I’ve been involved in house transformations for over two decades. Of the 33 renovations we featured during my time as producer of This Old House, each and every one was somebody’s dream house; the same goes for the projects I work on now in my career as a renovation consultant. No matter what the job is and regardless of its size and budget, whenever a house is improved, its owners’ strongest hopes and imaginings of better living come to the fore. We love our homes--and whenever love is involved, things can get complicated.
Standing in the middle of the constellation of the people involved—owners, architect, builder, subcontractors, town officials, materials suppliers—I have seen time and again that the human element plays a huge role in what everyone wishes were a completely rational and rationalized undertaking. Agendas both conscious and unconscious come into play, and although I believe that everyone truly wants the project to succeed, each participant’s precise definition of success is, human-nature-ly, different. These can grow under the inevitable stress of the job, and a single degree of difference can become a wide gap by the end of the road.
Everyone’s heard the old saws--the owners want everything done on time and on budget and still reserve the right to change their minds at any point; the architect wants a beautiful image for his or her portfolio; the builder wants to build as he sees fit, with minimal meddling—but most intelligent players know, at least intellectually, that such fantasies must be modulated by compromise and teamwork. Subtler things come into play, however, and they can hurt progress. Some of what I’ve seen over the years: owners afraid of insulting their architect by expressing dissatisfaction with a design; architects reluctant to allow builders to suggest solutions; builders tempted to make up for rising, uncompensated costs by cutting corners rather than making a case for more payment. Behind most of these problems are the myriad insecurities, fears, assumptions, and misunderstandings that follow us humans wherever we go and whatever we do. They’re just more intense when money is flowing and people are thrust together, usually for the first time.
I was never trained as a psychologist, but nonetheless have played some version of shrink on each job. Architects and builders report similar experiences; in my opinion, that’s a poor use of their skills. Not only is their time best spent doing what they do best—architects satisfying owners’ needs, builders bringing designs into three-dimensionality—but they themselves are within the triangle at the core of the project, the one that they form with the client. “Love triangle” may be putting it in melodramatic terms, but a triangle it is, with loyalties, alliances, and even trust issues that shift over the life of the project.
In addition to helping put owners, architects, and builders together as teams, my role as consultant is to break that triangle, providing a neutral Switzerland for each member to turn to. When a team member needs an objective view on an issue, a place to get heard, a confessor, or a prod towards better communication, I’m there. Occasionally hard-nosed, occasionally touchy-feely, sometimes acting as devil’s advocate or bringing an alternative product or method to the table, I try to keep the project’s best interests in focus and the issues out in the sunshine.
For homeowners who don’t hire me or someone like me, remember that despite being the non-professional in the mix, you are the leader. That’s because it’s your house and you are paying the bills. You set the tone, and if things like openness, honesty, and fairness are put in place at the start, you will have a much better chance of getting the best out of your teammates. Aside from researching their past work, when looking for design and construction partners, don’t be afraid to listen to your gut. Transformations take time, and you’re going to be in the trenches with these folks for longer than you might think. You need tolike them.
Oh, and plan for 20% cost and time overruns—it’s better to go into a dream with your eyes wide open.
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Bruce Irving is a renovation consultant based in Cambridge, Massachusetts. He also serves as vice-chairman of the Cambridge Historical Commission, as a member of the editorial board of Architecture Boston magazine and contributing editor at Design New England magazine, and as series producer of This New House, a new television show debuting on the DIY Network this summer.
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