
The architect’s home is the perfect test-bed for design ideas — it is a mini-laboratory for experiment and prototyping joinery and details. I have been at the same address for over 25 years and the one constant has been change, often much to my partner’s dismay. My small home in a converted Victorian terrace faces a communal garden that has matured into an urban forest.
Separation is now entirely accepted as the driving force of the organisation of a house and belies millennia of experience where people lived in closer and, you might argue, more annoying proximity to one another. Separation in the modern domestic scenario means sound proof walls, corridors and en-suite bathrooms for everyone. Keeping your voice down not to annoy the rest of the family is obsolete. We can be as selfish as we like.
My own work tries to push back in favour of encouraging social interaction wherever possible. I do this by maximising the importance of communal rooms, by minimising the use of corridors, by introducing interconnected volumes and by flowing spaces into each other. It means we are constrained to think about others. It means we are living in each other’s worlds and know what is going on. It also means we all get to share the best views and spaces. Good architecture, from the design of the home to the apartment block or to the street, nudge people into closer social contact but we all need the skills to cope. In my view those skills are valuable are learnt at home and passed on, which is why the design of the home remains so critical.