the cloud bed

 

For cabin beds, we went with Floyd. We liked the design (platform, de Stijl cantilevers, black steel, natty wood), the concept (made in Detroit!), and the ability to ship it straight to the cabin. Ordering and delivery was a bit of a nightmare. They don't tell you about supply-chain-induced delays in shipping until after you order and they get your money (at the time, we really needed the beds in a few weeks), it took a lot longer for delivery than anticipated (about twice as long as the already supply-chain delays), and no one seemed to know about the status of our order (this after the delivery came and went). But they finally arrived! We were fortunate that the builder agreed to receive the beds and get them in the house (these dang things ain't cheap and they ain't light).

These platform beds have a nice, minimalist design that Donald Judd would approve of. The bed boards are scalable such that they can be used for a twin, queen, or king bed. The panels are connected through slotted steel feet that the boards slip into. The slotted pieces on each upper and lower end are then bound together with a ratchet strap. Amazingly, no tools are required. We also ordered the headboard and have the newly available attached side tables on the way. Similarly, these add-ons do not require tools to attach them. Although I was alone, I was able to assemble our king-sized bed on my recent trip. It took about an hour although, knowing what I know now, could do it in half an hour in the future. 

I figured that when we move in come November and make that all-day drive, we were not going to want to set up the bed before sleeping on it. Turns out this was a wise decision because, although the bed doesn't take too much time to put together, the mattress requires a least an hour to decompress. It appeared that at the low atmospheric pressures of Cloudcroft, it might need more time than that since the mattress did not appear to be fully sprung after an hour (but it still felt good to lay down on). I left the mattress in its plastic cocoon until our move-in in November. 

We have two twins for downstairs, but I did not put them together on this trip. November.

cabin closer...

 

A few weeks ago, El Paso invited me to keynote a water brainstorming meeting this past Friday. It was short notice, and I need my weekends these days to get ready for the next workweek (especially since I am teaching this semester), but the temptations of (1) staying at Henry Trost's O.T. Bassett Tower (more on that in a subsequent post) and (2) daytripping up to Cloudcroft to check on the cabin were too great (not to mention speaking in El Paso, a great worldwide center for water innovation). Plus, I caught the 5:20 am direct flight to Austin early this morning so I could be here to get ready for class.

It's just shy of a two-hour drive from downtown El Paso to Cloudcroft, so off I went early Saturday morning. My first stop (which is usually the case) was Black Bear Coffee to get a latte and see if Gabe, one of the architects, was there (he was). From there, it was a short drive across town to the cabin. It was a beautiful morning, but gathering clouds promised monsoon rains around the noonhour.

The first thing to see upon arrival was the new hardscape out front, and it immediately brought a smile to my face. The primary purpose of this concrete pour was to keep someone from sliding down the hill and smashing into the cabin but to also bring in some visual interest to the drive, and it does just that. Plus, the concrete squares at different heights look really, really good, both in design and execution. The builder said that the guy who attached our address to the tallest hunk of 'crete kept asking about dropping the "o" at the end since it didn't seem right to not be straight. There will be a black fence/structure around the propane tank to hide it from view. I've got some LOL designs slanted black pots coming to place to the left of the door. Once we move in, we'll plant wildflowers and some other bushes to soften the front a bit.

 

The gutter isn't yet hooked up to the rainwater tank in the lower level. The original thought was to bring the gutter inside the front of the house and then down into the lower level, but now the thought is to bring it straight down, around, and then into the lower level. This is probably for the best since bringing the pipe into the thermal envelope would have required some serious concrete cutting and digging. Hopefully the first flush will still be inside such that the front stays uncluttered.

Down in the lower level, the pooperpumper is all hooked up as is the water. The rainwater treatment train is up and ready for water. There is a filter and then a UV light as well as two back-flow preventers (one to keep the rainwater from getting into the city's system and another one to keep the city water from getting into the rainwater supply [ha!]). This set-up is far more civilized than what is done in Texas (or at least Austin) where the backflow preventer is a large and ugly thing that sticks up in your front yard.

The AC condenser is installed:

Stepping in the house, the kitchen is an eye-grabber with the black pulling you in like a gravitational blackhole of baking bread. Almost everything is complete except for some details to address on the fridge connecting the water supply (and pushing it all the way back to its counter depth) and one of the burners not working.

The backsplash behind the cooktop is installed and, sadly, the color of the tile clashes a bit with the color of the countertop. It's good enough for now, but I see getting a hunk of the countertop material and replacing the tile with that in the near future. Nonetheless, the whole look of the kitchen works well. No regrets on going black.

 

 

The fireplace is in (although not working quite right yet...), and the living room is ready for living:

 

 

 

The stairwell is looking really, really good. It's a visually interesting space with the angled wall, the windows, the lighting, the translucent clerestory, and the railings. The metal railing came out really, really nice and fits in well with all the black bidness in the house. And that ceiling fixture is the bomb!

Downstairs is pretty much done: the bathroom is all there, and the vent covers are rockin'. Forgot to get photos of the upstairs vent covers, but they look good as well: old skool steam punk (and black).

The only thing holding up the certificate of occupancy at this point are the glass railings, which have been a pain-in-the-patootie. The first batch arrived intact but had the mounting holes in the wrong place. The second batch arrived with a number of 'em shattered. So we await the third batch. Our next visit will be in November when we will move in and stay there for a week and a half, so hopefully this will all be resolved then. The white on the ground in the photo below was hail accumulation a couple hours after it hailed, so that gives you a sense of how cold it is up there. When I drove back to El Paso, I stopped in Alamogordo for an early dinner. It was funny stepping out of the car all bundled up into the warmth of lower elevations.

The builder says ours is his favorite house so far, but he probably says that about all the girls. ;-) Can't wait to move in and coze the place up with furniture and art.

stair light, stair bright, first stair i see tonight...

 

One of the architect's signature details are lighted stair risers. And here they are! This is a really neat way to light the way, and it looks fantastic: superclean and modern. The photo also reveals the completion of the railing as well as the handrails.

I'm speaking at a water event in El Paso on Friday, so I'll hang out an extra day to drive up to Cloudcroft to check in on progress and enjoy a little mountain air.

rietveld's berlin chair (and a bench!)

 

Another classic from Rietveld's oeuvre is the Berlin Chair, first conceived and built in 1923 for the "Juryfreie Kunstschau" (jury-free art show) in (you guessed it...): Berlin!  The chair is a de Stijl masterpiece. I sat in a knock-off of one in Marfa, and it is more comfortable than it looks (but you would not want to spend a football game in it). 

The two sets of plans below are from my How-to-Build-Reitveld-Furniture books.

An emerging theme with this Rietveld furniture is that much of it was reintroduced later, when the design world caught up (and history put his designs into context). His 1960 version of the chair put an angle in the arm rest in an almost quaint nod to comfort. I prefer that version I reckon.

The second design book I bought unexpectedly included a design for a bench I had never seen before. The book doesn't have a date, but says it was designed and built for the Fraenkel (Frenkel?) Family and that he designed a similar bench for the Rietveld-Schröder House. 

A couple of web pages (with no supporting documention) tag the bench with 1930. The similar piece in the Rietveld-Schröder House is probably the piece here with the cushion on it:

Donald Judd (1928-1994), the American minimalist sculptor, has a similar piece:

So here's Rietveld's design according to the books I have:

This flickr site (where the previous two photos of this bench came from) has some details of the construction:

 

 

 

A weird thing about this design is that it seems to have been created for little people (or kids). The height at the seat is a mere 29.3 centimeters: about 11.5 inches. That is not old, fat dude friendly. I think the whole kit and kaboodle needs to be scaled up to a 40 centimeter bench height (which allows for a cushion). So to build this, everything should be multiplied by 1.365.

For our space, we need the mirror image. in other words:

The photos above have a different height for the long backing piece that extends above the seat. It's actually better visually (by my eye) at that shorter height. It could be that Rietveld improved the design when he reintroduced it later or that the plans in the book ain't quite right. I've not been able to find photos of the original piece, and the definitive book on his furniture runs $250.