Is organic architecture the godfather of sustainable architecture?
Well, not entirely, but one could argue that the tenets of organic design and architecture support a sustainably designed structure. At its roots, organic design involves a deep respect for nature, and, in many cases, taking cues from nature to inform the design. But the true definition of organic is somewhat nebulous.
For some, organic architecture is the belief that a structure should appear to grow easily from the site; for others, it’s an architectural style rooted in nature’s forms and principles in which one might try to replicate biological systems in the design.
Of course, the term sustainable architecture is equally as hazy, but in large part, it’s a practice more focused on a building’s energy efficiency, use of renewable resources, and carbon impact.
Where organic architecture is typically informed by the surrounding environment and, in most cases, considers the impact on the ecology, it’s not necessarily integrating technologies that could make it more efficient or reduce its consumption. The latter would fall more into the sustainable design category.
Instead, organic focuses on assimilating with the surrounding environment. Some also take an ecological design approach in which they consider the area’s biotic (living factors like plants, animals, and bacteria) and abiotic factors (non-living factors like water, soil, air, and light) and how those might impact the design and vice versa.
Nevertheless, all three of these practices––organic, ecological, and sustainable––have a strong tie to Mother Nature and a proclivity for preservation. And for some architects, it’s the genuine love and respect for nature and the challenge of designing within its parameters that drew them to the profession.
Enter, Craig Wickersham.
Craig is a storied architect in Arizona––often referred to as a desert modernist. Spend any amount of time with him, and it’s abundantly clear just how passionate he is about architecture. It’s in his nature, and it was something he tapped into at a very early age.
Craig drew, permitted, and had his first design built at the age of 14. He began working at an architecture firm while in high school and later went on to study at Taliesen West, Frank Lloyd Wright’s famed school in Arizona. It was here that the principles of organic architecture were forever emblazoned in his design approach.
“Organic is the way to go,” Craig said. “My whole attraction to architecture came from the study of, first, the site. And in talking about the desert in Arizona as a springboard for beauty, you walk a property like this before there’s anything on it other than what God put there.”
The property he’s referring to is a site he’s developing for a client at the base of Pinnacle Peak, a granite summit in the Arizona Sonoran Desert, just north of the Phoenix city limits. It’s a special area that’s home to countless species of desert wildlife, not to mention saguaro cacti that, in many cases, are older than most humans. And before any potential design concepts were even discussed, Craig took the time to first understand the ecosystem of the area––approaching the project from a mindset of respect for, and preservation of, the surrounding desert.
While Craig may not practice sustainable architecture in terms of LEED standards or carbon impact reductions, his approach is rooted first and foremost in the philosophies of organic architecture and a sincere love for the land and its ecosystem.
“Part of the education I have from my youth was a big attraction to Frank Lloyd Wright’s philosophy,” he said. “The philosophy of working with what’s there, which is exactly in accord with not destroying everything with a giant bulldozer, but being careful about how you build on a site. That was his respect for nature. He would say, ‘capital N’––Nature.”
You could say Frank Lloyd Wright wrote the book on organic architecture––and he actually did. In that book, published in 1939, he declared “organic architecture to be the modern ideal and the teaching so much needed if we are to see the whole of life, and to now serve the whole of life.”
Wright’s philosophies on organic architecture stemmed from the teachings of his mentor, architect Louis Sullivan, who is well known for his belief that “form follows function.” Wright, however, suggested that form and function were one and that every building should grow naturally from its environment––taking cues from the surrounding ecosystem. Organic architecture to him was all about the symbiotic relationship between the site and structure and the context and the structure––it was about creating a coherent whole.
“There was a period of Industrial Revolution where everything was just destroyed––get out of the way nature,” Craig said. “Now we’re coming back to appreciating it. From my perspective, having a client who’s willing to go through the pain of very carefully nitpicking a site, crafting a location and preserving everything around it, which is extremely expensive, is very special.”
This idea of preservation started well before design and construction began. Craig helped his clients site the house and luckily, they aligned on the “preservation” approach. And in the name of preservation, Craig suggested they consider buying the neighboring properties to protect and preserve the surrounding area––a core characteristic of organic architecture.
Once they did, they turned it over to Craig to develop. But it came with one caveat: they wanted a round house. Naturally, as any creative type might be, Craig was excited about the challenge and the opportunity, but also wanted to practice restraint.
“The very first round drawings I did, within the realm of what I could’ve done, I tried to be respectful because the magnitude of opportunity lends itself to a much grander expression,” he said. “Having restraint, discipline, and respect for the property to preserve it means condensing.”
During the design and programming phase, Craig also had to consider some of the inefficiencies that can come with designing a curvilinear structure in a world where most building materials are made for linear forms. Building materials aside, however, designing round can bring an equal number of efficiencies.
In fact, toward the end of his career, Frank Lloyd Wright designed more than a dozen circular residences, not to mention the spiraling Guggenheim Museum in New York City. Part of this was his desire to “abolish the box,” but building round also decreases dead space, helps diffuse wind, and is more conducive to natural lighting. Of course, as architect Antoni Gaudi pointed out, straight lines don’t exist in nature.
But, in the practical sense, Craig admits it’s not always the most cost-effective.
“In the modern world of technology in which everything is made by a machine, it’s very expensive to have a round house,” he said. “Anything that makes a break from the industrial structure is very costly. This will probably be the most expensive house I’ve ever done mostly because everything is curved. But the efficiencies in this house are really strong.”
The obvious inefficiency is attempting to conform linear building materials into a curved design. But Craig and his team found ways around it. And he leaned on the surrounding environment to bring in more of the curvilinear design.
“The presentation will be a lot like a big sweeping curve, like the natural desert,” he said. “And that fits into the boulders around here.”
See the full interview here.
That tie-in with the boulders is very intentional. In fact, there’s intention behind every inch of this home, from the curvilinear design to the boulder placement to the shape, size and location of the windows.
“An organic structure is part of the site,” Craig said. “All of these curving walls go right into the site. Boulders will come out of the building. They’ll be in the building, in the columns and on the ground. The boulders are part of the site and were part of it before we got here. We had to move them and we’re going to put them back. When this is done, it’s going to be part of the organic landscape. That relationship is the ideal goal.”
Relationship is a driving force in Craig’s design approach. It’s about the symbiotic relationship between his client, the home and the surrounding ecosystem. To understand what that relationship will look like, he spends time on the site, building a connection with it first. This also helps him understand how he can design for the least amount of impact to the land.
“Every big home or structure is going to be a birth and in that process, there’s a lot of savagery on the site,” he said. “To do that in the least destructive way is our goal. So there’s that level of sustainability in the design of the home. How do we keep it impact free as much as we can, working with the property? This was a very difficult lot on pristine desert with mountains of boulders on it. It’s one of the most unique pieces of property in the entire city. The gifts it provides and the nature of that beauty are things that I recognized immediately. So, my conversations with this owner were in recognition of this unique treasure that could become something more for them and their family and the legacy of their life.”
Designing a family legacy is no easy feat, and when there are acres and acres of blank land and near endless possibilities even in terms of where the house will be situated, where does one start?
Of course, there were some parameters guiding Craig’s approach to conceptualization––preservation, the client’s wants, needs and desires, etc.––but overall, he’s primarily thinking about the type of experience people will have from the moment they arrive and as they journey through the home. The owners, by the way, appropriately refer to this home as Xanadu. Perhaps because of its idyllic and opulent nature.
“There is an arrival experience in which, as guests are driving up to the property they’re seeing glimpses of this house in the distance,” he said. “It will become very clear that you’re arriving to something interesting. You’ll see the mountain in the background and this curving, interesting building between the foliage––it looks like a boulder. I wanted people to arrive to this experience in a very circuitous way, and always be in connection with this giant mountain. We’ve put boulders everywhere so we brought the mountain right down to the site.”
In this way, as Craig put it, they are reintegrating the house with the site. And guests, and the homeowners, get to experience the natural desert within reach.
“It’s there in the distant view and now it’s right there in your presence,” he said. “That’s an important part of my design process––reconnecting the person with the desert––with this site, and trying to do it in a way that’s respectful. So it’s very minimal impact.”
As Craig starts to illustrate what one will experience as they move through this space, he’s overwhelmed with emotion. There’s joy and passion in his heart and even a few tears in his eyes––and if he hadn’t already made it clear just how much he cares, that moment solidified it. He cares about the specialness of this place and creating an experience that will connect others to it––uplifting them in the process.
“Engaging people in a lyrical way is about creating that drama, passion and mystery,” he said. “That’s the reason people go to the Grand Canyon, to experience, ‘What is it?!’ So I created a miniature canyon that goes under the house and all the way through it. That is going to be a really wonderful space.”
In echoing the natural beauty that surrounds the home and the sense of discovery you experience journeying through the desert, Craig wants the house to become another discovery.
“You’re constantly wandering through this discovery,” he said. “That makes it exciting and interesting. It’s always about presenting these mysteries and surprise Easter eggs.”
