Friday, December 23, 2011

Specification grade

We recently completed a residential project as the design-build entity; we designed and the built the project. Because of cost constraints, I found myself choosing alternative products a couple times. Each product alternative had its own rationale, and I found myself wondering about the specification process architects go through, whether we are serving our clients by specifying top-quality all the time.
One product was a roof drain. I originally specified Zurn Z-125 brass roof drains. These run $200 each. We ran into a procurement snag which could have negatively affected schedule, and the plumbing supply house suggested a PVC subsitute. These cost $48 each. Well, the PVC drains work. I am quite happy with them, and realize now they should have been my first choice.
A second product was for decking boards. I originally wanted to use Meranti, which is sold as a Phillipine mahogany. I've used it before, and it's really nice. However, the price has gone up quite a bit in the last few years, and so I asked the local building supply store to provide pricing for about six different options. We ended up choosing Western Red Cedar, which I love, and which happens to be about the least expensive (in STK grade- select tight knots) decking out there. Plastic lumber turns out to be more expensive than ipe, which surprised me.
I third product was for structural silicone sealant. We did a lot of research on this, and specified Dow 795, which runs about $7 per tube. Well, we didn't need anything that expensive, and ended up using a locally stocked Dow silicone sealant. I'll use the 795 on a subsequent project where we truly need a structural silicone, but it was silly of me to specify the 795 for this project.
Could the PVC drains, the Western Red Cedar and the silicone withstand comparison using life cycle costing? I think so. What is more intriguing is that my thought process changed when I stopped wearing my architect hat and put on my contractor's hat. It would be helpful if I did that at the start of construction documents, when I'm detailing and specifying. Perhaps that is what CDs are: when you stop being the cape-wearing architect and put on your toolbelt, thinking, how am I going to build this thing, on time and on budget?

Thursday, December 22, 2011

How much do you need to know?

We are a small firm. Sometimes, it seems like it's just me. Other times, we are proud of our 4-person status. Either way, we are small.
To deal with the difficulty in competing against large firms when we are so small, we have traditionally tried to become really good at a whole series of tasks. We have also attempted (and are attempting again) to develop partnerships with other firms.
But as I contemplate what it takes to build a building, I realized there are quite a lot of tasks involved, and wonder whether one person could possibly do it all.
First, there's programming. This can be a specialty. There are people working for large firms who are programmers. That's all they do! How many other tasks could be single-person careers?
Marketing.
Contracts.
Code analysis.
Schematic design (these are the flowing capes and cool haircut crowd)
Energy modeling.
Detailing
Project management
Specifications
Life cycle costing
Construction administration
Interiors
Librarian
CAD manager
IT

And this list does not include the fun stuff, like research, strategic visioning, or all the professional community tasks, like AIA and CSI involvement. The more I think about it, the more I think about the phrase "head splitting."

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Money-making intellectuals

I met an acquaintance for a sit-down today; she has been a political operative for some years now, and wants to return to her original loves: art, design, writing. She's a creative, that's for sure. Trouble is, she's in Eastern Maine, and there's not a lot of market for creative thinkers and artists. Sure, there are artists around, and there are creatives. But this art and creativity is consumed mostly by summer people, not by natives. And, the stuff that sells is not always the critically interesting work; it tends to be the stuff that mirrors what people love about Maine: rustic beauty, tradition, simplicity.
These traits are good, and I'm glad they are here. But as we talked about the improbability of making a living in Eastern Maine being an art critic, it became clear we both shared the same realization, that our digs did not appreciate the intellectual. I have gone to several artist open houses and commented on composition, and I get this blank stare from the artist. They often do not look at their own work critically. They often do not curate their work. In other words, they have no critical framework through which they organize their body of work. How can this be?
If there is no need for critical exposition or curatorial organization, then what we are faced with is a region that is operating as an unstructured region, devoid of consciousness. This may be too harsh an indictment, but I think in a way folk art is just that: art without reflection.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

On Reading Safescape

I'm reading "Safescape", by Al Zelinka and Dean Brennan.
Nobody wants to be unsafe.
However...
And this is a big "however" because I moved to rural Maine partly so my children would be growing up in a safe environment:
Is there a difference between "safe" and "good" design? Which begs the question, what do we mean by good design?
There is a time when the community is so strong, and the impacts of humanity so small, that no design is necessary to have a safe, healthy environment. That is probably what rural living is all about. It's not just that the houses are far apart. It's that people have a surplus of freedom, so their natural inclination is to be friendly in public. There are so few people, you have to be nice to strangers.
When populations get dense, trouble brews, and you have to be more careful. You have to design your physical environment to minimize opportunities for trouble. When does a community cross that line? When do they know they have crossed the line? Is there a way to go back?

On Being a Planner

I've worked at a lot of scales; when you build, you work at 1:1 scale. During schematic design, we often work at 1/16th scale, which is really 1:192. Shop drawings are done at 1:4 or even 1:2.
Urban planning is done at 1:90,000. Now that's a scale.
But the truth of the matter is, once one knows how design is a matter of collecting, organizing, and then synthesizing knowledge, the planning process is not so distant from the shop drawing process. The sensory input is different: we're no longer interested in the tactile, or the resolution of structural stresses, or the watertightness of a flashing system. Rather, we are interested in populations, their interactions, their selfish decisions compounded by sheer numbers of them. We start to concern ourselves with sense of place, with those places being of the neighborhood, or community, or even the region.
And as much as it may seem rude to say it, the planning profession has been wrong just as many times as the architectural design professions.

Friday, November 4, 2011

The culture bar

We had a good moment frame erection (yes, that's the proper term) today on our garage project. This is a design-build project of ours, and my wife Robyn was out there with me today, setting HSS5x5 columns ahead of the C10 beam arrival. Everything went smoothly, except for one little glitch: our concrete frost walls were a little weak, and we had a partial crack develop around one threaded anchor. We know how to fix this, and will, but what irks me is that our concrete sub poured such bad concrete. Part of this is my fault. I let him put way too much water in the mix, and I shouldn't have. But when you are on a pour with an old curmudgeon in charge, your options are limited. I had hoped we would be OK, and in the end I have to pay for the mistake by spending an hour or so correcting the cracked area.
The lesson here is that the construction culture of a region dictates the probable quality level of work one can cajole out of subs, and in this area of Maine, good concrete work is not a part of the culture. The corollary to this is, it's difficult to come from an area of really good concrete culture to an area of really bad concrete culture without getting frustrated. Is there an opportunity here? Probably.

Monday, October 31, 2011

Framing

There is something immensely satisfying when the geometry on a framing project works out. Framing is all about cutting lumber to some dimension, and hoping each piece ends up plumb, or level, or square, as the case may be. When all this cutting and nailing ends up working, it's really nice. You see, when we look out into reality, we don't see a rectilinear grid. We see trees, topography, rocks. They don't have a Euclidean order about them. They may have a fractal order, or simply be chaotically arranged, but most of the dwellings we build have right angles, with plumb walls and level floors. To create something rectilinear where before there was chaos and fractals is an accomplishment.
What's more, since my work is rarely rectilinear in its entirety, it's also pleasing to find out that we can throw in some curves, some syncopation, so odd geometry, and still use math to figure out where it all belongs.
Since my thinking at this time is often about education, I think about framing and teaching math. And I think there is something to be learned. As always.

Sunday, October 30, 2011

What have we been doing up till now?

Here's my take (or take-away) on RTI:
The goal in Response to Intervention (RTI) is to maximize the number of students making adequate progress in the general classroom. The goal appears to be around 80 percent: 15 percent may need some targeted support, and 5 percent may need intensive support. RTI is a structured method for assessing and identifying students who are beginning to fall behind. The theory seems to be that if the slipping is caught soon enough, and if the entire resources of the school are available to help, then the goal can be met.
This begs the question: We haven't been doing this? It seems so obvious! Have we been doing it kinda, but just not formally?
Here's my take on performance evaluation:
You mean we're NOT paying for performance? In actuality, the private sector often provides for pay raises tied to age: every year, you might get a raise. But every year, you might also be taking on more responsibility, or be doing more. For instance, you might be managing bigger projects, or have more people under you. In the classroom, a 25-year old teacher may be teaching 20 third-graders, and 20 years later, still be teaching 20 third graders. Where's the change in responsibility? If we are going to pay a teacher more, shouldn't they be doing more? Perhaps they have more students, or more administrative duties, or mentor responsibilities.

Friday, October 28, 2011

The 2011 Maine School Management Association conference

I just got back from the MSMA conference in Augusta. A few thoughts:
I hate window-less rooms.
That said, my first "clinic" was Re-inventing Educator performance Systems: A Collaborative Approach. My former boss, Bill Webster, is now Superintendent of the Lewiston Public School System, where they received a grant to implement a program of educator accountability (performance measuring)and professional growth to try to bring about greater student achievement. Bill comes from the private sector, and I know he has thought to himself, 'if we can pay for performance in the private sector, why can't we do it in public education?' The answer is, you can, and they are going to do it in Lewiston. The secret is buy-in from stakeholders during the design of the new system,and professional growth to support the new accountability paradigm. This was the first of several times in the conference where the "they do it in the private sector, why can't it work in public education?" threaded to the surface.
Clinic 2 was on RTI, or response to intervention. RTI is a middle point between an individualized education program (IEP) for a student with a learning disability, and the regular classroom. The big take-away for me was that a school needs to act in concert when a student starts to fall through the cracks. Often, the problem is behavioral (messy divorce going on, poverty). But these kids who need a little extra can get that help early on and avoid a downward spiral. Why doesn't the regular assessment process catch this? Why is RTI a trendy thing? What's going wrong in our schools to make RTI popular?
Clinic 3 was "The Changing World of Teacher Bargaining: How National and Maine Reforms Affect Your Negotiations." I haven't been a part of teacher bargaining, but I have to admit I'm looking forward to partaking. The insurance part is going to change, and this is good news. The probationary period is changing, and this is also good news. The interesting news is with regard to the use of evaluations in determining teacher compensation. The evaluation process and outcomes are going to be the topic of a lot of scrutiny, and it should be so.
Thursday's last attended clinic was A Policy Primer: the Basics of School Board Policy, and this was a disappointment. I asked about the difference in meaning between "will" and "shall", and got nowhere.
I hope to write again soon on the keynote speakers and the Friday clinics.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Visualization

We've been doing quite a lot of visualization work lately (read: 3ds Max), which is good as a bill-paying enterprise. What strikes me as odd, however, is the fact that visualization as a skill is not very widespread. Orthogonal drawings are a kind of code, best interpreted by people in the know, but opaque to everyone else. So why not draw in a 3d world, or even 4d? After all, we interpret reality as a 4d world.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Pecha Kucha

We presented at the Downeast Pecha Kucha last night. The Stonington Opera House is straight out of Northern Exposure. I found it a very useful opportunity to figure out what my elevator pitch should be. 20 slides, 20 minutes per slide. One needs to stay focused, which is true 24/7