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Summer house Fellner Geroldgasse

A charred mono­lith on the edge of the Vien­na Woods.
A house for sum­mer and par­tial win­ter use was built on a floor area of 35m². The client intends to use the house alter­nate­ly with his near­by apart­ment for liv­ing and work­ing as a free­lance graph­ic design­er.

Geroldgasse, Michaelaw­iese, 1170 Vien­na / 2011
Client: pri­vate

/ From the unconstrained life /

A lit­tle house that could fit into the liv­ing room bel­ly of a stan­dard sub­ur­ban vil­la, charred on the out­side and nest­ed on the inside; an unsci­en­tif­ic expe­ri­ence report from the edge of the Vien­na Woods.

Is a new set­tler move­ment dawn­ing between Kritzen­dorf and Wil­helmi­nen­berg? Pota­toes are no longer grown to defy short­ages as they were 100 years ago. But the need for a sim­ple and afford­able lit­tle house on the out­skirts of the city, with a patch of gar­den in front of it, has remained. Unfor­tu­nate­ly, you are usu­al­ly depen­dent on suc­ces­sion in order to set­tle accord­ing­ly. The allot­ment gar­den sites are now trad­ed at hor­ren­dous prices.
Even the first encoun­ters have an influ­ence on the house lat­er on. There was no father-moth­er-child fam­i­ly sit­ting oppo­site us at the meet­ing table in our office. A self-employed graph­ic design­er and part-time father of a young daugh­ter took over the prop­er­ty from his par­ents, which is locat­ed in a hid­den Vien­na Woods val­ley in the out­go­ing 17th dis­trict. As an exam­ple, he showed us pho­tos of a pret­ty and run-down sum­mer house in Döbling, built in the style of Josef Frank, which he did not get after much hes­i­ta­tion. Now he pre­ferred a new build­ing, but the mem­o­ry of the lost oppor­tu­ni­ty was still vivid.

Split living

If you think of every­day liv­ing as more of a patch­work, then many things are con­ceiv­able. The exist­ing apart­ment had become cramped, so a gar­den and a small house were added to it. The indi­vid­ual com­po­nents are only 15 min­utes apart and togeth­er they almost form a whole. We go back and forth by bike, Ves­pa and car, depend­ing on the mood and the sun, or because the music les­son end­ed ear­li­er. It was­n’t an eremitic retreat or a long­ing move to the coun­try, cat­e­gories I would have made up for it accord­ing to my habit. Prac­ti­cal rea­sons weighed in here, inter­min­gling and over­lap­ping. The kinder­garten remains the same, no suit­case has to be packed and there will be real sand in the sand­pit.

What applies to life plans also applies to archi­tec­ture: the house and gar­den must do more than pose stiffly and impres­sive­ly for a cheer­ful group pic­ture. The smile should be infor­mal. At the sec­ond meet­ing, we held our usu­al safe­ty brief­ing, threat­ened high con­struc­tion costs and offered lean food: that suit­ed the client just fine.

He had picked up the old wall clock that had been hang­ing in the musty con­tain­er that had to make way for our lit­tle house and want­ed to hang it up again in the same place in the new house. Time would not stand still and the clock would tick on, some­how every­thing remained the same. My sis­ter once jok­ing­ly called it a granny house.

The crip­pled birch had to be built around, result­ing in the angled shape of the cor­ner of the house with the ter­race in front of it.

Inspired by an old Japan­ese wood preser­va­tion tech­nique, the larch boards for the exte­ri­or façade were charred on the sur­face. The shim­mer­ing black blends in well with the wall of bare tree trunks that ris­es up just behind the house. Futur­ol­o­gist Matthias Horx lives not far away and is said to have expressed his amaze­ment at the recent­ly com­plet­ed façade while jog­ging. We were not told whether it con­tained any hints about the near future.

The drawers inside

Oth­er­wise, the lit­tle house is not much use as a hermit’s hut, the neigh­bor­ing build­ings are in close prox­im­i­ty and the usu­al elbow check from a dis­tance of three meters is miss­ing here. The build­ing was not allowed to take up more than 35m² of floor space and was strict­ly lim­it­ed in height to 5 meters. This is not pos­si­ble with the usu­al room heights, which is why the upper floor is sig­nif­i­cant­ly low­er at 2.05 meters and even less where the slope of the flat roof slopes down­wards. When the client’s 15 soc­cer friends were watch­ing a game on TV, the house must have stretched mild­ly.

In the cen­ter of the house, the stair­case, kitch­enette and san­i­tary room form a core around which the liv­ing areas are spread out. The liv­ing area, the kitchen and din­ing area, through the nar­row cor­ri­dor past the entrance door and the start of the wood­en stair­case oppo­site, con­tin­u­ing in a cir­cle past the slid­ing door with show­er and toi­let behind it, until you are back in the liv­ing area. A house where you can play tag. Above the seat­ing area of the liv­ing area, the vol­ume is open and unde­vel­oped as a so-called air space. When some­one is sit­ting in an arm­chair down­stairs and some­one is work­ing at a desk upstairs, they con­verse as if they were in neigh­bor­ing rooms, only on top of each oth­er.

The din­ing table is high­er than usu­al and also serves as a work­top giv­en the lim­it­ed cook­ing sur­face. It is framed by a bench made of spruce pan­els, with kitchen uten­sils stored under the seat. If you fold the large win­dow out­wards, you can sit on the bench almost as if you were out­side next to the ter­race.

The space behind the entrance door is just wide enough to hold a key in one hand and a shop­ping bag in the oth­er.

Dur­ing the day, the show­er and toi­let are fold­ed up in a nar­row room next to the stair­case. In the evening and in the morn­ing, part of the side wall can be slid open and anoth­er wall sur­face can be fold­ed through 90 degrees like a revolv­ing door, open­ing up the cham­ber and extend­ing beyond the cor­ri­dor to the out­er glaz­ing, cre­at­ing a real bath­room. The glass there is ribbed as a pri­va­cy screen to the neigh­bor­ing house. A room that makes itself as big as the day demands of it. Like a draw­er that is pulled open because some­thing needs to be done.

Today we would make the stairs to the top nar­row­er, since we have noticed that you uncon­scious­ly turn your hips slight­ly at an angle when climb­ing stairs when it is nar­row. The 75 cm was too gen­er­ous. Large objects are lift­ed up through the air.

A gallery leads upstairs to the two sleep­ing alcoves like a nar­row foot­bridge. Only the lit­tle daughter’s bed is sep­a­rat­ed by a door; the own­er sleeps behind a cur­tain made of rough­ly bead­ed felt fab­ric. What remains of the gallery is tak­en up by a nar­row desk. Togeth­er with the open shelves, it pre­vents peo­ple from falling down into the liv­ing area. Because the daugh­ter is still very young, cor­ru­gat­ed sheets made of trans­par­ent plas­tic have been screwed in front of it for the time being.

From here you can look out through the large panoram­ic win­dow onto the for­est ridge of the adja­cent hill. Only at night does a yel­low­ish glow reveal the near­by city. But too much of a view can be bad for the work, the client then low­ers the fab­ric blinds dur­ing the day, the for­est has dis­ap­peared and a dim light remains over the air­space. In the face of the com­put­er work­er, the white-pale glow of the large-for­mat screen blends in, a scene that has almost eremitic fea­tures.

Summer shower and freezing rain

We bor­rowed an exten­sion lad­der from the neigh­bors because we want­ed to pho­to­graph the house against the slop­ing hill­side at the same height. For there are few things that the archi­tec­tur­al pho­tog­ra­ph­er fears as much as falling lines, as if that were the utmost that could go out of kil­ter in the world. With the rain-soaked and earthy slope, it would have been con­ceiv­able for the archi­tec­tur­al pho­tog­ra­ph­er to fall, but every­thing went well and the pho­tog­ra­ph­er did­n’t fall off the lad­der. Oth­er­wise the fruit trees are har­vest­ed with these lad­ders and the neigh­bors also point­ed out to us with con­cern that nei­ther the apples nor the pears were ripe for har­vest­ing.

The gar­den archi­tects have laid dark peb­bles around the out­door show­er. They turn a deep black col­or when they get wet. When we were sur­prised by a hail­storm while tak­ing pho­tos, a watery lay­er of slip­pery ice balls formed over the black peb­bles. The hail had announced itself when the cars of the neigh­bor­ing hous­es were cov­ered with tar­pau­lins one by one ear­ly in the evening. Only ours remained uncov­ered.

After dis­cus­sions about how to make the charred facade boards, we once jok­ing­ly made a list of burn­ing hous­es in film and lit­er­a­ture. My favorite exam­ple: at the end of Andrei Tarkovsky’s film Vic­tims, the sum­mer house burns down in a sin­gle, con­tin­u­ous shot 20 min­utes long. But the cam­era did­n’t work on the first shoot, so the house had to be rebuilt and the fire repeat­ed, which drove the project to the brink of ruin.

If there was a doc­trine in recent years accord­ing to which the new and old ele­ments of monas­ter­ies, par­lia­men­tary build­ings and roof exten­sions must be strict­ly sep­a­rat­ed from each oth­er, a rule sim­ple enough to be prac­ti­cal and bind­ing for large offices and local coun­cils, this doc­trine did not apply to this house, which was not a con­ver­sion at all. Every­thing here was new and noth­ing had to be neat­ly sep­a­rat­ed from the exist­ing build­ing. As a 30-year-old plan­ner, my sis­ter was not yet an old bag and nei­ther was the client, so the house did­n’t have to appear lift­ed or some­how sprayed on.

I urged the pho­tog­ra­ph­er to fol­low me into the woods behind the cot­tage, as I expect­ed to get a mean­ing­ful view of the house from there, framed between the thick­et of trunks. I had some­thing of the poet­ry of Russ­ian birch trunks in mind, as they appear in oth­er Tarkovsky films. But as is so often the case, imag­i­na­tion and real­i­ty did not match. The photographer’s hes­i­ta­tion had been jus­ti­fied, the view was no good, it looked banal and the house was obscured. Only our shoes got dirty in the slip­pery under­growth and we hoped not to step in dog excre­ment.

Gre­gor Schu­berth, March 2012

House and being, view from the open bath­room into the gar­den; plas­ticine pic­ture 55x40cm