Gregg Scott, FAIA, Partner Emeritus at RLPS Architects, will be hosting a private walking tour of Historic Downtown Lancaster, highlighting the impressive architecture that can be found along West Chestnut Street. This Lancaster Walking Tour will showcase a diverse mix of commercial and residential buildings reflecting a myriad of architectural styles, all within a few blocks of the city square.
HANDOUTS FOR LANCASTER WALKING TOUR:
The following pdf files are the handouts for tour-goers to reference during the tour:
This ICAA, Philadelphia Chapter, member event, begins at the historic Franklin & Marshall College campus and includes a six-block walk to center city along mansion row. See multiple examples of Chateauesque, Tudor Revival, Colonial Revival, English Country, Spanish Revival, Dutch Colonial, Norman Gothic, Queen Anne and Second Empire. Ending in center city, Penn Square supports an additional fourteen architectural styles within a two-block radius of the 1874 Gothic Revival Civil War memorial. The vast inventory of diverse architectural styles in excellent condition impresses even the most fervent architectural critics. Our tour will adjourn with lunch (not included) at the internationally acclaimed 1889 Romanesque Revival Central Market, a commission won by James H. Warner when he was only twenty-four years old!
Craig Walton, a former partner of RLPS who retired in 2015, passed away on August 8th, 2020. Not only was Craig a beloved member of RLPS for over 25 years, he is also the namesake of our office’s CH Walton Gallery.
The following information is extracted from the full obituary on Lancaster Online.
Craig H. Walton, 69, of Lyme, New Hampshire, passed away August 8, 2020, with his family by his side.
His death came after a ten-year struggle with the rare illness Progressive Supranuclear Palsy. This was a challenge he faced with tremendous courage.
Born August 31, 1950, in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, Craig was the eldest son of Harry B. Walton, Jr. and Thelma Hershey Walton. He was an Eagle Scout and a graduate of Manheim Township High School.
Craig was accepted by the University of Virginia to study Architecture in 1968, a year when the school was all male and students were required to wear a coat and tie to class. Craig had a mentor in Professor Carlo Pelliccia at UVA, who inspired in him a passion to draw. Post-graduation he went to the Harvard Graduate School of Design, receiving a Master of Architecture in Urban Planning degree.
In 1980 Craig won the Stedman Design Competition and was awarded the prestigious Rome Prize in Architecture. This win granted him a one-year Fellowship at the American Academy in Rome in Italy. He filled his year with travel, study, and drawing. His sketchbooks are a magnificent record of his time there.
In 1987 Craig joined RLPS Architects in Lancaster. He retired as a Partner in 2015. He was devoted to his profession and enjoyed working alongside his talented colleagues.
A person of many interests, Craig was above all devoted to his family. He said that his years as a father were among the best in his life. He enjoyed creating unique Halloween costumes and themed birthday parties. He designed and built a custom playhouse for his most important clients, his children.
Craig’s joys included architecture, gardening, sketching, historic homes and annual visits to the beach. In his later years, Craig loved the gatherings of his children, grandchildren, and siblings at the family home in New Hampshire, the site of his daughter’s wedding, family holidays and many special times.
Craig is grievously missed by his wife Virginia; son Drew and his wife Nina of Dallas, Texas; daughter Julia and her husband Jordan Kaericher, granddaughters Edith and Margaret of Los Angeles, California; his siblings Scott and Bruce Walton of Lancaster; and Beth Ranney of Southampton, New Jersey.
The earliest known codes that dealt with construction are found within the Code of Hammurabi, which dates back about 1700 years B.C. in Babylon. Since building codes deal with permanent structures that are figuratively and sometimes literally concrete, some may be surprised that today’s codes are not so absolute and clear-cut as say, a rental agreement on an apartment. In the case of old King Hammurabi, it was very definitive – should a house fall down on its owner, the builder shall be put to death! Today (thankfully) construction law is not so strictly interpreted. This may be because the industry is ever changing in terms of technology and building standards. Or it may be because there are an infinite set of conditions that may be encountered within a design that has not commonly been experienced before. Or it could be a set of existing conditions that is unique to the circumstances of a particular building project. Likely it is some combination of issues.
No matter the reasons, building codes today have a little flex to them. Actually, they have a lot of flex. In the 2015 International Building Code (the one we use in Pennsylvania at the time of this writing), the word “exception” occurs 838 times. The root word “except” without the -ion occurs another 227 times. That is astounding to consider (well, to someone like me it is, anyway).
The reason: normally, the building codes read a little like the Code of Hammurabi:
“You shall do this.”
But in over one thousand instances, you do not have to do “this”, if you do “that, and maybe another thing.” For instance, the Code says that we can only build this type of building so high…except we can go one more story if we sprinkler the building. The Code also says all spaces must have two exits…except for when the room is this small. It goes on and on like this. Exceptions are pervasive in a book that is only 729 pages long, including the cover, preface and table of contents. On average, there are about three exceptions on any two pages staring up at you. And this is just the commercial building code. There are additional codes for energy conservation, plumbing, mechanical, fuel gas and one for just existing buildings and one and two family homes, for which I have not done similar word counts.
But in all seriousness, it makes sense. In my fist example, a sprinklered building is statistically much safer than one that is not. Therefore, if provided with an automatic sprinkler system, buildings can generally be just as safe when little taller and larger than those which are not sprinklered. And, in general, it is a good idea to have two ways out of any space, but is that really necessary in a 10′ x 10′ office? No, of course that would be highly inefficient.
This is why I often need a lot more info when asked a “simple” question by one of my colleagues. This isn’t because I’m nosy, but because the answer can be drastically different if I don’t know, say, the building contains a basement or it is connected to another building into which we count on exiting. Or maybe the building contains a warehouse for fireworks and match sticks under a commercial kitchen with open flames. That last example contains obvious hyperboles, but they illustrate the point that some circumstance are far more hazardous than others, and the Codes account for that.
I am not saying building codes are as complex as corporate tax codes… but they kind of are. Although I am pretty sure I could not convince a building official that a new NFL stadium needs zero bathrooms; where a sly accountant can probably figure out how to pay zero taxes on that same stadium for the next thirty years…so maybe not.
“Nothing pleases me more than to tell you I was wrong.”
When was the last time anyone’s told you that? That was me. The words even surprised me as they rolled off my tongue. As most readers may know, I coordinate many of the code compliance aspects of the firm. I see it as my job to take the most conservative approach to any problem, unless I am told otherwise by those who have the authority to approve a more liberal approach. For that part of the practice, this tactic makes the most sense to me. That way, we do not make assumptions or promises that are not based in 100% reality.
This past week, I have had the opportunity to tell two different Clients that my initial interpretations were more conservative than necessary. I know what you’re thinking. “What’s wrong with this guy, won’t he ever learn?” I tell you what: I would not have changed a thing in my process. “Gee, is this guy stubborn, or what?” Yes, but that isn’t the reason. Please consider the following:
- Building Codes leave a lot of room for interpretation of the local authorities having jurisdiction. The code book even says as much in Chapter 1. In the first instance where I was “wrong”, we were looking to make a similar argument that has worked quite often in certain areas but did not work at all in another location fairly close to this particular project. It would have been unwise to assume the argument would work.
- Codes are a lot like those Choose Your Own Adventure books I used to read when I was a kid. Do you remember those books? At various junctures, the reader is forced to make a choice in the action. Based on that decision, the reader is directed to a different chapter, providing multiple endings in the storyline. In the second instance where I was “wrong” this week, based on choices made, I was able to choose a different outcome. The choice I made required some rather significant rework to an existing building, but once completed, multiple opportunities present themselves. The Client then gets to choose their own adventure and change the outcome of the story. To the Client, the effort was worth it in the end.
- I am built this way. I would rather prepare for the worst and hope for the best any day of the week. And if we are being honest, I would rather call you and tell you I was wrong for being too conservative than to tell you, “Hold everything, we have to undo all those decisions we made based on the loose assumptions!” I mean, in that second call, you’re thinking I am kind of a jerk, right? That first call is so much more pleasant for the both of us.
By now, you’ve probably guessed that when I read those Choose Your Own Adventure books when I was younger, I always chose the “safe” route. You’d be right. But just like real life, those writers always were sure to insert some twists that even the “safe” route caused turmoil and affected the outcome, and the submarine still hits the rocks and sinks to the murky depths of the sea. Thankfully, the writers of code books aren’t so tricky – usually.
Update to our Clients and Business Associates
In accordance with the Pennsylvania Governor’s order, RLPS Architects has temporarily closed our office building. All RLPS employees will work remotely until state and national officials indicate it is appropriate to resume physical business operations. In the interim, we will continue to provide services as follows:
- Meetings will be accommodated via web conferencing technology or rescheduled as needed.
- Email and telephone communications with project team members will continue uninterrupted.
- Calls to our main office number, 717-560-9501, will be answered by an automated attendant with a dial-by-name directory to access individual extensions. Those calls will be forwarded to the employee’s cell phone or to voicemail which will send an alert prompt.
The RLPS team remains committed to doing everything we can to keep our clients’ projects moving forward and ultimately minimize the long-term impact of this pandemic for all of us. Please contact us with any concerns or if we can assist you further at this time.
Michael J. Martin, AIA / Managing Partner
“Come out to the coast, we’ll get together, have a few laughs…”
Many will recognize this quote from the movie Die Hard from 20th Century Studios. Our protagonist, John McClane visits Nakatomi Plaza to patch things up with his wife Holly at her Christmas party. And yes, I am squarely in the camp that recognizes this movie as a Christmas movie (but that is another post, altogether). John expects to see his wife, tolerate some small talk with her colleagues, have a few drinks and maybe reconcile with his family. Instead, he finds himself barefoot in an air duct dodging shady bad guys of indeterminate national origin. I sympathize with John some days.
I replay this scene in my head more days than you would think. No; I am not an off-duty policeman. I’m just an architect. I am the kind of architect that gets the call when things aren’t working right. I quite often find myself popping ceiling tiles and access panels and shoving my head into a concealed space not intended for human occupation.
Recently, I was called out to investigate an issue with an outdoor generator by one of our oldest and dearest clients. No problem. It was kind of cold, but that was to be expected, looking at a generator in the out of doors. But as these things tend to go, there was something else the client wondered if I could take a look at, “while you’re here.” I get this a lot.
There had been a very swift cold snap recently along with some pretty high winds, and soon after, a sprinkler pipe had burst above their kitchen. It was all fixed now, but I was asked to look and see if I could tell why it happened and how to prevent it from happening in the future. While I’ve worked in many areas of their facility, our firm had not ever done any work in their kitchen, although there had been a recent kitchen fit-out and re-roofing of the area. Five minutes later, I found myself in the kitchen (with a hairnet on mind you) on a ladder, trying to carefully insert my 10 pound head through a 5 pound hole. I felt a little like John McClane…
Commercial kitchens are a funny space in so far as they have tons of heat producing appliances on one hand, and exhaust hoods that suck immense volumes of hot, moist air out of the kitchen on the other hand. In order to prevent a vacuum, similar quantities of “make up” air must be pumped into the space. This make up air is less humid and often cooler than you might expect, in order to keep the hard working staff comfortable with all the grills, boiling water and fryers. This air pressure imbalance can pull air from where you don’t want it, like directly from the outside in through tiny little air gaps. I think that is what is happening here. The highly sensitive temperature sensor that I always carry with me (the bald spot atop my 10 pound noggin) told me so.
A few years earlier, in the same building, we cut a Jim-sized hole in the wall under a stair tower so I could crawl in and see how that space was framed in order to ascertain whether some proposed alterations would work. That space had been enclosed for five decades unseen by any human; that is until I showed up. We needed to see where the columns really were, and whether the walls had enough drywall on them to be rated 2 hours. This was actually a lot easier than we thought it would be – the space was not filled with spiders, rats, alligators or shady bad guys. Plus we found the answers to all of our questions, and fairly easily. I didn’t have to crawl out of the air duct and jump across an elevator shaft to do it, either. We will leave this delightful movie inaccuracy for another post – if your elevator shaft connects to all your building’s ductwork, you have more problems than just Hans Gruber stealing your bearer bonds from your vault!
Life as a college student in the late twentieth century could leave you a little disconnected from society. See, most people didn’t have cell phones, the internet was essentially in its infancy, and heck, we didn’t even have cable TV most of the time I was in college. Maybe someone could pick up the local radio station, but mostly people’s boom boxes blasted competing musical genres from CD’s. Life as an architecture student was even more isolated. I would go days without seeing my roommates, as we spent most of our time in studio. We actually drew on paper and had to do that outside of our 8 foot by 8 foot dorm rooms.
Our kind (architecture students) would miss entire world events sequestered away at our drafting tables. I remember, or rather fail to remember, the following events:
The October 1993 deaths of 18 US soldiers in Somalia
The February 1993 bombing of the World Trade Center
The November 1994 death of Tupac
The April 1995 Bombing of the Federal Building in Oklahoma City
You’d think there was no good news in the early 90’s. But it seems that nearly all of these times corresponded with a massive design critique in architecture school. World events were of secondary concern.
The same was true of holidays. In 1996, I should have had my first Valentine’s Day with the woman who is now my wife. Nay Nay. Turns out, our professors decided that we should spend the holiday with them working on our thesis for the last major critique prior to completion. Lucky for me, my girlfriend was in architecture too. Convenient, right? So we decided to celebrate the day after Valentine’s Day.
In somewhat related circumstances, after 10 semesters worth of tuition, we decided to limit our gifts to each other to ten dollars. After some well-deserved sleep, and an overdue shower and shave, I went over to my girlfriend’s apartment. Most everyone else who celebrated the holiday had already done so by this time, but I had a small bundle of goodies to share with my honey. When I say bundle, I mean a plastic bag from the convenience store I stopped at on the way over. Romantic, huh? Go ahead, you jump to your conclusion and see how you feel in the next paragraph…
When we met up, we each held our “gifts” behind our backs. On the count of three, we exchanged them like hostages. I reached into the bag I received and found nearly identical chocolate treats to those I had purchased. We looked at each other, laughed, and realized that we both bought candy the day after Valentine’s Day at a heavily discounted price! That makes the chocolate even sweeter to me, and I might add that my wife regularly looks for day-after-the-holiday goodies to this day. Continuing on to the card, we each had added a scratch off lottery ticket to the other’s envelope.
In the end, love overcomes all, including mean old architecture professors. Consequently, my wife and I continue to limit our Valentine’s Day spending to $20 (we adjusted for inflation).
Woodcrest Villa residents were treated to a photo tour of local architecture featuring C. Emlen Urban a well-known figure who designed many noteworthy Lancaster buildings, along with a mystery architect with a much shorter, but still impressive stint designing buildings in and around Lancaster. Presented by Gregg Scott, FAIA, Partner Emeritus, this three-part series sheds light on many of the back-stories behind the buildings we see today, as well as a few structures that were not able to stand the test of time for various reasons.
I was lucky enough to attend the Twenty-Third Annual Westford Symposium on Building Science – also known as Summer Camp. It was a truly informative experience and, as the title suggests, it touched on many subjects relating to building science. Plus there is a really great barbecue and picnic at the organizer’s home. But is wasn’t all about R-values and air leakage, though. While the symposium covered many topics I expected; like humidity, air-tightness and unvented roofs, it also touched on several other topics that were unexpected (to me anyway).
The one session that maybe struck me with that “duh, why didn’t I think of that” moment, was called, “Architectural Compactness and Hot Water Systems: Good Design Lowers Cost”. Now, I know what you’re thinking – with a title like this, how could you go wrong? But here’s the thing: I’ve thought about this session every time I touch a sink faucet since.
Whether in public buildings, apartments or houses: the faucet is usually really far away from the hot water source. Your second floor bathroom can be on the far side of the house and the hot water heater is located in the garage or mechanical closet, or even the basement. Even if the hot water source happens to be on the same floor as the faucet, the pipes have to run up in to the floor or ceiling, then run horizontally to the wet wall, then up or down again, before it sees daylight. Prior to any hot water reaching your hands, that pipe has to clear a huge volume of cold water that is already in the trunk and branches.
In the study done by the presenter, it found that 80 to 90 percent of the water draws in a typical residence were from the faucet, so let’s concentrate on that for a moment. In the 1980’s the typical faucet in a home used 3.5 gpm (gallons per minute). Today, the worst you can do by code is 2.2 gpm and most efficient faucets are closer to 1.2 gpm. So even though faucet efficiency has improved drastically since the 1980’s (about 66%), we are still wasting a lot of energy down the drain. We are just waiting for it to get hot!
Everybody washes their hands, right? Well, they should, anyway. The CDC (Center for Disease Control) says you have to wash your hands with soap and water for at least 20 seconds. For the record, the CDC recommends singing the “Happy Birthday” song from beginning to end twice. I wish I had known that earlier, because anyone with kids has probably heard their kids turn on the water long enough to only get through “Happy Birthday to y….” & done. But I digress…
While much of the session was focused on how to keep the “wet” rooms closer to the source. Clearly, we designers can and should learn to do better. But the clearest takeaway for me was this: we wash our hands a lot. Our faucets are usually a single lever, as they are accessible, convenient and easier to change the temperature. If our levers are positions in the “neutral” position (half hot, half cold), and we turn it on 60-100 times a day and run it to wash our hands, we are wasting a lot of hot water!
If we run our faucet for the recommended 20 seconds (minimum, I hope), there is almost no way in most houses (or offices or public restrooms for that matter) that the water will be hot by the time we are done washing our hands. The water already in the pipe is unheated. I know in my house it can take a minute or more for hot water to reach my second story bathroom faucet. An eternity.
But if my faucet is drawing hot water as well as cold when washing my hands, I’ve wasted a lot of energy to heat water that will never touch my hands. By the time the next person touches that faucet, the water I heated in the pipe line will have cooled off because the copper in most houses is not insulated. By simply turning the faucet lever all the way to the right, I use only cold water to wash my hands. No energy wasted.
I came home from Summer Camp all excited about this revelation. There is an obstacle. People (the people I know, anyway) don’t like it when the faucet lever isn’t lined up and nice and straight. My wife, for one, was not impressed. There is a compromise now! In addition to the water efficient faucet, I am told that faucets that will only draw cold water when the lever is straight up and down unless you push it to the left while the water is on are on their way to the market. That way you can leave the lever nice and straight, and not waste that energy.
By the way, the CDC doesn’t care if the water is hot or cold, so unless you have a medical condition, why not use cold?