Pools & Spas
As watershapers, we occasionally are given the opportunity to interact with modern architecture in ways that enable us to generate genuine works of art. This trail linking some of today’s most expressive architecture to the reflective and auditory potential of water has been blazed by great designers including John Lautner, Ricardo Legorreta and Luis Barragan. They and their followers have thoroughly explored the geometries, materials and spatial relationships that make up the modern architectural dialogue between structures and water – and the results have often been breathtaking. Almost without exception, their success in these designs is a matter of context and the setting, and as one who has studied their projects for many years, I now have a clearer sense of the excitement they must have felt when things came together and everything about a project was just right. For the project pictured in these pages, a hilltop setting, the contemporary architecture of the home and willing clients set the stage for what is probably
Everywhere you turn these days, you see watershapers tackling projects that would have been unthinkable even a few years ago. It wasn't that long ago that simply raising a spa seemed like a big challenge, but these days vanishing edges, perimeter overflows and other ambitious details have become relatively common. And it's not just technology: Watershapers are gravitating toward great materials, colors, hardscape, plants and amenities - signs of real growth and, for the most part, a very good thing. With this broadening list of possibilities, however, have come some growing pains. The industry's like a teenager with
When it comes to watershapes designed for human interaction - including pools, spas and fountains - the chemical treatment of the water is a key safety issue that can be handled in a variety of ways. Indeed, says water-chemistry expert Jeff Freeman, so many products and so many approaches are available that the average designer or builder could probably use a bit of guidance to help them keep everything straight, both for themselves and their clients.
When it comes to the old buildings that people most want to preserve, the good-looking ones always top the list. These structures are cherished because they make strong aesthetic statements and are often associated with a given period of history, a particular architect or a specific design movement. As an architect working to create public and institutional aquatic complexes, I try to think of my designs in those enduring terms. In other words, I want to develop watershapes that make strong aesthetic statements and therefore have a chance to be cherished and therefore stand a better chance of being preserved, well used and enjoyed for generations to come. I do so because a facility that is both functional and beautiful will, I think, inevitably be of greater value to its community than one that is simply functional. Ugly buildings do the exact same job as beautiful ones in sheltering human activities, but which are more likely to generate excitement, enjoyment and value for the long haul? The answer, I think, is obvious. As a result, I see aquatic facilities as places that should be
Let me make an important point: As interesting as some of the details I discuss in these columns may be, many of the more significant ones wouldn't have any substance or value to my clients without the contributions of one very important person: my friend Mark Smith of Tarzana, Calif., whose firm takes care of my structural engineering. I'd go so far to say that he and his staff are critically important external members of my design team - professionals who know more than I will ever know about steel, concrete, tension and compression. Every single project I design and build is fully, individually engineered, and I refuse to make any assumptions on my own about what might be
It's a rare project in which a watershaper has the opportunity to execute a complete design without compromise. In our Scottsdale, Ariz.-based business, we often work with upscale clients on custom pool and spa installations, and it seems that there's always some element or other in the design that ends up being altered or left out. It sometimes reaches the point where we start to feel as though the result, although it may be satisfying to the client, is not fully reflective of our talent, our vision or our best effort. The project pictured in these pages, however, is a dramatic exception to that rule. Although the clients were involved with general suggestions during the design process and construction project, when it came down to details of the plan, they let us go ahead and create an environment that fully reflected our creative vision. They'd seen one of our projects in a local "Street of Dreams" program in which area contractors were selected to build spec homes on the same street in a town just north of Scottdale called Troon. Once the row of home was completed, there were tours, awards and lots of media coverage - quite the high-profile affair. The clients had been in contact with four or five different pool builders in the area, but they'd
Most people I know have a favorite vacation spot, a favorite leisure-time activity and a favorite form of self-indulgence. In creating backyard environments for these folks, we as watershapers and landscape designers often find ourselves able to roll elements of one, two or all three of those "favorite things" up in a single package in ways that closely reflect our clients' passions and personalities. At my company, we strive to make a direct connection with those preferences by letting our prospective clients know that we want to enable them to vacation in their own backyards and come home to outdoor environments that epitomize the good life. In some cases, that means
It's often said nowadays that watershaping is the art of fitting our work into the surrounding environment. In many ways, what we do at Star Pools in Houston is a prime application of that powerful yet basic concept in the way we tackle both the opportunities and limitations of the residential settings we encounter. Houston is dotted by affluent neighborhoods teeming with homes in classic Mediterranean and Tuscan styles. Stately is a word often used to describe these homes, and because we've based our design philosophy firmly on the idea that the swimming pool and garden areas should look as though they were designed as part of the home itself, our work is largely a manifestation of
Even though many swimming pools look similar in lots of fundamental ways, every one of them is actually quite unique. From soil and groundwater conditions or the specifics of their structural designs to the ways in which they have been installed, water-containing vessels of all shapes, types and sizes are, in fact, subject to a wide array of site- and workmanship-specific variables that can influence the way their concrete shells will perform through the years. When a watershape cracks, any number of things might have gone wrong. To the owner of a watershape, of course, such cracking is obviously a source of concern. The fix is often expensive, and it's not at all unusual for contractors to defend their work as a means of avoiding the necessity of paying to remedy the situation. This can leave the owner in a very difficult position in which experts must be called in to determine the true cause of the problem - and then he or she might be left alone to pressure the contractor who installed the vessel to take responsibility and
When I was a kid in Caltagirone, Sicily, everybody worked hard all the time - grueling manual labor in the fields and factories. By the time I was eight years old, I was already working with my father in a ceramic-sculpture foundry. I didn't do much more than sweep the floors, but I was around all sorts of craftspeople and began to see that there were some forms of hard work that were more fulfilling than others. So I began to think about becoming a painter. I took my first steps in that direction at 13. By the time I was 18, I'd opened a studio and was painting and sculpting on my own. In those days, the arts community was an exciting place where we shared ideas, fed on each others' energy and competed with each other for good commissions. I'm not ashamed to admit that I thought the established artists I hung out with were cool and powerful in their own ways - and that I wanted to be just like them. Given the specific nature of my art, it's not surprising that the great Italian masters heavily influenced my work right from the start, including Michelangelo, Raphael and especially Leonardo Da Vinci. They are my heroes, and I see the work I do as a modest continuation of the traditions they established. These artists taught me that great art is about passion and the desire to
