Here’s
an idea:
Let’s superserve the client
And then build a house
Holy bug butts this is a good book! Well written, well organized,
and well thought out, it’s
the best description of what happens and why when designing a house with an
architect that I’ve found. Written by an
architect for architects getting into residential design, I reckon it covers
the stuff that doesn’t
get covered in school, namely how to interact with clients during the process.
Malone has clearly thought deeply about this part of his business.
As a (ahem) consumer of architectural services, I thought his
description of the typical client was eerily spot on (it’s odd reading about yourself by
someone you’ve never met…). And his empathic approach--putting
himself in the client’s
shoes when sh!t goes wrong and responding accordingly--is admirable (and
greatly lacking in client services in general these days…). As a client, it was very
interesting to read about the architect’s
perspective of the design process and “appropriate” client feedback into that
process. This is a book that needs to be read by architects and clients alike.
Malone states that it takes three qualities for someone to want an
architect-designed house: Ego, patience, and money. We were surprised by the
ego bit. Not that we don’t
have ego (my bride has nearly none, but I probably have enough for the two of
us… [step back from the car with
your hands up!]), but that came out of left field. Malone equates the ego
thing, in part, to thinking that there’s
not a single house out there to fit your needs; therefore, you feel the need to
hire someone to design and build the “perfect
house” for you (probably applies us; we attribute our desire to build a house to wanting to go green and particularness in material choices and color). Or it could, in part, be to beat the Joneses (definitely not us;
Malone practices in Dallas—there’s a lot of Jones-beating up in
Dallas). Patience is needed to work through the drama of the design and building
process (yep!). And, of course, money. Building an architect-designed house is typically
a rich man’s (or woman’s [or couple’s]) sport.
An interesting insight into this critter called “architect” is how they (or at least
Malone) react to client design preferences: “During your initial interviews [the clients]
will usually tell you up front what they are looking for; some may even have
books or magazines with specific houses or, even worse, various elements of
houses they fully expect to see incorporated into their new home.” This sentence made me go “hmmmm” and pull my earlobe three
times. I had thought that showing architects precedents was a good thing (and
swear I read that somewhere). From a client’s perspective, it lets the architect see
what your general design preferences are and lets the architect respectfully
decline if those preferences don’t
align (“Sorry: I don’t architect houses that look
like Burger Kings.”).
I certainly understand an architect not wanting to deal with an exhaustive
listing of required elements: The architecture at that point is driven by
design elements rather than use and program.
Malone’s
description of a residential architect’s
potential client base is spot-on. He notes that the client base is a small
world that either knows each other directly or have contact through social and
business networks. Indeed. For example, one of the architects we considered and
then unconsidered was because a pal of ours had had a terrible experience with
him. Some sentences that resonated with me for some reason: “Bad word of mouth can hurt you,
especially if you are terminated by a client who has been paying fees for work
she or he considers unsatisfactory, without you being able to finish the
project.” and “They will now be faced with
selecting and hiring another architect and moving forward from scratch, a
potentially devastating charge to be leveled against you.” Just saying…
Malone advocates that architects use what amounts to basic
business communication strategies (which, admittedly, even businesses struggle
to employ). Namely, using agendas for meetings that clearly describe the
purpose and goals of the meetings, written communication following meetings,
and ongoing written summaries of decisions. One thing I’ve learned in my professional
and personal life is that communication is key. Not surprisingly, that also
applies to designing and building a house.
Malone notes how design and material choices and preferences of
the architect can cause a budget to go awry just as design and material choices
and preferences of the client can cause a budget to go awry (and Gawd forbid if
both run amuck!). And Malone is clever in noting that an architect’s vision is much more likely to
be realized if the architect is attentive to budget issues up front. If not,
the client or builder will “fix” things to fit the budget (true,
true: a couple builders told us during the dissolution of Round 1.0: “Just get the plans from the
architect and then we’ll
fix everything in the build.”).
As mentioned in an earlier post, Malone advocates that architects
use a questionnaire to survey the needs and preferences of clients. And he
provides an example. A great idea, methinks. Gets the clients thinking about
what they want and documents it in writing. Another interesting section of the
book focuses on “soft bidding”: getting estimates from
builders before working on design. Malone notes that he has “…a consistent history of projects
that, when priced, come in over budget, making everyone unhappy and
uncomfortable when they do. No amount of careful planning or candid disclosure
of your thoughts regarding the cost can prepare the clients for a project that
has a price they cannot afford.” He
goes on to note that he tries “to
do the maximum possible with every design opportunity”. Although admirable (design is
good!), this pressures the budget. Something to keep in mind about architects…
Later in the book, he addresses bids over budget (“and they always are”) and notes that this is when
most residential projects die (can’t
tell you how many folks we’ve
talked to that have worked with an architect only to have their project suffer
a whimpering got-run-over-by-the-bidding death). He notes that this is where
the client is often disappointed and angry (uh-huh) and the architect needs to
exert leadership to ensure the project moves forward. Malone describes that
leadership as leveraging trust earned earlier in the relationship into a
discussion of value engineering and, if needed, changes in design. For his
firm, he will often redesign and adjust the plans at no cost to the client.
It was real interesting reading these bits given our experience
with Architect 1.0, which was, in short, a perfect storm of bad. He lost our
trust as a good steward of our resources early in the design process; when
things went wrong, he blamed us for things that he did (which were provable via
written documentation [remember, putting things in writing goes both ways…]); and his leadership at the
end was to try and save design elements and material choices he wanted over our
program needs. That’s
not to say we weren’t
part of the problem. There were design choices we made that certainly added to
the cost. And after reading this book, perhaps we had a misunderstanding of
what an architect does.
About that misunderstanding: Malone suggests that architects
provide a “service for fee” similar, say, to an attorney.
Along those lines, you are hiring expertise to advise you, but you are making
the decisions and hence the outcome, ultimately, is yours (hence Architect 1.0
stating that he was not obligated to design a house we could afford). From a
consumer standpoint, this is there’s-a-monster-hiding-in-the-amply-sized-master-bedroom-closet
scary if it’s not clear up front (and it isn’t clear up front) and if it’s not clear during the design
process. When we hired an architect, it was not only to hire expertise to
design a functional thing of beauty that met (most) of our program needs but
also knowledge of general construction costs. The lawyer-service-thing comes
into play because a lawyer will typically discuss your legal options and the
implications therein (perhaps with a recommendation), but you ultimately choose
the option and, hence, your fate. The same thing applies with an architect. If
you want a $100,000 negative edge pool and the architect explains that it will
bust the budget, you shouldn’t
be surprised when the budget is busted when the project finally gets bidded.
On the other hand, be watchful for design decision traps where you
are making critical decisions that impact budget without knowing it. For
example, the architect might ask “What
do you think about putting a negative edge pool off the back patio? It would
look great juxtaposed against summer skies!” And you might reply “Yeah, that would be great!” assuming the pool fits into the
previously discussed budget. But it probably doesn’t. This is an extreme example,
but it happens with lots of little and medium sized design decisions that add
up over time. If budget is a concern, always spew the phrase “Can we do this on our budget?” and “How are we doing on budget?” (although, as we learned
earlier, that doesn’t
guarantee anything).
We’ve received criticism that we
were unreasonable in our upsettedness with Architect 1.0 because he designed a
house we loved. Although I’m
not an architect, I’ll
go out on a limb and say that it’s
pretty damn easy to design a house a client loves. There are lots of houses out
there we love. We would love to live in about 90 percent of the houses we see
on the AIA tours. One little problem: We can’t afford them. The true talent of an
architect is designing a house the client loves within the budget. Although Malone notes the service-for-fee bit,
he also notes that clients expect the process to produce a design that fits the
budget and he runs his business accordingly. This is a case where reality
(expectations/perceptions of clients)
trump the theory of the service an architect provides.
Malone goes on to discuss contracting, construction
administration, and the building process. He also includes case studies at the
end of each chapter. At first, the case studies are rather rosy; something I
was going to ding the book for (what do you learn from rosy case studies?). But
then he describes, toward the end of the book, some particularly nasty
situations and the lessons he learned from them.
This book is, quite simply, fantastic. I can’t say enough nice things about
it. I have to think that it’s
invaluable for practicing or soon-to-be-practicing architects. And it’s certainly invaluable to
clients hoping to get a better understanding of the process and the inner workings
of this critter called “architect”.
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