Review of Osae-Addo House coverage, Dwell Sept '07

I was pleased to see one redeemable article in the 1/2" thick sellout that comprises Dwell Magazine these days.  (Please, stop sending me this landfill doorstop.)

It's about a couple who move back to Accra, and build a house specially designed to deal with HOT, HUMID weather.  Rather like our 93d, 90% humidity days this last few weeks.

I thought I'd list off a few strategies that Joe Osae-Addo incorporates in his house (near as I can tell from photos) and record what I think of them.

First, a GREAT quote:

"Interstitial spaces and landscape are what defines tropical architecture...It is not about edifice but rather harnessing the elements - trees, wind, sun, and water - to create harmony, not the perfection that modernism craves so much." ~Osae-Addo

That's Hero-worthy, that is.  Architecture not about edifice.  Hallelujah.

Onto the cooling strategies that I think are a good idea.  These will be followed by the red herrings (*).

1. The house has no internal corridors, allowing air flow and cross-ventilation to occur whenever you're lucky enough to get a breeze.  Also allows daylighting.
2. The house is surrounded by a deck and deep eaves, that shade the walls/windows, and protect the foundation from washout.
3. There are slatted sliding shades on the deck itself, offering opportunities to create shaded breezes.
4. The house's floor is raised about 3' off the ground, making the crawlies really invest in any hope of future return.  The article says this elevation also 'takes advantage of cooling breezes'* and 'provides access to the electrical and plumbing underneath'*.  Perhaps theoretically.  See below.
5. I see high ceilings in the photos, and white walls to reflect the shaded light.  Also ceiling fans, and high windows to let heat out where it accumulates.  I also see a floor-stand fan, and a water dispensary, and the people shown in the photos do 'glow'.  It may be cooler, but it's not US definition of cool.  That's okay.  I see little carpet - what's there looks like sisal - and surfaces look designed not to absorb moisture, shiny waxes, polyurethane, etc.  All good.  Think boat.
6. Shade trees.  Very effective.

Okay, here are the 'features' that prove the author of the article has little experience with heat/humidity as a lifestyle.

• Elevating the floor to 'take advantage of cooling breezes.'  Coolth sinks, bub.  You crawl under your house, it will be nice and cool under there.  If you're running air conditioning at all, you will lose some out the inevitable leaks in the floor.  Constant battle at my house with the sealant gun.
• Elevating the floor to provide access to systems.  This is wishful thinking.  3' minus the thickness of the floor system gives you just enough room to slither under there and say - yup, that's where the drain is.  It doesn't give you any elbow room to actually work.  Even a power drill is difficult.  If 'providing access' is your goal, start with 5', grade-to-finish-floor, and 8' would be better.  Don't worry, the pipes won't freeze.  Then you can hang out under the house, like they do in Australia.
• The house brags about its jalousie windows, and that they're used floor-to-ceiling.  This is great for cross-ventilation - but jalousies are horrible for keeping out (1) bugs; (2) humidity; (3) air leaks.  If you have any plans at all for HVAC - don't use them.  Use a double- or triple-hung instead, with the top sash as close to the ceiling as possible, to let out heat.

Because I can't end on a downer, I have to (reluctantly) applaud Dwell for addressing heat and humidity together.  I rarely see that combo in the mainstream media, yet we're all going to be seeing more of it in the coming years, I feel sure.  Also, I like seeing a focus on lessons to be learned from the non-First World, even if we have to follow ivory-tower academics from LA to get there.  Sigh.  Always a compromise, in this life.

(Confidential to KB - your email addy keeps bouncing my replies.)

Comments

[Eoin]

Raised floor /= cool.

I remember childhood summers stretched out on my belly on the poured cement or terazzo floors of those 1960s cinder-block houses, letting the heat leach out into the stone, into the ground.