The Red Barn Effect

With my observations of the rapid aging of modernist monuments throughout the globe, I find myself pondering the building process relative to historic means of building structures. What is the effect of weather and time on otherwise, more contemporary detailing with its smooth surfaces, the use of petroleum-based sealants and treatments, additives, and synthetics, to this substantial portfolio of civic and vernacular buildings? I ask myself: what stands the test of time and weather like an old sage? The simple red barn comes to mind, as both an iconic building with its details and materiality. Combined, these factors form a bond with the image, rendering the barn a more powerful example of how an aging building can turn from vinegar into wine.

Using the personal example of a mid-century house located in Minot, North Dakota, that, through the years, has been bought and sold by multiple parties. The original owner was an architect, and utilized a modernist design language when designing both the house and landscaping. The current condition of the property’s landscaping has all but disappeared and the house appears cluttered with debris. Lost was the once eloquent structure standing in well considered landscaping. When comparing it adjacent to the suburban styled homes on the same block, they appear in better condition, as if the owners know what to expect and subsequently, understand the architectural language and how it should be cared for and maintained. Modernism is not a dialect, but a new language that must be learned, and unfortunately, demands an understanding of its design principles to keep congruent with its original design precepts.

When a modern building is juxtaposed with the “the red barn, a symbol of the agrarian past, the barn appears timeless and imbued with a sense of belonging. TA modern suburban structure seems to express an accelerated aging process and can appear incongruent. This is not an advocation of the ubiquitous red barn, or more over, a historic building style, but more an inquiry to a design approach that best survives over time, almost Darwinian in nature, and related to buildings “fit” within the environment. Antecedents that are best suited for the climate in which they are found, typically rely on passive design elements in lieu of active mechanical systems. And yes, these structures are commonly retrofitted with modern mechanical and electrical systems. But even if their passive techniques are inadequate, the vernacular style, when equipped with new building science strategies, are buildings have “defined Place through time”.

How might a community “in time” appear? Verrado, a master-planned community located in the city of Buckeye, Arizona, approximately 25 miles (40 km) west of downtown Phoenix, is a New Urbanism community. Here, traditional building forms and community patterning set the baseline for an extended projection of time and continuity. Yes, not the modernist experiment, but certainly a steady, unified vision for and about the collective whole over time. Time, in this case, is the key element in the planning and execution of this community. In 50 years hence, most likely the building forms will only mature, since the landscaping and aging of materials will contribute to the authenticity of the Place. Because of when it was constructed and the stylistic restrictions imposed on the structures, the community aesthetic will reinforce the belief that the development is conceived and built in a time before modernism, therefore giving it the perception of time. The restriction of styles gives the development continuity. The street and building patterning and organization reinforce a sense of community. Therefore, “Place” results when three or more elements are consistently applied to an organized area to better substantiate the perception of time, resulting in desirable conditions for living. These desirable aspects include walkability, integration of landscape into a natural order that reinforces the street with episodic parks and greenswards that incorporate desirable natural open spaces. Proportionately scaled private and public buildings, effective lighting, and a mindful proximity of functions to one another with form based zoning, as commercial retail is clustered with mixed use, and neighborhood housing includes different types of housing forms and shapes, and follows a logical placement within the community mapping as a whole.

Verrado’s main civic park is located at the end of Main Street. Axial and formal, the park is an open space, bounded by tree lined streets and subtle changes in elevation that result in broad steps, stairs, fountains, and follies. The image is fanciful, suggestive of a time and place of leisure and relaxation, while also supporting a nostalgic time. Time, in this community, IS the main idea! The community becomes a time machine, an act of preservation that extends effortlessly into the future. Not the position of modernism, and its heroic forecasting of the future, which once the future arrives, becomes recessive, and out of date with time itself. Long before its time ceases to exist, modernism appears to lack the vitality of its historic antecedent. There is a strange irony here, how the historic building is perceived in present time, while the present or modern building, becomes simply, past time.

The question of whether modernism can remain malleable with respect to time, or perhaps, if modernism itself, is its own achievement within the spectrum of time? Of course, a successful modern community never disqualifies itself from the three principles espoused earlier, since livability is a preeminent quality of any successful neighborhood. In Santa Fe, New Mexico, the built environment keeps pace with the past and contributes to the city’s moniker “the city different”. Although the city exhibits a history of myriad of styles, the evolution of its current incarnation of itself, the built environment, is one of a preindustrial past. This vision continues to attract those seeking a sense of Place, especially since it is conveniently mixed with modern comforts.

If Santa Fe reinforces a singular vision with multiple types of styles-with the caveat all styles are preindustrial. Las Vegas, Nevada is a plethora of style and no matter how well done, the effect is divided and not cohesive, rather discordant, because each building defines its unique commercial enterprise. When partaking on the strip, one can live as a Roman, a Parisian, or as one from another defined period from civilization’s card catalog past. The effect is temporary, however, as most likely either visits or works on the strip but doesn’t live there. The saying “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” may prove true for its denizens, yet for the lifestyle tourist, a trip to Vegas suggests a time travel of the imagination and the freedom to choose what era to immerse the self in decadent behavior. Here, architecture’s purpose is to act as a prop, a mere device that reinforces the temporal fantasy of the Place, and it might be said, a Place, nonetheless. As more modern and mid-century buildings are lost within the surrounding historic spectacle, they too, are seen more and more as unforgiving edifices erected in a brutal period. Their solid planes of singular, tactile materials that dwarf human scale, rest astride historic structures of texture and articulation and act as signifiers to memorable places. Try as a night’s events may, the Vegas Strip is both Place and failure of Place, as a sense time disappears altogether, that renders a perfect 24-hour day experience. Time is a valuable teacher when creating an edifice of a lasting nature, as with every building, even the simple red barn, it has hoped these new and contributing buildings, great and small, become symbols of the Place where they stand.