Since brevity is the soul of wit, I won’t bother trying to be witty!

We recently had a contractor in our office on a marketing mission. You know, trying to sell himself so that we will refer work to him. In the midst of the conversation, I asked him what he thought of my partner’s house. He got a friendly grin and thoroughly disguised his real opinion with some innocuous comment about how it doesn’t matter what he thinks as long Paul and his wife were happy. He continued to say that whenever another client of his sees a house of a different client and feels inclined to comment negatively, he feels compelled to remind them, that they don’t have to live there. Furthermore, in his opinion, Architect’s are generally too critical and not complimentary.

This conversation got me to thinking about my house, my partner’s house and the value of our opinions.

I live in a builder’s (not so) special. You know, one of those “nice” neighborhoods built by a mass housing developer trying to hit that wanna-be upper middle class market. And, of course, my partner lives in a house he designed and contracted. (You can follow the process at the link in his last post).

The contrast between these two houses illustrates one of the most important issues in the argument for hiring a good architect to design your house. In one, the residents conform their life patterns to accommodate the house, and in the other the house pattern conforms to the residents. This is the epitome of “my house,” and regardless of any one’s opinion, Paul’s house is most definitely his house.

Here’s one of many examples. Our house has one family gathering space. That room happens to be part of the “great room” sharing space with the kitchen and eating area. In general, we like this layout. It’s good for company and entertaining and so forth. But come about 5:00 when me and my 5 kids are all crossing paths, and my wife is making dinner, this becomes an unbearably loud and crazy place. Of course, everyone wants to talk about their day, and a disagreement over something inevitably breaks out and the kid’s favorite TV show has to get turned up so that they can hear over all the commotion. This chaos has become a pattern of our life. Not because we chose it, but because our pre-existing life patterns, shaped by our previous house, of being able to separate some of the commotion by having the TV in another “family” room, and having a more isolated kitchen, just doesn’t work in the new place.

On the other hand, Paul and his family thought very carefully, not of what their life patterns were, but what they WANTED them to be, and created the environment capable of maintaining these patterns. As a result, they created a true refuge for their family where everything is consciously designed to alleviate the tensions of a forced life pattern.

Unfortunately, I think that letting our environment define our patterns of living is the rule, not the exception. And even more discouraging, I’ll wager that most of us are only subconsciously aware of it and the stress that it creates in our homes.

But what does this have to do with our contractor’s opinion? Wasn’t he correct to say that if it works for Paul, than his opinion doesn’t matter? Well, yes and no. Yes, to Paul, his opinion doesn’t matter. I know Paul well enough to believe, that a critical opinion of his house really doesn’t matter at all to him. But no, it is not okay to dismiss anything or any opinion by shoeing it aside with the phrase, “well, if it works for them.”

After our contractor friend suggested that architects are overly critical, I couldn’t help but reply that the reason for that is because there is so much out there that deserves criticism. Whether or not Paul’s house would fit my family’s life patterns or any one else’s (which it wouldn’t) by the very nature of taking the care required to make it fit his, he created something that has discernable value to everyone who sees it. It is the product of a thoughtfully prepared plan in response to analysis and research with a backdrop of a critical mind, careful to avoid the pitfalls all around, that made Paul’s house a good house.

It is an architect’s ability to synthesize and discern the needs of his clients along with that critical eye that results in a house that works so well for you that you won’t care about anyone’s opinion even though they will almost always admit, it is a “good” house.