The House of Arden, Part 3 – Design, A mid-winter dream

The first two parts of this series describe the goal and provide highlights of the  analysis done prior to designing the House of Arden. The design, here, is presented from the perspective of someone visiting the house for the very first time – portrayed in the form of a written narrative. Please come along as I venture to the House of Arden.

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As I drive south on highway 52 toward Cannon Falls from Minneapolis, I begin thinking and wondering about the adventure I have begun. You see, I received an invitation to the House of Arden. Each year architects from the region are invited to attend a workshop at the House of Arden. I received my invitation, but am unable to attend; however, I was given an opportunity for a quick personal tour.

It's early spring, and the farm fields along the highway are in early preparation for planting with dark furrows of soil contrasting with the dull green-brown of the roadside. The trees are just starting to bud out, and it is really a wonderful early spring morning.

I have been to Cannon Falls before, bicycling with the family, and I have driven past many times on my way to Rochester and other southeast Minnesota destinations – like Lanesboro to visit my daughter. So, I am somewhat familiar with the area. As I arrive at Cannon Falls and follow the driving directions to the house, I suddenly realize that I am driving alongside part of the Cannon Valley Trail as some familiar sights come into view. Then I round a corner and go over a small rise, and realize that the road seems to end at a "T" intersection. I pull the car over to the curb and stop, wondering if I have passed by the address. Just then I notice the house on the northwest corner of the "T." The street there is lined with flowering crabs that look to be in the peak of bloom. I can see other fruit trees also blooming in the back yard. The back and side yards look like they are made up into a series of interconnected terraced gardens, which are not yet in production, except maybe some cold crops, onions, lettuce, and peas, showing some feathery spring green just emerging from the cool soil. I then notice a couple of darker green patches, which could be rhubarb, Egyptian onion, and chives, which are the first ones to greet us in the spring vegetable garden.

From this vantage point, I am able to pause and examine the rear and side of the house. There is a blue standing-seam steel roof that is glistening in the late-morning sunlight, creating a roofline that has just enough complexity to create interest. The main roof has a dormer facing the south at the front of the house, but otherwise the roof runs east to west. There is a two-story main house with a one-story addition put on between the house and the two-car garage. The garage has two separate doors, and looks deeper than a standard garage, perhaps to accommodate a workroom space, and there is an entry from the garden at the northwest corner and a covered side entry near the garage.

Convinced that this must be the right house, I jolt the car forward. As I pass the side of the house, I notice that the blooming crab apple trees are not anchored in a grassy boulevard, as I had anticipated, but in what looks like a thick mat of wild strawberries with its already green leaves softening the concrete curb and tendrils gently flow into the street. Rounding the corner in front of the house, I notice that the landscape takes a sharp dip, revealing the base of the front porch, which I notice, wraps around to the north side of the house as I turn the corner. I then turn the car around, so that I can park in front of the house.

I get out of the car and gaze at the front of the house. It has a late 19^th or early 20^th century look to it. It speaks to the Victorian era, but with simple lines and simple ornamentation on the upper bay window – unfussy but elegant. The sidewalk leading to the front door starts centered on the house, but meanders to the front door, which is to the left of center, moved over to make space for a large bay window. The middle window has an upper section that is adorned with stained glass. The crocus-lined sidewalk then leads to three wide steps that direct me up onto the porch. The porch floor is of tongue and groove construction; a grey composite decking that goes well with the blue lap siding and white trim. As I climb the steps, my eyes naturally gaze up at the front door, but then my attention is distracted by the porch swing to the left of the door suspended from the varnished bead board porch ceiling with chains. As I pause at the top of the steps, I can imagine a Norman Rockwell painting of a young couple sitting in the swing, holding hands, while anxious parents peer through the window from behind.

I approach the front door and reach for the doorbell below a carriage light. Within moments, someone opens the door and greets me, "We've been expecting you. Welcome to the House of Arden."

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The Mid-Winter Dream continues with a tour of the upper level of the house.

© 2006, Gary L. Engstrom