Spaces

I went to an architect's home today to interview him for a Cool Home feature. He's from Spain. His home is in a lesser known historic district in Phoenix. Nice, small homes built in the early to mid 1930s in Phoenix. When they were built they were advertised as "in the country.'' Now the neighborhood is in the heart of the sixth largest city in the country.
He's converted a one-car garage into his studio. That's on the architectural tour at the end of the month. I was there to see his home and talk to him about the space he'd created. He took me into his backyard. I scanned it quickly. Noticed the ramada he'd built at the back of the home. The concrete patio w/ the chair and table. The two lounge chairs. The square of grass surrounded by a pebble border. The bougainvillea. His sculpture. His arty looking fountain. He took me step by step around the yard. He called it his virtual swimming pool. Little upkeep and it made him feel cool. He pointed out the pomegranate trees, the bank of citrus trees all lighted so that at night he could sip his martini from the "dining" pad and look at the citrus. It's my urban paradise he said. The Spanish accent helped. But the thing I appreciated was having been slowed down and made/ encouraged to look at the details. Notice the wire lattice he'd created above a garden wall to create a strip of green cover between the yard and the driveway. The metal plaque he'd made with his company name stenciled in. He wanted hisyard to feel resort like in its attention to color, and aromas and views he'd framed. It was a nice, neat yard that otherwise I might never have noticed. It reminded me of the care people can take with whatever space they have to create a little paradise. A little virtual pool. The ramada I'd only glanced at on closer look was set atop thick logs with lattice bands slanted just so. In the winter, the slants guided the sun to the patio. In the summer, they were angled to provide shade and in between, they simply let light filter through. The concrete was stained. He didn't like flat gray concrete. It was acid washed and then the border was brushed with a certain kind of brush that created little pockets for the acid to stain darker. The center was brushed with another kind of material, creating another kind of color from the acid wash. The treatment created a kind of concrete rug. The ramada was strung with lights, criss-crossed to provide a pattern at night when the whole backyard could turn into a party. A little piece of urban paradise no bigger than a city lot with no diving pool, fire pit, jacuzzi, outdoor kitchen, mister system or putting green.