Garrett Queen, book arts program director at the Virginia Center for the Book, demonstrates how to use a letterpress at the fifth Charlottesville Design Week, which was held April 9-12 at Vault Virginia and other venues around the city. A volunteer-led convention, the week brings together designers from all walks for workshops, film screenings, portfolio reviews, and more. charlottesvilledesignweek.com
For an at-home twist to our annual design issue, we asked a handful of local artists, architects, and designers where they’re spending the most time these days, and what spaces or objects are bringing them joy. Here’s what they had to share.
This space has become increasingly multipurpose. It used to be a guest room and now is my home studio where I record and practice cello, write music, and devote hours to my newfound interest in sewing garments. I also teach Latin on Skype at the desk, to students who mostly live on the West Coast. The room is a corner nook in the apartment that I share with my partner. I love the morning light, the coziness, and the walls covered with artwork (some of the pieces and light fixtures are by local artist Bolanle Adeboye). In the evening, the light is dim and inviting, and from the windows I can hear passing trains and the hush of nighttime spring life.—Wes Swing, cellist, composer, and teacher
I call this my Zoom room. The laptop is positioned on my parents’ 1950s kitchen table in front of the window. This area provides soft front lighting, a door to close, and a simple background. It also acts as an exercise room and art studio. The stickers remain from a childhood past.—Stacey Evans, artist
We’ve been spending a lot of time on our back porch and just redid the entry at our driveway with a new fence that the kids helped us paint (homeschool at its finest!). Other than that, we’ve been laying low, working remotely, and trying our darnedest to stay sane through this.—Anna Boeschenstein, owner, Grounded Landscape Architecture & Design
This chair, which I purchased from a friendly German couple just before the dawn of my career as a freelance designer, is exceedingly comfortable. But more than comfortable, which is a trait most recliners share, this chair is comforting. It makes working from home better than bearable, with a seat that feels weightless and a view that is green. On nicer days, I can open the sliding glass door and feel the breeze while I select typefaces and listen to the birds and leaves while I build websites.—Lucas Czarnecki, typographic designer
My workspace has, without a doubt, become the most important and most used spot in my apartment. I spend a big chunk of the day editing shots from my street and Porchraits projects here, [and] it also serves as my virtual happy hour spot since all my social events happen online these days. …Welcome to my new normal.—Eze Amos, photographer
This is a table that my husband, who’s a woodworker, made for me a couple years ago, [and] we designed [it] together. It’s the table we eat our dinner on. It’s also the place I set up for my Zoom meetings, because it has the best light. It looks out onto our backyard, and the woods. It’s been really beautiful to see the transition from winter to spring. As the leaves start to fill in, it becomes a lot more private. This is a family space, but it’s also become a workspace. It’s just that thing that encapsulates trying to homeschool and work and all the things that are happening at this moment, quality not assured.—Lou Haney, artist and PVCC teacher
I used to work out of this room when I freelanced. The built-in desks were actually going to be removed to use in our Stony Point office, but alas, we hadn’t gotten around to it, so this was practically move-in ready. Our entire network is in the cloud, and we keep in touch with clients and each other through all the usual media.
In terms of function, the office works quite well for me. T&N printing is nearby, and they deliver. I mostly get half-size sets of drawings because they fit into my little flat files. Our office is as busy as ever—perhaps even more so. We do custom residential design for the most part, and so many people are getting to know their homes in new ways now. That’s exactly what we help them do, so I’m happy to report that we’re hard at work, and so are the builders who make these houses happen.—Jessie Chapman, architect, Goodhouse Design
My husband, artist Russ Warren, moved into his new studio the second weekend in April. He had grown out of his smaller studio over Les Yeux du Monde Gallery and was working in the garage for several years, so this is a welcome evolution. It was designed by architect Josh Stastny and built by Peter Johnson Builders. Now there’s lots of room for his larger-than-life-sized paintings.—Lyn Bolen Warren
When UVA transitioned to a work-from-home order, it was imperative that I clean up a space to work while I edit photos. Since I moved into this house I’ve had an office/spare room in an upstairs bedroom. As with most people, it began with the best intentions, but the room inevitably became the junk drawer of the house.
We cleaned up the room and made it a pleasant place to work. Now, it has become one of my favorite places in the house, especially with the nice morning light. Behind my desk I have a very old flat file that was part of UVA’s Brooks Hall when it was a natural history museum in the late 1800s. It holds my camera gear and prints I’ve made of my work. My cat particularly enjoys spending most of the day lounging on the futon while I work. It’s a calming place that allows me to focus when I am home and editing.—Sanjay Suchak, photographer
After meeting in college, the couple got married and pursued their respective careers—she as a librarian and he as a patent attorney—living for many years in Delaware. About two years ago, when the time came for them to retire, there was little question they’d end up near Keswick, specifically, on a piece of land connected to her mom and dad’s farm.
“I distinctly remember when I first came to visit her family,” says the husband. “I thought, wow, what a nice area. There’s a lot of nature, and yet it’s not far from Charlottesville.”
Many years ago, her parents had bought the land where the couple’s new home now stands to protect the views. But having a few acres to situate a house and having one built for you are two very different things. “I had never worked with an architect—that’s just not me,” she says. “I’m a librarian!”
Ah, but librarians are good at research, and after many hours of looking at architects’ websites, she discovered Charlottesville’s Peter LaBau of GoodHouse Design, which specializes in residential design. “I talked to Peter, and we had a comfortable rapport,” she says, adding that LaBau’s co-principal, Jessie Chapman, was also a key player in the project.
“We agreed on that point,” he says. “And my personal preference just happened to be to live in a house in the woods—so that’s what we have.”
The home lives up to its nickname, A Walk in the Woods.
“It’s in the woods, but there’s a lot of light,” she says. “Every morning I wake up and look outside, and the fields and the forest present different colors. It makes me want to go outside, but because of the openness of the design and the large windows, there’s a feeling of being outside without having to go there.”
Also, having grown up in the area, she had spent time in many local friends’ houses, historical ones that had been added onto over the years. “There were a lot of different levels, steps up or steps down into different rooms,” she says. “I knew we didn’t want that—we want this to be our last house, so ease of movement from one room to the next was an important consideration.”
The rooms on the main floor sit on the same level, easing transitions as one moves from one space to the next. But the house isn’t uniformly horizontal. It presents three primary upper volumes—the garage, the bedroom wing, and the loft above the main living area. “We wanted enough space where, when everyone came to visit they could have some alone time and close a door,” he says.
Guest bedrooms on the first floor and in the loft accommodate frequent visits by the couple’s sons. “One is married, one is engaged, and one is dating,” she says. “No grandchildren yet—but we have plenty more room.”
Technical considerations
Before construction began, LaBau and associate Victor Colom staked out the proposed position of the house. “So, we knew the direction the front of the house would be facing,” the husband says. “Peter is deep in thought. Finally, he says, ‘Wait a second. We need to rotate this whole thing 10 degrees to the right—that is the view you want.’”
The couple agreed that the architect was right—just like he was about many other technical and design considerations. “It is a house designed to look like it evolved out of the site,” she says.
Because of that organic feel, the couple considered cladding the exterior in reclaimed pine or cedar. Then the husband asked colleagues at work about the materials. “They said, ‘Oh, the woodpeckers! You’re going to attract every one from miles around.’”
Also rejected was a roof made entirely of raised-seam metal, even though the couple both liked the sound of rain falling on such a surface. But after the husband visited a friend in North Carolina who had a home with a metal roof, and overhanging oak branches, the couple backed off of the idea. “When the acorns were falling, it sounded like gunshots going off,” he says.
Regardless of the roof (it’s shingled, by the way), the couple still loves the secluded feeling of living among so many trees. “It’s zoned rural, and it remains rural,” she says, noting that the closest neighbors are a quarter to a half mile away. “When the trees leaf out, you don’t see light from the neighbors’ houses at all.”
The graphic artist, web designer, and bookbinder worked in Charlottesville for many years, running her own business. She shifted gears, taking a full-time job at a non-profit. But after a while, she wanted to get back to being her own boss, and to find a way to spend more time in the country, gardening, hiking, communing with nature, and meditating.
She envisioned a minimal, modern, energy-efficient home with a studio, situated on plenty of land to grow her own food. Armed with sketches of her dream home, and a conviction to live sustainably, she called on a former client, architect Chris Hays, of Hays + Ewing Design Studio. When Hays learned what she wanted, he thought immediately of builder Peter Johnson, and the collaboration began.
“It was a very dynamic process,” Johnson says. “The client had strong ideas for the home, and Chris was quick to draw them. I’ve worked with him many times. When he draws out his plans, even in preliminary stages, he puts them into CAD so they are easy to envision.”
The client also had a nice chunk of property, 94 acres with a perfect spot to build. “It was a house to be located on top of a hill with a nice view out to the west,” Hays says. “We were looking at a smallish house, but on the other hand, she was interested in getting up high to see the property.”
All indicators pointed to a vertical space. “We went through a few ideas before we came up with something we were excited about,” Hays says. “We came up with a third floor that she could use to meditate, and also look out at the land and all of the wildlife.”
After a few design iterations, Hays and the client agreed that they’d devised a good scheme. “She said that it really felt right for the place, which is one of the greatest compliments we could get,” Hays says.
The fundamental idea of verticality was reinforced by the client’s desire to install a radiant-heat oven that can also be used to cook. Made by Tulikivi, Finland’s largest stone producer, the soapstone-clad unit is so large and heavy that it requires its own concrete footing and foundation. It also contributes to the home’s energy efficiency. A single firing with split wood provides 12 hours of heat.
For practical purposes, the Tulikivi is largely redundant—ample energy for heating is provided by solar panels on the south-facing portion of the roof (more on that later). But the oven is quite beautiful, a tall rectangle of mid-gray stone with a cylindrical stainless-steel flue that shoots up through the open-plan home and exhausts through the roof.
“It has emotional and psychological benefits, in terms of the warming,” Hays says. “You also have a cooking compartment up above the main hearth, which has a glass door. From the bathroom, you can see out to the oven and the flames inside.”
Hays also designed the staircase to convey heat from the first floor to the third. This provides warmth throughout the house—including the studio on the second floor—when it’s cold outside, and when temperatures climb, windows on the top floor can be opened to let heat escape.
Now, about the roof. On a conventional home, the roof may simply be a cap on a box, but here it’s a key element of Hays’ design. From the south extremity of the structure, the roof climbs at an angle to the top of the second floor; solar panels cover this part of the surface. After flattening out and reaching south, the roof drops more or less straight down, and then completes its zig-zagging journey with an L-shape that encloses the porte cochere, which also serves as the woodshed.
Viewed from the east or the west, the roof establishes the clean, modern feel of the home. The rather simple exterior finishes—horizontal red cedar siding on the east and west walls, and rectangular fiber cement panels on the north and south—enhance this aesthetic, as do the plentiful (and large) windows.
Beneath the exterior cladding lies an envelope of thick foam slabs, which seal and insulate the structure. “We did blower and duct-blaster tests and were very pleased with the results,” Johnson says. “The house is tight.”
Inside, finishes selected by the client lend a natural feel. “I wanted to go really organic—oak floors, maple cabinetry, porcelain tiles,” she says. “The central space is all enclosed in plywood. It’s like there’s a treehouse in the center of the house. The counters are soapstone that was quarried right nearby the house.”
The client now has the country place she envisioned, with plenty of room for planting outdoors. “My mom always said two things about me: My eyes are bigger than my stomach, and I always bite off more than I can chew,” she says. “I guess that’s why I ended up with a one-and-a-half-acre orchard and garden.”
The client just added chickens to the mix (“Oh, and I have to build a coop,” she says), and she plans on getting goats and honey-producing bee hives. Her enthusiasm and energy are seemingly endless.
“It was a lot of fun working with her, because she cares a lot about design,” Hays says. “It was very much like a partnership. Peter, the builder, was also very invested to get things exactly right. We were a good team.”
Vitae Spirits just added another accolade to its pile of awards, but this one is for its design, not for its excellent craft liquors. A converted schoolhouse, Vitae’s tasting room and production facility on Henry Street is half laboratory and half chic cocktail lounge. This combination earned Vitae’s design/build contractor, Charlottesville’s Alloy Workshop, the award for best commercial interior of 2019 from the National Association of the Remodeling Industry. Pitted against 350 other contestants, Alloy took the top spot in NARI’s southeast region. Vitae founder Ian Glomski praised Alloy for “creating a space with clean contemporary floating lines transfused with the welcoming organic warmth of wood and botanical art.”
Local wine power couple Will and Priscilla Martin Curley have purchased The Wine Guild of Charlottesville, where they were both already on staff. In fact, Will had been running it since his recent departure from Brasserie Saison on the Downtown Mall, where he was the general manager and wine director. Priscilla, a certified sommelier, is the wine director at tavola in Belmont. Also located in Belmont, at 221 Carlton Rd., the guild is a small wine and craft beer shop that’s open to the public, but where members ($200 a year) enjoy a 20 percent discount and other perks.
Skjald Meadworks, Charlottesville’s first and only meadery, celebrated its grand opening on March 30 with a birthday bash for meade-maker Jerome Snyder, who co-owns the business with his wife, Gwen Wells. After operating for five years in Altavista, south of Lynchburg, Skjald joins a downtown food-and-beverage boomlet, opening its doors (and tasting room) at 1114 E. Market St. Local meade heads are already familiar with Skjald’s honey-based brews, which retail at Market Street Wine, Beer Run, and Rebecca’s Natural Food, and are served at Firefly and Renewal.
Rebecca Edwards of tavola’s cicchetti bar has advanced to the regional finals of the prestigious USBG World Class bartending competition, placing her among the top 50 mixologists in the nation, and one of 10 in the contest’s Southern region. That group faces off April 28 in Minneapolis, where “we will be competing in a series of challenges judged by technical skill, style, creativity, hospitality, and product knowledge,” Edwards says. The ultimate goal is to reach the 11th annual global finals, in September in Glasgow, Scotland, where a single winner will be crowned. Speaking of crowns, Charlottesville’s top bottle slinger will earn one at the Tom Tom Festival’s inaugural Bartender’s Ball, on Monday, April 8. For more information, go to tomtomfest.com.
Zack Worrell and his team at Monolith Knives are carving out a name for themselves in the handmade knives market. From a studio on Worrell’s Ivy family farm, once owned by Meriwether Lewis, Worrell, Alan Bates and Nick Watson create culinary and field knives. Recently, they have been “breathing life” into folding knives, as Bates describes the process.
“We have trained artists, we have trained mechanics, and we have people that are coming from all these different backgrounds in this little shop,” Worrell says. “It really is a Jeffersonian story, because we’re doing things the way he probably would have liked to have seen them done.”
The lifelong desire to work with their hands led Bates, a woodworker with a background in custom high-end carpentry, and Watson, a sculptor and metalworker who recently finished an Aunspaugh Fellowship at UVA, to join Monolith Studio.
“When I first told my parents I was making knives, they were like, ‘Oh, knives are scary,’” Bates says. “So I bring a knife over and they’re wincing. A knife is a weapon to them, but I make kitchen knives. So they’re coming around to it.”
The artistry makes it easy to come around to knives as an “object of beauty,” as Monolith’s business manager and Worrell’s wife, Carrie, says. Each piece has “soul,” according to Worrell and Bates. Knives and cutting boards are currently available for purchase on Monolith’s website and at Timbercreek Market, and Zack hopes to add more retail locations.
“There aren’t many handmade kitchen knives out there,” Watson says. “Ours are special and so far different from something that you pick up at Bed Bath & Beyond. They create your dinner—what your family gathers around every day.”
In addition to providing lifetime sharpening and repairs for every tool they create, Worrell, Bates and Watson carefully curate each knife’s materials. One blade incorporates reclaimed steel from an old Mustang. Another custom handle features walnut from a client’s farm in Kentucky, and several future knives will include wood from crotches, the part of the tree where branches meet and wood compresses. A gentleman who goes by “Wild Man” recently provided the trio with the crotches in exchange for a Monolith knife.
“The idea of taking metal and putting it in the fire, smashing it and doing this and that to it is super cool to me,” says Worrell. “[Knife- making] feels like you’re going on this exploration of material. You’re bringing design along the way for functionality and aesthetic, but at the end of the day, it has to work.”
Dave Matthews recently came by the studio to work with the guys on a custom mushroom harvesting knife for his wife—featuring hair from his family’s hogs. Worrell says Matthews was involved in the process from the start.
“[Matthews] wasn’t like, ‘Hey, call me when it’s done or send it to my secretary,’” Worrell says. “He went out and cut the hair off the hog.”
Though Monolith has already garnered awards and national attention while working with clients ranging from celebrities to professional chefs, the guys continue to operate as a close-knit team—embracing the constructive feedback and “show-and-tell” moments fostered in a studio environment.
“Almost every knife has been worked on in some way or another by all of us,” Worrell says. “There isn’t one guy that makes all the knives, one guy that’s on the computer and one guy sweeping the floor. We’re working in a capacity.”
It’s this vision of a business that builds partnerships and celebrates creativity and resourcefulness that Worrell calls his “childhood dream.”
“What I feel like we’re trying to build here is a little bit of our own community and culture,” he says.
On Saturday at The Bridge PAI, visitors can watch these knife-makers and other local artisans at work—“smashing steel and making a scene,” as Worrell says—at an event titled “Sharp & Shiny Things: A Metal Crafters Open House.”
Worrell says his experience as co-founder of The Bridge is what drove him to knife-making. “My experience working with artists and learning about working with artists is what gave me the confidence to say, ‘I want to go be an artist.’ I feel very lucky to have found [Bates] and [Watson].”
Carrie Worrell, chair of The Bridge’s board of directors, sees the event as serving the nonprofit’s mission to bridge diverse communities through the arts.
“[Knife-making] is an art form happening right here in Charlottesville,” she says. “People need to know about it and people cruising around town should feel free to walk up and find out what a UVA graduate and two Charlottesville guys learned to do. They created a company to make [knives]. It’s pretty cool.”