As I was reviewing a book about contemporary micro-houses (Rock the Shack: Cabins, Cocoons and Hide-Outs) I realized that our homes are no longer refuges, retreats from work and society. Instead our houses and apartments are highly sophisticated instruments: exquisitely furnished, mechanically conditioned, audio-visually equipped, pulsating with streams of electronic data. They shape vibrant micro-environments that allow us to keep working, consuming and communicating when we’re supposed to be resting. Country houses aren’t much different, just finished with a slightly lower level of complexity.
As the book suggests, we might want to run away and live in a “shack,” a primitive hut, the kind of small building that hearkens back to the first manmade structures. Their architecture is primarily about shelter from the elements, and does little to serve identity, status and place-making. These are structures that stand lightly, that barely disturb the ground, that can be simply dismantled and replaced, that can be washed away by rains or blown to bits by a storm. When left inside a building like this with nothing to do, what would we do? What dreams and stories would we find?
Bridge Studio, Saunders Architecture, Newfoundland, Canada. Photography: Bent Rene Synnevag.