For Minneapolis-based architect Sarah Nettleton, the key to great residential architecture is doing more with less. In her book The Simple Home: The Luxury of Enough (Taunton Press, 2007), Nettleton extols the virtues of “common sense … the elimination of nonessentials, and restraint.” In her view, simplicity does not imply a particular style—or size—but it does require a deliberate economy of architectural gesture and content, and a sensitivity to their effect on the lives of the inhabitants. The reward, she says, is less burden and more joy. Custom Home spoke with Nettleton about how simplicity works as a design strategy and a business model.
When did you first identify simplicity as an essential value, and how does it apply in architecture?
Among architects, the principle of “less is more” is writ in stone, but for me the attraction goes back farther than that. I grew up in New England. My father used to straighten old nails to be reused. So I’ve always valued simplicity and thrift. Interestingly enough, the word “thrifty” comes from the same root as “thrive.” It doesn’t mean cheap, throwaway, or compromised; it’s about balancing short-term cost and long-term value, weighing the experience you get out of something against the cost you put into it.
I wrote my book to present an alternative to the luxury of opulence and excess, to the consumer-driven culture of crystal chandeliers and big rooms that no one goes into. “The luxury of enough” is a reframing of the conversation about what makes you feel good. It’s about asking what’s really important, what’s authentic. It’s about the experience of living in the house, not just about what it looks like.
How does “the luxury of enough” work in practice?
What comes immediately to mind is having one really nice room that you truly enjoy being in rather than three not-quite-right rooms. I tell my clients, let’s stop counting rooms and focus instead on what’s really important to you. The two key words are “flexible” and “multipurpose.” There’s probably going to be some compromise involved, but what seem like limitations can actually make the project better. Build what you can afford and compromise, not on quality, but by having rooms that serve more than one function. Getting the natural lighting right is also extremely important. And in small rooms, make sure there are places to put things away, so stuff doesn’t get heaped up in piles in the corner. These small actions grant a great privilege: simplicity of lifestyle.
Can you give us a real-world example?
Our clients often say they would like to add a sunroom to their house, which here in Minnesota means a three-sided room that’s really hard to heat and isn’t pleasant most of the year. Instead, I say, let’s make a room that really works, designing the window layout so you have a sunny, delightful place that doesn’t overheat. That sounds simple, but it’s a tricky design problem.
In the project I call Minnesota Valley House, the living room has two sliding glass doors that open onto a beautiful view across a river valley. There’s nothing unusual about that, but they’re glazed with high solar heat gain coefficient glass, so the light that comes in warms the concrete floor and is stored as passive solar energy, which radiates back slowly in the evening to warm that space. In the summer, operable perforated-metal screens on the outside restrict the amount of sun coming in while still allowing a view out. So the room has all the qualities that people seek in a sunroom, but incorporated into the living room. That’s an integrated solution that makes for a delightful space.
It also must involve a lot of design hours per square foot. How does your business model account for that?
A very complicated small project is going to have a big fee attached to it, relative to its size, but I don’t charge by the square foot. I use projected construction cost as an indicator of complexity, but I normally don’t charge on a percentage of construction cost either. Most of our contracts are on a fixed-fee basis. Each contract includes a task list and specifies either a fixed fee or an hourly rate for revisions, so we can do things that aren’t on the initial list in a way that gives the client some predictability.
The business model has to work for us, and the service we’re providing needs to work for the client. Sometimes it’s easier to discuss that with clients who are on a constrained budget. But people with larger budgets, who could basically have whatever they want, also want to have that conversation. What I say to them is, just because you have the money doesn’t mean we have to spend it all for you. Let’s see what’s really going to work for you, where your comfort level is, and what you would like.
How do you persuade clients that less really can be more?
Most people don’t understand what building quality means. And a lot of production houses—forgive me—skimp on the quality of important components like windows and HVAC systems. That’s why they can be built for $100 a square foot. They seem really fancy and they have granite counters, so owners are astonished to find out that they’re not all that they could be in terms of durability and performance.
Getting clients to understand that takes some back and forth. We just did a chart for a client about what they would get at various square-foot price levels. We listed a lot of things, including HVAC, which is a big part of the cost of a house. At $100 a square foot, you’re going to get a forced-air system with a single-speed furnace and it will have only one zone, so the upstairs will be hot, and downstairs will be cold. At $300 a square foot, you get in-floor radiant heat, better temperature controls, an energy-recovery ventilation system, and so on. That’s the point where it starts to make sense to people because very often they live in one of those $100-per-square foot houses, and those are the things they don’t like about it.
People are rapidly losing interest in giant houses. When I talk to younger developers, they’re all interested in doing things the way that my “luxury of enough” points them. The real estate market has changed, too. Since the recession, we no longer assume that a house will only increase in value. I think we’re coming into a time when quality will trump quantity. Clients are going to be looking for house with a low heating bill, that’s tight and comfortable, that’s going to stay warm even if there’s a power failure. And those things often involve trading quantity for quality.
