RE: Finished

A few months ago, we bought a vintage dresser from one of our favorite shops in town, the English Building Market. (We shouldn't ever go in there--we always see something wonderful that fits our taste to a T! And usually, our purchases begin with a dimly-lit photo-text with the message "what do you think of this!?) It was in pretty good shape and would have done fine as-is with little cleanup, but I have been wanting to try get started refinishing some of the pieces we have gathered over the years (many from the English Building Market!), and so this seemed like a good start.

The piece is stamped "Vega in Walnut by Morris" in one of the drawers. It seems like a pretty well-built piece, but I am not sure the actual vintage. Some brief online sleuthing only suggests that the Morris company was making furniture from about WWI until the late 1980s. If I had to guess, I would think this piece is somewhere from the 1960s or 1970s.

I started out working on the drawers by sanding the inside and outside of the drawer body. I then focused my time on the walnut veneer face, using 100 grit sandpaper at first to get the old finish off. I then moved up to 220, and then 400 grit sandpaper, and finally steel wool. The wood is finished simply by wiping on teak oil with a cloth. It was an amazing transformation, which is quite evident in the before and after shot of the drawers. The grain, hidden beneath dirty and old, yellowed finish, now practically glows.

The drawers had some beautiful details. The center drawers have drawer pulls, wooden knobs with little brass hardware. I worked hard to polish up the brass until it glowed using steel wool. I think the color of the brass against the walnut is really beautiful.

The side drawers have integrated pulls. It seems almost strange, but the back of the pulls are laminate meant to look like wood. It is odd in concept, but in actuality, it was probably a smart move. In other period pieces we have with integrated drawer pulls, the wood is chewed up from many years of fingernails opening and closing the drawers. The color of the laminate is a bit off from the overall color of the piece, but it has helped keep the rest of the wood looking great.

The drawers sat finished for a few days before finally getting started on the chest, which in the end only took two days of on-and-off work to finish.

The chest itself needed a bit of work on the left side prior to finishing, where one whole edge of veneer was delaminating. Using a palette knife and two extra hands (thanks to my lovely assistant, Kim!), we inserted glue behind the veneer and then used a plywood board and a strap clamp around the whole chest to flatten out as many bubbles as possible.

Truth be told, there are still a few warped portions of veneer, but it is in much better condition than before. And we were fortunate that there were very few places where veneer had been completely lost.

Using the same technique as the drawer fronts (100, 220, 400, steel wool, teak oil), I finished the chest. Except for the top, which had some extra layers of old finish and needed a sander, the entire piece was sanded by hand in order to protect the delicate veneer. The surface now glows with beautiful book-matched veneer!

And the hardwood legs and brackets also cleaned up quite nicely.

The (re)finished piece now sits proudly in our bedroom, awaiting clothes and a long second life! It will also (hopefully this summer?) feature prominently in the new master bedroom renovation we have been planning!

(And, yes, that is the requisite Alvar Aalto vase sitting on top. It is a staple in staging photos of Modern furniture!)

Behind the Scenes of the Newberry Memorial Organ

I had the great privilege yesterday of taking a behind-the-scenes tour of one of the largest organs in the world: the Newberry Memorial Organ in Woolsey Hall at Yale University. A couple of people from my department were guided through the organ by organ curator Joe Dzeda while Tom Murray, University Organist, played.

The Newberry Memorial Organ in Woolsey Hall was built in 1903 by the Hutchings-Votey Organ Company, improved mechanically and almost doubled in size in 1915 by the J. W. Steere & Sons Organ Company, and rebuilt and enlarged in 1928 by the Skinner Organ Company of Boston. University Organist Harry Benjamin Jepson (1871-1952) was responsible for the design of the instrument, executed by Ernest M. Skinner and G. Donald Harrison of the Skinner firm. Consisting of 12,617 pipes arranged in 197 ranks and 167 speaking stops, it is one of the largest and most outstanding instruments of its period. The Newberry Organ has been kept tonally and technologically intact since its 1928/29 reconstruction, and is used throughout the academic year for teaching, concerts and gala events. It is maintained by the Associate Curators of Organs, Joseph F. Dzeda and Nicholas Thompson-Allen.

It was amazing to be among the pipes and works of such a great instrument as the sound, quite literally and forcefully, resonated within our very being!

A view from the rear of Woolsey Hall looking toward the stage. The organ console sits front and center with the facade pipes (unvoiced) hiding the great city of organ pipes beyond.

A diagram of the pipes hidden behind the facade. There are six major sections: Solo Organ, Great Organ, Swell Organ, String Organ, Orchestral Organ, and Choir Organ.

A closer look at the facade of decorative pipes.

The console comprises four manuals and 167 stops.

Another view of the manuals and stops.

A first look into the great cavity of organ pipes. Ductwork carries air from large blowers in the basement up through the works.

A dedication plaque for the Newberry Memorial Organ is located on the wall of the concert hall behind the organ pipes.

Some views of the outside of the Swell Organ, which sits behind giant louvered doors, allowing the organist to decrease (by closing) or increase (by opening) the volume of sound, causing the sound to "swell."

So that the seasonal expansion and contraction of the wood supporting structured does not tear apart the more delicate parts of the organ, wood dowels serve as wheels or bearings on which portions of the organ can slide.

These boxes serve as regulators for the air by using springs to equalize the air pressure as air blows in and is then forced out. There are many of these contraptions through the organ and they help supply a constant volume of air to different pipes.

A view of some of the smaller pipes, which this architect couldn't help imagining as little cities of skyscrapers! The little coiled caps on the wooden pipes allow tuning (metal pipes also have little coils on the sides near the top for the same purpose). It can take two people six hours to fully tune the instrument, which happens surprisingly often during the year, including "touch ups" of problem areas before events or concerts.

A view of the base of some of the largest pipes in the organ. The air coming out of these is quite a strong gust of wind.

I was excited to get a unique view of Woolsey Hall from above and behind the organ facade!

There are even more pipes in the basement, where century-old "surround sound" technology fills the concert hall through vents.

Tight spaces in the basement mean that some of the longer pipes are doubled over (some are folded even more than this). We were assured that "the pipe doesn't care" and the sound quality is not compromised.

A view of some of the wooden pipes in the basement.

There are also four practice organs in the basement, including several similar to the photos above. The manuals and pipe casework were works of art in themselves.

A more modern arrangement for one of the practice organs.

These are some views of the brains of the organ, i.e. a century-old computer. It turns electrical impulses from the console into pneumatic control of each individual organ pipe. Though the system has been digitized as well, this is one of the oldest (the oldest?) surviving, fully-functional systems.

Two huge blower turbines sit deep in the basement and supply all the air for the many organ pipes. Each blower can fully supply the organ, and redundancy allows the motors to be changed over at the flip of a switch, even mid-concert, without missing a beat!

Stepping into the organ curators' workshop is like stepping back in time.

In the workshop, there are photos of famous churches, organs, organists, and organ conservators.

And as a parting shot, a close-up view of the stage wall. I have loved this decorative pattern since the first time I stepped into Woolsey Hall.

In Memoriam: Oscar Niemeyer

Here, then, is what I wanted to tell you of my architecture. I created it with courage and idealism, but also with an awareness of the fact that what is important is life, friends and attempting to make this unjust world a better place in which to live. (Oscar Niemeyer)

Renowned Brazilian architect Oscar Niemeyer (December 15, 1907 - December 5, 2012) died yesterday in Rio de Janeiro. The last of the great Modern (with a capital "M") architects, he was just 10 days shy of his 105th birthday. He was one of my heroes.

Why such a hero to me? Honestly, I can't really even put my finger on it. Writing about his life and work a few years ago, I called both the man and his work "A Strange Paradox." He was by all accounts a visionary, an artist, a lover of life--and he defined the image of a nation quite literally with his extensive work in Brasilia, Brazil's mid-century ex nihilo capital. But he was also an atheist, communist, exile whose love for life was, it seems to me, mediated by a melancholic longing for something more.

Though I had the privilege of being around a number of "famous" architects while in grad school at Yale, I am not generally the star-struck architecture fan type. Niemeyer was different for me, though. Until learning of his death last night, I secretly held on to a long-time dream of "some day" meeting him, even if only to shake hands and say a few words. At 104 and still at work, one could imagine him living forever. The closest I came was during a trip to Rio de Janeiro in 2009. As we were working out the details of our itinerary, I corresponded via e-mail with his office trying to arrange a brief meeting, but I was not able to work anything out.

Coincidentally enough, I was actually thinking about Niemeyer yesterday. That tends to happen when early December rolls around and I remember his upcoming birthday. I walked over to the bookshelves in my office where I keep all of my architecture books. I browsed the section of Niemeyer books (I have close to a dozen) and picked up his memoir, The Curves of Time, which I read a few years ago. Crossing the line completely into star-struck-fan, I even though, "I wonder if I could mail this to him to sign for me?"

I have been fortunate to be able to see a number of Niemeyer's notable works in the past few years in Rio de Janeiro, Curitiba, and Belo Horizonte, Brazil and in Milan, Italy. Some visits were pilgrimages that my family graciously indulged me with, while other projects were simply viewed in passing. I've included some photos from these trips below.

Outside the Museum of Contemporary Art in Niteroi, across the bay from Rio de Janeiro

(December 2009).

The kiddos being cool in front of the Ministry of Education and Health in Rio de Janeiro.

(December 2009)

Heading through the 2nd floor reception room of the Ministry of Education and Health out to the lush rooftop garden.

(December 2009)

In front of the Museu Oscar Niemeyer in Curitiba, Brazil.

(July 2011)

We were looking for a grocery store in Belo Horizonte and stumbled upon this residential building by Niemeyer.

(July 2011)

The sinuous curves of the Casa do Baile (Dance Hall) on the lake in Pampulha, Belo Horizonte.

(July 2011)

Ex casino in Pampulha, now an art museum.

(July 2011)

Happy architect in front of the Chapel of St. Francis in Belo Horizonte.

(July 2011)

Brasilia from the air, with the monumental axis where may of Niemeyer's iconic government buildings are situated running from lower left to upper right in the photo. This has got to be on one of our next Brazil trips!

(July 2011)

Additional Resources:

I've written about Niemeyer on Through the Oculus (here), and I've also written some research papers about Niemeyer and his work while in graduate school (here and here).

Here are some links to recent articles in response to Niemeyer's death: ABC, Arch Daily, Arch Daily Brasil, Archinect, BBC, CNN, Fox News Latino, O Globo, O Globo (2), O Globo (3), The Guardian, Tue Guardian (2), Huffington Post, The Independent, Los Angeles Times, New York Times, NPR, The Telegraph, The Wall Street Journal, and The Washington Post.

Mind the Gap

I made the serendipitous discovery while walking in front of the gym the other day that Harkness Tower can be seen over the pathway between Morse and Stiles Colleges, if only for a few seconds, as one travels along Tower Parkway.

The juxtaposition of the 1930s Gothic revival Harkness Tower by architect James Gamble Rogers with Eero Saarinen's 1960s Modern residential colleges is just the kind of playful architectural "eye-candy" that continues to amaze me as I discover more of my favorite little moments on campus.

The sunlight late this afternoon bathed the yellowish stone of the campus in a golden glow. It was so lovely that while biking home from work today I stopped to take a panorama of the Morse and Stiles crescent. This golden glow of Yale is one of the things I vividly remember from my first visit to campus on 2002.

Campus Views

I have really enjoyed getting to know Yale's campus a bit better in the last few months since starting my job as Senior Planner.  In addition to the exceptional people I have the opportunity to work with daily, my job affords me access to some pretty cool places.

Here are some highlights from the past few months:

Looking southwest from the seventh floor of Whitney Grove Square over Timothy Dwight College toward the New Haven Green.  (Alas, the Dementors did not show.)

A view of Yale from the 14th floor of he Eli building downtown.  Sterling Memorial Library is on the left, the Hall of Graduate Studies tower in the center, and the shrouded Payne Whitney Gymnasium tower on the right.

Beinecke Library and Plaza, with Commons to the right.

From the roof of Payne Whitney Gym looking east over Morse and Stiles Colleges, with the Hall of Graduate Studies tower in between.

A beautiful late-summer day in the Silliman courtyard.

The interior of the Berkeley dining hall.

The reading room at the Divinity School Library.

A panoramic view of the Yale Bowl.  (I am pretty sure this was only the third time in my life I have ever been inside a football stadium.)

Take me out to the ballgame?  A view of Yale Field.

A View from Seven

After almost eight years of employment at Pickard Chilton, I recently resigned from the firm to take a position in the University Planning office of Yale University.

Though I am still getting used to my new role as "Senior Planner" and all it entails, one thing that I have gotten used to is the view from my office.  (Yes, I now have an office.  With a door.)

My office is on the seventh floor of Whitney Grove Square, just two blocks north of the New Haven Green.  My window looks west over the campus and gets great light, and even after two weeks, I have not yet turned on my ceiling light!  (And no, the adjacent flat rooftop is not accessible.)

From left to right on the photograph, notable buildings on the skyline are:

• Center Church on the Green;
• United Church on the Green;
• the Taft apartment building;
• Bingham Hall on Old Campus;
• the tower of  Timothy Dwight College (in the foreground);
• First & Summerfield United Methodist Church;
• Harkness Tower at Branford College;
• the stacks of Sterling Memorial Library (background) and tower of Silliman College (foreground);
• the Hall of Graduate Studies tower;
• the dome of Woolsey Hall;
• Payne Whitney Gymnasium (shrouded in blue);
• Sheffield-Sterling-Strathcona;
• and St. Mary's Church.