Draw constantly.

On process: How does it begin? Go to the site. Meet the people who the project is for. Get to know what they care about and how you can begin to envision making a place that they will love. Draw, photograph, collect information, have conversations. Get to know each other. Do it again. Learning the human and natural stories embedded in a place that have contributed to its formation is essential to creating a foundation upon which to work. It is really easy to get stuck in the weeds too early in the design process and lose sight of the big picture. I like to think of what we do as helping initiate the next set of chapters in the story of a place or a community.

 

What inspires you? People and places that have a story, that have an evident layering of history and process, that have a sense of authenticity and a clarity of identity; places with wildness. It might be that cathartic moment of a certain kind of light, a smell, a sound, a story being told about the past, that brings a place into sharper focus and there is a sense of connection and a sense of the life of a place that is always inspiring. I am inspired by the resilience of things. How they grow and adapt and change. I am constantly inspired by kids (my own and others). They are so incredibly intuitive, observant, and dynamic in the way they engage the world, which makes me think of my all-time favorite children’s book, Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak.

What are you working on now? We do a lot of work with schools at every level and have several really interesting charter elementary schools in the works in Washington, D.C. We have a project in construction at UVA for the transformation of the courtyard between Old and New Cabell Hall at the end of the Lawn, which will be a modern courtyard in the heart of the Academical Village. We recently completed two landscape master plans, one for Richard Neutra’s Richmond Rice House, which is being transformed into an event and research venue for the Science Museum of Virginia, and for the Museum of the Shenandoah Valley in Winchester. We have work under way at The Frick Collection in Pittsburgh, and have projects that have been completed in the past few years in the San Francisco Bay Area for corporate campuses and for NASA. We are just starting on a really exciting project for a campus expansion and a set of new residence halls for the Laurent Clerc National Deaf Education Center at Gallaudet University in D.C. Another aspect of our practice that we are committed to (and love) is outreach work with community partners like The Bridge Progressive Arts Initiative, Piedmont Council of the Arts, and Charlottesville Parks and Recreation. Our design (with architect Robert Winstead) of the Community Chalkboard continues to provide opportunities for crafting outreach projects and partnerships like StoryLine that allow us to share our experiences with those of the community through explorations of Charlottesville.

How does the site or sense of place inform architecture for you? As landscape architects we are entirely focused on the transformation of sites and the creation of a sense of place. For me, place is more a process to engage than a static physical condition. Our work approaches the fusion of social, historical, and ecological process equally in the making of new places for people. So this question might come around from another direction. One of the things that I find most enjoyable, challenging, and transformative in what we do is collaborating with architects. It allows us to engage in the integrated creation of a project with such a closely aligned profession where we get to share knowledge and evolve each other’s perspectives through a shared endeavor.

How would you assess the state of architecture in our region? There is an incredible wealth and diversity of talented and creative landscape architecture and architecture practices in our region. It is hard to fathom the number of excellent practices in Charlottesville alone. UVA’s School of Architecture is largely responsible for this concentration of talent. The incredibly valuable knowledge base and influence it continues to cultivate and provide to the local design community and at a national and international level is an asset unique in a town the size of Charlottesville. I think that there is also an ongoing emergence of a more critical and forward-looking approach to design by the general public and with clients such as municipalities and universities. Rising awareness and interest in issues of environmental and social resilience, sustainability and the impact that good design has on the health and well-being of human communities is positioning designers to make important contributions on complex issues in this region and beyond. These issues are helping adjust the perception of design as primarily an aesthetic endeavor towards one that is more performative and based in the synthesis of art, history, science and community.

Sheilah Michaels credits her father, a builder who made her a toolbox when she was 4 years old and often took her to job sites, with planting the design seed early. Over the years, Michaels’ passion never wavered, and she’s spent more than 20 years working as an interior designer, buyer, and visual merchandising manager. This month we asked Michaels to answer a few questions, and here’s what she had to say about “menswear” fabrics, the benefits of good lighting, and the dangers of cheap windows.

Have you ever had a change of heart about an object or style? Oh golly, I’m still trying to evict all my country French fabrics from a France fling several years back.

Does your home look like the one you grew up in? Not in physical appearance, but the essence of country life, antiques, books piled everywhere, and collectibles is ever-present.

What is your first design memory? From about 6 years of age, I knew I would study architecture. My father was a builder and he always took me along to job sites where I collected wallpaper samples, blueprints, pieces of trim, you name it.

What’s your favorite room in your house? In the winter, it’s my reading chair by the fireplace, in the summer it’s my reading chair on the porch. Your most treasured possession? Two very spoiled felines and my Mac laptop.

What do you wish you couldn’t live without? Design magazines. Thank goodness for recycling.

What are your preferred materials or textures? I love what we call “menswear” fabrics: herringbone and corduroy, wool, tartans, tweeds (think Ralph Lauren) and rustic, weathered bronze and iron metals.

Go-to colors? In my professional work, I never use the same palette. With so many colors to choose from, why limit yourself to just a few? At home, I have a penchant for golds, olives, and browns.

Favorite designer? Axel Vervoordt, Suzanne Kasler, Kit Kemp. Stylist: Hans Blomquist.

Best design-related word? Patina

What’s a design rule you like to break? Not that I’m trailblazing here, but I love painting trim and walls the same color and I stack books on wood chairs all over the house.

Does a room need a view? Not if you have a good designer who can create a focal point.

Is there anything you’re afraid to DIY? Fear is generally not in my vocabulary. My father made me my first tool box when I was 4. He used my mother’s broom handle for my toolbox handle. Tools aside, you probably won’t catch this cowgirl up on a roof anytime soon.

Name some things that can really transform a room. Good lighting, a great paint color, interesting textiles.

What should a homeowner never scrimp on? Original artwork and custom window treatments. And when renovating or building, buy the best and most interesting windows that you can afford. Cheap windows instantly kill exterior and interior design schemes.

Is there a design blog, website, TV show, or magazine that you look at all the time? Albemarle home.blogspot.com is a written by a very talented designer (a little self-promotion!). Other blogs I like are Houzz, Belgium Pearls, and FindingHome. As for magazines, I read everything, especially since I don’t own a television.

Antique or modern? Always, always a mix! I have an abstract art collection that I enjoy mixing with country pieces and antiques.

City or country? Country for living, city for exploring and shopping.

If you could live in one historical figure’s house, whose would it be? Ernest Hemingway’s Finca Vigia in Cuba (that’s an architectural statement, not a political one).

On what film set would you like to live? In the movie Laurel Canyon, Frances McDormand’s character Jane’s house.

If you were reborn as a piece of furniture or an object, what would it be? An English farmhouse table with a 200-year-old patina.

Want to know more? Visit Sheilah Michaels Design Studio at sheilahmichaels@aol.com or call 964-7628 to get in touch.

When Sheilah Michaels was asked to create a child’s bedroom for last spring’s Shelter for Help in Emergency’s Design House, she turned to the pages of some of her favorite children’s books for inspiration. “I wanted to capture the enchanting images from The Wind in the Willows, Charlotte’s Web, and The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, and express [them] through color, texture, space, and design,” she said.

“Children’s bedrooms today differ greatly from the bedrooms many of us baby boomers had,” Michaels added. A queen size bed is the new norm, and today’s kids come with lots of electronics, so it’s important that their bedrooms have plenty of storage, including a desk with lots of drawer space and an adjustable bookcase or two.

Michaels thinks long-term when designing a room for a young person. “Often parents spend money on inexpensive, gimmicky furniture, lamps, and rugs that have very short-term use due to quality or style,” she said. Michaels’ Design House bedroom included items like an ottoman, which can easily grow with a child and be changed out later, as style choices evolve. “It makes a cozy spot for kids and parents to relax while reading a book,” she said. “And for teens, it’s a great place to congregate in groups.” Plus an ottoman can be slipcovered or reupholstered and used somewhere else in the house. Or it can accompany a young adult to college or her first apartment.

When putting together a youngster’s bedroom, Michaels works with parents and gets input from the child. She advises them to go with a multi-color palette that can be easily edited if color preferences change. “If you choose a wall color that acts as a neutral (greens and grays are considered neutrals), you can change out the bedding or window treatments without having to repaint the room,” Michaels said. “Or do the opposite: Choose a ‘wow’ wall color, but select bedding that is neutral.”

Much of the time, children need to be introduced to new color palettes, she added. “Hot pink, violet, and ocean blue tend to be the big favorites, but that’s mostly because kids have no idea other color palettes exist.” Michaels used a “happy color palette” of marigold, persimmon, subtle fuchsia, robin’s egg blue, and willow in the Design House bedroom. “It was a color scheme that could be used for a girl’s or boy’s bedroom, or even for an adult guest room,” she said.

Like paint, accessories are affordable and can quickly change the style and personality of a child’s bedroom. Michaels picked up the Design House bedroom’s zebra head for $25 and she paid $8 for the giraffe on the bookcase. She also called in a few favors. “I couldn’t have pulled together my Design House space without the many dolls and toys lent to me by friends,” Michaels said. “It’s amazing what I sometimes find in client’s attics. So often we move things from one room to another and find great treasures that were underutilized or ignored.”

As a University of Virginia undergraduate, Jeff Bushman majored briefly in science, thinking he’d one day attend medical school. An architecture class put the brakes on that plan, though, and the future Bushman Dreyfus Architects principal’s course was set. He recently spoke to us about influential teachers at UVA, why consilience inspires him, and the wide range of projects he’s working on.

Why architecture?

Because practicing architecture is so much fun. We have a blast and are very, very challenged at the same time. What will keep our clients happy? What will keep the water out of the building? What technical decisions will keep a building watertight and structurally sound for the ages. What aesthetic decisions will keep people loving this structure for centuries and therefore protect and preserve it? I love those questions.

Why did you choose to practice in Virginia?

Virginia chose me as much as I chose Virginia. I enrolled at UVA intending to major in a science, but that plan was derailed by an architecture elective I took in my second year and by a burst of encouragement from some teachers, so I transferred to the architecture school. After my undergraduate degree I stuck around for a masters. I immediately started teaching architectural design at UVA, and did so for almost 10 years, while slowing building the practice.

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

Itinerant, undisciplined, and adventurous. I’m the oldest of seven precocious Catholic Navy brats, and we moved every two years growing up. I split my high school years across both sides of the country, focused on hard science and studio art, even jewelry-making. We were constantly making things under the leadership of my mother. “Architect” was on her short list for me.

Tell us about your college experience. Was there a stand-out teacher who had a lasting impact on you?

I owe a debt of gratitude to them all. I had no idea as a young student what architecture was, what design was, or what the links between architecture and art-with-a-capital-A were until I studied under Ralph Lerner. Leon Krier, the enfant-terrible Belgian urban planner, is and was a ridiculous purist on many levels, but so fascinating and committed. He was completely horrified at the state of contemporary architectural and urban culture—this was the ’80s—that “because he was an architect” he refused to build anything at all. Highly amusing, very challenging, and very sincere, he taught us so much about the traditional European city, about craft, and guilds, and materials, and making buildings by hand. Jacque Robertson, Mario Valmarana—I could go on. I’ve been blessed with fantastic teachers.

On process: How does it begin?

Well always, of course, with a client. That is the difference between “design” and “art.” This analogy can be a little glib, but we sometimes think of ourselves as design doctors: We take a history, we consult with specialists and conjure up a diagnosis and a remedy for the problem at hand. Our bedside manner needs to be good. We need to do our homework. Having said that, once we have a client’s brief in hand, and have a good feeling for what our client’s intentions might be, the path to a solution always begins with the site, whether big or small, urban or rural. The context and the setting will have the answers. Landscape is very important to us. We used to say every building has three constituencies: our clients, the profession, and the public. But now we need to add another: Mother Earth. Energy use and how a structure is heated and cooled, the origin of building materials and their chemical composition are critically important questions these days.

What inspires you?

Consilience. I love people from radically different backgrounds working toward a common goal. I love ideas from opposed corners of the intellectual spectrum pointing in the same direction. I love it when science and art and culture overlap. When old and new conspire toward the same end, this is what brings energy to a good street, or when a “new” house on an “old” site dovetail perfectly. Healthy ecosystems inspire me.

What are you working on now?

My colleagues and I are working on greenhouses, barns, a winery, a lake, a tiny art gallery in NOLA, a few big new houses, a church. We’re helping families rethink their domiciles. One notable project is a retreat center on the Potomac River for academics working on the problem of religious and identity-based conflict. We are working on a women’s health clinic in Kakata, Liberia. Closer to home, this summer we’re helping Live Arts redo its lobbies and main theater. And after many studies commissioned from many firms over the years, we’re helping out with the city’s West Main Street project—creating guidelines so that as new buildings come along they play nicely with historic fabric on the street and with adjacent residential neighborhoods, and create a beautiful streetscape for bicycles, pedestrians, commerce, and cafés.

 

How does the site or sense of place inform architecture for you?

Architecture is about life on earth. Our goal as designers is to create places people love. To extend the doctor analogy: Every project is a surgery and an intervention, cutting into an existing site or structure. For us “new” and “old” are always tangled up in a fascinating conversation. Rarely are sites or settings improved by means of a radical makeover; each design project changes a site or city in slow, incremental ways, improving the site or ecosystem or setting bit by bit. So we constantly ask ourselves if our small project is making a positive contribution to the big picture.

How would you assess the state of architecture in our region?

Central Virginia is a lovely place to practice. We have a world-class architecture school. We have a World Heritage site down the street—one of the most beautiful spaces on the planet. Charlottesville is blessed with talent and resources. Our citizens are both educated about, and interested in, buildings and spaces that speak to the culture. Our town benefits from a source of tremendous design energy: the tension between those who rail against the Jeffersonian red-brick-white-trim paradigm versus those who embrace it. We think that conversation is a positive thing. We love the authentic “old” and much of our practice is devoted to preserving it. We love an authentic “new” as well. Captions: The owners of this southern Albemarle home told Bushman Dreyfus Architects that their house, which sits on a 50-acre wooded plot, should embrace the outdoors and look contemporary. The complex design of the dwelling is reminiscent of origami, with nooks and crannies inside and out. A wall of glass on the south side of the living room lets in light and provides a view of the woods. Previous page: East Aurora, New York house. Among Bushman Dreyfus Architects recent projects are Pippin Hill Farm and Vineyard; the Desmond-Levy House in Albemarle County; and the Rudolph House, also in Albemarle County, with a garden concept by Pete O’Shea of Siteworks Studio.

When we asked designer Chloe Ball to answer a few questions for us this month, she said, “I’m one of two who make a team.” So we talked to Chloe and her partner, Kathleen Conroy, and they enlightened us about the Medici family’s Pitti Palace, tinsel on Christmas trees, and Sister Parish.

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

Chloe: Every day!

Kathleen: Yes, but it was a long time ago. Age and experience widens your perception and appreciation.

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

Chloe: Not at all.

Kathleen: Not physically. I grew up in a Cape Code white clapboard.

What is your first design memory?

Chloe: Picking out wallpaper with my mother and of course antiquing with my father [Kenny Ball].

Kathleen: Being sent to my room for throwing a tantrum about putting tinsel on the Christmas tree, which is still a deal-breaker for me.

What’s your favorite room in your house?

Chloe: The living room.

Kathleen: My living room because it’s a room that’s lived in and surrounds me with colors and objects that I love.

Your most treasured possessions?

Chloe: A pair of salmon-colored lacquered end tables my uncle designed, and a recamier I grew up lounging on.

Kathleen: My antique country Italian chest of drawers.

What can you not live without?

Chloe: My dogs, Disco and Yahtzee.

Kathleen: My three children—and then red wine, college football, and Christmas.

What are your preferred materials or textures?

Chloe: Linen or silk velvet.

Kathleen: It’s impossible for me to say because textures and materials all have to play in concert together.

Go-to colors?

Chloe: Any shade of pink. On projects, I let my clients tell me what their go-to colors are.

Kathleen: My personal go-to colors are caramels, oranges, terracottas, and greens.

Chloe: It’s a four-letter word.

Kathleen: Comfort.

Favorite designer?

Chloe: Dorothy Draper

Kathleen: The late Sister Parish, who’s responsible for creating interiors that were a tremendous blend of objects: quilts and baskets next to fine French and English antiques.

What’s a design rule you like to break?

Chloe: I didn’t know there were any!

Kathleen: Are there any rules?

Is there anything you’re afraid to DIY?

Chloe: Sewing.

Kathleen: Painting.

Name some things that can really transform a room.

Chloe: Wallpaper or paint, with paint being less expensive and easiest.

Kathleen: Flowers and a great lamp shade.

What should a homeowner never scrimp on?

Chloe: Great lighting, inside and out.

Kathleen: A classic sofa frame and at least one club chair.

Is there a design blog, website, TV show, or magazine that you look at all the time?

Chloe: I just got hooked on Houzz.

Kathleen: Houzz, House Beautiful, and Elle Decor.

Antique or modern?

Chloe: Why can’t I have both?

Kathleen: Both.

City or country?

Chloe: City.

Kathleen: Both. Poor suburbia; it never gets mentioned.

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

Chloe: The Medici family’s Pitti Palace, surrounded by the Boboli Gardens in Florence.

Kathleen: I’ll share the Pitti Palace with Chloe.

On what film set would you like to live?

Chloe: The Birdcage.

Kathleen: “Mad Men,” specifically in Don Draper’s Manhattan apartment.

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

Chloe: A fabulous chandelier.

Kathleen: A big old farm table.

Want to know more? Visit Kenny Ball Design at kennyballdesign.com, or call 293-1361 to get in touch.