The Millrace

As an architect involved with projects great and small, I am always struck by how disparate elements come together to work towards a distant and unifying goal.  An aerial view might reveal all of the “usual suspects” – designers, engineers, consultants, carpenters, painters, pool builders etc. – scurrying around below like monomaniacal worker ants, somehow managing not to bump into one another or to come to blows.  All for one and one for all … well, with some exceptions.

A construction site is, indeed, a stimulating, fast-paced environment.  There are deadlines to keep and budgets to meet.  I owe much of my continuing architectural education to the daily interaction with varied professionals on the job site, seeing the project and its many challenges from multiple perspectives.  At ground level, the constant coordination and cacophony of construction are reminiscent of that most civilized of endeavors: a symphony orchestra making music.  Bear with me on this.

Early on, you can hear everyone tuning their instruments of service, from architects sharpening pencils and rustling outsized planning documents to the banging of truck doors and beeping of forklifts backing up, to the first tentative whine of power tools.  This uncoordinated clatter sounds dissonant at first, but the jangle and banging gradually are welded together.  The noises become part of a whole, and, as with any orchestra, the noise-makers must understand their responsibilities within the assembly.  If one system is out of tune, then the entire ensemble could falter.  If all goes well, the vision and groundwork for a symphonic masterpiece are forged.

The architects are the conductors, providing the score with detailed drawings and specifications that everyone must follow.  The contractor pounds the drum at a steady beat so the work can proceed in a timely and efficient manner.  The subcontractors are the string section, threading the wires, pipes, conduits, and framing, into project elements that eventually will fit together into a unified structure, vital infrastructure that forms the backbone of the building.  The architect’s consultants are the flutists, who fine-tune and orchestrate specialized construction activities, reviewing installations, from wiring to spas and kitchens.  The tenors, or the bass section, sing loudly during times of confusion and conflict to provide the deep tones of reason and leadership when everyone else is hitting high, emotional notes.  And there is no instrument quite like the human voice.

The music, real and metaphorical, from the most recent project I have been working on wafts over ocean surf.  The sun rising along the Rhode Island coastline brings the day and new challenges for all of us in this band of builders.  Each of us has varied skills and separate tasks, and our various roles are being conducted and coordinated yet again.  I am one of a team of architects from Centerbrook who have worked on the Ocean House; Jeff Riley is the partner in charge, and Meg Lyons and I are project managers.  After more than five years of surveying, planning, designing, redesigning, drawing, redrawing, obtaining civic approvals, and multiple internal and external reviews, there is light on the horizon.  The walls are enclosed so the string section is quieter now, as are the flutes.  The tapping of finish hammers is softer than the loud banging that dominated during framing.  Barely audible, paint brushes and airless sprayers apply coats of finish in coordinated movements.

The contractor is still banging deftly on his drum.  The beat he sets will offer the guidance and assistance for the final push to completion.  His rhythm is more important than ever.  We architects are still conducting the ensemble, but now it is assisting the individuals who will occupy the building: the hotel support staff, from the food purveyors and valets to the general manager.  The second great movement, occupancy, begins in late spring.

When the hotel opens, the orchestra’s sound will be fairly muted, as befits a commercial operation offering five-star accommodations and located within a stately residential neighborhood.  At breakfast on the east deck, one can admire the sunrise that is reflected in the water and the silhouettes of boats on the horizon.  At afternoon tea on the west deck, the sun sets gently over the calm harbor with its moored boats gently bobbing back and forth.  In every place in between those two tranquil venues – in the spa, exercise rooms, swimming pool, event spaces, dining rooms, and on the croquet and squash courts – the orchestra will continue to play movement after movement, quietly, changing subtly with the New England seasons.