After watching Tom Dyckhoff's
'The Secret Life of Buildings' on Channel Four last week (which is on again tonight at 8pm), it got me thinking about our interior spaces at home. In comparison to previous centuries, our homes are now lighter than ever; glass is more sought after and readily available, and large expanse's of glass facades have become the modern ideal. However, despite this, windows in modern homes still often fail to reach standards that correlate with our wellbeing and health. Developers are creating generic houses with prison-like windows to lower costs, and architects are designing buildings for art's sake; to look beautiful and photograph well. Does this mean we are failing to design the building around the occupant? Has architecture ever put the occupant's needs first?
If we go back to previous centuries we can see that the architecture of the home was once dark and small, mainly to stop heat escaping and to keep the warmth in. Dark furnishings were used to conceal stains from soot and gas lighting, and to show off a family's wealth through rich velvets and tapestries. The French invented Plate
glass in 1688 but it wasn't until 1838, that sheet glass was introduced; a cheaper alternative that cooled faster than it's predecessor and could be produced economically in much larger sheets.
The
window tax, imposed from 1696 in England, caused owners to brick up their open windows, coining the term 'daylight robbery'. The taxman was literally stealing light, which some would say are essential elements to even the most basic of homes. "The tax was sorely resented as 'a tax on air and light', and meant that many servants and others of constrained means were condemned to live in airless rooms" (Taken from Bill Bryson's At Home, A Short History of Private Life") Properties were taxed 2 shillings per house, with properties with between ten and twenty windows taxed 4 shillings. This changed to seven in 1766 and eight in 1825, before being abolished in 1851. In addition there was a tax on the weight of glass from 1746, resulting in thin, leaky windows and heavy frames. You can still see various period houses today in London with concealed square holes.
Windows became status symbols for the rich aristocrats; such as Bess of Hardwick who showed off her wealth and successful marriages through the grand facade of Hardwick Hall in Derbyshire. Having so much glass on display was extremely extravagent for the time, panes were often small and held together with a lead lattice. It even resulted in the popular epigram; 'Hardwick Hall, more glass than wall'. The problem though was that the Architect (thought to have been Robert Smythson) designed the facade purely from an aesthetic point of view, to demonstrate symmetry and grandeur from the approach. This meant that there was a disparity between the interior rooms and the windows; some of the larger rooms don't have enough windows, where as some of the smaller rooms have more than needed.
A modern example of interior architecture for art's sake is David Adjaye's Lost House, an apartment in King's Cross, with three interior glass courtyards and void of any exterior windows. The result is more like a dark bunker than a home; from 'The Secret Life of Building's' footage, it looked like a harsh, un-homely environment with heavy materials such as black polished concrete and black wooden joinery.
Tom Dyckhoff did an interesting study in his own home, where the windows were partially covered up for a week. At the end of the seven day period, his mood levels were seriously reduced and his glucose levels were dangerously close to a Diabetic's. Architecture should be designed around the human's needs, to serve the occupier in it's function. One can only know how an interior space effects our wellbeing once we have inhabited a space, but surely we must have learnt by now that light is not only essential for our health but for our happiness as well.
Labels: Architecture, History, Light, Psychology, The Secret Life of Buildings
Writing Madness on BBC Radio Four.
