Radical Balance not Radical Form
My inspiration for New Native houses grew from the imbalance of
our modern environment. Surrounded by varied and fragmented impressions — empty fields, mediocre suburbs, majestic churches — I was moved to discover an integral architecture that created balance.

It is my attempt to dissuade the nonintegrated from my world;
to move beyond the contemporary fascination with anxiety and chaos. My collection of houses is an offering to that cause.

My first encounter with essence and balance was not in architecture but in jazz as played by Miles Davis and Bill Evans. Davis understood the collective pull toward beauty and soul, and he understood essence. Evans and Davis brought tenderness and highly sophisticated intelligence to what and how they played. They knew how to balance, and they knew how to reach.

The spaces and the silences of their music could be a constant schematic for my New Native house designs. Like the jazz of Davis and Evans, there is nothing extra and nothing left out.

To achieve balance, I first had to learn about frenzy. My best lesson came 20 years ago, when I designed two hard-driving experiments in space and form — the House for a cartographer and the community building for a small city. These projects revealed an impulse to create an object that was not only original but meaningful.

This impulse did not go away. The passion to create the original softened and the result was work with more sustenance than shout. A richer, more integrated design emerged that is no less expressive but more inclusive.

Integral architecture is an aspiration, and as a living vision it cannot be reduced to a formula or set of materials.

To truly achieve balance, we must consider and incorporate in our design the cycles of the natural world: temperature, rainfall, daylight and countless other conditions. This balance and integration do not require homogeneity. Every architect has his own voice; its expression will be physically unique.

In the constructed world of the New Native house there is an emulation of the natural cycles that I call interwoven space. It is an effort to reconcile the forces and conditions found within each project.

When we design spaces, there is always the question of how should it be shaped. Perhaps the space could be a simple box. Or, it could be animated and energized by a dramatic gesture.

It is my belief that a space is most integrated when it is at rest and, so, the spaces in the New Native house become simple canvases upon which the complexity of the world will play. Daylight is an example. The sun and its movements mark a constantly changing line on the walls of any room. By positioning a wall as a receptor for sunlight, the wall declares its relationship with the sun.

This, by itself, is not new in architecture. What can be a new discovery are the endless combinations of these simple relationships. Together, they express a sense of quiet beauty and lively silence. Natural materials such as glass, stone and wood can resonate with this balance when used with their essential qualities in mind.

In a New Native house, this means simpler geometries and fewer materials until the unnecessary is moved out of sight. Then, the realm beyond these materials might occasionally reveal itself. Being in such a room might stir the spirit, giving a feeling of deep balance.

The desire to balance and to integrate a building to its environment can support an awakening toward a wider and truly liberated life.