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The
zoning trap Failing to take local zoning requirements
into account can wreak havoc with your project and your pocketbook.
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Nirvana?!
Wouldn't a maintenance-free building exterior be wonderful?
Don't hold your breath waiting for one.
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Asbestos
again The stuff just won't go away, but you ignore it
at your peril.
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Decisions,
decisions How writing a family Christmas letter can
help make decisions about a construction project.
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Overlays
Making sure that time doesn't try to flow backward when you
work on your old building.
THE
ZONING TRAP
In the
flurry of excitement that accompanies work on a building, it's easy
to overlook a check for zoning-related issues. Don't. It can be
costly in money and time, and sometimes can make it impossible to
execute your project.
Local zoning
ordinances and by-laws specify permitted uses, minimum lot sizes,
and the minimum distances that must be left between lot lines and
buildings--and between one building and another on the same lot.
Old buildings pre-date these laws, and often do not conform to their
requirements. This condition does not in itself represent a problem;
the buildings are normally "grandfathered" as legal non-conforming
structures.
When a
change that enlarges the envelope of such a structure is contemplated,
however, permission must be obtained from the local Board of Appeals
before a building permit can be issued. In Massachusetts, that permission
takes the form of either a variance or a special permit, depending
on how the local law is written. Variances are more difficult to
obtain than special permits, since state law specifies a number
of conditions that must be met for the Board even to consider
issuing one.
The process
is similar in both cases: A written application is filed with the
Board, a fee is paid, an advertisement is placed in the local newspaper,
and written notice is sent to all abutting property-owners. The
application normally includes drawings and written material sufficient
to show the facts of the matter.
On an appointed
date, the Board holds a hearing, at which the property owner or
his attorney presents the case, and opportunity is given for supporters
and opponents to be heard. In Massachusetts, the Board normally
votes and renders its decision at the same meeting, unless there
is a reason to continue (postpone) the hearing to a future meeting.
A month then elapses to allow for appeals to be filed before the
Board's decision becomes final and a building permit can be issued.
This process
has the potential to disrupt your project schedule if it is not
considered from the beginning: Boards of Appeals typically meet
monthly, and their agendas close two weeks or more before the meetings.
Adding the period between when the Board renders its decision and
that decision becomes final, the minimum time required
to seek and obtain a variance or special permit is two months for
a small, uncontroversial matter.
To that
time, add the uncertainty generated by the permissive wording in
most zoning laws: Even meeting all the conditions for a variance
or special permit is no guarantee that the Board will issue one;
standard zoning language states that the Board of Appeals "may"
issue the requested permission, not that they "shall" issue it.
Indeed, some towns have the reputation of being extraordinarily
reluctant to issue either variances or special permits; several
years ago one of our clients successfully obtained the first dimensional
variance that had been granted in his town in three or four
years, but only at a cost of several thousand dollars and
a six-month project delay.
This all
adds up to the critical importance of you or your architect checking
out and dealing with zoning issues as early in the project as possible.
Failure to do so can result in time, effort, and money spent on
an unbuildable project.
Necessary
disclaimer: This article represents a summary of the author's own
experience, and is not intended in any way to represent legal advice.
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NIRVANA?!
"Did you
just paint your house a few years ago, and now you have to paint
it all over again?" the seductive voice-over asks. "End the endless
cycle of painting and repainting..." How? By applying the sponsor's
oversiding product, of course. "Then you'll never have to paint
again... and the siding is guaranteed maintenance-free for as long
as you own the house!"
Our sponsor
misses (or ignores) the point, repeatedly. To begin with, "the endless
cycle of painting and repainting" is precisely what paint is about:
Paint protects a building from the weather, and is renewable. It
is intended to wear away and eventually need to be renewed, and
so protect the surface under it from damage. The alternative to
renewability is to use a weathering surface that is not
readily renewable, such as a building's wooden exterior. When compared
to replacing shingles--or clapboards--and trim, repainting all of
a sudden seems a bit less daunting.
So, what
about that maintenance-free guarantee and never having
to paint again? Alas, every product, including "maintenance-free"
oversiding, has a finite lifetime, and it will eventually wear out.
"Wearing
out" can mean many things--loss of color or surface, frank failure
of the material's weather-resistance, and much in between.
When traditional
building products do start to fail, they are readily patchable.
Individual clapboards can be removed, and new ones patched in--first
trimmed to fit as needed--and painted to match the remainder of
the wall. Manufactured building products like oversiding, on the
other hand, tend to come in fixed, non-adjustable sizes and have
factory-applied finishes that can not readily be touched up in the
field. Consequently, when they begin to fail, they often must be
removed and replaced wholesale rather than simply patching deteriorated
areas.
So, beware
the maintenance-free miracle product... but wouldn't it be nice
not to have to paint every few years?
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ASBESTOS
AGAIN
Asbestos
in old buildings is a subject that a lot of us wish would just go
away, but it won't. In fact, one of the characteristics that resulted
in the mineral's wide use in shingle underlayment, tarpaper, plaster,
roofing cement, and similar materials was that it is chemically
very stable. It neither corrodes, nor rots, nor dissolves, nor becomes
more brittle with time. It is also an excellent thermal and electrical
insulator, and was even used to give strength and flexibility to
wall and ceiling plaster. Asbestos was viewed in the late nineteenth
and early twentieth centuries as the great Modern Miracle Material;
building-material manufacturers often bragged about the quantity
of asbestos their products contained: "Our very best asphalt
paper--85% asbestos fiber!"
Identifying
asbestos in an old building is not intuitive; in the cases of tar
paper, roofing cement, and plaster, laboratory analysis is often
required. One common type of asbestos, however, is readily identifiable.
If you encounter something in your old building that looks like
white or light gray corrugated cardboard, either wrapped around
pipes or applied in sheets to flat surfaces, it is almost certainly
asbestos.
To deal
with asbestos safely, or to determine whether a material contains
asbestos, consult an asbestos-abatement consultant. Start your search
under "Asbestos Abatement" in the Yellow Pages. Most asbestos-abatement
firms offer consulting assistance, although when feasible, I prefer
to use a consulting-only firm for information and advice. Firms
that also perform abatement work can have a bias in favor of greater
intervention than might otherwise be necessary.
Despite
the temptation to remove asbestos pipe insulation and similar products
yourself, the liability issues involved (to say nothing of the law
and governmental regulations) make it a risky business, and one
to steer well clear of.
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DECISIONS,
DECISIONS!
Sometimes,
when my clients are having a hard time coming to agreement about
what they want to do, I wonder whether learning mind reading or
dispute-resolution facilitation might help. For two (or more) people
to agree on design criteria or any other complex matter can be a
major challenge. Yet, agreement on those criteria is critical to
the success of their building project.
Over three
decades of marriage, my wife and I have developed a way to create
a joint product out of strongly differing ideas and viewpoints:
Writing our annual Christmas letter, it's called. It is cumbersome
and time-consuming, but it works:
We begin
by each writing a draft. These drafts often read as though they
came from opposite sides of the planet, rather than from two people
who have lived together throughout the past year. We exchange them
without comment, and each write a second draft, attempting to incorporate
the essence of both previous drafts. Typically, these second versions
do show a family resemblance.
Then we
sit down, drafts in hand, and review and revise them, line by line
and word by word, to make a mutually acceptable third and final
draft, which we print and mail (to the accompaniment of deep sighs
of relief).
With appropriate
modifications, this process can be used to develop a thoughtful
and mutually-agreeable set of design criteria (the "design program")
which you and your architect can use to guide your project.
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OVERLAYS
A while
ago we wrote a piece on the importance of story lines in restoring
and rehabilitating museum buildings,* and their use as a reality
check for work proposed for any old structure.
The essential
benefit of a story line can be simplified into a one-sentence guide
for making changes to older structures: Work from a more recent
stylistic period overlaid on older work is usually historically
convincing, while work from an earlier period overlaid on stylistically
newer work usually isn't.
The reason
why this is so should be easy to understand: Buildings exist in
time, as well as in space. Time flows from the future through the
present to the past. The most convincing changes to old buildings,
therefore, are those that follow the direction of that flow.
When we
lay elements onto a building that are stylistically older than the
building itself, we are suggesting that time can flow backward.
It can't. This physical and historical impossibility leads to an
architectural-historical failure.
This is
not to say that wonderful buildings and environments can't be created
by juxtaposing elements without regard for their stylistic age.
I have seen and been in some, but they are in no way restorations
or even preservations. They are free fantasies on period themes--arrangements
of objects that, however much presence they may have, lack the historical
and architectural coherence expected of a responsibly and convincingly
preserved old building.
*)
Tell me a story,
in Observations, Issue 13.
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