Op-Ed: Why ADUs Are A Great Benefit To NE Portland

By Lucas Gray

Accessory Dwelling Units, or ADUs, are secondary residences that can be built on any residential property in Portland. As housing costs continue to rise, many neighbors search for affordable housing for themselves or loved ones and ADUs can provide wonderful places to live while being much cheaper than buying a house in today’s market. They are also great ways to earn rental income for homeowners, potentially allowing people to stay on their property even if the neighborhood gets more expensive. In short, ADUs are great investments that help build wealth and provide much needed housing. They can be an important part of creating diverse and thriving communities.

We have been working in NE Portland over the past five years to help people navigate the design, permitting and construction process for ADUs. We find ADUs to be great ways to address our housing shortage, while preserving the neighborhood character that we all enjoy.

Here are a few reasons we think ADUs are a great fit for Portland and something that everyone should consider adding to their property:

• ADUs create opportunities to provide housing while preserving neighborhood character.

• ADUs are sustainable - by doubling down on residential areas with existing infrastructure and services (preventing urban sprawl).

• ADUs give homeowners an opportunity to capitalize on their current investment (their property) and build wealth, provide passive income, and help people plan for retirement.

• ADUs allow for multi-generational living and aging-in-place

• ADUs are a popular way to downsize while remaining in the community you’ve grown to love.

Most of the time ADUs are detached buildings (like a backyard cottage), but an ADU can also be created within a renovated basement, attic, or garage. Each property and family is unique, so we work with our clients to talk through all of the options available and find the best solution to their situation - based on budget, existing conditions of the property, and what their goal is for the new structure.

Like any investment, there are associated are costs. ADUs are not cheap - we find they cost between $200,000 and $300,000 in the Portland market, depending on size, complexity, finishes, etc. However, some more luxurious projects have come in well above that range. This cost is relatively similar regardless of whether you are building new or renovating. Renovating basement or garages into an ADU is not necessarily cheaper than a new building, as often it is more complex to work within an existing structure. In general, new, detached, ADUs are the simplest to build but we have worked on all sorts of ADUs to date.

We are passionate about ADUs as they can be economic, social and environmentally sustainable housing opportunities. If you have any questions or are considering building an ADU, we offer a range of free resources on this website and even sell ADU Plans for those looking for a cheaper faster way to get an ADU project started.

Design Inspiration: 4 Custom Homes We Love

As part of our design process we are continuously searching out other projects that inspire us. We use precedents to see how architects that we admire address similar challenges of designing custom homes. We look for creative uses of materials and try to understand how things were detailed. We look for layouts and forms that could be relevant to projects we are working on. Precedent studies are also helpful to share with our clients to learn what they like and challenge preconceived ideas for what a home can be. Below are four homes designed by some of our favorite residential architects that inspire us. These are projects that we find are incredibly beautiful and reflect some of our design values.

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Bates Masi Architects - Underhill House

There are three big reasons why I love this house: natural materials, strong connection to the outdoors, and the courtyards. The architects did an incredible job at blurring the lines between interior and exterior space, with sliding doors that open the corners of the rooms, making the structure dissolve into the surroundings. The courtyards that puncture through the house bring light and nature deep into the flow of the living spaces. Despite using a traditional material, cedar shingles, they created an undeniably contemporary design. The warping forms of the roofs, large window and door openings, and corner openings reinforce that this is a contemporary home while the shingles harken back to the traditions of the area. This is a superb design that reflects a lot of our design values: materiality, connection to nature, and craftsmanship.

Cutler Anderson - Beaux Arts Residence

This house is beautifully integrated into the landscape with the walls of glass making the living spaces feel like they are outdoors. I love the celebration of the exposed structure and the fact that the interior is all natural wood - no drywall to be found. Elevating the roof of the living spaces give it a lofty feel and the clerestory windows bring in natural light from all sides - accentuating the connection to the outdoors and the cycles of the days and season.

Olson Kundig - Delta Shelter

A project I’ve admired for years, the Delta Shelter is a perfect example of how great design can come in a small package. Bigger doesn’t mean better and this shows that quality transcends quantity. The setting is incredibly beautiful and the architecture compliments the surroundings. And of course, this project has the Olson Kundig trademark of mechanical gears that transform the structure into something dynamic. In this case, wheels, gears, and chains allows the entire home to be opened up or closed down to protect the expansive windows that connect the interior with views to the surrounding forested mountains. I also love the simple material palette of steel structure and wooden infill panels - again, no drywall is used allowing the interior to have the warmth and texture of natural wood permeate the space.

Glenn Murcutt - Fredericks / White House

I was lucky enough to participate in the Glenn Murcutt International Masters Class back in 2008. It was an incredible experience studying with Pritzker Prize winner Glenn Murcutt along with a handful of other incredible australian architects. It was an intensive two-week design studio and during my time there we were also able to visit a few completed houses designed by the teachers. This one, the Fredericks/White House, was particularly inspiring in the way Mr. Murcutt was able to take standard industrial materials to wrap a house that exudes suck warmth on the interiors. The simple form allows for the details of the interior to be the driving force behind the design. The architecture is further informed by its response to the local climate, with sun shades, indoor-outdoor rooms, and water collection all becoming an integral part of the design expression. The photos below are a few that I took on my trip. They aren’t great and don’t fully capture the beauty of this project.

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The common theme in these projects and in our own work is the importance the landscape has in the quality of these homes. Blurring the lines between indoors and outdoors, integrating the homes into the surroundings, and taking advantage of borrowed views are all vital to creating beautiful residential projects. We hope that these projects inspire you as much as they have us. And if these projects resonate with you, please reach out as we would love to work with you to craft beautiful spaces that are warm, inviting, inspiring, and respond to the natural world around us.

Reflections on Year 1 in New York City

A new city, a new home, a new place to explore.

It was a strange time to move to New York. We arrived on April 1st, 2020, flying on an empty plane between empty airports, at the peak of the first wave of the Coronavirus pandemic. At the time we were unsure if we made the right decision, but looking back in many ways it worked out for the best. Shortly after our arrival, cases plummeted in NYC as the pandemic surged in other parts of the country. Most of the people here took it seriously and the local government worked hard to educate people and implement new rules to help limit the impact of the disease. Masks were prevalent everywhere we went, and we changed our lifestyle to stay as safe as possible. Our days meant working from home, cooking from home, and long masked walks through our new home city, exploring new neighborhoods.

Rather than the hectic energy of the big city - the rushing crowds, honking cars, street vendors, and rumble of subways - we were greeted with empty streets, closed stores, and a shortage of toilet paper. It was surreal to wander through the streets of Manhattan, literally walking in the road to avoid people on the narrow sidewalks thanks to the lack of cars. The city was quiet - one of the things that struck us the most. We could hear birds singing in the morning. There were more pedestrians and bikers than cars and it had a dramatic impact on the sounds of the city.

Walking north, up the center of 5th avenue.

Perhaps a once in a lifetime opportunity: Times Square with no crowds or cars. Simply two bikers amongst the towers and billboards.

The absence of cars was striking. It made urban spaces incredibly pleasant. Streets were calm and safe. Parks were dominated by the sounds of nature rather than the traffic surrounding them. Walking and Biking became the primary form of transportation as people stayed away from the subway and most stuck close to home. We saw adults learning to ride a bike for the first time using the Citibike bike share system on the streets of Brooklyn. Sidewalks became less cramped because people could safely spill out into the streets.

Parks became centers of community life until the Mayor finally agreed to close some select neighborhood streets for cars so people had more space. Socially distanced neighborhood events started popping up with masked bands and DJs playing impromptu concerts. Restaurants could finally put tables out in the street to stay in business, and families would show up with picnics and games and set up where once there was just 4 lanes of traffic. As the weather warmed up and spring turned to Summer the city started feeling more like a city again, as fear subsided and people started to venture out and use urban spaces.

Every weekend they would block off Vanderbilt Ave to cars and it would become an open street for people, bikes, restaurants, and music. Hopefully this transformation outlasts the pandemic.

It has been a fascinating time to be here. Watching the city rapidly evolve and adjust as new information about the virus was balanced with the needs of millions of people demonstrated how flexible we could be and how quickly we can make changes to the built environment. We don’t need to waste years in committees, running lengthy and fruitless community engagement workshops, and haggling with politicians. We don’t need to invest millions of dollars to build new infrastructure. We need to be nimble. Experimentation should be celebrated. Failure should be tolerated as it becomes lessons learned to make the next projects better. Change doesn’t need to cost millions when some paint, planters, and barricades can make a traffic clogged street into a linear park for a few hundred dollars.

I hope some of the great changes we saw in the city this year aren’t fleeting responses to the pandemic and instead stick around long after the vaccine makes it safe to gather again. I hope people saw how great it was to have safe streets for walking and biking. I hope most people realized that birdsongs sound better than car horns when waking up. I hope people saw that Vanderbilt (or their local closed streets) on the weekends could be a celebration of community and that is a better use of space than as a thoroughfare for automobiles.

Ultimately, I hope that the sacrifices we made as individuals, as a community, as a city, and as a country to get through the pandemic can lead to positive changes to the places and spaces we call home.

What Makes a City Beautiful?

This is a question I often ponder as I travel and visit cities throughout the world. Is it the surrounding landscape - like the snow capped mountains, rivers, lakes, and oceans? Is it the awe inspiring skyscrapers or beautiful old churches? Or could it be something else - perhaps a more human scale built environment, or widespread parks, trees and other green spaces?

On a recent trip around the world I visited a vast range of urban conditions that were often disheartening, sometimes stunning and yet often enough too similar. From Japan to Russia and on to Europe, cities tended to blend from one to another losing the unique qualities of regional architecture. Landscapes were too often obscured by towers or tucked away below roads, bridges, buildings and other concrete monstrosities. Skyscrapers are all too familiar, boasting smooth glass facades while towering over adjacent concrete apartment blocks. Whether in Tokyo, Shanghai, Sydney or Toronto the buildings didn't reveal the uniqueness of the local culture, climate, or history.

I look at cities that celebrate their unique conditions and that is where I find beauty. Berlin celebrating the river Spree and its many canals lined with parks and grand public buildings pops into my mind as a beautiful urban environment. Hong Kong with its narrow streets, stunning architectural skyline backed by a beautiful mountains, and magnificent views of the harbor filled with boats is another example of a city that is complementing the grandeur of its environment.

Too often in America, cities turn their back on their environment. Elevated roads and rail yards separate downtown districts from adjacent lakes, rivers, or coastlines. Buildings rely on air conditioning and other mechanical systems in order to ignore rather than celebrate the influence of the climate. Other cities blessed with an abundance of stunning landscapes lack great architecture - Portland and Vancouver pop into mind. Montreal turns it back to the St Lawrence River. Bangkok has replaced the majority of its hundreds of canals with roads. At least Sydney has embraced its water front and historic harbors.

I know there is not an easy answer to this question. Cities are huge complex entities that grow and morph over hundreds of years. I believe that urban planning and architecture that celebrates the local climate, landscape, materiality, and culture is a step in the right direction but too often overlooked.

Exploring Architecture All Over the World

Architecture Firm Owner, Lucas Gray, Assoc. AIA, shares his experiences working abroad, starting his firm with two partners, and discovering his own career path.

From Portland to New York City

I moved to New York!

After 10+ years living in Portland, Oregon, I am relocating to New York City.

My wife got a job at Sidewalk Labs, and she will be working to bring smart timber cities to the world. I sold my shares of Propel Studio Architecture to my business partners, and will be looking for new architecture/design/development opportunities once we arrive in NY (Let me know if you have any job leads). In the meantime, I'll be occasionally updating Talkitect as I get inspired, coordinating our move, managing a renovation to our condo in Portland, and working with students at the PSU Center for Public Interest Design to get one of their prototype ADU designs permitted and build.

There are many aspects of this move that excite me as I will be able to explore a new city, make new friends, wander through new neighborhoods, eat great food, experience great architecture, and pursue new career opportunities. However, one small thing that will kick off this adventure is a three day train ride from PDX>NYC. 10 years ago I moved to Oregon from Albany, NY by train, and I'll be making the round trip complete in a few weeks when I take an Amtrak Sleeper car back to the east coast. Three days with nothing to do by read, watch the incredible American landscape roll by, and disconnect will be wonderful way to mentally reset as we make this transition.

If you are ever traveling through New York and would like to meet up, please let me know.

Visualizing A Decade Of Change In The Built Environment

The movement of shadows is noticeable over the course of a day. Seasonal change is visible over a few months. However, urban scale change takes many years or decades to see the impact of new construction. The map above visualizes the newly developed land over the past decade. Often it is hard to comprehend just how much the city or town we live in evolves over time because of the slow pace of development. That is what makes the map and the images in articles like this, so fascinating. By stitching together before and after images over 10 years, it visualizes just how much some areas of the country have transformed over the past decade.

I encourage you to click the link to the article and scroll through the various topics that discuss themes of the decade of transformation in america.

Change can seem slow. A new building rises, one floor at a time. A new subdivision breaks ground with two homes, and then four. A new transit line is planned, and years pass. What it all adds up to can be hard to see.

- A Decade of Urban Transformation, Seen From Above

One quick takeaway is how these transformations are related to our growing climate crisis. You can see green yards and pools pop up in the dessert, farmland scraped clean for suburban sprawl, and giant data centers replace forest. Most of this development is making matters worse and not the sort of development we need to see in order to combat climate change.

At least some of the image show densification of urban areas, replacing parking lots with new housing, and some infrastructure, like the Tilikum Crossing in Portland, that is dedicated to public transit hopefully helping us more away from car-centric lifestyles. Let's hope that more of this sort of change is what we see in the decade to come.