A Day at Dartmouth
Earlier this week, work sent me up to Dartmouth (in Hanover, NH); it was an interesting job, and I've never been there before, so it was interesting to see the place. It is a beautiful campus; it is an Ivy League university up in the middle of nowhere--it felt like the archetype of the college town.
It was doing one of those days doing the stuff I love to do--crawling around the innards and roofs of buildings, checking out the infrastructure that makes them work. It's neat to see old machines that still work pretty well--old pneumatic HVAC controls; however, the drawback is that fewer and fewer people are trained to maintain this machinery. It is part of the reason why battleships were retired from the Navy after they were reactivated in the 1980's: there were not many sailors trained to be WW II-era boiler technicians, and even fewer young sailors wanted to step into a career in the new, fast-paced field of 1940's ship propulsion technology.
The job itself was quite interesting--we were operating as sub-consultants to a firm that is developing an energy efficiency retrofit plan for the school's buildings. The Dartmouth administrators should be lauded for their strategy: the school is adding buildings to their campus, increasing the demand on their central plant boilers. Instead of simply building new boilers, they are putting some of that money into improving efficiency of existing buildings to control demand, and avoid the need for more capacity (as well as recouping the savings over time).
Here's one of the buildings--a 1960's building by the same architect who designed Lincoln Center and the UN Building.
Unfortunately, it was built with classic 1960's International style technology, in the era when heating oil was cheap. As an aside, I went to a conference on preserving the buildings from the second half of the 20th century, and some presenters commented, "Um, do we want to? Many of them leak, suck down energy, and are uncomfortable."
This building was no exception--lack of insulation, and the entire north wall is single glazed windows in metal frames--yeah, basically, it has a wall made of storm windows. And that's in a location with 7900 heating degree days (it's a metric of how bad the heating season is: if you don't intrinsically speak in HDD, the USA today definition is much more reasonable than the Wikipedia version); as a comparison point, Boston is 5600, Minneapolis is 8000, Orlando is 700).
It was a good day, and it felt like we're working towards Good Things.
3 Comments:
We could start by not calling it "International style." It's only "International" because it works well for Holland, northern Germany, and maybe San Francisco.
If you believe Wikipedia, "International Style" is named after an exhibition: The term had its origin from the name of a book by Henry-Russell Hitchcock and Philip Johnson written to record the International Exhibition of Modern Architecture held at the Museum of Modern Art in New York City in 1932 which identified, categorised and expanded upon characteristics common to Modernism across the world. Similar to the origin of the name Art Deco (1925 Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes).
That being said, it sounds like the name gained traction because it was used regardless of location: One of the strengths of the International Style was that the design solutions were indifferent to location, site, and climate. This was one of the reasons it was called 'international'; the style made no reference to local history or national vernacular. They were the same buildings around the world. (Later this was identified as one of the style's primary weaknesses.)
Incidentally, I've recounted one of the stories why this style gained such popularity for skyscrapers, etc., right? Apparently, it is often cheaper to use glass and steel curtain wall, rather than hanging stone and other "ornament" on buildings--therefore the owners were all in favor of that.
Yeah, it's called international because of the exhibition, but if you look at who participated in the eshibition, well, there was Gropius, from Germany, and De Stijl's proponents from Holland, and that's pretty much it.
Those days that was enough to count something as international (former foes in the Great War unite to solve housing crisis!)
And when I biked through Dutch suburbia, I saw plenty of Stijl homes all over, inhabited by wealthy and content people.
And nowhere else. Those were homes even Cabrini Green survivors would shun in America.
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