An Outdoor Room (of different chairs)
Possibly the most thumbed book on the shelf in the office is one that I first came across during my undergraduate degree in architecture at Edinburgh. A Pattern Language by Christopher Alexander, written in the 1970s, is a veritable gold-mine of simple architectural wisdom that transcends culture and time. In the book, there is an interesting little piece called ‘Different Chairs’.
Like so many, I spent more time than ever before at home during lockdown, which led me to reflect much more deeply about the spaces around me. Perhaps the most successful of these over the last few months has been our terrace. This is close to the kitchen door and at the top of the garden that we are lucky enough to share with my parents (my father being a lifelong landscape gardener, now just turned eighty).
During lockdown, this terrace has been a focal point for so much of our lives. A cup of tea for one, or two, reading, shared lunch as a nuclear family, eating pizza in the evening from the wood oven with friends and wider family. It seems to hold such a range of different uses so easily and so generously. Why?
There are some fundamentals about the basic canvas that certainly help. It orients south down a good view. It is surrounded to the north by hedging and trees which provide shelter from the wind. It is elevated slightly above the rest of the garden giving a sense of a good vantage point. Whilst not symmetrical it has a good sense of balance (which I invariably prefer to symmetry). And it is close enough to the back door for the functional to and fro.
But it is also a classic example of A Pattern Language’s chapter: ‘Different Chairs’. ‘Different Chairs’ describes how, rather than trying to arrive at a design for the perfect place to sit, accept that people are all shapes and sizes and that at different times and for different purposes they like to sit on different chairs.
Our terrace has one big central table with a long bench down either side, seating 4 fairly elegantly, and squashing up for 5 or even 6 children. At each end is a wicker cushioned chair, often angled towards the morning sun for tea. Then there’s a smaller round table that we move around, sometimes down onto the lawn, which we often use if we’re having supper just with another couple. There are two more wicker chairs to move with it or to use as footstools. Then there’s a big stone bench which angles well to the afternoon sun and has a clipped hedge round the back and sides which make it a sofa. A couple of low walls frame either side of the terrace, set with copings at seat height, and are well-worn perches when we have a party. Two pairs of low steps then take you down to the lawn, arcing around a central birdbath, again often perched upon during a party. Then the most recent addition, which I built with our boys, is the little wooden pavilion, set up above the rest of the terrace, with a comfy sofa and cushions inside and a roof for the rain or shade.
In many ways, it’s an odd collection and one that would not be intuitive to draw for an architect. It lacks nice clean symmetry and order, and could easily appear cluttered on a plan. But, it really works. It allows people to choose how to engage and how to sit; in the middle or at the edge, ensconced or perched. So many people who come say how much they love the feel of it, even if they can’t necessarily put a finger on quite why. I am sure it has much to do with different chairs.
Tom Howard — September 2020
