R E S O L U T I O N . 2 0 1 1

While walking around the city during the dreary days of winter I often don’t notice much around me as I usually have my gaze fixed on the sidewalk and my sights set on getting indoors as quickly as possible. Fortunately for me, I live in Shanghai; a place where I am constantly surprised by catching a glimpse of something cool and unexpected. This happened to me the other day as I was wandering near Taikang Lu with my son, Otto. We turned a corner and joy filled my heart as I spied this building that was wrapped in the most amazing flower petals. It is the LiuLi China Museum, a structure that houses ancient and contemporary Chinese glass works, but more importantly, it is a structure that fills passer-bys with delight.

There are many things I love about this building – first of all, its whimsy is a refreshing respite from the seriousness of the surrounding architecture. Secondly, the organic grace of the overlapping petal pattern is a most beautiful contrast to the modernist geometry of the building’s skeleton – neither would be as wonderful standing on their own. Lastly, the shifting layers of transparency and varied levels of light as the petals envelop the building and leap up toward the sky make it appear to dance.

Walking by this building reminded me that our built environment truly affects how we feel. It seems that we, as a society, are at a point where the numerous stresses of living through a recession have brought everyone’s spirits to an all time low - we all need to lighten up a bit, especially me! I have taken this as a calling for a brighter, lively and less precious approach to design in this new year – so, next time you hear me whine about a corner not aligning with an opening not aligning with a soffit – please tell me to shut up and remind me of this building, and the importance of my new years resolution to create spaces that enliven people’s everyday moments.

R O O F . T I L E . R E-U S E

I have always been intrigued by things made of re-used and re-purposed materials. The allure is not merely that “re-use” is “green” – but that building something out of a material meant for a different use often leads to unexpected and inspiring results – something that has never really been seen, yet is vaguely familiar.

In the old canal town of Zhujiajiao, located on the outskirts of Shanghai, my design sense and love of architecture was aroused when I came upon this outdoor courtyard. The floor was constructed of re-purposed roof tiles, the kind that grace many of the ancient tiled roofs throughout China. These tiles were installed on their side and buried to create a smooth, durable walking surface with a pattern so familiar and intricate, yet delightfully unexpected, that my heart skipped a beat.

As I continued to stroll the crumbling sidewalks of this town, I could not stop thinking about how else, and where else, one could re-purpose this type of roof tile. A material such as this - whether recycled or purchased new - is inexpensive, widely available, and offers a warm color and natural texture that would be a welcome sight in many houses or gardens. An accent wall or free-standing partition in a Northern California home, constructed of battered, burnt-orange terra cotta tiles, could be the perfect modern accoutrement for the traditional Spanish architecture that is so prevalent in this area. An age-old material with a new use, separating and creating space with and intricate pattern that offers tiny glimpses into the spaces beyond.

L A N E . H O U S E

I love this lane house off of Taixing Road in the Jingan district of Shanghai.  After days of looking at slick high-rise apartments as potential living spaces, we finally stumbled upon this newly renovated jewel.  Lane houses are completely vertical - this one is linked by an original dark wood stair that winds its way between 8 half levels.  We wondered, if living on this many levels, our family of three would be disconnected from each other.  Deep down, I was thrilled at the promise of endless trips up and down these stairs - sliding my hands along the smooth railing, feeling with my feet the worn noses of the treads which, after years of use, had all transformed into gentle curves.  As a new transplant to a part of the world that I had no history with, I thought that maybe engaging this old stair, living my life on the many different levels that it leads to, would ground me in my new home.

The other details of the house are beautiful too.  The leaded glass in the doors that lead to the private courtyard are reminiscent of the stair railing accents.  The rough tiled walls against the smooth white plaster weave together the textures of old and new.  The insertion of glass block and glass ceilings reflect natural light on the dark wood floors.  The slatted wood sliding doors of the master bedroom hide storage space and create a semi-transparent entry to the tucked away master bath.   

Alas, this is not the house in which we chose to live the next two yeas of our lives.  A different lane house in the quiet, construction free, tree lined streets of the former French Concession area - dotted with amazing boutiques, bars and restaurants - had a stronger calling.  But I think about this house often as it was the first place in Shanghai where I could picture our life clearly. We are so strongly connected to the places that we live and somehow, even though I am usually drawn to modern design, I love the history and architecture of old houses.