One thing I’ve noticed about upstate New York is that they have some really nice curbs.
Stone sidewalk and curb, Lake Placid, New York
I first noticed the curbs on a college campus in Geneva, New York. They’re great components of the college landscape – granite, durable, long-lasting, probably hold up really well to the snowplows that I imagine are regularly operating in that gray, snowy place. Actually, I’m pretty sure the orange streaks on the stone are rust stains from the snowplows that scrape these curbs each winter.
Stone curb with rust stains, Geneva, New York
I figured that the granite curb was a campus standard, so I was a bit surprised when I noticed the same curb in nearby downtown Geneva, and then I really couldn’t believe it when I saw the curb design again on the side of some little state highway near a new strip mall and big box retail development in the middle of nowhere in the Finger Lakes region in New York. Apparently, the New York State Department of Transportation has the nicest design standards for curbs that I’ve ever seen for highway use, and it looks like the college campus decided to go with that standard.
New stone curb being installed, near Seneca Falls, New York
I’ve encountered some terrible curbs in Denver, where I live, including at one decaying median with disintegrated curb with a corroded rebar sticking out on a busy US highway that runs through south Denver. More typically, I see unreinforced concrete curbs cut up by snowplows and work trucks. No orange streaks of rust staining on these – the concrete seems to just get scraped off.
Damaged concrete curb, Denver, Colorado
Over time, the concrete disintegrates.
Detail of damaged concrete curb, Denver, Colorado
A big piece of granite will last a lot longer than a chunk of cast-in-place concrete. This natural stone material will cost more than concrete, but stone curbs may not cost more in labor than concrete curbs do, and labor costs these days are really something to consider. The granite will look better, year after year, even under harsh conditions that seriously damage other materials.
The old quality-time-cost dynamic is at play in the stone curb vs. concrete curb design question. We rarely get good quality, with fast construction time, with low cost. Something can be built well – good quality – but it’ll cost more and may take more time than producing something of lesser quality. Something can be built quickly, but compared to something built on a more typical schedule, it will either cost more or be of lesser quality, or both. Something can be built cheaply, but the quality is likely to be poor.
For me, quality always includes durability – effectiveness and appearance over the long term. A higher-initial-cost, more durable building component can cost less in the long run, because of lower maintenance costs over its service life. Durable building components almost certainly look better over the long term, too. With cheap materials, there is often a period of time after their beauty has been exhausted but before they have been replaced, during which they are unbearable to look at. Durable things age gracefully. The beauty of an object, whether it’s part of a building, a piece of furniture, a good quality leather bag, or even a curb on the side of the road, is an incentive to keep and properly maintain the thing so that it continues to serve its purpose. Those nice curbs last long, look good for decades, maybe centuries, even when scraped by snowplows, and therefore probably cost less in the long run. Win-win-win.
When I was in architecture school, people often talked about “building for 500 years.” The architecture program at my alma mater, the University of Notre Dame, is a classical program, steeped in the traditions of ancient Greece and Rome, so this timeframe is not a surprise. For the past 5 decades, all architecture students at Notre Dame have spent an entire school year in Rome, in the middle of their degree program, studying the city and its buildings. Rome is a fascinating city, with many ancient buildings, or at least parts of many ancient buildings, still intact, and in most cases still in use. Usually the buildings being reused have been adapted to be something other than what they were originally built for. A great example of this is the Theatre of Marcellus, built as an open air theatre similar to the Colosseum in ancient times, but then partly used for parts (stone) for other structures, then turned into a fort, then turned into a palazzo (a private palace), and then later turned into apartments. It continues to be used as apartments, and still includes parts of the ancient building. You can see parts of the building from different eras in the photo below (some ancient, some restoration of the ancient, and some of the newer apartments at the top).
Theatre of Marcellus, Rome, photo by Liz O’Sullivan
It’s mostly just an accident that buildings like this have lasted this long. I’m sure the builders of the original theatre didn’t envision it lasting over two millennia. But they used the construction materials, building methods, and knowledge they had – they didn’t have many choices. If they wanted something to last for more than a year, they pretty much had to build it in such a way that it might last thousands of years.
Here in the New World, up in the mountains in Colorado, we often see old miners’ cabins in various stages of deconstruction, decay, stabilization, or restoration.
Miner’s Cabin, Colorado, photo by Liz O’Sullivan
A silver miner probably built the cabin in the photo above – silver mines operated near this cabin starting in the 1870’s – but the actual age of the cabin is unclear. It’s obviously no longer in use. It long ago outlived its usefulness in this terribly harsh spot over 12,000 feet above sea level, above treeline, directly below several 14,000 foot high mountain peaks, whose flanks still have old abandoned mines all over the place – yet the cabin remains. How long was this cabin supposed to last? We don’t know, but in order to build a habitable shelter that would withstand the fierce winds coming down from the mountain peaks, and the tremendous wintertime snow loads, for as long as the miner’s luck or determination held, the builder had to use materials accessible in this remote area (primarily evergreen trees cut from the forest nearby), and the available knowledge at the time. So it stands today, probably accidentally.
Today in most of the U.S. we have many choices of building materials and methods. Usually, the more durable and resilient materials are more expensive, so building owners who are building to hold for less than a decade are going to choose less-expensive materials so that they end up with buildings that serve them well, with little repair or expensive maintenance, for only as long as they intend to hold them. What happens next to the buildings doesn’t matter much to the first short-term owners. But owners who intend to hold buildings for the foreseeable future (maybe a university, a hospital, a public school, or a government) usually carefully consider and weigh the desired lifespan of the building, desired or budgeted maintenance and repair costs, and construction costs. Almost no one has an unlimited budget for construction costs, but some owners do have enough so that they can build in ways that most owners no longer build. Most people don’t pay for double-wythe clay masonry exterior walls as a general rule for institutional buildings, but at least one university that I know of has made this a standard for their campus in recent decades. Some owners only have enough construction budget to build their exterior walls with studs and OSB sheathing, even if their plan counts on the building’s lasting for more than 25 years. They just have to hope that no catastrophic water damage event occurs. In rising floodwaters, a building with an exterior wall assembly with less-durable or less-resilient materials that get soaked will fare much worse than a building with double-wythe clay masonry exterior walls, and may even have to be demolished well before the end of its originally-planned life.
Some old buildings accidentally ended up being long-lasting; some new buildings accidentally end up being temporary. Older methods of construction are more durable and resilient by default, and are more expensive. Some of our newer methods, which can pencil out to make more financial sense for an owner’s intentions for the building, cannot withstand some disasters, or even minor water damage over a long term, and buildings can end up being a total loss before their planned ends. What a waste, in the big picture.
But some buildings are actually meant to be truly temporary.
When Denver restaurants reopened after closing in the early days of Covid, they were allowed to apply for permits to expand seating into the right-of-way and parking lots. Denver has a sunny, dry climate, and if they can get it, restaurants have outdoor patio or sidewalk tables for diners – used almost all year round, even in winter, even when there is no pandemic, at sunny noontimes. We love to be outdoors. But it can get very, very cold in Denver in the fall, winter and spring. When Covid-19 combined with chilly weather, Denver saw a proliferation of small temporary buildings, set up on sidewalks, parking lots, and even streets near restaurants.
None of these temporary buildings is great. Many are small greenhouses with doors, repurposed to be tiny dining rooms with one table inside, scattered around parking lots or restaurant patios. Some are large event tents, set up on sidewalks or streets, with two ends open, and a mess of hoses, cables, and propane tanks to bring electricity and heat for a dozen tables of mostly-outdoor diners. Some are wood shed-type structures, with individual booths in partitioned areas under the roof, and curtains making up one wall. Denverites have been stepping over power cords on sidewalks and avoiding flapping plastic “walls” for months. The restauranteurs were lucky to get these structures – they quickly became hard to procure.
Last month, I ate inside at a restaurant for the first time in over 13 months, to celebrate my husband’s birthday. Well, we were inside, but technically we weren’t in the restaurant. We were in a very thoughtfully designed and constructed temporary “outdoor private bungalow” located on a before-times parking lot, 2 doors down from the restaurant. Instead of the quick-we-need-something-that-we-can-make-do-with approach that most restaurants seemed to take, this restaurant actually had their outdoor bungalows designed and constructed to fit their specific needs. The structures have no floors, but they have rugs. Ours was big enough for a table for 4, but didn’t feel too big for the 2 of us. Each structure has electric heating, nice lighting, a glass door on a closer, and a slider window next to the door. Interior wiring is concealed and thoughtfully routed, outdoor wiring and lighting were carefully installed. The bottoms of the walls are opaque, possibly fiber cement panels, the top parts of the walls are translucent polycarbonate. The roof, a white corrugated shed roof, drains thoughtfully. There are about 18 of these, most in rows of up to 6, with shared walls, in this parking lot.
Covid-Era Outdoor Dining Bungalows, Denver, photo by Liz O’Sullivan
How did one restaurant have such an ideal designed-to-order solution while others scrambled to make do with flimsy greenhouses or tents? Planning. If I recall correctly, this restaurant appeared to me to be late to the game of outdoor dining shelters – but now I know that was probably because they were planning and constructing, while others were popping ready-made things into place. In late September of 2020, the City of Denver announced that restaurants could apply to continue to operate in the public right-of-way or in parking lots through October 2021. So, that announcement set a lifespan of about a year for a temporary outdoor dining structure, one important known thing in a sea of unknowns. This restaurant has had a large following of loyal patrons for almost 3 decades. They kept up a curbside pickup program during the Covid-shutdown days. It’s located in a neighborhood where many people eat out many nights of the week and walk to their favorite restaurants. Employee turnover is low – servers work at the restaurant for years. So although no one could guarantee anything at any time during the early days of Covid, this restaurant is more stable than many, and was sure to have continued patronage at some minimum level.
The restaurant set some requirements for use of the “private bungalows” – reservations in advance, reservation deposits, fixed price 4-course menu only, and a strict 2-hour maximum use time limit, due to a neighborhood requirement that they close the outdoor dining at 10 pm on weekdays and 11 pm on weekends. This restaurant was able to determine some knowns on their own. But my guess is that the biggest piece of this puzzle had to be the permission to keep the outdoor dining bungalows erected through October 2021 – setting a lifespan. Presumably the restaurant could budget based on these things. (Knowing how much diners would spend, knowing the maximum amount of time they’d stay, knowing how long the private dining bungalows could stay in place.) The structures only have to be weathertight for a year. The windows and doors only have to operate smoothly and look good for a year. The thin solid walls only have to resist weathering and look okay for a year. In these very uncertain times, this restaurant was able to take the knowns set by the City, create some of their own knowns, and work with those to come up with a budget for their temporary structures.
Denver became full of temporary structures due to Covid. We have drive through tents and sheds for Covid testing set up in parking lots. There are hundreds of camping tents and tarps set up on unoccupied properties and the strip between sidewalk and street where increased numbers of people experiencing homelessness are living all over the city. Restaurants have the aforementioned strange little greenhouses for private outdoor dining. Our friends’ backyards began to include makeshift roofless enclosures around firepits for socially-distanced dead-of-winter small gatherings. As these things cropped up, I became interested in temporary structures in a way I never imagined I would. Mostly, I have wondered what will happen to the temporary structures when they are no longer needed, or when they start to fall apart. I’m always going to prefer that cities be filled with resilient long-lasting structures, but temporary buildings might continue to have their places in cities too – and these are better when they’re thoughtfully conceived and executed.
Water lapping at the first step of an entry, Doge’s Palace, Venice. This happens all the time, yet the centuries-old building, made of solid stone masonry, is still standing. Photo by Liz O’Sullivan
Some of the projects I work on experience many design changes between initial concept and completion of construction. On healthy projects, the most dramatic changes that I see occur after the schematic design phase, before the beginning of the construction documents phase. A few of these projects of mine have included “green roofs” (vegetated roofs) at the outset of the project. But those were gone before the construction documents phase started. I’m not sure who’s talking whom down from the roof, but it’s outta there, over and over again. Who brought the idea to the project? Was it just something that added a splash of color to the architect’s renderings? Had the owner always wanted to be able to walk in a garden while simultaneously enjoying a great view from a rooftop? Was everyone on board with a green roof until the contractor’s preliminary pricing came in?
Denver voters just passed the Green Roof Initiative last month, mandating vegetated roofs for certain buildings within the City limits. I wrote a commentary about this for the newsletter of our Denver Chapter of the Construction Specifications Institute. It includes a link to the text of the ordinance, and touches on the specifics of the initiative, some green roof risks for owners, and the loopholes in the ordinance. Here’s part of that:
“Denver voters faced Initiated Ordinance 300, the Denver Green Roof Initiative, in our recent election, and voted it in, by a small margin. What does this mean for building owners, developers, architects, engineers, contractors, roofing distributors and product representatives?” Continue reading…
Green roofs have benefits, mostly for the people who get to look out windows and see plants instead of roofing materials, but they can also mitigate urban heat island impacts, and help to improve the quality of stormwater before it hits municipal systems. Perhaps the most idealistic of the selling points made by the supporters of the Green Roof Initiative is the dream of rooftop urban farming. From the mission of the supporters: “Buildings are permitted to use the rooftop space for urban agriculture. This allows for the building to rent out their rooftop space to urban farmers who can then supply their goods around the city.” However, crops need a roof that meets more than just the minimum mandated by the ordinance. Here’s a basic overview of the 3 main types of green roofs. Some require beefier supporting structure, and more complex irrigation systems, than others.
Most owners who are merely looking to build a commercial building in the Denver area will do the minimum green roof, use a loophole to get out of building a green roof altogether, or build outside the City limits.
As I wrote in my commentary, “Building owners will have costs for their green roofs beyond the design and construction phases. They will have risks that owners without green roofs don’t have. Green roof plantings need to be maintained, cared for, and watered, forever. Insurance riders for green roofs will increase the costs of building insurance, but regular insurance policies usually exclude problems stemming from green roofs, so these will be necessary costs. Problems with the waterproofing components of green roof assemblies, discoverable only after moisture intrusion into buildings, are more difficult to diagnose and repair than problems with non-green-roof assemblies. Moisture intrusion is the most common cause of damage to buildings, and roofs are the parts of buildings that are most prone to moisture intrusion…”
Aesthetically, a green roofscape is a lovely goal for Denver, but building owners should not contribute to this blindly. They need to know what risks they are taking on. Sometimes people start projects without knowing a lot, then learn more as design goes on. (And then the green roofs on my projects aren’t there anymore.) In my work as a construction specifications consultant to architects, I expect to see a little bit more of the same pattern I’ve been seeing for my projects – green roofs that are there at schematic design, and gone before construction. Now you see ’em, now you don’t.
There’s an apartment building under construction near my office. The building’s marketing materials tout “Green Features” such as energy-efficient windows, low-e glazing, and energy-efficient lighting. That’s good, that’s all good.
But for some unknown reason, the juncture of the building wrap and those energy-efficient windows has been constructed using an inexpensive and outdated technique that does not produce an air-tight seal. In other words, those window units themselves may be energy-efficient, but the parts of the building enclosure that include those windows are likely to let hot air in during the summer and let warm air out during the winter. Not energy-efficient.
So, here’s some stuff I’ve said before, but am saying again:
Construction industry professionals cannot become “green skilled” without first becoming generally skilled. Being generally experienced in one’s field is a prerequisite to being “green” experienced.
A person without considerable experience in general architecture, engineering, or construction cannot be an effective “green skilled” employee for an architecture, engineering, or construction firm.
“Green” design and construction skills are icing on a cake made up of plain old experience and hard work. That icing cannot stand up by itself. You can’t just learn “green” design and construction skills and not bother with general design and construction skills.
Without an understanding of basic building technology, we can’t contribute much to green building initiatives.
Just as the IgCC (International Green Construction Code) is an overlay to the other ICC codes (such as the International Building Code), green building technology does not replace, but enhances, basic building technology.
A building that has green features such as energy-efficient windows, but that does not meet current standards for basic construction of the building envelope, is not a green building.
Yes, I contacted someone who might be able to do something about that weird window/building wrap juncture. He confirmed that it’s weird – informed me that it’s outdated, and also informed me that that installation is likely to void the building wrap’s warranty. I hope it can be fixed. I really, really care about buildings.
I often mention “building technology” in my blog posts. I’ve realized that I’m using a term that many people aren’t familiar with.
When I use the term “building technology,” I am not talking about information technology within a building. I am not talking about the software technologies used to design buildings. I’m not talking about only high-performance buildings. I am not talking about only new technologies in building systems.
I am talking about “technology” in terms of its most basic, stripped-down definition: “1. The practical application of knowledge especially in a particular area. 2. A manner of accomplishing a task especially using technical processes, methods, or knowledge.” (Definition is from Merriam Webster.)
And I am talking about “building” as defined by Webster, too: “The art or business of assembling materials into a structure.”
When I use the term “building technology,” I mean knowledge of the technical processes and methods of assembling buildings. Drawing proper construction details requires understanding building technology. Identifying conflicts between the construction documents and the way things are being built on the job site requires understanding building technology.
Knowledge of building technology is an important part of the practice of architecture, but it’s an area in which many of today’s young architects are weak. This is an area in which I was weak, until I started writing specs and suddenly had starting points for researching my questions (or rather, I suddenly realized what questions I ought to be asking).1
We hear a lot about high-performance new technologies in buildings, but somehow, we seem to have lost the basics of knowledge about detailing foundation, roof, and exterior wall assemblies that meet the minimum of the applicable code requirements.
Without an understanding of basic building technology, an architect cannot properly prepare construction documents for submittal to the authorities having jurisdiction for the purposes of obtaining a building permit.
From the 2009 International Building Code (which has been adopted by many municipalities), Chapter 1, 107.2.4 “Exterior Wall Envelope”:
“Construction documents for all buildings shall describe the exterior wall envelope in sufficient detail to determine compliance with this code. The construction documents shall provide details of the exterior wall envelope as required, including flashing, intersections with dissimilar materials, corners, end details, control joints, intersections at roof, eaves or parapets, means of drainage, water-resistive membrane and details around openings.”
Without an understanding of basic building technology, an architect cannot demonstrate (to an owner, to a contractor, or to the building department) the constructability of a design. A building is not made up of bits and pieces erected next to each other; a building is composed of interrelated systems and assemblies that work together to contribute to the building’s proper functioning. If these components are not carefully selected, specified, and detailed, with the designer taking into account these components’ effects on all the other parts of the building, the completed building may not be able to protect its occupants from drafts, moisture intrusion, mold, condensation, cold, outside noise, or excessive heat.
When I worked as a project architect, I often put off the detailing of tricky conditions until the last possible time. I know that some other architects do, too. Drawing construction details is hard work. There are other, more fun, more easily achieved, tasks that also must be accomplished before a set of construction documents is finished. But waiting to detail the tough transitions is a problem – when we finally get into the meat of these things, sometimes we realize that the assumptions we’d carried all along were incorrect, and we need a taller parapet, or we need more rigid insulation in the cavity, or we need a building expansion joint.
This detailing work can be less tedious, less torturous, and less time-consuming when we have more knowledge and more understanding of these things. We produce better construction documents, and help to get better buildings built, when we know more about building technology.
Without an understanding of basic building technology, we can’t contribute much to high-performance building initiatives, such as those by the Building Enclosure Technology and Environment Council (BETEC) of the National Institute of Building Sciences (NIBS), and the U.S. Department of Energy’s Energy Efficiency & Renewable Energy Building Technologies Program, the U.S. Green Building Council, and many cities and states. Just as the IgCC (International Green Construction Code) is an overlay to the other ICC codes (such as the International Building Code), high-performance building technology does not replace, but enhances, basic building technology.
But… who’s teaching architects about basic building technology today?
Architecture school curricula have gotten heavier on design; architecture graduates are supposed to learn almost everything else they need to know during their internships. But as more and more knowledgeable gray-haired architects retire, many of the mentors for interns and young architects know less about basic building technology than the mentors of the past.
CSI (the Construction Specifications Institute) recognizes this problem, and is currently exploring the concept of a Building Technology Education Program. The task team for this program has been charged with formulating “the concept of a building technology education program for participants in the design/construction industry that will benefit the industry by raising the technical knowledge of the participants.” I don’t think a program like this exists today, and I don’t think that any other organization is working on anything comprehensive like this proposed education program.2
This program is envisioned as being for everyone in the construction industry – not just for intern architects and emerging professionals. (Architects, remember: we’re part of the construction industry.) The more that everyone in the industry can understand the concept that all parts of a building are interrelated, and that a modification to one assembly may require modifications to other assemblies, the more effective all of us in the construction industry can be.
Here are some links to past blog posts of mine that discuss technical weakness in architects – including my own past technical weakness. I have greatly increased my understanding of building technology – anyone can.
Here’s the roster of the Building Technology Education Program Task Team on the CSI website http://new.csinet.org/csi_services/committees.aspx. (Scroll down to “FY 2013 Building Technology Education Task Team.”) If you have suggestions for the team, please contact one of the members.
There’s a Frank Lloyd Wright-designed house in Phoenix that’s at risk of being demolished in a couple of months. Here’s the New York Times article about it. After Mike Brady, Frank Lloyd Wright is the most famous American architect ever,1 so how is this happening? How is it possible that cool buildings designed by famous architects can get knocked down? The answer is that sometimes the people who want to save them just get there too late.
But this post isn’t about “The Brady Bunch,” Frank Lloyd Wright, or mid-century modern homes. It’s about Denver and its heritage. Right here in Denver, buildings by less famous architects, buildings that are integral parts of their neighborhoods, buildings that are important parts of the city’s history, are at risk.
Once in a while, a century-old masonry building, that, with careful maintenance, would still be around for another 100 years, gets razed to make way for new construction. Most of the new construction in Denver is unlikely to last as long as 50 years. This type of replacement is not sustainable, this is not green, this is not good for Denver’s urban fabric and its urban dwellers. People need to become aware of these buildings early, before they become at risk of destruction. Sure, there are property rights issues that arise sometimes, but if we start talking about rights, we cannot ignore the property rights of the surrounding property owners, and the rights of the citizens to these parts of their heritage.
On to the cool pictures of the old buildings – or the links to them, anyway…
Two really special buildings that I’ve been in recently, the Croke-Patterson-Campbell Mansion and the Wilbur S. Raymond House, have been preserved and restored, and are currently the homes to a couple of bed and breakfasts.
Here’s a great old photo of Denver’s Croke-Patterson-Campbell Mansion, taken in 1892. It looks almost too fantastic to be real. The building has since lost some of that magnificent chimney, and many of the finials, but it’s still breathtakingly beautiful – here’s a recent photo (scroll down after the page opens). The Croke-Patterson-Campbell Mansion has just started to operate as a bed and breakfast, the Patterson Inn.
Sadly, much of the original neighborhood fabric around the Croke-Patterson-Campbell Mansion has been lost. But the Wilbur S. Raymond House is very much a part of a historic Denver neighborhood, the Wyman Historic District. Here’s an old photo of the Raymond House. It’s been the Castle Marne Bed and Breakfast since 1989. This is my favorite image of the more recent images I’ve found online. Here’s a good image showing its famous roses.
The neighborhood fabric and the Wilbur S. Raymond House enhance and enrich each other. Cities aren’t made up of scattered signature buildings, and historic preservation shouldn’t be approached in that manner, either. Cities are composed of neighborhoods, which are composed of buildings of varying significance. We need to protect special buildings, but we need to go a step further and also protect the individual historic buildings that may not be as prominent, but without which, historic neighborhoods would not be complete. Obviously, important buildings are at risk (such as that Frank Lloyd Wright house in Phoenix). But neighborhood fabric buildings may be even more at risk.
Historic buildings are irreplaceable, whether they’re outstanding, or more “background” buildings. As an architect and architectural specifications writer, and the owner of an old house, I’m intimately familiar with the differences between the construction practices of today and the construction practices of a century ago. Buildings are not built the way they used to be. In other words, “they don’t make ‘em like that anymore.” (“They” could, but “they” don’t.) Old masonry buildings are more durable, they can take much more neglect and mistreatment, than new buildings (even new buildings with brick on the outside). It’s because of building science – a topic for another post.
Architects, engineers, and constructors cannot make up for occupant behavior in most new construction, but old buildings, with plaster finishes, hardwood floors, and multi-wythe loadbearing masonry exterior walls, can take some abuse and neglect from occupants, and will continue to be able to withstand use. Old buildings can often be adapted to new uses, whereas buildings built in the last 50 years are usually difficult to use for purposes other than their original uses. Multi-wythe masonry walls and plaster finishes are more forgiving of moisture intrusion than buildings built with newer methods of brick veneer on exterior framing, and gypsum board finishes.
People used to build with multi-wythe masonry and plaster because they didn’t have other good options. Today, we have less-expensive (and less-durable) options, which have made multi-wythe masonry and plaster much more expensive options. If you want a durable building, in the long run, it’s probably a better value to use what you already have… and preserve an old building.
I encourage people who are interested in helping to preserve our built heritage to get involved with local preservation groups. If you live in Greater Capitol Hill in Denver, as I do, your local preservation group is the CHUN (Capitol Hill United Neighborhoods) Historic Preservation Committee. (If you don’t know what your group is, but want to get involved, leave a comment on this post and I’ll help you find your group.)
I have to thank Jules Dingle for the Mike Brady comment. Sophomore year in college, Jules said that Mike Brady is the most famous American architect. Obviously, that comment still cracks me up today.
For further reading:
In 1967, the City of Denver, in the Landmark Preservation Ordinance in the Municipal Code, declared that “the protection, enhancement, perpetuation and use of structures and districts of historical, architectural or geographic significance, located within the city or its mountain parks, is a public necessity, and is required in the interest of the prosperity, civic pride and general welfare of the people.” And that “the economic, cultural and aesthetic standing of this city cannot be maintained or enhanced by disregarding the historical, architectural and geographic heritage of the city and by ignoring the destruction or defacement of such cultural assets.”
Denver’s ordinance followed the National Historic Preservation Act of 1966, in which the U.S. decided that“the preservation of this irreplaceable heritage is in the public interest so that its vital legacy of cultural, educational, aesthetic, inspirational, economic, and energy benefits will be maintained and enriched for future generations of Americans,” and that “although the major burdens of historic preservation have been borne and major efforts initiated by private agencies and individuals, and both should continue to play a vital role, it is nevertheless necessary and appropriate for the Federal Government to accelerate its historic preservation programs and activities, to give maximum encouragement to agencies and individuals undertaking preservation by private means, and to assist State and local governments and the National Trust for Historic Preservation in the United States to expand and accelerate their historic preservation programs and activities.”
We’re doing some maintenance work on our home, a 1904 brick foursquare in Denver (a “Denver Square”). Someone painted the brick years before we bought it, and it’s time for fresh paint. Preparation of the brick for repainting revealed that we needed much more repointing (tuckpointing) of the mortar joints than I had anticipated. So… what does that mean?
Old brick buildings are really interesting. The brick is often pretty “soft,” and the mortar is even “softer.” By soft, I mean that you can gouge it or wear it away pretty easily; it’s, well, kind of weak. Our house has butter joints – really skinny mortar joints – with mortar color that matched the brick color. The house must have been so beautiful before someone came up with the “genius” idea of painting the brick… but I suspect that they painted because they thought they could substitute painting for repointing those mortar joints. Well, now we’re repainting AND repointing, so THAT didn’t work! Whoever made that decision decades ago really wasn’t acting in the best interests of the house. Sometimes, it’s better to do nothing at all than to do the wrong thing to a building.
Masonry walls need to be able to let water out, and need to be able to let water VAPOR out, and individual bricks in a wall need to be able to move a bit, in case they expand due to water absorption. Yes, bricks are a bit porous, and water gets into brick walls. You just can’t keep water out, so you always need to provide ways for it to GET out. Unless you want damaged bricks, you need the bricks to be able to move, and you need the brick wall to be able to “breathe,” at the locations of the mortar joints, so you need the mortar to be “softer” than the brick (weaker and more porous).
When it’s time to do repairs on an old brick building, you need someone who knows how to do it right. (Mortar-in-a-tube is not the right thing to use on an old building! Old mortar was made with much more lime than today’s mixes have – for old masonry, you really need a specialist.) We hired a mason who specializes in restoration of historic masonry. No, we didn’t need some of the fancy things that masonry restorers are capable of doing, such as matching new mortar color to the existing historic mortar color. (Ours will be painted over). But not everything that we do for buildings is for appearances. Much of what the caretakers (you know, the owners) of old buildings need to be doing is for the long-term FUNCTIONING and durability of the buildings. Building elements that function well, and are durable for the long-term, contribute greatly to the beauty of buildings.
Durability should be a primary focus of the sustainable (green) building movement. Build buildings well in the first place, maintain them properly over the years, and keep all that embodied energy in our cities instead of sending it off to landfills. Some well-meaning people are trying to ram an ethic of sustainability into a throw-away society, and it’s just not gonna work unless we develop, train, and properly compensate, our skilled building tradespeople, and develop in homeowners a strong sense of needing to care for their buildings, instead of just selling and leaving when maintenance needs present themselves.
I got off an important tangent up there. Back to that paint – the new paint is a necessary evil for my house, since someone already painted the brick years ago. Paint that is firmly attached to old brick should not be removed – removing the paint almost always removes the toughest part of the brick – the part that got fired. The inside of the brick is a bit softer than the exterior fired surface, so once a historic brick building has been painted, it should remain painted. Removing the paint could cause the brick to slowly erode away. However – you want paint that will not keep water in that wall. You want paint that can “breathe.” Flat paint typically is more vapor permeable than glossy paint, and latex paint is more vapor permeable than alkyd or oil-based paint, so if you have to paint brick, use flat latex paint. I wanted flat paint for aesthetic reasons, so I was thrilled to find out from Diane Travis at the Rocky Mountain Masonry Institute that I was on the right track functionally with flat paint because of its higher vapor permeability. Diane emailed me this great brochure on “Maintenance and Repair of Older Masonry Buildings” when I contacted her for masonry contractor recommendations. The brochure is a good resource, and so is the Rocky Mountain Masonry Institute! You can download a copy of the brochure if you click here.
Regarding those skilled tradespeople – I got two recommendations for masonry contractors who specialize in historic masonry repair and restoration. Both contractors were highly recommended, and were recommended by more than one person. Both do commercial and residential work. I met with Gary Holt of Olde English Masonry and John Voelker of Cornerstone Restoration, and we hired Cornerstone because of schedule availability. Cornerstone did great work. If you need a masonry specialist, either contractor would be great. They’re both busy, so plan ahead. Your old brick building deserves to be maintained by an expert. While you’re the caretaker of an old brick building, do the right thing for your brick.
We have storm windows on the outside of the original windows on our century-old house in Denver. From inside our home, I get to enjoy the wavy character of the old glass and the beauty of the old wood. I try to discourage neighbors and friends from window replacement, and encourage them to get storm windows instead. LEED® encourages window replacement, but it shouldn’t. Here’s why, taken straight from a publication by the National Institute of Building Sciences:
“LEED® fails to acknowledge that historic windows are important features and that their energy efficiency can be upgraded. LEED® encourages the use of highly energy efficient windows, which often requires the removal of historic windows that are potentially reusable. Moreover, original windows are character-defining features of historic buildings and their removal can significantly alter a structure’s integrity, thus conflicting with preservation goals and the Secretary’s Standards.
“With proper maintenance, windows built from old growth wood can function indefinitely and their performance can be substantially bolstered by using storm windows, caulk, and weather-stripping. Studies have shown that these simple improvements can result in efficiency similar to that of new insulated glass windows. Modern windows also have a relatively short lifespan and can be difficult, if not impossible, to repair. Once modern windows fail, there are few ways they can be recycled, and they will likely end up in landfills. This begins an environmentally insensitive cycle of removal and replacement.
“Therefore, the most responsible approach is to retain historic windows that last and retrofit them with increased effectiveness rather than install new windows that, without exception, will fail and cannot be repaired. Regrettably, the replacement window industry is strong, and old windows are touted as poor performers, so the common practice of replacing windows in not likely to change much in the immediate future. To combat this, LEED® should consider awarding points for the repair and continued use of old windows where significant improvements in energy efficiency are demonstrated, as well as where significant amounts of historic fabric are being retained and reused.” – National Institute of Building Sciences, Whole Building Design Guide, WBDG13 “Strategies for Sustainable Historic Preservation”
The bold text above highlights the important issue. The most sustainable thing to use is what you already have, especially when it’s as precious as a historic window.
Comments From a Spec Writer 
