Architectural Follies
Serena Fenton -- School Library Journal, 2/1/1999
The normally composed librarian was hopping mad. "That architect is such a moron," she sputtered, her face red with indignation. "There are so many windows in our library, I don't have shelf space for all of the books. And the checkout desk is in the worse possible place, at the other end of the room, away from my office." She gave the nearby desk a resounding thwack. "I can't work in a place like that," she fumed, "and it's a brand-new library." Without skipping a beat, a chorus of colleagues took up the tirade, each recounting a tale of architectural ineptitude.
As a former architect, I thought it best to maintain a low profile. I was attending a graduate seminar on library media centers at the University of North Carolina School of Information and Library Science, in Chapel Hill, and my classmates, most of whom were working librarians, seemed like they might turn into a lynch mob, given the slightest provocation.
"Who okayed the architectural design?" I finally ventured, careful to avoid eye contact.
"Well, I sure didn't," replied the chorus. "No one asked me anything. I would have set them straight."
I'd like to say that this sort of enmity between librarians and architects is an aberration, as infrequent as a sighting of Halley's comet. But I'd be lying. I've heard similar refrains more often than I'd care to admit.
Still, I wondered. Why do librarians and architects have such a tough time working together? And why are librarians so often disappointed and frustrated with the end results? More important, how can the two professions work together to create what they both really want: an efficient, aesthetically pleasing library where customers (and staff) feel at home.
A moment later, while still surrounded by a pack of angry librarians, I had an epiphany of sorts: what we had here was a failure to communicate. If librarians understood how to communicate their needs to architects-understood the design process and what architects are about-chances are, more libraries would be built that librarians would quickly love, instead of loathe.
That said, I offer a strategy for creating the library of your dreams. Is it foolproof? I wish. But the strategy does offer an overview of the discrete stages through which all architectural projects pass. (There are five of them.) And I've provided tried-and-true tips for working with architects that will increase your likelihood of ending up with a library you'll be happy to call your professional home.
As somebody who has straddled both worlds-the world of design and now the world of libraries, as a technology specialist who helps children, school media specialists, and teachers grapple with cyberspace-I'm convinced that if we libraryfolk truly want to make our libraries better places, we need to understand where, when, and how to make our ideas heard. We need to be involved in the architectural process-the sooner, the better.
What architects won't tell you
Architects, in spite of their reputation for hardheadedness and self-determination, do not control a building's design or progress single-handedly. In some ways, they are no different than hairdressers. (Please, don't let any architects read that statement.) Architecture is a service-oriented business, and architects' livelihoods are predicated on pleasing clients. Architects can propose a design. But the bottom line is that if the client is not impressed or does not think the plan is appropriate, the project can be canceled at any time. The client is not obligated to sign off or commit to anything.
Do not just go along, hoping things will improve magically. As the architectural process progresses from its initial creative stages toward the "chiseled in granite" stage, it becomes harder to accommodate any design shifts. So it's wise for librarians to speak up soon, and speak up often.
SOME TYPICAL SUPPORT AREAS AND THEIR RECOMMENDED SIZES IN SQUARE FEET | |
| Media Office | 200* |
| Workroom | 400-600 |
| Production | 400-600 |
| Darkroom | 150 |
| Professional Area | 150 |
| Conference Room | 150 |
| Equipment Storage | 175 |
| Periodical Storage (If not on CD-ROM) | 150-250 |
| *Based on one media specialist; add 50 sq. ft. for each additional staff member. | |
| North Carolina Public Schools Facility Guidelines; March 1998. www.dpi.state.nc.us/clearinghouse/ |
At beginning of a project (this is called the schematic design stage), architects do lots and lots of sketching, drawing loose circles on thin, cheap tissue paper. The idea is to generate a sizable number of ideas, without lingering on any one, or being too terribly critical. Your school library of the future will appear as an amorphous, soft-edged blob.
Not to worry. The architect is attempting to resolve some fundamental issues, such as how the building will fit on its site, how its parts will fit together and interact smoothly, how the library or media center will be used. The architect is also working within your budget and existing federal and state building codes, which have a lot to say about what can and cannot be done.
At this point, the architect is on an information-gathering mission: How many students will be using the library? What services will be offered? Is the library media center going to be the pulsing heart of the school or will it be a quiet, scholarly retreat on the periphery?
This is not the time to ask the architect what style of desk you will be getting. But it is time to flip through the pages of magazines and clip out pictures of buildings and rooms that you find inviting. These images do not have to be pictures of libraries. If your idea of a great public space is, say, the Old Faithful Lodge at Yellowstone National Park, then find some photographs of it. Look at them closely with your committee and architect and discuss what makes the space so special. Is it the high ceilings, the wood floors, the huge overstuffed chairs looking out on a gorgeous view? Ask your architect how some of these characteristics can be incorporated into your library. Your particular budget may not allow for wood floors, but at least the architect will know that you don't want a room finished in gray and mauve laminate. Hopefully, he or she will find a way to work natural colors, oak trim, and a rustic feeling into your design.
In an ideal project, with a sufficient design budget, an architect would view existing library media centers, looking at details such as how many people need to fit behind the checkout desk at the same time. But keep in mind, that's an ideal scenario.
All too often, the architect's supervisor is eyeballing the bottom line and shouting: "You spent how many hours just looking at things?" (Most architectural firms bid on projects anticipating no more than 10 percent of their time to be spent on the schematic design.) So instead of visiting actual libraries and interviewing real-life librarians, architects often rely on building codes and specification books (referred to as "spec" books) to give them much of the vital information they need.
The exact codes that your architect will use depend on the section of the country your library is located in. The most common guides are the Uniform Building Code (used primarily in the West), the BOCA National Building Code (favored on the East Coast), and the Southern Building Code.
In addition to these codes, each state has its own recommended standards. In my home state, the North Carolina Department of Public Instruction has a set of guidelines governing the size and layout of library media centers based on the size and type of the school. Say we're planning on building a school library for 550 students. The state regulations require that we provide at least four square feet of floor space per pupil, or a minimum of 2,200 square feet for the entire project. (By the way, six square feet per student would be far better. Remember, codes specify minimum requirements, rather than the most desirable dimensions.)
At the end of the schematic design stage, the client will be presented with a set of proposals, typically offering a number of possible building schemes. The client then signs off on the preferred plan, giving the architect permission to proceed. Sometimes the sign-off is figurative; other times, it's literal, with the client signing or initialing the sketches.
My, what big windows you have
Step two, the design development phase, is when the parts of the building begin to take on a distinct personality. At this point, the librarian should provide the architect with as much pertinent information as possible. For example, how is your library media center going to function on a day-to-day basis? How will the staff and students circulate within the space? Where will the windows be located? Do not assume that the architect will understand any of this. Most likely, he or she has never worked in a library and will not have time to fully understand your needs and priorities, unless you articulate them.
Our local middle school has a huge, spacious media-center workroom with lots of counter space. It should have been a wonderful place for a librarian to get his or her daily work done, except for one not-so-teensy detail: the room is separated from the rest of the media center by a solid brick wall. The only doors leading from it are way over at the far edges of the workroom. Instead of being an ideal place to get work done and keep an eye on the library, it is a great place to hide. Someone should have told the architect that the workroom is not an isolated bunker, but an integrally connected part of the media center.
That said, it's important to make lists for the architect: lots of them. What sorts of things should you jot down? Say your present library has a checkout desk that is too small. Measure it and figure out what dimensions your ideal desk should be. Measure how many feet of file cabinets you are now using. Do they provide enough storage space? Too much? Map out your footsteps on a typical day. How many times do you go back and forth from the checkout desk to the reference room or to the workroom? What implications does this have for your floor plan? If one of your priorities is having natural light, make sure you tell the architect you want sufficient windows. On the other hand, if your priority is books, make sure you are given enough wall space to install shelves. (I have often heard librarians complain, "There is no room for books; there are windows everywhere.")
Architectural drawings can be hard to understand or misleading, particularly when you are trying to imagine how it would feel to actually work in a space. For that very reason, I've found it helpful to build a cardboard model of areas like the checkout desk or computer room. I have had many clients insist that a desk, a sofa, a table, and four chairs could fit into a cramped eight-foot by eight-foot office. Since the clients could sketch the furniture on the architectural plans, they reasoned they could easily fit the pieces into the tiny space.
As in the preliminary planning phase, state regulations and federal building codes will play a significant role in shaping your design. For example, it may seem like a great idea to have your stacks reach to the ceiling, like the ones in your graduate school library. But here in North Carolina, where public school safety is emphasized, stacks may not rise above four feet, so that the library may be monitored more easily. Similarly, a sunken storytelling pit may seem like a cozy place to gather on a cold day, but make sure it won't exclude children who are wheelchair-bound and unable to navigate the steps. It is your architect's responsibility to make you aware of these regulations.
At the end of the design development stage, the architect will present drawings for the client's approval. The design should be well established by now, with major elements in place and corresponding minor items (such as finish colors) waiting to be addressed. Again, do not hesitate to question design decisions that you do not understand with the architect. There is still time to modify the plan. If you really want that storytelling amphitheater, now is the time to make that known. The further along the architectural process progresses, the more difficult (and costly) it will be to make additions or changes. It's far easier to modify a schematic drawing than it is to knock down a brick wall.
Bricks and stones
In the third phase, the construction document stage, the architectural drawings cease to be artistic renderings and finally become formal, legally binding documents. Since these documents are used to secure contractors' bids and guide the actual construction of the library, the information contained in them needs to be precise. Errors in the drawings may lead to expensive mistakes and potential lawsuits.
With that sort of pressure on the architect, this is probably not the best time to decide to relocate the library's main entrance. But the library media specialist still has time to advise the architect on the dimensions of the checkout desk and computer workstations. It's also a good idea to have the school district's director of educational technology check on the number and location of computers and data-wire outlets (which are often overlooked and costly to correct after installation). You can also review colors and finishes. Since a school library's colors need to coordinate with the rest of the school, your color options may be limited.
In any case, beware of selecting trendy colors. Nothing looks more dated today than to walk into a school built in the 1970s, with bright blue and orange hall lockers. Nearly 30 years ago, those colors were the rage in "brightening" schools. Today, they simply look like a bad mistake. Likewise, if your color palette resembles the Sunday newspaper's fashion section, it may be time to rethink your choices.
A BRIEF HISTORY OF COLORS |
| Don't let your library or school media center become an historic marker. Here are some of the color combinations that have been most popular over the decades. |
| 1960s: Avocado green and harvest gold |
| Early 1970s: Bright primary colors: red, yellow, blue |
| Mid 1970s: Electric blue and Kool-aid orange |
| Early 1980s: Gray with mauve and jade accents |
| Late 1980s: Miami Vice pastels |
| Early 1990s: Dark earth tones: gold, green, burgundy |
| Late 1990s: Pale citrus tones: tangerine, lemon, lime |
After your plan has been finalized, it's time for the architect to make sure the contractor understands the construction documents. In successful projects, architects and contractors work together to achieve effective solutions.
During construction, the library media specialist can assist the architect by being available to field questions. When you have four or five different trades-electricians, plumbers, drywall specialists, and heating-ventilation-air conditioning experts-working together on a single project, it's not uncommon for a pipe to be placed in the wrong place or a duct to be hung too low. When that happens, it often falls to the architect to decide if correcting the mistake is worth the delay and cost. Being able to contact a school librarian to inquire if a sink can be located on an opposite wall can save both time and money.
As the contractors are busy finishing up, the architect prepares what is called a "punch list," a list of odds and ends that need attention. Although the punch list signals the completion of the project, as an architect this was my least favorite part. I often wondered if "punch" actually meant punching somebody in the nose, rather than going through the entire job site and making a list of things that are wrong.
What's usually on the list? Typically, small annoyances that none of us likes to deal with: a piece of trim with a sloppy joint, a stain on the carpeting. The architect will go through several of these lists before the project is completed. Quite often final corrections are still being made even after students are in the building.
During this final phase, the library media specialist should be making a list of things that are awry, noting everything on paper. Here are some sample notations: "countertop drawer, nearest corner rubs on adjacent desk," "light switch at workroom loose."
Pass this list on to your architect. As the library's main occupant, you will find things that would otherwise go unnoticed. Many of these items can usually be fixed easily. But don't expect all of these nuisances to be resolved. Life, unfortunately, is not perfect, and neither is construction. Yet if you've been involved in the architectural process step-by-step, odds are you'll now have a library you'll be proud of -- warts and all.
