Yours Trulli, third in a series on Vernacular Architecture

The Trulli houses (Trullo, singular) of Puglia, Italy are something quite extraordinary. I became enamored with them when I was looking at the region as a possible holiday destination last year. With further research, I was hooked. The Trulli of Alberabello have been named a UNESCO World Heritage Site, they are defined as follows:

“The Trulli, limestone dwellings found in the southern region of Puglia, are remarkable examples of drywall (mortar less) construction, a prehistoric building technique still in use in this region. The Trulli are made of roughly worked limestone boulders collected from neighboring fields. Characteristically, they feature pyramidal, domed or conical roofs built up of corbelled limestone slabs.”

Looking at the roof of a Trullo from the interior.

An interior of a Trullo house with contemporary bathroom.

“The Committee decided to inscribe the nominated property on the basis of cultural criteria (iii), (iv) and (v) considering that the site is of outstanding universal value being an exceptional example of a form of building construction deriving from prehistoric construction techniques that have survived intact and functioning into the modern world.” UNESCO web site.

A multitude of Trulli houses.

The Trulli houses were not constructed with blocks of stone but a combination of stones of many shapes and sizes. Piled into rough circular shapes and topped with a key stone upon which all the roof depended in order to stay up. The dwellings are topped off by gleaming white pinacoli (pinnacles), often decorated with symbols painted with lime. Legend has it that they were painted for magical or proprietary rites.

Trulli houses with symbols painted in lime.

Trulli "pinacoli".

For centuries, the Trullo house was typical in this region. As of today, most have been demolished, with the exception of 1,400 in the town of Alberabello.

An original Trullo home from greatbuildings.com

A thriving industry now revolves around the restoration and building of Trulli houses. You can rent a Trullo house, or stay in one, as with Villa Santoro.

A Trulli rooftop landscape.

I know that this will be one of my destinations, that is, of course, after my Windmill.

Barbara Ashfield

The Windmills of my Mind, The second in a series on Vernacular Architecture

A beautiful row of Windmills at sunset.

Continuing the thread on vernacular architecture, …and using the Dutch Windmill as a primary example to draw from, the Windmill seems to have played a long and significant part in the life of the Dutch people. These bastions of power have been used in Europe since the Middle Ages and were developed from the 12th century, apparently from technology gained by Crusaders who came into contact with Windmills in the Middle East.

A drawing of Windmills by Van Gogh.

The consumate image of Holland, a Windmill and tulips.

Europe was once awash with Windmills, mainly in Holland, but Europe and the UK too, but it is only in Holland that so many can be seen in so small an area. However, as steam power developed, unreliable wind power was largely abandoned and many were simply left to decay. Built to use wind energy to grind corn, remove excess water from the low-lying districts and to saw timber, these structures were constructed of native brick or thatched with reed, thus using local materials to fill the local industry.

Chesterton Windmill, Warwickshire England.

Everyone loves a Windmill, yes? These elegant sailed towers have been romanticized and immortalized over the years through various mediums - be it oil on canvas, the written word, or the melody. What instantly comes to mind is Hans Christian Andersen’s Hans Brinker and the Silver Skates, Cervantes’ Don Quixote, the 70’s pop song Windmills of my Mind, or the much more fabulous remix by Sting as performed in the remake of The Thomas Crown Affair with Pierce Brosnan and Renee Russo.

A production of Balanchine's Don Quixote in Canada 2006.

My fondness for all things Dutch goes back to my childhood. When traveling with my family at the tender age of five, I remember stopping dead in my tracks as I spotted my first Windmill just outside of Amsterdam in the small village of Haarlem. We had traveled there to meet Anne Marie, our Dutch Au Pair, who would be traveling with us for the next several weeks. She had a wonderful black puppy too, although to my dismay that was not part of the deal. Haarlem was also my first introduction to tulips; hand carved wooden clogs (that I still have), and my very own international doll donning the traditional Dutch costume. I’ve always loved the hat!

The famous old Windmill at Haarlem, The Netherlands.

Hand-carved wooden clogs, just like mine.

Truth be told, as a designer of interiors, I am more interested in the guts of these examples of architectural wonder. Unable to find acceptable examples of period rooms in print media, I am forced to visualize Axel Vervoordt’s clean style and the earthy paint colors of Farrow & Ball …how about you? Knowing that the standard “windmill plan” includes a tower that is round at the base (thus giving the house a circular entrance hall) my mind is spinning with ideas. The next 2 floors are rectangular with stairs connecting each and I am awestruck with the challenge of creating, if only in my minds’ eye, an interior steeped in history but akin to a modern lifestyle. Now that project would be a worthy challenge.

A moody photograph of a Windmill interior gleaned from Flickr.

I am somewhat tempted to visit a Windmill myself, as they are now available to rent in many countries throughout the world. That concept may be just too delicious to pass up.

Barbara Ashfield

A Toast to the Oast – The first in a series on Vernacular Architecture

This will be the first installment of a series on “Vernacular Architecture”.

Oast houses in Kent, England.

I’ve always been fascinated by how people live; what they live in and how they live in it. Since seeing my first windmill in Holland at the tender age of 5 (not to mention learning that people actually lived in them) my curiosity has had the best of me. Certainly many of us can relate to past issues of National Geographic, whose photographs have given us a pictorial essay of life and lifestyles far different than our own.

All roads lead to home. Approaching Wendy and Andy's Oast house in Kent, England.

Wikipidia defines vernacular architecture as follows…“methods of construction which use locally available resources and traditions to address local needs, fitting the needs of an industry or locale. Some styles which I hope to feature in future pieces are the pyramids of Egypt, the Trulli houses of Apulia, Italy, and the cliff dwellings in Turkey, among others.

Roofs of Oast houses in Sissinghurst, England.

This first selection on Oast Houses is fitting as I actually have a family member who resides in one with her husband in a village in Kent, SE England. An Oast House you say? That’s exactly the question I posed when the news broke that they were considering the purchase of one of the same. Believing always that this terribly chic couple would only select something unique and wonderful, I was anxious to learn all about the history of this seemingly magical example of historic English architecture.

The home of my cousin Wendy and her husband in Kent, England.

An Oast is an oven, or kiln, that is used to dry hops which is used in brewing beer. The first structure appeared around the 1750s in Kent near Cranbrook and Tunbridge Wells, SE England and was constructed for the sole purpose of drying hops. Following the harvest, the hops were taken to the Oasts, raked flat and left to dry by means of hot air from a wood or charcoal fired kiln at the bottom of the dwelling. When the drying process was complete, the hops were raked out to cool before being bagged up and sent to the brewery. The conical roofs that you see in these photos made way for the cowls, which allowed the hot air to escape. These cowls turned with the wind, bringing the cool air in, turning with the wind.

A diagram showing how Oast houses were originally used.

As I did have the opportunity to stay with family, I made myself at home in this very spacious abode. With some parts of the house historically intact and in good condition, other rooms such as the kitchen and bathrooms were state of the art, no doubt the work of my cousin, a designer herself.

Another view of Wendy & Andy's Oast house.

The land surrounding the property is extensive, and although the hops industry in this area has now ceased, the once productive fields are now resting. The open space is unbelievably open and gorgeous in its raw beauty.

A look through the proverbial looking glass to Wendy & Andy's Oast house.

That’s it for this piece. Serendipitously, with the proverbial pen to paper, an email popped up with an invitation to travel and the question was posed…“Where would you like to go?” – Maybe those plans should include something in the ‘vernacular’.

Barbara Ashfield