Last week interior designer Clodagh (like Cher and Madonna, there’s no last name required) concluded a presentation of her chic, contemporary bathroom designs with a heartfelt appeal for water conservation.  She showed images of happy, hydrated children around the world, and of a toilet/lavatory like this one, with a sink over the toilet tank that reuses handwashing water for flushing.  It seemed clever and obvious and, also, too weird to be true.  Will the skinny little faucet provide enough water to rinse your hands properly?  Will water splash up from the shallow basin onto the toilet seat?  And will it be awkward leaning over the toilet seat to brush your teeth?  While I see how this toilet would work well in small, retrofit powder rooms, I wouldn’t feel comfortable specifying it for a client.  There’s still, for me, a strangeness about seeing a toilet and a lavatory combined so seamlessly.

So many popular green construction strategies rely on advanced technologies like photovoltaic panels, wind turbines, and geothermal wells.  While the systems are energy-saving, and becoming more and more affordable, it’s simpler, low-tech solutions that might be the most powerful.  There are sun movement studies, exterior plantings, and super-insulating construction methods architects can use to help heat and cool rooms more economically.  This toilet/lavatory has a similar low-tech vibe, which might limit its appeal to style-conscious clients and designers.  How can manufacturers make these types of products, that are so important to green design, positively alluring?  And how can designers overcome their biases?

Last night at a SoHo showroom Kansas-based architect Dan Rockhill spoke about his work.  He has two professional lives, one at an eponymous firm and another with the non-profit Studio 804.  His role at Studio 804 is a lot like the late Samuel Mockbee’s at Rural Studio.  Each semester he leads University of Kansas architecture students to design and construct a local building.

Rockhill’s projects, which are driven by green issues and a concern for craft, have an understated sensibility.  He called it a “chicken coop mentality” because they follow the most basic assumptions about building orientation, layout and construction.  Yet each of Rockhill’s structures is elegant and modern-feeling, like a box for living.  That might be the hardest thing about green architecture, making it beautiful too.