How designing a home can become deeply meaningful - Guest post by Jo Petroni

How to create a meaningful exchange as an architect with prospective home buyers

Nov 10, 2022

I met Jo thanks to an impromptu group of Substack writers who were interested in connecting and sharing. Many of us in the group have a shared interest in the art of conversation. I am so thankful for the diversity of opinions and angles that have come out of this association. With Jo, I was fascinated by the idea of how a discussion about your ideal home can be linked to your very nature, what’s important to you. I have long used the concept of drawing a home (sketch) as a primitive way to understand oneself and to help project ourselves into the future. In this article, Jo describes how she teases out the real meaning behind a client’s project. And, I’m sure you’d enjoy checking out her work on sustainable architecture, called ‘permarchitecture.’

People are in a hurry. They know what they want. They have a project. It's gonna be grand. Their new house, together. They have a list of requirements.

Some architects will take that list of requirements and get to work, no questions asked. They will work their way through the project's needs, checking all the boxes of 1) clients requests, 2) budget and 3) law, trying at the same time to put the stamp of their own signature style into the mix.

I don't. I start by stalling. By taking a deep breath. By slowing them down.

I start by exploring their lives with curiosity and sincerity. By understanding them better and, most of all, by listening.

I ask them why.

“Can you tell me more about why you say you want four bedrooms?”

“Well, we have one son who might live with us and the sister of my wife comes to visit sometimes and also my daughter from my first marriage ... And there's us of course!”

First steps always look like this. A bit awkward and nosy. I then proceed to dig my way deeper into the lives of my clients, uncovering layer upon layer of disconnect between their wants and their needs. That is where it gets interesting.

Our true selves

The reasons behind us wanting certain features when designing our home have deep anchors in the way we see ourselves in the world and in nature. The subconscious relationship we have with the outside is reflected in the way we instinctively build our houses. Some might be more introverted and instinctively want a house that keeps them apart from the rest of society. Others might be the type who want a large porch in front of a friendly neighborhood street, with a bench to sit on in the evenings and get into chats with every passerby. Others still might be poets or artists who need nature at the center of their lives as well as throwing outrageous parties.

Figuring out what exactly it is we need is not always an easy task. Matching the personalities of all of the members of a family in an acceptable way makes things harder still. And so again I ask them why, to get to the bottom of surface statements such as "we need four bedrooms".

Imagine your ideal home is already built. What do you do in it on any given day? What does the place smell like? What colors are there around you? Sounds?

Then deeper still:

What does it make you feel like? Do you feel powerful, alone, smart, classy, proud? Or maybe sheltered, safe, sleepy, balanced?

Ego trip

But there is something else at play here. The cultural imprint, what the perfect-house-of-dreams looked like when we were kids, the cool new kitchen we saw in a magazine. The ego. Having the newest coolest house in the neighborhood can be as much of an ego trip as any other purchase. People seem to need to compare themselves with the members of their community in order to know how they rank. The fashion of the day will dictate what type of bedroom layout will be chosen.

Facing each choice with an open heart can help us make the difference between what we really need and what we think we need.

Why is that choice important to you? What does it mean?

Future life of bliss

Then there is the projection of the future lives we will be living in this beautiful house that we're building for ourselves and our family. We want to be happy and surrounded by the ones we love. We want everyone to be safe, healthy, wealthy and happy. We project all of these plans onto the house, which in turn becomes a receptacle for these hopes and wants. And so it has to be a certain way. Otherwise the magic will not hold. The children will not stay close, Christmas will be spent alone, our stocks will crash and we will be miserable.

Nobody wants that for their future selves. And so we avoid projecting for it. We only see ourselves as better. Always better. More money, good health, surrounded by our extended family. The new house is a problem fixer.

The new house will be so good that even your oldest, who doesn't really speak to you anymore, will come back and live happily with you here.

Since you will be making more and more money in the coming years and decades, the house will need to be big and high maintenance. At least more high maintenance than your old house.

Since you will be healthy until you're eighty (you've just taken up jogging), you don't need a downstairs bedroom and bathroom.

Since the children are all grown up, you don’t need a rail on your fancy staircase.

And on and on, all the way to the tiny choices of materials and fixtures and furniture, all visions of a blissful future.

What is the likeliest, most honest projection of your future? If you don’t know, that’s OK.

Notice we're getting deeper and more intimate conversations as we progress.

Our footprint

People who are connected to nature are more likely to get involved in protecting it from harm. Making houses that insulate us from our surroundings only cuts that connection. We forget that every choice we make has an impact and start seeing nature as a resource, not as a beloved.

Making a house will be one of the most impactful things you’ll do. From the amount of concrete you decide to use to the life cycle carbon impact of your insulation material or the toxicity of the paint and furniture wax, you need to be aware of the negative and positive consequences of each choice.

That can seem daunting and outright anxiety-inducing, I know. It is nonetheless a discussion we need to have with an open heart.

What is the nature of the impact you want to have on your surroundings?

A home from the inside out, and from the outside in

The next element in deciding upon home design and layout is defining our own relationship with the outside world. The way we build our homes is a direct reflection of our perceived relationship with nature and, in a way, the universe. "Why are we here and what is the purpose of it all" can have a direct impact on your living room layout! And nature has a say in that.

Everything is not all Sims pixels laid out into nothingness. The way the wind blows, the line of the Sun changing throughout the day and the year, the sounds of a place. All of these things we call the outside. Judiciously placing and designing a house in its surroundings is a lost art. For we feel the need lately to insulate ourselves from nature, close ourselves up and put the thermostat on.

Yet, if we see ourselves - again, I dare say - in a symbiotic relationship with the world around us, we can start listening to the way the wind blows and hearing the leaves fall from the poplar tree and finally really be in the place we will be building our home in. Genius loci the philosophers call it, the Spirit of the place.

When did you last listen to the rustle of the poplar trees?

In dialogue with nature

And if you listen well enough, the place will speak to you and let you know what needs to be done. It will guide you towards balance and you will have a relationship. That is the most meaningful conversation of all, the dialogue with nature that we have every day.

As an architect, you would think my dialogue with nature is contractual. I need to build in the best, most efficient way possible and that means insulating the inside from the out.

But in my view, to take best advantage of the land, I first need to listen to it.

As we are now slowly figuring out, we need to be better to nature that we have grown used to. Our society relies on a complete and utter disregard for nature's needs. We build (and build) without considering the different microclimates and "genius loci" places have.

We make highly insulated boxes for living, like giant thermoses with a breathing tube, that we place wherever we want. We stamp the land with them, disregarding both the way we influence the place and the way it influences us.

What does Nature need from us in order to maintain the balance that sustains us?

Letting nature guide us

But nature doesn't mind. It will not be resentful. The moment you start listening to her, with a sincere and open heart, she will answer and guide you. It will tell you that this particular spot is prone to getting wet in the spring and that frogs live in the puddles.

That wind blows hard from the valley in the evenings. Hiding the house behind that range of trees might help protect it from the cold it brings.

That rain pours down this way and that. If you want you can collect it here and here and make a garden below.

That the morning sun is full of joy and warmth, especially in the autumn. You might want to place your bedroom towards that joy.

Making a house is a journey of the soul in relationship with oneself, the others, society and nature. My job is to guide people towards that truth by asking the real questions and having meaningful conversations that dig deep, layer by layer.

Jo Petroni is an architect and illustrator who specializes in bioclimatic, biophilic and participatory design. She lives in rural South of France with her husband and her dog. There’s a linden tree outside her window and a robin lives nearby.

She writes Jo’s Epistolary of Imaginary Friends.