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Family finds sun, wind and straw are a recipe for success

Originally published in the Globe and Mail on April 22, 2006

In a house with an entire wall of windows reaching up 17 feet, it's the little 12" by 14" one in the foyer that's most intriguing.

Appropriately called the "truth window," it offers a tantalising peek at the guts of Glen Hunter and Joanne Sokolowski's house, which they built themselves in 2002: A golden tangle of straw, held tight with red binder and hemmed in by black plastic chicken-wire.

The window is there for many reasons. It's a great conversation-piece for first time visitors who know nothing about straw-bale houses; it reminds the couple of days spent with family and friends stacking and stitching the 400 bales that form three walls of their open-concept 2500 square foot post-and-beam home southeast of Peterborough and, lastly; it's an important reminder that things aren't always what they seem.

For instance, you'd never know the Hunter-Sokolowski family live in a house that's completely self-sufficient, one of about 1000 in the province that don't rely on the power-grid for electricity.

"We strongly feel you shouldn't live in a place like this and have to do without," Mr. Hunter explains, standing beside an outlet sprouting cell-phone chargers in a kitchen filled with the usual appliances as if to illustrate his point. "We're not trying to go back to nature; this is a modern home, we have all the modern conveniences, the only major appliance we don't have is a clothes-dryer."

Like a lot of other things around here, clothes get dry via solar-power--swinging on the line outside in summer and strung across "the gallery" right in front of all those big southern-facing windows in winter.

Mr. Hunter loves his windows. Sure, they cost $55,000, but they offer breathtaking views of his 100 acres and, more importantly, let in great gobs of precious sunlight, which form the "passive" part of his heating system. Sometimes, his radiant concrete-slab floor has soaked up enough of the sun's rays during the daytime it doesn't even switch on at night.

While Mr. Hunter's convictions for moving off-grid are as big as his window-wall, humility keeps his preaching down to "truth window" size. "I try to stay away from moral arguments about why we did any of this stuff," he says. "We don't want to be the kind of people that say 'Thou shalt build in this way.'"

August 2003's infamous blackout wasn't what drove Mr. Hunter from Toronto's Riverdale to a life spent monitoring the energy input of solar panels and a wind-turbine; when the lights went out he and his wife had already been ensconced in the Kawarthas for three months. A self-proclaimed technophile, he'd always been interested in off-grid living and, armed with a lifetime of building experience with his father, home construction didn't faze him either. So, they hired an architect to get the ball rolling.

When they didn't get what they wanted, they fired the architect.

Then, the couple ran into another architect while dog-walking, neighbour Paul Dowsett, and asked for his recommendation. Although he'd never done an off-grid home before, Mr. Dowsett (of Scott Morris Architects) came back a few days later with a plan so stunning they hired him on the spot. "We are now the first of, I think three, off-grid environmentally-sensitive homes he's done," beams Mr. Hunter.

And what a home he's created for Hunter, Sokolowski, 18-month old Gil and the baby that's expected this autumn. Sitting in the bright and spacious living area under the soaring segmented roof held aloft by Paralam beams, Mr. Hunter, ironically sporting a Pickering Nuclear Generating Station work-shirt, talks choreography. For his home, that is. His office area will become a bedroom for Gil when the new baby takes over the nursery off the master bedroom--one, two--when the new baby needs a separate room, they'll borrow a little more square footage from the living area and subdivide Gil's room--three, four--the nursery, with plumbing already roughed-in, will then become a parental ensuite--five, six, seven, eight--in 20 years, when the kids have grown up, the walls will come down, again opening up the space that's "designed to hold a pool table," he chuckles. "We built a 100-year house, not a 20-year tract home."

Time Mr. Hunter will spend, no doubt, perfecting the amazing low-wattage LED light fixtures he's developed for the house (available at Eurolite), the inspiration for which came, like most great inventions, from a simple need: Driving home during pitch-black country nights, the couple needed to "find the house" by leaving a few lights on without sucking too much power from their energy storage-tank. They also wanted ambient lighting during late-night television sessions so they could get to the bathroom "without tripping over a dog or hitting a shin on something" so shaft and borealis were born.

Mr. Hunter is full of bright ideas. Now if the rest of us would just lighten up a little and slap a few solar panels on the roof, we'd really be opening a window onto a new world.

To read an online diary of the home's construction, visit www.glenhunter.ca

by Dave LeBlanc

"The Architourist."

The Eco-Deco house is done

Originally published in the Globe and Mail on July 8th, 2010

Architect Paul Dowsett and developer David Daniels have finished gutting Mr. Daniel's 1939 art deco mansion. The result is a masterpiece of green building.

When Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers whirled across the silver screen, it looked effortless: visual milk and honey. But it took an army to fabricate that Jazz Age cocktail, from costumers, makeup artists and lighting technicians to set designers, camera operators and, of course, the choreographer and director. And that's to say nothing of the foot-cramping rehearsals the famous dancing duo had to endure. Good thing they rolled credits.

In architecture, it's different. Often, only the client's and the architect's names are bandied about when discussing a project, which is a shame. As architect Paul Dowsett will tell you, projects the size and scope of David and Kate Daniels's "eco-deco" mansion in the Toronto neighbourhood of South Hill require the collective brainpower of dozens and dozens.

I'd list them all if I could. But that would mean I'd have no room for Act III, which completes the story of how this amazing 1935 buff-brick beauty, designed by architect Mackenzie Waters for major-general Donald M. Hogarth, has been restored and reimagined as a showcase of sustainable technology.

I first toured the 8,000-square-foot home in November, 2007. Even then, as I walked through empty rooms and noted little more than newly installed, double-glazed, low-emission windows with light shelves, the project was already over two years old, as preliminary sketches had been done in April, 2005.

In June, 2008, I checked the progress that Mr. Dowsett, then a principal at Scott Morris Architects, and project manager Nick Egizii had made. As usual, we marvelled at some of the home's original details, such as the domed foyer ceiling, the Gloria Swanson-esque sweeping staircase and the sprung-floor basement ballroom, while discussing in greater detail the green thinking and new technologies being showcased.

These included:

• Reuse and recycle where possible. Original steel windows will become interior closet doors; wood from the original interior sauna will clad the exterior pool house.
• High-albedo paint on the roof deflects the sun's rays; to supply hot water, an array of solar panels has been installed.
• In new additions such as the bump-out, glass-walled kitchen, floors from Granular Hardwood Technologies that look like terrazzo but consist of crushed walnut shells have been poured.
• A huge mechanical room underneath the kitchen - which Mr. Dowsett compares to the engine room of a "Nimitz-class submarine" - is where everything from backup boilers and solar-panel readouts to the geothermal system are stacked up in a "three-dimensional game of Tetris."

Now, while touring the final, furnished product, it's easy to forget all of that, and the cast of characters who put it together, as the eye is drawn to the exquisite collection of furniture, lighting and art, some of it a reflection of Mr. Daniels's sense of humour. There's the fake, backlit commercial sign by Vancouver's Ken Lum in a hallway; the glass case surrounding the living-room fireplace (Mr. Daniels, who has owned retail stores in the past, says this is called a "glorifier" in the business); custom millwork in the kitchen has cut-out pulls inspired "by looking at Paul Klee and Kandinsky"; and, finally, the egg-shaped bathtub in the master en suite is a touch of sculptural whimsy.

Just as a Jazz Age skyscraper economically concentrates architectural detailing on the first few floors and then again at its crown (why waste it on the middle part that no one sees?), baseboards and trim are dressed in deco details only where the eye rests.

Outside, near the pool, two hedges are cut into a question mark and an exclamation point, which Mr. Daniels suggests is a sort of personal motto: "For me, that's how you have to look at life - all of life should be questions and surprises."

Now that the question of whether this already impressive home could be transformed into a showcase of sustainability as the eco-deco mansion has been answered, it's time for surprises. One came just a few months after the family moved in, when the gas company called to say there must be a faulty meter at the house since it was showing zero activity. Mr. Daniels had to explain, gently, that he had switched to a geothermal system. Another is how low-tech "green" features are performing beyond expectations - for example, the light shelves bring so much light into the home so late into the day that turning on artificial lights is delayed significantly. "This is largely an exercise in light," Mr. Daniels says of the project.

It is also, as stated earlier, an exercise in collaboration: "At the first meeting, I said, 'I want to see your Grade 4 report card because I want to see if the teacher checked off 'Plays Well With Others,' " Mr. Dowsett laughs.

And while Mr. Daniels and Mr. Dowsett probably have more in common with Bing Crosby and Bob Hope than with Astaire and Rogers, they are indeed entering into a partnership as a result of the success of the project. Sustainable.TO will be a "one-stop shop for all things sustainable" offering consultation, design and construction for places as large as the eco-deco mansion or as small as a modest suburban bungalow.

The End. Or is it just the beginning?

The making of an Eco-deco mansion

Originally published in the Globe and Mail on Nov 30th, 2007

Standing beside the newly-poured concrete lap pool with my back to the spreading city parceled in grids below, I don't need to squint at David Daniels' new home to see it: clearly, it is a mini-Maple Leaf Gardens.

Built on a promontory in the neighbourhood now known as South Hill for Major General Donald M. Hogarth, an MPP who later became a mining magnate, the 8,000 square foot house was designed by Toronto-based architect Mackenzie Waters in 1935. Four years before, Mr. Waters had worked as associate architect with Montreal firm Ross & Macdonald on the much beloved hockey shrine, and it's obvious that he took something away from that experience. Pointing to the restrained rhythmic façade and buff brick banding that smacks of its cousin on Carlton St., Mr. Daniels remarks: "I call this whole project 'The Echo of Deco.'"

"Is that 'echo' with an 'h'?" asks architect Paul Dowsett cheekily, referring to the extensive list of eco-friendly and sustainable technologies his firm, Scott Morris Architects, is incorporating into the renovation and expansion of this historic mansion.

There is a duality to the project. Firstly, Mr. Daniels's team--which in addition to Mr. Dowsett includes project manager Nick Egizii, landscape architect Ron Holbrook, interior designer Phillip Moody and Simon Boone of Generation Solar--will be restoring as many of the home's art deco features as possible, such as the domed foyer ceiling, the sweeping terrazzo staircase and the amazing sprung-floor ballroom in the basement. "I'm fanatically devoted to Toronto and to preserving what we can of the housing stock," explains Mr. Daniels, a self-confessed heritage lover. Reconsidering, he corrects himself: "Preserving is not the right word because this is not a preservation, this is a re-imagining of something but trying to respect as much of what the original building has to offer." Since the home's deco features seem to stop somewhere past the foyer (perhaps due to a case of original owner cold feet), Mr. Daniels is "re-imagining" what might have been and installing deco trim, moulding and other finishes throughout.

Secondly, as many sustainable features as eco-expert Mr. Dowsett can dream up are being incorporated into the home, which currently sits stripped down to the studs on the inside and, on the outside, is shamelessly flashing its raw steel skeleton at the next-door neighbours to the east. As we walk the perimeter on a sunny November Sunday, most obvious are the new double-glazed, low-E aluminum windows with their accompanying sunshades, designed to prevent overheating interiors in summer yet allow the low-flying winter sun to penetrate unimpeded. On the inside, "light shelves" will reflect sunlight onto the ceiling, says Mr. Dowsett, "so that we'll be penetrating natural daylight as far into the house as possible, reducing the need to turn on electric lights." Mr. Daniels adds: "What I like about this [technology] is that it's completely low-tech--it's just a matter of doing your calculations."

Rather than sending the old, inefficient single-pane windows to landfill, they'll soon enjoy a new life as interior design elements in the form of cabinet or closet doors. "If we can recycle it...we'll reuse it on this site, if we can reuse it on a neighbours property, we'll do that," explains Mr. Dowsett, pointing to the pool house, which is being framed with wood salvaged from the demolition of the original third floor.

And speaking of the third floor, where there was once an inset, mansard-roofed servant's quarters there now sits a sparkling new Miesian triple-glazed box which will eventually be surrounded by the second floor green roof. The third floor has a "high albedo" roof: highly reflective white paint deflects sunlight and reduces the need for cooling in summer. On top of the porte-cochere, another original structure, a potter's shed, has been removed and will eventually be replaced by a similar glass box connected by a bridge; the aforementioned east addition will soon be ready for its glass enclosure. Like the aluminum windows, these additions are meant to stand in stark contrast to the original dwelling in an effort to distinguish what's old from what's new.

There are plenty of new things that can't be seen with the naked eye. Interesting is the use of concrete that uses fifty per cent less cement by replacing it with industrial waste-products fly ash and slag (this is good because for each measure of regular cement replaced with a supplementary bonding material, that same measure is saved in CO2 emissions) and, where new flooring is being installed (much of the home's original wood floors are being preserved), a new, locally produced product by Granular Hardwood Technologies simulating the look of terrazzo using waste walnut shells as the aggregate, is being employed. "It was one of the neatest products that turned up in our research," offers Mr. Daniels.

As we walk from bare room to bare room stepping over construction equipment or manoeuvring around his yet-to-be installed heat pumps, I ask Mr. Daniels why the commitment to "green" technologies. He answers, simply, that it's something he's "carried around for a very long time.

"I tried to do it twice before and it was completely unaffordable and the technology was so rudimentary I just couldn't get there." Third time's a charm, and with geothermal heating, rainwater collection and solar initiatives, he's getting there big time.

He's also going out of his way to save a significant piece of Toronto's architectural heritage. Perhaps that's because he grew up surrounded by a love of architecture; his father, John Daniels, Chairman of the Daniels Corporation, is a legendary figure who is responsible for much of what is good, architecturally, about this city. "Any sensibility I have about this stuff came from my family," he confirms.

Combining restoration, cutting-edge environmental and an amazing collaboration between architect and client (Mr. Dowsett is an avowed art deco fan and has been boning up on his viewings of 1930s movies for inspiration), this is such an exciting project I've asked Mr. Daniels if I can return a few more times to see the progress and, thankfully, he's agreed.

"I can't wait to see it when it's done," I tell him.

"You're not the only one," he finishes with a laugh.

Back at the Eco Deco Mansion

Originally published in the Globe and Mail on June 27th, 2009

The thing about massive renovation projects is that they always look their worst just before they start to look better.

With that in mind, I visited for the second time the future home of David Daniels--once the home of Major General Donald M. Hogarth--after first reporting on the project in November 2007. Designed by Toronto architect Mackenzie Waters in 1935, the 8,000 square foot, sturdy art deco brick box is slowly, methodically being brought into the twenty-first century--spatially, sustainably and otherwise--by architect and green-expert Paul Dowsett of Scott Morris Architects.

Punctuated by the squeal of power saws, our tour began just outside the home's formal front door, where deliveries were occurring so frequently a turnstile might be more appropriate. Here, in the wall of the porte-cochere, a large, original metal window has been installed for decorative purposes rather than being sent to landfill; surrounding brick has been salvaged from other areas of the house and the colour and texture of the new mortar has been painstakingly matched.

On the porte-cochere's roof, where once there stood a dilapidated old potter's shed, a modern, glassy guesthouse now sits, which connects to the main house by an equally modern umbilical cord of a bridge. "It was one of the first conceits when we first started talking about the house," says Mr. Daniels about the bridge idea, "and it's actually come true, out of all the crazy ideas that I've had throughout the last few years, and I think it's better than I imagined it."

In a way, the porte-cochere can be seen as a microcosm of the entire project: Old parts have been salvaged and repurposed; efforts have been made to duplicate original work; and there is the marriage of old and new architecture.

In the backyard, stacks and stacks of cedar from a demolished sauna await new life as partition walls in the pool house. Underfoot is a rich, creamy "Algonquin stone" from Owen Sound--"as local as we could get," chuckles the architect--that will spill out into the rest of the yard; above our heads is the new, pre-patina'd copper flashing with a folded "three-part detail" to echo the banded (and very deco) lines of the brickwork.

Despite the construction storm before the calm, there is much to see inside the house. Mr. Dowsett is conducting tests of art deco moulding styles for the ceiling, because, as he puts it, "in drawing you can only do so much." The jury is still out on whether these will feature curves, hard angles or a combination of both.

The entire "east wing" addition has now been clad in the high-tech, triple-glazed pale green curtain wall that adorns the other modern additions (in my first report this wing was just a skeleton), and it is here that I got my first glimpse of the much-ballyhooed walnut shell flooring by Granular Hardwood Technologies, which simulates the look of expensive terrazzo by using waste walnut shell pieces as the aggregate after they've been used to clean jet engines. Here, too, in what will become a chef's delight of a kitchen is another interesting feature: a remotely activated, large sliding glass door--not unlike the kind at the local grocery store--that Mr. Daniels predicts will become the home's principal entrance. "I think your family is going to live in this room," confirms Mr. Dowsett. "This is the view, it's just stunning"

Not only is the view stunning, so is the performance. The curtain wall system has proven so effective an insulator, an earlier plan to install solar blinds has been scrapped. "Some of this stuff actually works," laughs Mr. Daniels. "As a consumer, you're inundated with it every day now; every day you turn on the TV, you pick up a newspaper or magazine and all you hear about is this green material, that green material, and thank god some of it works!"

Upstairs, awaiting refinishing are original hardwood floors that have been 'patched' with pieces from other areas. Cuts to this three-quarter-century-old wood were done so precisely, says project manager Nick Egizii, the flooring contractors said it was "easier working with this than working with new wood." Reflective "high albedo" paint isn't the only thing covering the roof this time. Lined up like a giant's fallen dominos are massive solar panels that will supply the home with its entire hot water supply. Not only that, says Mr. Dowsett, they do "double-duty" by helping to shade the roof. Popping up here and there are electrical "goosenecks" that will eventually connect to solar-electric panels: "At one point in time, we imagine that it will be cost effective to install solar-electric," says Mr. Daniels.

Until then, green pioneer Mr. Daniels is having a blast doing nightly research into sustainable technologies with a low-cost/high-benefit ratio, and Mr. Dowsett and Mr. Egizii are busily making it all happen.

And I, your humble Architourist (who can see past the mess) will bring you the finished project sometime in late 2008 or early 2009. "We're as on schedule as you can be in a renovation," finishes Mr. Daniels.