An Elemental Study in Conservation: A Ceramic Artists' Retreat on Virginia's Rappahannock River

In the process of developing my thesis, I wanted to let go of the contemporary way of thinking about the relationship between architecture and sustainability, which lately tends to be through a lens of applied technology and a baseline understanding of building code that assumes the structure will be designed around an HVAC system that runs 24/7/365 and windows that will never open. I found it difficult to shed that habit, as the first sketches I produced showed massive amounts of insulation in the walls (which again, assumes that the interior air is mechanically conditioned). I thought about how long air conditioning has been a factor in culture today. Just one generation ago, young people were growing up in homes that didn't have air conditioning, or if they did, it was space-based, cooling whatever room happened to be occupied. Certainly, the generation before the previous did not live in a culture where air conditioning was an assumed part of building design. We're now spending more time huddled in our air conditioned homes, which is harmful to our health, distorting the way in which our bodies naturally acclimatize to changing weather. Air conditioning was once considered a luxury expense, and now is practically, or actually, illegal to be without.

In addition to the relationship between architecture and air, I also thought about water. Where do we get our potable water from and how? Is the way we currently collect, filter, distribute, receive, use, and dispose of water the best practice for keeping our rivers and aquifers healthy and clean? What about the way we heat our buildings? Every apartment I've lived in the city of Richmond, VA has had at least one fireplace, and they are all bricked up. My current apartment has two chimneys, one in the living room and one in the bedroom, both of which have been long forgotten when the building was hooked up to gas heat. I look around the skyline of my neighborhood and see hundreds of unused chimneys. Is that progress? Is the technology we have now to heat homes more efficient, able to provide more comfort, or better for our environment that what we had used for staying warm in the winter for thousands of years?

Lastly, I thought about the relationship between architecture and landscape, especially in regard to plants and animals with which we share our habitat. Not just the native plants and animals that happen to be around us, but also the plants and animals we choose to cultivate and raise. I also think architecture also has a place in the reconsideration of our culture's relationship with food, which is to say, our relationship with the earth, our source of food. I was adamant that the site I chose, and the way in which I created architecture on it, would have a positive impact on both the people who visit, and the local ecosystem.

In order to stay focused on my concept of what sustainability is for the future of architecture, rather than what society tells me sustainability should be, I framed my argument around the four elements: air, water, fire and earth. As I dove into developing a program and designing structure and landscape, I used these elements as a framework, my own baseline for what good, comfortable, and environmentally responsible architecture should be.