Category: Architecture and Interiors

This speaks my language.

Located in San Miguel Allende, Mexico, Casa Dom by @tmasm.arquitectos, blends design, architecture, and nature, with double-height windows framing the serene surroundings. Its loft-style layout fosters simplicity and tranquility, while a well-equipped kitchen and comfortable living spaces offer relaxation. Upstairs, a king bedroom with an attached bathroom awaits. Outside, enjoy a wood and charcoal grill, fire pit, and hammock under mesquite and cactus trees. Unwind in the outdoor soaking tub, surrounded by a Buddhist Stupa promoting peace. At night, transform the front windows into a cinematic space with remote-controlled blinds.

So many possibilities.

What would you do with it?

But I'd need a weekly cleaning crew.

Richad Foster, The Foster House, Wilton, Connecticut, 1967

(click to embiggen)

…but I certainly don't hate it. I mean if someone gifted us a house like this I certainly wouldn't refuse it!

Click to embiggen.

They started going up last year on a piece of property that has sat vacant for decades. I like them architecturally, even though they're horribly out of step with the rest of the area (mostly built-up during the 1940s and 50s).

When we moved back over here in April, it looked like they were about 95% finished, but in the intervening months they've just sat there, still enclosed in a construction fence and no further progress has been made on them.  Looks as if the developer ran out of money because there's now a for sale sign out front – not for the individual units, but for the entire property.

Back in 1983, the lot at the southeast corner of Wilmot Road and Grant Avenue in Tucson was vacant. I figured that sooner or later some developer would snatch it up and another apartment complex would soon appear.

Deep in what I call my "Mos Eisley" design phase, I decided to beat them to the punch and design a small complex myself. Hard to believe it now, but I actually used to do this for fun.

These (and several similar houses I designed around the same time) were designed for the desert; three foot thick concrete walls, high ceilings and small windows to keep the heat out. Maybe overkill then, but with global warming rapidly turning our planet into an air fryer, who's to say this won't be the norm in 100 years?

Looking at these plans now, I realize that these units are not handicap accessible and also have to ask, why a shared laundry? My only answer could be, "It was 1983. There was no Americans With Disabilities Act; and no one was putting individual washers and dryers in rental units!" (At least not in Tucson.)

…it reminds me very much of a very expansive house I designed when I was in high school. It had wrap-around glass walls and on the interior the various rooms were individual boxes that were normally open to the surrounding spaces but could easily be closed for privacy. I don't have the plans any longer; they were one of many casualties of moves over the years, but I do remember the layout, including a circular elevator and staircase that led up from the underground garage. All very 70s sci-fi.

"Les Choux de Créteil" a Paris housing project designed by Gérard Grandval and built between 1969 and 1974.

…but it would be a nice place to get away to on the weekends!

…we could do a whole lot worse.

I love the ultra modern of today's architecture, but there's also a special place in my heart for deco and deco-adjacent work from the 30s.

[source]

But fabulous for a weekend getaway. Or even just a back yard hideout.

From Vintage Everyday:

An alternative mode of high rise living, these futuristic homes were dreamed up by the Swiss architect and artist Guy Dessauges in the mid-1960s. The eccentric creator was obsessed with the idea of designing completely cylindrical buildings, inspired by the semi-circular forms of ancient cave dwellings and Roman vaulting.

He was also focusing on a new use of materials, structural and social connectivity of the new modes of design. He had just produced a new system of construction, which is made of polyester, laminated textile of glass and polyurethane foam. It was not needed to invent a new hardware or software for this type of construction, they were already there and he just improved a new type of living.

Dessauges spent most of the sixties compiling drawings and scale models of structures such as this—a playful, prefabricated "tube housing tower." Sadly, none of these imaginings ever came to life, and by the end of the decade financial necessity forced Dessauges to turn his attention to more practical endeavors.

To be filed under: I Could Live There

A little small for two grown-ass men with two dogs, but we could make it work. We've lived in smaller!

…but for a desert house, I like it.

…I could live there.

I could live there.

(It is one of the nicer ones I've seen. Probably helps that it's not just a glorified trailer.)

A little small for more than one person, but it could still work…

This actually reminds me a lot of the first project I worked on when I moved to Tucson in 1980. It was a long, narrow lot that was zoned multi-family, and the architect I worked for had designed three separate townhouses for the property.

I always liked the layout of the units. Sadly I don't have the original plans any more, but once upon a time I did a "beach house" design based off the original layout, and surprisingly I do still have that:

For all the years I was in the architectural profession, I had never heard of this man.

From SickoRicko:

Paul Revere Williams was born in Los Angeles on February 18, 1894 to Lila Wright Williams and Chester Stanley Williams who had recently moved from Mem­phis with their young son, Chester, Jr. When Paul was two years old his father died, and two years later his mother died. The children were placed in sepa­rate foster homes. Paul was fortunate to grow up in the home of a foster mother who devoted herself to his edu­ca­tion and to the devel­opment of his artistic talent.

At the turn of the 20th century, Los Angeles was a vibrant multi-ethnic envi­ron­ment with a popu­la­tion of only 102,000 of which 3,100 were African American (U.S. Cen­sus 1900). During Williams' youth the California dream attracted people from across the United States, and they mixed together with little prejudice. Williams later reported that he was the only African American child in his elementary school, and at Polytechnic High School he was part of an ethnic mélange. However, in high school he experienced the first hint of adversity when a teacher advised him against pursuing a career in archi­tecture, because he would have difficulty attracting clients from the majority white community and the smaller black community could not provide enough work.

Click here to read more. Click here to see an extensive gallery of his work.