In case you missed it, Clare Lise Kelly, senior architectural historian for Montgomery County, Maryland, recently published a fantastic book, Montgomery Modern: Modern Architecture in Montgomery County, Maryland, 1930-1979. The section on one of my favorite topics–prefabricated housing–starts on page 19. It includes a mention of the late-1940s plywood-panel Gunnison Homes (possibly the cutest of all the postwar prefabs, IMO). I was honored to see, in the footnotes, that Kelly used my blog post on the Gunnison Homes in Silver Spring and Kensington, Maryland as a resource for the book. From my cursory windshield surveys back in 2010, it seemed that most of the thirteen Gunnison Homes in Silver Spring possessed sufficient integrity to warrant a National Register multiple property nomination.
Sometimes research topics intersect in really strange ways. There I was, knee-deep in ice house research, when I got a message from a journalist friend asking, “Jen, do you know anything about the Falls Church ‘igloo houses’?” Beyond the apparent sub-zero nomenclature, unfortunately, there is no connection whatsoever between the two types of structures. The first was usually an underground pit (at least in the early 19th century) built to store ice through the summer. The second was an igloo-shaped dome made of concrete sprayed over a giant balloon, a late 1930s invention of a California architect named Wallace Neff. At the time the igloo houses were constructed in 1941, ice houses were well on their way to obsolescence thanks to the Rural Electrification Project and the advent of electric refrigerators. But the “igloo houses” and ice houses did have one thing in common–both served as a cool retreat in the summertime. Neff’s concrete dwellings apparently stayed comfortable, albeit damply so, in the heat of our northern Virginia summers, prior to the advent of air conditioning. Alas, they were razed and replaced by an apartment complex in the early 1960s. Read more about the igloo houses, officially named Airform homes, courtesy of talented writer and historic preservation advocate Kim A. O’Connell, in the March-April 2016 issue of Arlington Magazine.
In my ongoing research on ice houses, the apparent lack of clear building trends within time periods and geographic regions continues to frustrate me. I originally conceived of my research project with the goal of developing a typology of Potomac Valley ice houses and delineating general construction periods to assist architectural historians and archaeologists. With supporting field work data, perhaps ice house or ice well remnants could be identified and dated via the shape or dimensions of the pit, construction materials, or other factors.
As far as outbuildings go, it’s a simple structure with one purpose: to preserve a huge pile of ice as long as possible, ideally until the following Winter. How much variation could there really be? British ice houses almost always took the form of a large conical brick-lined pit, covered with an earthen mound (which could also serve as a garden mount), revetted into a hillside, or covered with a conical thatched roof. One would expect to find these traditional forms prevalent among the early ice houses in America. Indeed, earthen mound or hillside ice wells can be found at the Governor’s Palace at Colonial Williamsburg (early 1700s), possibly the Oxon Hill Manor archeological site (18th c.), Hampton in Towson, Maryland (1790s), Lexington Manor archeological site in Lorton, Virginia (1790s), and Huntley in Alexandria, Virginia (1820s). However, my preliminary research and field work is turning up examples of subterranean conical or circular ice wells built long after the agricultural advice literature proclaimed them obsolete and unnecessarily expensive compared to square ice wells or double-walled above-ground ice houses. As early as 1806, Frederic Tudor, the first American ice merchant, proclaimed traditional subterranean ice house construction obsolete, and subsequently built the first of many above-ground commercial ice houses. American farmers, however, seem to have avoided this “new” type of ice house construction until after the Civil War. Continue reading
“The days are long but the years are short.” I’ve often heard this said about parenthood, especially the early years, but I think it applies to life in general just as well. Somehow, over five years has gone by since the last time I posted to this blog. I had launched it not long after getting my Master’s degree, as a way to keep my writing skills fresh while job hunting. I also wanted to continue researching 20th-century prefab housing–the topic of my thesis–and needed a way to quickly share new bits and pieces that would hopefully help others in the preservation community and general public.
Fast forward five years, after working as an architectural historian/planner with an environmental services firm, having kids, losing sleep (re: kids), staying home with kids, working on a few research projects, moving to a new house, and changing my web hosting provider, I think I’m ready to put this blog back online. Continue reading
The 2010 Vernacular Architecture Forum conference, “Housing Washington,” has sadly drawn to a close. I’ve heard from many in the architectural history and preservation fields that VAF conferences are their favorite, and now I understand why. A great balance of bus tours, walking tours, and sessions of three 20-minute presentations grouped by theme keeps things moving and interesting.
As for me, I somehow managed to get through my presentation, “Postwar Prefabs in the Washington, D.C., Suburbs: The Mass-Production Success of Vernacular Prefab Homes,” without dry heaves or hyperventilating. Many thanks to session moderator Janet Foster, of Columbia University, and the other session presenters, Nancy Holst and Erin Cunningham, for providing a supportive, collegiate atmosphere.
I was pleasantly surprised at the interest the audience showed in my topic — more historians have begun to take interest in the prefab homes in their own postwar suburbs. Continue reading
There’s an open house this weekend of a charming postwar cottage for sale in Silver Spring, Maryland, with some special qualities that are hidden in plain sight.
1948 Gunnison Home prefab. 9130 Walden Rd., Silver Spring, MD
The front exterior brick chimney with metal “S”-curve embellishment, metal interior chimney with double vent slits, and vertical seams on the interior walls (spaced every four feet) clearly identify the house as a late 1940s Gunnison Home prefab. In fact, it’s one of twelve Gunnison Homes constructed on Walden Road, on the block between E. Melbourne Avenue and Saffron Lane, with at least one more around the corner on E. Melbourne.
Aluminaire, NYIT, Central Islip, NY, Aug. 2009
The 1931 Aluminaire just can’t catch a break. It has been moved, and subsequently forgotten, not once, not twice, but thrice in its lifetime. Each time, after a brief flurry of excitement about this one-of-a-kind early American International-style house, it has faded back into obscurity, waiting to be rediscovered yet again.
Designed by architects A. Lawrence Kocher and Albert Frey for the 1931 Architectural League exhibition in New York, the Aluminaire was one of only two houses by American architects to be included in the Museum of Modern Art’s famed 1932 International Exhibition of Modern Architecture.
In the late 1980s, a grassroots campaign helped save the house from demolition, and the New York Institute of Technology got a grant to disassemble and move the house to their Central Islip, Long Island campus. Here’s a New York Times piece about the restoration project.