Thank you to Mithun for cosponsoring ARCADE's website and e-newsletter.
by BetterBricks, University of Oregon Energy Studies in Buildings Lab
5:30 – 7:30pm
at AIA Portland
Presentation of the 2030 Challenge highlighting 2017 national results and Portland Architecture Awards submittals.
Saturday 25 Nov
by JOIN Shop
11am – 6pm
at JOIN shop
Support small business Saturday with Joe and Sallyann.
Tuesday 28 Nov
by Giving Tuesday
Please support ARCADE on #GivingTuesday!
Wednesday 29 Nov
by GRAY Magazine
7 – 11pm
GRAY's awards event brings the entire Pacific Northwest design community together to celebrate award-winning design—and to party!
Thursday 30 Nov –
Saturday 13 Jan
by Center on Contemporary Art (CoCA)
ThFSa, 11am – 6pm
CoCA is excited to present Cathy McClure, multi-media artist with a background in metal design.
Thursday 30 Nov
by 501 Commons
9am – 5pm
Four-months planning program for arts and cultural organizations, designed to help them identify capacity strengths and challenges.
Thursday 30 Nov
by AIGA Seattle
6 – 8pm
Public event to make new connections and learn more about AIGA Seattle.
Friday 1 Dec
by Scarlet Ibis Gallery, Visual AIDS
5 – 10pm
A day in which thousands of arts institutions and organizations unify to demonstrate the power of art to raise awareness of the ongoing AIDS pandemic.
Saturday 2 Dec
by Mighty Tieton
10am – 5pm
Unique handmade and vintage items plus local food and live music
Monday 4 Dec
by Town Hall Seattle
7:30 – 9pm
Jaron Lanier speaks at Town Hall about virtual reality technology and what it means to be human.
Wednesday 6 Dec
by AIA Seattle, SMPS Seattle
4 – 6pm
Panel lecture on the impacts of Seattle's current boom on your firm’s marketing and business development.
Friday 8 Dec
by The Architect's Newspaper
7:30am – 12:15pm
Lecture covering issues unique to the region, including innovative building skins, high performance facades, and the future face of Seattle.
Monday 11 Dec
by AIA Seattle
8am – 5pm
All-day workshop on how we plan, design, build with resilience in mind.
Tuesday 12 Dec
6:30 – 8 pm
Chris Reed, Founding Director of Stoss Landscape Urbanism, presents new work and research.
Through Saturday 14 Apr
by AIA Seattle
All seminars are 9 – 11am
January 13, 2018
Information-packed overview of the design and construction process including budget, schedule & hiring
Through Friday 8 Dec
by UW Dept. of Landscape Architecture
MTWF, 12 – 5pm
Th 12 – 7pm
Closed November 10, 23, 24
Exhibit honoring the life and career of landscape architect Kenichi Nakano.
Mapping the Policy Landscape: Visualizing Nutrition Regulations in Early Childhood Care and Education
By Jennifer J. Otten and Tad Hirsch
Information graphic by Chad P. Hall, Tad Hirsch, and Jennifer J. Otten
In recent years US federal, state, and local governments have been increasing focus on developing and refining policies to improve the nutritional health of young children enrolled in child care. Yet little attention has been devoted to understanding the complex ways in which regulatory structures already affect child care food practices. In Washington State policy makers, public health agencies, child care professionals, and other stakeholders are driving discussions about how early childhood care and education (ECE) providers are experiencing and implementing a complicated array of nutritional policies. With Chad P. Hall, we designed the information graphic above to map the layers of federal, state, and local nutrition-related policies that Washington State child care providers must navigate.
Understanding the Problem
Young children establish many dietary behaviors before they reach kindergarten, with taste preferences largely formed by age five. In a report titled Who’s Minding the Kids? Child Care Arrangements, the Census Bureau states that over the past 30 years, early childhood care and education settings have become major, if not primary, learning and eating environments for an estimated 11 million children under age five in the US. A 2011 American Dietetic Association position paper Benchmarks for Nutrition in Child Care estimates that young children enrolled in ECE receive up to two-thirds of their daily nutrition in these environments.
States vary markedly in the ways they regulate nutrition in licensed child care settings. Due to overlapping policy programs, they may inadvertently establish regulations that contradict each other. For example, the federal Child and Adult Care Food Program (CACFP) regulates and reimburses for food served in ECE settings. It is an important policy lever for improving the nutritional quality of food in child care environments, and states often apply enhanced (CACFP) standards or offer incentives for participation in the program. In addition, recently the federal government has also provided states with new Child Care and Development Block Grants, which fund child care subsidies for low-income working families. When states use these block grants, they may require child care providers that receive these funds to adhere to additional nutritional criteria or policies. Often the nutrition standards established through the block grants are inconsistent with CACFP’s. Providers are tasked with sorting through and managing these policies, regulations, and programs.
Those trying to improve ECE nutrition often do not realize how complicated the regulations currently are, how policies overlap, or how the improvement of one policy or standard might affect another. Policy visualizations are needed to illustrate the system’s complexity and enable strategic decision making.
Mapping Policies to Visualize Solutions
A wide array of people and groups have interest in or are affected by ECE nutritional regulations, including public agencies, advocacy groups, professional organizations, parents and families, service providers and educators, healthcare practitioners, and more. The following visualization helps these stakeholders understand and communicate how regulatory complexity affects ECE nutrition. Policy visualizations such as this can serve as centerpieces for discussions among these stakeholders and starting points for considering the system as a whole.
To create this information graphic, we conducted participatory design sessions with child care providers, representatives of local and state public health agencies, and state early learning agencies. In early sessions, participants drew diagrams that illustrated their understanding of the regulatory policies that influence nutrition at ECE centers. These diagrams—which varied widely—were compared with our own research about ECE policies (i.e., the policies themselves; peer-reviewed manuscripts; online federal, state, or local materials; and documents such as white papers or technical reports). We then created several “policy maps” that depicted relationships between agencies, policies, funding, and child care centers and held focus groups where we presented initial drafts to stakeholders. Participants were asked which maps made the most sense, to identify what was wrong or missing in the maps, and to describe with whom or in what ways they might use them. Based on their feedback, we created a refined information graphic, which was then circulated via email back to the stakeholder group for additional comments or edits.
While no doubt incomplete, the visualization that emerged seems to offer the best available picture of the institutions, policies, and resources that influence child care food service. Through our work, it has become clear that no individual or group seems to have a full grasp of all the relevant policies, and that even among experts there is not a single shared understanding. Our hope is that visualizations like this can facilitate dialogue among stakeholders and build capacity for change.
“There is a moment which follows pride in the boundless extension of the territories we have conquered, and the melancholy and relief of knowing we shall soon give up any thoughts of knowing and understanding them … It is the desperate moment when we discover that this empire, which had seemed to us the sum of all wonders, is an endless, formless ruin.” — Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities
Thank you to PAE Engineers for cosponsoring ARCADE's website and e-newsletter.
Rarely has wood been put to more artful use than in the midcentury architecture of Paul Hayden Kirk. His designs of the ’50s and ’60s featured rambling floor plans, sweeping roofs, and exposed wooden structure, typically stained to reveal the natural grain of old-growth beams. As a sole practitioner and later in partnership with Donald Wallace and David McKinley, Kirk established a respected career designing medical clinics, churches, and residences all proudly displaying the latest in design using the oldest of materials.
These buildings are still admired for their exposed structure, human scale, and abundant glass. After 60 years, however, they also show the effects of climate and gravity on designs built in an era of less-stringent building codes.
“Kirk was very efficient with his use of wood, and there is an economy of structure in his work,” said architect Helen Hald, who has not only restored Kirk homes but owns one herself. “But codes have changed since then.”
Among the changes are different ways floors, walls, and roofs are built. A typical floor today would place joists at 16-inch intervals topped with a layer of plywood. Kirk’s homes of the 1950s often used heavier four-by-six-inch joists at four-foot intervals, topped with a more robust deck of tongue-and-groove two-by-six-inch boards. Today’s codes also require thicker walls for increased insulation and roofs that will carry a snow load of 25 pounds per square foot.
Architect Tom Kundig, who restored Kirk’s Dowell Residence near Seattle’s Seward Park, noted that architects of Kirk’s generation “were exploring lighter and thinner building elements as a reaction to the somewhat heavier architecture that preceded the modern movement. There are certainly challenges working with architecture coming out of the midcentury era.”
Challenge #1: Exposed Structure
“It can be difficult when the structure goes from inside to outside,” said Hald, “because if the wood isn’t protected and sealed and resealed over time—which a lot of people don’t do—it’s going to rot.”
This is the exact situation facing Blake Williams, whose family co-owns a Kirk A-frame cabin on the Olympic Peninsula. One set of roof beams extends beyond the other, with both connected to floor joists outside the building and exposed to the elements. “This was a terrible idea,” said Williams, who is also an architect. “Sixty years later, water has crept in where steel bolts connect the rafter beams to the horizontal beams, and the wood is rotting.”
The solution was to transfer the weight of the roof away from the exterior joints. “We changed the path to the vertical posts by adding some steel structure under the whole cabin,” explained Williams. “In effect we changed the way the structure carried the load.”
A similar problem arose with the University Unitarian Church, one of Kirk’s most famous designs. To strengthen the structure after the 2001 Nisqually earthquake, each joint was reinforced with metal brackets, and exposed beams were capped with metal flashing. Tom Kundig utilized similar techniques for the Dowell Residence. “Some of the historical references we used from Japanese architecture dealt with exposed beams by either using paint to seal the beam ends or a steel plate. We certainly added that to deal with wood rot issues that were beginning to develop.”
Challenge #2: Flat Roofs
Managing water is even more challenging when dealing with the flat roofs Kirk often designed in the 1950s.
“There is nothing wrong with a flat roof,” noted Hald, “but you need a little positive drainage. Over time they can pond, and that adds weight and the structure sags. Then you have a permanent pond. If you have a heavy snow year, that can also cause some settlement.”
New roofing systems can provide insulation and positive drainage while still maintaining a narrow profile. “Kirk wanted a thin profile on the roof edge,” said Hald. “So one thing we use today is tapered rigid insulation so you still have the thin [fascia] line, and then as you move back, you start the taper so you don’t see the thickness.”
Challenge #3: All That Glass
Kirk designed entire walls of glass to take advantage of the region’s hills and views. Every square foot is a testimony to the indoor/outdoor aesthetic … and the low cost of heating oil in the 1950s.
According to Tom Kundig, “The technology of that time was single-pane plate glass. Of course, today we have energy related concerns, so we need to work with double-pane glass at a minimum. This means [replacement] glass is very heavy and cumbersome.
“On the Dowell Residence, we faced challenges addressing the frames of windows, details around the windows and roof, detailing around roof fascias, and roof corner details.”
Challenge #4: Respect the Design
With Kirk designs, structure and aesthetics are one and the same. A thicker roofline or window frame can throw the entire composition out of balance. Repairs and upgrades are therefore complicated by the desire to maintain the original proportions. The added effort, however, is worth it.
“People are drawn to these buildings whether they realize it or not,” said Hald. “Kirk was a structure-is-primary kind of guy, so his houses have a structural order to them, which is the beauty and grace of the building. A layperson may not understand that, but there is an emotional response when people see the scale, the proportion, and the connection to the outdoors.”
“It is a pleasure and an honor to work on historic projects like the Dowell Residence, which, in my opinion, is one of Paul Hayden Kirk’s masterworks,” added Kundig. “We were humbled by the thoughtfulness that Kirk put into it on many levels, including form, his conceptual thinking, and proportions in particular.”
One Saturday morning in January, I sat at a worktable surrounded by piles of tiny wood pieces and paper cups half-filled with glue. I’d been given a simple set of instructions to arrange and adhere certain groupings of wood into ring-shaped structures, but otherwise, I was left to my own devices. This made me nervous. I’m not a designer, an artist, or a fabricator. And yet, I was in the studio of the internationally exhibited artist John Grade, putting together parts of a tree sculpture that would be shown at the Seattle Art Museum a few months later.
I was one of hundreds of volunteers Grade enlisted to assemble Middle Fork, the massive installation that stretches across the museum’s lobby. The blocks of salvaged old-growth cedar I glued in the artist’s studio were only small handfuls of the nearly one million pieces that comprise the tree-shaped shell suspended within the cavernous space at SAM. Beginning in 2014 as a 40-foot piece at the MadArt Studio in South Lake Union, Middle Fork has since traveled to the Renwick Gallery of the Smithsonian American Art Museum and the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland. The sculpture has grown to fill its space within each exhibition. The 105-foot version at SAM is the largest yet, though the artist hopes it will eventually reach 140 feet, the height of its model: a 140-year-old western hemlock he found near the middle fork of Washington’s Snoqualmie River.
When discussing the genesis of his work in a video made by the University of Wyoming Art Museum, Grade points to his impetus to understand the world kinesthetically. The inspiration to create Middle Fork came during a walk through the forest, when he encountered a large nurse log and envisioned his body moving through its interior. His desire to explore a physical experience of closeness comes up again in SAM’s video about the work, as the artist describes the way he and several arborists covered the original hemlock in foil and then cast it in plaster to create the mold for Middle Fork’s final wood form. After spending nearly two weeks working, often physically suspended between the evergreen’s branches, Grade talks about experiencing a sense of “intimacy” with the tree. The language he uses to describe the distinctive features he encountered—“limbs” that turn towards the sunlight and “wounds” in the bark’s surface—makes it sound like he spent those weeks trying to better understand another human rather than a conifer.
Meanwhile, my own humanness marked my experience working on Middle Fork. As I assembled my pieces with several other volunteers, I only realized the depths of my immersion in the tree-making process when I had to stop to check which wood wedges on the table were mine; this usually happened as I was on the brink of inadvertently stealing from someone else’s stack. Towards the end of my shift, I was horrified to find a cedar block from a group I’d set to dry had strayed from its section and become lost among dozens of others, buried beyond any hope of recognition and repair. I didn’t know yet that the artist and his studio would sand down the edges after the gluing was complete, creating a sheen of uniformity that would likely erase signs of human error.
When I later asked the artist about the importance of the volunteer contributions to his greater vision for the sculpture, he surprised me by saying he was eager to have volunteers even more involved in future projects, possibly even to the point that his name and theirs would be affiliated with the work in equal measure. Grade explained, “Even before I started bringing other people to help me with the work, I found that I was making things well but that an element of chance was missing. When you bring in other people, you really let go.”
When I experienced Middle Fork in SAM’s Brotman Forum a few months after, I noticed the less predictable elements embedded in the sculpture—the trunk’s rippling surface, the branches’ meandering structures. The familiar pieces came together to form an uncannily true-to-life tree form, sprawling and reaching wildly as if its centuries-old wood were still alive, stretching towards the sun. Any mistakes were imperceptible in the “skin” of the tree, as Grade has called it. Although I momentarily tried to find my misshapen branch, the distance between Middle Fork and its viewers in the lobby is vast—a strange realization for someone used to feeling a sense of closeness with art in museums. In this case, Middle Fork appeared much more stunning from afar but out of reach, as if it were a person I’d once known and was now seeing in a movie. It will eventually return to ground level, not in the museum but back in the Cascades at the foot of the original tree. Grade plans to bring the sculpture there to decompose—the ultimate exercise in allowing nature to reclaim its offspring.
Thank you to Mithun for cosponsoring ARCADE's website and e-newsletter.
Sallyann Corn and Joe Kent
The best design experiences exist when material, function, and quality overlap, and when designer, manufacturer, and merchant all believe deeply in the products they offer. The objects within this space are imbued with meaning, and understanding the narrative of an object’s creation helps give it context and make it yours. When we founded our design studio in 2008, these overlapping ideas weren’t yet a fully formed manifesto but values we used as anchors. Since then, the role of storytelling in the creation of objects with meaning is something we have been reminded of time and time again.
Making with Meaning
While on a business trip to San Francisco in 2015 we found ourselves questioning our chosen path; we were in the middle of a sourcing project nightmare and forced to ask ourselves hard questions about staying true to our self-imposed commitment to work exclusively with US manufacturers. Exhausted by the decisions we were facing, and sub-consciously searching for a sign to guide us, we took a break one afternoon and visited the Heath Ceramics tile factory. The factory guide was a third-generation Heath craftsperson, obviously passionate and proud about the products he helped produce. We heard story after story as we toured the factory, learning the names of the skilled makers and the tricks of their trade. Suddenly we were looking at so much more than tiles—we were seeing the intersections that come together to give “things” meaning. Hearing the pride in our guide’s voice, we were overcome with the feeling that this was the encouraging sign we didn't know we needed telling us to keep going.
That day, we were reminded that as humans, we want to surround ourselves with objects that become heirlooms for the next generation—objects with stories and meaning. And as makers, these are the objects we want to create.
From Makers to Merchants
The exchange that happens when an object is purchased provides an opportunity for the transmission of stories and the generation of meaning. Two of our favorite brick-and-mortar stores are perfect examples of this philosophy—one a record shop and the other a bookstore. Both were founded in the 1970s, prior to online purchasing and digitized media, and both remain incredibly valuable to their local communities. Hot Poop, located in Walla Walla, Washington, was founded by Jim McGuinn, and Peter Miller Books, located in Seattle, was founded by Peter Miller. Record shops and bookstores have seen huge declines in both small and large retail capacities over the last few decades due to the increasing competition from both digital devices and online sales outlets. But these two stores create an experience where a purchase is almost always partnered with a story. It might be an observation or anecdote related to the content of the purchase or a tangential story—a suggestion for a similar record or book or simply a recommendation for a local restaurant that must be visited. In addition, both Jim and Peter give back tenfold to their local communities and are so obviously passionate about what they sell that the energy is contagious. How have these two businesses managed to not only survive but thrive in an ever-changing retail landscape? Because a simple anecdote gives an object meaning.
Our design studio is dedicated to our community of makers and strives to create collaborative opportunities for independent designers with like-minded values. In Seattle, we recently opened a brick-and-mortar store, JOIN Shop, to showcase wares created by our maker community. Our objective is to create an atmosphere similar to a farmers market where patrons talk with vendors, choose their products with purpose, and make connections that go beyond consumption. We passionately believe that the stories behind the objects we sell are as beautiful as the objects themselves, and we want to share them with others.
Meaning is the reason we travel, read, buy souvenirs, hold on to heirlooms, treasure gifts, and go to farmers markets seeking farm-to-table experiences. We’re creating and collecting our own anecdotes. We are gathering not simply objects but physical manifestations of our own unique stories.
In September, ARCADE celebrated the launch of issue 35.2, A City to Love: Auckland's Visions of a Public Realm at Old Stove Brewing Co., at the new Pike Place MarketFront. Thank you to everyone who came out to celebrate with us, to our event sponsors, our volunteers, and to all who contributed to this issue.
Thank you to Michael Stearns of Hybrid3 Design Studio for taking event photos!
Thank you to our event sponsors Arup, Berger Partnership, dark | light design, Miller Hull, and Sellen Construction and venue host Old Stove Brewing Co! Thanks also to Honest Biscuits for the tasty snacks. And thank you to grantmakers 4Culture and Seattle Office of Arts & Culture for supporting ARCADE.
Here are a few shots from the launch party. Visit our Facebook page to see more photos. Share, tag and enjoy!
The city of Auckland, New Zealand, will be on display at the ARCADE Fall Salon on October 26, 2017 (tickets available now).
The 2015–2016 Runstad Affiliate Fellows will expand on their fall ARCADE feature "A City to Love: Auckland's Visions of a Public Realm" as they share findings from their time studying the New Zealand "super city."
According to the Fellows, who spent a year investigating Auckland as a case study for place and design-led city building, Auckland and Seattle have much in common. Both cities share similarities in climate, age, size, urban form, and relationship to adjacent communities. In terms of transportation, "Auckland’s diversity of transit modes—train, light rail, bus, and ferry—is also similar, and it too is car centric and striving to wean itself off auto dependency." The political climates in Auckland and Seattle are comparable and, like we are, "Auckland is experiencing rapid growth, creating pressures on transportation systems, housing supply, public amenities, and livability."
The Fellows found that Auckland has embraced a visionary approach to city building and resiliency. And what is clear is that the story the Fellows have to share from Auckland is about love; it's about "a city and region remaking itself with the goal of being a place that its citizens will love, a story about a dialog between a city and the people who live there."
It's a story worth hearing as Seattle faces its own struggles. What parallel lessons are there for Seattle from 7,000 miles away?
Join us on October 26, 2017 from 6:30–8pm at The Cloud Room to hear from the 2015-2016 Runstad Affiliate Fellows. Get your tickets here (limited space available).
Speakers: The University of Washington Runstad Center Affiliate Fellows Program "gathers thought leaders from industry, faculty from the College of Built Environment, and top students pursuing a Master of Science in Real Estate for an 18-month program to examine real estate issues in the built environment." The 2015–2016 Runstad Affiliate Fellows are Ben Broesamle, Joe David, Genevieve Hale-Case, Amy Hartman, Giovanni Migliaccio, Rick Mohler, and Barbara Swift.
Venue: The Cloud Room, located in the heart of Capitol Hill in Chophouse Row, "provides a shared working environment that’s enriched by the people who occupy it."