Recently I saw an article in the Los Angeles Times about the increasing paucity of shade, especially in urban areas. It’s hardly surprising given that as we grow our collective footprint on Earth we plow through tree canopies and leave ourselves more exposed to the sun. As such, shade has become a commodity, and as with all commodities a market has developed to acquire it. A shade industry has blossomed in the last decade with structures going up all over kids’ playgrounds, elderly housing, healthcare centers, resorts, clubs, private residences, and on and on. Aside from fertile ground for wordplay and interactions with shady salesmen (see?) these structures can offer substantial climate altering benefits and significant personal comfort. They also bring some impacts to exterior spaces that need to be considered more forthrightly.
Consider your average summer day in the northern hemisphere: high sky, fewer trees, more sunblock, higher temperatures, and an ever-tightening turn of the screw from climate change. Phew, it’s hot. And more and more it’s hot in more and more places. Witness the Pacific Northwest, a geographic sanctuary where heat formerly went to die, now home of cooked fish and boiled sea creatures in deathly warm rivers and along baked seashores. Many cases of corresponding heat-induced human suffering involve workers left unprotected from the sun’s relentless glare. Yes, there are work breaks under trees and other canopies, but often that’s not sufficient to sustain enough of us throughout the day. To say there’s a shade crisis may yet be a shade dramatic (!), but there’s an increasing need for respite from the rays and more designers are finding innovative ways to bring it. In fact, the phrase “engineered shade” now connotes a whole range of products. I recall an early glimpse.
On a beach many years ago, I was first introduced to one of the simpler and more enduring ideas for shade. Amidst some dunes, our host had rammed three logs into the sand like primitive posts, applied a few iron hooks, and unfolded a shade cloth that stretched, clipped, and ultimately hung horizontally over our heads like an organic roof. “Coolaroo,” he answered when I inquired, “you haven’t seen these?” I hadn’t, but I’ve since seen many applications of this simple Australian product, creatively spanning, hovering, and generally enlivening both public and private spaces. Since then, I’ve noticed a range of scales and structural integrity to these cloth applications. Several years later our local elementary school, like so many others, brought in the brightly painted and robust structures to give the kids a safe outdoor lunch and lounging area. And not too long afterwards, ShadeFX helped us put together retracting shade cloth awnings above the breeze space at a clients’ residence in Sonoma County.
I don’t mean to imply the idea of shade is new. Grape arbors as simple as wire panels overhead with grapevines rambling between; wood arbors of sophisticated detailing and architectural styling; breezeways, colonnades, umbrellas, parasols, pergolas, and pavilions – all have been a part of our world for years. But as the built environment spreads and nature’s embrace evaporates, the need for sensible, sustainable sanctuary beneath the sun is greater than ever. All of the above traditional options are in play, and amidst a wider range of outdoor demands and technological comfort, many newer options are expanding the vernacular of shade.
These days the idea of shade and how to provide it is a staple in conversations with clients, and solutions are increasingly sophisticated. A current project involves Renson shade systems wherein LED lighting, manipulatable louvers, motorized shade cloth and sophisticated rain protection all express an outdoor room that can adjust to various weather and associated shade desires. The architectural character of these systems, while certainly contemporary, is adaptive enough to fit most exterior settings. On another project we’re employing perforated metal cloth awnings to extend architectural cover with a twist of fancy in the pattern that drops as a unique and dynamic shadow.
And yet we have not forgotten the majesty of simple solutions. We “engineered” the use of good ol’ trees to form a living arbor at another project in Sonoma. There, six mulberry trees are being grown around a three-year temporary arbor of traditional bamboo and rope construction. After three seasons, we’ll remove the arbor and allow the cultivated branch structure and large seasonal leaves to cast critical shade on those summer days that increasingly bring 110 degree heat. Although clearly a natural material, the deliberate, patterned layout combined with a baseline structure gives a sense that this arbor has been “built,” and future maintenance will continue towards a tight, floating rectangle of leafy shade.
So what’s your idea of good shade? With so many options, no matter which way you want to go, you’ll have it made…
DJ
Photo courtesy of Robina Benson Design House