Similar treatment. Totally different plan.

I recently came across this Toronto Star story about two couples in Canada who were involved in a lawsuit regarding the appearance of their houses. Apparently the owners of a 1935-era Tudor Revival home—which they had spent a lot of money to renovate in 2006—had many of its features “copied” by owners of a newly-built neighboring house nearby. The owners of the older home sued the couple who built the new house for $1.5 million in damages, including $20,000 in copyright damages and $1 million in punitive damages.
The owners of the existing home claimed that the neighbors copied a number of features from their home, including similar gray stonework, the same shade of blue on the windows, similar treatments in the gables and other unique design cues that made their house “one of the most well-known and admired houses in the neighborhood” - according to the lawsuit.

LEFT: Couldn't spring for a proper chimney pot, eh?

Of course, I am aware that house designs and plans can be copyrighted, although it is seldom an issue for the courts; it’s not easy to prove infringement, since even the average builder would not normally think to copy a plan in such careful and exact detail to leave no doubt as to its origin.

In this case, the plans of the houses are totally different—only some of the architectural details were copied, and I don’t think using a particular stone type or paint color constitutes a violation of copyright. If you look at some of the side-by-side photos in the article, you’ll see some clear similarities, but you’ll also see clear differences as well.

Both couples claimed to have been inspired by Tudor architecture, and that is clear, though the results vary in their quality. A stepped stone or brick chimney is a common Tudor feature—you can’t copyright it.  Arched doorways and stone construction are not uncommon either. The owners of the older home claim that the copycat house “devalued” their own, but I don’t buy it.

Shape is all these two have in common.

When we built our house, I was the first in the neighborhood to use “scalloped” shingle-style siding over a prominent portion of our house. Shortly thereafter, another house built around the corner included that feature over its center gable, as did another home several doors down the street that was remodeled a few years ago. Did they copy what we did? I don’t know—but even if they did, I would take it as a compliment. I think that would have been a more mature and appropriate response here.

As for the builders of the new house, I really can’t imagine why anyone with a brain would slavishly copy features of a nearby house like paint color, adding weatherboarding to a gable, etc. without looking at other options. If you’re a Tudor-lover, there are too many sources of inspiration out there to have to resort to something so craven. Seems like a lack of imagination. Or just laziness.

When talking or writing about Tudor Revival homes here in The States, it’s clear that in terms of quality, they clearly run the gamut—from beautiful and authentic-looking examples like Akron’s Stan Hywet Hall, to decent-looking suburban homes, to less-convincing modern interpretations—and then to what can only be considered abominations, like a Tudor ranch or split-level. Whatever type you might happen to encounter, it’s best to always be ready for a surprise.

Sometimes it's all in the details...

So it was on a recent winter Sunday. There being no football (it was the week before the Super Bowl) the wife asked if I would go with her to look at some very large “open houses” for sale on the other side of town. Once in a great while, we do this for pure entertainment—or what I like to call “shits & giggles”—to see what is out there on the market and perhaps collect ideas for our own home.

All of the homes we visited were significantly larger than our present home, and about three times as costly. None were really practical for us, since investing in a far larger house at a time when most couples are getting ready to downsize for retirement doesn’t make sense. Nevertheless, we got in the car and headed out.

Only two of the homes we visited were really worthy of note; both were Tudor Revivals, and both had both good and not-so-good elements that caught my eye. They were built almost 20 years apart (1971 and 1988) and both had some interesting stories to tell.

Not a bad looking house at all - considering it's a relatively recent effort. Almost there.

The first of these houses I remembered quite well, having seen it well before I built my own house in 1992. The exterior is in excellent shape after almost 30 years, and I must say that in terms of overall design and massing, it is one of the better Tudor Revival-style homes I have seen built in recent times. The roof pitches are fine, the half-timbering work is reasonably robust—not thin and chintzy like so many other recent examples—the plan is angled and irregular, and the stone and brickwork is competently done. Parts of the second floor are even jettied-out over the ground floor, which is also nice to see.

It is not perfect. The house could stand some more detail in the timberwork. The windows are a little too tall, and feature a combination of both square and the cliché diamond-pattern grilles that are always too large and out of scale. Worst of all, they are all white, when they should be the same dark brown as the timber. The overhanging jetties also lack any corbels at the ends or other supporting structure, which gives them a stark and unfinished character.

Overall, the exterior provides an example of a fine, custom-built house (I would assume the work of an architect) that could have greatly benefitted from a little more care and research. I think a lot of American designers use houses built in the 1920’s and 30’s as traditional design guides, instead of resourcing original English examples or even old pattern and style books, like Garner & Stratton’s Domestic Architecture of England during the Tudor Period. The result is often a loss of detail and in less adept hands, some clumsy or incomplete results. The good thing about the exterior of this home is that it could be easily remedied with a few additional elements.

The door is nice. Not a fan of the parquet. The stair rail belongs in a colonial house.

As solid as the exterior was, the interior featured little if any historic detail. There was plenty of brown oak, yes, and a nice arched front door—but inside I found the traditional-style woodwork you’d see in any nice home; a spindly staircase with thin balusters and a curled volute newel detail at the bottom and the ubiquitous six-panel colonial doors. Where one might have employed a Tudor arch, or even a curved arch over a wide doorway, the builder had substituted rather crude-looking openings with the upper corners cut and cased at a 45-degree angle. The home’s fireplaces were either stone or brick, but were utterly plain and ordinary, and could have been found in almost any home. There were some nice built-ins and storage, but nothing extraordinary, though the master bath did have some very fine English-style cabinetry. One interesting feature was the slim doorway/balcony in the master bedroom that overlooked the two-story great room—a historical nod to the “squint” or “chaperone” window found in many ancient Tudor homes.

The way the cased opening here is handled leaves a lot to be desired.

All in all, for about $650k it was still a very nice house on a large and attractive treed lot, but one that deserved a little more attention in terms of detail. I was thinking another $50k of proper detailing and upgrades could bring it into line.

I found the other Tudor Revival home on our tour to be a great curiosity. My first impression was that someone had taken a rather straightforward two-story colonial home and tacked a brick Tudor-style entry porch onto the façade. I see this feature on a fair amount of Tudor Revival houses, both new and old—when the entry roof pitch is too steep, it borders on the cartoonish. This one was a pretty close call. The front was extended a little to the right, ending in a long side-entry garage featuring a second story with shed dormers. The windows were too large for the style. From the street, it did not appear to be such a happy composition.

One of the only houses I've seen that looks better up close than at a distance.

Going up the driveway and standing up close, however, I found the overall effect to be far more pleasing. Closer inspection revealed that the ground floor was clad in fine, old-style brick all around—the same as on the high-peaked entry front. The upper story was covered in rough clapboards, but the edges were cut in a wavy, irregular style and finished in a very dark, almost black stain. The stonework around the entrance was very fine as well, and the doorway was flanked by some very large, black iron torchieres that looked like they were a hundred years old. Clearly, whoever selected the materials knew what they were doing, because the resulting combination of colors and textures felt very natural and appropriate.

Remember, this was a 1970’s house. I didn’t expect much from the interior other than harvest gold Formica and tired, avocado carpet. I was right on that count, and the furniture still in the house was from the same era. It was almost like a time machine.



The plaster fireplace surround and crown molding was superb - and terrifically Tudor!

But here again, there were many surprises. There were beautiful, authentic plaster details found throughout the house, and best of all, they were actual Tudor designs, including a splendid mantel, excellent cornice and crown moldings, ceiling medallions—each one looked like it had been picked out of a 1920’s catalogue. The doors were solid wood, and were of the appropriate 8-panel Tudor-style. Some of the rooms featured coffered ceilings or peaked ceilings with beams, and a couple of the bedrooms combined that with walls paneled in wide, hardwood boards. I had mixed feelings about the foyer stairway, it was broad and curving—and open to the basement level as well as above. Rather than wood, the stair had a curved iron railing, which would probably look much better if refinished in black rather than its current funky 70’s gold. Removing the carpet on the stairs would help too, I am sure. Then again—there was carpet just about everywhere; being a 70’s house, I wondered if there was hardwood underneath any of it.

Peaked ceiling...and paneled with real hardwood boards...not the cheap stuff you'd expect.

The kitchen and bathrooms all needed to be re-done. The fixtures and cabinetry, while clean and in very good shape, were old and outdated. The house even had an elevator, and the Realtor whispered to us that there was a secret staircase that went from the owner’s suit up to the attic and down to the basement. A secret staircase! How Totally Tudor of them.

Exterior aside, I left that house being quite impressed by the attention to detail and high standards of the original builder and owner. Though the exterior elevation left something to be desired, some of the interior details were totally unexpected. I can’t imagine many of the architectural products were commonly available when the house was built—as Tudor homes were seriously out of style in 1970. They must not have been that easy to source. Even today, with the help of the internet and its worldwide reach, it’s not always so easy, as I have noted previously.

Now if you combined the exterior design of the first house with the attention to detail of the second house, you'd really have something.

As I said, always prepare to be surprised.

Years ago, when I first dreamed of building a house of my own, I often dropped into newsstands and book stores to pick up copies of magazines like Country Life, British Home & Garden, Period Home, BBC Homes & Antiques and many others, seeking inspiration. I knew I would never have the means to build what I really wanted, but I hoped that by reading, training my eye and getting a “feel” for what was appropriate, I could come fairly close to envisioning my dream.

Over the years, I have amassed quite a library of books on English architecture and traditional home design. I also managed to horde a lot of those old magazines, which are still well-preserved in my basement.
I’m glad I kept them. Now let me explain.

One of the delights of the Internet Age (yet sadly for magazine publishers) is that there is so much information and visual inspiration available for homeowners to freely access. I find myself constantly referencing ideas and resources from home improvement and interior design sites and blogs, as well as design and furnishing websites like Houzz.

…Which brings me to my current “pet peeve.”

I’ve looked at and saved a lot of photos while browsing on Houzz – mostly traditional interiors, but especially kitchens, home office and basement remodels – which cover some of the projects I have been involved with of late. As expected, it’s not always easy to find an interior that doesn’t feature the white-painted woodwork that is featured on almost every home improvement TV show today. But as bad as the situation might be on www.houzz.com, it’s even worse on www.houzz.co.uk – where almost every single photo in my feed is WHITE. White woodwork. White walls. White cabinets. White fixtures. White tiles. White furniture. White rooms, period. White-white-white-white white. It’s worse than the Academy Awards.

I even posted somewhat sarcastic question on the UK site forum, asking if there had been a ban imposed on using colors other than white. Interestingly enough, one reply blamed the Americans for this; I suppose they could be right.

I get it. If your flat was looking dingy and dull, and you wanted to indulge your dreams of summers in Ibiza, I am fully in sympathy.

My own house probably needs at least one room with white walls - though I am determined that my woodwork will never see paint.

But this ridiculous infatuation with all that is WHITE—or the practical exclusion of anything that is not—is both mystifying and disheartening.

Which is precisely why I am relieved that I can still retrieve those old magazines from the basement and starting looking again for some inspiration. After 20 years or more, I’m sure the pendulum will swing back the other way to once again embrace bold colors, high detail and rich wood tones.

Not so sure about that flowered chintz, though…

Years ago, when I first dreamed of building a house of my own, I often dropped into newsstands and book stores to pick up copies of magazines like Country Life, British Home & Garden, Period Home, BBC Homes & Antiques and many others, seeking inspiration. I knew I would never have the means to build what I really wanted, but I hoped that by reading, training my eye and getting a “feel” for what was appropriate, I could come fairly close to envisioning my dream.

Over the years, I have amassed quite a library of books on English architecture and traditional home design. I also managed to horde a lot of those old magazines, which are still well-preserved in my basement.

I’m glad I kept them. Now let me explain.

One of the delights of the Internet Age (yet sadly for magazine publishers) is that there is so much information and visual inspiration available for homeowners to freely access. I find myself constantly referencing ideas and resources from home improvement and interior design sites and blogs, as well as design and furnishing websites like Houzz.

…Which brings me to my current “pet peeve.”

I’ve looked at and saved a lot of photos while browsing on Houzz – mostly traditional interiors, but especially kitchens, home office and basement remodels – which cover some of the projects I have been involved with of late. As expected, it’s not always easy to find an interior that doesn’t feature the white-painted woodwork that is featured on almost every home improvement TV show today. But as bad as the situation might be on www.houzz.com, it’s even worse on www.houzz.co.uk – where almost every single photo in my feed is WHITE. White woodwork. White walls. White cabinets. White fixtures. White tiles. White furniture. White rooms, period. White-white-white-white white. It’s worse than the Academy Awards.

I even posted somewhat sarcastic question on the UK site forum, asking if there had been a ban imposed on using colors other than white. Interestingly enough, one reply blamed the Americans for this; I suppose they could be right.

I get it. If your flat was looking dingy and dull, and you wanted to indulge your dreams of summers in Ibiza, I am fully in sympathy.

My own house probably needs at least one room with white walls - though I am determined that my woodwork will never see paint.

But this ridiculous infatuation with all that is WHITE—or the practical exclusion of anything that is not—is both mystifying and disheartening.

Which is precisely why I am relieved that I can still retrieve those old magazines from the basement and starting looking again for some inspiration. After 20 years or more, I’m sure the pendulum will swing back the other way to once again embrace bold colors, high detail and rich wood tones.

Not so sure about that flowered chintz, though…

While we’ve always been focused on a specific area of architecture and design, there can be no doubt that preservation of historic buildings—as both a principle and a cultural and economic benefit—is something that deserves attention. Having reviewed how economic, social and geographic forces have had an impact on the architectural landscape of my own city in a recent Medium post, I wanted to share not only that story but also a recent conversation on the subject I had on local radio.

That Medium essay, LITTLE BIG TOWN: How Akron’s Unique History Has Impacted its Architecture – got a fair share of reads. The essay goes into some detail on how several consecutive waves of economic development have impacted Akron’s built environment, resulting in a situation where very few buildings from the canal-era or late 19th-century still exist. It also outlined the successes and failures of 20th century development, including downtown urban renewal, mid-century highway construction, and the failure of city government to embrace historic preservation within city neighborhoods.

The article made enough impact that I was invited to discuss the subject on one of the local radio stations, WAKR-AM. The entire segment, from the Jason Sokol Show, can be heard HERE.

While we’ve always been focused on a specific area of architecture and design, there can be no doubt that preservation of historic buildings—as both a principle and a cultural and economic benefit—is something that deserves attention. Having reviewed how economic, social and geographic forces have had an impact on the architectural landscape of my own city in a recent Medium post, I wanted to share not only that story but also a recent conversation on the subject I had on local radio.


That Medium essay, LITTLE BIG TOWN: How Akron’s Unique History Has Impacted its Architecture – got a fair share of reads. The essay goes into some detail on how several consecutive waves of economic development have impacted Akron’s built environment, resulting in a situation where very few buildings from the canal-era or late 19th-century still exist. It also outlined the successes and failures of 20th century development, including downtown urban renewal, mid-century highway construction, and the failure of city government to embrace historic preservation within city neighborhoods.


The article made enough impact that I was invited to discuss the subject on one of the local radio stations, WAKR-AM. The entire segment, from the Jason Sokol Show, can be heard HERE.

ST. PAULS SUNDAY SCHOOL & PARISH HOUSE - BUILT 1880'S.

Back in 1986, I was sitting in the kitchen of Elsie Snyder, a local preservationist, along with a few other people, wondering what we could do to avoid the demolition of an old historic apartment building near Akron’s Grace Park. Those gatherings, and that initial effort—which ultimately proved to be unsuccessful—led to the founding of a local group called Progress Through Preservation, (now known as the Preservation Alliance of Greater Akron) which still operates today. I bring this up for two reasons. One – more of our local historic structures are seriously threatened with demolition. And Two – I am wondering if anyone in Akron will make a concerted effort to stop it.

The buildings in question are two of Akron’s most historic, and have been listed on the National Register of Historic Places for many years. They include the former St. Paul’s Episcopal Church and adjacent Sunday School Building and Parish House, located at East Market and Forge Streets. These remarkable gothic structures are among the few remaining links to 19th Century Akron, and the Sunday School is one of the better preserved examples of the historic “Akron Plan” that was developed by Lewis Miller and utilized in hundreds of church buildings across the nation up until WWI. They are attractive, generally well-preserved structures, dating from the 1880’s – 1890’s.
I believe the plan is to raze them to help create some sort of “grand entrance” to the University of Akron from East Market Street; I suppose to complement a similar plan they have for a southern entrance off East Exchange Street. Needless to say, the plan—and the building’s demolition—is unnecessary and short-sighted, and wholly representative of the school’s new administration, which has alienated itself from the greater community through a number of recent missteps such as this.


I may resolve to join yet, but I may wait to see what, if anything, the group will do to help stop the demolition of these historic buildings. The fact is, there is so little left of Akron from the pre-Rubber Boom era that we should be making a special effort to preserve buildings like these. Aside from a few church buildings, the only other structures left from this era are the Robinson Mansion at Buchtel Avenue (currently for sale) and an old funeral home. This stretch of East Market used to be lined with large mansions, much like Cleveland’s old Euclid Avenue—another victim of “progress.”



ST. PAUL'S EPISCOPAL - ORIGINAL SANCTUARY

I don’t know if this is true in many other places—somehow, I suspect it is—but it seems that some preservation organizations that were active, militant and vocal about preservation during the years when they were established have devolved into “historic architecture social clubs”. These groups plan neighborhood tours, handout preservation awards and maybe talk about appreciating old houses, but no longer take an active role in promoting, planning and fighting for historic preservation.

Years ago, the founders of these organizations would criticize historic groups who only looked at preservation through the concept of “historic house/building museums” – an approach based on taking a few of the very best old buildings, and preserving them in a glass case for future generations to enjoy. Thirty years ago, “real” preservationists knew that approach alone was not sufficient; they knew that preservation also meant saving neighborhoods, promoting adaptive re-use, promoting education, demanding government support, and weaving preservation into the fabric of our cities.

Just this last summer, the local preservation group I’ve mentioned held a Fir Hill neighborhood tour right where these buildings are currently under threat. I wonder what they were looking at. On that street alone, two of the large houses, an 1870’s era Alumni Center and a large 1890’s era mansion (most recently a fraternity house) had been demolished over the last couple of years, leaving just a handful of buildings on the street. If this pattern continues, there won’t be much to see there in coming years.

Distant tours of Detroit—which have also been on the group’s itinerary—will only have value if lessons learned in those cities are brought back to Akron and put into action. Preservation isn’t about talking to ourselves, or touring old houses with “enthusiasts” – it’s about preserving and protecting an environment, and reconnecting with our heritage.

I’ve written my “Letter to The Editor” regarding the possible demolition of these historic structures—and I would happily protest any effort toward their removal. The question is, will anyone join me?

ST. PAULS SUNDAY SCHOOL & PARISH HOUSE - BUILT 1880'S.

Back in 1986, I was sitting in the kitchen of Elsie Snyder, a local preservationist, along with a few other people, wondering what we could do to avoid the demolition of an old historic apartment building near Akron’s Grace Park. Those gatherings, and that initial effort—which ultimately proved to be unsuccessful—led to the founding of a local group called Progress Through Preservation, (now known as the Preservation Alliance of Greater Akron) which still operates today. I bring this up for two reasons. One – more of our local historic structures are seriously threatened with demolition. And Two – I am wondering if anyone in Akron will make a concerted effort to stop it.

The buildings in question are two of Akron’s most historic, and have been listed on the National Register of Historic Places for many years. They include the former St. Paul’s Episcopal Church and adjacent Sunday School Building and Parish House, located at East Market and Forge Streets. These remarkable gothic structures are among the few remaining links to 19th Century Akron, and the Sunday School is one of the better preserved examples of the historic “Akron Plan” that was developed by Lewis Miller and utilized in hundreds of church buildings across the nation up until WWI. They are attractive, generally well-preserved structures, dating from the 1880’s – 1890’s.

I believe the plan is to raze them to help create some sort of “grand entrance” to the University of Akron from East Market Street; I suppose to complement a similar plan they have for a southern entrance off East Exchange Street. Needless to say, the plan—and the building’s demolition—is unnecessary and short-sighted, and wholly representative of the school’s new administration, which has alienated itself from the greater community through a number of recent missteps such as this.


I may resolve to join yet, but I may wait to see what, if anything, the group will do to help stop the demolition of these historic buildings. The fact is, there is so little left of Akron from the pre-Rubber Boom era that we should be making a special effort to preserve buildings like these. Aside from a few church buildings, the only other structures left from this era are the Robinson Mansion at Buchtel Avenue (currently for sale) and an old funeral home. This stretch of East Market used to be lined with large mansions, much like Cleveland’s old Euclid Avenue—another victim of “progress.”



ST. PAUL'S EPISCOPAL - ORIGINAL SANCTUARY

I don’t know if this is true in many other places—somehow, I suspect it is—but it seems that some preservation organizations that were active, militant and vocal about preservation during the years when they were established have devolved into “historic architecture social clubs”. These groups plan neighborhood tours, handout preservation awards and maybe talk about appreciating old houses, but no longer take an active role in promoting, planning and fighting for historic preservation.

Years ago, the founders of these organizations would criticize historic groups who only looked at preservation through the concept of “historic house/building museums” – an approach based on taking a few of the very best old buildings, and preserving them in a glass case for future generations to enjoy. Thirty years ago, “real” preservationists knew that approach alone was not sufficient; they knew that preservation also meant saving neighborhoods, promoting adaptive re-use, promoting education, demanding government support, and weaving preservation into the fabric of our cities.

Just this last summer, the local preservation group I’ve mentioned held a Fir Hill neighborhood tour right where these buildings are currently under threat. I wonder what they were looking at. On that street alone, two of the large houses, an 1870’s era Alumni Center and a large 1890’s era mansion (most recently a fraternity house) had been demolished over the last couple of years, leaving just a handful of buildings on the street. If this pattern continues, there won’t be much to see there in coming years.

Distant tours of Detroit—which have also been on the group’s itinerary—will only have value if lessons learned in those cities are brought back to Akron and put into action. Preservation isn’t about talking to ourselves, or touring old houses with “enthusiasts” – it’s about preserving and protecting an environment, and reconnecting with our heritage.

I’ve written my “Letter to The Editor” regarding the possible demolition of these historic structures—and I would happily protest any effort toward their removal. The question is, will anyone join me?

It’s no surprise that I’m a traditionalist at heart. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be writing about Tudor-Revival houses, medieval art, victorian architecture or preservation issues. That said, I don’t mind a thoughtful update for an older home or a new interpretation of a traditional design. Most of better results come when the old and the new are blended harmoniously together; that doesn’t mean you can’t tell them apart, only that the combination feels natural rather than forced.

That’s why I have a hard time with this Tudor in Rye, NY – where the owner tacked this very contemporary addition onto the back of a modestly-sized Tudor Revival home. I suppose I’ve seen worse; the color and materials do complement the existing house to some extent, but the end result just doesn’t work for me. It’s like you took two totally different house and jammed them together.

What’s more, it seems the owner doesn’t really like traditional or revival styles anyway—the interior, even in the older part of the house—is ultra-contemporary, with no hint of the original house left behind. All white, steel and glass…it looks like the windows were the only element preserved from the existing home.

I suppose they liked the neighborhood. It’s unfortunate that they just didn’t decide to build an all-new contemporary house, rather than compromising the overall appearance of this one. Perhaps the only good thing I can say here is (as you can see in the second photo) that the addition was placed at the rear of the house, and is not so visible from the street.

While I have seen and even paged-through Prince Charles’ 1989 book, A Vision of Britain: A Personal View of Architecture many times, I have never purchased a copy. I suppose I should.

The Prince’s views on architecture, and his preference for the traditional over the modern are well-known. Ever since his famous “monstrous carbuncles” speech back in 1984, where he lectured the Royal Institute of British Architects (RIBA) and lambasted modern design, the Prince has been steadfast in his support for traditional design, refusing to back down.

That’s why the recent release of the Prince’s correspondence regarding health, housing and heritage matters is no surprise. Six letters written by Charles have been published by the Government and show how the heir to the throne raised issues close to his heart with the heads of various government departments.

It’s the second batch of letters released under a freedom of information request. I’m not quite sure what the request had hoped to uncover, since the letters support what most people already know about Charles’ areas of interest and concern.

One letter, from June 2009, detailed his concerns about "major historic sites, many of which are lying derelict''. He also hit out at "unscrupulous owners" for abandoning certain unnamed sites.

In another, he expresses concern about the lack of affordable rural housing:

''I have seen from my visits around the country the real problems finding an affordable home causes for those on low incomes in the countryside - many of whom are carrying out essential jobs, such as farm workers, teachers, shopkeepers and health workers and on whom the future viability of rural life depends.''

All in all, the letter reveal little if anything new, but they do provide additional detail about Prince Charles’ dedication to housing and heritage issues.

While I have seen and even paged-through Prince Charles’ 1989 book, A Vision of Britain: A Personal View of Architecture many times, I have never purchased a copy. I suppose I should.

The Prince’s views on architecture, and his preference for the traditional over the modern are well-known. Ever since his famous “monstrous carbuncles” speech back in 1984, where he lectured the Royal Institute of British Architects (RIBA) and lambasted modern design, the Prince has been steadfast in his support for traditional design, refusing to back down.

That’s why the recent release of the Prince’s correspondence regarding health, housing and heritage matters is no surprise. Six letters written by Charles have been published by the Government and show how the heir to the throne raised issues close to his heart with the heads of various government departments.

It’s the second batch of letters released under a freedom of information request. I’m not quite sure what the request had hoped to uncover, since the letters support what most people already know about Charles’ areas of interest and concern.

One letter, from June 2009, detailed his concerns about "major historic sites, many of which are lying derelict''. He also hit out at "unscrupulous owners" for abandoning certain unnamed sites.

In another, he expresses concern about the lack of affordable rural housing:

''I have seen from my visits around the country the real problems finding an affordable home causes for those on low incomes in the countryside - many of whom are carrying out essential jobs, such as farm workers, teachers, shopkeepers and health workers and on whom the future viability of rural life depends.''

All in all, the letter reveal little if anything new, but they do provide additional detail about Prince Charles’ dedication to housing and heritage issues.

 Over the years, I’ve seen any number of hideous houses mimicking Tudor-Revival styles; Tudor “ranches”… Tudor “split-levels” … butt-ugly homes where the proportions were all wrong, or where the builder tacked on an inappropriate element where it did not belong…the list is long.

I particularly remember a large home in Bath, Ohio, where the builder accented the formal entry with a poorly-imagined front inspired by Hampton Court; the rest of the house being rather stodgy and barn-like. Like a lot of McMansions, big -- but ill-conceived and ugly.

So it wasn’t surprising that the case of Surrey farmer Robert Fidler sparked some interest.  Apparently Fildler secretly built a mock Tudor castle, hidden behind a cover of tall hay bales for several years in an effort to bypass local restrictions. The 63-year-old thought he would be immune from planning rules as his family had been living there for more than four years and nobody had objected to it. Until he revealed his “creation” and the objectors came forward, fast and furious.

After many court appearances, local officials have finally ruled the four-bedroom home on Green Belt land at Honeycrocks Farm in Salfords, Surrey – worth well in excess of £1million if sold on the open market - must be pulled down within 90 days.

I think this side of the house really doesn't look too bad. I've seen far worse.

It’s an interesting case – and honestly, I’ve seen far worse looking in terms of Tudor-revival houses. While the backside is a little crude and not-so-well proportioned (the towers were built around grain silos) I found the front of the house (second photo) to be quite charming and very well-handled. The interiors look rather nice, too.

It does seem rather funny that no one had any visual objections to the positively ugly pile of hay bales and tarpaulins for over four years, but can’t stand the sight of the revealed house. I know the point is that Fildler bypassed the planning restrictions which everyone else must follow, but visual blight is visual blight. Would it be okay if he just covered it back up?

Read more about it HERE.

 Over the years, I’ve seen any number of hideous houses mimicking Tudor-Revival styles; Tudor “ranches”… Tudor “split-levels” … butt-ugly homes where the proportions were all wrong, or where the builder tacked on an inappropriate element where it did not belong…the list is long.

I particularly remember a large home in Bath, Ohio, where the builder accented the formal entry with a poorly-imagined front inspired by Hampton Court; the rest of the house being rather stodgy and barn-like. Like a lot of McMansions, big -- but ill-conceived and ugly.

So it wasn’t surprising that the case of Surrey farmer Robert Fidler sparked some interest.  Apparently Fildler secretly built a mock Tudor castle, hidden behind a cover of tall hay bales for several years in an effort to bypass local restrictions. The 63-year-old thought he would be immune from planning rules as his family had been living there for more than four years and nobody had objected to it. Until he revealed his “creation” and the objectors came forward, fast and furious.

After many court appearances, local officials have finally ruled the four-bedroom home on Green Belt land at Honeycrocks Farm in Salfords, Surrey – worth well in excess of £1million if sold on the open market - must be pulled down within 90 days.

It’s an interesting case – and honestly, I’ve seen far worse looking in terms of Tudor-revival houses. While the backside is a little crude and not-so-well proportioned (the towers were built around grain silos) I found the front of the house (second photo) to be quite charming and very well-handled. The interiors look rather nice, too.

It does seem rather funny that no one had any visual objections to the positively ugly pile of hay bales and tarpaulins for over four years, but can’t stand the sight of the revealed house. I know the point is that Fildler bypassed the planning restrictions which everyone else must follow, but visual blight is visual blight. Would it be okay if he just covered it back up?

Read more about it HERE.

Even though the local Council in Kilburn said NO to a request to demolish a historic pub and replace it with flats for rent, two bulldozers tore into Carlton Tavern in Carlton Vale, destroying its shell and all its contents.

Patsy Lord, the pub’s landlady, had no idea the building was to be demolished. She explained to newspapers that she was told “the pub was to be temporarily closed due to inventory.”

Previously, the property owner had presented a plan to demolish and replace the existing pub with a new building, to include pub at ground level and 10 residential units. That plan had been rejected on the basis that the bulk, height and detailed design of the new development “would be detrimental to the view from the adjacent Maida Vale Conservation Area and view from the nearby recreation ground” where it was a gateway to the park.

A council spokeswoman confirmed to the Times the demolition had taken place without permission and enforcement officers had attended the scene once they were alerted.

Unfortunately, even if a revised plan is put in place, the possibility of re-using the old pub’s historic furnishings and fixtures is no longer a possibility, since they were destroyed in the demolition. Likewise, it’s hard to imagine a new structure matching the old pub’s charm and architectural character.

You can read and see more HERE.

Although a great many of the "McMansions" that have sprung up across the landscape are to be rightly reviled for their gross and overblown designs, the problem is doubly painful when a fine old home is demolished to make way for these monstrocities. The problem has recently come to light again in Wilmette, IL - where an attractive prarie-style home with connections to Frank Lloyd Wright may fall to a wrecking ball.

In the article about that house, writer Lee Bey notes the story of another local house - a 1901 stucco and stone Tudor-revival home on Essex Road designed by Irish architect William Wallace Blair, who also lived in the house after it was completed. The home (see photo) was purchased by Heritage Luxury Builders, which last year sought permission to demolish the home and build a brand new one on the lot.

Some local residents weighed in on the proposal, and village officials held off on issuing any permits until this March. Meanwhile, the builder has been working with the village on an alternative that could save the existing home by building a large addition that would include an attached three-car garage, three powder rooms, a home theater, and six bedroom suites. The asking price on the newly-renovated home is expected to be in the range of $3,800,000.

While the compromise on this proposal is to be applauded, it is sad to think that so many "luxury" home builders (and their customers) are so quick to tear down a fine old house like this in the mistaken assumption that they can do better. All too often, we end up with a boring mish-mash of styles where sheer size has been substituted for style as a measure of taste and accomplishment.

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Although a great many of the "McMansions" that have sprung up across the landscape are to be rightly reviled for their gross and overblown designs, the problem is doubly painful when a fine old home is demolished to make way for these monstrocities. The problem has recently come to light again in Wilmette, IL - where an attractive prarie-style home with connections to Frank Lloyd Wright may fall to a wrecking ball.

In the article about that house, writer Lee Bey notes the story of another local house - a 1901 stucco and stone Tudor-revival home on Essex Road designed by Irish architect William Wallace Blair, who also lived in the house after it was completed. The home (see photo) was purchased by Heritage Luxury Builders, which last year sought permission to demolish the home and build a brand new one on the lot.

Some local residents weighed in on the proposal, and village officials held off on issuing any permits until this March. Meanwhile, the builder has been working with the village on an alternative that could save the existing home by building a large addition that would include an attached three-car garage, three powder rooms, a home theater, and six bedroom suites. The asking price on the newly-renovated home is expected to be in the range of $3,800,000.

While the compromise on this proposal is to be applauded, it is sad to think that so many "luxury" home builders (and their customers) are so quick to tear down a fine old house like this in the mistaken assumption that they can do better. All too often, we end up with a boring mish-mash of styles where sheer size has been substituted for style as a measure of taste and accomplishment.