During these difficult times, we can take the time to heal, to grow, to
give, to connect with others, to resolve the past, improve ourselves and
to think about all that we are grateful for. A big thank you for health
care workers all over the world. Most importantly, let's try to get
along.
If someone asked me in 2013 whether or not I
thought the open floor plan would still be popular, I would have said
no. Domestic architecture seemed to be taking a turn toward the rustic.
In 2018, “Farmhouse” and “Craftsman” modern designs, harkening back to
the American vernacular tradition (complete with shiplap walls), are a
tour-de-force.
But
I would have been wrong. Although these houses bring all the exterior
trappings of beloved vernacular houses of the past, they do not extend
that to the interior plans. In fact, the open concepts from the
oversized houses of the pre-recession era have only gotten
more open.
Much has been written about the open floor plan: how it came to be, why
it is bad (or good), whether it should or shouldn’t be applied to
existing housing. The open floor plan as we currently understand it—an
entry-kitchen-dining-living combination that avoids any kind of
structural separation between uses—is only a few decades old. Prior to
the last 25 years, an “open floor plan” meant a living configuration
without
doors; now the term has come to mean a living configuration without
walls. I will refer to the latter from now on as an “open concept,” in order to differentiate it from a traditional open floor plan.
An open-concept house in Massachusetts in 2005. Photo by Michael Dwyer/AP.
The interior-wall-free open concept became popular
starting in the 1970s, evolving from the cedar contemporary homes known
for their tall ceilings and windows, and from
styled ranches
whose steeper rooflines allowed for newly in-vogue cathedral ceilings.
Overall, the open concept was a reaction against years of small,
low-ceilinged living, which felt restricting and stuffy to a new
generation of homebuyers.
In an
essay in
The Atlantic, Ian Bogost described a new luxury concept
called the “mess kitchen”—a second kitchen out of sight from the main
kitchen and the rest of the open plan. He cited it to demonstrate why
the open floor plan and its rhetoric around “entertaining” have reached
new levels of absurdity. However, to me, the mess kitchen offers hope
for a transitional period where open spaces may become closed again.
That this would start with the kitchen is not
surprising. Historically, the kitchen was the last room to be integrated
into the open concept. Living and dining rooms began to converge as
early as the beginning of the 1900s, when changes in architectural taste
and the development of mass-industrialized housing production favored a
more compact home design than the rambling, formal “hall-and-parlor”
layout of Victorian times.
The
conventional narrative is that, historically, houses had floor plans
that were closed, and then they began opening up. But it is important to
understand that this argument centers on the homes of the affluent
classes.
Wealthy families in the 18th and 19th
centuries had homes with several rooms for specific purposes, such as
parlors, libraries, drawing rooms, smoking rooms, and servants’
quarters. Then, new building materials and construction technologies led
to shifts in architectural taste that favored more continuous interior
spaces: First came the Arts & Crafts movement, then Modernism.
Social changes that arose with modern industrial capitalism, such as the
transition away from live-in servants to commuting wage-workers, also
reduced the number of rooms in upper-class houses. However,
in the homes of the working and lower-middle classes, these same
factors of social change and modernization created an opposite
progression. The story of common houses is a story of walls.
The number of rooms in working-class homes increased with the number of
products and amenities that became readily affordable through
industrialization, modernization, and mass production. The common house,
as well as working-class living environments such as dwelling houses
and tenements, only had one to three rooms: a kitchen space and a living
and/or sleeping space, which were multipurpose, used for working as
well as living.
Beginning in the 1860s, work increasingly took place outside of the
home, and the application of mass production to housing reduced building
costs. During this period, the average number of rooms increased, to
three to five: a kitchen, a living room, and one or two bedrooms. Common
vernacular examples of this period (1860-1900) include the
worker’s cottage,
the shotgun house, the
Temple-and-Wing house, and early examples of the four-box and
Foursquare.
In these early industrial-era homes, the threshold between
working-class and middle-class was determined by amenities like a dining
room or a front porch.
By the 1900s and 1910s, mass single-family housing shipped to the site
by rail and truck had come into its own. Now sizes and types of wood,
nails, and other construction materials had become widely standardized
across the building industry. During the second half of the 19th
century, a key development—
balloon framing—allowed
for more inexpensive construction, since the cheap materials (nails,
studs, and 2x4s) were readily available and did not required skilled
labor to assemble, unlike timber framing. Long, lightweight studs and
the clever, basket-like technique of assembly enabled taller and longer homes to be built by as few as two people and with relatively little waste.
Two of the most common and recognizable types of vernacular American
housing—the bungalow and the Foursquare—became massively popular during
this time. The average number of rooms per house increased once again.
Working-class homes now had three to five rooms; middle-class homes, six
to eight. Whether or not a home was determined to be working- or
middle-class depended on whether it had indoor plumbing (bathrooms!) or
electricity, both of which had become increasingly available.
Architectural historians place a great deal of emphasis on the
bungalow, often citing it as the beginning of the “open” floor plan,
since many bungalows omitted the closed wall between the living and
dining areas. However, these historians focus on high-style Arts &
Crafts bungalows, which featured more inventive architecture, and ignore
the fact that in working-and-middle class bungalows, the average number
of individual (closed) rooms increased as a whole.
Only in more elaborate middle-class bungalows is the wall between the
living and dining room separated by a partial wall or colonnade. This
feature was more expensive to construct, because it required structural
loads to be redistributed to other walls or fixtures. Structural reasons
in general were why, in common houses, open spaces would not become
more widespread until changes in construction made them more affordable.
Even as plans in elite houses continued to open up throughout the 1920s,
the common house retained its interior walls. Why? In many respects,
closed rooms existed to maintain a semblance of privacy. Homes were
smaller, but families were bigger than they are now: The average number
of people in an American household was five in 1880 and 4.3 in 1920;
today, it’s 2.5. The reason why the first door to be omitted was
frequently that between the living and dining rooms was because those
rooms were considered “public” spaces, a holdover from the
hall-and-parlor Victorian times.
Work areas, such as the kitchen, and private spaces, like bedrooms and
bathrooms, were always closed off to avoid guests seeing the mess of
meal-making or, heaven forbid, the “unmentionable room” (the bathroom).
By the end of the 1920s, the large, old-growth trees that produced the
long studs central to the technique of balloon framing became scarce,
leading to new techniques that could be completed with smaller spans of
wood. Today’s style of framing, platform framing, enabled more flexible
room shapes and sizes.
The small
minimal traditional houses
of the 1930s through early ‘50s employed this new framing technique on a
mass, federally-subsidized scale. These small homes relied on interior
walls to ensure spatial privacy (not to mention aural, olfactory, and
visual privacy) in cramped situations. The closed floor plan also
represented security, isolation, and control, concepts that were
important in a moment that emerged from the Depression and then World
War II, and deepened through a period of intense racial tension and Cold
War paranoia.
The ranch and the split-level, both of which originated in the
mid-1940s, drastically changed patterns of dwelling in the American
home. This is often cited as the spark that lit the fire of the open
concept. The reorientation of the ideal American home, from vertical, two-story Cape Cod to horizontal, one-story ranch, certainly did open up
floor plans. By this point, a continuous living and dining space was
commonplace.
However, one room remained stubbornly closed for at least another decade: the kitchen. Kitchens have been closed for most of the history of common housing.
In elite houses, kitchens were places of work, where servants were kept
out of sight of residents and guests, often relegated to the cellar or
guesthouse. This functional separation was continued in middle-class
houses, even as live-in servants became a feature of the past. Most
kitchens are placed in the rear of the house. Access to a rear kitchen
door allowed for faster disposal of waste and easy ventilation; also,
deliveries could be made directly to the kitchen to save labor.
Kitchens began to open up and become public spaces in the home because
of cultural shifts regarding consumption. Domestic theorist Christine
Frederick’s term “creative waste” sums up this new mentality: It was the
moral obligation of the 1920s housewife to buy and discard products,
one that elevated the concept of waste as being positive, indulgent, and
stimulating to the economy.
This attitude merged with new technological advances. When inventions
such as central air conditioning and improved fire suppression became
commonplace, the kitchen, no longer a place of shame and no longer
reliant upon the ventilation provided by the kitchen door, began to
shift to different parts of the home. The attached garage often replaced the backyard as the common point of entry into the kitchen.
Room layout, which more often than not had its roots in social and
practical constraints, became liberated due to these new cultures of
consumption and technologies of comfort. Without these developments, the
open concept would have never been possible in the first place.
If closed floor plans are considered such a nuisance these days, why
did they prevail for almost 100 years in single-family working- and
middle-class suburban housing? The answer: closed floor plans make a lot
of sense, from both an environmental and a living perspective.
We are going to need to consume a lot less energy if we want to stem
the tide of global climate change. The good news is, humans survived for
thousands of years without air conditioning and cars, and thus can
learn some lessons from the past. The closed floor plan, especially the
closed kitchen, can help save energy by the simple principle of not
heating and cooling rooms that are not currently in use, as well as by
isolating rooms we want to keep warm or cool.
As cultures of consumption change and people become more
environmentally conscious, homes must change to reflect this. Designing
homes around “entertaining” that happens only a handful of times a year
is a wasteful, yet still mindbogglingly popular practice. When people
come to visit, they are there to see you, not your open concept.
It may not be as glamorous, but the closed kitchen is actually more
efficient for cooking than the sprawling, open “chef’s kitchens” that
are so popular. It enables whoever does the cooking to take fewer steps
to perform tasks. The chef’s kitchen follows the wasteful logic of the
1920s: Instead of moving the sink closer to the stove, builders install a
pot filler or a second sink in a center island. Instead of closing in
the main kitchen to isolate the disorder of food preparation, developers
are building “mess kitchens” for this purpose.
The “labor-saving” elements of open floor plans are in some ways
labor-creating. A large, single, continuous space is harder to get and
keep clean. Messes and smells are no longer isolated, but can be easily
tracked throughout the entire first floor of a large home. Less house in
general means less house to clean.
Not separating cooking, living, and dining is also an acoustical
nightmare, especially in today’s style of interior design, which avoids
carpet, curtains, and other soft goods that absorb sound. This is
especially true of homes that do not have separate formal living and
dining spaces but one single continuous space. Nothing is more maddening
than trying to read or watch television in the tall-ceilinged living
room with someone banging pots and pans or using the food processor 10
feet away in the open kitchen.
The best thing about the closed floor plan? It offers what it has
always offered: aural, olfactory, and spatial privacy. Humans have
always needed the sense of comfort and refuge that defined rooms
provide. That may explain the rise of “man caves” and “
she sheds”—closed spaces that rebel against the open concept.
Instead of these—space-wasting, specialized rooms that are used
relatively sparingly—why not just build common rooms with walls and
doors? If you want to escape something unpleasant, you can do so without
feeling banished or isolating yourself from everyone else. Sometimes,
true freedom means putting up a few barriers.
Kate Wagner is an architecture and design critic based in Baltimore. She is the author of the architecture blog McMansion Hell.
Message from Dominic St-Pierre, Vice-President and General Manager, Royal LePage, Quebec At this critical stage
of containing the coronavirus, media and consumers are watching how
corporate Canada is responding. Royal LePage is proud of how quickly our
brokerages have stepped up to the challenge. The
market The real estate market
remains relatively active in a majority of regions. Although, we foresee
a reduced demand as some sellers may not wish to encourage visitors.
Many buyers who have sold their property now must find a home. Some
investors will then turn to real estate to off balance stock markets. We
will continue to monitor market activity over the coming days, weeks and
months. Of course, it is important that you continue to serve your
clients, while leading by the example by following best practices to
contribute to eradicating the spread. Sincerely, Dominic
St-Pierre
Vice President and General Manager, Quebec region
In this update, we felt
relevant to share some of the most recent measures put in place by the
federal and provincial governments for individuals and businesses to
offer financial relief in the context of COVID-19. We are also sharing
information about the measures taken so far by financial institutions to
remove the financial burden for their clients.
'Montreal is sexy' and its housing market is expected
to break records in 2020
Quebec as a whole is outperforming
the rest of Canada. Yet housing affordability has deteriorated and is now
approaching “critical levels,” an economist warns.
Get ready for another strong year in
Montreal real estate.
Residential property sales in the
greater Montreal area are set to climb six per cent this year to a record
54,600 units, according to a forecast released Thursday by the Quebec
Professional Association of Real Estate Brokers. The group, which represents
more than 12,700 brokers and agencies, is also forecasting six-per-cent
increases in condominium and single-family home prices for 2020.
“Montreal has entered a phase of
exuberance,” Charles Brant, the association’s head of market research, said
Thursday at a presentation attended by property brokers and reporters. “There is a clear lack of supply.”
A record 51,329 properties were sold
in greater Montreal last year, a 10-per-cent jump from 2018, the association
said, citing data from the Centris system. This marked the fifth consecutive
annual increase of more than five per cent. The transactions had a combined
value of $20.3 billion, 15 per cent more than in 2018.
Full employment, rising disposable
income, low interest rates, positive migratory flows and government incentives
for home ownership are all contributing to the expected growth in real-estate
demand. Still, an anticipated slowdown in economic growth — combined with
labour shortages — could negatively impact job creation and prevent Quebec’s
economy from reaching its full potential, the association said.
Activity last year was particularly sustained in some outlying
municipalities, as evidenced by increases of 21 per cent in
St-Jean-sur-Richelieu, 15 per cent on the South Shore and 14 per cent on the
North Shore. Sales in Laval jumped 13 per cent, outstripping the four-per-cent
gain posted by the island of Montreal.
All major property types recorded
price increases. Plexes, defined as properties of two to five dwellings, rose
seven per cent to a median price of $550,000. Single-family home prices
advanced six per cent, to $340,000, with condominium prices climbing five per
cent to $267,900.
Bidding wars are now an inescapable
reality, especially in the central neighbourhoods. Thirty-nine percent of
single-family homes sold in Rosemont last year elicited bidding wars, while the
proportion in Villeray was 36 per cent, Brant said, citing QPAREB data.
Non-residents now account for about
15 per cent of all residential transactions in the downtown core, Brant said.
The figure reflects Montreal’s newfound popularity among
foreign investors, according to Patrice Groleau, who owns the McGill
Immobilier and Engel & Volkers real-estate agencies.
“There’s never been this much money
in Montreal,” Groleau said at the event. “Montreal is sexy. People from all
over the world want to come and live here.”
Anecdotally, Groleau said one of his
brokers recently took on his first $1-million property mandate
in Hochelaga-Maisonneuve, which has traditionally been one of Montreal’s
poorest districts.
Quebec as a whole is outperforming
the rest of Canada. Residential property sales in the province rose 12 per cent
last year, with median prices for single-family homes climbing four per cent,
compared with increases of six per cent and 2.5 per cent respectively for all
of Canada.
More than 96,500 residential
properties changed hands in Quebec last year, a new record, and QPAREB predicts
the 2020 total will top the 100,000 mark for the first time as median prices
for single-family homes advance five per cent.
Active listings across the province
fell 12 per cent in 2019, settling at the lowest level since 2010. It took an
average of 97 days to sell a home in the province, the smallest figure since
2012. Montreal-area properties sold even faster, averaging 71 days on the
market, amid a 19-per-cent plunge in active listings.
Those numbers firmly put Montreal —
and all of Quebec — into “seller’s market”
territory. A region or area is deemed to be a seller’s market when fewer than
eight months are required to sell the housing inventory.
Saint-Lazare, Hudson, Rigaud, Vaudreuil, West Island,Montreal, Quebec, Canada
Diane Laflamme is a professional realtor who sells homes primaily but not exclusively in the towns of Hudson, Saint Lazare, Rigaud and Vaudreuil-Dorion just off the western tip of Montreal Island.
Her familiarity with the Montreal market and the above-mentioned communities serves her clients well. Whether working with buyers or sellers, she applies her expertise and market knowledge to satisfy their expectations and conclude the sale. She is a detail-oriented real estate agent who strives to please her clients.
Known for their honesty and integrity, Diane and her husband Paul are full-time realtors who are well known, not only for their work, but for their contributions as volunteers through the years. The Hudson Firemen's Auction, the Hudson Street Fair, Nova, the Hudson Garden Club, the Hudson Yacht Club are only a few of the organizations to benefit from their time and help.
Repeat business from satisfied customers is the cornerstone of their commitment to be the best that they can be. Their aim is to help their clients move on to a better future!