Category

Opinion

Hypothesis [$300 = House]

On
by Andrew Wright

Challenges of Housing Production for the Poorest in the Developing World
Report on the 300 Dollar House Workshop, January 25-28 2012 at Dartmouth College

“The Three Hundred Dollar House, you mean three hundred per square foot?” A friend’s incredulity summarizes the responses I heard to the title of a workshop at Dartmouth College.  He and I worked together on a project costing multiples of 300 dollars per square foot, his career is in construction, and he knows the price of a pound of nails. The thought of building a house for $300, even at the most minimal standards, seemed an impossibility.

The initial idea of the THDH* was the brain child of Vijay Govindarajan, a professor at the Tuck School of Management at Dartmouth College and Christian Sarkar, referred to as the disruptive fellow in the back. They conceived of the “brand” to bring attention to the issues of housing for the very poorest in the developing world. By provocatively setting the price that low they hoped to push architects, engineers, planners and financiers to explore innovative designs and economic models. They organized an online international competition to initiate the process. Coincidentally the competition drew 300 hundred entries.

From these entries a jury selected six finalists. Many of the finalists were able to attend a workshop hosted by Dartmouth in Hanover in January 2012. The workshop’s goals were to capture the energy sparked by the competition and to explore the steps necessary to create something that would cast a shadow. The workshop, organized by Jack Wilson of the Studio Arts Department, focused on Haiti because of Dartmouth’s connections to the country and its pressing needs.

In addition to the finalists, Dartmouth students and faculty from the engineering and business school, participants from Haitian groups and a handful of engineers and architect were invited. I was included because of my familiarity with designing and building in Haiti. For three intense days the participants wrestled with the issues of urban and rural housing, community development and financial models.

Two Haitian communities, one rural and one urban, were the focus for the workshop. Strong organizations within both communities had originally provided medical services and then branched into social services. Fond des Blancs, a stable rural community relatively untouched by the January 2010 earthquake, benefited from the St. Boniface Haiti Foundation. Cite de Dieu is an urban “slum” in Port-au-Prince. After the earthquake GHESKIO Center, a nearby clinic, filled a vacuum left by a weak and overwhelmed city government by providing not only community medical services but also other significant municipal functions.

Fond des Blancs, Photo by John D. Wilson

During the workshop it fell to me to wear an unfamiliar hat. Instead of my architect’s role Jack asked me to lead the group on community development and infrastructure. We were charged with addressing eight areas:

  • Energy Communications
  • Transportation
  • Potable water
  • Sanitation
  • Waste Management
  • Employment

This formidable list was initially an obstacle. We could not find the key to unlock the process of thinking about the issues of Fond des Blancs and Cite de Dieu. We had too many avenues and too little time and data. It was Jean St Denis, a community organizer from Fond des Blancs, who set us on the right track. He gently repeated until we listened “employment is the key”. He pointed out that even if it was possible to build a three hundred dollar house it still had no viability unless a person could afford it.

Cite de Dieux, Photo 

With that insight we looked closely at the issues that inhibited the economic and employment picture of Font des Blancs. We acknowledged that as an island nation with minimal natural resources Haiti’s economic base will eventually lie in exporting their unique products overseas, but assuming that walking must come before running we decided to focus on the local market in town. A list of items available there was developed. The question was raised why there was no fish available at the market even though the town was only 20 kilometers from a coastal fishing village. Jean St. Denis concluded that the issues were not so much physically imposed as the result of culture and customs. He promised to return to Fond des Blancs and institute a motor bike delivery service for fresh fish preserved in ice.

We recognized that many of the issues of poor employment options were not so easily addressed and that it was presumptuous of us to propose solutions from Hanover for Haiti. The general consensus of the workshop participants living in Haiti was that the issue was not a lack of financial resources. There are non-governmental organizations and international governmental agencies looking for viable projects to support and fund. Haitian groups with plans and community backing were in demand. To help Fond des Blancs gain visibility we suggested that a formation of a community development council was a start. The council of the leaders and change agents of the community would analyze in a more thoughtful and through way the steps that we had started.

To that end we created a Facebook page Fond des Blancs as a simple step to help increase the visibility of the community. Please feel free to add your comments there.

Unfortunately we were forced to leave the issues of Cite de Dieu for another time or another group. Besides not having enough time we realized that the urban context had different circumstances. In particularly it is a more fluid and open system.

So if you have read this far and you still do not have the answer to the question “can you build a house for 300 dollars”, the answer is no, at least not in Haiti at the present moment. There does not seem to be a silver bullet for the issues of housing costs, much less the expensive infrastructure. Industrial housing solution is effective in areas with good transportation access and high site labor costs. Lowered costs generally only apply when the scale of production is hundreds, not tens, such as in Levittown, NY after WWII. Traditional materials and forms frequently effectively meet the needs of people who for financial reasons must build their housing in stages. Framing systems which over time may prove more cost-effective, but their introduction into the Haitian market is at a nascent stage.

Immediately after the earthquake there was a plethora of proposals for inexpensive relief housing from designers, architects and engineers of the developed world. Many of these proposals had little relation to Haitian needs and housing expectations, nor to the climate and construction realities of the country. Thankfully most proposals did not get beyond the talking stage.

At the Dartmouth workshop the two (rural & urban) housing groups had members who understood the issues relevant to Haiti much more clearly. The groups developed designs based on habitable standards and traditional materials and layout. They responded to the difficulties of building in Cite de Dieu, with the existing poor soil conditions and flooding. In Fond des Blancs the traditional form of front porch, sleeping quarters and rear yard for cooking were respected.

Cite de Dieux, Photo by John D. Wilson

However, in both locations the costs were in the thousands of dollars, not in the hundreds – even when pared down to the “basic starter unit”. So if the number was wrong, does that invalidate the process? Without that number or another like it, the workshop would not have gotten off the ground. If you can harness the energy of the workshop into a prototype, if a student’s career takes on an added dimension, if the arrival of fresh fish in Fond des Blancs triggers the birth of a stronger market, then the workshop was a success.

*www.300house.com

Foreign Help? Well. Yes.

On
by Andrew Wright

By Nora Mertens

The company that I work for, Tonetti Associates Architects (TAA), has recently completed the design for a Family Health and Nutrition Center for GHESKIO (The Haitian Group for the Study of Kaposi’s Sarcoma and Opportunistic Infections) Clinic in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. Our involvement in Haiti, in the wake of the destruction left by the January 2010 earthquake, has led us to ask questions about what post-colonial critics call “neocolonialsm,” a term often used to describe developed countries’ involvement in the developing world; it implies a form of contemporary “economic imperialism,” In this article, I will explore these questions, also in light of my recent experience of visiting Port-au-Prince.

My first impressions of Port-au-Prince – after a mere 42 minutes flight from Miami – came from the passenger seat of a car with darkened windows as the driver sped, honked and bounced his way down the unpaved streets from the airport to the GHESKIO Clinic. As I looked out, I saw all that I had heard about Haiti: the poverty, the vast tent cities of those who lost their homes in the earthquake (today more than a half-million people still live in tents), the heaps of garbage bordering the roads. At the GHESKIO Clinic I saw people in pain, patients waiting patiently for their treatment or standing in long lines to pick up their HIV medicine. I heard the deafening city noise and felt the immense heat and humidity that hits you in your face every time you leave an air-conditioned building or car.

During the following days we spent at the GHESKIO Clinic, doctors would mention on a regular basis that they had lost yet another cholera patient.  There was much that was disturbing, but also much that was impressive. I saw beautiful people who showed strength, perseverance, and even humor in the face of suffering. The images of destruction were contrasted by images of great natural beauty, such as the view down into the valley from our hotel terrace, where foreign NGO workers would enjoy colonial breakfasts.

On my flight back to JFK, I became aware of the conversations around me; most passengers were NGO workers, returning home from Haiti. They all seemed to have stories of prosthetic devices or churchy missions that they exchanged with serious yet content countenances. In a New York Times article entitled “Haiti’s New Tourists” (September 6, 2011) the Haitian journalist Isabelle Dupuy writes, “A new form of tourism is emerging. Through hard work, compassion and – let’s say it – a bit of misery voyeurism, it offers redemption with a tan. (…) In exchange for your money and your help, Haiti offers immediate, terrorist-free access to a version of the human condition right near home. You can be digging a well in Leogane in the morning and be telling the tale in Manhattan in the evening.”

I don’t mean to sound dismissive of foreigners’ contributions to Haiti. It seems that without their money, clothes, aid workers, medical knowledge, and yes, perhaps architectural designs, there would be little hope at all in Haiti, especially post-earthquake. However, I have to think of of the words of Philippe Gerard, who writes in his book, Haiti: The Tumultuous History – From Pearl of the Caribbean to Broken Nation, “the answer to this oft-mentioned question – what the United States should do to help Haiti – is simple: As little as possible.”

According to Girard, the term “foreign neocolonialism” is a common refrain in Haiti today, despite the aid-donor’s good intentions.  He explains how foreign help can do more harm than good by creating conditions of dependence.

So what are we left with at TAA in terms of justifying our involvement in Haiti? How can we help developing countries appropriately, when we don’t find ourselves able to turn our backs?

These questions about appropriate aid have particular relevance also to the field of architecture. In a New York Times article entitled “Hands off our Houses” (June 1, 2011), Mathias Echanove and Rahul Srivastave explained some of the issues that may arise when architects from so-called developed countries assist in low-income housing projects in the developing world. Echanove and Srivastave discuss a competition where students, architects and businesses were asked to design a prototype for a $300 house to improve the lives of millions of urban poor around the world. Unfortunately, “the person whose input would matter most is left out of the competition: the person who is supposed to live in it.” Reality is more complex than the contest implies.

Echanove and Srivastave detail the potential problems with the project by discussing its applicability to Dharavi, a slum in the outskirts of Mumbai, where space already is scarce and a typical home is worth at least $3000. Houses are upgraded as income increases, which wouldn’t be possible with standardized $300 houses. Also, because construction is an important local industry in Dharavi, pre-fabricated $300 houses – built with non-domestic materials – would put many people out of business: “The $300 house responds to our misconceptions more than to real needs. The dynamic needs, interests and aspirations of the millions of people who live in places like Dharavi have been overlooked. While businessmen and professors applaud the $300 house, the urban poor are silent, busy building a future from themselves.”

Despite the potential problems articulated by critics like Girard, Echanove and Srivastave, I believe that there is a way for foreigners to effectively assist a country in need, but it requires some thorough investigation. If we want to make a meaningful difference, we should discover people’s real needs, interests and aspirations.  We cannot know and should not assume what people are in need of, but should instead question, listen and watch. We cannot find a deeper understanding of a place, its people and their needs without taking into consideration the results of thorough anthropological research. In my opinion, we can get glimpses of truth if we are willing to make the effort.

As we engage in this process, we must also look to ourselves. Why do we want to intervene? Is it perhaps about control, dependence, superiority? Are we helping in the right places? Since the earthquake, Haiti has had more nongovernmental organizations working on its shores than any nation in the world save India (which is a hundred times more populous). Do we find there is somehow more honor in helping the people of Haiti than in helping the millions of people living below the poverty line in the United States? Is it possible that our state and economic institutions dictate in which direction we are looking, and with what kind of attitude?

We must also question the sources of information that feed these motives. It is important to be aware of what journalist Gbemisola Olujobi calls “disaster pornography.” Reports that are biased and sensationalized sell, even if they generalize, are inaccurate, and dismiss any potential for progress.

A recent study by the Trans Africa Forum that looked at stories on Africa by The New York Times and The Washington Post found that they tended to fall into three categories: “AIDS, development and conflict.” Western media blocks out “Africa’s stock market, high rises, internet cafes, heart surgeries (and) soaring literacy.” This kind of disaster reporting causes negative perceptions that lead to lower levels of foreign investment, which could otherwise contribute to growing a stronger economy.

Despite reliance on foreign help being one of the main causes of Haiti’s misfortune, according to Philippe Girard there are in fact ways in which the United States could help. Besides assisting in short-term disaster relief in the case of a major hurricane or earthquake (here pre-fabricated $300 houses may come in handy as a more sanitary and robust alternative to tents), US businesses could help creating the conditions for lasting self-driven economic growth in Haiti by investing in areas where Haiti has a competitive advantage, like labor-intensive industries, handicrafts and tourism.

So how have we at TAA justified and conducted our engagement in Haiti in light of all of these issues surrounding foreign assistance? For one thing, we responded to a real and immediate need. After the earthquake, cholera and malaria spread easily in the unsanitary conditions of refugee camps and tent cities. The GHESKIO clinic staff asked for our help because there was a lack of qualified architects in the country.

For another thing, we did our research. The TAA staff visited Haiti five times during the design process in order to gain insights into the needs of future patients. We observed the use of the current buildings, had numerous conversations with the clinic’s staff, and used all of this information in the design. Since most of the patients cannot read, we made navigating the interior simple and clear. Additionally, the design incorporates an internal shaded covered street, popular in Haiti, which creates natural ventilation and allows for children to play about during the long waiting times.

Finally, we made sure to examine our motives. We believe that any creative process requires introspection. We have not made any profit from the project, and from the beginning, it was our priority hand over all construction documents to a Haitian construction manager and local contractors.

Through our work with the GHESKIO Clinic and our experiences in Haiti, we have grown personally and as a firm.  Although we did not make a monetary profit, it has been a deeply valuable experience for us. We believe in Haiti’s future and encourage everyone to keep asking, “How can we help?” All the answers are out there.

20

Then And Again

On
by Andrew Wright

By Andrew Wright

Thanks to a Siren call at a flea market, I recently found myself with several dozen issues of ‘Pencil Points, A Journal of the Drafting Room’ dating from the nineteen thirties and forties. ‘Pencil Points’, as its subtitle indicates, focused on the toilers of the architectural firms. Its readers had aspirations no higher than the drafting room. They wore green eye visors, celluloid cuffs and cotton jackets. Along with Microtomic Van Dyke drawing pencils, this group – for whom drafting was their true job description – has largely disappeared, to be replaced by graduates of architectural school who hope to quickly work their way out of the title. ‘Pencil Points’ also has disappeared. It merged with ‘Progressive Architecture’ in the mid forties, and with the merge, the magazine gradually lost its drafting room orientation. ‘Progressive Architecture’ became the most influential of the “glossy” main stream architectural magazines but ceased publication in December 1995.


Both the articles and the advertisements of these early issues are interesting as paleographic markers defining the state of the profession in the 1930s and illustrating the evolution of our field in the intervening seven decades.

The articles in the issues from the early 1930’s do not directly acknowledge the economic maelstrom that the profession was facing. The lead-off article of the October 1932 issue was entitled “Architecture, Art or Science?” The author, Louis La Baume, grappled with the role of art and science in architecture and wisely decided that this role could not be defined in words. This article was followed by an illustrated monograph on “Early Interior Doorways of New England” and another illustrating the comparative details of dormers in traditional residences.


Though not stated, the profession’s turmoil can be inferred. The exquisitely drafted dormer drawings were prepared by the “New York Architects’ Emergency Unemployment Committee”, whose descendent seems to be the “Not Business as Usual” committee of the New York City Chapter of the AIA formed in December 2008. The NBAU web site makes clear the challenges the profession faces: “The economic downturn has had a significant effect on the design community in New York City. The NBAU program focuses on what design professionals need to know and do for themselves and their firms to thrive”.


Another example of the hard times in the 1930s is the employment listings at the back of the October 1932 issue. There are no listings for help wanted. The ads for the positions wanted include such plaintive supplications as “Willing to take any position and salary offered” and “will work for $35.00 per week anywhere”. These sound agonizingly familiar to anyone looking for work today.

The difference between the magazine’s buildings featured in the advertisements and those in the articles illustrates clearly a profession that was reluctantly posed at a threshold. A modernist design for a “filling station” appears in the advertisement of the Vitrolite Company, a manufacturer of steel enameled panels, promoting their product as “modern, cheerful, distinctive – as well as dignified”. Republic Steel claimed a multitude of applications for their ENDURO stainless steel including a curtain wall on the Yonkers Statesman Building. But this luminal moment is not reflected in the articles; the writers were rooted in a comfortable upper middle class profession looking backward to historic European examples, using exquisite draftsmanship to create designs for a world that was fast disappearing.


The advertisements also reflect a technical and practical aspect of the profession that has disappeared at least from current architectural journals. Along with advertisements for the tools of the trade – such as Higgins drafting inks, Esterbrook pens and the Sketch Book Atelier – there were ads for rigid conduit from General Electric, wire fabric for concrete floor reinforcing and cast iron pipe from Youngstown Steel. The architects of the 1930’s had not relinquished as much of the control of building systems to the engineers as the professionals do today.

Being ‘A Journal for the Drafting Room’, the October 1932 issue also has a detailed and lengthy article on the “Whys and Wherefores of the Specification – Plastering” part of a monthly series of technical specifications. Unlike the “Continuing Education” articles in today’s ‘Architectural Record’, this article was a serious effort to educate. It presupposes a considerable level of professional technical knowledge.

So what are we left with? Where are we when compared with our predecessors of seventy years ago?  We have a profession deeply damaged by a severe economic downturn. We have a segment of the community deeply distracted by buildings which have ignored at least some of the Vitruvian rules of fermatas, utilities, venustas. Many critics ignore discussions of process, function, aesthetics and the placement of a building within a context. We have a profession less in control of the construction process and in danger of being relegated to the role of designer rather than master builder.

However, it seems we freely recognize these short comings. During these bad times architects have the opportunity to rethink their roles and redefine where their greatest opportunities and strengths lie. ‘Pencil Points’ of the 1930’s and indeed the ‘Architectural Record’ of 2011 do not reflect the fact that the construction industry, and in fact all of civil society, has a great need for people who care deeply about the shape and form of our built and natural surroundings.

Carrot, not stick

On
by Andrew Wright

By Michael Vanreusel

A column in the New York Times (“Don’t LEED us astray” May 19th 2010), by Alec Applebaum, suggested that the USGBC, parent of the LEED rating system, was placing green badges on buildings that may in fact “leak excessive carbon once in operation”. The columnist argues that for the rating system to be effective the energy use of certified buildings needs to be monitored after completion.

The LEED system is not perfect, but the columnist fails to provide background on LEED criteria, which in fact does require building commissioning. Also, it’s important to weight the likelihood of the suggested scenario, against the realities of the vetting process and the considerable vested interest in achieving energy efficiency. The vetting process is protected by the commitment of professionals to decrease the impact of their buildings on the environment, the separation of interests by a bureaucracy in which parties are invisible to each other and, not least, the owners stake in an investment that will be expected to be justified by energy savings.

The LEED system establishes guidelines and performance criteria for the plethora of issues that are inherent to the construction, use and maintenance of buildings. Beyond the possible award of a badge, the system provides practitioners with a valuable tool. The system recognizes a broad array of practices that will improve the sustainability of buildings without letting builders circumvent stringent basic requirements.

In case of building energy consumption, LEED requires at the very least that the building meets the requirements ASHREA 90.1. The builders will have to consider various building components including the building envelope, HVAC, Water Heating, power distribution and lighting in order to meet stipulated criteria. While the team working on the project may be emphasizing water conservation or indoor air equality, none of the criteria exist in isolation so team members will continuously be assessing each decision’s broader impact. In this regard at least, LEED is remarkable.

Perhaps because the system has been so widely adopted it’s important to place it within the context in which we build. The U.S. Green Building Council is not a government agency; it was started and adopted by practitioners who were alarmed by the impact of buildings on our environment. State governments have previously made compliance with otherwise elective standards mandatory but few of the practices encouraged by LEED have been adopted as requirements. While we clearly need new energy codes and rules to restrict practices that are deleterious to the environment, letting builders aspire to improve the sustainability of their buildings clearly spurs creativity and self-accountability. LEED is doing just that, using a carrot not a stick.

Verification of the performance of the building beyond the scope already included in LEED’s requirements would be a useful gage of an important parameter of the building’s sustainability. Still, it would be a mistake to suppose that buildings that have otherwise gone through an exhaustive vetting process under the helm of professionals committed to sustainability will not perform as designed. The building’s owners provide final oversight and they expect that their LEED badge, will justify their investment into building assemblies, systems and commissioning by lower operating costs and lower energy use.