LOD LOLS

 

Two and a half weeks in, and I've just noticed that the wooden fence opposite my new flat is actually a hybrid construction. This suggests to me a sensible use of precast concrete. There are other possible solutions of course, but I don't have a problem with this one. None of the ugliness of concrete post and panel (what we used to call Durawall in Zimbabwe) but none of the rot issues of the traditional wooden fence it emulates.

On the left a bit of the old-style version, showing deterioration of the sill board and replacement of one of the gate posts. Already showing damp staining at the base. On the right the hybrid version with concrete posts and sill, all quite nicely detailed and economical in its use of the dreaded portland cement.

I'm not sure why it's so hard to design concrete buildings that weather attractively. People love stone, and it's not immediately obvious to me why concrete is at the opposite pole of the "material aesthetics" spectrum, especially from a distance when the natural grain and variation of stone is harder to spot.

But used like this, in small quantities mixed in with natural materials it seems fine. The paving slabs that lead up to my outside door are another example. Stained and slightly mossy, with the odd weed peeking through a joint and a few fallen leaves: perfectly fine.

But the same material used as wall panels... I don't think so. You can get away with the occasional sill or string course but as the main wall finish, exposed concrete conjours up prisons and bunkers in the mind. Or so it seems.

 

 

 

I've always thought of "the lounge" as more of a multi-function workspace. From my earliest days as a student of architectural 55 years ago. I wanted somewhere I could play music, paint pictures, build models, as well as to talk with friends, cook and eat. Living Room is a better term.

When did "lounge" become popular anyway? There was a time when "parlor" was the accepted label. That's one thing I love about old Architect's drawings, the ever evolving nomenclature. Soane always labeled his bedrooms "chamber" Is that an indication of changing patterns of use? Or is it the beginnings of our current mania for changing the "acceptable term", the inherent self-doubt of modernity?

Anyway I am gradually populating the biggest room in my future home. Currently a desk (displaying a Revit model of the flat of course) and space for three people to sit. All the furniture is quite easy to move around. Ideas will evolve with use. Also I probably want to replace the carpet with something that is more tolerant of messy activities.

 

 

I will probably have more to say about the Revit model. What is the appropriate level of detail? That perennial question. Depends on the purpose /context. I think of it more as a question to be constantly asked rather than a set of "universal standards" by which to judge if a model complies with the contract.

In this case it's just for me to visualise furniture in the space before finalising my order. Once it's recognisable and the right size, no point in putting in more work. I have plenty of other things I need to do this visit.

 

As an abstract combination of colours and shapes this has a lot going for it. Of course it wouldn't be the same without the bright sunshine, the clear blue sky and the shadow angle.

From that point of view I guess it was especially lucky to have been there at that particular moment in time and to have turned around to contemplate the view behind me.

The there is the juxtaposition of different cultural eras, styles, technologies. The gable and dormer look far too regular to be genuinely old. They could be Victorian or Edwardian inventions I suppose. Maybe they were rebuilt from photographs after a fire or collapse. Maybe I will learn more about the history of these buildings as time goes on.

Sometimes trees and people are crucial to bring the character of an urban location to life, but in this case it is their absence that makes the view so satisfying to my mind. There is a strange tension between the picturesque and the minimalist impulse.

This is quintessential Basingstoke. At almost every turn the old town and new town are spliced together. Neither of them exceptional examples of their type, but the way they are woven together helps a lot.

It's just a moment in time, but it will do.

 

More heresy about the dreaded LOD. I wanted to check the space between daybed and bookshelves. In particular, can I get a Step-stool in there and does it look like that would be useful for an old man with a dodgy back to find books on the bottom shelf. (something to sit on/lean on)

The family I made is missing one extrusion to match the actual IKEA product. But that can be added at any time, so I declared the family "fit-for-purpose" and moved on. Now that it's been ordered, delivered and assembled, I realise two more things.

Firstly it's useful as a bedside table. Secondly if I really wanted to venture up the LOD ladder, the legs have a slight slope, for stability obviously. But my virtual room is perfectly fine. Real life takes priority.

The bookshelves are a system with different sizes. It would have been fun to introduce arrays and make a single parametric family to cover all the options. But I decided that was overkill and made two fixed-geometry objects.

 

The fireplace is part of the flat, but I added a bit of detail just to trick my brain into imagining the space. The metal shelves should have baskets, but again, why go to the extra effort?

So I'm making judgement calls. What LOD fits the situation. And that's my point. LOD is a useful concept to remind us that we can start with very simple bounding boxes with generic labels. As a project progresses we can refine both geometry and data. It's a choice to be made, not a set of cast-in-stone rules that bog down the design process.

My opinion.