systematic elimination of all that does not contribute to the intended func-
tion of a composition. In the case of residential architecture, everything not
enhancing the quality of life within a dwelling must go. Anything not working
to this end works against it. Extra bathrooms, bedrooms, gables and extra
space require extra money, time and energy from the occupant(s). Super-
fluous luxury items are a burden. A simple home, unfettered by extraneous
gadgets, is the most effective labor-saving device there is.
Subtractive design is used in disciplines ranging from industrial design to civil
engineering. In machine design, its primary purpose is demonstrated with
particular clarity. The more parts there are in a piece of machinery, the more
inefficient it will be. This is no less true of a home than it is of an engine.
Remembering Common Sense
Most of our new houses are really not designed at all, but assembled without
much thought for their ultimate composition. Architects seldom have anything
to do with the process. Instead, a team of marketing engineers comes up
with a product that will bring in more money at less cost to the developer. The
team’s job is to devise a cheap structure that people will actually pay good
money for. Low-grade, vinyl siding, ornamental gables and asphalt shingles
have become their preferred medium. Adding extra square footage is about
the cheapest, easiest way there is to increase a property’s market value, so it
is applied liberally without any apparent attempt to make the additional space
particularly useful. The final product is almost always a bulky conglomeration
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of parts without cohesion — a success, by industry standards, where over-
sized invariably equals big profits.
Even when left to certified architects, the design of our homes can some-
times be less than sensible. Too frequently, a licensed architect’s self-per-
ceived need for originality takes precedence over the real needs of his or her
clients. Common sense is abandoned for frivolous displays of talent. Where
a straight gable would make the most sense, a less savvy architect will throw
in a few cantilevers and an extra dormer, just for show. Subtractive design
is abandoned for hopes of personal recognition and for what is likely to be a
very leaky house. Common sense is an inherent part of all great architecture.
Sadly, this crucial resource has become anything but common in the creation
of residential America.
Certainly the most famous example of those whose aspirations for a good
name took precedence over good design was Frank Lloyd Wright. Wright
was fond of innovative methods and extravagant forms. Those novel houses
that once earned him recognition as a peerless innovator have since earned
him another kind of reputation. Leaks are a part of many Wright houses.
Wright has become infamous not only for his abundant drips but for his im-
pudent dismissal of their significance. “If the roof doesn’t leak,” he professed,
“the architect hasn’t been creative enough.” And to those clients who dared
to complain about seepage, he would repeatedly quip, “That’s how you can
tell it’s a roof.”
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Subtractive design is integral to, and nearly synonymous with, vernacular
design. Both entail planning a home that will satisfy its inhabitants’ domestic
needs without far exceeding them. This is also what is known as common
sense. When applied to buildings, the word “vernacular” in fact means “com-
mon”: that is to say “ordinary” and “of the people.” In contrast to housing that
is made by professionals for profit or fame, vernacular housing is designed
by ordinary folks simply striving to house themselves by the most proven and
effective means available.
Webster’s defines vernacular as “architectural expression employing the
commonest forms, materials, and decorations” ( Webster’s Third New Inter-
national Dictionary, G. and C. Merriam