AMERICA
real estate
housing
sustainability
Karrie Jacobs
BUILDING SKIN
In the current boom-and-bust climate,
houses have become financial abstractions.
From the Betsy Ross
House to Your House
CORE
Philadelphia, a city of tiny row houses, might be just the place to
build a new version of the American dream: green and affordable.
SLEEPING LOFT
INDOOR/OUTDOOR LIVING
Above: An axonometric diagram of the main
elements of the 100K House, designed by
Interface Studio Architects. Below: Floor plans
of the structure. Bottom right: The proposed
site for the house. Philadelphia has an estimated 25,000 vacant lots within the city limits.
Sleeping loft
Open to below
SECOND FLOOR
Early one morning a couple of months ago, I sat alone in a radio studio
in Manhattan taping a discussion for the BBC about the housing bust.
The other participants were economists, one in a studio in New Haven,
the other in Washington, D.C. The moderator was somewhere in London.
My role was to inject a note of humanity into a conversation focused
largely on the global economic impact of bundling so many dodgy
mortgages into formerly solid investment vehicles. Later, out on the
street, I pondered the weirdness of that discussion. Eventually, I realized that we were talking about housing and the effect of the housing
slump on the economy, but we weren’t talking about houses.
This suddenly struck me as precisely the problem. In the current
boom-and-bust climate, houses—the actual places where people live—
have become financial abstractions, like shares of stock. It’s as if we
live simultaneously in two worlds: one in which housing exists to
keep an economy driven by consumption from crumbling,
and one in which houses exist to keep people warm, safe,
dry, and secure.
But if housing is the problem, then houses are the solution. And it was houses—actual structures with floors, walls,
and ceilings—that were the subject of a more recent conventional discussion I had in person, over coffee. This time I was in
Philadelphia, a city of 1. 5 million that has lost 26 percent of its population since the 1960s, where there are some 40,000 abandoned properties. That figure, according to architect Brian Phillips, includes about
25,000 vacant lots.
Phillips’s firm, Interface Studio Architects, is located in a building that
originally belonged to a plumbing-fixture manufacturer. The surrounding neighborhood, South Kensington, is just north of the Northern Liberties, an area that in recent years has emerged as Philly’s version of
Brooklyn’s Williamsburg. Founded three years ago by Phillips—a 36-
year-old Penn graduate who has paid his dues at the large firm Wallace,
Roberts & Todd—Interface is typical of many young firms around the
country: Modernist in style and idealistic in spirit. “We were really interested from the get-go in Philadelphia’s changing continued on page 53
Live/work
Dining
area
Courtesy Interface Studio Architects
FIRST FLOOR