More than shelter: good design matters most to those who need it most Residential Architect

August, 2005 by Meghan Drueding, Nigel F. Maynard

Imagine designing a home for a client who may be deaf, blind, or mobility-impaired–you’re not sure which. The residence has to fit into a tiny space, say 250 square feet, and must be easy to duplicate 10, 50, or 100 times over. Before the permitting process even starts, you know the project will elicit passionate community opposition. You might have to rely on an intermediary to communicate the client’s preferences, and you’ll need to search out durable, long-lasting materials that require little maintenance. Oh, and the budget is infinitesimal. Welcome to the world of special-needs housing. A subset of standard affordable housing, specialneeds encompasses users including the physically or mentally disabled, the homeless, battered women, recovering drug addicts or alcoholics, and people with HIV or AIDS. Some of these categories overlap; the homeless, for example, are three times more likely than other people to contract HIV. Many special-needs communities are designated for just one user type, while others, like those funded by HUD’s Section 811 program, must accommodate multiple needs in each unit. The housing can be permanent or transitional, scattered-site or in one location, for single people or families, strictly residential or mixed-use. When a special-needs project also provides services such as counseling or medical care, it becomes known as supportive housing. sensitive side The architects designing special-needs housing are as varied a bunch as the residents themselves. Well-known California firms such as Pytaok Architects, Studio E Architects, and David Baker Partners came to it from doing straight-up affordable housing. Seniors housing represents another closely related field, because elderly residents often suffer from physical or cognitive impairments. Some practitioners have more of a health-care background, including New York City architect Roberta Washington, AIA, who specialized in hospitals before designing several supportive housing projects. And others arrive at special-needs through their own personal situations. Erick Mikiten, AIA, of Berkeley, Calif., can relate to the physical and emotional needs of wheelchair users particularly well, because he’s one himself. “A lot of the things I’ve learned are through seeing my own experience,” he says. “Like washing dishes and having the water dripping down my arm because the sink is too high

Whatever the firm’s history, designing special-needs housing challenges its empathy for future residents. Often they’re moving from an unstable or inhospitable living environment, and subtle design nuances can have a major impact on their well-being. Berkeley firm Jacobson Silverstein Winslow/Degenhardt incorporates porches and terraces for smokers into its housing for the mentally ill. “Smoking tends to be a big thing among the mentally disturbed,” says partner Barbara Winslow. “It’s a way of containing the pressure for a lot of people.” John Dickinson, AIA, a deaf architect based in Boulder, Colo., emphasizes sightlines in his housing for the hearing impaired, in addition to the more typical lighting and vibrations that tell residents when a phone, doorbell, or alarm is ringing. “The housing is more open and airy than usual,” he says. “There are no columns that will block the visual aesthetics.” And at Inglis Gardens, housing for physically disabled adults in Philadelphia, architect Nancy Bastian of Cecil Baker & Associates added angled mirrors above all the cooktops so residents can see into pots on the stove. Even basic, universally desirable features such as natural light, fresh air, and places to socialize take on new shades of meaning with special-needs residents, who tend to spend more time at home than the average person. Light and air combat the depression that often accompanies illness and homelessness. Welcoming public spaces give those who are down on their luck the opportunity to meet others who have been through similar experiences. “The social aim is to create places where people can develop relationships,” says Richard Harris, executive director of Central City Concern in Portland, Ore., which owns and manages housing for recovering addicts and other special-needs populations. “In a recovery, one of the main things is getting rid of the bad friends and getting hooked up with solid people who will help you.” money talks The list of clever, effective design elements architects have created for special-needs projects goes on and on. But, as with all affordable housing, the specter of a tight budget constantly looms. In order to eke out money for such worthwhile extras as well-landscaped courtyards or comfortable common room furniture, architects must think of ways to conserve funds somewhere else. And they do. “Every dollar does count, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do certain things,” says Dennis Langley, AIA, of Weese Langley Weese in Chicago. “You try to make a very efficient plan, and you use a lot of color and texture.” His firm often varies the colors of brick on their buildings to provide architectural detail without adding cost. At the Lyon Building, a widely admired renovation in Seattle for homeless people with HIV/AIDS and other health problems, locally based architects MITHUN made the most of the existing building. “Under layers of carpet we found beautiful mosaic and hardwood floors,” says Leslie Moldow, AIA, a principal at MITHUN. “They’re very durable, and we didn’t have to go to institutional vinyl.” For the award-winning SRO Chelsea Court in New York City, architect Louise Braverman, AIA, took the initiative, driving to Costco to find folding tables for each unit and coaxing a friend to donate artwork.