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| Pattern Language: Battered coral columns create a sense of security.
Strong vertical and horizontal lines create a sense of balance.
Natural, local materials create a sense of place.
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Pattern language—that’s what shaped Josh Powell’s latest masterpiece. “It’s an architectural term that means, when the style is created not by architects, but by local craftsmen over time,” he says.
Good bones—that’s what drew the developer to this home. Designed in the ’60s by a custom contractor for his own family, its high-quality materials had held up well. “We could keep the walls, subfloor, coral columns, a lot of the foundation,” Powell says. “We could stick with the original footprint.”
Venturi effect—that’s what allows him to harness the wind. “The dormers act like funnels,” he says. “They catch the northeast trades coming off Diamond Head and cause the wind to speed up.”
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| Venturi Effect: Trade winds coming off Diamond Head are captured by
dormers in the roof, which funnel and accelerate the air. Cooler air
coming from the pool level below pushes hot air up the staircase and
out the skylights.
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To complete this Venturi effect or “stacked ventilation system,” Powell installed big double doors below, all situated to suck in air that is naturally cooled by water evaporating off the pool. “When you open the skylights above the three-story stairway, it creates negative air pressure, a natural vacuum up. This evacuates all the hot air,” he says. The skylights are automated, he adds. If it rains, they’ll shut themselves.
Passive ventilation isn’t the only green building concept applied here. Powell’s entire project revolves around sustainability. “The best way to build green is to not rebuild, but to retain the structure to the extent I can,” he states. “Reusing materials does add a layer of complexity to the remodeling. But we create less than half the waste of a traditional wipe-clean-and-rebuild—and there’s less lumber to buy.”
Certain systems need complete replacement, due to ordinary wear and tear. It’s a good opportunity to install the latest green technologies. Throughout this renovation are Milgard windows from Island Home Building Materials. They have low-emissivity double panes for insulation, and are made of fiberglass for strength and wind resistance. The roof is insulated with “oriented-strand board,” a green wood fiber with a Mylar sheet that reflects the sunlight back up. The decks are made from ipe, a renewable wood that’s ideal for the Hawaiian climate. The flooring is coconut, a palm that’s otherwise burned by farmers when the tree’s fruit-bearing years are over.
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| All-Viking: Modern amenities start in the kitchen, and this kitchen’s
three workstations and multifunctionality are complemented by the
Viking appliances.
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| Old World: A circuitous path to the entryway, with ancient travertine
steps and a mature mango tree, help recapture a forgotten corner of the
front yard.
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Pattern Language
But how to create a sense of place? “If you instill ‘pattern language’ in the architecture, it will feel like a Hawaii home,” Powell says. So his company, Freedomhouse LLC, installed vertical-grain fir paneling from Hardware Hawaii. “It’s very common in Japanese architecture, and gives a strong feeling of purity,” he says. Powell’s nephew carved Hawaiian quilt patterns directly onto the Bella Pietra tiles in the entryway. They tilted the dormers—just like in 1930s industrial architectural design in Hawaii—for better shade and to protect from rain getting in the vents. They pounded a bush-hammered finish and chiseled edge into the kitchen countertops. This effect, plus the natural defects in the Jerusalem limestone, add a primal quality and complement the home’s coral columns.
And what columns! Powell set the coral against the old foundation at a slight wider-at-the-base angle. To create the resultant “battered” look was a logistical feat. Nevertheless, it’s “an important thing, because it speaks of permanence,” he says. “I could make a straight up-and-down wall, but a battered column feels right. Structurally, it makes people feel secure; the house is resting on something that’s going to stay forever.
“Everyone knows intrinsically, when you’re stacking a bunch of stuff up, to give it a little angle so it’ll be more stable,” Powell continues. “That’s why straight skyscrapers feel slightly unnatural, people can get vertigo. But the pyramids of Egypt feel good, because we all know gravity. In a Hawaiian heiau, as with any traditional temple architecture, from the Greeks to Native and Meso Americans, you always see a heavy stone plinth (base) holding up the building.”
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| Master Bath: His-and-her sinks by Kohler, from Ferguson, reflect the home’s symmetry.
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Obviously, he’s a student of architectural history, with a penchant for detail and a respect for tradition. Take the entry area, for example. “We really wanted to keep the existing mango tree, and it became an important formal aspect,” he says. “In everything from Japanese to ancient Greek architecture, you have this circuitous path into the home: the steps, the terracing help you approach.”
Inside the entryway, the space is wide and horizontal. The adjacent stairwell is strongly vertical. Just beyond is the kitchen, and it benefits from those 90-degree angles. “The kitchen is lighter, with strong proportions,” Powell says. “It really follows the rule of thirds in photography: naturally balanced and symmetric. It’s a subtle part of architecture that people may not see or articulate, but it feels right—and comfortable.”
Powell knows how people like modern amenities, too. So, he installed all-Viking appliances and lighting from Dial Electric in the kitchen. The master bedroom has his-and-her closets, an extra washer/dryer and master bath with infinity tub and waterfall. The party room has a wine cellar, sauna and Viking barbecue. The whole house is wired with coaxial and Cat-5, which can be used for Internet, phone jacks, speakers—just about anything.
But on this sleepy slope of Diamond Head, the house blends right in. Powell took pains to ensure his renovation kept in scale with the street. In fact, passersby might think it’s a single-level home, not three stories high. If they could only see the battered coral columns, they’d know, this is one remodel that will stand the test of time.
