A Thumbprint on Nicole's Forehead

To track down the pioneers of simplicity, go past 221b Baker Street and into the Knoll showroom. The architects Mies van der Rohe, Eero Saarinen, Le Corbusier and the Bauhaus boys place their slender fingers on every inch of design. Like the best of those cosmopolitan mobs, the men effortlessly leave no signs of struggle. What seems like an elementary idea was really a careful dissection of the mid-century. Take away the arms and legs. Leave it open. Strip it to style.

Last Monday, I visited a modernist showroom and, Knoll and behold, the evidence of invention still exists today. Needless to say I remain impressed. In both furniture and buildings, the men peeled layers to the bones claiming that people do not need more extremities to live comfortably. It's the biology of sociology. Now I'm just rhyming.

Translating it all to affordable, sustainable design is a different story - a different parable altogether. Looking at others' residences and the desert are helpful ways of drawing from and for the environment. I recently visited 3 houses that take their own tacks on the matter. First was Stu's, a retired NYU professor whose reasonable preference of New York over Arizona reflected in his living area. Rooms were close together, but not uncomfortable. The bathroom was appealing; the solarium not so much. Lessons were learned. Second was Cindy's, the buyer of a custom designed house for Mormons who then tailored it for herself and her husband. By knocking down walls and introducing glass (and overall fanciness), they created a more luxurious space for themselves. Third was my advisor James Abell's, who purposely left the house exterior unadorned then put an 18-foot tall living room inside and 3 courtyards around the home. There is also more natural lighting than the others and a lovely draft for cross-ventilation. After the neighborhood tour, I have better ideas of integrating space. Huzzah, back to the drawing board.

Lastly, I visited Arid Zone Trees, a wholesale desert plant nursery in Queen near Mesa. They have a large array of mesquites, agaves, mexican fence posts, palo verdes, cacti and more, and the nursery is constantly crossbreeding and selling new species. Growers especially favor naturally occurring thornless species. Besides a fresh appreciation for our sandy flora, I came away with notions on hardscape and outdoor spaces, designed by the family. There were low walls calculated for human seating and concrete blocks imprinted with leaf patterns. The entrance to the office also had a sidewalk that subtly narrowed towards the door and a winding fence that looked like halves of terra cotta pots. Landscaping for offices and residences is overlooked, but when done well, it can be a sound release.

At least that's what my books and senses say. Here's to the organic spin.