#202: TO BE OR NOT TO BE CONTEXTUAL

February 28, 2025

Should the cabin on the left be the context for the new residential building on the right? Whitefish, Montana, by Poon Design (photo by Anthony Poon)

Context is discussed often in architecture. A project’s surroundings—whether a fabric of Cape Cod homes, a conglomerate of steel and glass high-rises, or the industrial vibe of a warehouse district—are a critical item on the design agenda. Should the architect mimic this context, use it as a point of departure, or ignore it and stand in protest?

The Roman temple, Maison Carree, in the foreground, with the new museum, Carre d’Art, in the background (photo from fosterandpartners.com)

The default position is to sympathetically match the context. Like an addition to a house, the owner typically chooses for the addition to be seamless with the original. But for some architects, this approach would be deemed boring. Architects don’t want to copy; they want to be original—whether through a clever reinterpretation of the context or disregarding it altogether.

Sometimes, the context surrounding a project is thought of literally and simplistically. If the environs comprise Spanish Colonial Revival-style structures, then the incoming project should also be Spanish Colonial Revival applying arches, columns, thick stucco walls and clay tile roofs. This would be argued as being responsibly contextual. In fact, many communities invoke specific requirements for the well-intentioned but overly general, “neighborhood compatibility, harmony, and consistency.”

But context is much more than visual appeal, such as architectural style, roof shape and paint colors. Context also includes how scale, proportions, expression, gestalt, and such abstract and powerful ideas that comprise a design.

Street view of Carre d’Art (photo by Mary Ann Sullivan)

When British architect, Norman Foster, completed the 1993 Carre d’Art, the city of Nimes, France, was not just disappointed but up in arms. Foster’s museum design used glass, concrete and steel, and did so in the most contemporary of ways. The apparent problem was one of context, which included the adjacent Maison Carree, a carefully preserved Roman temple from the 1st century AD. Of Foster’s glassy boxy museum, answers were demanded.

Why doesn’t this modern building match the historical temple and the traditional surrounding buildings?
Where are the Corinthian-style fluted columns?
Why is this project not contextual?

Axonometric design drawing of Carre d’Art (from fosterandpartners.com)

The general public failed to understand the abstract nature of context. Because the context included Neoclassical columns, it was expected that the museum would too. Because the context employed a traditional stone exterior, it was expected that the museum would too. And so on.

Model of Carre d’Art (from fosterandpartners.com)

But this architect had a different approach. He suggested that the city of Nimes was known for its quality of natural light, a graceful luminosity. Foster claimed that this light was the context, not the old buildings. The new elegant glass museum captured this light and embraced it, and in so doing, the design was indeed contextual.

Interior of Carre d’Art (photo by Michael Dant on Flickr)

#144: THE NECESSARY EVIL OF PLANNED COMMUNITIES?

November 26, 2021

Too much of the same? (photo by David McBee on Pexels)

I have designed within a number of planned communities, meaning neighborhoods where architectural guidelines are provided, sometimes dictated. At such communities, the architectural look and feel—from building height and size to materials and colors, from specific styles to window proportions—are regulated for the sake of “neighborhood compatibility, harmony, and consistency”–and other such righteous words.

Community at Linea, Palm Springs, by Poon Design and Andrew Adler (photos by Anthony Poon)

Let’s start with the good in planned communities. With cities that have architectural guidelines and a smart review committee to enforce said guidelines, the streets will maintain a congruent and agreeable character. No single building will stand out like a sore thumb. Residents can rely on a visually pleasant environment.

But who establishes such rules in the first place, and who stands by them? There are good guidelines and there are bad. Mostly, I find that planned communities have bad and narrow guidelines, ideas that actually favor bad design and result in poorly conceived architecture. And here’s a common piece of knowledge: the city committees charged to create the standards and carry them out are rarely professionals in the architecture industry or any related design industry. Mostly, these committee members are lay citizens eager to hold a political position, and they have limited expertise in determining if a proposed design suits the design intent of the stated parameters.

The suburban monotony of same ol’ same ol’ (photo by Michael Tuszynski on Pexels)

Formulas have a purpose, but not when they limit individuality and progress—not when the result is monotony and boredom. Many planned cities not only require each building to be similar, but that each building be more of the exact same. Does the phrase, “cookie cutter” come to mind? Some architectural guidelines will not only dictate the two types of roofing materials allowed within the city boundaries, but also the supplier of said roof material. Kickback, anyone? One unfortunate example comes to mind where the roof material required by the city is an inferior product compromising durability and safety. Yet, the city still mandates the use of the compromised product. Because in the minds of design committees, “rules are rules.”

Not the compromised product, just a nice picture of a roof (photo by Hans Braxmeier from Pixabay)

Many design-driven architects tend to stay away from these communities of limits. Not because we won’t get to flex our creative egos, but because there will always be the point where our clients won’t get what they had hoped for, because they want something that the town’s architectural guidelines prevent them from having, like maybe a subtle evolution or interpretation of one of the rules. But the judgmental non-professionals on the review committees cannot separate the concept of design intent vs. the literal application of rules.

Lastly, it certainly seems arbitrary when the committee decides that the proposed design doesn’t meet well-intentioned but meaningless rules such as, “All building designs should be a positive complementary enhancement to the existing architecture, quality of life, and character of the community, through scale, character, shape, form, and relationship to surrounding neighborhood.” What does this mean, and who is to judge?

Tag Archives: NEIGHBORHOOD COMPATIBILITY