Trending /// Part 2: Kitchen islands

5 Bd 4 Ba Colonial for $895,000 | 2262 Riverwood Pl, Saint Paul, MN 55104

Now, of course, the dream is the big open kitchen with commercial grade appliances sitting on vast archipelagos of kitchen Islands, most of which never gets used because it smokes up the house and it’s too hard to clean so why don’t we just order in. The kitchen becomes an exhibit demonstrating how much money the working man and woman have, a place to put on a show on weekends, often by the man who likes the showy stuff.

Wow. Lloyd Alter certainly does not mince his words when opining about the kitchen island trend. His piece covers the interesting, socio-political history of kitchen design, and he slips in this comment about islands near the end. Is there validity to his statement? Sure. But there seems to be much more going and we should be careful to dismiss the kitchen island trend as merely a display of wealth.

Here in Part 2 of our mini-series on current home design trends we will focus on kitchen islands. Let’s define a kitchen island (with the help of Cambridge Dictionary) as a piece of furniture with a worktop and cupboard space, that is placed in the middle of a kitchen [and matches the height of the other cabinets].

As I discovered quite quickly, exploring the history and concept of the kitchen island unlocks the door to much larger ideas surrounding the kitchen as a concept (which connects to the entire design of our homes).

There’s so much more to unpack, and the topic has been written about extensively, but here’s a brief historical overview.

For much of human history, the “kitchen” consisted of an open hearth, serving as the center of the home and life itself as it provided heat, light, and safety.

Here in the “West”, the wide-spread adoption of the residential chimney in the 16th century led to much cleaner air quality, as well as the separation of the Great Hall design in England. Homes transitioned to include both a room to cook in and a separate room to serve as the living room.

Hang tight though, we’ll explore more of this separation and its relation to our current home designs next time as we analyze open-concept living.

Let’s fast-forward a few hundred years to find islands playing a vital role within kitchens of wealthy households.

Where else do you prepare all the food for those extravagant dinner parties? A chunky, nearly indestructible table sounds like a good place to start (think Downtown Abbey).

Later in the 20th century, spearheaded by the work of the likes of Frank-Lloyd Wright, Russel and Mary Wright, and Allmon Fordyce, among others, the (re)introduction of open-living and the furniture it needed to function helped lead to the concept of the kitchen island familiar to us today.

Today we travel to a renovated 1920’s colonial-style home in St. Paul, Minnesota.

A few important pieces of data stood out from my research:

As kitchens grew in size, perhaps the island became a necessary design feature in order to allow a larger kitchen to remain efficient?

There’s so much to discuss about the history of ergonomics of kitchens, but today, let’s focus on the social aspect of kitchen islands.

The colonial’s renovated kitchen provides us an insightful case study as researching islands uncovers their commonly described role as a gathering point within the “heart of the home”.

Houzz communicates a similar story within the same survey as the top non-cooking uses of islands included: eating (58%), entertaining (49%) and socializing (45%).

This island seems to align with these three purposes. Without the island, the kitchen certainly does not seem to lack for function, and the island may actually restrict movement of workflow.

So how did this specific piece of kitchen furniture form become so ubiquitous? Are there other ways to design the kitchen to satisfy the clear longing to socialize in this specific space? I keep coming back to this question: why an island?

There’s actually a movement of designers that hope to shift the landscape to include the “domestic warmth” of a table instead of the common waist-high island form.

These designers question the power-dynamics that can accompany an island, primarily through the performative act of cooking in front of others. Along with the discomfort of sitting on a bar stool or standing for an extended period of time, they contrast it to the more communal and relaxing nature of sitting around a table.

Both strands of thought seem to make sense. While I let these ideas incubate in the last few weeks, the concept of the island as a “leaning space”-meaning a space we inhabit that facilitates temporal experiences, often with rotating social interactions-continued to surface.

Other examples we thought of could include restaurant and pub bars, coffee/espresso bars in cafes, or maybe even a billiards or cocktail table.

These spaces are commonly depicted as conducive for honest conversations as bartenders double as therapists (..and I don’t think it’s merely the influence of alcohol…) as people chat long into the night, sitting side-by-side.

So how does our posture change around these specific pieces of furniture?

Does sitting side-by-side, rather than across, help us feel more comfortable confiding in each other? I know I often find it easier to dive into deep conversation when sitting next to a friend — it feels like a physical manifestation of walking through life with them rather than the often intimidating posture of staring face-to-face.

Or maybe the physical separation of bars and islands themselves facilitate open dialogue.

Rather than producing unhealthy performative relationships, what if the bustling activities of a barista, bartender or home chef actually promotes a feeling of safety to confide in?

Or finally, could the temporal act of leaning on a counter, or sitting on an often uncomfortable bar stool, offer an ever-helpful escape-method that contrasts with sinking into the clutches of an arm chair?

After flipping through the listing photos and trying to connect the dots between kitchens, islands, and their relationship to the rest of our homes and lives, I’m left wondering… perhaps the kitchen island does in fact provide us with a unique gathering place that facilitates meaningful conversations unlikely to occur within other spaces in our homes.

Further musings:

I found these different kitchen floor plans fascinating. I hope you enjoy!

Christine Frederick (1919: Household Engineering)

Margarete Schütte-Lihotzky’s Frankfurt Kitchen(1926) source

Listing photos courtesy of Caldwell Banker Realty

Originally published at https://buttondown.email.