Architecture One Hundred Years From Now

At a book signing recently, a young man asked, in regard to the village historic districts, “How do you think these new modern houses in Southampton will be viewed a hundred years from now?” He followed up on his compelling question by commenting on the fact that people become very upset when historic houses, familiar to everyone in the community, face the threat of demolition. When the house is actually demolished and plans for a modern replacement are revealed the sadness within the community is almost palpable. The refrain of “How could they possibly put a modern house in this historic district?” is often coupled with “It just doesn’t belong here.”Some readers may be surprised to learn, for example, that the Eiffel Tower, completed in 1889 as a temporary structure for the Paris World’s Fair to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the French Revolution, was reviled by many artists and intellectuals at the time of construction. This group, led by writers Guy de Maupassant, Alexandre Dumas, and Paris Opera House architect Charles Garnier, submitted a complaint against engineer Gustave Eiffel’s proposed plan for the tower, referring to it as a disgraceful skeleton and “a gigantic factory chimney whose form will disfigure the architectural harmony of the city.” De Maupassant despised the tower so much he often dined in the restaurant at its base since it was the only place in the city where he didn’t have to look at it. One hundred years later, however, the Eiffel Tower remains one of the most iconic structures ever built on this planet.

In Southampton Village’s historic districts the real question is whether or not the sum of the parts will continue to form the greater whole. The Architectural Design Guidelines for Historic Districts and Landmarks used by the Board of Architectural Review in Southampton Village promote principles of historic design, which include scale, proportion, rhythm, siting, balance, massing and materials. The guidelines reference the Secretary of Interior’s Standards for Rehabilitation (an advisory but not regulatory credo), and also quote the National Trust for Historic Preservation’s booklet, “Reviewing New Construction Projects in Historic Districts,” stating that, “Design guidelines for an historic area should not dictate certain styles for new buildings. ... Most districts exhibit an evolution of architectural styles and cultural trends, including the 20th century. Therefore, guidelines that emphasize context and design elements, rather than styles, allow the broadest and most flexible interpretation for new construction.”

The new modern houses being built on Meadow and Gin lanes vary significantly from one another. Calvin Klein’s sleek new house replaced the former Trupin residence, aka Dragon’s Head, which was dubbed the “height of hideosity” by Newsday after it morphed in the early 1980s into a controversial and illegal renovation with the addition of 20,000 square feet to the original 35,000-square-foot, colonial revival house designed in 1925 by architects Cross and Cross for Henry Francis du Pont and his wife, Ruth.

When the community heard that Mr. Klein was not only tearing down a residence many considered revolting, but also dramatically downsizing his new house in the Beach Lane Historic District, there was little opposition to his project.

Farther east on Meadow Lane, the modern Raynes residence, barely 18 years old and designed by architect Norman Jaffe, met the wrecker’s ball in 2003 and has since been replaced by the ubër-modern Sugarman residence designed by Sawyer/Berson.

At 450 Gin Lane, the former site of Dr. T. Gaillard Thomas’s Sandhurst (1882), architect Blaze Makoid has proposed a modern house that is taking its cues from the context of the surrounding, historic structures. It is neither taller nor shorter than any of its neighbors.

In this instance, the structure is relating to the context within the context. The property just west of the proposed house, Halcyon Lodge (1893), possesses a 1951 Philip Johnson addition on its eastern façade that connects to the existing house by means of a glazing separation. Mr. Makoid’s design plays off the Johnson addition, in terms of scale, siting, massing and form. It even has a transparent glazed section between two wings of the house, one of which runs parallel to the street while the other runs perpendicular to it. In short, this particular house will play nicely with its older neighbors.

Modern houses, done well, can relate to historic surroundings. The new modernism we’re looking at today is not based on the canonical modernism of the earlier era—born out of manifestos whose underlying premise rejected all that had come before in the history of architecture as well as rejecting the notion that buildings have an emotional effect on us. Much of what is being designed today concerns itself with formalism and dovetails with the display of wealth. Yet the best of the new modern houses are trying to advance the state of the art with new technologies that address environmental and energy issues and consequently challenge the way we think about form. As an expression of optimism, based on a rationale of “doing good,” they reflect hope for a better future.

William Lethaby in his 1891 book, “Architecture, Mysticism and Myth,” wrote, “Old architecture lived because it had a purpose. Modern architecture, to be real, must not be a mere envelope without contents. ... If we would have architecture excite an interest, real and general, we must have a symbolism, immediately comprehensible by the great majority of spectators.”

The public tends to look at historic houses as a form of public art. These buildings belong to us in a sense because they represent continuity in our lives and define our pact with the cultural construct while sometimes celebrating beauty in built form. A hundred years from now, old modernist homes will be torn down for all the same reasons used to justify today’s demolitions. Nonetheless, so long as context and form can be maintained harmoniously in historic districts, the sum of the parts will remain whole.

Anne Surchin is an East End architect and co-author with Gary Lawrance of “Houses of the Hamptons 1880-1930.”