“Time to draw the architect shields. They’re out there; I can smell them.”
Sounds like a comment from one of the tinfoil-hat-wearing crowd, doesn’t it? But no, this was Paul, at about 9:45 this evening. What, you may wonder, was he talking about?
Six years ago, Paul and I bought a turn-of-the-last-century Craftsman-ish house in a neighborhood of beautiful old houses. We’ve spent many hours since then walking around our neighborhood, admiring or lamenting the things that our fellow homeowners have done to their houses. Sometimes we walk the neighborhood with visiting family or friends; other times it’s just the two of us. Landscaping, additions, paint colors are all fair game; we will observe and critique whatever we can see.
Well, almost all of it.
We particularly like to walk during that time in a Seattle summer day when softly-lit evening is slowly fading to cool night. There’s enough light left in the sky to see where you’re walking, but not enough to provide light inside the houses. People turn on their lights, but they don’t yet close their curtains.
For me, an uncurtained window on a brightly lit room is tantamount to an invitation to look. Our neighbors’ bungalows are in various states of preservation, and I’m fascinated to see which houses have original built-ins, tiled fireplaces or period light fixtures, what colors people are painting their interiors (who knew that red was so popular for dining rooms?), whether they’ve stripped or painted their woodwork, or are fortunate to still have the original finish. I will stand on the sidewalk, looking into a house, and talk with my walking companions about whatever we see.
But not Paul! Oh no, he is horrified by this behavior. It disturbs his sense of propriety that I will stand on the sidewalk in front of someone else’s house and peer in without their permission. Isn’t leaving the curtains open de facto permission? Paul doesn’t think so.
We’ve tried to understand this difference between us. Is it a Yankee/Southern thing? Is my willingness to look, like my comfort with walking onto any construction site that I see (the legacy of childhood construction-site visits with my father), part of an architect’s sense of entitlement, which Paul does not share? Whatever the reasons, this has become a joke between us, in which I am the voyeur and Paul the privacy nut.
When we bought our house, the window coverings on the huge living room windows were ugly (and very dusty) gray cellular fabric shades. They had to go. For almost three years, there were no window coverings on our living room windows. Nighttime passersby could see right into our front hall and living room. This didn’t bother me, except when I wanted to go downstairs without bothering to get dressed. Eventually we found fabric and rods that we liked, we had curtains made, and we installed them. Most evenings, Paul closes the curtains. The reflection of lights off the golden yellow fabric adds a warm glow to the room.
On this particular midsummer evening, as the light faded slowly from the sky, Paul considered that there might be architects out there, walking past our house, and pausing to look in. “Time to draw the architect shields,” he joked, and pulled the curtains on the view into our house.
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You came by your attitude about an “open window policy” honestly. Many homeowners in Houston leave lights on and curtains open (if they have them at all) in front rooms in the interest of home security… a stranger could be seen by neighbors or the patrol service. We chose that policy for our house in College Station, which resulted in great concern by some of the neighbors. The lady across the street, whose rooms have probably never seen the light of day, asked our painter when we were going to put up curtains. He told her we liked the rooms without curtains. A youngster who walked by the house every day on her way to school asked me one day if I had a wife. The she asked if she was in a wheelchair. Through the living room windows she could see the curved chrome arms of our Mies van der Rohe lounge chairs, and thought they must be wheelchairs!
We did get a folding screen to put in front of our bedroom windows during the winter when the trees did not provide adequate privacy. That room was a great example of pattern #38 “Sleeping to the East” from A Pattern Language. Waking up to sunlight streaming through the uncovered windows was wonderful!
Your photo banner of Lyra and her shadow is perfect for the topic. It reminds me of the lyrics of an old song, “just me and my shadow, walking down the avenue”.
I love to look into people’s houses, too. And their lives. Hence the love of blogs.
Just saying Hi via Musings of a Middle Aged Woman. Nice site. Loved the pictures. Painted people bicylce naked there?!
Just stopping in to say that I love your new look on this blog, especially the cats at the top. What gorgeous photos!
It’s an interesting problem, but if you’re maintaining a classic facade you pretty much have to do what it says.
It’s harder than it looks to design for privacy, light and view with windows. When you add the lo-cost change ability of a curtain, it becomes easier than it looks.
Maybe the best solution is a false front facing the street, and a building that becomes progressively Mondrian towards the alley.
That’s a fairly popular style in Seattle.
I love walking in my neighborhood when its dark and catching glimpses of people’s books. Its on of my favorite things to do.
One evening this week we were sitting in the study with a glass of wine while ITom watched TV and I put together a file (curtains open of course). Walter, a neighbor from the next street walked by pulling his younger child in a wagon while the older one rode her bicycle. He waved to us as he walked by, and we waved back. I guess had we had a front porch and the temperature had been 20 degrees cooler, we might have been out there. As it was, it felt very neighborly. Just my southern roots I guess. B
To be honest, I’m a bit horrified by it too. That’s one of the things I hated about livining in town - having to keep the curtains closed all the time. When I did have the curtains open and caught someone looking in I always wanted to go out and ask them what the heck they thought they were doing but usually I just went to the window, gave them the dirtiest look I could manage and closed the curtains.
I’m with you, Kimberly — if the curtains are open, go ahead and look. But I fear my neighbour across the courtyard feels differently. I have nothing to hide, so if you want to comment on my paint choices or light fixtures, be my guest. I do have to keep reminding myself to stay fully clothed though.
Like many who have commented, I rather enjoy peeking into other people’s living rooms. If the curtains are open and the lights are on- it’s like a painting- there to be seen.
I enjoy seeing how people decorate their spaces, I also take time to notice the landscaping- to see if I can find inspirartion for my own property.