21 10 310 https://nam.maydayrooms.org/files/original/f7ef3e5f1917a22b274627fcf890f717.pdf 92c1a5c72d3daf5fbd61c4792a057937 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Trade Unions and Architecture Description An account of the resource Themes included action on asbestos and Health &amp; Safety, and involvement with Direct Labour Organisations and Building Unions. Following comparative research of possible options, NAM encouraged unionisation of building design staffs within the private sector, negotiating the establishment of a dedicated section within TASS. Though recruitment was modest the campaign identified many of the issues around terms of employment and industrial relations that underpin the processes of architectural production. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource One Union Subject The topic of the resource Flyer for Conference on Unionisation 14th May 1977 Cartoon by Hellman Description An account of the resource ONE UNION LONDON 14th MAY 1977 10 tod conference organisers :Unionisation Organising Committee of the New Architecture Movement,9, Poland St., London, Wi. further information and application forms ( to be returmed by hth May 1977 ) from the Committee PLEASE DISPLAY THIS HANDBILL A SPECIAL ONE DAY CONFERENCE ON TRADE UNION ORGANISATION FOR EMPLOYEES IN ARCHI TECTURE AND ALLIED BUILDING PROFESSIONS WHO WANT TO SEE EFFECTIVE UNIONISM a ae aoO ¢A vlHOOWN gt. ee GIR. —_— y2N3YC- 7 ene) cou aS ro, JdQs) 0 ¢ Kmaenozin \"Y ‘ wey * Gee). 7 ANG \eo z SO, Sexe eC, ( xSEAAEN SAS NEO EY SPof an 25 ONO "DSUOPSNA0}oul]ayQuQsUdjHOdoIja__ ‘NOLONIGOVd YOM "UW Z 'X SONIM' NOLSNS é pk Nas Sob douy \ ‘DUOPIA’9]‘DUDINOdDoIja}q SdUI} ‘9]DI9 ‘UD}OdOIjSp SOU} ‘DOA ‘UIBUJON X SONI “OS NOLSNS NOLSNS LM NOQNOT 1SGNV10d 6LNSWSAOW SYNLOSLIHO” MAN AHL SSALLINNOD ONISINVOYO (NOLLVSINOIN:.. “-SNOILVLS SANIT NIVA WOuS podoy Uo}sny O} 'GE2 "SLL GLL DLL 'EL'0€ ‘BEL :SASNG —SOUI'ULDYION ‘A]IPDIIId 3qnl otsNY ¢ ‘N> &£ 5 SP SONS /On KC &: x.:“& NSP So PIB1ID9 gia OLA IAS SRS BOP)YOPIO che L/ ‘LMWN NOCNOT ‘LSSYLS ONIONVT ASNOH HOYNHD SVYONVd LS - NES KEE! < Mesa72d \ 3 aSEM AlS S oe 9 0L “LL6Lv7,ADW ‘suolssajoid BuIpying paijjo puD siNyoa}IYOID oSny ce) ee Ww wy Cy “LYa\ SMS / ey Leno's cy YN, Ul UdlDSIUDB41O =—uoluNn apn} UO sdua1aju0d ApDpP-—aUO }DOIDeds Y Nb, 2 a NO1NO” 3NO Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Louis Hellman Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived John Allan Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource May 1977 https://nam.maydayrooms.org/files/original/b346dce53d26d2e13c94e9436e22861c.pdf adda4d8de5a61063abd68172d278c84f Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Trade Unions and Architecture Description An account of the resource Themes included action on asbestos and Health &amp; Safety, and involvement with Direct Labour Organisations and Building Unions. Following comparative research of possible options, NAM encouraged unionisation of building design staffs within the private sector, negotiating the establishment of a dedicated section within TASS. Though recruitment was modest the campaign identified many of the issues around terms of employment and industrial relations that underpin the processes of architectural production. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Professional Representation Subject The topic of the resource Article in Architectural Design "Democracy for Architects" Description An account of the resource 156 AD/3/76 LOUIS HELLMAN reports on the evolution of bodies which represent the interests of architects in Britain. The formation of the architec- tural profession in the United Kingdom early in the 19th century occurred at a time when the public estimation of archi- tects had never been lower. Corruption and fraud were rife among those who assumed the title of architect. And architects generally, having lost the privileges of private patronage, had the task of persuading their potential clientele, the newly- emerged capitalist class, that they had an indispensible service to offer, namely architectural design as opposed to mere building. So in line with the other professions, a group formed itself into a professional body (The Royal Institute of British Architects) which imposed codes of conduct on itself and controlled membership in return for social status. Its codes and _ regulations were designed to protect a small associ- ation of private practitioners serving the new moneyed elite. Despite the later impact of the English Free Architecture Movement at the end of the century, inspired by William Morris’ revolutionary notions regarding the social responsi- bility of the artist, and despite the subsequent development of the Modern Movement along similar lines, there was until very recently little commitment to the architect’s wider responsi- bilities to the community on the part of the Institute. The RIBA is still seen as an elitist club for private principals serving a power elite. Poster for Greater London Council Architect's movement for partici-. pation in internal decision making. Louis Hellman: ‘Arguably — the greatest living architectural cartoon- ist? (Martin Pawley), Hellman is also an architect and architectural critic. PROFESSIONAL REPRESENTATION — mS ieee al CWE 4 e six wise giants were not deterred. ing ‘software’, and giggling about ism’, ‘fragmentation’ and ‘the time »’,unswayed, the magnificent six strode ' stewing impermanent light-weight struc- tes on al sides, hung about with inflat- 'dbles, while electronics abounded. First they “wandered along separate unexplored paths — always dreaming. Their dreams were of _yillages that mushroomed up hydraulically “under inflatable umbrellas, magic carpet cases, all serviced with loving care by - computers in the cybernetic forest. On the edge.of the forest they discovered the wonders of suburbia and, touching it with their special powers, they transmogrified it into suburban adhocs. Consulting and co-operating with the _-witches and warlocks, they decided to go back to nature. And there were many hangers-on. Frequently back-tracking, but in the general direction of forward, the six wise giants played a major ‘now you see it now you don’t’ game with bumps and lumps, and delights. In their search for hybrids, they produced cities in craters and buildings ~underground, artificial islands and sponge oy,JRESPoOwsv = aay! buildings. By now they had become indi- viduals, and ambled their various ways always questing and questioning. Had their journey been a volte-face? Or had they gone full circle only to return to the spot they had set out from? It was too difficult and too boring a question. The six wise giants quickened their pace and the gnomes watched them pass, but they never looked back. They .were laughing, wise in their insecurity and armed with their special knowledge and fresh appetites, they knew _ they would always be happy ever after. Arehigram 1961-1976 (the first 15 years): Peter Cook, Warren Chalk, Dennis Crompton, David Greene, Ron Herron, Mike Webb. : _ Chit > ve 155 = was a move to make the immediacy of the present — its here-and-nowness — more accessible. This is the raison d’etre of Instant City — mobile, mould- ing itself to what already exists, making the experience of the environment more intense. Metamorphosis The move from a visionary future of controlled change to one of convivial adaption found its expression in adhocism. The sheer novelty of the idea that in practice meaning is rarely as explicit as architects had supposed, completely disrupted all expectations about style. The discovery of ambiguity in meaning in archi- tecture was total anathema to the singular purpose of the Modern Movement, which was to contrive explicit monumental metaphors to the ideal of a clean aesthetic. Reeling from the surprise, and ina race to resolve it, all talk turned to that tangible image of ambiguity — adhocism. Charlie Jencks and Nat Silver wrote a book about it, and Peter Cook devised his Addhox Metamorphosis of the suburban street — Mon Repos. The biological disintegration of his Urban Mark, which followed, is a fantastic extension of Archigram’s constant theme of continuing change. This, and more lately, Sponge, is the concept of a city totally responsive to its environment, no longer controlling it, but metamorphosising into it — metaphorically putting paid to the notion ofa hard-edged reality. RR. Professional disarray . Jameson can appeal on-TV for’ Since World War II the archi- tectural profession has experi- enced an ever-increasing polar- isation between the old private sector and the expanding public sector, or in-house local govern- ment architects’ Small private firms departments formed to cope with large, roll- ing building programmes in the educational and public housing fields. Today accounts for the greater part of building activity. The leaders of the public sector departments, the senior officers, became in- creasingly aware that the RIBA was doing little to protect or represent their interests as _salaried architects. They engaged in persistent lobbying culminated in the so-called ‘sub- scription crisis’ of the RIBA in 1972, when the vast majority of members turned down a pro- this sector which |AM A SURGEON. . LAM AT THEToPoF My PROFESSIOn .ONE OF TRE FEW WHO CAN PER- “FORM A COMPLICATED ENCEPHALOMALECTONY SUCCESSFULLY? “ 1AM AN ARCHITECT, | AK AMONG THE MosT HIGHLY PAILIN MY - PROFESSION... - |SIGN LETTERS ! 157 1AM A SaenTist. |AM PUSHING FORWARD THE FRONTIERS OFBlo- PHYSICS . |AM ConsiDER- fo oP IN THEREL- OF SUBATOMIC Atty / ehTOnic nel fession into disrepute by their willing complicity in themegalo- maniac ambitions of big business and big bureaucracy are the very architects who control the pro- fessional bodies, They have a vested interest in the maintain- ance of their unrepresentative structures. They devalue archi-- posal to increase the member- and nurses, they are turning to ship fee. Since 80% of: the the trades unions as an altern- Today the architectural ative, not a supplement, to thé profession faces a similar situ- RIBA. As members of a local ation to that which existed at its to subsidise activities and government union, they can see inception. Well-publicised services which were only in the the possibilities of improving the reports of corruption, building interests of the ruling minority. political context in which they failures, both technical and Either because it was unaware of work, and not just the physical social, and the indisputable ugli-- the significance of this vote of conditions or salary structures. no confidence, or because it was very cunning, the Institute reacted by proposing a separate organisation for salaried Through union activity and with the co-operation of other union- ised professions, they can be more effective as a pressure group to resolve the conflicts between professionalism, which stresses individual choice, and bureaucracy, which relies on collective responsibility. Their unions can liase with other unions or community-based groups, such as tenants associ- ations, to press for greater parti- cipation in the decision-making and design processes of local government. ness ‘and inhumanity of so many architect-designed schemes have helped to reduce the ‘status of architects to. the point where market-researcher Conrad the removal of the profession from the realm of public auth- ority housing — an area in which it was felt we had the greatest contribution to make. More significantly, architects .along with planners and developers are seen to be actively siding with the forces of power and capital against the interests of the com- munity, who may receive with derision the former’s plea of professional impartialityI.n such a situation it is not surprising that the structure of the pro- fession and its institution is in a state of disarray and confusion. The profession was born out of the rise of capitalism; will it fade with the crisis of capitalism? “membership were salaried, they could see no reason to pay more~.. members which would perform the functions of a union by maintaining salaries and working conditions to complement, not replace, the RIBA: This body, The Association of Official Architects, has in fact received little support as its functions are made redundant by real unions, and it is run by the senior-officer establishment who see no case for any fundamental changes in local authority departments. tation of their fellow pro- fessionals. . The RIBA has _ always Local authority contingent stressed, perhaps rightly, that it It may seem strange that ina nominally democratic body where the ruling council is voted in by a majority of salaried members, the bosses continue to tule. This is partly explained by the loaded voting system, partly by the conditioning architects receive which tends to lead them to believe that everyone in the profession is working for its best interests, and partly by sheer apathy. It seems increasingly is bound by its charter to act as At the same time, many local- more apparent that the RIBA is a learned society furthering the authority architects resent the unable or unwilling to change to cause of architecture and not as image of the profession that the meet the conditions of the time a union concerned with the established institutions propa- and democratically represent the material advancement of its gate. They feel that these bodies interests of the majority of members; those who require this give praise and rewards to architects. kind of protection should join the prima donna, monumental- one of the existing unions: Un- functionalist kind of archi- fortunately the professional pretence of being concerned with service to the community rather than with material self- interest has again been exposed for the sham it is. The RIBA, in fact, operates as a union for the powerful minority — fixing fees, controlling advertising, touting, and generally looking after the business interests of firms. The great majority of architects have no clients, no fees and no the promotion of good architec- business interests since they are employed by other architects or by public bodies. ture, However many pronounce- ments are made about the quality of architecture, or lip- ‘Younger architects, especially service-paying additions to the in the public sector, are increas- code referring to the architect’s ingly opting out of the RIBA, obligation to society, the real and seeing it as irrelevant to activities of the Institute are their role as public servants. seen to be operating against Along with other professionals those very ideals. Those archi- in the public sector such as tects who have been mainly teachers, civil servants, doctors responsible for bringing the pro- tecture that receives lavish cover- age in the glossy magazines: whereas they see architecture in the Morris sense as a service to the community where the ego- boosting art monument has no relevance. They resent, too, the RIBA’s stress on architecture as a business with its continuous stream of advice on management techniques and related subjects, none of which seem relevant to tecture and creativity at every Opportunity, and they deny the connection between designer and design to justify the exploi- In the face of the growing pressure from the public sector, splinter groups from the private- practitioner side have also emerged to safeguard the interests of the medium-sized and smaller private practices, They see the public sector as a threat not only to their work load, but to the quality of archi- tecture in general. The idea of bureaucracy acting as client miti- gates against the kind of pro- fessional service and personal attention which, in their view, the small private practice jis ideally suited to provide. They are equally alarmed at the ever- expanding building programmes of the public sector which, together with the decrease in private jobs resulting from the recession, are forcing small firms FAMOUS ARCHITECT . emerged which attempts to cut across this public/private polar- isation, and also to commit itself to a decisive vision of society in the near future. It accepts the public-sector radical’s view of the RIBA as a bosses’ organis- ation and an obstacle to change; at the same time it is opposed to centralised bureaucracy which action concerns the organisation alienates the users. The base of these radical movements is firmly that of community action: the involve- ment of the architect directly of the profession along very different lines to promote service to the community as a matter of policy rather than vague intention. The present an architect. SYNECTIC PROXEMICS. ABILITES... areas for potential action seem petence. Every qualified archi- Yugoslavia is often quoted. to have emerged so far from the tect should be fully responsible There, the size of practices is group’s discussions and con- directly to his client and not via limited by law to not more than gresses. a partner or senior officer. The five architects who share re- The first area relates to the RIBA should be reorientated sponsibility equally. Work is involvement of ‘ordinary’ people accordingly to look after the obtained, not through the thinly needs of the actual architects, veiled touting activities of a those who draw, design, and boss, but by allocation, much as supervise the erection of build- doctors in Britain are allocated ings rather than those ‘archi- practices under the National tects’ in name. only who have Health Service. London-based and orientated, it is accused of being out of touch with the provincial silent ma- those of a doctor, should be their work rather than for their would alter the context of the jority of smaller practices. available to everyone. Whether ability to play golf or bend the architect’s, work but not the Recently a third group has such groups come from the code of conduct. . method of work. They would, public or the private sector is More importantly, such a however, have far reaching impli- irrelevant. The important factor move to emancipate the job cations as far as architectural is that they have the power and architects would help to reduce education is concerned. Archi- desire to engage the services of the scale of jobs. Objections to tects would have to be educated to close and their members to seek employment with local authorities. They believe the result will be a totalitarian monopoly on one hand, and large, impersonal private offices on the other. They would prefer to see an expansion of the private sector through the sale of council houses, and the use of private firms by local authorities as Opposed to in-house architec- ture departments. The RIBA is seen to be equally unrepresen- tative of this group’s interests; in the planning and architectural decisions which affect them, and ultimately depends upon the acquisition of power by local communities through devolution or direct action. Architects com- mitted to this process have a trolling positions in the pro- duty to make their services avail- fession by means of their able in some form to threatened business or political contacts. or deprived groups: ideally, the Architects could then be seen to the organisational structure of services of an architect, like be rewarded for of the quality of the profession suggested here this are usually that there is not to shoulder responsibility on enough work to go round to receiving their qualification, and keep Britain’s 22 000 qualified not waste years as drawing-board architects independently occu- fodder for office hierarchies. pied. But a better answer might This implies a longer period of be that there are not enough practical training or apprentice- clients. Vast schemes are, or ship, perhaps culminating in a have been until recently, carried variation of the masterwork — a out by relatively few practices small completed building which and authorities employing would be judged by the users hundreds of architects in a and community, as well as by menial capacity. If this workload the professionals. surrogate client in the form of often put forward as an insuper- groups of two or three archi- which the architect may support a bureaucratic committee or able barrier to any idea of user- tects, then the ideal of user- but over which he has no direct management board claiming to participation. To counteract this participation in design could be control. However, we can put monotor the needs and require- structure, ARC and NAM achieved more easily. One might our own political/professional ments of others. The precise propose office self-management, even envisage a time when house in order and try to regain strategy of movements like The the sharing of both responsi- groups of council tenants choose the public’s confidence in our Radical reaction The second area for potential with the community he builds autocratic and hierarchical struc- for, at the design stage and not ture of the profession operates through the medium of a against such involvement and is smaller segments manageable by depend on political changes Architect’s Revolutionary bility and profit equally by all their architect. The bringing abilities, and in the contribution we can make to society’s well- Architecture Movement (NAM) ARCUK (not to be confused concerned with the quality of being. Too often the architect is Council (ARC) or The New members of an office. The together of the two groups most is still being formulated (and, with the official Registration the finished product —_ the asked to act contrary to his one hopes, ridding itself of a lot Council) group have taken this designer and the user — could do of pseudo-revolutionary rhetoric further to mean that no archi- nothing but improve the quality in the process), as evidenced in tect should be able to employ of the architecture. At the the confusion over their relation- another, an idea aimed at the moment, we often bring ship with the RIBA: whether to private sector but applicable together only those least con- change it, fight it or destroy it. equally to the public. The cerned about the detailed The consensus of opinion, how- current situation in which quality — the bureaucrat and the ever, seems to be towards the salaried architects are exploited manager. professional ethic. Sometimes he complies, sometimes he complies under protest, but very rarely does he stand up for the right of everyone to environmental equality, irrespective of econ- omical or _ political vested interests. We need an organis- second option, by forming an and divested of responsibility for As an example of this kind of ation that will support the alternative power base. However, basic decision-making invites small-scale office self-manage- architect when he finally makes two basic and interdependent irresponsibility and incom- 158 AD/3/76 ment, the situation operating in that kind of stand. insinuated themselves into con- could be broken down into Some of these proposals Drawing board fodder The fundamental changes in FOR My YEAR OUT’ |JOINED A LARGE LOCAL AuTHOeY OF REPUTE... MY Boss HAD RISEN THROUGH THE RANKS on ACCOUNT OF HIS MANAGERIAL AND FINANCIAL THEN |WENT “TO ARCHITECTURE SCHOOL... MY FIRST TUTOR HAD BECOME INTERNATIONALLY FAMOUS “THROUGIHIS RESEARCH Io THE SeMI- LATTICE HIERARCHICAL RECOMPOSITION OF WHEN |WAS YOUNG |DREAMED OF BECOMING A SO |BOUGHT MYSELF ADRAWING BOARD. SUCH BOOKS AS "The Ecology of Organonic Sociometry inLaunderette Planning’, ANDPOUTICALCOMMECTIONS|WPICIVATE if oePer pesve We're ALL PRoeESHONALS TOCETHER! PERHAPS ARCHITECTS ARE NOT SO BAO ASA PROFESSION AFTER ALL| 10 YEARS QUAUFIED ANO STUL 1M 159 IN MY FINAL YEARS |WAS TAUGHT By THE |FINALLY QUALIFIE.D.. PROFESSOR ... MY EXTERNAL EXAMINE? HAD GAINED A HE WAS RENOWNED FOR HIS AUTHORSHIP OF POSITION OF POWSIC, AND ESTEEM INTHE YESTEDAY |THINK MY DREAM BEGAN “70 fRIBA AS A RESLLT OF HIS BUSINESS COME TRUE... | SOLO MY DRAWING Board NaN Yonaren GCI CE ETEC er Becidenticln Hi-tech systems. Foster's [BM mirror-box at Common denominators. All the buildings have Havant, Hampshire was proposed as an architec- similar uses — office administration, computer tural answer to package-deal system-building. It machine spaces, and restaurants. All have small proved immensely popular to a profession deeply areas of window relative to the floor space created. concerned by the inroads package-dealers were All use servicing systems based on standard com- making into their territory at the time. Its success ponents, applied in ways which balance the often lay in re-thinking the existing boundaries within conflicting needs for simplicity, technological industry and using the available technologies ap- honesty and fuel economy. Charles Jencks recently introduced him as the most significant Mainstream Modern Movement architect in Britain. It is an accolade difficult to find fault with, for Norman Foster and Foster Associates have earned an international reputation for their highly ordered and explicitly technological buildings. And although many myths sur- round their work, making it almost imposs- ible to separate fact from fantasy, a review of the last 10 years points to important changes and consistencies in their function- alist use of technology. In the sixties, when systems set the standards for architecture, Foster Associates showed the architectural world something of the processes of systemdtic thinking. Com- missioned by IBM to administer a system- built package-deal contract for some pre-fab temporary accommodation, they systemati- cally reorganised not only the building’s brief, but also the users’ management struc- ture. The building they produced sealed within its coo] bronze, mirror-glass gasketed facades unprecedented economic flexibility and environmental control. IBM formed part of the cumulative architectural fantasy of the time for ahi-tech future. When the Wills Faber Dumas building was completed, it demonstratively took thi. fantasy to new heights in the realm of what propriately. ’Shape. Shape. WFD competitive with conventional Direct response to-existing grain timber system building. Single of streets and buildings. Low fragmented into dispersed but storey repetitive frame. Low- profile compatible with ‘the cost — high utilisation. Ex- conflicting needs of client activ- tremely low window-to-floor ities, circulation, site lines, ratio ‘Green field’ site. structure. Low _ floor-to-wall many~ years. Building both Skin. ratio on three floors. raised and constructed off the ground. Skin. Skin. Repetitive for low-cost. Single- Exercise in reductive detailing. 10mm clear glass with motor- skin spectra float and manually High performance 12mm solar operated roller blinds provide a control glass with flexible relatively low-grade of solar con- silicone joints. Excellent trol but effective and practical acoustic qualities. No blinds — in the circumstances. Standard unobstructed views. No opening systems extended further by {DPARKING.02MOTORS neoprene section gives good lights in wall but top lighting of linking them with horizontal acoustic seal and easy to replace escalator well — an inseparable mirrors to catch low sun. glass if damage occurs. No top part of the internal concept. lighting. No opening lights. Services. Services. Services. Roof-mounted, unitary air Heavy central plant located at Natural ventilation systems conditioning units with distri- ground slab level, distributing dominate. Raised building form bution in a constant depth services to dispersed air con- generates a reservoir of cold air structure and service zone. ditioning plant rooms embedded which is drawn through the ‘Fixed’ plant areas at ground in the plan. Elimination § of building section in summer. level virtually eliminated. Flex- major sources of vibration and Suspended floor used as a press- ibility improved. Design rooted other noise factors and re- urised plenum, eliminating ducts in the classic comparison duction of ceiling space to mini- and providing warm _ floor. between systems approath and mise the overall height of the Occupied space and roof space ‘systems building’: in this case building. In servicing terms, a free of plant. Electricity used the alternative offered — with low energy-consuming building. exclusively to take advantage of internal courts — covered considerably more surface area, and had a very much higher floor-to-wall ratio as a result. 160 AD/3/76 Shape. Same areas involved as WFD but identifiable pavillions. Direct response to mature forest which has remained undisturbed for ized external blinds exploits dull but bright conditions. Ability to open up sections in summer for smells and sounds. Top lighting local hydroelectric power. Self- sufficient systems for water and drainage. Recirculation of Dumas’ new building in Ipswich, with its undulat- sewage, water, and paper. ‘TECH TOA Hi-tech precision. On the surface, Willis Faber & ing facade and see-through fabric, appears to be a patent-glazed, hi-tech monument to the principles Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Louis Hellman Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived John Allan Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 01 March 1976 https://nam.maydayrooms.org/files/original/c12c2b05fc6fd75657dc3f895f0556d5.pdf dcc024759e9aea54e052406577483e83 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Professional Issues Description An account of the resource A cohort of NAM members became engaged with the professional registration body, standing as elected councillors on the Architects Registration Council and its various committees. Hitherto entirely dominated by the RIBA bloc, the Council began to yield to a new dynamic through NAM's involvement, enabling fresh perspectives on such issues as mandatory fee scales, greater lay representation on the body, ethically-based standards of professional conduct, etc. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Call to end surveyors' fee-scale Subject The topic of the resource Article in Financial Times Description An account of the resource PROPOSALS WHICH could lead to the end of the fee-scale system of payment for Britain's sure veyors and architects were recommended in two reports from the Monopolies Commission yesterday. The reports concluded that surveyors' fee scales for property valuations and for property management. With the exception of those negotiated With clients' associations or public authorities, should be abolished. They recommended that while scales might continue to operate to cover architects' commissions and other types of surveying work. these should be determined by an independent conunittee in order- to protect the public interest. In addition. both types of business should In future be cutting, fewer practices and surveyors were operating against lower standards would quickly the public interest, the Com• ensue. mission said. The surveyors echoed these Building society survey fee cmnments and said that the scales did not operate against the Coin mission had seen fit to public interest but might do so recmmnend changes in the in the future. The Commission operation of scale fees which therefore recommended that would prove detrimental to the before any changes were made in the existing scale the Building Societies' Association should obtain the approval of the proposed independent committee. The Commission did not intend proposing any change in the scale system applying to surveying work involved in the com• pulsory purchase of land by public authorities, which was worked out in conjunction with the Inland Revenue. Where scales did continue to operate, it should be stated pronunently that they were not binding, that fees could be settled without reference to them and that suppliers of the services involved might quote fees in competition With others. the reports said. rchitects' Services and Surveuors' Services—two reports on the supply of sertuce.s u;ith reference to fee scales: SO; E2.S5 each. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource M Cassell Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived JA Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 10.11.77 https://nam.maydayrooms.org/files/original/c3204f291ec10dc759787818505164a7.pdf f0b6148bee0850eee59db8a49638546e Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Professional Issues Description An account of the resource A cohort of NAM members became engaged with the professional registration body, standing as elected councillors on the Architects Registration Council and its various committees. Hitherto entirely dominated by the RIBA bloc, the Council began to yield to a new dynamic through NAM's involvement, enabling fresh perspectives on such issues as mandatory fee scales, greater lay representation on the body, ethically-based standards of professional conduct, etc. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Cover letter (MJ) and letter from K Forder (Registrar) to J Tarn re PI Liability Study Team Subject The topic of the resource Cover letter (MJ) and letter from K Forder (Registrar) to J Tarn re PI Liability Study Team (2pp) Description An account of the resource I enclose herewith a copy of a letter dated 16 November which is self explanatory together with the accompaning Press Release dated 11 May. I have written in terms which indicate surprise that this is the f irst ment ion of this matter that has been made to ARCUK with a request for submission by the end of this month. I am however glad to hear that constituent bodies such as the FAS, IAAS, and the RIBA have been cQn*ulted and have submitted - questionnaires on the mat ter . It rather seems that the big gap in consültation has been an apparent fai lure •to seek the views of unattached architects and the Architectural Association. I am making appropriate representations to the Department of the Environment on this matter together •with querying a situation where it rather appears that on the! three study groups looking at the matter there appear to be only two architects. I should be grateful if constituent bodies could let me have copies of submissions they have made so that we 'can come to some conclusion on how the matter should proceed. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource M Jencks/ Forder Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived JA Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 22 & 18/11/88 https://nam.maydayrooms.org/files/original/7a91e14ba060756402cfe75626defcb7.pdf 544c0514babde636478dc44aa6b0e093 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Education Description An account of the resource Many NAM members were engaged in the field of architectural education, either as staff or students, and pursued new ideas for course content and pedagogy, reassessing existing course structures and priorities in conventional architectural training. The concern to focus on socially necessary buildings and to find new and meaningful ways of engaging with building users and the wider community- both central NAM themes - illuminated much of the discussion. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Blueprint for Confrontation' Subject The topic of the resource Guardian article on RIBA versus ARCUK challenge Description An account of the resource the Minister - not tanang about those an• noying holes and puddles that can be blamed on two particularlv harsh winters and clumsily tilled road. works but about the general structural condition of the roads. It is the difference between a house that needs a coat of paint and one with rising damp. Just as untreated damp can destroy a house so. say some experts, roads all over the country could quite rapidly suffer al. most total failure — some. thing like an apparently sound building collapsing when the foundations give wa dére the foundations, out of sight even to the road engineers. can keep going for ears without any particu• larly marked effect on the condition of the road. As a motorist or cyclist you might notice " tracking if the road is used by heavy Iorries, shallow indentations where the wheels travel that are most noticeable and tiresome when it rains. Most dangerous. too, be• cause the carefully cone structed weatherproof skin that should throw off the water is being damaged at that point and at least some of the water is leaching into the foundations. And even more dangerous in the win. ter when a cycle of wet weather, frost. and thawing, freezes the water in those fissures, forcing the road bed out of true and starting to destroy its integrity. Leave that untreated and the tracks become cracks, draining surface water straight into the roadbase. Then, as this water causes the progressive failure of the foundations, comes crazing of the surface as tramc that the road was not designed for keeps up the daily pounding. The real crisis tollows quickly with the break-up of the roadway and failure on a scale that can only be remedied by a complete rebuild of the road from the bottom up — the most expensive treat. ment both in terms of construction costs and dislocation of traffic. One of the purposes of the road maintenance survey is to establish the possibility of just such a collapse, sampling trunk, urban and rural roads all over the country and charting them on a de. fects index which shows year on year improvements and deteriorption. This year, once, before in most respects. and the engineers are getting worried. " My personal opinion is that the situation is ex. tremely serious." Col G. A. CAVepuuii to a decent standard. The i•easons for the overall decline are not difficult to iind. Traffic has increased by more than 20 oer cent since the mid.70s. This has happened despite the reduction m the total number of heavy lorries that was supposed to come about when maximum weights were set at 38 tonnes in 1983. At the same time spending on maintenance has been cut back by about 40 per cent. It looks like becom• Ing a very expensive economy. In 1977 Kent's Courity Surveyor, Alan Smith, produced a chart showing wnat happened when maintenance was ignored. For the first 10 years there is no appreciable effect, but thereafter the cost of restoring them to an ".as steeply ending In total col. lapie at abou! 25 years. Some ally we could be about 20 years into that scenario. These concerns will be reflected in a report which is to be published later this year by the Audit Commission for Local Government. Their former Controller, Mr John Banham, pointed out to an audience of . road engineers last autumn that spending on maintenance was now some 30 per cent below the levels of 1975. " The next few years will therefore likely see the costs of deferring road maintenance rising sharply," he added, diplomatically understating his private opinion on the subject. Although the problem is acknowledged by the civil servants at the Department of Transport as well as by the local authority engineers and many politicians, all at• tempts to et enough money to avoid tke troubles ahead have so far failed to soften any hearts at the Treasury. Politically the allure of an official opening of a new bypass far outweighs the bor. ing job of repairing the old, roads. It is not as if the cost of steering away from the danger is that great — at the moment. ' For the trunk roads it would need about E50 million to E60 million a year. hardly enough to register on the till," Col Leech maintains. " The rest may need E200 million a year for a number of years." Last ni ht snow and slush that fell äuring the day was freezing in tiny cracks in roads all over the northern half of the country. Forecasters expect night frosts until the weekend — just the right conditions to wreck a road. Beirut, to insist that they remove their protection from him for the meeting. Mr Waite met Mr Akram Shehayeb. the PSP official in charge of his visit to Beirut, and insisted, emotionally, that he not be followed. One appointment to meet the two hostages had fallen through two days earlier because a shootout on the southern side of Beirut had prevented his Shiite contact from coming to West Beirut to pick him up. Nothing, he said, must stand in the way of his second appointment, which, against the advice of the tionary Guards. Mr Mugnieh asked for a meeting at the Summerland Hotcl. one of West Beirut's best hotels. on the southern side of the city. The meeting. according to one of those present. lasted five hours. Mr Mugnieh denied any knowledge of Mr questions with the state. ment : " One of the 17 in Kuwait is m cousin." Finally, he saiä he would make contact " with others " and get back to the PSP within 24 hours. He did not and has not. The following week. Mr PSP, he was making after da Terry Waite. . . insisted that bodyguards withdraw Shehayeb returned to see Sheikh Fadlallah. who said år• Shehayeb expressed depressed since the release of extremely careful. He tremely reluctantly, Mr Deek midnight telephone call from Mr Mugnieh was outside Beirut. He. Sheikh Fadlallah, concern. West German authorities had just detained a a third American hostage, David Jacobsen, in Novem- showed the PSP his watch : it had. he said, no battery — agreed. At 6.50 pm, the psp deliv- Mr Waite's contact, the onl man to whom the BritisK been unable to see him five days. Walid Lebanese Shiite Mr MohamAli Hamade, ber. He had already sent nothing that could, in the ered Mr Waite to Dr Mroue negotiator would have Jumblatt. the leader of the med in connec- of them a bible for comfort. prevailing climate of suspi• a former health minister and opened the door. Dr Mroue PSP. reportedly said. " He is tion with the hijacking TWA flight 847 and a West German businessman had ' My 90b told is full Mr Shehayeb.of adven- tures,' he cion, be thought to be a bug. consultant to the wife of Sheikh Mohammed Hussein quoted the contact as ask. ing: " Where is Terry." Dr my son. I would break the door down to get T been seized in Beirut. Per- " I must do this. I know the key men well. I trust them." Before going to a 7 pm appointment at the home of Fadiallah, the spiritual ide " of the pro-Iranian Mroue has refused to meet journalists to discuss his role Waite. But the matter is haps Mr Waite himself might Dr Adnan Mroue, a Shiite wezbolah Party_. in the Waite affair. cult and out of hand." be taken hostage, but the Despite this trust, Mr gynaecologist, in whose flat Last month's murderous British negotiator, said by to Waite was obviously alert to ne was to meet his contact, At 7.40 pm. Dr Mroue was Mr Waite's contact, identi- fighting in West Beirut, the friends to be determined vindicate his good name after. the dangers of this first postIrangate visit. He told the Mr Waite stopped for an hour's conversation with summoned to the American university hospital for a de- fied only by a first name, is said to be a member of the subsequent arrival of the Syrian army and the crack- the first murky revelations PSP his relations with the Saleh Deek, the local PSP livery. He left Mr Waite Musawi family of the Beqaa down on the PSP have put about Washington's arms-for- Islamic Jihad had been diffi- official in charge of his secu- alone, still awaiting his con. valley town of Baalbeck — a the Waite case very much on hostages deals, insisted. cult after Mr Jacobsen's rity. He thanked Mr Deek tact. In his account to the family that has at least one the back burner. " I realise He had been told that the release. They had expected effusively for the arrange- PSP he reportedly said that relative among the Kuwait that the hostage question is a hostages — Terry Anderson. the release of 17 fundamen- ments he had made over the he returned 25 minutes later 17. human,problem that must be former bureau chief of the talists gaoled in Kuwait. It past week. Again he insisted to find Mr Waite gone and solved. Mr Jumblatt said Associated Press, and Tom had not happened. They felt that he was on his own from the front gate, which he had On January 22, Mr this week. " But there is now Sutherland, Dean of Agricul- betrayed. But he row had a the moment he crossed Dr left open, closed. Dr Mroue Shehaveb had a first meeting a political problem that is ture at the American Univer- " messenger " in Kuwait. Mroue's threshold : no also said, according to one with Sheikh Fadlallah. who more im Ortant than Terry sity of Beirut — had been Nonetheless. he was being watchers, no follow cars. Ex-' source, that he received a promised to make enquiries Waite anåthe others." Blueprint for confrontation MARTIN PAWLEY on an architectural storm WHEN on October 20, 1791 come that both parties have toring the performance of council approves its own 42• grounds that the amount of Adams. who gave a long and the architects James Wyatt, taken legal advice. ARCUK schools of architecture has person representation on work available for architects detailed account of the dis- Henry Holland George has even consulted the Privy been delegated to the Riba, ARCUK. sent down a new was far in excess of their pute and then revealed his Dance and Samuei Cockerell Council about its position. with only the odd place on a list of approvals for 1987/88 numbers. ARCUK on the master-stroke ARCUK's met in a pub to found some. The root of the conflict lies visitin board allowed to on which the names of Ad- other hand had resolutely annual meeting was to thing that was eventually to in an EEC directive. The ARCUk. This, insisted the ams and Hinton were con- refused to endorse any put back by two weeks in become the Royal Institute of European Community is try- Department of the Environ- spicuously absent. Worse closure. order to allow the Riba to British Architects, they could ing to unify professional ment, was not good enough. still, the president of the submit a new list of 42 scarcely have imagined that qualifications so that, for ex- ARCUK must not delegate Riba, a Scotsman with a This Riba policy, although names — this time including 200 years later it would be at with itself. ample, Greek engineers can in Britain, and Brit- this crucial process at all. beard named Larry Rolland. it was eventually reversed. did irreparable harm to rela- Adams and Hintom At this war Today the profession's practice Ish architects can set up Because virtually all Riba members are registered ar- and his fire-breathing heir tions between the institute the meeting went wild. with so-called " unattached " ar- leadership is not only split between its traditionalist offices in Spain. This process is so near completion that chitects, and most of the c Itect Nod Hackney. issued press release stating that and the schools of architecture — and forged new links chitects — those who were registered but do wing and supporters of com- this month a Statutory In- 28,000 re istered architects are mem ers of the Riba, a the increasing involvement between the schools and ARCUK. Because not belong to the Riba — accusing therr munity architecture, but it is at war with its own registra- strument will be laid before Parliament to make it law. there might seem little basis for But of ARCUK m educational matters was " not in the best it is open to any architect who pays leader of a sell-out. Some tion council (ARCUK) a body The registration councils of an argument here. own education o cer and its interests of architecture, the public, or students of CIO a year to remain on the register to practice without deft deployment of legal advice saved the day ment in 1931 to make it illegal for anyone to use the required to present a list of approved qualifications chairman, Bob Adams, and The sacking of Adams and member of the Riba as well, won a vote of confidence for having averted a constitw title architect unless their names appeared on a regis- awarded by recognised schools, and in Britain {Nas that the composition of visit. Hinton and the ill-considered ress release liberated a the institute took a dim view of this development. Adams tional crisis — at least until next week. when the Riba ter. The war is about who has the final say in judging ARCUK performed the task. So far so good — ing boards should be jointly arge skeleton from the cupboard. From 1983 until the and Hinton s initiative looked to them like a bid for Will have to decide whether to the performance of 36 seemed because while agreed as between equals, directive hit the fan. end of last year the Riba had power, and this was the real confront the Privy Council in schools of architecture that ARCUK provided the list it the actually supported govern• reason for their sacking. or give to ARCUK's new bid for power and widen the roduce about 800 new archi- had precious little control Only one exploratory dis- ment proposals for the CIO. Matters came to a head split t*tween the troubled ecture graduates every year. So acrimonious has it be. over the schools themselves. Since 1974 the task of moni- cussion was held in January before the Riba, whose ruling sure ot a number of schools of architecture on the yesterday at a packed ARCUK meeting chaared by professton•s ruling bodies yet agarn. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Martin Pawley Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived John Allan Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 19 March 1987 https://nam.maydayrooms.org/files/original/0e7785b2f74a988297aeef9b3ed29a5a.pdf cf4f9ebb540102c8357cd3b4ff92088c Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Feminist Group Description An account of the resource This developed a feminist agenda within the NAM critique. Alongside feminist consciousness raising and other feminist political groups, women within NAM came together to develop a feminist understanding of the built environment and building industry. The group acted to advise women in a range of campaigning issues. A special issue of Slate on feminism was produced in July/ August 1978. Emerging from the group was a' Feminist Design Collective' which became ‘Matrix' in 1980, producing the book ‘Making Space - Women and the Manmade Environment', which has been on architecture booklists for 35 years, and the design practice and Technical Aid Centre. <br /><br />The majority of this archive is held at the <a href="http://www.matrixfeministarchitecturearchive.co.uk" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Bishopsgate Institute</a>. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource MAKING SPACE WOMEN AND THE MAN MADE ENVIRONMENT Subject The topic of the resource The authors of this book were a group of feminist designers who were part of a NAM Campaign Group Description An account of the resource K.C.E.T.G. GROUND FLOOR DEVONSHIRE HOUSE DEVONSHIRE ST.. KEIGHLEY. 8021 2BH The authors Jos Boys has studied architecture. She is an architectural journal- ist, a teacher, and is currently working in an architecture and plan- ning community advice service. Frances Bradshaw has studied architecture and trained as a bricklayer. She has worked on various feminist and community projects and is currently working for a local authority direct labour department as a bricklayer. Jane Darke has studied architecture and sociology, worked in housing research and teaching, and now works for Sheffield City Council. She has two teenage children. Benedicte Foo has qualified as an architect, taught design, and is now an architect with a local authority and mother of two children. Sue Francis has trained as an architect and carpenter, written an MA thesis, now works with Matrix feminist architectural co- operative, has a small child, and lives with friends in a house they built together. Barbara McFarlane is architecturally trained and has worked as a carpenter. She is currently working for Matrix feminist architec- tural co-operative. Marion Roberts has qualified as an architect, worked in com- munity architecture, and taught social policy and administration. She is now doing research into sexual divisions and housing design. MAKING SPACE WOMEN AND THE MAN-MADE ENVIRONMENT MATRIX Pluto 4~Press London and Sydney First published in 1984 b y Pluto Press LimiiLd, The Works, 105a TOTTiano Avenue, LondDn NW5 2RX and Pluto Press Australia LimiiLd, PO BCIIC 199, Leil:hJuudt, New South Wales 2040, Australia Copyright© Matrix Book Group, 1984 JndividuoJ ropyright © fhe authors COIICI!med Text and cover designed by Ka/1! Hepbum Set by Promenade Graphics Ltd., Chelknham, Glos. Prink!d in Grmt BritxJin by Photobooks IBristol! Limited BoundbyW.H.w~&SonsLimill!d,TweedRood,Clevedon,Aoon ISBN 0 86104 601 3 Contents List of illustrations vi Preface vii 1. Introduction I Jos Boys, Frances Bradshaw, Jane Darke, Benedicte Foo, Sue Francis, Barbara McFarlane, Marion Roberts, Anne Thorne, and Susan Wilkes 1 2. Women, architects and feminism I Jane Darke 11 3. Homes fit for heroines: housing in the twenties I Barbara McFarlane 26 4. Women and public space I Jos Boys 37 5. House design and women's roles I Jos Boys, Frances Bradshaw, Jane Darke, Benedicte Foo, Sue Francis, Barbara McFarlane, Marion Roberts, Susan Wilkes 55 6. Housing the family I Sue Francis 81 7. W orking with women I Frances Bradshaw 89 8. Private kitchens, public cooking I Marion Roberts 106 9. House and home I Benedicte Foo 120 Notes and references 137 Further reading 143 Page Illustrations Page • 1. Local Government Board's house design, 1917 30 • 2. Local Government Board's house design, 1919 33 • 3. Co-operative house design, 1909-13 35 • 4. Urban obstacle courses 42 • 5. Design Guide's view ofsocial interaction 45 • 6. Design Guide's movement patterns for women and children 48 • 7. Design guidance for 'inviting' routes 50 • 8. Design guidance for 'defining territory' 50 • 9. A typical plan of a room 57 • 10. Plan and sketch ofa window 57 • 11. Plan and sketch of a door 58 • 12. Planofstairs 58 • 13. Vertical slice through a house 59 • 14. Weaver's house, 1784-1830 60 • 15. Model dwellings, 1851 62 • 16. Town house, 1864, showing men's and women's rooms 65 • 17. Town house, 1864, showing segregation of servants and family 66 • 18. Early twentieth-century terraced house 68 • 19. 'Garden City' cottage, early twentieth century 70 • 20. Semi-detached suburban house, 1930s 73 • 21. Council house, 1940s 75 • 22. Nuclear house, 1960s 77 • 23. 'Mr and Mrs Average' 83 • 24. 'Activity zones and sequences' 84 • 25. 'Time and activity chart' 86 • 26. Health Centre plans 93 • 27. Women's training workshop 94 • 28. Children's Centre plans 95 • 29. ModelofChildren'sCentre 98 • 30. A wartime British Restaurant 110 • 31. London civic restaurant, 1949 116 Preface The authors of this book belong to a group of feminist designers col- lectively known as Matrix. We are women who share a concern about the way buildings and cities work for women. We work as architects, teachers in higher education, researchers, mothers, a builder, a journalist and a housing manager. Working together on this book was for most of us a first chance to develop ideas about buildings with other women; and we have learnt a lot from each other. In our paid jobs some of us have chosen to work with women; others work with men. Most of us live with men, three of us have children and about half of us live in collective households. We did not set out to be a consciousness-raising group, but have brought individual experience of the women's movement to a group whose common ground is involvement with buildings. Many of us were members of the New Architecture Movement in the late 1970s. NAM was a mixed group of socialist architects together with some students, teachers and builders. It was con- cerned to make architects more accountable to those who use build- ings and questioned the relationship between user and architect, and to a lesser extent (but important for some of us) that between architect and builder. A feminist discussion group emerged and organised a conference in March 1979 called 'Women and Space'. The conference attracted about 200 women, and some men from a variety of backgrounds. Though interest in the subject was evi- dently great, there was very little published work then available. This gave some of us the idea of meeting regularly and eventually to produce a book. From unstructured exploratory discussion we moved in the autumn of 1980 to more formal meetings where we discussed in depth the ideas each woman was working on. Some women devel- vii Making Space oped themes arising from their research interests, some analysed aspects of architectural practice and others talked directly from their experience of childcare and how they lived. Three members of the group produced an exhibition called 'Home Truths', developing the theme of women and the design of houses. Partly in response to outside interest in our work, including requests for speakers, we formed an umbrella organization known as Matrix, which com- prised wom11n working on the book and the group involved in archi- tectural design and in producing the exhibition. Some of us were involved in all the projects. Our intentions were to work together as women to develop a feminist approach to design through practical projects and theoretical analysis, and to communicate our ideas more widely. Our training and our work in Matrix have helped us to look critically at the way our built surroundings can affect women in this society. These skills have been useful to us, and we want to share them with others to help us all develop an understanding of how we are 'placed' as women in a man-made environment and to use that knowledge to subvert it. viii Acknowledgements Although most chapters in this book are by individual authors we have all benefited from the collective comments of the group. Susan Wilkes and Anne Thorne contributed much advice, support, criti- cism and encouragement. We also warmly thank Clare Herniman and Sylvia Thorne for typing, and for their constructive criticisms of earlier drafts, Pippa Gladhill, Judy Attfield, Madeleine Ray, and Paul Crane ofPluto Press. We would like to acknowledge the follow- ing for permission to tise copyright material: Liz Millen for the photographs reproduced in chapter 4; the GLC Department of Archi- tecture and Civic Design for the illustrations from An Introduction to Housing Layout, 1978, reproduced in chapter 4; the Controller of Her Majesty's Stationery Office for the illustrations from Spaces in the Home, 1972, and Housing the Family, 1974, reproduced in chapter 6; and the GLC Photographic Library and the Trustees of the Mass Observation Archive, University of Sussex, for the photo- graphs reproduced in chapter 8. Some of us have helpers to thank: Jane Darke to Emma Hen- rion and Roy Darke; Barbara McFarlane to Judith Alien; Sue Fran- cis to Sunand Prasad, Frances Bradshaw and Jane Darke; Marion Roberts to Alan Lipman and Madeleine Arnot; Frances Bradshaw to Liz Millen and Jessica Datta. Benedicte Foo would like to thank Mike Jones for his encouragement to keep struggling with the chapter, Aleda Erslieve for providing her flat as a haven of peace and quiet for thinking and writing, and her mother Rosalind Foo and Kim and Kate without whom this piece would never have been written. She would like to thank Alexi, Linda, Caroline, Sue and Val for talking so openly and in such detail about their arrange- ments for and feelings about childcare, housework, cooking, getting about and family and friends. ix 1. Introduction This book is about women's relationship to buildings and to the spaces between them - our created surroundings, including homes, their arrangement in relation to one another, to public spaces, transport routes, workplaces and the layout of cities. Our built or created environment is made in accordance with a set of ideas about how society works, who does what and who goes where. A woman's place? Consider your own surroundings. If you are reading this at home. for instance, you are probably in almost the only place where you can impose something of your own individuality on your environ- ment, limited of course by money, by space and time, by whom you live with and how, and by whether or not you own the place. Because home is the only place with this potential freedom we value and strive for it. But for women there is another side. We will be judged by the quality of environment we can make, by neighbours, relations and friends - even if this is in circumstances over which we have little control, like a badly designed or 'sink' estate or a cramped 'starter' home. Behind every woman is the image of the 'ideal home'. The ideology of domesticity, which describes how things ought to be and ought to look, will always affect what we do even when we are react- ing against it. The home is also a retreat, a place removed from outside press- ures where we can relax and be 'ourselves'. It makes a physical boundary between the environment we can control and the seemingly uncontrolled world outside. For most employed men, this physical boundary makes a clear mental distinction. Outside it they Making Space work; inside it they are at leisure. For women this division is much less clear- the world does not fall into such a neat pattern. There is, after all, a lot of work to be done in the home. As women it is assumed that we will be ultimately responsible for the upkeep and general maintenance of our homes whether we have another job or not. Again, we will be judged by the quality of our housework, how- ever successful or hardworking we are in other spheres. Even when others contribute to this work, the primary responsibility remains with women. We are conscious of its demands at all times; responsi- bilities cannot be shut off by retreating into a 'room of one's own'- within traditional nuclear families there is no real privacy for women. Every woman who has children knows both the pleasure of bringing them up and the isolation that passes for privacy, the con- stant commitment that leaves no space or time to oneself. Some do not even have a semblance of separation from other individuals and families; they have to suffer overcrowded conditions and noise booming through paper thin walls and floors. The pleasure that many of us get from our homes carries certain contradictions. The fact that within the home women have a greater degree of power than they have outside it reinforces the assumption that a woman's place is in the home. Man-made world The initial decisions to build are made by those owning or having control over large sums of money. Even such a sma1l building as a house costs the equivalent of several years' average earnings. A building may be commissioned by a future user- for example a firm wanting a factory or office for their own use or a client inviting an architect to design a house. It may be ouilt as a speculative venture without a particular user in mind. or it may be commissioned on behalf of the users. The latter is the case where the state is client for schools, hospitals and council houses. The client or developer is nearly always a man or a committee consisting almost entirely of men. simply because very few women occupy positions of power in organizations and because men own or control most wealth. The cli- ent or developer will probably brief an architect- about 95 per cent of whom are men 1 - who helps them to clarify their requirements and then designs a building or scheme to meet these needs. The architect may alter the scheme in the light of comments from the client and others, but it is extremely unusual for architects to make any attempt to consult those who will actually use the buildings. Professional codes of conduct and 'normal practice' do not encourage them to do so. Jane Darke in 'Women, architects and fem- inism' shows how difficult it is for women in the profession who are trying to establish their own credibility to challenge these norms. The site will be subject to planning restrictions - the number of houses allowed, the floor area of an office or factory, the arrange- ments for access and parking, the appearance of the buildings in relation to their surroundings and so on. The scheme must also com- ply with building regulations. There must be proper sanitation, ven- tilation and means of fire escape. These constraints on the freedom of the client and architect are intended to ensure that the interests of the public are safeguarded. The planners and local councillors who make and apply these rules are, like architects, usually male. They do not necessarily promote their own interest at the expense of women's, but they may not have considered whether different sec- tions of the population have different environmental needs. Lack of consideration may show itself at all levels of decision-making, from the layout of kitchens in council houses, or public buildings made inaccessible to people with prams or wheelchairs, to the whole rela- tionship between home, workplace and other facilities which may affect women differently to men. Women's voices are not heard dur- ing this decision-making process which is supposed to ensure that building development takes place in a socially responsible way. When both the client and the local authority are satisfied with the architect's proposal, arrangements will be made to build the scheme, using an almost all-male workforce. In short, women play almost no part in making decisions about or in creating the environ- ment. It is a man-made environment. · Opposition to this aspect of male domination must occur in the context of other challenges to conventional views about women's roles. Demands for change have taken various forms at different times. The present women's movement can provide the stimulus for challenges to men's power to determine the environment. This book is one such challenge. An earlier example, from which we can draw lessons, of feminist influence on the arrangement of buildings occurred during the first world war. In 'Homes fit for heroines', Bar- bara McFarlane shows how the approach taken by a government Introduction 3 Making Space women's committee was influenced by the women's movement of that time and in turn modified designs for post-war housing pro- posed by the government. Outside the home Women's independence is severely restricted outside the home. Ifwe walk on the streets after dark, we are accused of inviting violent sexual attack from men. If we do not have cheap and convenient public transport, we are physically restricted since most of us cannot afford a private alternative. If we are with our children we are made unwelcome in pubs, shops, restaurants and public buildings. Recent urban planning has provided us with a cold, alienating environment in which buildings have become free-standing 'objects' lost in a sea of unusable open space, disconnected from each other and linked by roads which merely serve the function of getting from A to B as quickly as possible. Modern cities have been planned to segregate different aspects of life; homes, shops, factories and offices are all in separate areas. This segregation has affected women more than men, because our lives have never been so neatly partitioned between the different areas of work, leisure and home in the way that men's have. Jos Boys, in 'Women and public spaces', shows how the ideal ofa home physically separate from the workplace reinforces a division of labour by gender inside and outside the home by tying women more closely to a locality than men. She shows how this idealized separ- ation has affected the appearance and layout of contemporary hous- ing estates even in the inner city to keep women 'distanced' from the public world. Much of our environment has been designed on the basis of stereotypes of women's and men's work, their respective 'proper' locations and their relative importance. The arrangement of cities, the distances between homes, workplaces, and other buildings rein- force the assumption that workers are men, working for most of the day away from the home with little or no responsibility for its day- to-day running and for childcare. It is assumed that women don't work outside the home and that they do look after homes and chil- dren. But only a small number of households conform to this pat- tern. Less than a third of households consist of a husband, wife and dependent children, and in more than half of these the mother has a 4 paid job outside the home.~ About one in nine of all households con- sists of a man with a paid job, a woman without one, and children under the age of 16. What's wrong with modem architecture? Our criticisms of the arrangement of buildings and cities have been influenced by ideas from two sources. One is the women's movement over the past 15 years; we assume that readers have some familiar- ity with feminist ideas. Our own collective assumptions are explained in a later section. The other influence is the growing criti- cism of modern architecture. For about 20 years after the war there was a collective confi- dence among architects. New needs and social patterns, born of war- time devastation and the will to reform, required new buildings. Architects took their theories about design from the Modern Move- ment. The form of a building, it was believed, should be derived from its functions, and its exterior should suggest what went on inside without resorting to stylistic clothing borrowed from the past. New technologies and materials also created new possibilities for built form. Offices could be built with walls entirely of glass; the job of supporting the structure would be done by columns set back from the facade. Large, unencumbered spaces could be constructed using steel, concrete and plastics. Using concrete, buildings could be made higher than before to provide more homes within a given area. For about a generation architects were given a great deal of freedom to build their vision of the new society. Gradually it became apparent that architects' grandiose theor- ies did not fit the way oflife that people wanted to follow. The forms of buildings were influenced by economic and political pressures rather than social needs. In the pursuit of profit, speculators tore down urban landmarks that local people had held in affection. Councillors were easily persuaded that their city needed a more modern image. Politicians believed that the massive housing prob- lem would be solved by the use of new materials, factory-made com- ponents and mass construction of standardized units. The results were characterless office blocks and disastrous 'streets in the sky', where people were supposed to have their homes. High-rise flats were and are acceptable to some households. But the grim appear- ance of much high-rise housing has come to symbolize all that is Introduction 5 Making Space wrong in modern architecture and its narrow view of social needs and aspirations. The crisis in architecture was not a purely professional turmoil. Community groups started to protest about poor housing and the siting of roads and important buildings. Articles and television pro- grammes portrayed the mistakes of architects and planners. Archi- tects reacted to this loss of public confidence in different ways. Some architects, aware of the danger of professional remote- ness, tried to democratize design and make their skills more avail- able to tenants and community groups. Radical groups of architects, economists and planners discussed such questions as the reason for building a particular structure, for whom and by whom it is built, how the production of buildings is connected to the workings of a developed capitalist economy and the effects of building and plan- ning on the lives of ordinary people. These debates were important in developing our critical perspective on architectural practice. However, we came to realize that although these radical groups accepted some of the ideas of the women's movement, there was a gap in our understanding of architecture and building design from a feminist point of view. We believe that the question of what has 'gone wrong' with modern architecture cannot be discussed adequa- tely without an awareness of the invisibility of women's lives to the professionals who plan buildings and cities. The chapters that follow develop these ideas. A feminist response At the same time as small groups ofsocialist architects, mostly men, were discussing the relationship between the architect and society, a broadly based feminist movement was questioning assumptions about women's place in society and the 'natural division' between the sexes. This book draws on discussion and action in the women's movement. For women have also taken action which makes demands upon the environment. 'Reclaim the Night' marches have demonstrated women's anger at men's appropriation of parts of the city where women's bodies are exploited. Campaigns for community facilities have made clear women's real need to break out of the iso- lation and individualization of housework and childcare. Women's Aid have demanded safe places for women to go to escape from 6 violent male partners. During the Yorkshire Ripper murders women in Northern England protested at police suggestions that they shouldn't go out at night and instead proposed a curfew on men. We have also drawn on the debate about the nature of house- work3 and on a growing number of studies that examine the rela- tionship between women and the environment. In Britain, Leonora Davidoff and Catherine Hall have been particularly important; so too is the work of the Women and Housing group. We were also encouraged by the publication of work by American feminists. Gwendolyn Wright and Dolores Hayden have written about women's involvement in ideal communities in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries and about nineteenth century feminist ideas about housing and housework.4 Others have written about the effects of post-war urban planning and the growth of suburbs on women, and about women and homelessness.5 As feminists we share the objective of challenging the subordin- ate position of women. Among feminists there are differences ab'but whether the liberation of women can take place without a revolu- tionary transformation of society, about whether gender or class is the more significant factor in the oppression of women (and hence whether middle-class women have any identity of interests with working-class women), and about whether it is realistic to hope for a change in the behaviour of men or for men voluntarily to relinquish their privileges. Within our group there are differences ofopinion on these issues, but we have some understandings in common. These are that the divisions and antagonisms between men and women are social and not biological in origin. There are, of course, physical differences between men and women. But this biological division has been transformed into social constructions of gender- 'masculi- nity' and 'femininity'. We do not accept that because females bear children they are unable to mix mortar and lay bricks. Nor do we accept that males who are able to design buildings are somehow incapable of cleaning lavatories and changing nappies. What men and women do for most of their lives is a product of social structures and expectations, not of biology. We believe, however, that precisely because women are brought up differently in our society we have dif- ferent experiences and needs in relation to the built environment which are rarely expressed. There can be little doubt that men gain in current definitions of 7 Introduction Making Space masculinity and femininity. Men enjoy higher status, a higher stan- dard of living and personal service at the expense of women. We think these privileges should be undermined by giving women equa- lity of opportunity. However, there are very positive aspects to the socializing experience of women. We think that men would gain from having a more caring role in society. Males have dominated in almost all societies for almost the whole of recorded history, but this domination has taken different forms at particular historical times. For instance, capitalist methods of production removed some types of productive activity from the home and so reinforced the male notion that women should be protected from the harsh world of business and 'work'. 'House Designs and Women's Roles' analyses a series of plans, mostly of types of house in use today, to see what assumptions are made about family life and the role of women in the home. In 'Housing the family', Susan Francis dissects the stereo- typed image of the family, and of women in particular, that are seen in design guides written to advise architects on house plan- ning. Feminism and architecture We have not produced a blueprint for a feminist architecture. When we talk to individuals and groups about our work, we often get asked what feminist design would be like, whether women design different sorts of buildings from men. or what should be done to design buildings more sympathetic to women. Some people have imagined that women design round. curving buildings, while men build phallic towers. We have come to see this as a caricature of what feminist design might be. There are no instant answers to these questions. This book has not been written to provide architects with a do-it-yourself feminist architecture kit. We are not prescribing the solution; we are describ- ing a problem. so as to help women understand their own relation- ship to the built environment and to help architects understand how the environment is a problem for women. Feminist architects are trying to take account of women's experience. and to respond to other feminists' initiatives. In 'Work- ing with women', Frances Bradshaw describes the work of the Matrix Design Group which works primarily with women's groups. R We feel that radical building design and research start from per- sonal concerns, from a growing awareness that our man-made sur- roundings are not neutral, that there is some sort of contradiction between the lived experience of many women and the particular physical patterns that our built surroundings make. For instance, a chain of symbolic associations, 'private, home, warmth, stability, comfort', are literally built into a physical setting, set in direct oppo- sition to 'public, competitive, aggressive, stimulating', in a way that does not accurately describe the realities for women and often obscures other possible relationships which might suit women better. Marion Roberts, in 'Private kitchens, public cooking', looks at experimental communal restaurants run by the state during the second world war. She shows how these upset conventional nine- teenth- a,nd twentieth-century oppositions between public and pri- vate, by turning eating and the provision of meals into a public affair and a public service for the first (and only) time in this country. We can learn from these alternative experiments but they do not provide any easy answers. There may for instance be a contra- diction between the needs and desires of many women now, and longer term aims. For example, we argue for more childcare facili- ties now to ease the burden on women of looking after children. But this does not mean that we think women should be solely respon- sible for children. We look in the long run to a more equal concern between women and men for looking after children. We do not believe that the buildings around us are part ofa con- spiracy to oppress women. They have developed from other priori- ties, notably the profit motive. The property boom ofthe early 1960s helped to transform many inner-city areas into single function areas, which became lifeless and dangerous when the workers rettirned home, and where the quality ofinternal and external space for users and members of the public was hardly considered. Even buildings designed by architects with strong political or social intentions have often misinterpreted women's needs. There has been a benign but false assumption that all sections of the popula- tion want the environment to do the same things for them. Buildings do not control our lives. They reflect the dominant values in our society, political and architectural views, people's demands and the constraints of finance, but we can live in them in Introduction 9 Making Space different ways from those originally intended. Buildings only affect us insomuch as they contain ideas about women, about our 'proper place', about what is private and what is public activity, about which things should be kept separate and which put together. But this does not determine how we live. Just as language contains and perpetuates certain ideas about women, so do buildings, but in a less direct way·. As feminist architects and designers we want to avoid the architectural determinism that sees building-users as puppets, capable of being manipulated according to the architect's idea of desired behaviour. The arrangement of space in and between build- ings is a reflection of accepted views which may have a greater or lesser effect on the occupants - or which may have unintended effects on social life in general. We have tried to avoid assuming that our experiences and views are universal. Even though we hope to speak of all women's experience, we are directly limited by our own history. All of us have come through higher education, mostly with a training in architecture, and thus fit into the conventional definition of the white, middle class. We have all felt angered by male domination at work and in cities and we believe that our experience is a common one for women. We hope this book will help women to understand how the man-made environment fails to.work for them and will start some ideas about how things could be different 10 2. Women, architects and feminism There are two questions we are often asked: do women architects design differently from men, and if not, why not? My argument is that architects are out of touch with those who use their buildings, and that their professional training is part of the process that removes them from many of the people they design for. Architects who are women, and/or come from a working-class background, have to acquire an outlook similar to that of middle-class males, the dominant group in the architectural profession.1 This is why we shouldn't expect buildings designed by women to have any qualities distinct from those designed by men. The possibility of women architects adopting a different attitude depends in part on the existence of a feminist movement, and on whether the movement stresses the problems of women in general or only those of a limited group. The consciousness of women architects in the past has partly reflected the state of the women's movement at large, so the recent growth in awareness of feminist issues may offer a new potential for feminist design. Buildings and the spaces in and around them affect women's lives both physically and through the ideas they express, that are literally 'built in' to them. The physical effects on women are clear enough. For example, a house may be awkwardly arranged, so that it creates extra work; the distance to facilities may be excessive and the route to them may expose us to danger; once there, we may not be able to use certain facilities because they are inaccessible to wheelchairs or pushchairs. Over and above these material prob- lems, there may be social constraints on us as women - where it is 'appropriate' to be, at what time and with whom. Even if your local library is accessible to pushchairs, you may still face disapproval if you take small children in. We are allowed into pubs alone, but once 11 Making Space in we have to behave in a certain way if we are not to attract unwanted attention from men. Separate zones for home and work tell us that we are meant to compartmentalize our lives in this way. All buildings we use have particular ideas built into them about what and who is important and who is not. Some men can show their status in the home with a study - a room of their own. Often 'women's' rooms, such as the kitchen, are small and placed well away from the public world of the street. The relative size and impressiveness of rooms and buildings, the relationship of spaces to each other and the people whose convenience is given priority all help to define what is normal, what is better or worse in our society. If a block of council flats looks like a filing cabinet or prison, we are right in thinking that this carries ideas about the status of people who live there. The built environment is oppressive for many women, in ways that we do not yet know how to explain. What is more, the form of this oppression changes through time and with place, and the indi- vidual woman's experience of it varies according to factors such as class, race, personality and sexual preference. Who is it, then, who patterns a particular set of social relation- ships into the physical environment? In almost all classifications of social class, architects are placed in the highest category, along with other 'highE'r professionals' like doctor&, lawyers and business execu- tives.:.~ Figures for architects' earnings show that these far exceed average earnings. Becoming an architect To become an architect requires a lengthy period of higher edu- cation; school-leavers who pass into universities and polytechnics are overwhelmingly from middle-class backgrounds. The process of training student architects does not normally bring them into con- tact with building users. It is unusual for students to be brought face to face with a real client. Nor does the training encourage students to become aware of the gaps in their knowledge of a wide range of lifestyles, or to fill these gaps. The main method of learning to design buildings at a school of architecture is to start with a small. simple building and gradually work up to more complicated problems over the five years of a course. There are lectures on aspects of building design but the 12 design exercises are the core of the course. The students are encour- aged to work in the studios within the school, where the tutors can wander among the drawing boards and discuss the students' ideas for the building as they develop. The sources of ideas may include meetings with imaginary client, visits to other buildings or searches through magazines for relevant previous schemes, and possibly the use of design guides like those discussed in chapter 6. Talking to ordinary users of buildings is not a routine part of the process. The tutors are similar to the groups that dominate the architec- tural profession in general: the majority are white, middle-class men. Talk over the drawing boards includes a hidden curriculum on how to behave as an architect, with anecdotes about the eccentrici- ties of well-known practitioners or their cavalier attitude to clients. (Architects resent their dependence on clients, just as some doctors hate patients. The client has to be 'contended with', especially in the case of a committee-client such as a hospital board or housing com- mittee.)3 A figure half-ridiculed and half-admired is the 'prima donna architect' (usually male) who convinces the client that it is a privilege to have secured his services and who feels free to subordin- ate the client's requirements to his own flights of fancy. This arrogance may be tolerated or even encouraged by the pro- cess of evaluation of student projects, which takes place at a 'crit' where the tutors, assisted perhaps by visiting 'experts', comment on each student's proposals. The student is expected to explain and jus- tify her or his decisions in the face of questions and criticisms; to defend the decisions made rather than to admit that they may have been based on insufficient knowledge. Students thus learn to con- struct plausible rationalizations rather than to recognize their own weakness. The production of beautiful drawings may become an end in itself or a means of disguising the defects in a scheme rather than a means of showing that the student has understood the problem and arrived at a reasonable solution, using particular arrangements and methods of construction. The attitudes of architects Once the student is qualified, the norms for discovering the needs of future building users on real projects are vague. There is no pro- fessional pressure to ensure that the designers ofpublic sector hous- ing, for example, have close contact with existing council tenants. Women, architects and feminism 13 Making Space On a research project, I asked some architects of recent, acclaimed public sector housing schemes what they thought of council ten- ants.4 Their replies revealed the tremendous gap between them- selves and the users of their buildings. I sort of wonder whether there is a kind of subculture of people about whom one knows very little ... people that have moved out of very tough working-class areas . . . who just have differ- ent expectations, they don't have the sort of middle-class expec- tations that one is thinking they're going to have ... Ijust don't know. They lavish attention on their houses; they're very very good tenants, most of them, in GLC and local authority housing. I'm always being absolutely staggered at the way they occupy [a housel ... I went into some ofthe big family units, one or two of the black ones and an Irish one, and they've done them up very well, I mean bizarre tAste of course, most extraordinary coloured carpets and things like this, but very well. And they've covered all the lousy tiles that we had to put in with close car- peting, fitted carpets, and big television sets: you name it, they've got it ... There's one old woman on the ground floor who's a born complainer ... when I asked her how she liked the flat she said, 'Oh, inside it's all right but this is like a prison,' and we were in the street you see. and I thought 'Oh Christ, it doesn't look like a prison to me. but if it looks like a prison to her, she's probably got nearer to a prison then I ever have.' Big families are a killer on these sites. they are the main source of vandalism. these big families. We've come to the conclusion that if one ever got the programme again with big families, they somehow ought to be put in a corner by themselves where almost they don't have access to the rest of the building ... I think big families tend <to bel ... They arejust problem fami- lies. lnterl'iewer: Do you think there are extra problems for families like that on 'streets in the air' rather than streets on the ground? No, I think that whatever you did with them they are problems, stop. That is. they make their own problems. I think actually 14 the only thing society might do to help such families is probably try and persuade them to go back to more rural areas where the unkempt kind of life can be less damaging to the younger chil- dren. Y ou can't help feeling they'd be far better off in Ireland on a peat bog, running about with chickens. The last speaker was more extreme than most of the architects I interviewed; the first speaker was more typical in the way that some lifestyles were seen as an uncertain, unknown quantity. Only one of the seven architects I interviewed came from a working-class back- ground. I was brought up in a very high density, low income, South London, typical stress area, in which I can remember the prob- lems of pure screaming kids and prams and bad weather and balconies and railings, all those things produced, even as a child. This architect's approach to housing design was shaped by such memories in a way that was much more difficult for the architects who lacked that experience. Their housing schemes, not sur- prisingly, reflected their lack of understanding. The scheme by the first speaker was carefully designed around what he assumed to be the needs of young children and their mothers, with small blocks of fiats for old people scattered among the family houses. A lot of the women in the houses feel they don't have enough privacy; the old people in the fiats feel isolated; and there is considerable tension between young and old. The second speaker's scheme really did look like a prison. It was based on the designer's image of gregarious, working-class street life, but the design was such that people suf- fered their neighbours' noise through walls and floors; again there was conflict between different age groups, and little sense of com- munity. The third scheme was a concrete slab, ten storeys high, con- sidered hideous by almost all the residents, most of whom want to leave. The speaker's reference to a high rate of vandalism was accurate, but there was no evidence that it was caused by large families from Ireland. Women architects Have women architects brought to their work a consciousness that women's socially defined role is problematic? If so, it might open the Women, architects and feminism 15 Making Space possibility that their schemes could recognize women's needs better, that their schemes will be perceived as less alienating and oppress- ive than the 'man-made environment'. This is not likely to come about unless there is some evidence of feminist consciousness in women architects. By pursuing pro- fessional careers some have escaped at feast partially from conven- tional women's roles. If they wish to combine a career with marriage and parenthood they are liable to experience strain in the combi- nation of architect, mother and wife which is not usually present for architects who are also husbands and fathers. See for example the account and diaries of the husband-and-wife partnership referred to as 'The Bensons' in Dual Career Families, first published in 1971.5 The Bensons' domestic and work lives are closely interleaved, in part because the home and office occupy different floors in a single house. On a typical day Mr Benson gets up at 9 and works in the office from 10 until 7 with breaks for lunch and tea. Mrs Benson gets up at 7.55 and carries out a variety ofhousehold chores before start- ing work in the office at 11.40. The rest of her working day is inter- spersed with domestic activities. She bears by far the greater responsibility for running the home, and the nature of this work is such that it constantly interrupts her architectural work. Mrs Benson does not appear to resent her dual burden or the fact that her participation in the work role is more limited than Mr Benson's. Marriage and children are very important to her; she 'would have died if she hadn't married'. Mr Benson had 'conven- tional' male resistance to being tied down. Mrs Benson dislikes machines, does not drive, and leaves technical aspects ofdesign, 'the plumbing and structural hardware'. to her husband. She specializes in interiors and colours. Mrs Benson illustrates one way of adapting to the role of woman architect: one which challenges other aspects of the female role as little as possible. Although the combination of roles may be a strain, it is seen as a normal price to pay, a personal issue, not as re- flecting a problem in the way social roles are defined. In effect this type of career woman can deny that the women's movement has any value. Mrs Benson says that she respects masculine men and 'can't stand the first whiff of a reversal situation'. Other women architects who spoke about their situation, in a special issue of Architectural Design on women and architecture in 1975, voiced similar senti- ments.u One woman thought that the 'women's issue' is altogether 16 overrated when it comes to architecture and other professions. In fact, she feels that undue attention paid to women in certain circum- stances tends to denigrate their achievements, and she wants to have no part in the women's movement. Later the same woman described her priorities, in a household in which a large number of individuals apparently depend on her, both she and her husband having children from previous marriages: I know I'm lucky because I've got an enormous amount of physi- cal energy. I rarely get tired other than nervously. The most important role I play is being a wife ... Physical energy is no problem, doing the washing and the cooking and the shopping. OK, it's like having a dinner party every night for 8 people: it's actually just a technical problem; you alter your getting up times and you can cope with that sort of thing. It's the require- ment of mental energy, I think, to make everybody feel they're important. A former colleague of hers took a similar line: In architecture the problems of women's lib do not exist. In short, any woman who wants to be can be, full stop ... With two boys nuw 7 and 9 and a built-in aversion to au-pairs this has meant an involvement in the practice which is wholehearted but not whole time ... There's never enough time for every- thing. I do indulge in jazz dancing classes, guitar lessons, movies and some, but not enough, travel. Not to mention toys like paper kites, cassette tapes and cookbooks. Others are slightly more willing to admit the possibility of a prob- lem: Combining career/family has been constructively traumatic. It has meant 1) paying people to replace myself- six hours a week housework, 20 hours a week childminding . . . 2J using my friends; 3) knowing that when all seems lost, something will turn up. I am finding career and family totally exhausting: at it seven- teen hours a day and nothing really well done . . . The unplanned arrival of my third has thrown a tremendous burden on my family. Childminding . . . is the biggest problem, for which society offers little or no help. Women, architects and feminism 17 Making Space Some of these designers may identify with the situation of women as users of architect-designed buildings; others would probably dismiss the suggestion that women experience particular problems, as they dismiss the problems of women as architects. Similar attitudes have been described by Margherita Rendel: Girls who are of unusual ability and commitment should be allowed to pursue their interests, enter professions, become scholars, have careers, but they are very exceptional. This is the modern version of the Nun. To follow a career requires, it is thought, a genuine sense of vocation ... Women who pursue careers must be careful how they do it. They must not lose their femininity or become intimidating or formidable. They must be better at the job than men, but should be .content with the opportunity to have a career and the satisfaction of the work itself rather than to receive recognition. Those women who are very exceptional may be accepted into the male establishment. Such a woman becomes, as it were, a male by adoption . . . Some women adopt this role with so much enthusiasm that they wish to be the only woman to play it ... They have been called Queen Bees. Those women who have been eo-opted to the male elite, but who are permitted to argue gently and occasionally on behalf of their sex may be called Token Women and those women whose place in the male elite is precarious - who must all the time consider whether they are going too far - may be called Precipice Women. Many of the women in the situations described by these labels believe that because they have 'made it', other women can too ... These women in no way challenge the existing distribution of power or means ofaccess to power.7 The consciousness of women architects must be understood in a historical and social context, in the light ofchanging attitudes to the role of women. 'Mrs Benson' and most of the women architects quoted above began their careers in the post-war period but before the revival of the women's movement which started in the late 1960s. This was a time of consolidation of the gains made by the first women architects, but the social climate was such that to break new ground would have been extremely difficult. 18 Women architects in the past There have been attempts to recover a lost feminist tradition in some areas of knowledge or branches of the arts. For example, women scholars have studied the work of women writers and artists to see how their creativity arose from their experiences and social awareness as women, and how they influenced one another. In the USA a group of women have written an excellent account called Women in American Architecture.8 In Britain the history of women architects has yet to be written. If there were women practising as designers in past centuries, their contribution has not been ack- nowledged. Nor do we know of any collective action by women to gain membership of the Royal Institute of British Architects (RIB Al. One of the best-known campaigns in the history of feminism is the battle of a few persistent and determined women to qualify as doctors and to have their qualifications recognized. Elizabeth Gar- rett Anderson and then Sophia Jex Blake and her comrades finally won the right to practise. Yet for generations following their victor- ies, women doctors were concentrated in low-status, part-time jobs without prospects. Now, as the numbers of women doctors and medi- cal students rise, there are increasingly strong challenges to this state of affairs. In architecture, there are some parallels with the progress of women in the medical profession, although with a time lapse of about a generation. The first women were not admitted to RIBA until the late 1890s. There may have been earlier women working as architects without belonging to RIBA, because, unlike the medical profession, registration was not compulsory. In 1898 Ethel Mary Charles had passed the RIBA examinations and, according to their statutes, was entitled to become a member. After a long debate, the RIBA Council decided that they would appear more foolish if they excluded her than if they admitted her.9 Ethel's sister, Bessie Ada Charles, was the second woman member and joined in 1900; but there was no great rush to follow them. A third woman joined in 1911, and three more in 1922. RIBA has no record of any buildings designed by their first women members, though Ethel Charles won their essay medal in 1905. Women continued to be a small minority within the pro- fession. Although they may have identified with each other as 'women in a man's world', it would have been difficult for the small number of women architects to take collective action to challenge Women, architects and feminism 19 Making Space either male dominance in the profession, or the current assumptions about the role of the architect. Following the winning of the vote in 1918 and 1928, the charac- ter of the women's movement changed. Sheila Rowbotham says: The women in the thirties who continued to campaign ... con- tributed to the erosion of the pre-war feminist conscious- ness ... Feminism meant more reforms, more welfare, equal pay ... It was no longer in opposition to the structure and cul- ture ofcapitalist male-dominated society ... The liberal femi- nists came to define success as the recognition and approval by the power structure they had opposed. They measured the pro- gress of women in the rise of a minority to competence and the bestowal of honours upon a few. 10 The professional lives oftwo women architects- Elizabeth Scott and Jane Drew- illustrate this change. Elizabeth Scott was one ofa minority of women who gained the recognition of the male estab- lishment; she won the competition to rebuild the Shakespeare Memorial Theatre at Stratford-upon-Avon in 1928. Entries were anonymous; hers was chosen unanimously by the judges. The Shak- espeare Theatre is one of the outstanding buildings of its time. It was conclusive evidence that women were able to perform as well as men in architecture; it did not, of course, challenge accepted ideas about what made good buildings, or whom a building of this type was for. Unfortunately she wrote nothing about her role as a woman architect. Elizabeth Scott was 29 when she won the Stratford competition. She had a rather short subsequent career which included work for Newnham College, Cambridge. She married and took an early retirement in 1939, and died in 1972.11 Jane Drew started her career in the 1930s and continued it after the war, much of the time in collaboration with her husband, Maxwell Fry. Drew resolved as a child not to change her name on marriage, and she supported other women professionals by using their services where possible and persuading her husband to do the same.1~ She is clearly at pains to be a good architect and to investi- gate thoroughly the requirements of those for whom she designs buildings. She and her husband were among the British avant- garde championing the cause ofthe Modern Movement in the 1930s. Yet the position of an accepted and able practitioner seems to 20 have prevented any strong challenge to the norms of professional- ism. It may be that women such as Scott and Drew perceived no need to question these norms. After all, to prove one's competence as an architect to a sceptical world must have been deeply satisfying. Why occupy the dangerous role of Precipice Women when a step over the edge could call into question not only one's own suitability to practise, but also that of other women? The post-war period was in some ways more difficult for women attempting to pursue pro- fessional careers. The ethos of the late 1940s and 1950s strongly emphasized the importance of 'family life'. The Beveridge Report told women that their work as housewives was vital to the nation, l:J and enshrined in the social security system their dependence upon a male breadwinner. Child psychologists stressed the importance to the child of the mother's continual presence. The working mother who had latchkey children was deplored. This was not an auspicious time for women to advance their position in architecture. Like Mrs Benson, they probably considered themselves fortunate to be pursuing a career at all. As women con- tinued to form a very small percentage of all architects, every woman practitioner had to demonstrate anew to sceptical colleagues that she was capable of doing the job. Since the very desire for a career was seen as unnatural compared with the rival attractions of homemaking, a career woman was stereotyped as being hardbitten and masculine or pitiably unmarriageable and frustrated. Yet because a few women had succeeded in the profession, their pres- ence was taken as evidence that there was no barrier to women's acceptance. Any problems were seen as individual ones, and could be attributed to a woman's 'wrong attitude'. Is there a problem? What is the experience ofwomen as students and practitioners? Although not all women feel the situation is problematic, there has been a tendency for more women than men to drop out of courses.14 Women entrants to schools of architecture have a variety of attitudes when they arrive. Some have come from schools and homes in which it is taken for granted that they would go into higher education and pursue a career, possibly irrespective of their own wishes. Others have had to struggle to establish this right, or to deal with careers advisers who discouraged girls from choosing Women, architects and feminism 21 Making Space architecture. They may also have felt themselves under pressure as girls not to seem too clever, especially at science or mathematics. They may not have had the chance to develop useful manual skills like woodwork or model-making. Once in a school of architecture, many of us found it was extremely difficult to identify with a future role as an architect because we never came into contact with women practitioners. If we voiced anxieties about our future role, these were met with a brisk denial of any problem, rather than an attempt to explore our feel- ings. We were aware, to varying degrees, of differences in the treat- ment of women and men students- often difficult to pin down. We often felt that our work was not taken as seriously as the men's. Women students may find they can get away with errors that male students can't- but they will also receive less constructive criticism and help. Tutors may expect women to design 'interesting', 'sensi- tive' schemes rather than bold and striking ones. If they do design a bold project the designs may be reclassified as 'showing hidden sensitivity' or the designer reclassified as 'not really feminine'. There are also pressures from male students and, later, collea- gues who hope that the women they work with might change their behaviour or appearance to fit their own concept ofhow 'girls' should act or look. In some cases their image of women is made apparent through pin-up pictures. Ifjoint work on projects is required, then the relationship must necessarily be closer and the task ofestablish- ing common expectations more delicate. The pressure is on women to prove that they can do as well as men, not on men to adopt quali- ties socially defined as feminine. The norm is a male, middle-class one. Women are subject to discrimination in architectural practice. In private offices, a study by Fogarty and others found that the aver- age earnings of full-time women principals in 1978 were only 63 per cent of those of men. 1'' The gap had actually widened since 1971. Women principals were less likely than men to work in a large office, but there was still a wide gap in earnings when size of office was taken into consideration. It is also more difficult for a woman to become a partner in a practice, since the ideal new partner is in his or her thirties, with a wide network of contacts with potential cli- ents and a willingness to put in considerable unpaid overtime. This is the time when many women take a break to have children, with consequent loss of professional contacts and reduced capacity to work long hours. Architecture is not an ideal occupation for part- time work. If women want to work part-time they may be confined to helping out on other people's schemes rather than designing and supervising schemes of their own, since the latter requires the designer to be constantly available to answer queries and clear up problems. However, problems are not confined to those trying to combine childrearing with a career. The same study found discrimination was evident even against single women without family responsibili- ties. Senior women architects, as well as men, insisted during the study that a woman architect who is determined to make a career in private practice, and stays with it in spite of family commitments, will find the necessary opportunities open to her. In the sense that some women can and do make their way to the highest levels of the private practice side of the profession, this is true. In the sense, however, that women, as a matter ofstatis- tical probability, have the same chance as men of reaching the top, or even of equal earnings at lower levels, it clearly is not ... Myths about the degree of equal opportunity available in pri- vate practice are not surprising in view of the lack over the years of systematic effort to establish what the facts of the situ- ation are. 16 There is also some evidence of discrimination against women in appointments to top levels in local government.17 The study criticized RIBA for its lack of concern to monitor the situ- ation. Valuable though this study is, it shows only part ofthe pic- ture of the discrimination women face. The women who were receiving lower incomes or being denied promotion were prac- tising as architects, so they had accepted at least some of the ground rules of architectural practice. It leaves out those women who dropped out of architectural education or left after a short period in the profession because of dissatisfaction with the way the profession operates. It also ignores those who never reached a school of architecture. Most importantly it takes no account of discrimination against women as building users, which is indirect and unconscious- a product of ignorance. Women, architects and feminism 23 Making Space Future pouibilities Architects may ritually acknowledge the importance ofthe needs of building users, especially those who are most disadvantaged, but in the absence of understanding, contact and empathy with a wider range of people, this remains pious intention. Feminist conscious- ness among architects would produce a change in their approach to design, as women designers came to identify with women using the built environment. The economic recession has had a disastrous effect on archi- tects' work-load. Of the responses to this, only a few can be seen as progressive. The conventional and short-sighted adaptation is as fol- lows. First cut down on recruitment to the office, whether it is in the public or private sector. For private architects, seek work abroad, especially in the oil-rich countries where the rulers are keen to build Western-style status symbols, and the population then have to suffer buildings and city plans devised by foreigners with minimal understanding of either the local climate or customs. Take advan- tage of the relaxation in the professional code that allows you to act as a developer or company director, and broaden your skills to grab work from those in related professions. However, there are also more progressive adaptations to the loss of traditional areas of work. These include a small growth in architectural co-operatives, often working for community groups or organizations which would not normally employ an architect.18 This type of practice is probably more responsive to the needs of many women workers than the conventionally organized office. In addition there are now enough women practitioners who share the kinds of critical perspectives on conventional practice to allow the formation of women-only co-operatives. Some co-operatives offer construction skills as well as design skills, to break down the bar- riers between mental and manual work and to get away from the opponent relation between architect and contractor. One important trend that has helped feminist design groups to survive is the growth of women's groups as clients. With the support of the women's movement and positive action taken by local auth- orities tfor example. the GLC under the auspices of the Women's Committee) women at last have some opportunities to commission or adapt buildings to meet their particular needs. Women's groups, which have worked together using the methods developed in the women's movement- listening to each other, giving each woman 24 space to express her feelings, and developing theories from women's own experiences - will want to work with architects who under- stand and can use the same approach. The existence of a strong women's movement is thus indispens- able to the development of feminist design. Certain material con- ditions would help to carry such ideas back into more conventional architects' office. A commitment to equal opportunities, including facilities like creches as well as monitoring the organization's record in employing and promoting women, is the least that is required. There is a long way to go, but there are grounds for hope that the environment in future will be designed with women in mind. Women, architects and feminism 25 3. Homes fit for heroines: housing in the twenties As women planners and architects think about the ways in which feminist ideas can influence the design of buildings and the urban environment, it is useful for us to look back at the early twentieth century when feminists were organizing a campaign about the way they wanted their houses to be designed. We also want to have a say in how our environment is shaped: whether from general interest, or because we are involved in shap- ing policies on one of the newly formed local government women's committees, or doing feminist research, or as feminist architects working with women to change their local environment. In 1918 the British government setup an all-women committee to report on the 'housewife's' needs in the design of new state-built houses. Traditional gender roles for women were taken for granted. In one way women were being asked for their stamp of approval. It could be said that the emphasis on women's place in the house, keep- ing the home fires burning, was an important selling point for the government's housing policy. However at the time women were alive to feminist ideas, and the committee approached their brief in a consciously feminist way. They asked working-class women what they wanted and in interpreting their views showed they had an insight into everyday struggles. The committee also drew upon ideas of women in the labour movement. 1 The story of the work of the Women's Housing Sub-Committee2 thus throws light on the opinions of many working-class women about their housing conditions in the early twentieth century, and highlights some aspects of how women's 'place' was and is shaped by the design of housing. With victory in sight, Lloyd George's coalition government set 26 Homes fit for heroines: housing in the twenties up a Ministry of Reconstruction in January 1918; this drew in a number of radical individuals such as Beatrice Webb and Seebohm Rowntree. The Ministry's brief was not only to deal with the immediate emergency of large numbers of returning soldiers, but more important, to take a longer view of possible social changes. A massive building programme of new houses was one of those changes - the first time the government was to subsidize, finance and build housing on such a scale. Some historians have shown the way this house building pro- gramme in 1918 was used to undermine potential workers' revolta at a time when, in the words of Beatrice Webb, 'Thrones are every- where crashing and the men of property are everywhere secretly trembling.'4 At the same time, the challenge to the government by feminists was changing. The franchise was extended to women over 30. Femi- nist politics had been developing over the past two decades, but in 1918 there was a lull in the women's suffrage campaign. Many of the notable protagonists were still engaged in the war effort. Others had taken a positive pacifist line and were helping to improve work- ing-class women's lives. Some of these women were part of the Women's Co-operative Guild who had published Maternity: Letters from Working Women5 in 1915. Others were active in the Women's Labour League, which published a pamphlet in January 1918 called The Working Women's House. Their feminist ideas showed a departure from the older ideas of nineteenth-century feminism whose main objective had been pol- itical, economic and social equality with men, with very little class analysis. The 'new' feminists had a more 'woman-centred' view, campaigning around women's issues especially areas concerning the health and welfare of women and children. There were contradic- tions in this approach since it accepted a broadly patriarchal view of women as wives and mothers, but it had the support of working- class women. The women who became members of the Housing Sub-Com- mittee came from differing political positions. Gertrude Emmott, who chaired the committee, was a Liberal and president of the par- liamentary and legislation committee of the National Council of Women. The working methods of the committee however bore the stamp of women in the labour movement and there were a number of labour women on the committee, including Eleanor Barton who 27 Making Space had been president ofthe Women's Co-operative Guild and Averil D. Sanderson Furniss from the Women's Labour League. The com- mittee was made up of 11 women- including Dorothy C. Peel, who had written several books on household management, and Sybella Branford who had some architectural training. They came together as women to put women's collective view. Before the committee was set up, Christopher Addison, the Minister for Reconstruction, had received representations6 from many women's groups and political parties demanding that women be consulted about the 'new houses'. One such group was the Society of Women Property Managers which had established an area of housing management which was considered to be women's work exclusively. In their campaign the Women's Labour League argued: Women ought to be the housing experts and consider what they want, and leave compromises on one side. Do not carry your flag too low. Is there any reason why all children should not have the best houses that the nation can provide?7 Housing provision for the working class had been debated long before 1918." Should the style of the house be a tenement or a cot- tage house? How many rooms should the house contain and how big should they be? What activities - such as personal washing, cook- ing, food preparation and laundry - should happen in the same room? Should cooking be done in the main family living room? Should every house have a front parlour? Did the house need hot and cold running water? ISee chapter 5 for examples of answers to the questions. I In July 1917, another advisory committee was set up9 by the Local Government Board which controlled the design of municipal council housing prior to 1918. Known as the Tudor Waiters Com- mittee, it consisted exclusively of men who were 'experts' in the field of housing- some politicians and some technical experts. Their brief was to report on methods of building the new houses cheaply and quickly. Raymond Unwin was one of the experts on the committee. He was an influential figure in the debate of 1918. Since 1910 he had been on several committees considering the type, size and layout of municipal houses. Although removed from the day-to-day lives of working-class people, he had been a radical socialist in his youth and was sympathetic to the demands of the working class for better 28 Homes fit for heroines: housing in the twenties housing. At the time most working-class families lived, ate, cooked and spent their leisure time in one main room. Many people wanted a room where they could escape from all the hurly-burly ofdaily liv- ing- a front parlour. Unwin attacked such ideas and described them as: 'a desire to imitate the middle-class house' and saw it as imprac- tical to divide the house up into a series ofsmall rooms. By 1918, labour women had written a great deal about the con- ditions of working-class women's lives, notably Maud Pember Reeves who documented the lives of working-class women in Lam- beth in Round about a Pound a Week. She describes a typical house in Lambeth, a divided town house with two families living in it, sharing a scullery and copper on the ground floor. The house had no hot running water, and the family who lived upstairs had no cold running water. The woman had to carry water up the stairs and the slops down again. Each family had exclusive use of two rooms, one a bedroom where the whole family slept, the other a living room where the only source of heating and cooking was an open grate, kept clean and blacked with Zebra lead by the women. All personal washing was done in one or other of the two rooms; the lavatory was downstairs in the back yard. It was an awareness of these housing conditions which shaped the demands of the Women's Housing Sub-Committee. Conse- quently they demanded a separate workroom for cooking and food preparation; a separate bathroom; a front parlour; labour-saving devices (such as hot and cold running water, a kitchen range which did not involve stooping, with easy clean finishes); and play spaces for both older and younger children. The Women's Housing Sub-Committee first visited the housing estates, which had been built, using direct during the war to house munition workers: Hall Estate in London and Gretna Green. "They set out guide lines for themselves women for their opinions about their houses: In visiting houses it is important to find of the housewife as to the advantages or disadvantages of each feature in her house and also to hear the opinion ofas many dif- ferent women as possible on the same points, in order that the Committee's conclusions may not be based on isolated state- ments from one or two women, but may take into account the government subsidies, schemes such as Well about how to approach out the candid opinion 29 Making Space average and representative view held by the bulk of the tenants. 10 They also noted that in order to get women to talk freely and to give genuine views, it was best to speak to them without the presence of the manager or landlord. All these points are obvious, but are still overlooked by some people in housing management today. As well as visiting housing estates which had already been built. the Committee expanded their brief to include reporting on the plans in the Local Government Board's Design Manual for Municipal Councils which had been published in 1917. They also commented on the prize-winning cottage plans for a competition which had been organized jointly by the Local Government Board and the Royal Institute of British Architects. GROUND fLOOR. BEDROOM I :f iBEOROOM :2 ·.. .. : ••·1o'o· c~~~...._.- fiRST fLOOR. I. 1/ous•· d••si}:n.fi·'"" till' [,ond Uo<'<'/'/11111'11/s Board's [)(•sil-(n Manual. /.'J/ i'. Thl':V produn•d their findings in May 191H. Their comments on thl• cottage plans in the Design Manual received patronizing and scathing criticism from thl• Local Govemment Board: :10 Homes fit for heroines: housing in the twenties The Committee's want of experience in reading plans has no doubt been a serious disadvantage to them. The comments as to the indication of means of lighting in a ground plan or a section such as that given with plan No.7 could not have been made by anyone who realised that such drawings would not contain the information referred to ... It is intended for the assistance and guidance of practical persons such as are found on local auth- orities to whom it is addressed and not for education of novices. 11 These comments are patently unfounded, for the women showed a deep understanding of the issues involved. The interim report proved to be so potentially explosive that the male officials at the Ministry of Reconstruction decided to publish only half of it. The prospect of similar attacks in the future may have been one of the reasons that the women decided to expand and deepen the scope of their work. They decided to consult with working-class women. and to research facts and figures about technical aspects of house design, such as different methods of providing hot running water. A discussion paper set out guide line questions for meetings:12 these ranged from whether the bathroom should be upstairs or downstairs to whether it was preferred to use the living room as a kitchen or to cook and prepare food in the scullery. Women were encouraged to organize, meet and discuss the kind of houses they wanted. Replies came from many women's groups, mothers' and infants' clinics, mothers' schools (set up as result of organized cam- paigns by the women's labour movement for improved health and welfare for women and children), women's suffrage societies, women's co-operative guilds and others. Many working-class women expressed ideas that reinforced dominant patriarchal ideas about the role of women in the nuclear family, even though the war had provided an impulse towards a change in traditional gender relations. Women had taken over men's jobs; public nurseries and kitchens had been set up. In fact the replies from working-class women highlighted differences between themselves and some of the middle-class feminists on the committee about whether childcare and other facilities should be communally or individually provided. If we look at the final report of the Women's Housing Com- mittee and compare their findings to the Tudor Waiters Committee 31 Making Space Report, we can see how the women's committee's approach put over 'women's' views'. The final report of the Women's Sub-Committee was concerned to keep costs low for the housewife, whose job was to spin out the limited household budget. By choosing to prepare tasty but often scarcely nourishing food which took the least time to cook, she saved on cooking fuel. So the most economical means of heating water and cooking had been relentlessly investigated. They were also concerned to keep rents low whilst maximizing the size and number of rooms. The committee insisted that a parlour should be provided where the woman could relax and escape from work unfinished in the rest of the house. They argued that the state should bear the extra cost of providing women with 'good working conditions'. They asserted the need for cooking to be removed from the family living room to a separate workroom at the back- a kit- chen or scullery. They said: In the plans we have studied, and in the houses we have visited, we note that it is generally assumed that the living room shall be in the kitchen. We do not consider this arrangement desir- able and in this view we are supported by a large number of working women. The living room is needed for nursery, meal and sitting room- it should not be ·the workshop of the home. All hard and dirty work should be done in the scullery, both to ensure the comfort of the family and to save the housewife by grouping together all the tools of her industry in one con- veniently planned place.1:1 In the Tudor Waiters Committee's Report their view ofeconomy was to save costs through better design. They suggested that econ- omies could be made on floorboards by having a long, narrow, living room plan, since the boards would not have to span so far. They sug- gested that by reducing the depth of the house, shorter rafters could be used, since the rafters ran from front to back. Also, by building a compact floor plan, they argued, the area that the outside walls would wrap round the building would be smaller, and would need fewer bricks. The women were also concerned about limiting the amount of women's energy expended in housework, which was a source of much ill-health for women. They urged that it was important to find 32 --T'!- FRONT ELEVATION FJQST FLOOR. PLAN GR.OUND fLOOR. ~LAN 2. Urban house design, proposed by the Local Government Board's Design Manual, 1919. 33 MakinR Space a suitable method of heating water: The extra time, trouble and expense involved when water must be heated in kettles and carried to the bath. wash top or sink, is a serious addition to the housewife's burden. A great part of the everyday work of the house. as well as the laundry work, is dou- bled by the lack ofa proper supply ofhot water. The extra strain on the woman's strength. coupled with the waste of time, leaves her without either the opportunity or energy to attend to other household tasks or to secure any form of recreation for herself. We can see from their final report published in February 1919 that although some of the feminists on the committee were interested in communal housekeeping arrangements they stated unequivocally what working-class women wanted. In this they were bringing their particular early-twentieth-century feminism to bear on the infor- mation they received, perceiving women's struggle and the class struggle as one which took account of women in the weakest pos- ition. At the same time, the Women's Housing Sub-Committee did not limit their investigations to the design and planning of nuclear family houses, they also looked at co-operative housekeeping arrangements. There had been several interesting pilot schemes for co-operative arrangements, in particular Homesgarth and Mea- doway Green in Letchworth Garden City, built in 1909-13 and 1915-24 respectively. Both these schemes challenged traditional ideas ofdomestic work. Homesgarth, for middle-class, childless couples, was laid out around a quadrangle with individual flats designed without kit- chens. It had a communal dining room and laundry, all domestic work was done by servants. Meadoway Green was different; it was for working-class tenants and, since they had no servants, each flat had a small kitchen. The tenants ate in a communal dining room and employed one full-time cook and a part-time charwoman. The kitchen was run by the women residents themselves on a rota. Com- mittee members who visited Homesgarth and Meadoway Green were enthusiastic about the schemes. The women were interested in communal housekeeping arrangements, but they said. 'Successful experiments can only be made after consultation with working women and full co-operation with them.' The sceptical replies they had received to the discussion 34 ~ ~ l._._..______J ... .. I DINING HALl STORE CLOAKS 4 ENTRANCE OFFICE SERVICE ROOM a SITTING ROOM BEDROOM PANTRY d BATH e we 105010 feet SCALE 3. Plan of'HomesRarth'. a co-operative housinR scheme pioneered by Ebenezer Howard and designed by A. Clapham Landes.J909- 13. 35 Making Space paper had told them of working-class women's feelings. 14 Their com- ments were based on their own experiences ofcommunal living, per- haps sharing a scullery like Maud Pember Reeve's working-class tenants, or memories of queueing for soup from a charity kitchen. The Women's Housing Sub-Committee showed a sympathetic understanding ofthe remarks ofworking-class women, whilst at the same time as feminists they could see the longer term benefits to be gained from pushing for housing layouts which would reflect some changes in traditional gender relations in the home. In their Final Report the Committee concluded: English women do not under present conditions regard commu- nal arrangements with favour. It is not, however, a reason for neglecting to consider schemes by which unnecessary drudgery would be saved, and there can be little doubt that the solution of many of the difficult domestic problems will eventually be found along the lines of co-operation rather than in isolated effort. Their feminism came from the developed ideas of women in the labour movement. They saw the double bind that if women stated their views as ~ust housewives', then they were reinforcing tra- ditional gender roles of women as housekeepers and mothers and this excluded them from an equal role inthe labour force outside the home. Indeed, the Pre-War Practices Act subsequently gave men returning from the first world war the right to reclaim their former jobs from women. Feminists in 1918 were faced with the likelihood that gains they had made during the war would be gradually eroded. Through the work of the Women's Housing Sub-Committee, working-class women had stated their needs and made many vital criticisms about a traditional woman's role in working-class hous- ing conditions. Their requirements for change, however, showed a desire to fit the house better to the traditional roles of housewife and mother rather than in questioning the potentially oppressive nature of this role. A similar dilemma remains today. Feminists need to find new ways of organizing and designing houses to meet women's needs without reinforcing oppressive roles for us within the home and family. 36 4. Women and public space Linda MacDowell has described how British towns and cities in the twentieth century locate women's and men's work in different places: Production based on waged labour in the marketplace is under- taken collectively in specialised locations, predominantly by men but also by women, whereas the household reproduction of this labour power, based on the unpaid labour of individual women, is undertaken in isolation in countless decentralised locations. 1 In this chapter I want to show how this idealized pattern of women in the suburbs and men in the city has affected the actual locations and 'appropriate' environments of homes, workplaces and other facilities. And I want to show some of the ways in which the makers of the twentieth-century city have served only to highlight the con- tradictions in the inequalities between women and men and between classes, in their attempts to adapt the physical environ- ment to 'match' changing social patterns. There are several strands to be unravelled, many contradictory influences to be considered. It is possible, for instance, to look at house designs of the late nineteenth century and show a direct par- allel in their social and spatial standards ofprivacy and segregation within the home with political and social change in society at large.2 The combination of a growing middle class and new bourgeois attitudes of social behaviour, together with trade union campaigns for a 'family wage' that enabled a man to earn enough to support a: wife and children, conspired to keep the new 'model' woman firmly within the home. Architect-authors like Robert Kerr (see pages 64-7) offered house plans, house styles and appropriate environ- 37 Making Space ments that were both a description of what these developing middle- class patterns were and what they should be. On the other hand, the twentieth century, particularly since the second world war, has left us with a legacy of buildings and towns that emphasize the tremendous gap between architectural and plan- ning intentions and social and political realities. We often feel a real disjunction between physical form and social reality (or at least what social reality might bel. It is much less easy to 'read ofl' women's position in society from the built form oftowns today than, say, to interpret a Victorian house plan. This is not, however, because the makers of the built environment have stopped building their stereotypical ideas about the 'proper' place of women into the physical fabric. It is because, in many cases, these stereotypical ideas have come into conflict with, or sit uneasily against, shifts in the social position of women and the changing ways in which women see themselves. For instance, the stereotyped image of women as home- makers and mothers which was so strong in the 1950s has to be jux- taposed with the tremendous shift of married women into paid employment during this period. As Friend and Metcalf point out, it was the 2.2 million rise in the number of working women that was almost entirely responsible for the 2.4 million rise in the working population between 1951 and 1971.:1 In house planning this problem was 'coped with' and obscured by an emphasis on 'labour-saving' machinery and layouts, an ideol- ogy of house design which had satisfactorily blurred the massive shift onto middle-class women of household tasks formerly under- taken by servants. !See chapter 6. l The housewives' role could there- fore be maintained in all its shining splendour against the pressure of paid employment by the myth that it was being squeezed into less time and was easier to 'manage'. To some extent this myth was maintained until the early sixties when Betty Friedan published a book calling the isolation of the housewife and the constraining quality of housework 'the problem with no name'.·' Acknowledgement of women's unequal position at home and in paid work was notable only by its absence in post-1945 town plan- ning. Towns were to be separated into their various activities, each with its appropriate location and setting. This was called zoning, which closely approximated stereotypical ideas about man's use of the environment: The wage worker sells his labour power as a commodity for a definite period of time, in exchange for a money wage. The rest of his time is his own and there is a rigid separation of his life into work and leisure. His wages are spent on commodities con- sumed away from the workplace. Thus production and con- sumption are two separate activities, emotionally and physically." The 'ideal', then, was a leisured setting that contained the home, and a work environment that was physically elsewhere. This split was to be made possible by 100 per cent ownership of cars. Into this pattern the very different use of space by women, who also under- take household labour and often childcare, had to fit as best it could. And the difference in women's access to cars was ignored (as, for that matter, were class inequalities that have prevented 100 per cent car ownership becoming a reality). In the rest of this chapter I will look at two aspects of the physi- cal form of towns, together with some of the social changes for women since 1945 and show the interrelationships, which add up to the 'place' of women in society today. I will consider zoning and its effects on women's mobility and I will look at stereotypical ideas about 'proper' home environments and their failings. Many of the issues here could be applied to some working-class men, particularly to immigrants and migrants who perform a simi- lar economic role to working-class women. They too are restricted in their use ofthe built environment- by low incomes and by what are considered 'proper' places for them to be. This chapter focuses on women to highlight the differences between the ways women exper- ience our physical surroundings from men - and how this difference is ultimately reinforced by all men attempting to maintain their position in society. Women and mobility Milton Keynes is a new town in Buckinghamshire, based on plan- ners' predictions of 100 per cent car ownership. It has a convenient. fast-flowing grid network of roads leading to social and commercial facilities that are both placed centrally and spread evenly through- out the town. Housing estates with (mostly) village-like environ- ments sit between these grid roads and are connected to each other Women and public space 39 Making Space by a system of winding, wide footpaths for pedestrians and cyclists. What Milton Keynes offers is an 'ideal' planned town, based on the home-work-leisure split - and thus, like many new towns, it exag- gerates difficulties of access for the less mobile both by the separ- ation of activities and by the sheer physical distance made between them. As in other parts of the country, women are disproportion- ately less mobile then men. Although 60 per cent of households in Milton Keynes possess one or more cars, about three-quarters of housewives do not have access to a car during weekdays, for two reasons. Most people travel to their place of paid employment by motor car- partly because the public transport system is quite inef- ficient. So, in car-owning households, the family car(s) will usually be used by the husband and/or teenage children. What is more, only 29 per cent of housewives in households owning one car, and 69 per cent in households currently owning two or more cars, know how to drive.6 Plainly, the mobility of women is restricted unless they live in an area with a very good public transport network, or have equal use of a private car. So women tend to lead a more 'local' existence, not just because of domestic roles and responsibilities but also because of an inequality between the genders in access to resources. Much planning takes this inequality for granted. The 'neighbour- hood' unit. on which towns like Milton Keynes are based, offers par- ticular facilities locally - a few shops, parks, primary school and health care facilities which, as McDowell says, could be 'benevo- lently interpreted as reducing travel times and costs for women and children. less benevolently as minimizing choice'.7 Such planning policies produce a self-fulfilling prophecy: women are locally based not only through their allotted role but also because the arrange- ment of space precludes alternatives: the physical patterning of space and activities supports. perpetuates and 'naturalizes' the diffi- culty of getting beyond the local neighbourhood. The emphasis on individual mobility through private car ownership since the second world war is reflected in the way our man-made surroundings lack consideration for the less mobile - people in wheelchairs or using sticks. women carrying heavy loads of shopping ot· pushing prams or pushchairs over kerbs, old people negotiating a high step onto a bus - and for small children. This works disproportionately against women. We are actually less mobile because of less access to transport and resources. We are also 40 less mobile than men because we take the major role in caring for young children and old people who cannot go so fast or so far. Women are also often made to appear less mobile- or less than women if they are mobile. Thus free-moving girls are designated surrogate boys (tomboys) and older girls find themselves asexual in their peer group unless they dress themselves as static and, prefera- bly, fragile objects in clothes that inhabit free movement, focusing on characteristics ofthe female body <high heels that make legs look longer and hips swing, for instance) to the benefit of the onlooker rather than the mobility of the wearer. Women live in an environment designed to enhance (and there- fore reinforce) the 'norm' of individual mobility- from plans for new road networks to move cars further faster and more efficiently, to housing estates located in suburban areas distanced from places of paid employment. That this is a male, white, middle-class 'norm' Oook at almost any cross-section of car drivers during rush hourJ is ignored by the makers of our physical surroundings. At the same time, this 'norm' of mobility is perceived by men as a male preroga- tive. Many stereotypical ideas contain penalties for women who are mobile. This works in trivial ways, like jokes about female car- drivers, to more intimidating male responses to women who do not appear static or localized: women hitchhiking, or out by themselves somehow deserve to be attacked and raped. This restriction on mobility has to be taught to girls- it is not a natural biological fact. Girl children are socialized off the street through an implanted fear of men, by restrictions on street games and activities and by an emphasis on activities that concern grace rather than speed. Girls soon learn to take up as little space as poss- ible to be allowed within the category 'female'. Boys soon learn that they can prove their 'boyness' by taking up lots of room, particularly outside on the street. These stereotypical ideas about the appropriate 'mobility' of girls and women are not unchanging. The Victorian middle classes made a clear mental and physical division between women/private and men/public which almost went so far as to define women's sex- uality by their location in physical space. As all women (and not just working-class or immigrant women) have become more visible in the public sphere with the expansion of educational opportunities and forms of paid employment, so these ideas have had to shift and adapt. But just as women are still much more restricted than men in Women and public space 41 4. Our city and town planners lack consideration for the least mobile. 43 Making Space the places they can go alone or with children and to 'appropriate' areas of work, so the making of the physical environment is still being affected by notions about 'proper' settings for women which come directly from the nineteenth century. An ideal home environment? Since the early nineteenth century, social reformers, planners and architects have emphasized the importance of the home environ- ment and home life as an antidote - almost an exchange for - the ugly excesses of capitalist development. Early town planning, for instance, concentrated on removing housing from the pollution and noise generated by work environments rather than on improving the latter. Whilst this emphasis on a particular type of home environment offers many material gains over nineteenth-century housing conditions, it nonetheless makes assumptions about the role of women which have not been entirely beneficial. Most contemporary housing layouts are built on a set of assumptions about appropriate imagery and the physical arrange- ment of space. Currently these are that houses should be grouped around a series of protected outside sp!lces enclosing 'nature' which are linked informally and which together make a separate territory visually divided from the surrounding environment. Several hous- ing manuals have been produced in recent years which codify these ideas into physical patterns and imagery. The four illustrations that follow come from one such guide for architects, An Introduction to Housing Layout, produced by the Greater London Council Depart- ment of Architecture and Civic Design in 1978.8 These layouts seem 'appropriate' to the makers of the built environment because they are based on overlapping ideas that rein- force and justify each other. Such layouts offer the appearance of a protected home environment, suggest a leisured home life based on village-like rural settings, and are a real attempt to respond to the visual monotony and coldness of much housing built in earlier periods. What results have these notions had on the actual design of contemporary public housing schemes and how, in turn, has the 'place' of women been affected? These housing estates are an extension of nineteenth-century ideas about the proper segregation of home and work and of women and men - but combined with a developing awareness by social 44 reformers through the twentieth century of women's isolation within individual homes (described, for example, in Spring Rice's survey of the 1930s.9 The answer was a simple spatial metaphor. A community of women was formed merely by extending the home environment out to encompass a number of homes together. This intermediate space between the house interior and the outside world has, theorically at least, a double function. It is the space that brings women and families 'together' to make friends, share tasks, and so on; it is also a protected outside space for women and children to enjoy at leisure away from the dangers and difficulties of the out- side world beyond. Unfortunately, the isolation many women suffer, from taking sole charge for domestic labour and childcare, is not The design of sitting areas and the positioning of benches can encourage or inhibit conversation. The designer should be aware of these possibilities. 5. A design guide's mechanistic view ofopen space and social interaction. from An Introduction to Housing Layout,J978. Women and public space 45 Making Space necessarily relieved by the mere proximity of other women in the same position- and is anyway inadequate compensation for the lack ofalternatives to solitary work. Similarly, the mechanistic arrange- ment of the physical space, with for instance a bulge made in the pavement for two mothers with prams to stop and talk (see Illus- tration 6, page 48), or the seating arrangement proposed in illus- tration 5 to 'encourage or inhibit conversation' make spatial and architectural metaphors of social interaction which ignore the actual realities for women. No woman engages unthinkingly in idle conversation with an unknown man just because he sits on a facing bench rather than alongside. Whilst these housing layouts do offer some benefits by being separated from the outside world (a pleasant landscape and no traffic, for instance) they do not protect women from male behaviour outside the home- a point I will come back to. Outside spaces on housing estates are designed around ideas of a rural. village-like setting. This again is a nineteenth-century notion, criticized by Davidoff, L'Esperance and Newby: What has occurred has been the blurring of the aesthetic, par- ticularly the physical environment, and the social, because it was assumed that the village or home could be aesthetically pleasing, it was assumed that they contained an equally valued social existence. Consequently the model stimulated a particu- lar perspective on the problems of poverty and exploitation. Where the poverty of the farm labourer (or servant) was ack- nowledged - and it occasionally was- its importance was over- ruled by the alleged metaphysical delights of working within such a culturally approved environment. The farm labourer, or servant, or the wife or child, was therefore not regarded as being exploited, not because their subordination was not at least sometimes acknowledged but that this subordination did not matter when set beside the domestic and rural idyll. w Some housing estates seem also to use nature to enhance the 'picture' of domestic and village bliss, sometimes, for instance, expending much energy on the external village-like setting at the expense of space standards within the houses and flats themselves. But the partial truth that a 'natural' setting is a better environment than other parts of our urban surroundings has obscured the very real differences in the use and usability of this 'estate' space for working-class women and men. 46 Space works differently here from the way it does in the owner- occupied rural idylls ofsuburb and village. Tenants do not have the resources to maintain this intermediate space, which neither belongs to them nor is properly 'public' property. Many estates have deteriorated, partly because the population densities involved mean they suffer much more intense use than any suburb or village and partly because working-class people have often been expected to somehow generate resources spontaneously and collectively to maintain their 'natural' setting when they can neither afford time nor money or see a tangible gain from their efforts. Alison Ravetz in her book about Quarry Hill estate in Leeds shows the extent to which the local authority expected the local community to 'manage' their estate whilst giving them no real control in decision-making or resources to maintain open spaces. Tenants not only had to suffer the resulting deterioration in their environment but were blamed for it as well.u Because of its appalling condition, Quarry Hill was recently demolished. In its reduced form the 'rural' environment can become just a shorthand label for 'ideal home environment' rather than providing actual usable space for children's play or relaxation. The physical patterning of this 'natural' setting contains many assumptions about women's role outside the home. It leads, for instance, to housing layouts based on 'rural' meandering paths which imply that the journeys of women, children and old people are without purpose. (See Illustration 6). These paths are meant liter- ally to map the ways women with children and old people move. At the same time there is a confusion between slowness ofjourney and its purposefulness. The implication is that journeys that are not fast or in straight lines are not really going anywhere. The resulting lay- outs only serve to underline the physical distance between homes and shops or workplaces, in turn making journeys for women with children or old people even longer. Many different housing forms seem to work in a similar way to exaggerate the distances of facili- ties from women at home, whether in the lifts, stairs and lobbies of high-rise flats or the cui-de-sacs and winding roads ofsuburban lay- outs. Physical space can add to the isolation of childcare and dom- estic labour. The spatial arrangement ofhigh-rise flats or new towns did not create the condition we now call high-rise or new-town blues. By worsening the difficulties in getting out with small children or transporting heavy shopping up steps around endless corners and Women and public space 47 Hurrying Meandering Reshng Play.ng The purpoae - · :!_] ,--------~- [-~ 48 L-~ - - --- Bnsk walk from A to B Out for a stroll The shopper, old people I ( hddren runn1ng, sk1pp.ng, Jumpmg, ,.,,,;,n ~;)l l_____ _~ r~ -tt~l I_u - • - ~-_0--~~ ~ I.- ! I I LL_ --- ------ Foolp3lh ,1d1acent to front doors - s ! o p p 1n g t o r a c h a t W1den1ng 1n path for two mothers w1lh prams to stop and talk 6. Meandering path patterns for women and children imply lack ofpurpose: from An Introduction to Housing Layout 1978. ramps, these estates must sometimes seem the last straw - making childcare a pressure instead of a pleasure. These ideas which see the occupants of the protected home environment as leisured - or at least without any sense of purpose or urgency- are also contained in another aspect of the preferred physical setting: stringing out an informally connected set of spaces with vistas blocked and then re- opened. The occupants are perceived almost as tourists (or children) who meander from space to space because objects and architectural elements en route catch their interest. Although this informal patterning is partly a response to the monotonyofmanyhousingschemesinearlierperiods12 itfocuseson a particular response - 'visual amenity' which in its preferred organization of space ignores women's experience of space outside the home - and contains some ambiguities for the designers them- selves. On one hand, visual interest is seen to 'lead' people on from place to place as if they might be sightseeing. These blocked views make people curious about what lies beyond. On the other, such restricted views somehow simultaneously define areas of private territory from which people should keep out. For women it tends to be much more simple. Spaces where mystery figures lurk, or could easily hide, feel dangerous. 13 This ambiguity around who has access to the public/private space on public sector housing estates has dogged designers since the early days of council house building, especially since they tend to ignore its gender basis; it has resulted in many estates that are no-man's, or rather no-woman's lands. The contemporary housing layouts I have been describing build the theoretically opposed and separate 'woman's place' and 'man's world' into one overlapping area. And it is the women who suffer - and the working classes generally for whom this environment has been made and re-made through history. This so-called protected environment, which is meant to be an extension out from the home, is in too many cases an extension into the estate of the 'ownership' of public space by men and boys. No amount of mechanistic plans for communities or villages or social interaction can prevent men from dominating the space outside the home- and keeping women in from fear. This is so for two reasons. Many men still perceive women's sex- uality as partially defined by their location, and therefore attempt to enforce and perpetuate those definitions. Whilst male violence Women and public space 49 7. No woman is invited by a blind alley; from An Introduction to Housing Layout. 8. Inviting corners simultaneously mark territory symbolically to keep people out; from An Introduction to Housing Layout. 50 lt says to us "come in, this might lead somewhere, there may be an exit". slight angle Upon entenng the mews proper there is still a change in direct•on lead•nQ ...? 11 •s the sense of mystery about what hes eround the corner which causes a v•s•tor to quest•on h•s nght to be there- symbolic terntory. and behaviour 'on the street' is not condoned, it is often seen simul- t'lneously as extreme or delinquent behaviour in individual boys and men, and as essentially continuous and therefore natural and allowable with normal male 'growing up'. These attempts to describe female sexuality spatially do not stop at public space but extend right into the workplace. Cynthia Cockburn, in her book on the newspaper printing industry, showed how the men she talked to thought of women as 'pure' or 'sullied' depending on their location. The women who were mentally con- tained within the home environment, the man's wife and daughters, were to be kept in the first category. But the women at the work- place and outside the home were described in the second, their per- ceived sexuality constantly discussed and routinely joked about among the men. As Cockburn says: The pleasure of this [latter] process, though, !and it is of course only partly pleasurable, being partly also a fear of women) comes precisely from the contrast between the pure and the sul- lied. This becomes an unresolvable contradiction for men if women share the same workplace in unsegregated occupations, on equal terms, in the same room. To hold in tension both of the two meanings ascribed to women depends on the separation of the spheres of home and work. 14 In the space beyond the home, attempts to maintain these two incompatible meanings cause considerable ambivalence among men towards women, often with potentially contradictory meanings being held simultaneously. Thus women learn from an early age that men, in seeing them as 'other' define women as frightening/ unknown and mysterious/attractive at one and the same time. Casual comments often made at women alone in the street under- line this ambiguity. These are, so men say, both complimentary and trivial. Y et the remarks are an everyday reminder of the bounds of appropriate behaviour - at the same time making them impossible to achieve, being a combination at one and the same time of the pure and the sullied. Thus women must appear sexually attractive to the gaze of men outside the home without attracting men sexually and therefore taking the blame for the ultimate enforcing mechanism by which women are still kept in the home- sexual attack by force. The implicit threat of rape is conveyed in terms of certain pre- scriptions which are placed on the behaviour ofgirls and women Women and public space 51 Making Space and through 'commonsense' understandings which naturalise gender-appropriate forms ofbehaviour. Both the implicit threat of rape, couched in terms of prevalent social stereotypes, and the conventionally accepted ways to avoid such an experience, being in some places rather than others, doing some things and not others are conveyed, are continually reinforced along with a whole range of values concerning female (and malel sexua- lity.15 Women know that at base these prevalent ideas about appropri- ate behaviour and locations are not adequate protection against attack. Despite media and male 'surprise' when 'inappropriate' women in 'inappropriate' places are raped and assaulted, most women feel that they are not safe anywhere. Women must therefore resort to remedial devices, either by not going out, or by going out only with men or by staying in and around places that feel safe. We need to know much more about how the design of space makes some places feel safer than others, and/or actually be safer, and the extent to which our man-made surroundings might ameliorate the lack of safety outside the home for women, just as, currently, they exagger- ate it. Contemporary housing layouts are a response to many prob- lems - to the unsuccessful forms and styles of previous housing schemes, to the inadequacy of financing and to changing social con- ditions and aspirations. But whilst the benefits and truths contained in stereotypical ideas about 'proper' home environments should not be ignored or forgotten, much of the imagery of new housing estates merely attempts to paper over the cracks caused by the differences in use ofoutside space by women and men (and inequalities between classes). The results, I suggest, of the actual chosen pattern- con- tinued separation, meandering paths and blocked views- have been in many ways unsatisfactory for women. Thus these estates serve to highlight in physical space the contradiction between woman's place and 'man's world'. Making out It is true that women are not so restricted to the home nowadays as they were in Victorian Britain, at least not by explicit social rules preventing women from leaving the house or gaining access to pub- lic places, work places and social facilities. In a society that values 52 'freedom' of mobility, women are still much more localized than men who continue, to some extent, to maintain women's 'out-of-place- ness' outside the home. To sum up: what are the mechanisms by which towns and cities reinforce a gender division of labour and a gender division of experi- ence in the use of space outside the home? Firstly, the physical arrangements of activities and space (which categories of activity go together, which are kept apart, the patterns by which they are con- nected) combine with individual freedom of movement, allotted roles and tasks, and access to resources, to either limit or expand the usability of the built environment to women and to men. Many town planning policies expand the usability of our surroundings for the white, middle-class male at the expense of others, particularly women. Secondly, the built environment makes 'appropriate' set- tings for different activities which contain 'messages' about 'proper' gender roles in those places. Finally, there is the way in which ster- eotypical ideas about female and male behaviour are connected to particular locations which can proscribe women's movement outside the home and their 'appropriate' behaviour from street to work- place. These three mechanisms are not all-encompassing or totally effective in maintaining women's 'place' outside the home. They, and the ideas behind them, are always being challenged and the contradictions coped with or reassessed. Similarly, in criticizing 'appropriate' ideas about the home environment, I am not suggest- ing for instance that homes are 'oppressive' to women because they are surrounded with trees. However, our homes and our lives could be arranged in many forms different to the way they are now. What many people consider 'appropriate' environments and relationships between activities are based on priorities overwhelmingly deter- mined by men, which often ignore the different experiences of many women, or place them in a 'picture' that is more romantic than actual. Feminists are now looking both to ways of making the existing environment better (more safe, less difficult to get about) and at new ways of defining categories of home and work, caring and paid employment which will have long-term effects on the physical arrangement of facilities and the spaces in between. For instance, the Greater London Council's Women's Com- mittee, Woman and Planning Working Group, have made recom- Women and public space 53 Making Space mendations for planning policies that discriminate in favour of women and for more involvement of women in the planning process. They suggest that women's groups monitor the effectiveness ofpoli- cies for women. They have recommended policies giving priorities to safe, convenient and cheap public transport, to safe streets and the design of public space accessible to all, including the disabled, older people and parents with children. They want improved accessibility for women to non-traditional jobs and forms of employment oppor- tunities that take into account people's roles outside of work Finally, they have suggested planning policies that acknowledge the importance of caring employment by creating paid work in this area, by providing financial support for it, by ensuring that public facilities provide childcare, and by the provision of local centres which meet the needs of women. The more we can understand about how stereotypical ideas are made solid in the built environment, the more we can criticize them by showing up the ambiguities and difficulties for women living in these man-made surroundings, and begin to suggest alternatives. 54 5. House design and women's roles The plan of a house tells us lots of things about how women are expected to organize their lives. For instance: How big is the kit- chen? Is there room for more than one person to work in it? How many living spaces are there? What activities are catered for in each? In fact the design of houses in Britain reflects the oppression of women in society; by using plans we can graphically illustrate this, showing the relative size and position of rooms. We have limited this selection to urban houses in Britain in order to make some simple comparisons. (Despite the chronological order these house plans are not presented as a comprehensive historical sur- vey.) The houses were designed and built between the early nine- teenth and mid-twentieth centuries. The plans are chosen from these periods because they are still common today. Enough is known about contemporary social conditions to show the way plans reinforced ideas about women's place within the house. The most striking theme of the plans is the privatization of family life. Accommodation for each household became self-con- tained as a family unit. While very little privacy is provided for indi- viduals within the family, families as a whole were increasingly expected to be private from each other. The dominant household form- almost the only one that has been designed for- is that ofthe nuclear family. Yet there are subtle shifts in relationships within households which vary from decade to decade and from class to class. The status and visibility of domestic work changed during the twentieth century. The mechanization ofdomestic tasks, whereby the middle classes replaced servants and the working classes con- siderably reduced heavy labour, made domestic work more respect- 55 Making Space able. The kitchen is compared to a science laboratory and kitchen equipment has become something to show off. The homogeneity of family life also alters so that at some periods families are expected to live in one space, and at other times more differentiated spaces are provided. In working-class house- holds the living room becomes separated from the kitchen whilst in middle-class households in the nineteenth century there is a separ- ation not only of functions but also of classes. The servants' rooms are separated from those of their employers. The status of different activities such as sleeping and eating is clearly shown in the plans by the size of the space allocated to these activities, their relation- ship to each other, and their relationship to the world outside. Finally. there are notable omissions from the plans, for instance the lack of separate play areas for children. How to read plans Plans are necessary tools for understanding and talking about buildings. People whose work involves building have been taught how to read drawings. Others are often presented with drawings and made to feel incompetent if they cannot understand them. The following is a briefexplanation ofwhat plans describe. Plans are like maps; they are a bird's-eye view of a building. They do not show what a building or a town looks like in real life. Their purpose is to describe the relationship between buildings, or parts of a building. in the same way as a map shows the relationship between places. Plans show a building at a particular plane. They show a slice through the building, usually about waist height above floor level. For instance. the plan of a room in a typical nineteenth-century ter- race house will look like Illustration 9 lpage 57l. Each element - door, window, staircase, wall etc. - is drawn in a particular way. Each line represents the edge of something. For example, a wall is drawn with two strong parallel lines; ifthere is a window in the wall there will be faint lines for the wall below the window and possibly the window sill. strong lines for the frame ofthe window at the sides and strong lines for the glass which the slice cuts through. All the strong lines represent elements the cut passes through; the faint lines represent the planes below it (see Illustration 10, page 57l. Where the cut goes through a door, the wall and door frame will 56 cloor 10. Plan and sketch ofa window. be in strong lines, one or two lines show the door open, and a faint curved line shows the line of the door swing. This shows which way the door opens and that it does not hit anything when it closes or opens (see Illustration 11, page 581. Stairs are shown like Illus- tration 12 (page 58) on plans. Each line represents the end of each tread (or stepl of the stair- case. Beside the stairs is probably a handrail which runs from newel post to newel post. These are usually shown too. They are important because they support the staircase. An arrow shows which way the stairs are going. Usually the arrow points upwards, and often it will have 'up' written beside it to make sure. One problem with stairs is that, sooner or later, because they are going up they will meet the Jollndow 9. Typical plan ofa room. 57 ::IT:1 0 DC DD I -'- 11. Plan and ketch ofa door. :-::-= 12. Plan ofstairs. ...____ line of the cut of the plan. When this happens a diagonal line is drawn across the stairs, and from that point on what you see on the plan is what is below the stairs - a cupboard, or the flight of stairs below . You can also show a vertical slice through a building. This is called a section, and it tells us how high the ceilings are, the shape and construction of the roof, and foundations. As with a plan, the 58 DooR CL05ED parts of a building you are looking onto (for example), a staircase or a door on the wall opposite) are shown by faint lines, and the parts that are cut through are shown by strong lines. 13. Vertical slice through a house- called a section. Weavers• cottages Modern houses are divided into rooms with specific functions and are ge-nerally intended to accommodate only one family; these are both fairly recent innovations. Houses built for working people in the era prior to industrial capitalism were simple structures, which accommodated both activities relating to survival such as eating, sleeping, cooking and so on, as well as tasks associated with family and trading. People who were not related to onE: another lived together as one household. As industry developed in the eighteenth century, a special part of the house became a workshop. The average household included not only the mother, father, children and other relatives but also House design and women's roles stctio~ c.wt~ ihroc.~~ll WAIL 59 Making Space household servants and apprentices. In weavers' cottages the weav- ing was done on the top floor and the household lived below. Some- times the loft was also lived in as the looms could only be worked during daylight. The plans shown in Illustration 14 below are typical of weavers' cottages built in Nottingham between 1784 and 1830. Each house has a workshop and living spaces consisting of a bedroom, 'house- 60 • LOFT " FIR'>T FLOOR.. ~ Mrrow win<Ainq StQIY"c;<l~e Connc,c:.(~ eQch floor. the, 1-lo~A~e.~ were ~vllt"'ilcacK ill ;~k:' ~ well AS in te.t"r"Qc:e.s, so Clloon t.lll'ld windo~ Art l"f'tricted -fo -th~ fro11t worl<~hop friiA'/ MQve.~out>lea ~A~ livin~jsleep1i1~ ~IAc.e- CtROVND fl..OOR. 14. A lypicalweat•er"s house. built in Nollingham at/he beginning ofthe industrial ret•olution. 1784-1830. place' and pantry. Anyone moving up through the house would pass through each room in turn - an arrangement hardly ever made today. Nineteenth- and twentieth-century ideas about privacy have led to houses with a central 'circulation system' off which most, if not all, rooms can be reached separately. Model Dwellings Model dwellings were built by philanthropic housing societies throughout the nineteenth century. They were intended as housing for the urban working class. Many nineteenth-century social reformers, such as Lord Shaftesbury, believed that better housing would improve the morals and character of the working classes: The people who were formerly savage and ferocious, because they supposed themselves despised and abandoned, are now perfectly quiet and docile . . . Lady Shaftesbury has walked alone, with no attendant but a little child, through streets in London where, years ago, a well-dressed m~n could not have passed safely without an escort of the police. Lord Shaftesbury, who was also a campaigner agamst child labour, voiced an almost religious view of women's 'place' in the home. He said at the end of a debate on protective legislation for women: The moral effects of the ... system are very bad, but in the female they are infinitely worse not alone upon themselves but upon their families, upon society and I may add upon the country itself. It is bad enough that you corrupt the man, but if you corrupt the woman you poison the waters of life at the very fountain. Model dwellings were built mainly in city centres and particu- larly in inner London, by, for instance, the Peabody Trust and the East End Dwelling Company. There was a debate within the phi- lanthropic housing movement about which form of housing was best: whether minimal shelter should be provided at a low rent or better accommodation at a high rent. The plan in Illustration 15 (page 62) was a design prepared for the 1851 Exhibition. It was intended to set a good example, which other reformers were expected to follow. House design and women's roles 61 62 Separate ~edroo,.,s for- chiidrer~ of oppos·,~e ~elCes ihe anl!i~ec.t ~aic:l !tf thtSe flqts :- 11 ~e~lcot~i~ ' ! r e f o r the pre~ervatlon of eacl'l disti~tc-t "(Qrnily Qhol diSColli'\eCtlOt) of t~ei..-"Ptar~t~~er~~~ to effecti~el)' prever~t"tne Colhmvnicatio" ot co11ta9io1.1~ dise.~ses" FU.T TWO 15. 'Model Dwellinfi!s'. desifi!ned by Henry Roberts. These flats were built for the 1851 Great Exhibition as examples offi!ood housinf'! for the workin!! class. Robert Kerr, who also designed model dwellings, said, of build- ings for the 'labouring classes': The most rigid economy of arrangement, consistent with accom- modation sufficiently spacious to be convenient and healthy, and the utmost attention to cheapness of construction, consist- ent with durability and comfort, are essential elements of a really good and suitable plan. The improvement to the morals and characters of the inhabi- tants would take place through a particular sort of planning based on segregation and privacy. The working classes were to be organ- ized into 'proper' family units: Balconies were for the preservation of domestic privacy and independence of each distinct family and the disconnection of their apartments so as to effectively prevent the communication of contagious diseases. The reformers were especially worried by what they saw as the sexual morality or depravity of working-class people living in over- crowded slum conditions. In this plan three bedrooms were provided to prevent different sexes and ages from sleeping together in the same room. The boys' and girls' rooms are 'controlled' from the liv- ing room, whilst the parents' room is given privacy by being located offthe scullery. Conveniences such as the scullery and toilet in each dwelling were a definite material improvement for many working-class people. At the same time these were intended to prevent the spread of contagious diseases through communal facilities and to stress family privacy by keeping households separate from each other in their day-to-day activities. However this proved to be expensive, so that some model dwellings had shared washing and laundry facili- ties. Most model dwellings also had a set of rules and regulations to govern 'respectable' behaviour, and attempted to prevent both non- family lodgers, and paid work such as laundering being done in the home. This last rule prevented women from pursuing what had been among their traditional occupations. In their design and manage- ment, model dwellings proved to be the forerunners of modern coun- cil housing. For example it is only since 1980 that council tenants have been allowed, as a right, to have lodgers in their own homes. House design and women's roles 63 Making Space Victorian gentleman's urban house. c. 1864 The plan on page 65, Illustration 16, is for one of a row of London town houses built for the Marquis of Westminster. It is taken from The Gentleman's House by Robert Kerr published in 1864, an influential work in its time. In this plan Kerr tried to translate the principles of order and status set out in his book: modest elegance, extreme propriety in personal behaviour, a sharp division between master and servant and between women and men. Kerr probably derived these ideals from an ancient Greek manual on household management for gentlemen, Xenophon's Oeconomicus. Xenophon was primarily a military historian. A ruthless concern for efficiency, more suited to the management of an army than a household, per- vades both works. In classical Greece, households were part of the economy, mak- ing cloth and food from wool and crops. Xenophon advised rich women to be active managers. leading the servants by example. But the Victorian house was a retreat from the workplace, and upper- class women were encouraged to be indolent, thereby falling prey to the fears and diseases condemned by Xenophon more than 2,000 years before. In his book Kerr attempts to set up a complicated hierarchy of age, sex. class and household activities by their placing within the plan. As a rule of thumb status decreases from front to back and by increasing distances away from the two main floors <ground and firstl. Segregation is maintained between servants and family by separate staircases. Kerr was very concerned with privacy, which he considered the primary concern of the house: It is a first principle with the better classes of English people that the Family Rooms should be essentially private, and as much as possible the Family Thoroughfares. It becomes the foremost ofall maxims. therefore. that however small the estab- lishment. that the Servants' Department shall be separated from the Main House, so that what passes on either side of the boundary shall be both invisible and inaudible on the other. 1 When Kerr refers to the importance of the family rooms, how- ever, he is describing the private withdrawing rooms of husband and wife on the first floor <with the man at the front, the woman at the backl, not the rooms that children would normally use. At this 64 c. / 2: . C> l ~\ ~L 65 cr: cr: 17. 'A Uentleman's Tou·n House'. 1864. This redrau·n plan shows the se~re~ation of the scrmnls from the famih·. &A5£MENT C,ROVNI> FlltST HC.ONI> THII'-.P fOV~TM l •D Clreo.~ ocwpie~ by fo.l'll·,ry o.rell$ occ.vpie.d by sevvat~ts A. l<itc;hen, & &ICI'lers Pat~-IN c. Ho~se~tS Roo101, I> 5er~"tl lh!IJ E MenservMts 11lo1>1, f Stcc61(.s C, Me.~>~-ts ~MYODikS st 5etval'\'h stllirc:As~ J' Mtti.ltr ~roo...,5 rlI tt I II lt time and with this class, children are still placed about parallel with servants: The principle of Privacy which was laid down at an early stage ofour investigation, whereby in every Gentleman's House a dis- tinct separation should be made between the Family and the Servants has a similar application Ifor children1- that is to say, the main part of the house must be relieved from the more immediate occupation of children.2 For the middle classes at least, the boundary ofprivacy was not yet drawn around the outside of the house, incorporating family as mother, father and children together. Pride of place in the house remains with the entertaining rooms. Although squeezed onto one main floor (squeezed compared to grander country house plansl Kerr uses a sequence of small spaces, of halls and lobbies, to give a sense of dignity and procession. One of Kerr's '.extra' masculine rooms, the library, is provided at the front for status and to visually separate any other workings of the house from the world outside. Finally Kerr emphasized the importance of planning the work- ing areas on a different basis to the rest of the house !which was to focus on comfort). In contrast the kitchens and other servant spaces were to be based on efficiency and function. (See Illustration 17.) Even today there are echoes of these Victorian ideas in modern semi-detached houses with ground floors focused on entertainment and status. Of course, from the 1930s all the working activities of the house from pantry to laundry had been fitted into one room- the kitchen- often small and tucked away at the back. At the same time the servants were being replaced by the wife. The suburban house still confirms status and middle-class respectability and, as Burnett says: Physically, the minimal five-roomed semi made civilised life, in middle-class terms, possible for a small family. It allowed for a proper separation of eating and living, for a proper separation between the sexes for sleeping, for cleanliness, order and rec- reation.3 Late nineteenth and early twentieth-century urban terrace The most basic form of 'through' house was the 'two up, two down'. Most of these have been demolished as there was no room for House design and women's roles 67 68 Cj~OVNtl F/... oCl r. FIRST ) FLOOR. froh1 PedroOW\ wltl1 do~bl<: !>eel proh~ly for b,U.y +tod.dler ~swell A> lllotherQ..,.,( fr.t11e..-. olitsiol~ w.c. no ~e~throoM vertlilaled lo.nler 18. A typical terraced house. built extensil'ely by speculative firms fhml the end ofthe nineteenth cent111:v. zr,: !>t40'0o,., -t ~tofthe cl1i ldren s~pr heYe.1 :Z.,5or1" ~<lbr:d. \ improvements such as bathrooms, and the stairs in particular were often steep, narrow and dangerous. The example shown in Illustration 18 is more substantial and still makes up a large part of our present housing in inner urban areas, often modernized with grants. Although they appear to be in the inner city now, when they were built they were on the edge of the city, in the suburbs. This meant that it was only better ofT workers who could afford them, those who were not dependent upon a wife's earnings to supplement the family income. As soon as houses had both back and front, the kitchen was put at the back, just as in the elaborate Victorian town house the kit- chen occupied an interior position. In the early decades of this cen- tury (apart from wartime) few married women went out to paid work. But the task of caring for husband, children and home was demanding and exhausting, involving a good deal of heavy work such as the carrying ofcoal or water. A scullery was provided for washing clothes, pots and pans, and facilities like a ventilated larder and running water made domestic work much easier. Cooking and eating meals took place in the back room, along with most other everyday activities. The Womens' Housing Sub-Committee report of 1918 which surveyed the opinions of working-class women (see chapter 3) showed that they would have preferred a separate workplace as well as this back room. How- ever, these women also wanted to retain the parlour or front room. Although this could be kept for special occasions, it could also be used as a quiet room. Plans like this make a clear distinction between back and front: friends come to the back door via an alley. acquaintances are received at the front and are met in the parlour where the best pos- sessions are kept. Early twentieth-century garden city cottage These houses were designed by Raymond Unwin and his brother-in- law, Barry Parker, following the publication of Ebenezer Howard's Garden Cities ofTomorrow in 1898. In his book Howard described a new type of environment, urban settlements with a village-like character. There were to be fewer houses to the acre so that houses had gardens, not just yards. The garden cities were planned to incor- porate factories as well as houses, but the homes would be kept sep- arate from the workplace. They perfectly express the ideology of House design and women's roles 69 70 (1ROVNP rLOOI!. l11tne. Z'*' ~tvry ja.rolt~ cotta.jt Show" her-e the ~Vi11q ~-c>o~o~~IJ vsd AS siffi"~ room , d1h111~ 11>oM , c:~Jo0 5c:...eti»>es l;.(tcJieh 'The. Rl'"cJ.i11t.tt 1 linWill 5GOII~t:(jt,~~-#>e. si.,~(<,r.v'"jroot~< ~s'" de.s®odtl"tof-l'k.. l!lc~itN...[ .,_re..t n<lll ' a"4 lltr<. t:mrha.si<l.S ~ ide<ol Offlll~t~ify.vnity. Cook•"'9 Still toolc r(M.l hue. t.ii?IVill i'D/IIGIIIfTci.~O 'tht. kCAI'th' A>-tht. ~VJ1~"'lJI.i~, ?~t"<~t#-o·<!lll!.+l"'C. wi>ht to P<l>~hh 11/l"dirty• do~t~e11ic.Woi'IC. fo~l SW({!r.:J . firtH FLOOIC.. 19. 'Garden City' colla!(e, desi!(ned by Barry Parker and Raymond Unwin in 1909. was a new model for urban settlements with a villa!(e-like character. women as keepers of the domestic sphere in the 'natural' setting. unsullied by the noise, grime and ugliness of the urban environ- ment. This plan was very influential in housing reformers' thinking and the Tudor Waiters Committee of 1918 based many of its recom- mendations upon it. It set a pattern for municipal suburban houses for the next 30 years. These architects thought houses should be designed to let in sun and air; they hated the deep. narrow houses with back extensions such as those shown in Illustration 18, where the sun might hardly ever penetrate the living room. However, their planning was some- times 'rational' to the point of ignoring the sentiments of the workers who occupied their 'cottages'. As chapter 3 shows, many of these model plans removed the parlour, replacing it with a front-to- back living room which emphasizes the 'togetherness' of the family rather than the separate needs of each of its members. These houses were designed at a time when the concept of the 'family wage' had gained strength. The man participates in the labour market in order to support himself and his family. The woman is seen as the depen- dent 'full-time' housewife. These house plans are among the earliest to assume a nuclear family. Even the relationship of the houses to each other focuses on the quality of light and air that will be received in the interior of the dwelling (using layouts based on the distances between dwellings to prevent overshadowing and so onl. The plan shown here was used by the Rowntree company in a gar- den suburb for their workers, at New Earswick, York. Here the external appearance and setting of the house is carefully contrived to recall the pre-industrial village with its supposedly harmonious social life. Later versions usually maintained the concern with lighting and ventilation conditions within the dwelling, but state economies led to increasing densities, a cutting back on the natural setting and the omission of communal facilities (which had been an essential component of the garden city movement); thus many suburban estates were very poorly serviced by shops and other facilities and were visually monotonous. Thirties semi-detached suburban house Variants ofthe plan shown in Illustration 20, page 73 were built in virtually every town in the country, in the sudden expansion of House design and women's roles 71 Makinl[ Space home ownership to the middle class and a few of the better paid members of the working class. The typical thirties plan represents the ultimate paring down of the status-conscious large Victorian town house. Minor touches of individuality served to distract atten- tion from the underlying conformity and concern for correctness and respectability. Raphael Samuel says that: The ideal home of the period, whether a bungalow or semi- detached. was a haven of peace and quiet. a modest retreat for the 'little man' lthe pipe-smoking. slipper-loving archetype ... l, a nest-like security lor prisonl for his wife. It was built on low density 'ribbon' developments . . . and symboli- cally protected from the gaze of strangers by the well-trimmed privet hedge. The middle class who flocked to take up mort- gages on the new estates lived a life that was more purely dom- estic than perhaps at any other time.4 Conservatives were delighted at the rise in home ownership. since it was believed that: The man who has something to protect and improve- a stake of some sort in the country - naturally turns his thoughts in the direction of sane. ordered. and perforce economical government. The thrifty man is seldom or never an extreme agitator. To him revolution is anathema:; Houses built for sale retained a kitchen so that cooking and eat- ing could be separated. with the possibility of employing domestic help in the kitchen. Whilst middle-class women discussed 'the ser- vant problem'. however. working-class women were voting with their feet against domestic service. Even so. domestic service was to remain the largest area of employment for women in the inter-war period. Through the use of contraceptives or self-restraint. family size decreased in the middle classes in the thirties. This reduced the amount of childcare and housework middle-class women had to do. The builders of semi-detached houses used modern bathrooms and kitchens as the selling point for their houses. Advertisements for the period show photographs of housewives who appear delighted with their new chromium-plated bathrooms. Ofcourse, for many this was probably the first time they had had a fitted bath. or many of the other improvements in heating. plumbing and cooking 72 The l<itc.heh j~ ~ Cr'ah\ped t-oo~ at the, bo.ck ofthe. ho1.4~e, I'\Ot" plttl'lne ~ as ~ sp~c-e in wlf,0 rm7- 111i ~nt e.~o)' spend1VJ~ t11'rte. These.two Y'OOh-15 were, 11s~ a~ ~inil'l'3 6.. ittti"'~ roo~s, or as livin!J ruom ancl P"riour-. 1nete. W(.l.S Still ~ ?ej'l$e. of ihe.. ft-ont roo~ G\S 1!. be?t 11 C,F:OVNP FL0oR fiR'?T FLOOR. LiKe.. the front i'TJOI'VI dowMtil r-1 tne.. 'mASter vec:4Y"OOM' W~$ 411~o ft-trnisned to i~rre~s, with olre,~in~ tqbie- 8-.. 3 r~l'le.ltelll ~irror In th~ VIII)' w'w'tc:4oW 20. A semi-detached suburban house built in the 1930s. Aimed at the rising class ofozcner occupiers. this design retained elements of'the status-con scious Victorian tou·n house. 73 Making Space facilities. In this period consumer durables such as electric irons and vacuum cleaners became available for a mass market. Builders often gave these away too, as an inducement to buy. Middle-class women became associated with the consumption of goods within the house. Later developments towards more open-plan houses, whilst per- haps using available space more effectively and breaking down tra- ditional divisions between formality and informality in behaviour, nonetheless often also meant that women had to keep much more of the ground floor tidy, clean and ready for 'show' and that many more consumer durables might become part of the display of 'best' pos- sessions for status and dignity. Post-war council house Council house building in the immediate post-war years was given high priority. The houses were much more spacious than any coun- cil housing built before or since, and council houses were intended to appeal to all sections of society, living side by side in 'mixed commu- nities'. At the same time, these houses strongly reflect the post-war idealization of family life, seeing the house as a cheerful and comfor- table place where wives would find homemaking a pleasure and not a burden. The Dudley Committee, consisting of eight women and 12 men, recommended in their report published in 1944 that: 'Local auth- orities should have greater regard to the views of housewives and should make use of their powers to eo-opt suitable women to their Housing Committee.'6 The secretary to the Dudley Committee, Judith Ledeboer, who was an architect, said that 'The standard set was what the committee thought was the minimum at which a woman could bring up a family while doing the housework herself.'7 So women's views were seen as important but only in their capacity as housewives. The plan shown in Illustration 21, page 75, continues the single front-to-back living room from the 1920s, but by now cooking has been removed to the kitchen, so this room is purely for family relax- ation and leisure. The plan also offers a separate dining room, in order to remove eating from the housewife's major workplace, the kitchen. By the 1950s, space standards and amenities were being severely cut back in council housing. There was a drive to produce 74 FIRST FLOOtt, 21. This council house. designed in 1949. reflects the post-war idealization offamily life. l 75 Making Space as many houses as possible, and more attention was paid to quantity than to quality. Much of the flexibility offered by the sheer space of the forties plan was lost. Attitudes to the 'proper' location of the eat- ing of meals varied tas they still do todayl. As space was cut from t.hese plans, the dining room became part of the circulation; it was usually incorporated into a hall at the bottom of the stairs or as an alcove over the kitchen. The formal dining room of the forties plan was the first to go. The parlour was also on its way out for good. The Dudley Report thought, 'the expression "parlour" carries an impli- cation which is old-fashioned and obsolete.' By the time the Parker- Morris Report was written in the 1960s (see below), it was not men- tioned at all. Finally. the kitchen remained small, in some local authority areas, despite continuing demands through this period for families to eat here. The Parker-Morris Report again admitted to this demand and commented on earlier plans which saw eating in the kitchen as a working-class habit, and deliberately tried to prevent it by not allowing enough space: Even in a kitchen which is not planned for the family to eat in, and which is primarily planned as a working centre, there should be somewhere two or three people can sit down and eat; because we are convinced that, whether or not there is room, that is what they will do. We have heard it said on more than one occasion that the kitchen should be planned so that it is impossible to take meals in it, with a view to raising the social and living standards of the occupiers. We believe that this is an unsuitable motive on which to choose a plan; and even if it were not it would be necessary now. after ten or fifteen years of try- ing it out. to recognise that it is misconceived.8 The sixties and the seventies The amount of space provided in housing declined steadily through- out the 1950s. In 1961. a further report on housing standards was published. written by a committee chaired by Sir Parker-Morris and entitled Homes for Today and Tomorrow. This noted trends such as the greater demand by single people for separate homes rather than living with their families or as lodgers, and the need for housing to provide more than a minimal 'roofover the head'- to cater for a col- lection of individuals with aspirations and with differing and some- 76 1he k.itcbt.n I~CIIes~11edM bed ~n ef(iciehi worbpA~for 0~6fBKOVl, it loo!<.\ fl\111 l>otn livi..~ roo~><+ IAini\'\-' <~~'"~ . bed 22. T his 1960s design for a five-person nuclear family is still in current use. f i i V : > T f-LOO~ A"W~Mte-r·~rTTO'lo\. a..~ iMI c-1-..ildl"eeoSi>edn>o"'s t~re ~~riv~tnA,:;~11> ille. {1~ tloo 77 Making Space times conflicting interests. <The report remarked, somewhat optimistically as it turned out, that husbands were sharing domestic work in an increasingly egalitarian fashion!) In order to allow individuals to follow more fully their own lives within the family house structure, the Parker-Morris report recom- mended more space and better heating - including heating in the bedrooms. This would allow all rooms to be used during the day; children could use their bedrooms as 'own rooms' for study, play or entertaining friends. At the same time, Government design guides such as Housing the Family <see chapter 5 above), which architects used for guidelines in designing actual houses, perpetuated a very traditional picture of the nuclear family and women's role within it. The house plan from Housing the Family shown in Illustration 22, page 77, reflects some of these ambiguities in attempting to des- cribe and fulfil the needs of many different individuals within a small, narrow frontage, family house. It provides, for instance, a small 'spare' room at the front of the house to be used as an extra bedroom, sewing room and so on. Of course this room also serves (rather like the library in the Kerr plan) to hide the more 'private' family areas behind. The plan also tries to provide space both for separate dining and for eating in the kitchen <at least half in and half out of the kitchen) without providing either a proper. separate dining room or a kitchen big enough for the whole family to eat in comfortably. It offers a small hall as the residual version of the parlour: 'a neutral space in which to deal with visitors whom one wishes neither to leave on the step nor to invite to meet the family', but which looks straight into the dining area and beyond to the kitchen putting this whole area potentially 'on display'. The kitchen acts as a hub to the plan. looking into both the liv- ing room and dining area. It is therefore neither a separate work- place (to contain noise and smells) nor physically part of the other rooms in the house. It is still planned on the workbench principle advocated by Kerr and designed around one person, almost cer- tainly presumed to be the wife. The living room at the back is still the largest room in the house and has a large picture window overlooking the small back garden. The Parker-Morris Report set compulsory space standards for public sector housing. and was abolished by the government in 1981. It was the last government manual to describe how the inter- 78 iors of houses and flats should be laid out (although many local authorities still use design guides of 'preferred' plans). During the last 20 years there has been an overall decline in the number, con- structional quality and space standards of council houses. This has affected women particularly badly. Women with families have to take primary responsibility for the consequences of damp, inaccess- ible or tightly and badly planned homes. At the same time, the con- vergence in space standards of middle-class and working-class women's homes, and to some extent a convergence of their roles, means that all women who work in the home as wives and mothers experience similar problems and contradictions in the way these houses are designed. Conclusion We have tried to show how the plans of houses have changed, re- flecting and refracting changes in society. Over this period, the house has become synonymous with the nuclear family unit, although 60 per cent of households no longer match this model. The house now takes for granted a separation between paid work outside the home and leisure within it, which would be difficult for an eight- eenth-century weaver to comprehend. Our attitudes to privacy have changed since Kerr's primary classification. It now incorpor- ates the whole family, and is not just the prerogative of the middle classes. Class divisions in housing have decreased, especially since the second world war. Middle-class women have taken on the tasks that were previously done by servants. With the introduction of new technologies, housework has become less physically exhausting, but with new standards of cleanliness and order has expanded to fill the time of all classes of women responsible for it. As class distinctions have diminished, tensions and conflicts have arisen in ideas about the 'proper' use of the house, for example in the placing of meals or domestic services. Women's traditional working activities have removed from the living room to the kitchen, leaving the former solely for recreation and relaxation. Patterns offormality and infor- mality in the treatment of guests and friends have also influenced spatial divisions. Middle-class children are no longer banished to the nursery in the daytime and childcare patterns have changed. All of these factors have had ramifications for the design of 79 House design and women's roles Making Space houses and for women's work and position within the home. Many of the house plans we have used here are explicit models of how houses ought to be, and the way people should live. Even in cases where women's voices have been heard, priorities about what is built into the house and what is left out have been predominantly chosen by men. Thus. a strong demand from working-class women at the turn of the century for a parlour was given a low priority. Demands for space to eat comfortably in the kitchen have been reiterated in design manuals such as Parker-Morris, but again and again, the actual houses have had tiny kitchens. In the final decision-making, women's real needs, desires and aspirations are not taken as seriously as male-dominated ideas about the 'appropriate' house for the family. 80 6. Housing the family In the family, woman's perspective of day-to-day life is set by the experience of caring for children, husband and family and looking after the house, sometimes combined with going to work outside the home. In addition, there is a constricting framework imposed on the woman from outside our experience - the conventionally accepted view of family life. The role of the woman in this family is a house- wife and loving wife/mother. If she works, then she must be able to do her housewife job more efficiently. The man goes out to work, drives the car, needs to be fed, and has a space for do-it-yourself activities which are his contributions to home life. Her world is less significant than the public world of work, money and male exchange of views to which he goes. This patriarchal view is a synthesis of all the parts of family life which reinforce the nuclear family: the loving couple of cornflakes adverts and Sunday colour supplements, with 2.2 contented chil- dren. There is no conflict and no change in relationships - all that happens is that children grow up. This stereotype typifies the 1950s, and we might expect people who design houses now to have a more sophisticated notion offamily life. However, the state manual of housing design, Housing the Family,1 to which all council and many private houses are meant to conform, is based firmly on this view of women's lives. Underlying the text of Housing the Family runs a particularly clear summary of the ideology of the family that is the basis of all current housing design - men's and women's roles, and the relationship of spaces to these roles and assumptions about women's subordinate position. This chapter examines these assumptions in detail in order to understand how all housing design promotes them. Detailed studies of how people use dwellings (the basis for 81 MakinR Space design guides) shows that researchers have asked questions which in some ways have led to improvements in the quality of women's lives. It is now accepted that women with children stand in front of kitchen sinks a lot, so there should be a window to look out of; and that if there is a garden, the window should look on to the garden so that children's play can be watched. However, this research is based on particular questions, and the choice of questions determines the answers - and produces a window by the kitchen sink. The researchers asked: 'How can life with your hands in the sink be a little more pleasant?', not: 'Why do women spend so much time at the kitchen sink?'. Housing the Family contains a whole checklist of such questions: 'Is there a convenient place indoors where small children can play within sight of the kitchen working area?' 'Does the kitchen have some view of the outside world, ·callers, passers-by, etc?' Women's experience of living in houses is incorporated into housing design by a sort of remote control process. The dynamics of everyday life for women are profoundly misunderstood because questions such as these emerge from the stereotype view of nuclear family life so vividly portrayed in Housing the Family. The 1961 Parker-Morris Report, Homes for Today and Tomor- row, set out to describe the way people live and to make recommen- dations for the design ofhousing.2 It proposed a new way ofsetting housing standards by outlining design problems rather than provid- ing 'standard' plans, as earlier housing manuals had, and was intended to free architects from stereotyped planning prevalent in the 1950s. In this way, it was also more liberal in outlook than many of the subsequent design guides such as Housing the Family and Space in the Home, which offered one, particular, conventional interpretation of how the design problem might be solved. Housing the Family is a collection of bulletins reprinted in 1974 and is in current use for both public and private housing. It covers various aspects of housing design, including the arrangement of internal space, site considerations, safety in the home and children playing. Other design bulletins, such as Space in the Home,3 con- centrate on particular rooms and their functions, for example, kit chens and bathrooms. The stated intentions of these bulletins, which are compiled by teams ofexperts including architects, sociolo- gists, quantity surveyors and administrators, are to improve 'both the convenience and efficiency' of the use of spaces and to 'promote 82 higher standards and better value for money'.4 They appear in every architect's and builder's office and are extremely influential in the planning and designing of houses. Most designers use them selectively, picking at information here and there, not questioning the ideology behind the infor- mation. They are used as if they provide 'objective' information rather than value-laden assumptions about women's social role and family life. The text is written from a masculine viewpoint - by men, for men, and about women and children. It reinforces the identification of the designer with the male breadwinner by refer- ring to him as 'you'; the housewife is referred to as 'she'. For example: If you come l}ome in dirty working clothes, can you get direct from the main door to a place where they can be kept and to a place where you can wash?' And, 'How far does the housewife have to carry the rubbish from the kitchen to the bin store, and can she manage without going through living areas?'5 (my emphasis) Design guide stress the separation of work (a means of earning a living) and survival (activities necessary to stay alive) by empha- sizing both their different locations and the gender stereotyping of responsibility for them. The head of the household- man and wage- earner - spends most of his day in paid work to support himself and his family, and for him the home is a place of comfort and rest. The woman, the wife and mother, even ifshe also has paid employment, 1200 When the children play indoors Mother needs to be able to see them from the kitchen, but they should be away from the kitchen equipment and not under her feet. 1430 The baby nec!ds a place whe!re it is quiet to sleep The toddler needs a place for play, where toys and-other playthings can be concentrated, so the housewife does not have to be for ever tidying up. 1900 When Father makes or repairs something, he needs to be out of Mother's way in the kitchen and where he will not disturb sleeping children. 23. 'Mrand Mrs Average' as portrayed in Housing the Family, 1974. Housing the family 83 Making Space is expected to assume the role of houswife, and for her the home is the place where she does work. The conventional assumption that a 'woman's place is in the home' is clearly perpetuated in design guides. In contemporary Western society, acknowledgement ofthe indi- vidual's right to privacy is not extended to women. Whilst thought to be tied to the house more than any other member of the family, the housewife spends her time in spaces that service the family: that is, the kitchen and the 'master bedroom'. The privacy, and in Virgi- nia Woolfs words, 'a room of one's own' that everyone needs to establish any kind of independent identity in the nuclear family, seems to be denied to her. People and activities are packaged in a standardized format where they bear little resemblance to human beings. Mr and Mrs Average and their children have become mere emblems in plan and elevation. @··<9··~··@··@··@ un-~"" KNPI"' lood hble ltylng Oit.pot.inu w....., ancld•Nt e,,,,.. cfwane ,....... c-...nt Pun•nt food C..t•i"' twty Stecking Wahong .._.., ............* orplttet Puulng•.,,.v llniO dllftn CD ® ® ® @) l @ Arr•ne•ment or ectlvhy zone.s 84 .... Woriltowrl- .'-."."."'""' w.-t• Wor.. wrhu Equ...-nt .... C-"t• Worllturl.e. Workwrt~oee I Of lloble WotkturfiCt Equtpmtnt Food ,... I I ho1 EqulcJ..,.nl Equipmenl food [[]] [[]] [l; Q1li HBT ifi ~-~-~ -~-~!~nhl"u-=~J~·~:= 24. Activity sequences and arranf?ement ofactivity zones. from Spaces in the Home, 1972. Drying This design guide definition of the family excludes many people - single parent families, communal households, old people - and refers only to the 'nuclear family' which is not a reality for most people anyway. Within that very limited definition, roles are des- cribed in a very conventional way, for example, there are no signs that men cook, children clean or that women repair houses. Spaces and activities are described so as to seem scientific, and therefore objective. Charts and graphs indicate the 'optimum' work- top height, and 'activity sequences' represent the 'meal preparation process'. Spaces are divided into 'zones' with specific functions: the kitchen includes 'zones' for preparation/wash-up, mixing, cooking, serving, eating: each described separately and as a sequence in great detail, with illustrations even of the fitments by which tea towels can be hung. Possible layouts for bathrooms are drawn as a table of 'combined appliance and activity spaces for one-, two- and three-appliance layouts'. The houses themselves are distinguished by categories of physical space with either a wide or narrow front- age, and by occupants in numerical groups of one- two- or three- person dwellings. Time and activity charts document a typical day in the life of The Younger Family (parents and three children- a boy aged 7 and girls aged 3 and 1) and The Older Family (parents- mother working part-time, boy aged 23, girl 20 and boy 14). The day is divided into activities which occur at half-hourly or hourly intervals and involve some, and occasionally all, the members of the household in activi- ties related to particular spaces. The neat divisions ofjobs into regular intervals of time describe an unrealistic routine: this rationalization of time and tasks does not relate to most women's daily routine, especially those with small children. The assumption that the drudgery of housework can be elimi- nated simply by providing efficient, easy-to-clean surfaces and easy- to-reach storage permeates these design guides. Whilst the inten- tion is laudable, their analysis shows a significant misunderstand- ing about the nature of housework. Research shows that women spend an average of 77 hours of week doing housework.6 Most women would agree that whilst some labour-saving devices can relieve 'heavy' work and save time, housework still takes this long because expected standards of cleanliness have risen. It is in the nature of housework that it expands to fill the time available and Housing the family 85 86 0700 0710 0130 0930 1130 1200 ~d 1230 ~~ 1430 r"W1 " ~ p~ ~~ ~~~ ri rJ f[ (~~ L~) ~ at 25. Time and actil'ity chart- documents the - "typical" da y: ( rom Housing the Family. 1974. r ~A 1 ~ that it is never done; no sooner has the floor been cleaned than it starts getting dirty again. Design guides assume that housework is not an activity shared by all members of the household, but is done by the woman. The recommendations conclude that the house must be 'easy to run to reduce the burden on the housewife' and in order 'to give working wives a better chance of doing both jobs without too much strain.'7 The kitchen is categorized as a space which does not need to change as the family develops. Preparing food is not a sociable activity in which everyone can participate, and the kitchen is designed to be used by one person- the wife and mother. The work- tops resemble laboratory benches; she is assisted only by a range of consumer durables such as the cooker, washing machine, spin drier, tumble drier, and dish-washer. Design guides describe the kitchen as the 'work centre' of the house- once the realm ofthe domestic servants in the more affluent Victorian houses, it is now assumed to be the realm of the house- wife. The guides recommend that the kitchen be a separate room, designed to make cooking and serving food as efficient and con- venient as possible, without the rest of the family and especially visitors being able to see, hear or smell them. Drawings show opti- mum worktop heights, circulation patterns through and around the kitchen, and storage facilities. Although eating in the kitchen is mentioned in some guides, it is not considered to be of central importance as it is by many women. Design guides are only a part of a way of thinking that divides the business of living into hermetic compartments. Housing the Family, for instance, does not deal with the relationship of the home to the immediate locality for the necessary support services: shops, schools, health centres. These are deemed to be the province of other design guides. The relationship between the home and the 'world immediately outside' is reduced to the patterns of circulation and access of the family and visitors, and callers who fall into two main categories, the regular and the intermittent: 'The milkman, the postman, the dustman, the meter reader and the fuel delivery man come into the former group; the deliverer of garden materials or the man coming to repair the roof fall into the latter.' (my emphasis)8 The house requires servicing from a range of specialists. There is no mention of the importance of social relationships and communal activities for Housing the family 87 Making Space women and children. Baking, washing, bathing, which were once communal activities, have been privatized within the child-centred nuclear family. The houses, separate from one another, symbolize the import- ance of individuality, and stress the self-containment of family life. They are illustrated only in plan form, from which it is very difficult to imagine the quality ofeach room and ofthe house as a whole. Many ofthe design guide recommendations are embodied in the plan of a house illustrated in Space in the Home. This house is divided into separate rooms for specific functions and is designed to accommodate one household (see chapter 5 for illustrations and more detailed description). The graduation of rooms from public to private is represented in their placing within the house; the most private rooms for the family are at the back of the house and upstairs. Visitors to the house may be confined to the ground floor; the kitchen (accessible from the back door) and hall are separate from the living and dining rooms. In this it represents the sequestering of the nuclear family, and the domestication of all the activities associated with survival. There are no public or communal facilities; it accommodates an introverted family lifestyle, in which household duties are confined to a small space set deep within the plan, and protected by the pri- vate back garden and boundary walls. This critique has tried to expose some of the assumptions made about women and houses in design guides, not simply to add to the checklist of things designers should take notice of, but to begin to suggest house designs that reflect the richness and value of women's experience. Such designs would neither assume that women are part of nuclear family units with children and husband, nor would they try to contain and confine women who do care for children. 88 7. Working with women In 1978 the Feminist Design Collective was formed. Its purpose, loosely defined, was to understand and develop a feminist approach to architecture through discussion and architectural work. Two of the projects I am going to describe were undertaken by this group. In 1980 the Feminist Design Collective split and Matrix was formed. Groups within Matrix formed to undertake different proj- ects: an exhibition on housing design called 'Home Truths', this book, and architectural work for women's community groups. The ideas outlined in this chapter are based on lots ofdiscussion. This is my interpretation of our shared experience. Women working in Matrix (and in the Feminist Design Collec- tive between 1978 and 1980) have been attempting to develop a way of designing buildings together, which values women's involvement in all the stages of the evolution of a building. The stages include recognizing the need for a building, obtaining finance for it, organiz- ing it, designing, building and finally using it. Working together as a group, and working with other women's groups, have been among our most important experiences. Working and making decisions col- lectively has developed our confidence and ability to pursue and articulate elusive ideas. We have all been trained conventionally by and with men, who have often devalued or ignored our work, describing it as 'emotional' or 'confused'. As practising architects we have often felt alienated and marginalized. In order to revalue our ideas and feelings, we have always tried to do work together, to go to meetings and give talks in pairs and to discuss work in progress with a larger group. We have learnt from working with women who have not been trained as architects. They have questioned conventional assump- tions about design and have been excited by the possibilities of ere- 89 Making Space ating buildings that suit their needs. The re-emergence of the women's movement over the last 15 years has meant that women have seen the need for, and started to make, new kinds of buildings. Places to live in together, refuges where women can be safe from men's violence, women's centres that are both meeting places and advice centres, places for teaching and learning skills previously inaccessible to women. Women have also been involved in creating places for children which are not formal state institutions, but which respond to the differing needs of chil- dren and grown-ups. New buildings need to be evolved which appro- priate for these new ways of organizing and living our lives. At present most women's centres and refuges, for instance, are housed in old and badly repaired buildings. Yet buildings help or hinder the development of new ideas in all sorts of subtle ways. The projects described in this chapter are not ideal women's buildings but they are a beginning. Except for Stockwell Health Centre in South Lon- don they were all conversions of existing buildings. People often ask us, 'If women design buildings, will the build- ings be different or better?' If women collectively organize, design and make buildings that suit their needs rather than having to fit into what exists already Ibuildings created by a patriarchal culture) then the buildings are bound to look and feel different. We have to begin by being clear about our needs and not just wanting buildings to look different. Conventionally, great stress is put on the external appearance of buildings; this especially undervalues the experience and knowledge of women who use them. Buildings are for the most part just background, not important for what they look like but for how people can live and work in them. We are trying to enable women to make buildings that are like good clothes. They should do the job they are there for, be useful, comfortable, likeable, and then every now and again they should be just a little bit special. Designing with women's groups A new health centre was to be built in Stockwell, an area desper- ately lacking health facilities, and Stockwell Health Centre group came together through a meeting of community representatives. The group was concerned with the sort ofhealth care the community needed, placing emphasis on preventive medicine, community use 90 and self-help. Drawings had been made long ago by the local auth- ority architect for the Area Health Authority, and the health centre group very quickly realized that they needed a different kind of building. 'When we were thinking about it, we kept having to look at this horrible plan and feeling irritated with it, so we thought, "Let's have one of our own."' The Feminist Design Collective became involved at this point. For the health centre group it was important that we were a group of women, rather than one individual, so that we would understand the process of working in groups. They did not want 'an expert com- ing in and taking over' but wanted to retain control of the ideas for the building as it developed. 'We were feeling insecure enough already. We wanted help expressing our own ideas. Having people around showing how our ideas could be translated into a building made us more confident.' The group had written a report for the health authority describ- ing the kind ofcentre they wanted. They saw clearly that the type of building would strongly influence the possibility of implementing their ideas. They knew from experience in local community cam- paigns that the design of buildings affects women's lives in all sorts of ways. They had also learnt that loose and informal ways of orga- nizing the health centre could be just as effective as the rigid ones imposed by the health authority; their ways of organizing Would enable the community to have control ofthe building. We all found it extremely difficult to define what a radically dif- ferent kind of health centre would be like. Two principles emerged, reiterated in endless meetings with the health authority: that the centre should fulfil the needs of the community as a resource, and that it should feel open, inviting and easy to use. These principles were to be demonstrated clearly and simply by a building. We worked out a design with the health centre group by imagining how the building could be used, discussing which activi- ties could overlap, how the space would affect the way people relate to each other. These discussions suggested various arrangements and we made several different sketch designs. For instance, in one suggestion there was a cafe at the centre ofeverything, and all other spaces were arranged around it. In another the building was to have a street running through its centre, with all the drop-in facilities along both sides. Both of these ideas had disadvantages, but they were useful because each one expressed spatially an idea we had dis- Working with women 91 Making Space cussed about how the building could be used. The health centre group discussed these sketches with other local groups and at a public meeting. As well as involving people not centrally working on the campaign, this consultation process also meant that women in the health group explained and discussed the various possibilities and in that process clarified and extended their own ideas. The final design was L-shaped, with a cafe/meeting place on the corner, and creche and community health worker's office (who is the centre's co-ordinator> behind. The creche opened onto the garden enclosed by the 'L'. One arm of the 'L' along the existing main street housed the 'drop-in' facilities where people could get information and the services related to health care. These were to include chiro- pody, childcare clinics, osteopathy, as well as rooms for a dentist and optician. The other arm was to contain the more private offices and consulting rooms. The cafe and related spaces were intended for use in the evening as a more general community resource. The alternative design for Stockwell Health Centre (Illustra- tion 26, page 93) was part of the ammunition the health centre group needed in the struggle for a locally controlled health centre. It was never actually built although some suggestions were incorpor- ated into the local authority designed building. Our job was to dis- cover with the group how a health centre, democratically run and open to the community, could be designed, and to help the group convince the Area Health Authority that the community's ideas were realizable. Lambeth Women's Workshop <Illustration 27, page 94) is a car- pentry and joinery teaching workshop in South London. It runs beginners' courses aimed especially at women with children, black, and working-class women. It came into existence through dis- cussions in a Women's Aid group about women's employment. It was organized, designed, and converted by women, and is run by women now. We looked at possible spaces with the Workshop group. The place that finally seemed most appropriate was a unit in a large industrial building. The space chosen had the advantage of being already weatherproof, with good natural lighting and adequate ser- vice lifts for bringing up materials; however, it had an inhospitable atmosphere, reminding one of harsh working conditions. The women on the management committee wanted the work- shop space to assert a friendly working atmosphere. One way to do 92 o"J Q(j:(:() u.,.apo-~0.-3faH"f="'=4S ~ W(loy i~ 26. Plan for the Stockwell Health Centre, south London - a proposed design based on community needs. U ! f t - / w • i~in~ oov r:. ':) 93 27. Interior o(lhl' [,amheth Women's Traininp Workshop. south Lunclon. this was to makl' curving walls. to contrast directly with the straight lines and right angles of the factory . But we found this did not make economic ust• of the space. Finally it was broken into more intimate areas by. for instance. raising the floor of the sitting and kitcht•n spacl' to giVl' low window sills and ceiling height. In making dt•cisions about the way the workshop was designed. wt• talked about ;wsthetics. about the proportions of the space. and tlw relationship bt•tween windows. light and columns. Architects an• traim•d to discuss and think about such ideas in an abstr-act way. which was obviously inappropriate. distancing the world from our t•xpprience and making it lt•ss part of ourselves and our evet·yday lin•s. Wt> rcalizt•d we had to find ways of talking about the qualities of thl' span•; how light or dark. soft m· hard. high or wide the space should lw. Wt> m•edPd to find a languagl' accessible to everyone involvl'd. Wt• havl' continut•d thinking about this. It means starting from fl'l'lings about thl' span•s woml'n know and their everyda.v l'Xpt•rit•ncps in tht•m. and using that inf(lrmation to gradually build up a pil'lun• of tht• m•w span•. 94 TH£ 51Zf OFlHE Wmtl EATliS ffflPARID TO 112 GREENWOQ) RD\~ TVte plt'M-1 Of tl1e I 'WtlYM ' ~Clit15'' you ARE IN A R.OOM THIS JIIG 28. Drawings that compare the building used by the east London Dalston Children's Centre with its new premises. a former warm bath house. Dalston Children's Centre was set up by a group of women in Hackney, North London, and provides facilities for women and chil- dren which are not normally available. Women with pre-school chil- dren can 'drop in' and either be with or leave their children for a few 95 Making Space hours. It runs daytime classes for women, and children of school age can go there before and after school, to specific classes like music, theatre, swimming, or just to play. The centre also runs classes and play schemes at weekends and in the school holidays. The centre had been housed in various temporary premises for three years. Matrix was involved both in making the present temporary prem- ises usable (they moved in September 1982) and in finding perma- nent premises and doing the architectural work necessary. The building that will be their permanent premises is an old bath-house, very different from the house the Children's Centre is in at present. Imagining how a bath-house can be changed into a children's centre is not easy. We tried comparing the new building with their existing building. We drew pictures of how we thought the building could be, and worked with the various groups who use the centre to get their ideas. Matrix also ran a short course for the women who were to be particularly responsible for making design decisions. The course included sessions about the building programme, discussing which decisions have to be made at different times, and about draw- ings. For instance, the women measured the room we were in and drew it to get an idea of how scale drawings relate to real spaces. In each of these jobs we have wanted to spend far more time designing the building than is conventionally allowed for: talking, trying out possibilities and finding ways women can become more confident about expressing their ideas about buildings. The more people are involved in the process the more time is needed for every- one's ideas to be expressed and considered seriously. Drawings and other design tools We learnt a lot about using drawings through working on Lambeth Women's Workshop. At first we did not realize how difficult is was for women on the management committee to get a feel of the build- ing from the plans, of where the windows and doors and walls were, how big or small the space was. Next we tried drawing proposals with work benches and people in them, which seemed to be even more confusing. The management committee felt that we were presenting 'fait accompli' choices, 'TV dinner drawings', for instant consumption or rejection. At that point we all started again. This time we used cut 96 out bits of paper for all the work benches and machinery and walls and windows. Everybody moved the bits of paper around trying out different arrangements and seeing how big things were in relation to each other. This really seemed to work. Women's experiences in different workplaces became relevant and useful and each woman felt involved in the process. We did not necessarily come to conclu- sions about the design, but everyone understood the problem. With Stockwell Health Centre the first thing we did was to write on existing plans with big arrows pointing out all the criti- cisms different women had made. The group involved women with different experiences of health care, as 'patients' and as health workers. The comments varied from descriptions of what it is like being in a waiting room using an electronic call system if you are deaf or blind, to what sort of atmosphere is needed for giving family planning advice to women who are nervous. Next, we did bubble diagrams showing the relationships between different activities. It was in general discussion that the idea evolved for a cafe around which the building could informally focus. This proved to be a key idea for the alternative scheme. On this first relationship diagram the cafe was drawn in a circle, relat- ing to the other activity places in circles with arrows to them. Immediately the cafe became circular in people's minds. While we had made a distinction between diagram and building shape, others had not. When we later drew a square cafe on a plan, several women were disappointed and we were then able to discuss our different mental pictures. This seems quite a good example of accidental mis- communication which provoked useful ideas by chance, rather than carefully thought-out use of drawings. We were trying to find ways the group could get a feel of manipulating the spaces and take an active part in the process. We found we needed to do drawings that looked as throwaway as possible. We used scrap paper, and unruled lines - anything to overcome the feeling that once something was drawn it could not be changed. A different experience of using drawings came from working with Balham Food and Book Co-operative, to redesign and build their new shop, an old four-storey house and shop in Balham High Street, South London. They had already been in existence for a year, and wanted to move to a more public shop, and to be able to open a cafe, provide meeting rooms etc. They wanted to work with another co-operative. Working with women 97 Makinp Space Two women from Matrix were working with the Women's Building Co-op. so we were able to function as a 'design and build' group. The design was evolved with the Balham Food and Book Co- op; drawings and 'a specification of works' (that is the description of work to be done) were done by a combination of designers and builders. Particularly successful were drawings of how the shop would look. These were colour sketches done by women trained in building, not architecture. We wanted to challenge the idea that only designers can imagine what spaces will be like. Builders are used to working three-dimensionally and understand how spaces relate to each other through specific and detailed experience. The drawings did not use complicated or formal drawing techniques and so were very immediate. They made the Balham Food and Book Co- op enthusiastic about the building and it was then much easier to discuss details of the proposal. When working on Dalston Children's Centre, we started mak- ing models which could be taken to pieces and reassembled differ- ently. Lots of different groups use the centre and so we had to find ways of involving as many women as possible in imagining what the building would be like. As well as doing sketches of different parts of !JH 29. A m'"''''· u·ith IIHII'l'ahll' parts. of'!he Children's Centre. the building converted in different ways, we made a rough card- board model in which all the parts of the building that could not be changed were fixed and all the rest could be moved around. We found this model very useful during discussions. The relative size and position of spaces could be judged and women could immedi- ately show what they meant when suggesting how the space could be used. The buildings Dalston Children's Centre has from the first had a comfortable friendly atmosphere because creating that feeling has been a prior- ity for the group. In discussions about the bath-house conversion, the group expressed concern that a newly converted building with large spaces, although more flexible in use, could feel cold and insti- tutional. It has been important to find ways of making sure that does not happen. The same issue has been confronted over all the buildings or pro- posed buildings I have described. They are all in different ways places where people, women especially, can meet and share experiences. This is not their primary function, but the 'client' group in each case emphasized that the place should be welcoming, comfortable and easy to find your way around. Each building involved a quite com- plex picture of activities and functions that were to remain closely interconnected. For instance, spaces where women could sit and talk had some link with the other activities going on in the building. The health centre group wanted a cafe instead of a large wait- ing room, so that people could go to the health centre informally. Also a woman might get reassurance about a child's health, for instance, simply by talking to others in this space. The entrance to the Lambeth Women's Workshop is an informal space, which includes a sitting area, a kitchen, and an office. Each area is distinct but not separated by walls. The group did not want the workshop space to be completely cut off, but it is noisy and has potentially dangerous machinery in it. Two large windows allow you to see who is in the workshop and watch what they are doing. Without getting in the way, women who are new to the workshop can get a feel of the work that goes on there. To say that buildings should feel friendly and be able to accom- modate different sorts of social exchange may sound curious. It is Working with women 99 Making Space obvious that they should. Yet if you think of the public buildings you know, from hospitals to workplaces, you will find there are few you could describe as either friendly or accommodating. They are intimidating to all except those who control them. Making buildings where most people can feel at home involves changing who controls buildings. It also involves thinking about qualities that are hard to define and would be considered soppy on an architectural brief but are nonetheless important. Being an architect We have learnt that it is important to explain on each job what an architect does, because so much of her work is invisible, unlike the builder's work, for instance. Conventionally, an architect's role is to find out what kind of building is wanted, what money is available and how it can best be used, then what spaces are needed in the building, how people are going to use the building and what it should feel like. Listening to what people want can be complex, depending on how many people are involved in making decisions about the build- ing. The accumulated information will come in various forms- and it has got to be made into usable information related to the proposed building. This means architects need to know how to organize infor- mation. They are taught techniques for doing this which are assumed to be universally applicable. 'Designing' is used to describe thinking out the possible ways of organizing and shaping the building according to all the gathered information. This process is more or less creative depending on the job; often the design decisions being made are quite small in them- selves, especially in conversions, and may be limited by all sorts of regulations so that 'designing' may be rather like doing a jig-saw puzzle. Once the design for the building is agreed, it has to be checked with all the authorities who control drainage, fire regulations, structural details, etc. The architect has to produce 'working draw- ings', rather like maps, which tell the builder where doors and win- dows and walls are to be. Also there is a written document !either a 'specification of works' or a 'bill of quantities', depending on the size of the jobl that describes which materials to use, and other details that cannot be drawn. The builder will use this information to work 100 out the cost of the building. When building work finally starts this information tells the builder exactly what to do. However, there are always some details that change, or cannot be decided beforehand. The architect is there to make sure the builder has all the necessary information, to ensure that the work is done as specified and to a 'reasonable' standard, and to mediate between the builder and the client. Arguments between them will be either about money or the standard of work, and until such a dispute gets so bad that it is taken to law, the architect's professional role is to say what is a 'reasonable' standard, and to act as a kind of adjudicator between the two parties. It is an ambiguous role because the architect is paid by the client, not the builder. The whole process of designing and getting a building built is conventionally described as only a technical process. The ideology underlying how information is organized, whom you listen to, what questions you ask, which parts of the process could be open to group involvement- these are not generally discussed by architects or by those who employ them. Nonetheless, a large part of the architect's job is a technical job and this means the architect does have technical skills. These skills are: - - - - - - - obtaining information; organizing information, being able to juggle spaces and their rela- tionship to each other, either within an existing building or by creating a new one; understanding the consequences of practical decisions, the effect on the drainage layout of where the bathroom is positioned, or whether it is possible to knock a wall down without the building collapsing etc.; being able to make assessments about what a building will feel and look like, before it exists; knowing what is feasible - financially (how much will it cost?l, structurally (will it fall down?), functionally (how big does a bath- room have to be?), constructionally (keeping the rain out), envir- onmentally (keeping the heat in); knowing enough about building materials and services like plumbing to know what works and how; knowing and being able to deal with the building, planning and environmental health regulations; Working with women 101 Making Space - providing information (drawings, writing) for the builders; - organizing and running the contract between builder and client. The question for us as feminist architects is, how do we use these skills to further the liberation of women? ArchitaciB. buildan and 'clients" I want to describe our experience ofthe relationships between archi- tect, 'client' and builders. I am not trying to write a radical critique of the building industry, or to suggest a blueprint for architectural practice. The experiences I am describing have come not from a con- scious plan to work in a predetermined way, but from a personal sense of unease about how architects are supposed to work. For me and for others in Matrix this attempt to find a more appropriate way of working had led us to learn a building skill, and to work on site as builders or on design-and-build projects. This has given us an under- standing of the realities of day-to-day building, but also has made us conscious in very practical ways of how divided the building indus- try is. The relationship between architect, client and builder has always been a class relationship. The client has the money, the builder the craft skills. and the architect Ifrom an educated middle- class backgroundl is paid by the client to provide the design and to manage the job. Nowadays the building industry is extremely com- plex, and management at different levels, from 'foreman' to contract manager, has been created in response to the increased size of build- ing projects, but the fundamental relationships are the same. There is a hierarchy of status within the building industry, with building workers 1I have usually called them builders) at the bottom. The architect lstill from a predominantly middle-class back- ground! works either for a private architectural practice or private building firm. or is a salaried employee of the state. It is only on fairly small-scale work that architect and building worker come into direct contact. Nonetheless. when they do. as on the projects I have described. the class and status differences are obvious. The architectural profession llike other professions) has attempted to define an area of work and gain control of it. It has been aided in this by the growing complexity of legislation, regula- tions and bureaucracy around building, which have developed as buildings have become technically more complex. Architects and 102 builders are mutually dependent on each other in the production of buildings, while both are dependent on the client for finance. Exa- mining the relationship between architect, builder and client also involves questioning the way their individual roles are defined. Is it appropriate that we should automatically adopt the profession's idea of the architect as I have described it above? For a while the builder's skills are at least as essential as the architect's, they are not valued in the same way. Architects are paid more than building workers, and they usually have more control over how they do their work. Our attempts to create a more equal relationship between builder, 'client' and architect are by no means the first. Both women and men have discussed and explored these possibilities in the past and are doing so now. The jobs I have described, however, were thought-provoking because they allowed a group of women designers to work with women on women-centred buildings. They all involved working with sympathetic women 'clients', not all with women builders. Projects have been funded by the state and/or a local authority, rather than directly by the 'client' group. This has made it easier to establish an egalitarian relationship between architects and 'client' group than between architects and women builders. It is our shared politics and feminist intentions that make an equal relationship possible, but this can be very easily under- mined when one group assesses the quality and value of the other group's work, and pays them. Relationships between women archi- tects and women builders are much more difficult because to some extent the architect's job always includes supervising the builder's work, and authorizing payment for work completed. The conventional relationship between architect and builder, where the builders are all men, is an uncomfortable one for most women architects. Whereas middle-class men are socialized to use the rational detachment required of their assigned role as adjudi- cator between client and builder, women's socialized role is to sym- pathize with people and to understand and be supportive to the problems of others. This may mean that women tend to give everybody concerned more thought and the job more care. Women tend to consult and ask for participation in decision-making more than men. However, the architect's role is more stressful for women since it is usually diffi- cult to please both client and builder. It is also a contradictory role. Working with women 103 Making Space Women architects are in an authoritative role, which class differ- ences reinforce, yet as women they do not normally have authority over men. Male architects and builders can overcome class differ- ences to some extent by sharing male camaraderie, but women can- not do this. Thus women architects are isolated by both sex and class. Because of this it has been particularly important for us to be able to work with women builders. The building work for Lambeth Women's Workshop, the temporary premises for Dalston Children's Centre and the shop for Balham Food and Book Co-operative were done by women builders. These projects have brought up more ques- tions than they have answered; however, I think it is worth outlin- ing the questions. Because of differences in status, class and decision-making roles, and because the contract normally used between client and builder assumes no trust between them, there is usually some degree oftension between architect and builder. Ifwomen architects work with women builders within the conventional framework this tension is in direct conflict with the expectations of working in a sis- terly way, that is, supportively and co-operatively. How do we find a framework for working together which is based on mutual trust in order to resolve these contradictions? What do we expect from skill sharing? Four of us in Matrix have learnt building skills in order to work on site. It is far easier to us to do that than it is for builders to learn design skills, because builders are trained in a more ad hoc way than architects, and the training is shorter. It is obviously not possible or desirable that everyone should be able to do everyone else's job, but it is necessary to understand and be able to relate to others' skills. Because archi- tects' skills are less visible than builders', it is even more important that architects' skills should be de-mystified and made clear and accessible. How do we do that? Because women do not have a history of being builders or archi- tects, every project is like pioneering. Women want it to be really good because they do not have mothers and grandmothers who have done it before, and who prove they will be able to do it too. This ques- tion of confidence affects day-to-day work. In many ways women expect more of each other than they do of men, and worry lest others should think they are not doing a good enough job. How do we estab- lish standards of our own, ways that suit our skills and expec- tations? 104 The constraints of money and time mean that on site there is continual pressure to keep working. Finding ways of working more equally involves making time to discuss ideas and work out prob- lems. While architects are paid enough to be able to choose to some extent how to spend their time, this is not the case for builders. There are no obvious answers to these questions. Exploring ways of working together takes place within a divided and exploita- tive building industry. We tried one way of working more closely together when two women architects worked on site with the Women's Building Co-op. The advantages of this design-and-build process are usually described functionally- it is more efficient to have designers and builders working closely together. Everyone knows more about what is going on, fewer mistakes are made of the kind that happen on conventional sites due to bad communication. These are advantages. But it is also important that the status differ- ences between designing and building work are broken down. The assumptions that go with conventional roles within the building industry are powerful. The definition ofjobs, which skills are considered necessary in the creation of buildings and how they are relatively valued and paid for - these are all issues of vital importance. We cannot expect to avoid these hierarchies, except per- haps on particular projects, but neither can we accept them. How women are involved in the building process affects the buildings we create as much as involvement in the design does. During the time we have been working together as Matrix we have continued to feel that more and more women are exploring the same ideas, wanting to learn how we can mould the physical environment around us. I have been trying to describe ideas and feelings about women and buildings which I think we are only beginning to understand clearly. It is a process of unravelling all the ways we are conditioned to think about the places around us, and then creating our own ways, our own spaces. It is a tentative, lurching process, sometimes making us feel trapped by endless trivial matters, sometimes giving us feelings of great excitement and discovery. What we have learnt is how much there is to discover, and that it is possible to make spaces that respond to women's needs. If we can become more aware of how the buildings we live and work in relate to how we live, then we can create buildings that work with women's struggle for libe- ration rather than against it. Working with women 105 8. Private kitchens, public cooking Discussions of housing often proceed from a consideration of a list of such basic human needs as clothing, food, warmth and shelter, in which housing is seen to satisfy the last need, that for shelter. How- ever housing is intimately related to another human need, that for food. The meaning and value of meals in our culture and time appear to depend not on an abstract consideration of starch and fats, proteins and vitamins, but upon where they are cooked, by whom, and for whom. The phrase 'home cooking' carries a meaning far beyond the preparation of meals in a house. It suggests security, nurturance, warmth. Delicious meals might be eaten in a restaurant, if you can afford it, but good food is eaten at home. In advertising, pictures abound of women/wives serving meals to their brightly expectant families. In this imagery it is not only sex stereotyping that is important but also the notion of service. In television commercials and on hoardings it is clear that the woman/ wife is not buying a particular product or cooking a particular dish so that she can have a good meal for herself. Her pleasure is in the rumblings of contentment from her man, and at the delighted expressions on her children's faces. Clearly the meaning of home cooking is associated with the value of a wife and mother's love. Since the passing of the Sex Discrimination Act boys may now be taught cookery. This has not had the effect of producing TV com- mercials where men's and women's roles are reversed within the family. Rather a bachelor is seen cooking the latest in convenience foods as a preliminary to the (presumed I seduction of his girlfriend. Has this particular vision of the domestic idyll always been so generally with us? Before the second world war many upper-class and upper-middle-class women had cooks. Although they had 106 responsibility for menu planning and style, it was their less fortu- nate sisters who did the work. Meanwhile many working-class women struggled with appalling housing and employment con- ditions and it was only with the greatest difficulty that they could produce hot food. Much of the housing stock lacked such basic amenities as hot water and places to store food, such as larders and cold stores. Since the second world war fitted kitchens have appeared in the houses of working-class owner-occupiers and council tenants. Modern kitchens were promoted as a way of increasing the 'house- wifely arts' and, paradoxically, of reducing the housewives' burden. The architect Jane Drew voiced this opinion in an article in Women's Illustrated when she said: 'I feel that every woman agrees that household drudgery must be banished after the war and that's why I'm concentrating on kitchens.'' However even in 1945 the value of modern kitchens in reducing housework was being questioned. An anonymous 'Housewife', in an article in a professional journal entitled 'Hopes and fears for the kit- chen: a straight talk to architects' made the point that: This super-kitchen idea wants debunking. It has come to us from America, and is presented to our eyes in ultra-smart advertisement illustrations, where there's a place for every- thing and everything in its place. The surfaces on either side of the sink have no more than a banana or two, a few small china pots, and an electric mixing bowl with a ten-pound look. And presiding over this streamlined work place is a young lady alluringly chic, with three-inch Louis heels, a perfectly sweet little apron, and a coiffure that a Hollywood star might envy. She is never doing anything more onerous than stirring a sau- cepan in the most ladylike manner.2 The anonymous housewife's fears have been confirmed by research which shows that instead of the numbers of hours spent by housewives doing housework declining since 1945, they have, if anything, increased.a Much of this housework time is spent in pre- paring meals, and clearing up after them. This is not to suggest that cooking is itselfan unpleasant activity. Many women get great plea- sure from some kinds of cookery. But having to plan, shop for, cook and wash up after a main meal every day is hard work. It is an Private kitchens. public cooking 107 Making Space assumption in the marriage contract that this work will be the responsibility of women. It could be argued that the mere provision of a kitchen does· not, by itself, force a woman to cook in it. This is obviously true. If all women were to refuse to participate in meal provision except on a reciprocal basis with men, the problem for women of having prime responsibility for domestic work would be solved. To do this would require a ,-evolution in society: not only would work within the house be equally distributed between men and women, but work outside the house as well. Does this mean, then, that the meanings of'home' and its physical container, the house, cannot be challenged until such a revolution occurs? Recent feminist history has been concerned to uncover reformist experiments that have made these challenges. Dolores Hayden has discovered a history of feminist designs for cities, dis- tricts and houses. Most of these experiments were run for and by middle-class women as purely private ventures. For this reason, this chapter will focus on what was for me, and I am sure for most of my generation, an unknown experiment which took place during the second world war. Between 1940 and 1950 restaurants or cafeterias known as British Restaurants were run by local authorities on a non-profit- making basis. The restaurants were primarily organized to meet working-class need; commercial establishments catered for the rich. British Restaurants set out to provide well-balanced, nourishing meals in places convenient for people to eat in. The second world war caused immense disruption to the totality of everyday life. Single women were mobilized and sent off to work where necessary. By June 1940 over 5 million women were in civil employment.4 Women who had children or other dependants to look after were urged to do voluntary work. About a million women were active as voluntary workers in civil defence, the WVS. and other organizations:" Family life was further disrupted by the evacuation ofchildren and expectant mothers. Millions were evacuated in 1940, only to return to their dwellings later in the war. State intervention occurred in every aspect of life. Rationing was introduced in January 1940 for ham, bacon, sugar and butter. It was to continue ever more stringently throughout the war and was not lifted until 1951. The mainspring for the inception of British Restaurants was a desire to ensure that everybody had enough to 108 eat. Concerned individuals and pressure groups before the war had produced evidence to show that mothers and children in the lowest income groups were undernourished.6 These children would have become workers and soldiers on which the war effort had to depend. Lord Woolton, who became Minister for Food, had been deeply affec- ted by this problem earlier in his life. When working as a social worker in Liverpool, his next door neighbour had quietly died of starvation.7 Community feeding became an accepted part of government policy. It was announced that: The development of Community Feeding is settled Government policy, the object ofwhich is to ensure that people who find diffi- culty for any reason in obtaining food should, as far as possible, have the opportunity of getting at least one hot meal each day. For a variety of reasons, e.g. the rise in the cost of living, the evacuation of womenfolk, the transference of male labour, and the expansion of female labour in industry, real difficulties are being experienced and it is of paramount importance in the interests of public morale and as part of the war effort that everything possible should be done by the Government to meet the problem.8 Community feeding was developed by the Ministry of Food in four ways. Regulations were introduced which obliged factories over a certain size to provide canteens. A schools dinner service was initiated. Volunteers for the Women's Voluntary Service took pies to land workers in country areas. A plan for communal feeding centres was formed. A circular was sent around to local authorities in 1940 which permitted them to set up centres. They were to be called British Res- taurants. Churchill had decided on the name, as he thought the term communal feeding centre 'odious' and remarked that it was suggestive of 'communism and the workhouse'.9 The first British Restaurant opened in September 1940. As the government offered further assistance in the form of interest free loans for capital expenditure, and a promise to make good losses, the programme gained momentum. By September 1941, a thousand British Res- taurants had been opened. The numbers rose until there were 2,000 by 1943. There was no uniformity in the location of British Restaurants. 109 Private kitchens, public cooking Makin!f Space The scale of the experiment was not large. In January 1944 when the number of restaurants was at its peak it was estimated that nearly 2 per cent of the population could have had its main meal served in a British Restaurant. British Restaurants served 'simple meals at simple prices'.10 A typical menu in the Elephant and Castle restaurant, London, reported by a Mass Observation reporter. consisted of soup, brown stew. potatoes. cabbage and marmalade pudding. The soup cost 2d. the meat and vegetables 6d and the pudding 2d. The price of a cup of tea wa,; Hd. An entire meal would have cost one shilling.11 The nwals were intended to be of a high nutritional quality and they were two-thirds of the price of the nearest comparable equivalent. l\lid-da~· nwals wen• al,;o st•n·t•d. Some restaurants also served after- noon tl•a and snacks. and a few provided suppers as well. A small proportion. particular!~· in the North-east. operated a cash-and- carr.v ,;ervice. Tht• n•,;taurant,; \H'n' ,;elf-service. and often housed in make- ,;hift building,;. The>'l' might bt• an.vthing from a school or church hall to thl• l'itt Club. Cambridge 1an t•xclusivt• gentleman's club l. :10. lnteri"r "(" Hritish Restaurant f /,ondcmt'r·s Meal Service!. 110 The Ministry of Food developed a special 'Nashcrete' concrete hut, made in a range of four types. which housed approximately 200 of the restaurants. Efforts were made to make the surroundings in all the restaur- ants as pleasant as possible. They were clean and simple. In some, wartime propaganda was displayed; others were more cheerful with murals and art exhibitions. In 1942 a professional artist was retained by the Ministry to advise on improving the interiors and kitchens in the restaurants. The British Restaurants run by the London County Council arranged a scheme for lunch-time music. 12 Private caterers were opposed to the restaurants, which they thought would steal their custom. They also resented the element of state support. Although their complaints were vociferous it is doubt- ful whether they could have dealt with the needs met by British Restaurants. Even though profit margins allowed by the large industrial caterers tended to be low, their prices were higher and their standards inferior to British Restaurants. In the only instance where a private firm put in a competing bid to open up an establish- ment instead of a British Restaurant, the Ministry of Food turned down the proposal as inadequate. 13 The protests of the caterers had two interesting effects. The first was to increase the difficulties in opening a British Restaurant. In each case the Ministry and the local authority had to consider care- fully whether private caterers met existing needs, and an assess- ment had to be made as to whether the restaurant could be self- supporting. The second effect was to discourage the use ofvoluntary labour in the restaurants, as this would have constituted unfair competition with private industry. An internal Ministry of Food memorandum in 1942 set out the complexities of the situation (and revealed the author's own prejudices): Whilst we cannot in so many words say that we do not want voluntary help in British Restaurants we should do what we can gently and tactfully to discourage it. This will not be easy because in some areas organisations like the WVS are con- stantly seeking more outlets and canteen work for some reason or other seems to appeal very much to women.14 Although women who wanted voluntary work may have wanted to work in canteens, it seems that women who required pay Private kitchens. public cookinp 111 Making Space for their services were not so keen. One ofthe difficulties reported in setting up British Restaurants was finding skilled cooks, because many had left catering for the higher wages in other industries. The prices charged by the restaurants were not kept low at the expense of the staff. By the end of the war three-quarters of British Restaur- ants were paying wages at the nationally agreed union rate for the job.ts The division of labour by sex operated in classic fashion in the hierarchical organization of British Restaurants. The Divisional Food Officer who was in overall charge of a number of restaurants was usually a man, whereas the restaurant cooks and workers were women. It is possible that some women may have been able to increase their status within the hierarchy by becoming cook- advisers. The National Council for Social Services brought together two surveys on British Restaurants. One, carried out in Birmingham, found that whilst the customers were predominantly industrial or factory workers, the restaurants served all ages and social groups. There were regional differences in the proportions of the sexes using the establishments. In London almost as many women were cus- tomers as men, but in Birmingham the proportion was reversed to two or three times more men than women. 16 The Ministry of Food also noted that whereas in Birmingham only 4 per cent of the cus- tomers were housewives, this figure rose to 20 or 30 per cent in rural areas. It is difficult to account for these differences, but the figures do suggest that the restaurants catered for a variety of need. What does seem important is that while the restaurants took the burden from women by catering for married and single men, they also seemed to serve a significant proportion of women. A remark overheard by a Mass Observation reporter, which was made by a woman in a British Restaurant in Vincent Street, London, illustrates the point: 'And take a woman at home- there's nobody coming in till evening; she can come across here and get a meal and save gas and like as not she wouldn't have a proper meal.'17 For women who were spending long periods of time of their own, and who would be unlikely to take the time and effort to cook a meal for themselves, British Restaur- ants could provide a unique service. The National Council for Social Services, who wrote a report in favour of the continuation of British Restaurants after the war, gave 112 a somewhat rosy view of the egalitarian nature of the establish- ments. More often the office worker, the director, the student and the industrial worker are to be found, not only eating at the same table, but discussing the day's news with each other when they reach the cup of tea and cigarette which is often the conclusion of their meal. 18 This idyll is amended by other evidence. For example, a Mass Obser- vation reporter records the example of the woman who, after an initial venture into a British Restaurant, refused to go into one again, because the first time some youths had sat opposite her, made a lot of noise and eaten with their hats on. So some of the genteel middle classes may have been put off by the prospect of a working- class clientele eating with them, in somewhat utilitarian surround- ings. Among the people who lived near a British Restaurant, who could find it, and who ate in it, the restaurants were reasonably popular. A Gallup poll taken in 1944 found that, of their sample, 53 per cent had eaten a meal in a British Restaurant, and 43 per cent said that they would do so again. When asked if British Restaurants should continue after the war, 60 per cent said that they should, 17 per cent said that they should not, and 23 per cent did not know.19 The comments recorded in Mass Observation's archives are mainly favourable, perhaps the most enthusiastic being: 'And they have to wait for a war to start places like these. Why can't they think ofit in peace time?'20 From 1944 onwards the number of British Restaurants de- clined. The question of whether the restaurants should continue after the war was discussed in newspaper articles, women's organiz- ations, trade union branches and political parties. Opinion was sharply divided between the political parties. The Conservative Minister for Food, J. Hunt Crowley, spoke out against continuation in 1944. He argued that after the war women would leave industry and go back to 'look after their homes'. The Labour Party was in favour of the restaurants, and their 1945 manifesto included a pledge to continue them under democratic control, an idea sup- ported by sections of the labour movement. Their concern was with the service provided to workers in industry. The Electricians' Trade Union recommended: 'This Conference, recognizing the value of Private kitchens, public cooking 113 Makinl( Space British Restaurants and Industrial Canteens and the service they have rendered to workers during the war, urges their continuance under democratic control in the post-war period.' Some women's groups were in favour of the restaurants. The basis of their support was a concern for women's health. The Con- servative Women's Reform Group argued for the continuance ofthe meals service on a voluntarv basis because it would free mothers for part of their busy day.~1 A ~ub-committee of the Women's Group on Public Welfare proposed state-run restaurants, milk and potato bars, and pubs that served hot food as well as alcohol. This recom- mendation was made in a report describing in detail the difficulties families experienced living in slum conditions. The anonymous author of the report argued her case from the needs of working-class women. Humanity must be faced as it is; it is bad psychology to expect all women to be domestic, or even if they are, to make the conti- nual sacrifice of time and energy necessary to compensate for shocking domestic conditions. The lesson of the fish and chip shop is that everyone not only wants, but needs, often impera- tively, the possibility of getting meals without having to pre- pare them.~~ Fear about the effects that a state-run meals service would have on family life often surfaced. For example the National Council for Social Services cited a survey that suggested: It would seem that if a wife does not cook her husband's main meal she loses an important function in his life; there is a fear that the extension of these restaurants would disrupt family life.~" The survey did not specify whether this anxiety was voiced by the husband or the wife! At this time, the sexual division of labour was taken so much for granted that it was inconceivable to propose that men should do their share of the cooking. At the same time wartime experience had sugge!lted that communal eating could be economically advan- tageous. However in a period of rising divorce and illegitimacy rates, family life was seen as being both fragile and precious. An Army Bureau of Current Affairs bulletin, the voice of the liberal establishment, posed the dilemma raised by British Restaurants: 114 In wartime most of us eat in community, such as in a mess, a British Restaurant, a canteen, a club. What are the merits of this procedure, and what are the drawbacks? Is it a procedure which should be encouraged after the war, or not? By eating in community we effect economies of large-scale production, we save time, we save labour in the home and in the shops. Against that we sacrifice privacy and we neglect the housewifely arts. But, above all, we lose that singular opportunity which a family gets, by eating together, of building a sort of family esprit de corps. And, after all, no matter how much we develop the wide community sense we must remember that the basic social unit is, in fact, the family. What is the answer to this complicated problem?24 Following the Labour Party's general election victory in 1945 several local authorities promoted a parliamentary bill to enable them to set up restaurants. In 1946 the Minister of Food introduced the Civic Restaurants Bill in the House of Commons. Whereas pub- lic discussions had centred on the future participation of women in the waged labour force, working-class needs and family life, the par- liamentary debate concentrated on fears that local authority res- taurants would provide unfair competition with private caterers. It was also felt that ifthe restaurants were licensed, women with chil- dren or without a male escort would feel discouraged from using them. The need for the restaurants was argued in terms of reducing the burden of housewives' work at home, rather than (as had been proposed at the restaurants' inception) to resolve the contradictions between women's responsibilities for domestic work in the home and the expansion of the female labour force. So the way was left open for the opponents of state provision to argue that housewives' needs were already catered for in the expanded housing programme. A Conservative MP, Sir William Darling, observed: If His Majesty's Government are building kitchens in which domestic cooking is to be raised to a higher standard, the need for civic restaurants, surely, disappears. Are we engaged in the encouragement of the domestic arts and in the building of kit- chens? I suggest it would be a waste of public money to engage, at the same time, in the provision of municipal restaurants. If adequate facilities are supplied to the housewife, with all these Private kitchens, public cooking 115 Making Space labour saving devices of which we have heard so much, there would be no need for this collectivised socialised soup kitchen that is being offered to them today.25 31. Intl'rior of" purposl'·hllilt London County Council cit·ic n•st(lumnt "-'it opl'nl'cl in 1949. Thl· Civic Rl•staurants Act was pas:;ed in 1947 and empowered local authoritil'S to sl•t up municipal re:;taurants provided that there was a nl•ed and that the restaurant:; could be :;elf-supporting. In 194H 770 civic n•staurants were in operation; by February 1949 the number had fallen to 678.~'; Few. if a ny. civic restaurants have sur- vivl•d. The last civic restaurant in Sheffield was sold to a private contractor in 196:l.~' Nowadays the vestiges of the wartime meals sl•rvin• reside in the school dinners service, and meals-on-wheels and lunch clubs for the elderly. British Restaurants had been an emblem of 'fair shares' in a time of national stress. In 1951 food rationing was lifted. In the economic boom which followed, it was thought that poverty had been eradicated. Poverty did not become a matter for public concern again until the mid-1960s. l!f-i The immediate post-war period was one of compromise and con- tradiction in state policies towards women. On the one hand women, the last industrial reserve of labour, were to be drawn into employ- ment; on the other, family life was to be supported and the emotional well-being of children ensured. By implication women were meant to be in the home and at work. At the same time there was a tremendous drive to increase pub- lic housing. It would seem likely that the large municipal auth- orities who were most enthusiastic about continuing civic restaurants were also those most committed to public housing. After the war there was a shortage of building materials and labour as well as an acute lack of housing. Possibly these pressing issues of accommodation took priority over what would have been seen as a risky political experiment. Furthermore male prejudice cannot be discounted. In a radio broadcast of this period men spoke disparagingly of the 'mass pro- duced belly fodder' of Army life and talked longingly of home-cooked meals.28 Hilary Land has suggested that it is no coincidence that wartime services such as nurseries and restaurants were set up when men were called away to the front and, in their absence, their wives' services were no longer required.29 A choice was posed in the post-war period between anonymous public institutions and a per- sonal service given by women to men within the sanctity of their homes. British Restaurants could be related to a whole series of pro- posals for socializing aspects of domestic work. It could be argued that such ventures are merely exercises in fuel economy. Argu- ments about economy are important because, as Dolores Hayden suggests, the isolated household uses large resources of human labour and time. It has been estimated that women with young chil- dren spend a staggering 77 hours a week doing housework.30 Even splitting this weekly amount with men would only bring it down to 36~ hours - a full working week! In an ideal future socialized and mechanized household tasks could release women and men's ener- gies for more stimulating activities. A problem remains: the 'materialist feminist' tradition which Hayden uncovered did not propose socializing housework by redis- tributing it to men. Rather the materialist feminists' plans for kit- chenless houses, co-operative housekeeping and feminist cities attempted to put housework as 'women's sphere' on a sounder foot- Private kitchens, public cooking 117 Making Space ing, independent of men, but not in opposition to them. Proposals for socializing housework after the second world war also appeared with suggestions of communal kitchens, nurseries, play rooms and sewing centres. Elizabeth Wilson points out that these proposals did not conflict with the idea of domestic work as women's work, rather they formed part of a concept of home-making as a female career.31 The danger, then, of such communal experiments is that they can represent an alternative strait-jacket for women. The sexual divison of labour has not been questioned by them. It has simply been transformed. The conditions of women's work might have changed, but not necessarily for the better. Ann Oakley found that the aspect of their role housewives enjoyed most was their auton- omy.32 This aspect might disappear if housework were done commu- nally. British Restaurants did go some way, however, towards recog- nizing the value of work women normally do unpaid. That the staff were paid union rates is important. However a state-run meals ser- vice could never be a revolutionary endeavour in itself. After all communal restaurants exist in Sweden now, and women there say that they have a long way to go in ending sexual discrimination and oppression. The most significant aspect of the British Restaurants exper- iment lay in its challenge to the responsibilities the state which ascribes to women in the marriage contract. British Restaurants took some of the responsibility from wives in servicing their hus- bands. Furthermore they were a non-coercive service. People could choose to use them or not, and if they did use them they did not lose entitlement to other benefits or services. nor were they stigmatized. British Restaurants were set up when women were needed to work outside the home, and when family life was disrupted. Since the second world war housing policy has been constructed around the premise that women do unpaid domestic work in the home, and are dependent upon a male breadwinner. However an increasing number of married women have been drawn into the waged labour force, so that now approximately half of all married women are in waged employment. Moreover the 'ideal' family of male breadwin- ner, dependent wife and children now forms a minority of house- holds. There are different types of household- single people. old age pensioners, single parents. couples in waged work - none of whom have a full-time wife to service them. 118 Cooking for one person, or two, can not only be expensive and inconvenient, but can also be a lonely affair. British Restaurants aimed to provide a homely, friendly environment. The options for single people today who want to eat outside their homes are restricted. The choice tends to lie between cafes ofthe 'greasy spoon' variety, and soulless fast-food places which, in any case, project themselves at a family market. That a need for cheap hot food cooked outside the home exists is evidenced by the growth in fast-food take-away services. The quality of the food provided by these private caterers is question- able, particularly ifregarded as a staple part ofa diet, and not a sup- plement to it. In the current recession nutritional problems are resurfacing. There are reports ofchildren with rickets, and ofunder- nourished pregnant women on supplementary benefit. The problem of poverty remains, and is, if anything, getting worse. The assumptions behind state policies towards housing, welfare benefits and health are now being criticized by feminists and socia- lists. The British Restaurants experiment combined an approach to issues of poverty and malnutrition with an implicit challenge to women's unpaid labour in the home. As such, the experiment could, to use a well-worn cliche, provide us with food for thought. Private kitchens. public cooking 119 9. House and home How does the experience of bringing up a baby change women's attitudes to their homes? Are there any particular requirements of which housing policy makers, designers and architects should be aware? What follows is a report of conversations with several women friends touching on various issues connected with life in the home. It draws on our experiences and talks about the day-to-day details of our lives with young children. These details and feelings may appear trivial, routine and unworthy of examination and they therefore become invisible and invalid. That they appear so may be a reflection of the way the world of the baby seems to shrink to a size that can be accommodated by an infant constantly facing new experiences, watched by the mother with excitement and pleasure, as it acquires recognition of people and places. The world shrinks too for the mother, forced to adapt herself to the baby's pace. However, the invalidation of the mother's experiences is part of the way society ignores the situation of women with young children - an extension of its lack of concern for the needs of women generally. The house as a type of building is particularly interesting for the richness of associations embodied in what often appear to be straightforward solutions to mundane requirements. Perhaps for this reason, talking about our homes and our feelings round the idea of'home' and 'the family' is extremely personal and can be very diffi- cult and threatening. Often we feel guilty and defensive. Sometimes we do not see any alternative to what we've got. Can we visualize a new furniture arrangement? Can we imagine a household set-up beyond our current one? Are our homes really mirrors of our inner personalities? Should we keep them like our mothers would? Because the ideas discussed here are personal and exploratory, 120 I found that it was necessary to talk to friends, and easier to have long conversations, rather than conducting a series of interviews. So I talked with friends including several architects who were trained to visualize buildings and spaces and can imagine using their homes in different ways. All of us are middle-class professional women liv- ing in converted nineteenth-century houses in central London. We are a privileged group with an unusual degree of control over our environment. Three of us are single parents. All of us work outside the home in professional jobs and therefore have relinquished sole care of our children. The group is hardly a representative sample. The aim was not to investigate a statistical norm but to spark off a different way of thinking about our homes. I am taking it as read that many women bring up children in conditions of grinding poverty and extreme hardship, with no chance to choose and control their environment. My intention is not to go over this ground but rather to recount the equally valid experiences of some women who have been able to be conscious of their changing requirements. The women quoted in this chapter are: Alexi, who has a young baby, Andre, is an architect teaching and researching in architecture and planning, and is married to Michael. They live in a three-storey terrace house. Linda, a single parent with a 3-year-old daughter, Ellie, who at the time was working part-time as an architect in a local authority. They live in a ground-floor flat. Caroline, also a single parent, with a 5-month-old son, Barney. She is a supply teacher for English as a second language, and they live in a large, communal house of 12 people, including, Sue, who has a 2-year-old son, Ossie, and was about to have her second child. She is an archaeologist and married to Mike. Val, who has a 14-year-old son, Jud, and a 6-year-old daughter, Jess. She is a modeller and makes models for films. She lives in the top three floors of a terrace house. Her marriage had broken up about two years before the conversations. Benedicte, the author, has a 3-year-old son, Kim, and a 6- month-old daughter, Kate, and works full-time as an architect in local government. They live with the father, Mike, and Ann, who looks after the children when Benedicte and Mike are out at work, in the top three floors ofa terrace house. The comments in this chapter should be seen against a cultural background of the privatization of childcare and housework where House and home 121 Making Space women almost always carry the real responsibility for young chil- dren, for even communal households are merely individual attempts to find an alternative way of life, like islands in an ocean of nuclear families. A prisoner in her own home After the birth of a baby, many women find themselves feeling iso- lated and depressed, perhaps because of the interruption in a rou- tine of going out of the house to work, exacerbated by the physical difficulties of getting about with the new-born baby. The mother is terribly bound up in the young baby, and her focus is changed from a range of relationships and experiences to a concentrated one-to-one intimacy with the baby. Being pregnant is like being old and infirm; now after the birth I feel like I'm disabled, trying to get around loaded down with baby, pram, nappy bag, change ofclothes, bottles etc. etc. There are lots ofplaces I avoid going to now I've a young child. When he was a baby there was a problem about breastfeeding and changing nappies, then I was worried that he'd throw a tantrum, and now there's the awkwardness ofhis beingjust out ofnappies but every now and then being in urgent need ofa toilet. Public transport is excellent as far as getting to work goes - a train journey and it's only 20 minutes door to door - but for other trips, well, I need the car for visiting friends as I don't have very many friends locally and without a car it would entail a struggle with British Rail, tube and bus which would have been virtually imposs- ible when Ellie was little. I park the car as close outside the flat as possible. Even women who can drive, have easy access to a car, and recognize that the car allows them to travel with the baby, feel reluctant to drive on their own. I'm terrified she'll wake up and cry and I can't stand that. There is the added dimension of psychological distance. We are not just talking about the time required to ferry babies about, nor about the problem of work and efficiency in a speedy culture, though clearly these are real problems, but about increased tensions in 122 getting to the place of work, separation from the child, and childcare arrangements. Work is a 20-minute cycle ride away. But now ifI have to take Andre with me I have to use the car and struggle with rush-hour traffic and mess about finding somewhere to park. IfI'm leaving him behind I'm also very conscious of how long it takes to get to work as I'm con- stantly aware that 5 hours' childcare by someone else equals only 3~ hours of work by me at the most. So psychologically work is actually a lot further away now. The design of a house can positively discourage people from attempting to go out. The ideal arrangement is a front door at pave- ment level with a large and warm hall where a pram, and later a tri- cycle, can be kept. Our hall is particularly narrow, so I knew a normal pram was out of the question and I bought one ofthose pram-buggies, and when Kim was very tiny he spent most evenings with us in the kitchen while we cooked and ate and we'd have the pram set up and take it in turns rocking it with one foot so we'd have some peace and quiet while we ate. When I wanted to go out I would have to 1) take the bouncing chair down to the hall, 2) come upstairs to the kitchen (two flights) and dress Kim in his outdoor clothes and take him down and strap him in the chair, 3) go upstairs and dismantle the pram and take the buggy wheels down to the hall, 4) go upstairs and carry the carry-cot and blankets down to the hall (very difficult to manoeuvre this quite heavy object down the narrow stairs), 5) take the buggy wheels down the steep front steps to the pavement and set them up, 6) take the carry-cot down to the pavement and fix it to the wheels, shouting through the open front door to Kim so he didn't feel abandoned, 7) rush in and get Kim (hoping no one was wheeling the pram away) and carry him down the front steps and put him in the pram and at last set out on our expedition. What kind of house do I want? It is a truism to say that people have brought up children in all sorts of houses, but how has the use of the spaces altered as people's life- styles have undergone the violent changes involved in having chil- dren? How have people, with apparent ease, adapted their approach and their routines to allow for the quirks of their homes? House and home 123 Making Space I live in a garden flat in what looks like a two-storey house; in fact there are two flats, one above the other. I have changed the use ofthe rooms several times since Ellie was born. For six months she slept in my bedroom, then I moved her into my dressing room and put my clothes in what had been the junk room. Then, after she was one year old, we did a complete turn around and my bedroom, which looks onto the back garden, became the living room and the old living room at the front of the house became my bedroom with the room next to it becoming officially Ellie's room. The idea is that that's large enough to be a playroom too and I switched my bedroom so that I could be sure ofhearing her in the night. The access to the back garden is through the kitchen unfortunately, because it's all too narrow for her to rush in and out with toys.l'd like to make the living room and dining room one space with a door to the garden from it. The flat is almost on the street. There are three steepish steps to the pavement which was a bit ofa struggle with the pram. Also I stored the pram under the stairs and always fell over it; now Ellie's in a buggy and that's OK. Ellie's outdoor clothes are put away in the cup- board half-way down the corridor, so although the hall is long and narrow it's not impossible. But except for switching the use ofthe rooms around I haven't had to make any major changes, and the flat has worked really well. We do have central heating and as Ellie was born during a very cold spring I kept the heating on very high and constantly blasting away for the first three or four weeks. Also I bought a dimmer switch so I could turn the light down low in the bedroom when she was asleep, but that's all the adaptations I made. Our house is a three-storey terrace house which opens at the front straight onto the street and goes straight through to the garden at the back. We haven't made any alterations to the house since having Andre, rather we've adapted existing arrangements in a very small way. For instance in the bedroom I've adjusted my bedside light to reflect on the wall and give a soft diffused light which is very calm and restful for feeding fthough not so good for reading!). We now have the radia- tor on in the bedroom so that I can feed at night naked and it's also warm enough to change him in a relaxed way. I bought a small elec- tric blow heater so I can plug it in in any room we want to be in and I can leave him to kick without his nappy. 124 The kitchen used to be the centre ofthe house but it isn't anymore, partly because as Andre doesn't eat solids yet he doesn't eat in there and as it's a cool room he can't be left to kick. In fact it's the bathroom, which contains the washing machine and tumble dryer, which feels like the centre ofthe house now. For Linda and Alexi then, the arrival of their babies did not cause any outbreak of complaints against their homes; if anything, the reverse. I actually appreciate this flat more now with Ellie. It's very convenient being on one level and the fact that we're so near the shops and don't have to cross any major roads to get to them is excellent. It is worth noting that Linda's flat has the extra flexibility that decent-sized rooms on one level provide. For instance she has four rooms, any one of which could be used as a living room. Alexi's house on the other hand has the more traditional arrangement of living rooms on the ground opening onto the garden with bedrooms upstairs. In the non-traditional, communal house too there were no direct complaints about the house plan: We live in a communal household- basically it's two adjacent terrace houses made into one large one. There's now a total of12 rooms with two bathrooms, three WCs and the communal kitchen and 'Big Room' where we sit and also eat. Mike and I share two rooms which open into each other and Ossie has a room upstairs. The idea in this house is that each person, child or adult, has their own room though a couple might share both rooms or have a separate room each. There are difficulties about having children in a shared house; for example, there's no peaceful teatime because I feel I have to quickly clear up the mess before the others get back from work. Also because the house is big and Ossie's room is upstairs from ours, we have to use a baby alarm, but now Caroline's had Barney the two alarms seem to cut each other out. · This household had been through some major policy changes in the previous year. There's no longer any income sharing. Everyone has to contribute at the same fixed rate. Also the house has given up shared childcare so House and home 125 Making Space now it's the total responsibility ofthe parent or parents. So although it's a wonderful place to have a baby, being clean, warm, spacious and with a garden,/ feel in a way very much on my own even though Sue's been a fantastic help both during pregnancy and at the birth. In fact, it emerged that slight alterations in the form of the plan, to handle the boundary between public and private space more subtly, would have helped the two mothers significantly: In addition to the Big Room, we're making the small room down- stairs into a communal but child-free and quiet room and I think this will help because at the moment it's impossible to feel very relaxed about having Barney or even his little bouncing chair out in the even- ing. And when I went into mixed feeding because my milk supply was running low,[ had to go through the Big Room to the kitchen to heat the bottle up and I felt everyone was watching me and witnessing my inadequancy. For Val, having children marked a drastic change in her life for, unlike the rest of us, she and Julian found they had to move after they had their first child. Eventually they bought a terraced house and spent the next 12 years adapting it to meet their changing needs. After a year with the baby in a cockroach and mouse infested base- ment. we bought this house. There were some sitting tenants and we had the ground floor with a big room at the front and a largish bed- room at the back and a big extension at the rear with a small sitting room and kitchen. The house was neat and in good condition but awkwardly planned. We shared a bathroom with upstairs. After a year we altered the plan. We made an opening between the front sitting room and the back room which became the kitchen/din- ing room with a door onto the garden. We put in a small bathroom in the back extension and the rest of it was our bedroom with a space behind the cupboard for Jud. It was t•er:v compact, and good for hav- ing lots of people in for meetings. It worked t•er:v well while we just had Jud but when he was 5 or 6 it became really overcrowded. It didn't bother me having him sleep in our bedroom, but he needed his own room and missed out because he didn't get that till he was B. When Jess was born we shifted around. The elderly tenants couldn't manage the stairs well any more. so they moved down to the ground floor but didn't want the back extension so that room is now 126 rented out to someone else and he has use of the garden and comes upstairs and shares the kitchen and bath. We put in a spiral staircase from upstairs to the garden but don't use it much. When we moved upstairs the relationship between Julian and me had become hairy and decisions about the plans for the house were important for how we were going to live. We needed a plan we could all live in together, but it had to be adaptable in case I was to be on my own with the kids and, as I would have to work, I would need a studio in the house; so I reckoned we needed a kitchen and a living room and then a room for each ofus. A t this stage I wanted space and privacy and was totally opposed to the open plan. My room was the studio in the back extension and our bedroom at the top was nominally Julian's room. But we had a big fight over dividing one of the big rooms so that the children had a room each. My own experience has been that the way various rooms relate to each other is critical, that the ideal arrangement changes with the advent of the baby, as it grows up, and that it continues to change as the number ofchildren alters. We had lived in this house quite a long time, five years. before having Kim. When we moved in we were literally camping, carrying water up the stairs, boiling kettles and scrounging baths offfriends. I used to be very excited about the house and all the work we were doing con- verting it. I liked learning how to lay bricks and what it felt like phy- sically to break up a 3-inch concrete slab in the backyard. I found it amazing that we could change the shape and the feel of the rooms with our own hands. Also we were very involved outside the house with work, trade union meetings, politics. If we were at home we were either working, cooking big meals for friends or sleeping. I have never been house- proud either in the sense ofworking very hard to sustain an image of myselfthrough my home nor ofbeing concerned about what the house represented in terms ofinvestment, comfort, stability. When we were expecting Kim people shook their heads and said how difficult it would be. The piles ofcrockery on open shelves were predicted for early smashing. The stairs were pronounced a potential danger. The lack of central heating would lead to miserable night feeds and bouts ofcoughs and colds. And although we- and the chil- dren- are surviving (and it gives me quite a lot ofpleasure to know House and home 127 Making Space we can get byJI think my attitude to the house has changed a lot since having children. This is partly a result of spending more time at home and therefore being forced to be aware of discomforts and inconveniences. But it is also because my needs have changed, both in terms ofsimple functional requirements (/s there room for the baby's cot plus extra furniture? Can I clean the floor adequately after the baby has thrown up? Where can I bathe the new-born?) and also in terms ofsome newly conscious emotional desires. Our maisonette is at the top ofa narrow Victorian terrace house. There are only two rooms on each floor with a small back extension which contains the utility room and spare bathroom on the halfland- ings. We have five rooms, all thought ofas quite separate. We decided to make all the rooms feel very private so when we rebuilt the stair- case we made a solid wall up the middle instead ofbanisters which does make each landing feel more cut off Also for privacy, because we tended to share our place with someone and because we often had friends coming to stay for quite long periods, we decided to separate our bedroom from the spare bedroom rather than having the tra- ditional grouping of all the bedrooms, so that we could all listen to music or make love or quarrel in our rooms without feeling too con- scious ofdisturbing someone else, so the spare room and our bedroom are separated by an intermediate floor containing the study. But this arrangement is not so good when there are young children around. As there are no adjacent bedrooms the study had to become the nursery, and as it is a steep flight ofstairs from our bedroom, I was terrified I wouldn't hear Kim if he cried, so, even armed with a baby alarm, it took me more than four months before I dared move Kim out ofour bedroom. And as he was a light sleeper, this created a lot oftension. I was concerned to be in the room when Kim woke (nervous first- time mother! so I spent a lot oftime sitting on the bedroom floor try- ing to work or attempting to carry on a quiet phone conversation. As I only felt happy at leaving him when he was well and truly asleep I think I often picked him up to take him downstairs with me when he was probably just on the verge of falling asleep. I think now if we'd had rooms which opened into each other more so that I could have been in the same space as Kim but not too near him. he might have had the amount ofsleep he needed and I might have had more time to myself Interestingly enough, with Kate I had a different sort ofdifficulty. 128 She is an incredibly relaxed baby and could go to sleep anywhere. We started off with a moses basket in the kitchen but Kim and his friend Joseph got too excited standing on chairs and trying to tip over the basket to get a better view. So, I sort ofretreated upstairs with her and had some lovely sunny November days up there while Kim felt more and more left out. I think if there were more spaces, more easily linked together, it would be possible for Kim to be not too close to Kate without actually rejecting her by going into another room and shutting the door. (This is made worse by the fact that, for fire escape reasons, all our doors have to be self-closing.) And if we had more bedrooms closer together we'd have been able to put Kate in her own room and then Kim prob- ably wouldn't have gone through his recent phase ofrefusing to go to bed in his room and insisting on sleeping with us. The other interesting point is our kitchen, which consists of work- tops made ofdoors on bricks and with open shelving- it's been tem- porary for years and in fact has gone through three different metamorphoses. It is certainly not child-proof. What is fascinating is that Kim and Joseph have always played with the crockery as well as the pots and pans and as a result have learnt how to handle things carefully. The flights of steep stairs did rather shock one of the domiciliary midwives and I think having to get me to go down three flights of stairs to answer the doorbell put offsome neighbours from dropping in. However I do feel the exercise was rather a good thing as after both labours I felt fine and quite energetic and, once I'd got confident about holding Kim, negotiating the stairs didn't seem dangerous any more. Once Kim started to crawl though, another danger appeared. We contemplated getting stair gates (five would have been needed) and decided it would actually be safer to teach him to crawl up and down himself. It was a very slow and laborious process and it was tempting most ofthe time to just pick him up and carry him but it was amazing how early- 9 months- he learnt to cope. I am quite sure that the changes in preferred room relation- ships continue until the children are grown up and leave home. Should we be pressing then for dwellings to be designed to fit the needs of a family's life at a particular moment, with easy oppor- tunity to move house? Or do we look for designs for homes which allow enough elbow-room for some degree of flexibility? What are the additional costs of this and who pays? House and home 129 Makilllf Space Fridges. tr .zers and other magic Babies seem to bring with them the need for a battery of equipment, all of which requires storage space and a suitable place to use it. Toys aside, there are cloths and piles of nappies, changing mats, cots, plastic baths, bottles and sterilizing tanks (even breast-fed babies might want a suck ofwaterl and the dustbin seems to have to be twice as big as before. Shops are full of specialized bits of equip- ment, all requiring outlays of money. But many prospective parents manage to avoid purchasing huge quantities of things, and not just for reasons ofeconomy. I suppose I was superstitious so I didn't buy any ofthe layette. I was given some hand-me-downs by friends and the family baby cot and plastic bath and we went offand bought some terry nappies in a sale. I felt quite adamant that I wouldn't buy all these plastic toys but took great pleasure in rigging up bits of mobiles from coloured paper, corks and things and producing pots and wooden spoons instead of toy drums. Likewise you don't really need a huge sterilizing tank- a large plastic yoghurt carton and lid will do for a small bottle. As far as normal household electrical equipment goes there were no great changes in attitude: The fridge was useful a.~ it always has been but I discovered the freezer was really good for storing expressed milk and later for ice- cube sized lumps ofpureed food when solids were started. Also as I'm too tired to do much cooking in the evenings,/ take a cooked dish out ofthe freezer and heat it up. But the washing machine was generally considered essential. I can't imapint• hmt• people manage without a washing machine if tlreyh· put a hahy. Well./ know you can because I've got a friend who dtdn 't lrm·e a machine and washed all her first baby's clothes by hand and .~Ire .~aid illt'as OK because you only had to soak and rinse out six nappic.~ a day. Su I pue.~s she stuck to a four-hour interval between clranpinp nappies but I know I can get through 12 a day sometimes. Anyu•ay. it's not just the nappies- there are all the clothes which have been sicked on or leaked on and the bedding and my clothes as well. Both the washing machine and tumble dryer are invaluable. They were really liberating even before having kids and more so after. It's t•ery good to be able to rely on the clothes being washed, and dry, 130 ready for re-use, regardless of the vagaries of the weather, and it's essential ifthere's a run on nappies. Also it saves a lot ofsheer physi- cal work. On a larger scale, the daily routine of filling nappy buckets and putting nappies in the washing machine meant that having the bathroom in a central place in the house and near the washing machine simplified the job. And bathrooms that were spacious and warm were much appreciated. The top bathroom is very good as it's got a heater with a wide top over it and I can put him on it on a double towel and he can kick about while I get dressed because I know he won't fall off If there were enough room in the bathroom for a changing mat and the nappy bucket, I could sluice the nappy in the loo and put it straight into the sterilizing solution and then wash my hands instead oftrailing about from the bedroom to the loo and back to the bucket with dripping nappies and dirty bums and hands. Chained to the sink: attitudes to housework Among the people I spoke to there was great variation in arrange- ments for coping with the housework. What difference does a young child make besides creating more chores to be done in less time by a rather tired parent? The key thing to emerge was a feeling of reduced control over one's own time (and therefore the need to find simpler and quicker ways of achieving ends) and over one's environment (and hence a tendency to become more anxious about untidiness). The shopping I do in one go, usually on Friday night or Saturday morning at Sainsbury's with Ellie and in the car. Shopping used to be a strain in case Ellie had a tantrum in the shop. When Ellie was tiny I used the sling; once she could sit up I put her in the front ofthe trolley. At Putney there's a car-park attached and you can take the trolley to the car- this really determines where I shop now. But shop- ping has become a chore. I used to do house maintenance and decorating myself but since Ellie I've paid people to come and do some decorating. Short jobs such as laying lino or putting up light fittings I can still do myself in the evenings or when Ellie's at Jeanne's. I used to like DIY and regret I can't do more ofit now. House and home 131 Making Space I do all the cooking, mainly on Saturdays and Sundays. I enjoy cooking and would really like more time in the euenings to do it. I miss it. But the washing up tends to pile up. These days I do pretty basic English food and lots of spaghetti. The emphasis now is on speed and simplicity. Sometimes I do a more complicated meal and get Ellie inuolued- which ofcourse takes longer! We use the dining table and that gets filthy and the carpet gets couered. One of us goes on Saturday and buys crates of uegetables and fruit from the cash and carry. Then we do a bulk cook-in and freeze it all. There's a cool store at the back ofthe kitchen to keep the fresh fruit in. I think ironing is a waste oftime but I don't mind laundry, cleaning and shopping. In fact, I'ue discouered I quite enjoy the local shops and exploring my neighbourhood and also now with Andre I'ue a tend- ency to use the odd free moments for housework and feel pleased because I can achieue something in a short time. I'm bad at housework and hate it but ifanything I hate other people's mess more. Probably it's a question ofnot being in control ofit. It's the difference between calm and panic- it's a real physical thing but only in regard to my own house- I don't care in other people's houses. As I get older I manage to keep one room reasonable and I try to keep it as empty as possible. Central heating is a boon and also fitted carpets which are warm, quiet, easy to clean and a unifying thing. With Kim's arriual I started to worry about the dust which would be bad for his lungs. I suppose I did get more concerned with cleanli- ness especially when he started on solids and I began for the first time to be worried about the make-shift nature ofour kitchen and the diffi- culty of cleaning it properly. We had a kind of matting on the floor and when Kim started feeding himselfand dropping bits offood on the matting, it was impossible. I'm now uery keen to build the proper kitchen with cupboards with doors and lots ofeasy clean surfaces. The other aspect is my attitude to mess and untidiness as opposed to dirt. I remember when Kim was just a couple of weeks old Mike came back from work one euening to be greeted by a barrage offury because the house was a mess, the dishes hadn't been done the night before, the nappies hadn't been washed and the place was in chaos. He was quite surprised. We always had liued in chaos so what was new? I realized then that what was new was that I no longer had com- 132 plete control ofmy time: with a very new baby (and a first one at that) I felt I had to be available whenever needed so that I couldn't just put aside two hours to blitz the mess when it got more than I could bear and I realized then that what was upsetting me was not the mess but my lack ofcontrol over mY time. Castles in the air My ideal would be to live in the country and have a garden ifmy kids were still small and I was living on my own with them. But I'm happy with what I've got now because to tell the truth I can't envisage an alternative. I don't believe in Ideals. I would like to be very centrally located in London and lack ofmoney would certainly prevent the achievement ofthe location ifnot the rest! The situation would be in an urban but green area with mature trees around, preferably close to a square or park. Also very close to shops and the tube with car-parking not too difficult. I'd like a front garden and a really large back garden not too over- looked. I should like a ground floor flat - I like single-level living especially with a child. It should have a very large living room with a high ceiling and a dining/kitchen although ifit's really huge enough I'd like a single living/dining/kitchen space with direct access to the garden. Then there'd be a good sized bedroom for me and the same for Ellie plus a study and a spare bedroom. Lots ofbuilt in storage. And central heating is essential. I think with young kids it's good to have one really large room with a floor that can be mopped and cleaned, with space for them to run up and-down or ride their tricycles or little cars, where they can play with water, paints or play dough and leave out some of their toys. Also the traditional disposition of bedrooms makes sense with your children. However when they get older and more independent, the ability for the parents to have some privacy from the kids and vice versa is important. Though I'd never previously missed having a garden, I now feel it's very useful with young children- space for running, shouting, bicy- cles; being able to wheel tiny babies outside to sleep in the fresh air; and ofcourse the introduction to bugs, plants and flowers. · House and home 133 Making Space Does this suggest that the ideal is a suburban semi-detached house with the happy nuclear family getting on with its own affairs? These middle-class professional women living in London are natur- ally aware of lack of green space, but implicit in the way each of us had chosen to organize our lives and our childcare was a need to step outside the traditional pattern of mother at home with children while father goes out to work - a tradition now no longer the norm. All of us are aware of isolation and loneliness and how they are affected by arrangement of space within a house and to the location of the house itself: My ideal is next door houses. with neighbours who are friends, with kids, and through doors in the living rooms and a shared garden. And I would like my parents and sisters to be at walking distance, or even a short driving distance away. I think with young children it's almost impossible not to feel immobi- lized and isolated in the home. Fortunately a few friends live near enough so that I could ask them to pop in for a cup oftea or a very simple supper- I kept thinking how nice it'd be to have a really huge house ..vith lots offriends. In fact, though, I think everyone needs privacy too and especially now I have young children I wouldn't like to live in a totally commu- nal house. I need the opportunity and the space to be private both with the kids and with Mike. So my ideal would be a grouping of fairly private houses and flats ofdifferent sizes I for people with and without children! with several communal facilities: a common kitchen and dining room, a library. possibly some studies and studios, a nursery. a laundry- where the communal kitchen and nursery would each be run professionally. The whole thing would be quite big, say about 30 adults. The problem is the whole situation would require a lot ofsur- plus money first to finance the capital cost of building the individual homes plus the communal bits and then to finance the running ofthe communal serr•ices. Postscript Two parallel strands emerged. Firstly, there are real factors in the size and relationship of room~:; in a dwelling that can make life with a young child more or less relaxed, more or less easy, at the emotion- ally taxing period when a new mother might be trying to convince 134 herself that she is adequate. Secondly, these physical constraints are overridden by less tangible but more fundamental issues. I felt upset after hearing about your really pleasant Saturday shop- ping expeditions en famille and I realized that what upset me is not that I can't shop in the same way because of managing with a young child on my own, but that I am on my own and don't have someone to go shopping with. I have a strange disembodied feeling being on maternity leave as if I've no business round here. I bump into neighbours in the street and that's nice but it's a bit artificial as I know I'll soon be back at work and away from this neighbourhood for a whole day. This separation between home and work goes much deeper than the physical distance between the two domains: I'm pleased to be back at work. I miss the children and I get exhausted but I'm glad to be doing my own thing again. And I mean just that: doing my own thing, being myself This society does not properly cater for the needs of women with small children. The lack of provision for babies and toddlers in shop- ping centres, restaurants, art galleries, theatres and pubs shows the physical aspect of this problem. The lack of tolerance of babies and toddlers in these public places is another dimension of the problem, and this other dimension caused this group of women to discover dif- ficulties and emotions within us, attitudes that surprised us. It may be that the nuclear family is the most 'economical' way for capitalist society to reproduce itself. And in a privatized society the suburban semi is probably the most 'efficient' solution for hous- ing the nuclear family, for its plan, the relationship to the garden and access by car, and for a reasonable feeling of spaciousness. But leaving aside the costs of this form of housing, it does not fulfil the needs of the woman - the mother, lonely and hampered in getting about - to develop her own interests. Modern Britain pays lip ser- vice to the importance of mothering but does not cherish its mothers. It is only when the activities of bringing up children and run- ning the home become socialized that the fundamental problems of loneliness and alienation, which often accompany responsibility for young children, will begin to be overcome. Although realignment of rooms in a house might improve life for mothers with young chil- House and home 135 Making Space dren, it is often hard to disentangle the problem of use of space in a house from that of attitudes of the household towards children. These attitudes may need to be reassessed. Similarly, the attitude of one family to another may need to be radically changed. In the meantime designers, administrators and builders can merely ameli- orate many of the physical difficulties by the thoughtful and sensi- tive production of safe houses. 136 Notes and references 1. Introduction 1. A survey carried out in 1978 showed that 5.2 per cent of architects in the United Kingdom were women. See Michael P. Fogarty, Isobel Alien and Patricia Waiters, Women in Top Jobs 1968-1979, London: Heinemann Edu- cational Books 1981, p.223. 2. Office of Population Censuses and Surveys, General Household Survey 1980, London: HMSO 1982. 3. A good summary of these debates is given by Eva Kaluzynska in Femi- nist Review, no. 6, 1980, pp.27-54. 4. MoralismandtheModelHome:DomesticArchitectureandCulturalCon- flict in Chicago 1873-1913, Chicago: University of Chicago Press 1980. 5. Signs, supplement 5, no. 3, Chicago: Spring 1981. H. Austerberry and S. Watson, Women on the Margins, London: City University 1983. Also see generally: Dolores Hayden, The Grand Domestic Revolution: A History of Feminist Designs for American Homes, Neighbourhoods and Cities, Cam- bridge, Massachusetts and London: MIT Press 1981; Leonore Davidoff, 'The separation ofhome and work?' inS. Burman (ed.l, Fit Work for Women, Lon- don: Croom Helm 1979; and Sue Francis and Frances Bradshaw, 'A woman's place', Slate, no. 13, July 1979. 2. Women, architects and feminism 1. Michael P. Fogarty, Isobel Alien and Patricia Waiters, Women in Top Jobs 1968-1979, London: Heinemann Educational Books 1981, p.223. 2. Mike Koudra, 'Architects' earnings in 1976: how do you compare'?'. Architects' Journal, vol.165, 6 April1977, pp.635-6; and Central Statistical Office, Social Trends No. 11, London: HMSO 1981, table 6.4, p.87. 3. Frank Jenkins, Architect and Patron, London: Oxford University Press 1961, p.87. 137 Making Space 4. The research is reported fully in Jane Darke, The Design ofPublic Hous- ing: Architects' Intentions and Users' Reactions, PhD dissertation, Univer- sity of Sheffield 1983. Residents of the schemes were also interviewed. The interviews took place in 1975 and 1976. 5. Rhona and Robert Rapoport, Dual Career Families, Harmondsworth: Penguin 1971. 8. Architectural Design, vol. XLV no.8, August 1975. 7. Margherita Rendel, 'Ideological measures and the subjugation of women', International Journal of Political Education, vo1.5, 1982, pp.105--20. 8. Susana Torre led. I, Women in American Architecture, New York: Whit- ney Library of Design 1977. 9. RIBA Journal, vol.VI, 189~99, pp.77-8. 10. Sheila Rowbotham, Hidden from History, 3rd edition, London: Pluto Press 1977. 11. Information from file on Elizabeth Scott in RIBA Library, Reports on the Stratford competition in RIBA Journal, vol.XXXV, 14 January 1928, p.145; The Builder, vol.CXXXIV, 6 January 1928, p.7; The Times, 6 Janu- ary 1928, p.8. 12. The main source of information on Jane Drew is an unpublished talk she gave during the Schools of Architecture Council Festival at Hull School of Architecture in 1980. The RIBA Library card index refers to several articlesaboutbuildingsdesignedbyDrew. · 13. Report on the Social Insurance and Allied Services, IBeveridge Reportl, London: HMSO 1942, p.49. 14. Michael Fogarty and others, op.cit. 15. Ibid. p.226. 18. Ibid. p.229. 17. Ibid. pp.236-9. 18. For an account of one co-operative see Liz Jones, 'Co-operative archi- tects', Architects' Journal, vo1.177, 16 February 1982, pp.42-5. 3. Homes fit for heroines: housing in the twenties I. North West Labour History Society, Women and the Labour Movement, bullt•lin 7. published in association with Manchester Women's History Group. Manchester: Manchester Free Press 1981; J. Liddington and J. Nor- rill, Om• Ha11d Tit!d Behind Us, London: Virago 1978; C. Rowan, 'Women in the h&bour party 1906-1920', Feminist Review, no.12, 1982, pp.74--91. 2. Women'!! Housing Sub-Committee, Ministry of Reconstruction, Interim Report, cmd 9166. London: HMSO 1918; Women's Housing Sub-Committee, Ministry of Reconstruction, Final Report, cmd 9232, London: HMSO 1919. 3. M. Swenarton, Homes Fit for Heroes: The Politics and Architecture of 138 Early State Housing in Britain, London: Heinemann Educational Books 1981. 4. Margaret I. Cole (ed.), Beatrice Webb's Diaries 1912-24, London: Long- man Green 1952, p.136. 5. Women's Co-operative Guild, Maternity: Letters from Working Women, London: G. Bell 1915, republished Virago 1978; M. Pember-Reeves, Round About a Pound a Week, London: G. Bell 1913, republished Virago 1979; Women's Labour League, The Working Women's House: Women's Chief Task is to Make A Home, London: Women's Labour League 1918. 6. Public Records Office (PRO), RECO 11470 and RECO 11474. 7. Women's Labour League, op. cit. 8. J. Burnett, A Social History of Housing 1815-1970, Newton Abbott: David and Charles 1978. 9. Local Government Board, Report ofthe Housing (Building Construction) Committee, (Tudor Waiters Report) cmd 9191, 1918. 10. PRO, RECO 11631. 11. PRO, RECO 11624, The Local Government Board Observations on The Interim Report ofthe Women's Sub-Committee, 27 August 1918. 12. PRO, RECO 11634, quoted in Women's Housing Sub-Committee Points for Discussion at Meetings. 13. Women's Housing Sub-Committee, Final Report, op.cit. 14. PRO, RECO 11631. 4. Women and public space 1. Linda McDowell, 'City and home: urban housing and the sexual division of space', in Mary Evans and Clare Ungerson (eds), Sexual Divisions: Pat- terns and Processes, London and New York: Tavistock Publications 1983, pp.142-3. 2. Sue Francis, New Woman New Space: Towards a Feminist Critique of Building Design, unpublished MA thesis, Department of General Studies, Royal College of Art May 1980. 3. Andrew Friend and Andy Metcalf, Slump City: The Politics of Mass Unemployment, London: Pluto Press 1981, p.57. Friend and Metcalf also show that the decentralization of workplaces was partly generated by employers' desires to locate near sources of female labour who could not otherwise 'reach' places of paid employment, pp.107-8. 4. Betty Friedan, The Feminine Mystique, London: Penguin 1963. 5. The authors continue: 'For the housewife (the home) is her place of work but she does not go elsewhere for leisure. So in her life there is no rigid work/leisure distinction either in physical location or in time'; Jean Gar- diner, Susan Himmelweit and Maureen Mackintosh, 'Women's domestic labour' (1976) in Ellen Malos (ed.), The Politics ofHousework, London and New York: Allison & Busby 1980, pp.205-6. Notes and references 139 Making Space 6. Figures from: Social and Community Planning Research together with Milton Keynes Development Corporation, Four Years On: Milton Keynes Household Survey 1973, Milton Keynes Development Corporation, March 1974, p.48. 7. Linda McDowell, op.cit. p.150. 8. Greater London Council Department of Architecture and Civic Design, An Introduction to Housing Layout: a GLC study, London and New York: Architectural Press 1978. 9. Margery Spring Rice, Working Class Wives <1939), London: Virago 1981. 10. Leonore DavidofT, Jean L'Esperance and Howard Newby, 'Landscape with figures: home and community in English society', in Juliet Mitchell and Ann Oakley (edsl, The Rights and Wrongs ofWomen, Harmondsworth; Penguin 1976, pp.145-6. 11. Alison Ravetz, Model Estate, London: Croom Helm 1974. 12. The monotony of many early council housing schemes was caused partly by the way the exterior environment, up to the 1950s, was often only considered to the extent that it improved the interiors of home. The improvement in housing standards since the earliest legislation in the 1880s has focused particularly on the insides of houses - on reduced over- crowding, on the separation of relatives from non-relatives, on a shift to total servicing and consumption within individual family units, whether it be non-shared bathrooms and toilets to washing machines and leisure facili- ties such as television and video with the· associated privatization of the family and an emphasis on the comfort of interior spaces. The first housing legislation concerned itself with providing better ventilation and daylight- ing to the interiors of housing by regulating the widths of streets and the open spaces between them. Whilst by the turn of the century an interest in a 'rural' setting was already developing, low density, sunlight and ventilation were to remain a priority - always using the immediate surroundings to improve the quality ofthe environment within the home itself. 13. Thanks to Bill Hillier. Julienne Hanson and John Peponis at the Unit for Architectural Studies, Bartlett School of Architecture, University Col- lege, London, for help, advice and many many arguments on housing lay- out. See, for instance, on the architectural concept of defensible space: Bill Hillier, 'In defence of space', RIBA Journal, vo1.80, no.8, August 1973. 14. Cynthia Cockburn, Brothers: Male Dominance and Technological Chanl(e, London: Pluto Press 1983, pp.184-90. 15. Carol and Barry Smart, Women, Sexuality and Social Control, London: Routledge and Kegan Paul 1978. 5. H o u • designs and women's roles 1. Robert Kerr, The Gentleman's House, London: Murray 1871, reprinted New York: Johnson 1972, p.67. 140 2. Ibid. p.143. 3. John Burnett, The Social History of Housing, 1815-1970, Newton Abbott: David and Charles, p.270. 4. Raphael Samuel, New Socialist, May-June 1983, p.29. 5. Sir Charles Harold Bellman, The Building Society Movement, London: Methuen 1927. ' 6. Ministry of Health, Design ofDwellings, London: HMSO, p.44. 7. The Builder, 15 September 1944. 8. Ministry of Housing and Local Government, Homes for Today and Tomorrow, <Parker-Morris Report), London: HMSO 1961, para.33. 6. Housing the modem family 1. DOE, Housing the Family, Lancaster: MTP Construction 1974. 2. Ministry of Housing and Local Government, Homes for Today and Tomorrow, (Parker-Morris Report), London: HMSO 1961. 3. DOE, Space in the Home, Design Bulletin No.6, Metric Edition, London: HMSO 1963, (5th impression 1975). 4. Housing the Family, op.cit. abstract. 5. Ibid. 6. Ann Oakley, Housewife, Harmondsworth: Penguin 1977. 7. Housing the Family, op.cit. p.54. 8. Ibid. p.55. 8. Private kitchens. public cooking 1. Jane Drew, 'The kitchen of the future, Women's Illustrated, 5 February 1944. 2. Anon., 'Hopes and fears for the kitchen', The Buildei·, 2 February 1945. 3. Ann Oakley, Housewife, Harmondsworth: Penguin 1976, p.7. 4. Raynes Minns, Bombers and Mash, London: Virago 1980. A woman's chronology of the war. 5. Elizabeth Wilson, Women and the Welfare State, London: Tavistock 1977, p.134. 6. Jane Lewis, The Politics of Motherhood, London: Croom Helm 1980, pp.181-4. 7. Angus Calder, The People's War, London: Jonathan Cape 1969, p.384. 8. R.J. Hammond, Food, vol.2, London: HMSO and Longman Green 1956. 9. Ibid. p.384, quoted in footnote. 10. Ministry of Food, How Britain Was Fed in War Time, London: HMSO 1946. 11. Mass Observation archive, unsorted food catalogue. 12. Ibid. Notes and references 141 Making Space 13. R.J. Hammond, op.cit. p.397. 14. Public Records Office <PRO! MAF 99 1743, Memorandum from Har- wood to Chrimes, May 1942. 15. R.J. Hammond, op.cit. p.398. 16. National Council for Social Services <NCSS), British Restaurants: An Enquiry Made by the National Council for Social Services, Oxford Univer- sity Press 1946, p.27. 17. Mass Observation archive, op.cit. 18. NCSS, op.cit. p.35. 19. New Chronicle, 5 January 1944. 20. MassObservationarchive,op.cit. 21. Conservative Women's Reform Group, When Peace Comes, London: Staples and Staples 1944. 22. Anon., Our Towns: A Close Up, London: Oxford University Press 1943. 23. NCSS, op.cit. p.19. 24. W.E. Williams, 'When the lights go on' in Army Bureau of Current Affairs, Current Affairs, no.48, 31 July 1943, p.14. 25. House of Commons, Parliamentary Debates, vol.43, c.1987, 1946-7. 26. R.J. Hammond, op.cit. p.412. 26. Personal communication from the Director, Sheffield City Libraries, to the author. 28. Elizabeth Wilson, Onl.v Halfway to Paradise: Women in Post-War Britain 1945-1968, London: Tavistock 1980, pp.25-6. 29. Hilary Land, 'Who cares for the family?'. Journal ofSocial Policy, vol.7, no.3, 1978, pp.257-84. 30. Ann Oakley, op.cit. p.7. 31. Elizabeth Wilson, Only Halfway to Paradise, op.cit. pp.21-2. 32. Ann Oakley, The Sociology ofHousework, London: Martin Robertson 1974, p.42. 142 Further Reading Books Shirley Ardener (ed.l, Defining Females: The Nature of Women in Society, London: Croom Helm in association with the Oxford University Women's Studies Committee 1978. Shirley Ardener (ed.l, Women and Space, London: Croom Helm 1982. Helen Austerberry and Sophie Watson, Women on the Margins: A Study of Single Women's Housing Problems, London: City University 1983. M.W. Barley, The House and Home: A Review of900 Years ofHouse Plan- ning and Furnishing in Britain, London: Studio Vista 1963. Marion Brion and Anthea Tinker, Women in Housing, London: Housing Centre Trust 1980. John Burnett, A Social History of Housing 1815-1970, Newton Abbott: David and Charles 1978. Marshal! Coleman, Continuous Excursions: Politics and Personal Life, Lon- don: Pluto Press 1982. Leonore Davidoff, 'The separation of home and work?' in S. Burman (ed. ), Fit Work for Women, London: Croom Helm 1979. Leonore Davidoff and Catherine Hall, 'The architecture of public and pri- vate life', in A. Sutcliff and D. Frase (edsl, Towards a Pursuit of Urban History, London: Edward Arnold 1982. Leonore Davidoff, Jean L'Esperance and Howard Newby, 'Landscape with figures: home and community in English society', in J. Mitchell and A. Oakley (edsl, The Rights and Wrongs of Women, Harmondsworth: Pen- guin 1976. Michael P. Fogarty, Isobel Alien and Patricia Waiters, Women in Top Jobs 1968-1979, London: Heinemann Educational Books 1981. Catherine Hall, 'The history ofthe housewife', in E. Malos (ed.l, The Politics 143 Making Space ofHousework, London: Allison & Busby 1980, pp.44-71. Dolores Hayden, The Grand Domestic Revolution: A History of Feminist Designs for American Houses, Neighborhoods and Cities, Cambridge, Massachusetts and London: MIT Press 1981. Frank Jenkins, Architect and Patron, London: Oxford University Press 1961. L. McDowell, 'City and home: urban housing and the sexual division of space', in M. Evans and C. Ungerson (eds), Sexual Divisions: Patterns and Processes, London: Tavistock 1983. Rhona and Robert Rapoport, Dual Career Families, Harmondsworth: Pen- guin Books 1971. Alison Ravetz, Remaking Cities: Contradictions of. the Recent Urban Environment, London: Croom Helm 1980. Alison Ravetz, Model Estate: Planned Housing at Quarry Hill, Leeds, Lon- don: Croom Helm for theJoseph Rowntree Memorial Trust 1974. Susana Torre !ed.l, Women in American Architecture, New York: Whitney Library of Design 1977. Gwendolyn Wright, Moralism and the Model Home: Domestic Architecture and Cultural Conflict in Chicago 1973-1913, Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press 1980. Periodicals Architectural Design, Special Issue on Women and Architecture, vol.XLV, no.8, August 1975. S. Francis and F. Bradshaw, 'A woman's place', Slate, no.13, July 1979. Dolores Hayden, 'Collectivising the domestic workplace', Lotus, no.12, Sep- tember 1976, pp.72-89. Liz Jones, 'Cooperative architects', Architects Journal, vol.177, 16 February 1982, pp.42-5. JenniferJones, 'A woman's place', Wedge, no.1, 1977, p.47. Bonnie Lloyde, 'Woman's place, man's place,' Landscape, vol.20, no.1, October 1975, pp.10-13. Gail Malmgreen, Neither Bread Nor Roses: Utopian Feminists and the Eng- lish Working Class,1800-1850, Brighton: John L. Noyce 2nd Pr. 1978. L. Pearson, 'Ideal homes', Spare Rib, no.134, September 1983. Margherita Rendel, 'Ideological measures and the subjugation of women', International Journal ofPolitical Education, vo1.5, 1982, pp.105-20. Signs, the Journal of Women in Culture and Society, Special Issue: 'Women 144 and the American city', University of Chicago Press Supplement, vol.5 no.3, Spring 1980. Gwendolyn Wright, ' "Sweet and clean": the domestic landscape in the pro- gressive era', Landscape, vol.20, no.1, October 1975, p.38. Unpublished theses Jane Darke, The Design ofPublic Housing: Architects'Intentions and Users' Reaction, PhD dissertation, University ofSheffeld 1983. Sue Francis, New Women New Space: Towards a Feminist Critique of Building Design, MA thesis, the Department of General Studies, the Royal College of Art May 1980. Barbara McFarlane, The Houses Women Want: An Examination ofthe Work ofthe Women's Housing Sub-Committee in the Ministry ofReconstruction, 1918, Dip.Arch. thesis, Polytechnic ofCentral London 1982. Anne Thorne, Women's Creativity: Architectural Space and Literature, Dip.Arch. thesis, Polytechnic of Central London 1979. Further Reading 145 Index Addiaon, Chriatopher, 28 advertiainl(, 81. 106. 107 Anderaon, E.G.• 19 an:hitects: attitude& of, 12, 13-15; buildera and, vii. 101. 102-5: elaaa and,l3, 16, 102: clients and, 102-5; criticiama of,l>-6: dominant JII"OUp, 2. 11, 13: future poaaibilitiea. 24-5: male predominance, 2, 11. 13: profeaaionalaJ(II"IIIldizement, 102-3; role of, 100-2; skills. 101-2, 104; sLatua, 12; Lraini111. ll,IZ-13, 21; uaeraand, vii, 3,ll, 12. 13, 14,24: women as, B. 11, 16-18, 19-23.26, 89-106; workinl(-claaa, 11. 15; ue a/10 (ollowi"'l entry childcare, 9, 41, 47, 49, 54, 72, 79, 90,120, 122-3 SH at.o (oi/Dwi"'l entry children, houaee and, 64, 66, 120, 120-36 AH also preuiDus entry Churchill, Winaton S., 109 Civic ReaLaurants Bill and Act, 116, 116 clients,10Z-6SHalsoarchiLecta, uaenand Conservative Women'a Refonn Group, 114 conaumer durablea, 72, 74, 87, 13G-1AH al8o houaekeepiq, mechanisation of conLal!ioua diaeaaea, 62, 63 cooking, 106, 107 cooka, 106-7, ll2 c:o-operativee, architectural, 24 an:hitecture: deLenninism.IO; feminiam and, 6.B-10.16,24-5,28,34.63.89.~:aocial ll7 chanp and. 37; aocial realities and. 38; see alao pi"Puious tnlry Anny Bureau ofCurrent Affaira, 114-15 babiee. 1 2 2 - 3 - a/10 childcare Balham Food and Book Cooperative, 97. 98, 104 Barton, Eleanor. 27-a baLhrooma. 31. 72, 86 bedrooma, 63, 78 Beveridl(e Repart, 21 'bill ofquantitiea', 100 Blake. Sophia Jea, 19 Branford. Sybella, 28 Britiah ReaLaurants, I08-19 bubble di&l(rama, 97 buildera: architects and, vii. 101. IOZ-6 buildinK industry: architects, buildera, clients. relationahipa between, IOZ-6 buildinK rei(Uiations. 3 buildinl(l: acceaaibility, 11: ideolol(iea behind. 12; aocial needa and. 6, 6; women'slivea, effects on, ll-12 see a/ao environment, women and: •ee alsu architects, houain11 BumeLL. John. 67 care, 39, 40,41 Charlea. Beaaie Ada, 19 Charlea. Ethel Mary. 19 148 council houain11. 13-16, 28. 63, 74-a, 78, 79, Crowfey,J. Hunt,ll3 Dalaton Children's Centre, 94-6, 98-9, 104 Darli111. Sir William, ll6, 16 Davidoff, Lenora, 7 decision-maki..,,pnder difference, 103 design, feminist approach to, viii, ~ deeign guides, 78, 81-a dini111 rooms, 74, 76. 78, 68 divisionoflabourbypnder,4, liSseeat.o women, aLereotypes of domeaticity, ideology of, 1 domeatic servants, 65, 66, 60, 64, 66, 72, 79 drawingaue plans Drew,Jane, 20,21,107 Dudley, CommitLee, 74,76 electrical equipment, 72, 87, 13G-l Electricians' Trade Union, 113-14 Elephant and Castle ResLaurant, 110 Emmott, Gertrude, 27 employment, 1; women's, 38, 92, 108, 118 environment, women and, 12, 37-a4 factory canLeena, 109 family: houain11 and, SI-a; ideology of, 81-a. 117, 118 u e also (ollowi"'l entrks and nuclear family family life: idealization of, 74, 75; privatization of, 55 'family wage', 37, 71 feminist movement see women's movement Feminist Design Collective, 89, 91 first world war, 36 Food, Ministry of, 109, Ill, 112,115 freezers, 130-1 fridges, 130 Friedan, Betty, 38 Fry, Maxwell, 20 garden city cottages, 69-71 gender roles, 26, 31, 36, 83, 85, 112. 114; environment and, 37-54 see also women, stereotypes of gentlemen's town houses, 64--6, 67, 72 George. David Lloyd see Lloyd George, David GLC (Greater London Council!, 44: Women's Committee. 24, 53--4 Great Exhibition !18511, 61,62 Greater London Council see GLC Greece, 64 Gretna Green, 29 Hall, Catherine 7 Hayden, Dolores, 7, 108. 117 high-rise flats, 5-6,47 home: 'ideal', 1; outside world, relationship with, 87; work, separation from, 1-2, 12. 39, 40, 44, 135; 'home cooking', 106; home ownership. 71, 72 Homes for Today and Tomorrow see Parker-Morris Report Homesgarth, 34, 35 'Home Truths' exhibition, viii, 89 house design, women's roles and, 55-80 households, 55, 56. 59, 79 housekeeping, co-operative, 34, 36 housework, 2, 7, 32, 34, 66, 69, 72, 85, 88, 121: attitudes to, 131-3; ideology of, 7, 38; mechanization of, 55--6, 72, 74, 79,87 see also consumer durables; men and 78, 108, 117; socializing aspects of, 117-18; time spenton,85,87, 107,117 housing: co-operative, 34, 35; in 1920s, 26--36; in 1960s and 1970s, 76-9; morals and. 61; state policies and, 118, 119 see also council housing; women consulted about, 27-36, 69, 92; working-class. 28, 29, 61, 63; see also preceding and following entries, architects, council housing housing estates, 29, 30, 44--52: rural settings, 44, 46, 47; see also council housing housing manuals, 44-52 housing societies, 61 Housing the Family, 78, 81, 82, 86,87 Howard, Ebenezer, 35 Introduction to Housing Layout, 44, 45, 48, 50 Kerr, Robert, 37, 63. 64, 65. 79 kitchens, 12, 31, 32. 56, 66, 69, 72, 74. 76. 78. 79, 80, 82, 85, 87,88,107.133 Labour Party, 113, 115 Lambeth Women's Workshop. 92-4. 99. 104 Land, Hilary, 117 Landes, A. Clapham, 35 LCC !London County Council!, I l l see also GLC Ledeboer, Judith, 74 Letchworth Garden City. 34 lighting, 71 living rooms, 31, 56, 78. 79,88 Lloyd George. David, 26-7 Local Government Board, Design Manual, 30-1,33 lodgers, 63 London County Council. Ill see also GLC lunch clubs. 116 McDowell, Linda. 37.40 malnutrition, 119 Mass Observation, 110.112 'materialist feminists'. 117-18 Matrix, vii-viii, 8, 89, 96. 98, 102. 104. 105 Meadoway Green, 34 meals on wheels. 116 Milton Keynes, 39-40 mobility, 39-44 model dwellings. 61-3.71 models (architectural I, 98-9 Modern Movement. 5. 20 National Council for Social Services, 112-13. 114 National Council of Women, 27 New Architecture Movement, vii New Earswick. York. 71 new towns, 47 nuclear family, 55, 71. 77. 78, 79, 81, 82. 85, 88,134 Oakley, Ann, 118 Parker, Barry, 69,70 Parker-Morris Report, 76-9, 82 parlours, 28, 29, 32, 69. 76, 78, 80 Peel, Dorothy, C., 28 Pitt Club, Cambridge, 110 planning restrictions, 3 plans, 96-8: reading, 56-9 poverty, 116, 119 Pre-War Practices Act, 36 privacy, 2, 61, 64, 79, 84 public housing see council housing public space, women and, 37-54 public transport, 40, 54 Quarry Hill estate, 47 Index 147 Making Space rape, 41.51-2 Ravetz, Aliaon, 47 Reconatruction, Miniatry or.27, 28,31 Reevea. Maud Pember, 29, 36 Rendel, Margherita. 18 rents, 32. 61 RIBA IRoyallnatituteofBritiah An:hitectsl, 19,23,30 Rice, Marpry Spring. 45 rickets, 119 Roberta, Henry, 62 1'00!118, poaition and meor.55, 56, 133 Rowbotham. Sheila, 20 Rowntree. Seebohm, 27 RowntreeCompany. 71 Samuel, Raphael. 72 achool dinners, 116 Scott. Eliubeth. 20, 21 aculleri811, 32, 63, 69 aemi-detached hoW1811, 66.71-3 aenrants 11ft dom811tic oenrants Sell Diacrimination Act, 106 Bell rol811 11ft gender rol811 Shafteebury. Lord, 61 Shak811peare Memorial Theatre. 20 aingle people, 76 Society ofWomen Property Managers, 28 Space in th~Hom~. 82-3.88 'apecillcation ofworka', 98. 100 Stackwell Health Centre.IIO-e. 97 Sweden,118 take-away food. 119 terrace hoW1811. ~ toilate.63 townhouaea. Victorian.~.67. 72 town planning. 38-11. 44. 53 trade uniona. 37 l.nlnaport. 39, 40. 41. 64 Tudor Waiters Committee, 28, 31-2, 71 tumble driers, 131 Unwin, Raymond, 28-S, 69, 70 ventilation, 71 Victorian town houaea, 63-6, 67, 72 violence, male, 6-7,41, 46, 49, 51,90 'viaualamenity', 49 waahiq macbinea, 130 water heating, 32, 34 weavers' cottapa, 5~1 Webb, Beatrice, 27 Well Hall eatete, 29 W -iuter,Marquiaof,64 Wilaon, Elillllbeth, 118 woman: mobility and,_39-44, 53; atereotypea of, 3, 16: cooking and, 106, 107-8: environment and, 37-64: home and, 2, 26, 61,64,69, 71, 78,81-8,118nea1Bogender rolea Women and Houaing Group, 7 'Women and Space' conference, vii Women's Aid, 6-7 Women'a Building Co-op, 105 women'• centrea, 90 Women's Cooperative Guild, 27, 28 Women'• Group on Public Welfare, 114 Women'• Houaing Sub-Committee, 26, 27, 28. 31-2~38,69 Womet1 a Labour League, 27. 28 women'amovement,3.5,6-8,11,17,18, 20. 24-5, 27, 90 11ft alao architecture, feminism and women's refugea, 90 Waolf, Vii'Jiinia, 84 Waotton, Lord, 109 Wright, Gwendolin, 7 WVS (Women'• Voluntary ServiceI, 108, 109 148 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource MATRIX https://nam.maydayrooms.org/files/original/7223918d48bb1eedf0b46513dc5c6817.pdf f4f2d73d3a80dda0399fa3de214bcda4 https://nam.maydayrooms.org/files/original/e6018730d4c19465ef98acc6a0586ce4.pdf fcd5b57d2d8bf7b1d629598abd637f65 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Trade Unions and Architecture Description An account of the resource Themes included action on asbestos and Health &amp; Safety, and involvement with Direct Labour Organisations and Building Unions. Following comparative research of possible options, NAM encouraged unionisation of building design staffs within the private sector, negotiating the establishment of a dedicated section within TASS. Though recruitment was modest the campaign identified many of the issues around terms of employment and industrial relations that underpin the processes of architectural production. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Architects code of employment Subject The topic of the resource Article in RIBA Journal Description An account of the resource = a 1% ai, Sree . fae ie t The architect's code of employment The guidance notes on the facing page are the heart of the code of employment which salaried members have been seeking from the RIBA through the work of its salaried architects’ working group. They will be supplemented in due course by a model contract of employment, which the Major advance for profession says Maurice McCarthy Salaried architects are as concerned as are principals with the standards of architecture. Delegates at the RIBA salaried architects’ congress in October 1972 clearly recognised that, if members wanted better status in the community, they had to prove that they were worthy of public esteem by the excellence of their work, and by their concern for the social consequences of their buildings. In order to practise effectively, itis usual for architects to form themselves into groups, often in large organisations or offices and involving an employer/employee relationship. In recent years, an increasing number of members have considered that conditions of employment in many organisations and offices were obstructing a professional approach, and that this was detrimental to architecture. It was their desire to prevent further erosion of the professional judgement and skill of architects, and to increase their professional responsibility, that motivated the preparation of these guidance notes. To acknowledge, as the notes do, the fact that the majority of architects are employed is a significant advance. Although it may seem incredible that it has taken so much time and effort to achieve, the RIBA is, as far as is known, the first institute to take ot 18| SAWG is now preparing. The added to the RIBA code of notes, which were approved by Council at its April meeting, are intended to help the interpretation of the two new clauses — on members’ duties to their clients and the public, and the mutual obligations of employee and employer architects — which were this step. On this, as on other issues, architectural bodies in other countries look to us for a lead. The guidance notes are equally applicable to the private and public sectors, and do not preclude the development of new forms of practice. They should bring the standards of the majority of organisations much nearer those of the best, to the mutual benefit of employers and employees. They are by no means radical proposals. For many, they will be useful mainly asa - check list of good practice. Like all that is totally new, they will disturb some for going too far, and will disappoint others for not going far enough. It is important to remember that the notes will be strengthened by a model contract of employment and supporting information on conditions of service appropriate to architects. The latter aspects of guidance, which Council has authorised the salaried architects’ working group to prepare, will be included in the Handbook of architectural practice and management, and will deal with the important issues of pensions and insurance. The practice notes on job titles and descriptions [March RIBAJ, p 55], on redundancy [April RIBAJ, pp 5-6], and on ‘Salaried partners’ [see pp 20-21] have now been published. Together, these measures go a long way toward implementing the Institute’s policy, described in the ‘action programme’ last year, of ‘providing effective support to members throughout their careers in all sectors of the profession, so that they can fulfil their professional aspirations and responsibilities’. There are, of course, questions that conduct last month (see April Journal pp 5—6), and they will be included in the next revision of the code. Below, Maurice McCarthy introduces the notes and describes their objectives, while lan Rawling argues that they should have been tougher remain to be tackled. Possibly the most urgent of these is agency labour. Others include the investigation of patterns of recruitment, the examination of the remuneration and career structure in each sector of the profession, and the determination of desirable organisation structures through the study of existing patterns of practice. Council is pledged to action on these issues, and preliminary results can be expected during the forthcoming session. The President is writing to the chief architects of all public offices and commercial organisations, the chief executives of those offices without a chief architect, and private practice principals, to encourage them to implement the guidance notes and the principles that lie behind them. When considering the notes, members should bear in mind that their conduct should be based on a concern to advance architecture and to enhance the reputation of the profession. Could have been much tougher says lan Rawling The mere fact that the April RIBA Council unanimously passed the new guidance notes on architect employer/ employee relations isanotable milestone in the Institute’s history. It is, however, a measure of the generally nervous reaction to the question of these relationships that ithas taken two years to get from the first report of the salaried architects’ working group to the present guidance notes, RIBAJ May 1974 Timber confidence with PROTIM PREVAC begins By specifying Protim Prevac you can meet the highest specifications in the pre-treatment of building timbers, and the standard of treatment can be verified by analysis. You can specify with confidence because the timber carries a certificate of treatment. You know that the timber is treated with Protim preservatives in a double vacuum/ pressure process to ensure proper penetration and permanent protection against fungal and insect attack. You have precise control over the treatment to suit any purpose. Water repellent can be included. You have no problems with grain-raising or distortion since the treatment is water-free. The treated timber is dry and clean to handle — and fully compatible with paints, glues and mastics. Is Protim Prevac readily available? Yes —-through over eighty leading processing companies throughout Britain. ae | A Fosroc eietieciree tureld Protim and Pratim Prevac are registered trade marks Please send me a copy of your booklet: Protim Prevac \ Double Vacuum Impregnation ofBuilding Timbers and list of Protim Prevac processors. Name Position RIBA/S5/74 | Protim Ltd., Fieldhouse Lane, Marlow, Bucks. SL71LS | Rey RIBAJ May 1974 A42 PROTIM LTD., Fieldhouse Lane, Marlow, Bucks. SL7 1LS Telephone:Marlow (STD Code 06284) 6644. Telex: 847057 Compeny [laude foritwasintheoriginalreportthatthe Theguidance tain and advance their competence by majority of points were raised. participating in continuing education. While saying this may seem a little hard on some past and present Council members who have been well aware of the problems of employee architects in their relations with those colleagues who are their employers, it has seemed to me that many Council members put far more emphasis on architects’ practices than on architectural practices, as applied to all members of the Institute. In the end, the notes do no more than restate in the main some of the already established policies of the Institute. It is a disappointing outcome to so much work and effort put in by both employer and employee members of the salaried architects’ working group. The main criticism that I heard in the branches of the original ‘code of employment’ [published in the August RIBAJ 1973], which was accepted and referred to branches with barely a murmur by Council in June 1973, was “So what ?’?Members considered itso innocuous as to be almost pointless, the requirements being so loosely drawn that all but the most outrageously unprofessional offices could claim to comply with them. 5 An employing architect should permit the architects he employs to engage in sparetime practice, but an architect should not do so without the knowledge of his employer, and should ensure that there can Imust admit tomy own faultinthis, inthatasamember oftheoriginal working group Ibelieved that itwas necessary not only to balance both sides, but to be seen plainly not to create a‘them and us’ situation. Ican only assume that this ‘balanced’ view was taken as a lack of conviction, because one result of the four month delay,resultingfromtheDecember1973 practiceorelectstostayinsalaried Council resolution to have the proposals vetted by an ‘ad hoc’ committee chaired by the President, was the removal of the one really constructive item in the code: the discouragement of agency labour. The acceptance of a professional ‘lump’ betrays the principle now incorporated in the code of conduct recognising professional obligations [see April RIBAJ, pp 5—6]. The problems of using footloose ‘lump’ labour on the site are well known to anyone who has had to condemn their work, and the dangers to architectural practices are well recognised by those insurance companies which either heavily load or refuse any indemnity insurance to firms using agency staff. The omission from the guidance notes of any discouragement of agency labour can only benefit those practices which accept more work than they have staff for — to the detriment of other practices and, of course, the membership in general. Of other items which members asked for in the notes, and which are inexplicably missing, the most obvious is the need for decent transferable pensions, which can form the basis for secure retirement whether one goes on to found one’s own employment. With the advent of compulsory national graduated retirement pensions, it is even more essential for staff not in private schemes that all practices should provide a pension scheme which can stay with the insured employee throughout his working life, certainly throughout private practice and, ideally, all types of practice. The ABS has gone some way toward providing such a scheme, but not far enough. Life insurance is another important area where strong guidance should have been given to members. It is the practice of all local authorities and, I believe, the majority of private practices to insure the life of members of staff while on office business. This should be a standard provision of all practices, for while the odds are fairly long on architects being killed on site, they are much shorter for road accidents; and since so many architects have to travel widely, life insurance is essential for staff. The benefit from such insurance should be three times the annual salary before tax at the time of death. A simple basic scheme like this would overcome the effects of inflation, which usually hits hardest those least able to cope with it. RIBAJ May 1974 notes... The term ‘employing architect’ used in these be no conflict of interest between his notes means the principal or partners in a private practice, the chief architect of a public authority, or the chief architect of any industrial or commercial organisation. Where the chief architect is not the employer in a Strict sense, he is asked to do all he can to ensure that the conditions of employment of the architects working with him do not depart from these principles. Non architect employers are asked, in the interests of good architecture, to ensure that the conditions of his responsibilities to his attention is drawn to the sparetime practice in the employment of any architects they employ 8 An architect who employs students do not depart from these principles. should cooperate with the RIBA and schools 1 An employing architect should define the of architecture in the practical training terms of employment,* authority, responsi- scheme; should provide as varied experi- bility, and liabilityt of the architects he ence as possible compatible with his pro- employs, having regard to the particular responsibilities of project architects. 2 An employing architect should ensure that the architects he employs are enabled to exercise their professional skills, and should provide them with opportunities to accept progressively greater delegated authority and responsibility in accordance with their ability and experience. fessional responsibilities; and should allow student employees to take reasonable time off for academic purposes leading to the qualifying examinations. >= Where an architect is unable to comply with the guidance given in this practice note, or where he has any doubt as to the intentions of an item, or where any problem arises, he should report the facts to the Institute. 3 The participation and responsibility of project architects should be appropriately recognised by the employing architect and supporting information on conditions—of credit given (for example, in any literature, service appropriate to architects, is being description, or illustration). 4 To benefit the competence of the whole + A separate practice note will deal with profession, an employing architect should the differing aspects of liability in the private and public sectors. Finally,Ibelievethat,inprinciple, architects’ salaries should be related to the cost of living, increasing whenever the latter crosses a 4 per cent threshold. This would overcome the hypocrisy of ‘merit’ rises which do not keep pace with prices, and enable them again to be a true measure of a firm’s appreciation of its staff. None of these items which I consider essential to the guidance notes is revolutionary: they are all a feature of good architect employer/employee agreements. It might be said that, since the notes are only ‘guidance’, their inclusion would have little effect on bad employers. This might be so, but at least staff would have a recognised scale against which to measure their own conditions. And surely it is not asking too much that the code of professional conduct, which governs relations between members and practices, should state what consideration members can expect from their fellow professionals in employer/employee relationships. Maurice McCarthy, who is in the GLC architect’s department, is the chairman of the salaried architects’ working group. Tar. Rawiling, formerly a member of the group, works in the Birmingham city architect’s department. enable the architects he employs to main- employment and client. [Members’ practice note on June RIBAJ 1963.] 6 An employing the architects he employs to enter archi- tectural competitions, but an architect should not do so without the knowledge of his employer. 7 Whenever possible, an employing archi- tect should enable the architects he employs to have reasonable time off to participatein the affairs of the profession. architect should permit * A model contract of employment, with prepared by the-salaried-architects?.2roup: ~ This practice note is issued with the approval of the RiBA Council. It follows a recom- mendation from the professional conduct committee arising from cases of professional misconduct heard and determined during 1973, where the ethical responsibilities of so staffcanbedescribedasassociateswhereit conductofthepracticeisnotamatterfor is made clear that they are not partners in bargaining. All member partners are fully any sense, the use of the designation responsible for the professional conduct of “associate partner’ of an employee, however called ‘salaried partners’ were in question the unintended consequence that the Moreover, a member would not be entitled esteemed or senior, must be avoided. Any use of the term ‘partner’ in reference to an ‘associate’ or other employee could lead to the practice, and it is incumbent on each of them to be careful to make and keep himself and his partners properly informed of partnership affairs. [September RiBaj 1973, p 434). It replaces employee in question would be liable for to be relieved of responsibility for pro- the practice notes on partnership in the the contracts and torts of the practice as if fessional misconduct in connection with the he were truly a partner (see further below). partnership business merely because his May, June, and July riBas 1966. It is important that members should take partners decided in a manner otherwise Summary: A member must not use the their own legal advice as to the details of term ‘partner’ in connection with his own partnership agreements. This practice note practice or the practice in which he is does not purport to state the law of partner- employed, unless there is a relationship of ship, or the law of taxation as it relates legally valid under the partnership agree- ment not to accept a proposal for preven- tion or remedy. Nor does the joint responsibility of the partners for the conduct of the practice as a whole diminish the responsibility of a member who is an employee for anything in which he himself has a part. Associates: It must be appreciated that serious and unintended consequences may result from the appointment of ‘associates’ ifcare isnot taken to make itclear that they are not intended to be partners in any sense. joint responsibility appropriate to partners in practice as architects. The term ‘salaried partner’ is not to be used (save where unavoidable for the purposes of income tax and the like). The joint responsibilities of architects in practice as partners are of two kinds: ethical, in respect of which no partner can disclaim or fail to exercise or deny to another the participation sufficient for full professional responsibility; and business, in respect of which unequal decision making arrangements can subsist between partners if they so agree. For the purpose of these two kinds of responsibility, partners must have access to financial and other information affecting the business and conduct of the practice. Legal position: The responsibilities and liabilities of a ‘salaried partner’ are not defined in law, and depend on the agree- ment made between the persons concerned. It was recently held in a legal action by an accountant for a share in the distribution of the partnership assets of a firm of account- to partnerships. Professional relationships: A person who does not participate in the conduct of a partnership, but who appears to others to be a partner, may be legally liable as a partner to those who have dealings with the firm; but the RIBA believes that professional practice demands more than mere legal liability. A member who is a partner is considered by the RIBA to have a responsibility to clients, and to the profession and to others who may be affected, for the manner in which names appear on letterheads, they are the affairs of the practice are conducted, and he must therefore participate in the affairs of the practice accordingly. This responsibility has two aspects, one ‘associates’. Many firms list associates at relating to business decisions and the other the foot rather than at the head of their to matters which affect the professional stationery, and this practice is commended. conduct of the practice. An unequal distribution of financial risk and profit by agreement between partners may be matched by an unequal share in determining the business decisions of their practice; but all partners in a member’s For associates, a mere exchange of letters between employer and employee, clearly setting out the terms of the appointment, is sufficient, and the intention of the parties is less likely to be misinterpreted. Unless care is taken, a person who intended ants [Stekel v Ellice, 1973] that it was practice must have adequate participation to accept the position of associate may necessary to look at the substance of the in the control of the partnership business. unwittingly find himself regarded as a relationship between the parties on the This includes sharing in decision making partner with the responsibilities which flow and having access to documents and to the from that. Though principals may be better banking accounts and other financial placed to see that this does not happen, facts of any case in question. In the June RIBAS 1966, it was stated that a salaried partner properly so called is presented to the public as a full partner, no distinction between salaried and other partners being drawn on letterheads or in the Register of business names, and that he bears the same liability toward the public as the other partners. The RIBA now considers that the expression ‘salaried partner’ is undesirable in connec- tion with an architect’s practice, and requires members not to use it of architects or of any partner or employee of a practice which includes the practice of architecture (save where unavoidable for the purposes of income tax and the like, though the partner- ship arrangements are otherwise in accord- ance with this note). It must also be pointed out that, though 20 information. there is an equal obligation on principals and employee associates to see that the details of their appointment represent the A so called ‘salaried partner’ excluded from such participation is effectively no more than an employee of the firm, and the responsibilities and duties of the post. relationship of the sole principal or of the true partners with him would be that of employer and employee. His name must therefore not appear on the firm’s letter- heading or otherwise as if he were a partner of any kind. The r1BaA’s view does not disallow arrange- ments whereby a partner is remunerated solely by fixed and regular payment, whether or not called a salary, if so agreed within the partnership, whether for a pro- bationary period or otherwise. Ethical responsibility:A member’s responsi- bility as a partner for the professional Professional misconduct: It would be derog- atory to the professional character of a member, and inconsistent with his member- ship of the RBA, if in his practice or employment he were to hold out or use the name of another person, or hold himself out or allow himself to be held out, or use his name or allow his name to be used, in letterheading or otherwise, as a partner where the elements of true partnership indicated above were absent. It would, moreover, be inconsistent with membership oftheRIBAifamember entered into a partnership agreement under which RIBAJ May 1974 Care must be taken that, when associates’ clearly separated from those of the full partners, and that their name or names are clearly prefaced by the word ‘associate’ or s _PRACTICE NOTE: partners, ‘salaried partners’, and ‘associates’ member specialising in a subject, will automatically produce a greater number of well informed spokesmen to represent the views of Council. It could well make Council’s work far more interesting for a greater number of members. So far as I can see, the organisation now suggested should not involve any undue increase in administrative expenditure, but Ihave asked the Honorary Treasurer to investigate the matter. It has already been made clear that, if inflation continues at the present level, more money will eventually be needed. An undertaking has been given that subscriptions will not be raised until 1975: it must be honoured. In the normal course of events, in order to raise subscriptions in 1975, Council would not start the statutory process until March 1974. I propose to ask the Honorary Treasurer and the Finance Committee to start this process as soon as possible, on the clear understanding that, ifinflation ishalted or substantially reduced and the increases prove unnecessary, then they will not be brought into effect. I have given thought to the staff arrangements necessary to deal with the reorganisation: some changes will be necessary, and these will be finalised by the October Council. I am satisfied that they will give us not only a greater degree of flexibility, but also a more acceptable arrangement for general administration. If at the end of the two years we are able to show that we have achieved our five objectives, then we will have real hope of gaining the active support of the silent majority of members, and the Institute should benefit to the full from the foundations so ably laid by my predecessor. Should Council wish to approve these proposals, it will be necessary to pass the following resolutions : 1 To approve the general arrangements described here. 2 To establish the following boards with the number of Council members and coopted members as shown below. Policy Board: total members 13, Council members 13. Finance & House Board: total members 6, Council members 6. Membership Board: total members 12, Council members 7, coopted members 5. Library Board: total members 8, Council members 4,coopted members 4. Education Board: total members 22, Council members 14, coopted members 8. Public Affairs Board: total members 12, Council members 9, coopted members 3. European Affairs Board: total members 7, Council members 4, coopted members 3. International Relations Board: total members 7,Council members 4, coopted members 3. Practice Board: total members 16, Council members 12, coopted members 4. Professional Conduct Board: total members 7,Council members 4,coopted members 3 (past members of Council only). An appendix to the paper suggested initial appointments to the various boards and their groups for the 1973-74 session. Council approved, with one or two revisions. The names have been omitted here for reasons of space, but they will appear in the September RIBAS. Draft code of employment Council paper This code of employment is an interim proposal from the salaried architects working group, which was asked by Council last December to prepare a draft that could be used as the basis for future work. The group hopes that its publication will attract the widest possible debate before December, when it reports back to Council. The Council debate is reported on p 369 The object of the code is to promote the highest ethical standards concerning employment for the mutual benefit of both the employer and the employee by defining their mutual obligations and responsibilities. Principles An employer and employee have mutual obligations and responsibilities toward each other. An employer should have due regard to the capabilities and professional development, status, and responsibilities of architects, together with their terms of service and working conditions. An architect shall have due regard to the professional interests of his employer and their joint responsibilities to their clients, fellow professionals, and the public. 7 An architect who receives continuing education at the expense of his employer should consider his moral responsibility to apply the knowledge gained to the benefit of the employer. 8 An employer should provide architects with professionally suitable conditions of service, and reward them fairly. 390 RIBAJ August 1973 1 An architect should uphold the principles in his relationship with his professional colleagues to whom he may delegate authority and responsibility, or 10 An architect should be employed from whom he may receive delegated authority and responsibility. 2Anemployer should ensure that architects are enabled to exercise their professional skills in all circumstances. 3 An employer should define the roles, authority, liabilities, and responsibilities of architects working for his firm or organisation. 4 An employer should provide opportunities for architects to progressively accept greater delegated authority and responsibility in accordance with their ability and experience. 5 An employer should enable architects to maintain and advance their competence by encouraging and supporting their continuing education. 6 An architect should ensure that he maintains and endeavours to advance his competence by encouraging a continuing education for himself and others. directly by those from whom he may receive delegated authority and responsibility, and not by an agency. 9 An employer should employ architects directly, and not from an agency. 11 An employer should permit an architect to enter architectural competitions or engage in spare time practice. 12 An architect should not enter architectural competitions or engage in spare time practice without the knowledge of his employer. 13 An architect should consider his moral responsibilities to his current employer as well as his legal responsibility under his contract of employment when contemplating change of employment. 14 An architect should be encouraged to participate in professional activities. 15 An employer should ensure that credit is given in any literature, description, or illustration of a building, in so far as it is possible, to the architect or architects responsible for it. <-> formula — usually so that a nice, neat, rectangular shape is obtained. During this process, the site will probably not even be visited. Often this method leads to long and costly delays in public inquiries and compulsory acquisitionof properties. Naturally, itisalways the underprivileged in the community who suffer: commercial properties, even when they are almost derelict, are usually rejected as alternatives to houses,sincecommercialinterests are always more powerful. Design information Standardisation can greatly benefit building design when it is used sensibly, but it must never be allowed to take command. Today, al architects accept a degree of standardisation: even the most ‘traditional’ building uses mostly industrialised products (eg, machine made bricks and tiles, timber sizes, window sections, ironmongery, and sanitary fittings), and the different ways ofputtingthesetogethercouldhardlybe termed ‘traditional’ in the prewar sense. No architect wants to design his own door furniture or metal window sections as he once did, yet few would term this a limitation on design freedom. The freedom that he must have, however, is freedom of choice among a wide range of products on the market. He must stil remain in control of the end result, and he must never feel that standardisation has taken over and is forcing him to compromise the best solution. performance criteria for each component or design element in the building. The results could be made available to every architect in the form of design manuals or standard drawings. Again, these exist in a crude form at the moment: they must, however, be seen to provide information of the highest quality and be constantly reviewed as new information becomes available. There is now, for example, much talk about ‘vandalism’ in school buildings. Hall was a hive of activity as senior officers tried to pacify local authority chief architects who were part of the consortium, and who wanted to know whether this meant that the GLC was withdrawing from Mace. The head of the ILEA was also asking awkward questions This ‘leak’ was for ever afterward used by management to try and destroy the idea of participation, and to indulge in filibustering and equivocation in subsequent meetings. It showed that disgruntled architects could not be ‘trusted’ to keep ‘domestic internal meetings’ to themselves: that they wouldn't in fact play the management game. But at that so called ‘domestic’ meeting, management had bluntly refused to discuss several important subjects which they termed ‘confidential’. So much for trust The schools division wanted to determine what was meant by ‘participation’ and to draft a constitution for management to consider. Each group elected a representative and held ‘grass Right/far right Existing and proposed ways of organising work: printed in Acid — the magazine published by the architecture club roots’ discussions. Meetings of group representatives then thrashed out an alternative departmental structure which incorporated a mild form of participation. Management meanwhile drew up its Own proposals It was clear that there was conflict about the meaning and extent of participation right from the start. Management saw it merely as consultation on matters that weren't fundamental to the work of the division. In their view, a small group of representatives would discuss items selected by Management and appoint working parties to carry out specific tasks. Management would be present and would have the power of veto on any subject it did not agree with. If divisional meetings were held, they would be outside office hours and no votes could be taken The architects in the division, on the other hand, wanted to play down the power of group representatives, because the existing system of group leaders’ meetings had demonstrably failed to pass on the criticisms and proposals of those on lower levels. They wanted asystem whereby representatives were elected by groups to carry forward the members’ requirements to a steering committee, whose sole function would be to form agenda for divisional meetings: it would itself have no executive power. The agenda would then be put to divisional meetings and voted on after debate Obviously, there were limits to the range of decisions that this sort of participatory structure could cope with, and they would be confined to divisional matters. Itwas necessary to establish what the limits were to decisions taken by divisional meetings: to distinguish where action could be taken directly as a result of voting, for example, and where voting merely made known the division’s feelings There was also disagreement within the division on how action might be implemented. Some felt that management's job was to manage and that the division should merely tell them its democratic views and expect them to act accordingly. Others felt that managerial functions should be shared among everyone, so that each architect would be involved and the division's talent exploited to the full: it would be too easy to sit back and let someone else ‘do Participation’ for you But there was unanimous agreement that the main task was to end the pernicious system whereby important policy decisions were made in secret, and to ensure better communication between everyone concerned Negotiations were still in progress when| left the GLC, but the job architects are at a grave disadvantage in that they have nothing to bargain with: they are really at the mercy of Management's good intentions. Roger Walters has recently made public statements to the effect that there isdemocratic Participation within the GLC architect's department, but there has been little evidence of RIBAJ August 1973 BANC K—— Edvcanced Jrecnitecr> goLicy. Decisions Joe aewiTETS Assitnuts Stuscnts earl WithinanorganisationliketheGLC,this Oneconstantlyhears(usuallyatthird process of putting together existing components and products and purpose designed elements could be greatly systematised and rationalised to give architects more time for design. Good information about preferred products and materials should be centralised so that the right choice can be made quickly. The mechanism for this already existsintheGLCintheformofthe materials section and scientific branch, but the quality of information is often poor, inappropriate, or unreliable. Design standards: There is also a need foradevelopmentgroupineach division which would establish hand) how children have wantonly destroyed this or that in a school. But is italways totally wilful, or isitperhaps caused by bad design? Any group of kids going through a door will kick it, swing on it, push their neighbour into it, and much more —it is natural for them to behave like this, and stupid to try to stop them. The effect on the door may betermed ‘vandalism’, butitisreally because it has not stood up to ‘normal’ use. A centralised development group could study such problems and evolve guides to design which would recommend, for example, the right construction, choice, Soteons nechitecr GROoRS STEERING EROuPS AND — WORKING PARTE MANAGEMENT GRouP DINISTONAD MEETING real change iN i +O3| 9000 0000 nd fixing of ironmongery, hinges, and nish. There might be several standard designs which incorporated these features but were different in their cost limits. Designers would be free either to design their own doors in accordance with the strict criteria established by the group, or to use oneof the standard designs. The standard drawing would show dimensions which had to be constant and those which could vary, and the same could be done for al aspectsof design, from coathooks to landscaping. only such information as they deem appropriate, or act as informers to management through the confidential report system. Direct election: One solution isto dispense with group leaders entirely. But in any group, a leader will emerge naturally: the most articulate or the strongest personality invariably acts as spokesman. It is also an advantage to have a recognised person who can take an overall view of the group’s work: in running a job, we often cannot see the wood for the trees. User feedback :Most of the knowledge for such standardisation of design criteria would come from ‘feedback’. At present, no systematic appraisal existsofschoolsinuse,andthereislittle instrumentalinappointingtheirown gathering of information about design and technical failures and successes. The vital information stored in the minds ofschoolkeepers, teachers, parents, and pupils about the planning and fabricoftheir buildings isuntapped. It is impossible to discover, for example, what type of opening light is most suitable for a specific kind of school in terms of operation, maintenance, safety, ventilation, or cleaning. The answer isthat partof each division’s development group should operate a continual Which?—type investigation into al aspects of existing designs, and feed the information to designers in the formof recommendations. General involvement: The dangerof any centralised development group is that it can become an elite, superior to the job architects it is supposed to serve. It can also attract the kind of people who are not interested in creative design solutions, just as MACE has done. These risks could be avoided by sharing the development work among the job architects, so that it was not confined to a special group. Of course, those involved would need to meet constantly, but contact with design would be ensured ifthe work was additional to their normal activities. leader — either by direct vote or by being Department structure organisation of effective demand The Matthew/ Martin group system has worked well and is generally liked, because each group represents a small unit within a vast organisation with which one can identify. But the groups are arbitrarily set up, and often exist more for the convenience of the group leader than because of their intrinsic worth. There seems to bea floating body of leaders who need groups to be attached to them, rather than the other way round. They are appointed by management, and though their function is not strictly managerial, they are seen to be part of that layer: there is a definite division between ‘governors’ and ‘governed’ at group leader level. Ideally, the function of leaders should be to liaise between management and groups, but this does not happen. The leaders are generally out of touch with their groups’ needs, and they reveal for buildings that society is apparently willing to afford’ Duccio Turin, writing in the Times last year represented on the body which decides such matters. And one thing isessential : a group leader must be involved in design if he is to keep in touch, for it is only by proving himself as a designer that he will earn the respect of his group. Team work: Ifthe group system has the advantage of providing identity, it has the equal disadvantageof isolation. There is an awful tendency in the GLC to compartmentalise, not only between departments but also within divisions. In contrast to private practice, Irarely felt that architects, consultants, quantity surveyors, and planners worked as a team, but rather as 403 RIBAJ August 1973 A group leader must, however, have the confidence and respect of his job architects. There is no reason why the members ofa group should not be ‘Almost independently, but this time at the initiative of manufacturers and contractors, new methods of production of increasingly large chunks of the building fabric have been introduced. Unfortunately, in most cases the economies of scale have proved to be at best insufficient, and at worst nonexistent. The transfer of operations from the site to the factory did not produce the expected saving in labour costs and often failed to offset the additional transport and capital costs. More important still, the large indivisible units of investment required for some of these technologies made them too dependent on a high level of utilisation of productive capacity, which proved incompatible with the degree of continuity and ‘ mes separate baronies guided by set rules and rigid formulas, each safeguarding its own territory and offloading as much work as possible onto job architects. There was not much cooperation or contact in the design stage, and no great willingness to discuss problems or try new solutions. These failures were caused not by the quality or personalities of the other members of the ‘team’, but rather by the system which encouraged separatism and departmentalism. Whatever ‘multi disciplinary teamwork’ means, the GLC has the opposite. The evidence can be seen in the finished buildings, where services are often considered inadequately, or not at all, or seem to be added as an afterthought. In most ILEA schools, the standard of artificial lighting layouts and heating systems (usually radiators) ismediocre. Ifmulti disciplinary grouping isagood thing, then the GLc, which employs everyone involved in building design, is ideally equipped to encourage this way of working. It might well provide new impetus to the group system: certainly, the work of firms like Ove Arup or Ryder & Yates testifies to its benefits. Management’s role: Ifpublic offices must have a management structure, then how can itbe improved, and prevented from becoming even more alienated and autonomous as authorities increase in size? In the first place, departments must be organised on the basisof real participation for al employees as described above. Management can no longer expect to make al the decisions which deeply affect the work and goals of professionals in their departments. If it is true that we are all, in the last analysis, professional architects united in our concern about quality, then how much greater weight would management’s arguments have ifthey were supported by a majorityof their fellow professionals. Second, in the event of building users and local communities winning an equal share in the power to decide the shapeof their own environments (and I think this is inevitable), the role of management will have to change drastically. People who are intimately concerned with their own buildings will not listen to the usual managerial hyperbole and equivocation. Lastly, there is a great need for management that iscreative, far sighted, and sensitive to the implications of changing social requirements. Of course, the organisationof the design and construction of large school building programmes is not easy: there are many problems related to costs, the state of the building industry, maintenance of standards, and changing educational needs. The heavy handed imposition of crude and soul destroying ‘solutions’ like MACE is the clearest example of how these problems should not be tackled. > More but smaller boards was the theme of a major reshaping of RIBA affairs proposed by the new President to this session’s first Council meeting. He asked Council to approve the setting up of ten ‘boards’ (some of them existing committees renamed), including three Like other professional bodies, the RIBA is at the crossroads. Not only do we live in times of rapid social change that demand new activities on our part, but we face the task of gaining the active support of the 70 per cent of our members who do not normally take part in our affairs, but who can suddenly redirect or halt the work of the Institute when they feel so disposed. new ones — Membership, European Affairs, and International Relations — and he nominated their members as well as choosing honour the undertaking that In a democratic body such as the RBA, theirsistherealpower,andgainingtheir suggestthatweshouldhavemorebut active support is the unsolved problem in the government of this Institute. My own View is that the majority of members do not want to be actively involved in the day to day running of our affairs. They expect Council to lead and to produce progressive policies that are generally acceptable to them. Iam convinced that ifwe are seen to be solving urgent problems of real importance to the membership, then we will have strong support from the great majority, including the willingness to pay increased subscriptions if necessary. Isuggest that we need to define what has to be done now, and then change our organisation to do it. In addition to our usual concerns, we could, in a two year programme, achieve the following five objectives. 1 Make clear to the public the background against which architecture has been practised in postwar years, and what is currently expected of it. 2 Establish a code of professional competence. 3 Retain and, where necessary, adjust mandatory fee scales and terms of engagement, and introduce a code of employment of salaried staff related to them. 4 Work to secure satisfactory terms for the entry of the profession into the Common Market. 5 Represent more forcibly the views of the profession in connection with all matters of the natural and built environment. To deal with these new problems RIBAJ August 1973 smaller boards. It seems to me that the whole of our activities, old and new, could be covered by ten boards, explained below. And the number of Council and coopted members for each board should vary with need, but where possible should be limited to seven. Every board should have a majority of elected members, and every group should, where possible, have a Council member on it. There is an exception in the case of the Education Board, where special circumstances exist, and itwould be prudent to retain the old board structure for at least another year. Where necessary, groups would be established from within the boards to undertake specialised work. Here is a brief description of the work of each board and group where it differs from what now exists. Public Affairs Board: No change at the moment, but the board should be asked to produce for the October Council proposals for the establishment of an environment group to represent the views of the profession at national level. Practice Board: Work to be reorganised and to include six groups with special responsibility for the following: building industry relations, legislation affecting the practice of architecture, salaried architects and their professional status and conditions of employment, fee scales and conditions of service with special reference to the Monopolies Commission, standards of competence and the possibilities of introducing a new code, and policy and administrative matters affecting the existing code, There would obviously be times when the work of a particular board would be of interest to a wider section of Council than the board’s own members. Where important matters of policy are to be discussed, agendas of board meetings should be published well in advance so that all members of Council can attend: the formal voting decisions should, however, be confined to elected members. There are also occasions when subjects for discussion are matters for more than one board. Smaller boards and their groups will make joint meetings more convenient, and allow the Membership and Public Affairs Boards to become involved where their specialist knowledge would be helpful. Tn these ways, every member of Council would have the opportunity of discussing important matters at board level, thus saving a good deal of time and often misunderstanding in Council. This system will undoubtedly deny us some interesting performances in Council but, on the other hand, will enable us to make better progress with our work. A larger number of smaller boards and their subsidiary groups, with every a team of vice presidents to lead them (see p 369). He also listed five main objectives — based on the action programme approved by the previous Council — efficiently, we must alter the pattern of our board structure. At the moment, it is organised on traditional lines in which work is undertaken by a small number of relatively large boards or committees, all eating away at conventional agendas. In large committees or boards, it is not unusual for only a few members to become committed and identified with the work in hand. For this reason, I subscriptions will not be raised until 1975 at the earliest. This is an edited version of the President's Paper: the Council debate is reported on p 369 which he thought could be achieved in the next two years, and he reminded Council that it must Council paper A two year programme including the work currently carried out by the investigation committee. Membership Board: Membership relations are very important, and this new board will occupya central position in the affairs of Council and be available for consultation by other boards. European Affairs Board: Britain’s entry into the EEC is of great importance to the membership at large. The matter is SO important that it warrants a new board with a special relationship to ARCUK. International Relations Board: We must not be overawed by Europe, and our links with the Commonwealth and other areas of the world must be maintained. This board will keep Council informed of world affairs in matters of architecture. DEMOCRACY FOR ARGHITECTS Architect Louis Hellman — more widely known as the brilliant weekly cartoonist on the ‘Architects Journal’ — left public practice in March this year after working for five years in the schools division of the GLC architecture department, which he joined because he thought it would provide better design opportunities than private practice. Hellman resigned after a fight with senior management over the quality of school building in London, during which he was told that he must either design an Islington school in the Mace system — which he believed to be crude, uneconomical, technically shoddy, and against his notion of professionalism — or move to another division — a choice which he found unacceptable. The following is an account of Hellman’s experiences as a job architect in the GLC, the struggles within the department to democratise its organisation, his downfall while trying to maintain professional standards, and some thoughts on alternative ways of working. It includes a history of the GLC architecture club and its efforts to establish a more effective voice for those glued to the drawing board. The article presents a view from the bottom layer of the pyramid —one that is rarely heard and still less rarely heeded — and it does nothing to dispel the fear that, as they are reorganised into bigger units, local authorities will become even more internally undemocratic, inflexible, and unwieldy, and externally more out of touch with the community’s needs. Some readers may think that Hellman’s narrative is overpersonal in places, or perhaps even raw and bitter, but the RIBAJ believes that itdeserves to be taken seriously. His arguments on system building and the proper function of administration raise a lot of solid architectural questions about competence and creativity, management’s role, job participation, and responsibility to users. As the RIBA has repeatedly pointed out — most recently in its action programme for the seventies — these are issues which are crucial to the future of architecture in Britain. The RIBAJ believes that the profession must discuss them openly and vigorously if it is to survive. A leading article is on p 365 and our pages are, as always, open to members’ views. Background: why | joined the GLC Ijoined the GLC in the summer of 1968 for two reasons. First, I had been employed until then by alarge well known private practice in a team designing a vast new university in the midlands. Iwas very dissatisfied both with team design urder centralised control and with large projects, and I had come to the conclusion that part of the reason for the failure of modern architecture is the size of many projects: such scale virtually presupposes bleak, characterless, and anonymous results. In the GLC schools division Ithought that Iwould have an opportunity of designing small buildings with a great measure of personal control from start to finish. 395 Second, the GLC architect’s department had retained somethingof the reputation built up in the late 1950s both for the quality ofits output and the freedom allowed to architects to develop their ideas. I had become disillusioned with the orthodox functionalist dogmas that had been instilled in me both in college and in offices, and Iwas looking for ways of practice that would allow me to develop alternatives to what Ibelieved to be irrelevant and anti humanist design principles. The old Lcc’s reputation was the direct result of reforms instituted after the second world war by the progressive and far sighted chief architects, Robert Matthew and Leslie Martin. They reorganised the department on the group principle, with leaders heading small groupsof job architects who had greater freedom of action than under the old system, and they also propagated modern architecture as the style that could best cope with the building programme of a large local authority, while at the same time attracting young and enthusiastic job architects to do the work. Eachof these achievements was made within the overall structure ofa large and rigid bureaucracy. Isoon learned that during the reign of the then chief architect, Hubert Bennett, the department had stagnated under uninspired leadership. The original impetus, whose success flowed from the confidence placed in job architects and the encouragement given to them, had given way to a new brand of bureaucratic control. Moreover, the architectural climate of the late sixties and early seventies was quite different from that ofthe previous decade. no longer enough to be allowed to tinker in isolation with one’s own It was RIBAJ August 1973 RIBAJ August 1973 An open invitation to everyone with aclient who can’t make up his mind about wall panels EZ ia Y \ | om > 1\ \ i} z S\2, * Pictures alone can’t help him. Hand samples can give no idea of the final effect. Bring him along to Anderson’s magnificent showrooms in Islington Green. Let him see for himself the most unique display of full-size panels, which can be ordered on the spot. Plus Ceiling Panels, Doors, Timber, Plywood. Every kind. of board. All under one roof. And if you can’t spare the time yourself, ask him to come and see us on his own. He'll enjoy it. And it will save you a great deal of time and trouble. C.F.ANDERSON &SON LTD. ISLINGTON GREEN, LONDON, NI 2XJ (Established 1863) Telephone: 01-226 1212 Telex: 261321/2 particular stylistic preoccupation. The growing awareness among both laymen and professionals of the wider political and social implicationsoflocal authority building meant that the architect’s role as a paternalistic professional oligarch who alone knew what was best for the tenants and children of London was increasingly in question. The recipients of the Lcc’s versions of ‘ville radieuse’ were not as grateful as they should have been. Not only were they emerging in action groups and talking of participation, but they were starting to ask embarrassing questions, such as why do the architects who so vehemently advocate concrete high rise monumental solutions live themselves in houses with gardens? In planning, too, it was becoming clear that the wholesale destruction of London, to which the GLC wasa party, was being done in the name of increased profit for a minority, and that it would be replaced not by some continental style utopia, but by featureless and grim complexes inwhich minimal provision was made for people’s needs. As the sixties drew to a close, there was no sign that the GLC architect’s department was in any way broadening its thinking or equippingitself to grapple with major changes in society, as it had done in the postwar decade. On the contrary, itwas retreating even further to a blinkered and alienated paternalism. New management takes command Under the Tories, the ‘managerial revolution’ arrived in the architect’s department. For the first half of my time in the GLC under Bennett, the hierarchy was headed by men of the old regime — essentially conservative, drawn from public school backgrounds, and trained as architects before the war. Becauseof their belief in their divine right to positions at the top, they could afford to be tolerant, or even eccentric, ina disinterested and affable way. But at the same time, they were inefficient, relied heavily on the old boy network, and were il at ease with technology and environmental sciences. The management conscious architects who took over from them were a new breed of conservatives, much more similar to Ted Heath and his band. Because of their working class and grammar school backgrounds, they felt that they had attained their position not by privilege but through their own effort and determination, and so they were much more inflexible and hardnosed in the face of what they saw to be any threat to their rank. They had been trained in the forties and early fifties, and were cast in the orthodox functionalist and technological mould. fashionable) and retaineda belief in the centralised stalinist brand of socialism. Local authorities with their bureaucratic structures were ideal for them. The myth of ‘management’ has pervaded society in general. The notion ofa superior caste of decision makers, formulating policy and handing down directives to a lesser body of ‘work units’ who carry out the tasks without question, is increasingly accepted as the only way that Great Britain Ltd can be run. The managers are separated from the rest ofus by big offices, personal secretaries, expense account lunches, access to confidential information, and chauffeur driven cars. They must have all these, we are told, in order to negotiate with other managers, whether in government or industry, here or abroad. It is further believed that the implementation of management techniques can solve every problem: introduce them into any huge organisation, and al will be well. The GLC management structure ismade in this image (suitably watered down, ofcourse). Professionals who aspire to these dizzy heights must shake off the remnantsof building design, with its connotations of manual labour, draughtsmanship, and creativity. As the clerk to Kent County Council said in the Bains report: “When an architect or surveyor reaches midmanagement level, he will have to make a choice between top management and the professional side. Professionalism has its merits and provides a high standard of advice, but itcan also inclinate [sic] against the corporate approach.’ In his own terms,of course, he isentirely correct. Management today isabove professional responsibility: itisnot possible within the GLC to progress through the upper grades and stil function as an architect. As the concept of ‘management’ emerged with its semantic encumbrances — ‘branch head’, ‘work units’, and ‘control data’ —so the gulf widened in the GLc between the upper grades and the architects doing the design work. Similarly, as the power and autonomy of the managerial bureaucracy were strengthened, so the gap increased between the transient politicians and the permanent ‘civil service’ of professional advisers. So the architectural hierarchy was doubly alienated —first from the needs and aspirations of designers, and second from the only representatives of the users for whom the authority’s buildings were supposed to be designed. Administrators were now in positions of power out of all proportion to their merit or talent. Top managers have always been appointed by the GLC to act as virtual dictators: the heads of the various sections are individually responsible for al decisions and departmental policies. That is why you never sign your own GLC, but instead write the name ofyour divisional ordepartmental head. Itisa procedure that Ialways found hard to comply with, because there issomething dehumanised about signing another’s name. In addition, of course, when buildings are shown in the press, their authorship is always attributed to ‘The architect to the council’. Like the grading system, it seemed to me part of a general conspiracy to ensure that your personal identity was destroyed. The old regime had coped with this situation by operating a benevolent and tolerant dictatorship, and never using their power as despots. The new managerial class, however, exploited and abused their power at every opportunity. Indeed, the difference in values between architects and management was, to me, unnerving. I ‘Itis almost unheard of for job architects [in public practice] to report to client committees: they report instead to other architects who know better than they do. The pyramid style is only a mirror of most other departmental establishments in town and county halls, but in most departments the base of the pyramid is composed of clerks. In architect departments, itis composed of highly qualified professionals who are treated like clerks’ George Oldham in the May RIBA Journal had naively thought that, as qualified architects, we would basically share the same goals. At no time, however, did I find management cooperative or helpful. They appeared to be concerned only with maintaining their own position with the minimum of effort and trouble. Ifany real problem was raised, it would be met with some vague and totally useless observation, or some snide reference to one’s own alleged inadequacies. Some at group leader level had reputations for doing no actual work at all: others spent their time indulging in office affairs or petty manoeuvring in internal politics. From the job architect’s point of view, it was difficult to ascertain what contribution they made, if any. At the same time, management kept a check on those under them by means of a system of secret reports compiled by group leaders. The reports were related not to one’s architectural output, but to personal qualities which those making the reports were not qualified to judge. It was very bad for morale. And so was the reverence for private practice that management constantly displayed. They never failed They might have dabbled in a kind of communismintheiryouth(whenitwas nameOnmemorandaorlettersinthe RIBAJ August 1973 396 to point out how much better and quicker architects in private practice could do our work, but they seemed totally unaware that this was mainly the result of their own inept management. Mace: or metric monumentality IfI had left private practice in the hope of entering a more liberal environment, I was soon to learn my mistake. About ayear after Ijoined the GLC, ameeting of the whole schools division was called (a rare occurrence) to inform us that the ILEA was committed to joining MACE (Metropolitan Architectural Consortium for Education) and to initiateusintothewondersofthe system. MACE was sold to us as being different from other systems on two counts:itwaspurposedesignedtocope with urban sites, and it had high architectural quality. Basically, the system was based on a Im planning grid, and appeared to consist of 2.4m high concrete panels supporting an “A deck’ roof structure. the fault of the architects or the system itself. Surely one didn’t have to use those miserable ridged concrete panels, or to produce such stodgy plans? There was, however, a growing wave of discontent from architects using MACE. The technical failings of the system seemed to be more numerous and basic than one would reasonably expect ina new product. A ‘feedback’ conference was held with MACE job architects, and the following are typical ofthe technical inadequacies which emerged indiscussion: First, the 1m planning grid was found to be too large for comfort, and also contrary to the British Standard on modular coordination, which recommends aplanning grid of900mm broken down toa300mm component subdivision. Then there were complaints about poor sound and thermal insulation,aboutthecostofthe system’s ducted warm air heating, about external wall leaks, and about the failures of concrete ground beams, the impractical nature of prepackaged plumbing units, and the lack of choice in finishes. In addition, it appeared that Moreover, I would be the last to advocate purely economic solutions: architects too often lower their standards and abdicate their responsibilities in the face of such arguments. Ifyou sincerely believe a project is worthwhile, you should try to push it through even though it may not be the most economic. The Department of Education & Science, however, is totally committed to system building, and since it controls not only the cost of new schools but also ‘Among the existing local authority departments, some are more professionally oriented than others, and in such departments [the professionals] derive satisfaction both from their own jobsandfromtheknowledgethat [their chief] understands what they are doing and will speak for them’ Bains report on the new local authorities their planning and appearance, each local authority is eager to adopt a system to please its masters in Whitehall. In addition, MACE received an extra development cost allocation from the government, and any scheme designed in MACE will be regarded favourably by the Des — even though it is bottom of the systems league even in the department’s eyes. Apart from pacifying the DEs, of course, a system like MACE dovetails very well with bureaucratic attitudes and controls. MACEis tailor made for management architects because it has a very strong ‘functional’ aesthetic — meaning not that it is functional in practice, but simply that it is rectilinear and modular in appearance. Bureaucrat architects are uneasy when confronted with schemes which show individuality or imagination, and find it hard to read plans and elevations which are not diagrammatically simple. Though discussionof architectural quality remains taboo to them, with a system such as MACE they can talk about ‘modules’ and ‘components’, ‘grids’ and ‘junctions’, and exercise not only control over designers’ careers (as they have always done) but aesthetic control as well. The moral superiority of system building is implicit in orthodox functionalist thinking: the very alternative — ‘traditional building’ — has become a pejorative term. Architecture Itsoonbecameclearthatthedecisionto MACEdidnotcomplywiththeLondon use MACE was afait accompli, for nobody had consulted the job architects on what kind of system —if any —was required. During the subsequent discussion, which was monopolised by group leaders and senior officers, only one architect was courageous enough to voice an objection on the grounds that standards were being lowered. He was immediately made the subject ofa vicious and personal attack by management, who made sneering references to the cost ofa building he had just completed. The implication was that MACE would be highly economic. There was no argument, because the intellectual climateof the division did not allow for free and frank discussion about the purpose of our work. People were not encouraged to speak up for what they believed in: indeed, they were fearful of so doing. When the first MACE buildings were completed in London, they were disappointing to say the least — ugly, out of scale with their urban surroundings, and technically crude. Far from being anonymous enclosures for teaching, they were assertively ‘architectural’ with amost unpleasant brutalist prefab aesthetic. Itwas obvious that those responsible for the development of the components were by no means competent or sensitive designers —a problem of system building which has been better described by Geoffrey Broadbent (see facing page). But though Iwas prejudiced against the system and voiced my doubts openly, Iam not opposed to system building in principle — only to bad system building — will. The whole costing of schools is and Idid not know enough about MACE to judge whether the results were now so fluid and obscure that statistics can be made to prove almost anything. 397 RIBAJ August 1973 building bylaws or fire requirements in some respects. Both the structural engineers and mechanical services engineers were unhappy about many aspects of the system, and resented not having been consulted. It seemed as though MACE had been developed in total isolation, without reference to existing systems, relevant ‘(The GLC department of architecture] has an enviable professional reputation. It demonstrates what a group of people selected for their professional ability and assisted by an enthusiastic and understanding administration can achieve. Itcould, with advantage, be copied by other local authorities’ Jack Whittle, Cheshire county architect: AJ, 2 May authorities, or those who were expected touseit.Aprogrammeforhundredsof schools in south east England had been embarked on without even building and testing a prototype in use. There were ominous rumours that MACE was proving grossly expensive, and that teaching areas and standards were being reduced in order to try and makethesystemwork.Butitisdifficult isdeemedtobealuxurysprayedon,if to criticise MACE on cost grounds, for al required, after the functional theinformationisinthehandsofthe programmehasbeenfulfilled.AsIwas authority and can be manipulated at soon to discover, MACE provides tidy standardised boxes for tidy standardised administrative thinking about tidy standardised school briefs. Battle of Grafton primary school the feasibility of the system. The GLC quantity surveyor on the job had also warned that current estimates showed MACE costs to be rising faster than those in accordance with the brief, to provide open spaces outside the teaching areas, as well as views and daylighting. In my alternative scheme, the five per cent This was the background to my eventual of other buildings. It was agreed that he saving on structure cost could have been confrontation with management, and then my resignation from the GLC. Iwas given aprimary school rebuilding job to design: Grafton school in Islington. I knew that this was part of the MACE programme, and Isaw itasan opportunity to explore the system in detail and find how itcoped with difficult urban sites. Whenaschool isassignedtotheMACE programme ~as are virtually al new primary schools in the GLC area — no prior site investigation is made to assess suitability. The Grafton school site is in the backwaters of Holloway, at the junction of Seven Sisters and Holloway Road: itissurrounded by three or four storey shops, industrial buildings, and decaying houses, and is grossly under the minimum area required by the DEs. In addition, the existing ‘board’ school and its playground were to be retained during the rebuilding, and some corners of the site were not immediately available: therefore the site left for building on was very small, highly irregular in shape, and enclosed on three sides. The education officer stressed the need for a single storey school if humanly possible, and Iagreed. Itseemed wrong to compromise the eventual school and site for the sake of short term restrictions: the school might have to operate under difficulties for ayear or so, but it was the long term solution which would be important. After much work and effort, Iarrived at a single storey solution which was on the MACE grid and met the client’s requirements. MACE representatives assured me that concrete panels could be dispensed with and either purpose designed components or brick cladding substituted. Of course, they had a vested interest in selling the scheme. Privately, however, some members of the MACE design team voiced grave doubts about should check the cost of the scheme, comparing MACE with an alternative Ihad evolved ona previous job which used a ‘rationalised’, loadbearing, brick and steel framed structure, and which had proved highly economic. The conclusion was that MACE would be at least five per cent more expensive than my alternative, provided that the system’s standard kit of concrete loadbearing panels was used. Any introduction of nonstandard units or traditional materials would further increase the cost of MACE. So the 9s suggested that the plan area and the amount of external wall should be reduced. At this point, Idecided that the system was just not appropriate for the site. The elongated and meandering plan form was intended to cope with the irregularities of the site boundary and, ‘Suppose, for example, that we take a technological view on creativity: that it is a matter of solving technical problems in new and more “elegant” ways. Surely that hasa place in anyone’s vocabulary of architectural design techniques, however rational they may think themselves ? Indeed, it has been one of the tragedies of system building, as developed so far, that no One paid much attention to the creative aspects of detail design. In Clasp, for example, the detailing is unbelievably crude: one has only to look at the ways in which windows are fitted into the steel frame, or corners negotiated, to used for additional area or the provision ofcovered outside spaces related to home bays, which thebrief said were essential. But in the MACE system, there Was no way of saving cost to meet the brief’s requirements. How can you reduce area on a Im planning module without chopping off valuable teaching space ? How can you decrease the height of external walls when only a 2.4m high component isavailable? The implicationsof the restriction imposed by the concrete panels Ifound to be serious. The site was depressing and tatty: the sort of mess our society reserves for schools in working class areas. The children in the neighbourhood live in slums or tower blocks which are as shabby and overcrowded as their school environment. They have endured intolerable conditions and waited more agree with Reyner Banham that the “clip joints” are indeed “‘il met’. The problem here, of course, is that the architects who developed Clasp were attracted to the project because they considered themselves non creative...so Clasp became an assemblage of bits and pieces lacking any kind of consistency because no one in the design team was Capable of the creative gestures needed to transcend the immediate problem and produce an overall solution which was elegant in the technical sense’ Geoffrey Broadbent: Designin architecture (see p 419) RIBAJ August 1973 398 Grafton school playground in Islington: two views showing site boundary and surrounding industrial building than fifteen years for anew school. In this situation, the architect’s responsibility isdeep and fundamental. He knows that almost any solution which involves a new building will be initially acceptable to people in such circumstances. Itistherefore essential that great care and attention should be given to providing the best possible solution; it is the easiest thing in the world for middle class professionals to plonk down some bland concrete box in thebelief that the ignorant working class cannot appreciate anything better. Indeed, one of the more serious criticisms ofMACE isthat mostof the architects who are forced to use it have such alow opinionofthe system that they do not give sufficient care and attention to their work. Since the system can be blamed for any failures in design, the general attitude is to get it over and done with as quickly as possible, and hope to move on to something more satisfying. This isa bad stateofaffairs: total standardisation stifles creativity, diminishes autonomy and responsibility, and prevents architects from questioning every design assumption. 30 MARCH 1973 Hellman’s letter to ILEA leader Ashley Bramall *I was recently removed as architect in charge of rebuilding the Grafton primary school, Islington, because of my conyiction that the Mace system* was not appropriate for this site. I would like to briefly describe the justifications for my conclusions, which were not arrived at lightly, but were the result of long and careful deliberation and a great deal of work and effort. ‘The initial site is grossly under area, hemmed in by housing and industrial buildings on three sides, and long and irregular in shape. These constraints resulted in a plan form with a complex perimeter to skirt the meandering boundaries, to provide light, and to open out the spaces related to teaching areas. I found the Mace system too inflexible to cope satisfactorily with these conditions. ‘The alternative method of building proposed by me was estimated by the quantity surveyor to be at least 5 per cent cheaper. The scheme cannot be built in Mace without further reducing teaching areas. ‘L agreed to design the school knowing that itwasintheMace programme andonthe assumption that the quality of the result would depend on the architect. Having investigated Mace thoroughly, both in planning and completed buildings, Ino longer believe this to be the case. The technical and financial restrictions mean that, at best, the result will be mediocre and out of scale, and at worst, ugly and technically shoddy. ‘The children in the area live in tower blocks Ido not believe that architecture can be separated from design in this way: the means by which form and spaces evolve is architecture — by which I mean human scale, variety, and sensitivity in every detail. Ibelieved that the children, teachers, and parents of Grafton school deserved these things, as well as warm natural materials and a considered relationship between the building and its site. But the restrictions imposed by an inflexible, uneconomic, and poorly designed system like MACE are too great for individual architects to control the result more than marginally. Iwas shown a‘good example’ ofa MACE school in Surrey where the architect had quite rightly dispensed with the concrete panels. But he had replaced them with painted plywood! The school was opened only recently, and so the ply has not yet experienced the relentless onslaught of English weather and lusty children. What kind ofspace age technology isthat? Iwon't discuss the unpleasant details of how Iwas speedily removed from the job by management, who had either not seen the plans or site, or had glanced at the scheme for only a or near slums. Ibelieve that they deserve something better than mean concrete boxes for their school environment. That “‘better’” Iconsidertobenatural,warmmaterialsand textures (brick and timber), a variety of lighting and spaces, and a considered relationship of new buildings both to the old environment around them and to the site landscaping. The quantity surveyor confirmed that such a solution was possible within the budget. ‘The implications of my dismissal from the job (without a proper chance to put my case, I might add) are, I believe, serious as far as architects working for the ILEA are concerned. It seems that architects will no longer be allowed to exercise their professional judgement in evaluating what they professionally consider to be the solution in the best interests of the client. ‘I know that I am not alone in believing that ~ few minutes. They were not willing to discuss the reasons for my conclusions. Iwas offered no other job, and was given the choice of doing the scheme in MACE or leaving the schools division. Education officers, quantity surveyors, and engineers had privately voiced their dislike of MACE. Informed opinion in the architectural profession had demonstrated the economic and social failures of closed systems. For these reasons, it was essential that any dissent such as my own should be seen to be crushed quickly and easily, as a warning to others. As Jsaid in my open letter to Ashley Bramall, the leader of the ILEA, on leaving the GLC (see below), the implications of this ‘minor’ incident are serious and far reaching for architects working in the GLC. In effect, they are being asked to actina manner which they know is unprofessional. An architect’s professional responsibility (which transcends his immediate responsibility to his employer) is to evaluate every solution at his disposal, and to select that which he deems to be in the best interests of the client. I was prevented from exercising that judgement. Mace isadisastrous mistake, and that the ILEA has been very badly advised by officers to join the consortium, for at a recentmeetingofschoolsarchitectsinthe GLC, the overwhelming majority yoted to reject Mace in its present form. ‘The GLC has in the past won international acclaim for the high quality of its school design. This was achieved by giving free rein to the designers, and by showing confidence in their professional abilities. I beg you and your committee to reconsider the position regarding Mace before we commit ourselves further to this form of visual pollution.’ *Metropolitan Architectural Consortium for Education: a prefabricated building system for schools in south east England using mass produced, wall height, rough concrete panels, and tlat roofs. Outside wall and room heights are standardised. Ashley Bramall’s reply to Hellman ‘I haye read with interest your letter about Grafton primary school. I have already asked for a comprehensive review of the use by the ILEA of the Mace system of construction, and Iunderstand that the report will be presented to the appropriate subject committee immediately after the election. While the authority is a member of the consortium it is implicit that the system should be used whenever practicable. ‘So far as the issue of Grafton school is concerned, Iam told that our senior professional officers did not agree with your view that the use of Mace was impracticable, nor that in the hands of a competent architect the school need be *‘mediocre and out of scale”’ or ‘‘ugly and technically shoddy’’: furthermore that, even in the form of construction you fayour, the quantity suryeyor’s adyice was that your scheme could not be built within the cost limits. It is these cost limits which have led to the lowering of standards in school building. ‘May Isay that Ifind your claim that you had no proper chance to put your case difficult to understand in view of your long discussion with the schools architect [James Pace] about your attitude to the Mace system. ‘Within the architect’s department, as you say, architects are given considerable scope in exercising their professional judgement.* They must, however, be subject to those responsibilities which fall to professional officers in charge of a department in carrying out the authority’s building programme.’ *The text of his letter shows that Hellman did not say this — editor. RIBAJ August 1973 How architects ought to work System building carries such a built-in moral imperative that any opposition to this holy functionalist doctrine is taken to imply the desire to return to some mediaeval craft based building technology. But sensible opponents would be the last to advocate a return totheoldsystemof/aissezfairein design terms. Though I have stressed individual responsibility for design, this does not mean that architects, whether in public or private practice, should continue to work in a vacuum, alienated from the real life of buildings. Good architecture has never been produced in this way. Ibelieve that there should be more rather than less constraints on architects in the design stages: but the sourceoftheconstraintsisimportant. Those imposed by crude standardisation of the end product, departmental myopia, oligarchic management, or surrogate clients are irrelevant and can be swept away without a second thought. On the other hand, constraints in the form of monitoring and consultation, which stem from liaison with those most closely concerned with buildings (namely, users in the widest sense), are necessary and essential. Within the office organisation, there should equally be a strong design discipline — not necessarily involving standardisation ofthe architect’s end product, but rather the means by which he achieves that solution. Management, instead ofexisting mainly to perpetuate itsownmythology,shouldbeemployed to ensure that the lines of communication between the different parts in the design process function continually to their fullest extent. Such a reorganisation can be summarised under three headings: contact with users, design information, and departmental organisation. Contact with users Oneofthe reasons formediocrity in local authority architecture is that designers are not answerable to those most concerned with buildings: the real clients. The GLc chief architect, Sir Roger Walters, has praised the consultation which the Swinbrook area forced the GLC to undertake before it designed housing there. To the council, however, participation means allowing users to choose between, say, three colours of concrete cladding: that apart, ithardly affects the way the department works. The GLC cannot or will not comprehend that participatory design involves fairly radical changes in the thinking and methods of designers, to enable them to deal with real clients. Briefing:Atthemoment, briefingis conducted by administrators, with architects playing a subservient and passive role. The “brief” is often in the form ofa sacred schedule of rooms or fixed areas, and may not be deviated from. Only administrators have the power to alter areas, while architects are expected to make no contribution at all. In school design in particular, vital decisions are often made by people who have no architectural or educationalqualificationswhichare greatly detrimental to the functioning of schools and their relation to the community. The users ofthe buildings play no part in this process: the school head may perhaps attend the meeting where the final sketch plans are presented, but he or she will rarely be in a position to contribute much, or even to comment usefully. Briefing should surely be a much more fluid process, entailing face to face RIBAJ August 1973 Three Mace schools Left Assembly hall, Edith Neville primary school, Camden. See also p 371 Below Concrete wall panels, Godstone infants school, Surrey Below left Detail of concrete panel, St Nicholas esn school Purley, Surrey discussion between architects and user representatives, and administration should be confined to its proper function, which is to provide liaison and advice. This process would ideally develop from free interchange of ideas to the formulationof a loose brief and eventually abuilding solution. Itis to be hoped that committee members, who are the community’s political representatives, would also be involved in the meetings, instead of merely rubber stamping the final plans — as they do now. The ILEA education architect, Gordon Wigglesworth, has recently hinted that some parental involvement in the design of schools is imminent. ‘It is al part of the new grass roots democracy and is to be welcomed. Politicians today have become far too remote from the local issues which mean so much to their electors’ (note the careful shifting of blame on to politicians). But, if ‘parent participation’ isinterpreted by the GLC in the same way that ‘architect participation’ has been, itis unlikely to be of much value — except in improving the corporate image. Indeed, the old attitudes already show through the pious liberal affirmations, as when Wigglesworth emphasises the understanding of people’s ‘needs rather than wants’ — the standard professional euphemism for ‘we know what's best for you’. Empirical information: Architects spend far too much time in their offices toying with designs on paper. There is no substitute for direct experience of the day to day working of schools — for observing teachers and children in practice. Not enough encouragement is given to architects to visit schools, and when they do itisoften when the building is empty, so that the children will not ‘spoil’ the spaces. Even walking round when the kids are there is not really enough: it is difficult to understand what is happening in teaching situations (it might even stop when visitors come), and architects often concentrate only on the building fabric anyway. School designers should be able to ‘sit in’ and observe for long periods before tackling designs on paper. More can be learned from a week’s intelligent and > perceptive observation than ina year spent scrutinising design guides or DES bulletins, though these certainly provide useful back-up material. And experience of other activities related to the school —staff seminars, PTA meetings, playground games, even the local pub — Isequally essential. Local involvement: There is a need for greater liaison with boroughs and community organisations to determine local requirements. Though in theory the boroughs now have far more control over their own affairs, there is stil the feeling that the GLC is uncooperative, antagonistic, and bullying toward local councils. There should, however, be no conflict of ‘interests’ between authorities which each serve the same people in the area. The process of choosing sites very much affects these relations, and at the moment it is not carried out efficiently. Potential sites are scrutinised on ordnance survey maps in the office, and if(as invariably happens) they are found to be too small, adjoining houses are arbitrarily added to make up the minimum area required by the DES Participation and the architecture club... Early in 1972, the new chief architect to the GLC, Roger Walters, suggested that an architecture club might be organised on similar lines to the many groups and societies which already existed in the council. He further expressed the wish that such a club should be run by younger architects in the department and remain free from interference by the upper levels But the ad hoc committee formed to get the club going was composed of the usual establishment yes men, who proposed a programme of events which consisted mainly of inviting private big name architects to chat about their work A group in the schools division, resentful of yet another activity being taken over by the mentally middle aged, got together to determine what job architects might expect such an organisation to do. Two main aims — participation and user contact — emerged from their initial discussions and were circulated in a pamphlet. The following is an extract ‘We job architects believe that there is a need for a forum to discuss our role within the GLC, with the aim of finding how to improve the architecture produced by the department, and how to make our voice felt effectively ‘We feel that the architecture club, which has been officially sanctioned as our organisation, is an ideal framework within which to discuss these matters, and we should like to see the following points debated as a matter of priority: ‘The architects on the lower level have no say in the running of the department, and no possibility of participating in the internal decisions which fundamentally affect their working lives. We job architects are expected to carry out policies made without prior consultation and which frequently conflict with our professional ethic ‘The architecture club should represent the working architects of the GLC — who are the majority. Since we do the real work, we should participate in the decisions which affect our work as professionals, and also our working environment. There must be no question of veto or approval by the establishment “We have no contact-of any kind with the real clients of our buildings, whether they be tenants, teachers, children, or old people. We are forced to make do with the interpretations of user requirements made by middle men and administrators, such as housing managers or education officers: the false clients. We do not believe that these people, however good their intentions, can truly represent the real clients increased pressures from job architects in the schools division, who wanted to meet management to discuss this problem. A meeting was duly organised and management expressed support for the idea of ‘participation’. But it was clear that they interpreted the ‘The club should start to fil the gaps by pressing for the implementation of Skeffington, and by restructuring the architect/client organisation to allow direct contact and participation. Non architects should not merely be allowed to join, as has been suggested, but should be actively encouraged to word to mean some mild and participate. And the club should have its own magazine” At the subsequent election of a permanent committee to run the club, a majority of architects in sympathy with these aims were voted in. The result of a questionnaire circulated to everyone in the department showed that most people wanted just such a forum to discuss matters which were of immediate concern In one respect, of course, the GLC is a paper tiger. Everyone who joins soon develops the notion that Big Brother is watching every move and waiting to pounce at the slightest hint of dissent. But it is all in the mind, since ‘the GLC’ is only the people who work in it. On the other hand, those who organised the club’s activities — which included meetings on the Covent Garden scheme with the planning team and community spokesmen, architect and tenant seminars on housing chaired by Nicholas Taylor and David Eversley, and discussions on schoo! design with teachers — knew that they were seriously jeopardising their careers within the department The first demand in the club’s ‘manifesto’ — participation within the department — led to harmless form of consultation: they were prepared to give information about selected policy decisions, but not about those which, for whatever reason, were deemed ‘confidential’ The meeting was in no mood for this, however, and much to the annoyance of management, votes were taken on several important issues, including the use of Mace. The majority who votedtorejectMacein its present form were by no means composed solely of the ‘radicals’ or the ‘articulate’, but on the contrary were those who would normally have been thought too timid or apathetic to make their feelings known The value of voting at such a general meeting was brought home to me by the majority's rejection of Mace. |understood why bodies like trade unions, which use such apparently cumbersome procedures, are ridiculed and attacked by the press:management cannot abide decisions which are not the result of secret negotiations by appointed individuals To the further irritation of management, this important meeting was reported in the professional press. For a whole day, the first floor of County RIBAJ August 1973 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Maurice McCarthy Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived John Allan Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 01 May 1974 https://nam.maydayrooms.org/files/original/4a52c88245272c062f4b4faaca058962.pdf 8bdb13b55cd99fbf0189a3d790485536 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Trade Unions and Architecture Description An account of the resource Themes included action on asbestos and Health &amp; Safety, and involvement with Direct Labour Organisations and Building Unions. Following comparative research of possible options, NAM encouraged unionisation of building design staffs within the private sector, negotiating the establishment of a dedicated section within TASS. Though recruitment was modest the campaign identified many of the issues around terms of employment and industrial relations that underpin the processes of architectural production. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Lucas Aerospace/ NELP Subject The topic of the resource Notice for 1 day conference organised by CAITS Description An account of the resource CENTRE FOR ALTERNATIVE INDUSTRIAL AND TECHNOLOGICAL SYSTEMS CoA 15 ALTERNATIVES TO UNEMPLOYMENT - NEW APPROACHES TO WORK IN INDUSTRY AND THE COMMUNITY ONE-DAY CONFERENCE -SATURDAY, 18th NOVEMBER 1978 A one-day conference is being planned for later this year. It is organised focus for information about recent by the Centre for Alternative Industrial producer co-operatives. and Technological Systems as a developments in industry and communities. LUCAS AEROSPACE COMBINE SHOP STEWARDS COMMITTEE NORTH EAST LONDON POLYTECHNIC Longbridge Road Dagenham Essex RM8 2AS 01-599 5141 QO The theme of the Conference is to a large extent concerned with the work of the Centre, but we hope most of the contributors will come from outside the Centre. The Centre itself is a unique venture in co-operation between the North East London Polytechnic and the Lucas Aerospace Combine Shop Stewards Committee. It exists to help develop the idea and the practical reality of socially useful production, especially in industries and areas which suffer from structural unemployment. The Lucas Aerospace Combine Shop Stewards Committee have put forward constructive proposals for product diversification in Lucas Aerospace as an alternative to redundancy - the Corporate Plan. The Plan was drawn up from replies to a questionnaire sent to Lucas Aerospace employees, asking them to make an audit of plant and sheds and asking for suggestions for alterna- tive products. The Plan consists of six 200 page volumes, detailing 150 products in three broad categories; products which have social utility, but which also have market potential, such as heat pumps for house heating; products which do not have an obvious market potential in the conventional sense, such as medical equipment; products which have more long-term implications, such as equipment for solar and wind energy systems. The Centre is not only concerned with the development of Lucas Plan products, it also has a responsibility for assisting the development of employment- creating initiatives in the Docklands Area, in particular, the development of | CONFERENCE THEMES The preparation of ‘Corporate Plans! by workers in industries that are redundancy-prone. Industrial conversion - top-down or bottom-up? Implications of industrial conversion for Trade Unions, Managements and Government. 20 Employment policies - industrial strategy and local employment initiatives. What are the employment possibilities in an inner City area? What special features need to be examined and what are the opportunities offered by them? "Corporate Plans! for communities? What is the role of Trade Council's and Trade Unions in local employment initiatives? Resource use and waste in industrial strategy - the local reality. Jobs and Alternative Technology - are there real possibilities for long term job creation in the so-called alternative technologies? Energy-saving, through insulation programmes could provide long-term employment, resource and social benefits. Energy-saving, through re-commissioning of small urban power stations, centring on Combined Heat and Power (CHP) systems - could also provide employment, resource and social benefits. Other ‘alternative! energy sources - wind, wave and solar- viable and employment creating? e@) Refuse - waste or resource? Environmental protection and pollution control - money spinners or job creation? s The future of work - will there be a dual economy? Core and marginal economic activities - increasing fragmentation and isolation? a high-capital, high-wage sector taking the majority of conventionally viable product markets, leaving marginal, low-wage activities to co-operatives, municipal industry, voluntary groups etc? Is there a viable role for management in the future? Can Trade Unions break out of economistic activities? What could be the future of the man-machine interface? Are we stuck with the legacy of Taylor for all time - job structure - a constraint or an opportunity? MG/MED March,1978. he ~ maser How can 'Corporate Plans' be drawn up by workers? - Trade Union organisation/management reaction/industrial democracy. How to define socially-useful goods and services? How can you ‘market? socially-useful goods? Is there a role for Co-operatives in local employment creation- O advantages and disadvantages of Co-ops/small businesses? : Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource MG/MED ? Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived John Allan Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource March 1978 https://nam.maydayrooms.org/files/original/22998c43220daecc16d2d0d5de76ab16.pdf 1be2aab6289d046f05ce2ee5a40b8871 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Professional Issues Description An account of the resource A cohort of NAM members became engaged with the professional registration body, standing as elected councillors on the Architects Registration Council and its various committees. Hitherto entirely dominated by the RIBA bloc, the Council began to yield to a new dynamic through NAM's involvement, enabling fresh perspectives on such issues as mandatory fee scales, greater lay representation on the body, ethically-based standards of professional conduct, etc. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource "Architects' Services", Monopolies Commission Report (see p.68 for ref. to NAM's Report Description An account of the resource Architects’ Services A Report on the Supply of Architects’ Services with Reference to Scale Fees ve LONDON THE MONOPOLIES AND MERGERS COMMISSION i Ordered by The House of Commons fo be printed 8th November 1977 | Presented to Parliament in pursuance of Section 83 of the Fair Trading Act 1973 HER MAJESTY’S STATIONERY OFFICE £2.85 net existing with mandatory scales which alreadytake account ofmany of the varied circumstances of individual jobs and where fees may be varied with the agree- ment of the professional body. But the pressure on architects to reduce fees is yery strong in view of the cyclical nature of the demand for their services. A switch from mandatory to recommended status for the RIBA scales would be interpreted as an invitation to negotiate by most large clients with their fiscal responsibility to ratepayers or shareholders, and architects under economic pressure would be unable to resist. In such circumstances it would be difficult to hold to recommended levels and the effects of a change to recommended scales would be likely to be little different from the effects of abolishing the scales altogether. We asked the RIBA about the possibility of a change being made after a period of notice. The RIBA considered that this would not help either the individual practice or the profession as a whole to resist the increased pressure from clients which would develop in the expectation of recommended scales. Evidence of the New Architecture Movement 213. The New Architecture Movement was founded in 1975 and states that it is working to alter radically the patronage base in architecture, so that ordinary working people may exercise effective control over their environment. Its programme covers action in the three spheres of practice, education and the professional constitution. Members of the Association are drawn from al areas of architectural activity in addition to the lay public. In the former category salaried architects in private practice form the majority, though local authority officers, teachers and students are also a significant element. The Movement’s ‘contact list’ in June 1976 numbered slightly over 200 and was claimed to be rising as the movement gathered momentum. We sent a copy of its 3% » 214. The New Architecture Movement does not support the RIBA’S case, and therefore submitted its own arguments independently. The substance of the Movement's case is that the current scale fee system is not an essential ingredient of the provision of architectural Services, but is a market device procuring uni- lateral benefits to architects. The Movement criticises arguments and statistics Supporting the RIBA’s case, and considers that the public interest is severely based on a ‘descending hierarchy of priorities’ as follows: (i) abandonment of the mandatory minimum fee scale entirely; (ii) retention of the fee scale on a recommended basis; prejudiced by the fee scale’s mandatory status. It proposes changes to the system (iii) retention of the mandatory fee scale, but with the establishment of @ permanent independent agency to review the levels of the scale: sucehe angency to include at least 50 perper cent non--professioinal repre fe 215.. With the New Architecture Moyement’s co:nsent, submission to the RIBA. The RIBA made it clear to us that it did not accept the New Architecture Movement’s arguments. The RIBA says that it is con- VLianceedtathrathitheecevieewsaexpressed in the Movement’si _—Isi are unrepresenta- ey \ » 3 Ye e ] és, Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource MMC Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived John Allan Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 8.11.77 https://nam.maydayrooms.org/files/original/5cb733b7e4d795d95e3787baaf7aa036.pdf e56ba8edf33fca092d83233e840aa2d2 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Trade Unions and Architecture Description An account of the resource Themes included action on asbestos and Health &amp; Safety, and involvement with Direct Labour Organisations and Building Unions. Following comparative research of possible options, NAM encouraged unionisation of building design staffs within the private sector, negotiating the establishment of a dedicated section within TASS. Though recruitment was modest the campaign identified many of the issues around terms of employment and industrial relations that underpin the processes of architectural production. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource AJ/TASS Survey Subject The topic of the resource Draft version/s of survey Description An account of the resource ee 4. INCOMES AND CONDITIONS OF EMPLOYMENT SURVEY Ds NEXT MEETING(S) 6) Motion 7) <A.O.B. The incomes survey sponsored by T.A.S.S./B.D.S. which appeared in the AJ recently is to appear again in the magazine "Building" on March 16 and members are urged to draw this to the attention of Colleagues who did not complete the AJ form.However, it’s still not too late to do so, since collation of returns will now be delayed until the appearance of the census in "Building". With the results of the survey anticipated it is intended to devote the next couple of meetings to discussions on pay and conditions of employment generally and a possible role for T.A.S.S./ B.D.S. in improving these in design offices. All members should make a special effort to attend to ensure the widest-possible range of reported office experiences gives the most clear overall picture; At the next branch meeting to be held on March 20 Mike Moxley, S.A.G. member and one of six R.I.B.A. members who drew up the recent R.I.B.A. approved contract of employment will open a discussion _ on its content and intentions. March Branch Meeting : Tuesday 20 March at 6.30 p.m. (Promptly) in Polytechnic of Central London Union, 104-108 Bolsover street, London W1. AGENDA: 43 "Do Building Professionals need a contract of employment" A discussion to be opened by Mike Moxley R.I.B.A 2) Office reports and discussion 3) Divisional Conference report. 4) N.A.C. report i) Branch Officers! reports. Building Design Staii London Branch Secretary : 2B Oakhill Road, SW15 BRANCH BULLETIN - MARCH 1979 13 REPORT ON FEBRUARY BRANCH MEETING: Following the January meetings' discussion on the Labour party's policy document, "Building Britain's Future", the February meeting was held at the House of Commons to allow Bob Bean M.P. to give members a first hand account of the Labour Party's real intentions. A U.C.A.T.T. sponsored.M.P., directly involved in the preparation of the document, Bob Bean spoke at length on all the issues it concerned and not only the controversial question of possible nationalization of major contractors. He implied however that nationalization was no real alternative to employers "putting their own house in order" aver such issues as safety standards and de-casualization of the industry. Indeed he made it plain that, contrary to CABIN'S reports, there was no suggestion of widespread nationalization and that no labour government would ever adopt such a policy. and” the . rmuleation--of.such.a polley.is.20 be the. subjecs,.of, future branch activity? 2s ARCUK ELECTIONS Members will be pleased to learn that all six of its members who stood for election to the A.R.C.U.K. Council were successful together with the Leeds T.A.S.S. member, Ian Todd. Though A.R.C.U.K. is at present a body representing mainly registered architects it is in the interests of all building design staffs that their unions be represented on it. 3. N.A.C. MEMBERSHIP There is now a vacancy on the T.A.S.S./BDS National Advisory Council and any branch member interested in filling this vacancy should contact the branch secretary. He confessed that the document had been prepared without any real involvement from the design side shortcoming was the subject of several of the industry and this members questions. However he welcomed advice from design staff within the labour movement The questions that followed indicated that many members, while welcoming much of the document, flet that the proposals were in some respects not radical enough. In particular some members felt that emphasis in the document on standardization failed to use the example of direct labour organizations as a platform from which to build an alternative stronger line on nationalization should have been adopted. was overstressed; that it building industry and that a FTAA, VowkeGinger /F0.bop. Gy SqWea hoff6, al)i)NHi iif PR } {f , |63 ah =eo BAA ; Leth ad te retieDN aL:He 2{}¢ LL Lei cL MLS EEALthyPhPT TDM)LaeATeie, | The following motion was received by the Branch Secretary and has been included on the Agenda in accordance with is listed here verbatim. Before being discussed, Standing Order Standing Order No. 16, and be proposed and seconded by members If the motion is passed it will be Committee and the Divisional Council No. 11 requires that motions at the meeting. > forwarded to the Executive for their consideration. "This branch calls upon the Labour Government to pursue a policy towards the construction industry which : 4) Encourages worker participation and public accommtability in the running of the construction industry" 1) 2) Ensures a continuity of work flow to the industry to provide stability of employment and training opportunities. 3) Encourages the application of standards -of safety and performance in the design of buildings without restricting their flexibility or the visual variety of the built Encourages the reintergration of the design and construction sides of the industry both in the process of awarding and administrating contracts and in the education background to the work forces. environment, This general meeting is called under the provisions of Rule 16e, Should the quorum required for general meetings of the branch not be in attendance the Branch Council may, if a quorum of the Branch Council is present, deal with the business down for consideration by the branch general meeting, and if this course is decided upon, then those members of the Branch who were present for the General Meeting shall be co-opted for that business with full voting powers. Where any motions and amendments for the consideration of the Representative Council are passed by a Branch Council under the provisions of this rule a copy of the notice concerning the general meeting shall be forwarded by the Branch Secretary for the attention of the Standing Orders Committee. The SOC shall not include on the agenda of the RC any such motion or amendment unless the notice calling the general meeting specifically stated the nature of the motion or the amendment. Similarly when the Branch Council under the Provisions of this rule deals with the voting for Divisional President, DC Sec, EC or Dept.EC Member, Nat Womans Sub-Committee Rep, or NWSC Deputy Rep., a copy of the notice calling the general meeting shall be forwarded to the DC Secretary together with the record of branch voting. If the notice of meeting does not include this item of business the vote of the branch shall be disregarded by the Divisional Council. tailects Nor is the pvor architect Seaba? offwithhiscor- chents National to attract a higher than usual proportion of first-time theatre goers. For newcomers to the National, respohse' in:the Olivier audi-: torium where the design con- centrated on sight lines at the expense of the essential rapport between audience and actors. They describe the “Wimbledon” effect in the Lyttelton, -with a’ stage so wide in relation to ‘audi torium depth, that the audiences , are vigorously exe fesine their neck muscles to follow the action. Averting their eyes from the inert back stage technology, they will take you to the tiny con- erete cells that serve as dressing rooms, set round a corrtyard so large that a visit .» a colleague turns into a route march. The actors’ complaints are interminable; the audiences are less articulate. After all it is ‘the policy of the tectural prize. Had the users been the judges “this elegant concrete addition to London's riverside skyline” would cer- tainly have got the wooden spoon. ° Actors and their audiences are its.main users. The actors deplore the time ,lag of discreetly ¥ obscure signs, “the carefully hidden: ticket collection’ and informa- tion points under claustro- ,Phobically low ceilings com-’ ‘pound the visual ‘confusion. rape The best efs usually come from sé who build little and rey, ike muluiple retailers 67? from. mnoaate wi interest. ft % y 16 rycatSe o—pisturebyDonMcPhee... ALL ‘strained fall out with our It isn't their fault. ve otter designers they are better than their brief; uch ots usually abysmal. e trouble is that so few us are competent do brief apchitect, ; take houses. Most of' us d claim famuharity with louse or two. But huw uy of us, have ‘actually it one, and have tried to ‘slate experience into a eo brief ? Remember “Mr gs builds his Dream "and how poor Mrs dings added a flower Kk dn her porch and got i! tor extras for $10,000? yway, dnost house building ry speculative builders and a! authorities whuse eat) Hriefs demand wrence to standards, themselves but biting to creative Most of the time tu Copy something can be good or nding on the made. me Ome. ) i you oy aedga nee ofice at Grove An architect is only as good as or orewers. But unless build- ing itself is their business, even the most dynamic organisations are unlikeltyo need new factories or offices very often. Their skills in ational HPs eive, The‘ build- ing, does look good from the top of an. Embankment bus; briefing architects are bound bo grow rusty. Indeed, they often commit millions toe architecture with an insows! ciance which is totally incon- sistent with their usual hard- nosed control of their money, and which scares their pei: tect rigid. going, « -Bian Boylan,. an ‘ancliiiart In this state of mind the architect needs a well- developed ego to draw a bow at a venture — choosing from and copying existing models is easier, and proba- ‘bly cheaper. But when the ‘building has no. models he is forced to thrash around for a brief, and too often designs to a set of generalised social and aesthetic considerations; which means designing: to please other archite Unfortunately he js encouraged this way, because the accolades (like those given to many professionals)- are awarded by his own kind — other architects. ésigned an’ order office in CraWley; Surrey, for BOC, the company ‘that’ supplies gas cylinders’ for. welding. He too had, a generalised brief but luckily he discovered that the bat ing ‘was to be used: for The National Theatre is a case in point. A large, expen- sive, one-off building, it has been awarded a major archi- not: be set on the wood edge with . windows, and _ bird tables designed'to accom- It may not win any architec- What uot can do ‘all right if you pretae looking lat .townscapes _ ‘theatre- deliberately unconstrained by quale ‘ations, récently only 27: people. So he and his’:team ‘talked to all of them, ‘and at some length: not, their: representatives, or thejr. managers, but each and évery person.’ The ‘brief, in consequence, was- uniquely enriched and ‘particularised. thing (except the lavatories) Kor ‘example, \they dis- happens in one open uncon- covered that’ for some years’ and much more the; ‘loaders, -in.-the rest. useable space. periods between humping There are many _ other heavy ‘gas cylinders, had details which a sympathetic ‘developed a. serious, interest company, its interested in studying the wild life in employees, and a -conse- :wood which bordered the quently, well-briefed architect site. There was ‘no reason have managed to incorporate why the new building should into this satisfying building. tural prizes, but it is an Peter Gorb on desi5gn ' where ahiey are, ,Suppose to’ To this is added the inescapa- ble cacophony of the: foyer performers and the. aifline terminal announcements. The poor first-time’ ‘visitor must long for the certitude of Pad- dington Station; or Milan Cathedral, lange ‘buildings designed with the needs |of the newcomer in mind.’ °' that way. As aresult every- It is disappointing. tdo, ‘to queue for a drink, and dis. cover that the nearest sand- wich is two foyer levels and another queue away. 'Or to try and reach the terrace tables with a trayful of food through an inn? door. Not much more from the teriaccs Of course the priority in. the design brief was fora national monument mr a Opject lesson on how not to his brief fall outwith your architect. ‘‘ the building inside and out is a _ bewildering obstacle course of apparently unrelated levels reached dy Alice in Wonderland: stair- cases pointing away ous created a glass-clad building the architect had to protect it from the gas ylinders which. have a habit of toppling over; prison like guard rails were discarded in favour of a sloping bank of grass which in any case. enhanced the rural nature of the pbuilding. But perhaps the greatest breakthrough came at the organisational level. The expectation of local manage- ment was for a traditional building which reflected functional separation; offices from canteens, blue collar from white collar workers, and so forth: The inquiry revealed that the magnificent twenty seven didn't want it Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource NAM Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived John Allan Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1979/80