A pattern language

Esther Sugihto
3 min readJun 21, 2016

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Image by Arnaud Mesureur, www.unsplash.com

Should a city have an overarching masterplan? Who decides on which plan is appropriate? Similarly, should the design of your dining chairs have an overarching masterplan? And who decides on which plan is appropriate here?

Christopher Alexander is an American architect practising in the time of modernism. His critique of the movement of the day highlights his agenda of a ‘Timeless Way of Building,’ one grounded in a human scale. His 1977 pattern book, ‘A Pattern Language,’ outlines 253 patterns from city scale down to materials used in building. When combined in innumerable permutations, it creates recipes of combinations of how spaces should be designed — a kind of generative grammar. He suggests a holistic way to think about environment design, incredibly, at any scale.

Here is a sample of patterns of the built environment as written in A Pattern Language:

5. Lace of country streets

21. Four-storey limit

35. Household mix

57. Children in the city

70. Grave sites

100. Pedestrian street

161. Sunny place

197. Thick walls

253. Things from your life

While it the book certainly has its loyal followers from many disciplines (most interestingly, responsible for the progress seen in agile development), it has just as many critics. Upon reading it, I’m equally drawn to its refreshing non-conventional approach, as I am by its outdated caricatures of a perfect society.

Most of all, however, it rethinks spaces based solely on the human response, regardless of cost, regardless of practicality, regardless of engineering, regardless of construction methodologies. It could be construed as rather irresponsible, yet it has a purity of intent, despite the outcome’s shortcomings.

I’m in the process of redesigning my own home, following some patterns that resonate with me:

  • Pattern 143: bed cluster
  • Pattern 185: sitting circle
  • Pattern 186: communal sleeping
  • Pattern 188: bed alcove
  • Pattern 190: ceiling height variety

By removing a wall between two children’s bedrooms, it opens up the rooms into one larger open space, which will have a communal sleeping element through a couple of bed alcoves forming a cluster. These bed alcoves can look onto a common area where a sitting circle can occur. Furthermore, the ceiling heights vary between the two original rooms, so with a wall removed, this will spatially inform the sleeping space from the sitting space.

Bed alcove, by Clare Cousins Architects, Melbourne

While many will tell you that doing such a renovation may cause a drop in property prices (now a two bedroom dwelling rather than a three bedroom dwelling), I am of the mindset that this design intervention will attract a more social and cohesive way for children to grow and learn to live together. And remember, reinstatement of the wall is always an option later on.

Bed and sitting alcoves onto a communal space, by H2O Architectures, Paris

I encourage anyone looking to renovate their home or office, undertake a garden design or participate in changes to their neighbourhood streetscape, to read this book and note down any patterns that may be relevant to your project. Similar to a Pinterest page or a scrap book, your selection of patterns will help communicate your ideas and values to your architect — a tool that will pay back many times over as your project develops.

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Esther Sugihto

Social Design + Architecture | curating community through architecture | Melbourne Australia | http://www.so-da.com.au