Quinn Evans renews Pope’s Constitution Hall for another century of concerts

Members of the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR) have been architectural patrons in Washington, D.C. since 1905 when Edward Pearce Casey’s design for their Memorial Continental Hall was completed one block north of the National Mall. Locals know its central meeting space, genealogy library, and museum from DAR’s annual open house, and for almost 120 years, Memorial Continental Hall has been the center of the organization’s activities, debates, and votes. 

Locals also know the adjacent Constitution Hall, designed by John Russell Pope in 1924 and completed in 1930, as the scene of hundreds of concerts, comedy shows, military band performances, and upwards of 40 graduations each year for area schools. Its National Register nomination notes its original purpose for DAR’s annual congress was surpassed soon after it opened by its new status as the “unofficial cultural center for the Nation’s Capital.”  Even today, if you live within 50 miles of it, you’ve probably been there at least once to enjoy something from one its 3,702 seats (making it the largest concert hall in the District). 

Once powered by the sun, the existing laylight has been retrofitted with 972 LED lights manufactured by Folio in Brescia, Italy, which use a small amount of electricity while providing the soft, diffused luminescence the hall requires.

Quinn Evans worked with DAR for more than 10 years to restore and refresh elements of Memorial Continental Hall and Administration Building and, starting with a 2014 feasibility study, Constitution Hall. The team restored the U-shaped lobby and upgraded its mechanical systems, restored the stage area, and restored and upgraded the auditorium, itself, including structural reinforcements, safety measures for riggers above, and basement and backstage dressing rooms for visiting acts that might host a church choral group from Cincinnati one day and Bob Dylan the next and then Tina Fey and Amy Pohler the week after.

Pope’s edifice is striking for its perfect Neoclassical temple front that rises above 18th Street. The drama of approaching from the south at an oblique angle is heightened by the road’s gentle elevation change and the facade offers a strong counterpoint to the stripped down Classicism of the Department of the Interior’s flank across the street. The drama that most will remember, however, is inside the main hall as part of a $18 million restoration by Quinn Evans, earning it a 2022 Award of Honor for Historic Preservation by AIA Virginia.

“The goal was to be as accurate as we could be in the restoration, but also provide the kind of flexibility that contemporary performances need,” says Katie Irwin, AIA, a senior associate at Quinn Evans and project manager for the Constitution Hall renovation. “The client’s values really aligned with Quinn Evans’ values in the work we do and in terms of wanting to be great stewards of historic properties.”

As part of the hall’s upgrade, Quinn Evans was able to stash a fully accessible platform for riggers to hoist lights and speakers above the laylight. Courtesy Quinn Evans

Perhaps the most noticeable difference for concertgoers who’ve been attending shows there for the last 20 years will be the resurfaced coved ceiling, which gently meets the flanking walls of the auditorium. It was rebuilt and resurfaced to gently bounce uplighting while also focusing the eye along its lines towards the stage. It also frames the laylight in the center of the ceiling that’s been framed by a grid. Once powered by the sun, the existing laylight has been retrofitted with 972 LED lights manufactured by Folio in Brescia, Italy, which use a small amount of electricity while providing the soft, diffused luminescence the hall requires. As part of the hall’s upgrade, Quinn Evans was able to stash a fully accessible platform for riggers to hoist lights and speakers above the laylight. The added bonus of using LEDs is that lighting technicians can adjust it to suit different moods, as the performer on stage or the event requires. 

“It’s a complex system that has a daylight mode and a starlight mode, so it can twinkle, too,” says Anne Kopf, AIA, an Associate at Quinn Evans and project architect who led construction administration on-site and managed the design and engineering teams on the project.

To that end, there are a few other theaters in town of the same vintage that are on the National Register of Historic Places. The Warner Theater opened in 1924 (as the Earle Theater) has a capacity that’s about half of Constitution Hall’s, and remains a popular venue for artists as diverse as P.J. Harvey and Animal Collective, the horror film director/composer John Carpenter, or–this month–a mariachi band from Tecalitlán, Mexico. There’s also the Avalon in Chevy Chase, which opened in 1922 with an original capacity of 1,200 (today, as a cinema, it’s closer to 450), and continues its centenary celebration this year with the latest Wes Anderson film and a documentary about Vermeer. 

DAR’s Constitution Hall is a different caliber, though, whose exterior makes most (if not all) of the lists of notable architecture in the city, but whose auditorium is on par with the Kennedy Center or Carnegie Hall. “You don’t have a space like this anywhere else in DC,” says Kopf, “and it’s a major draw to attend shows, but the space itself—the restoration—is part of the draw.”

William Richards is a writer and the Editorial Director of Team Three, an editorial and creative consultancy based in Washington, DC.

Project credits:

Architecture Firm: Quinn Evans

Owner: Daughters of the American Revolution (Stephen Nordholt, Representative)

General Contractor: The Christman Company

MEP Engineering:  Greenman Pedersen Inc. and Loring Consulting Engineers

Historic Paint Finishes Specialist: Artifex Ltd.

Structural Engineer: 1200 Architectural Engineers

Theatrical Lighting and Theater Planning: Schuler Shook

Lighting Design (Phase 1 – Lobby): Gary Steffy Lighting Design

Acoustical Consulting: Jaffee Holden

Life Safety Engineering: GHD

Stage Mural Recreation: Holly Highfill

Photographer: Ron Blunt Photography

How viable is sustainability for downtowns and design budgets?  

The focus today on adaptive reuse as a strategy for decarbonization is still subject to the economics of running an architecture firm and contingent on market forces and their players like developers, investors, owners, and operators. Commonwealth Architects Principal Lee Shadbolt, AIA, and Principal Emeritus Robert Burns, AIA, say that the value proposition of adapting an old building for new uses remains strong for their clients who are “bottom-line oriented,” but in approaching the question of embodied and operational carbon, they say, “you have to think about the quality of the existing building stock that’s left, which is different across Virginia. There’s not a single solution.”

At this point, and considering the digital tools to evaluate existing building stock, how would you say adaptive reuse has changed over the last decade

Lee Shadbolt: The adaptive reuse projects that were near the central business district in any town and any city—if they were a good project, they were probably already done about 10 years ago. The good projects downtown are done. Now we’re seeing another set of buildings coming up that have reached their 50-year threshold for historic tax credits, and they’re not old like we think of as historic architecture—they’re Modern architecture. They present another set of rules, especially for our firm, for another set of different materials. 

How are you talking to clients about the material realities—meaning the literal performance of materials—of projects that are 50 years old versus 100 years old, say?

Robert Burns: A lot of our clients tend to be bottom-line folks—especially if they’re developers. In terms of materials, it’s the same discussion for those younger buildings as it is for older ones—what can we do to extend the life of certain materials? When is it more cost effective to replace something? What do you replace it with? In some of our historic work where we are inserting contemporary fabric, we make it clear what’s new and what’s historic. 

Lee: It really depends on the situation. We have one job now where we’re looking to convert an office tower into a hotel. The hotel chain came back and said they wanted to replace the old, single-pane windows. We said we can’t do that—they are the “contributing factors” and historic characteristics. We have another job with a curtain wall, which is in good shape, and we’re just going to add another pane of glass. There’s a third case, which was an old warehouse—a manufacturing plant for tobacco—and the windows had been replaced with glass blocks 30 years ago. So, we went in and put back steel-sash windows, which were the original windows before the glass blocks.

How does Commonwealth Architects see trends unfolding across Virginia for existing buildings, especially considering the pressures of climate change in such an ecologically diverse state?

Lee: We’ve seen, in the Tidewater region, the demolishing of a lot of historic buildings rather than adaptively using them. Petersburg has the best building stock in the state, but building new things there isn’t economically viable. Richmond? If there was low-hanging fruit in the past, in terms of readily and easily renovating or restoring an old building, it’s been done. Danville, Lynchburg, and so on—all different stories—but it’s been done there and there’s not a lot left to work with and the days when you could buy an old warehouse for $25 a square foot and convert it are gone.

Robert: Our cost-conscious clients seem to be a lot more interested in the energy efficiency of their buildings than they used to be, especially since a lot of the costs of certification for LEED and others have come down. Before the rise of a lot of the energy efficiency focus, they could care less—it was always about first-cost—but we are seeing a lot more owner-operators now, too, who are a lot more interest in energy efficiency. 

Lee: We always ask a question of our owner-operators about their future tenants about how they think the upfront energy upgrades would cost them in five years, and then they always discover that it’s only a few more dollars a month. So, that’s satisfying to make that argument early and succeed. It sets the tone for the whole project. 

Robert: As the demographic of downtown residents has trended younger and younger, I find that they’re interested in the greenness of a building. Richmond is talking now about doing away with required parking for downtown condominiums and apartments, primarily because their residents don’t drive cars. Now, that can be argued in a lot of ways, but it’s undeniable that the people who move downtown now are interested in sustainable design. Developers are smart and if they know that, they’ll start to leverage it. 

Lee: We’re getting closer—and the threshold is lower to get over now to send a message that sustainability is viable. With multi-family, you’re getting younger folks, but you’re getting empty-nester baby boomers, too. I was recently in a seminar when someone on the panel said, “The thing you can do to live longer is to be around people and be engaged.” That’s the opposite of moving to a golf course community or moving to the mountains away from people. 

This interview has been edited for clarity and length. 

William Richards is a writer and the Editorial Director of Team Three, an editorial and creative consultancy based in Washington, DC.

Design Dialogue: New calculator compares carbon savings for existing and new building

In December, Architecture 2030 launched a calculator to estimate the operational and embodied carbon emissions of a project in two scenarios: reusing it and upgrading it or replacing it with new construction. Dubbed the Carbon Avoided Retrofit Estimator (CARE) Tool, Architecture 2030 hopes to underscore the carbon savings that can be found by adapting existing buildings for future use in contrast to the widespread assumption that new construction is always appropriate. 

Users can enter general project information, as well as climate and electricity grid information (or ask the tool to use default values for each municipality). When entering project information, the tool adjusts your ratios to make it foolproof and fast to enter information (i.e. if you tell it you’ll be using 25 percent refurbished finishes for the interior, then it automatically sets your new finishes to 75 percent). 

As you enter information, the tool also automatically builds your comparison on the screen to show how small or large adjustments can impact the bottom line. Architects and owners can use the estimates to apply for competitions, obtain grants, or reach required targets. The tool also assists policymakers and preservation officials by offering a data-backed, apples-to-apples picture of a situation they can leverage to influence decisions by appointees or non-experts.  

But, the front line of the CARE Tool’s potential remains architects, designers, and planners who specialize in sustainable design to weigh-in on the CARE Tool, its use, and their experiences. Inform spoke with area professionals who tested the CARE Tool about their impressions. In this Design Dialogue, area architects talk about their experience with the CARE Tool, as well as their hope for its use and application. 

Michelle Amt, AIA, is the Director of Sustainability and Inclusion and Associate Principal at VMDO Architects. “From an inclusion standpoint, the tool helps find value in buildings that aren’t necessarily deemed a ‘contributing structure’,” she says.

“I’ve used the CARE Tool on a few projects to check the scale of the environmental impact and payoff period for buildings. To renovate or build new is about so much more than functionality. It’s about accessibility, heritage, and climate action, too, and so now we are able to define climate action as total carbon. It’s one of a couple of quick calculators out there now that look at total carbon emissions. Up until about five years ago, when people talked about emissions in the built environment, they were really talking about operational carbon. But, the conversation progressed to talk about the energy of materials. So, that was a great development, but the conversation has also become more complicated. Clients who know a little about embodied carbon would get bogged down with, “Well, does it make sense to save this building? Replace it? How do I figure out how to invest here?” But, until now, nothing has really dealt with the existing stock of buildings out there as well as the CARE Tool. Unless a building has a designated historic benefit, it is usually deemed cheaper to demo and build anew.”

Patrick Farley, AIA, is the founder of Patrick Farley Architect and splits his time (and practice) between Afton and Richmond. “I found a tool like this to be useful because it helps lots of people see how front-end decisions can have consequences.”

I have an existing building on a farm in Charlottesville that we’re converting, breathing new life into it and expanding it—so there are existing conditions, but there are new aspects to it. I used it as the basis for a trial run with the CARE Tool, and I didn’t have all the information I needed for my project, so I used some other industry data for similar buildings of the same type, and I was able to come up with a picture of the future of this project, from a carbon point of view.

I was one of the first signatories to the 2030 Commitment, and I support the mission, still, to bring greater awareness to the broader, climate-related challenges we’re facing with alarming regularity. I’ve done energy modeling through the years, but less and less so as time has gone on because I’ve relied more on my expertise and intuition. But, I found a tool like this to be useful because it helps lots of people see how front-end decisions can have consequences later—and it reminded me of energy modeling, in a lot of ways. It triggers awareness, even if not a lot of people will want to dig into the numbers to the degree that the tool allows. 

But, there are subtleties to this, too. I was one of the earliest solar panel adopters, and I’ve used it throughout the years, and at this point I can say that just because solar panels are involved doesn’t mean a project is going to succeed in limiting its carbon footprint. If there’s a second version of this tool, it would be a way to account for this reality. Some sort of account of how marketplace products and their production represent a more complex supply chain. 

Learn more at caretool.org

Contexts Collide at Heirloom Farm Studio to Create a Familiar Form

Heirloom Farm Studio, designed by Bushman Dreyfus Architects, is a paradox. 

On one hand, it’s the ideal home in the popular imagination. It’s an American saltbox you can find standing like a sentinel on the banks of a brackish inlet from Bar Harbor to Sausalito to Bainbridge Island. It’s what you might sketch in a game of charades to assuredly win the round. It’s a Monopoly house on Baltic Avenue with four sides and a pitched roof. 

On the other hand, its form reflects architecture’s longest standing and deep-seated archetypes that people write term papers about—the allegorical primitive hut, introduced by Vitruvius and expanded by Marc-Antoine Laugier and representing the moment when mere shelter became intentional architecture eons ago. That hut—primitive or not—is the alpha and the omega of architecture’s theory. 

This poplar-clad studio—simple or not—is the expression of a few colliding contexts. 

The first was the program. Bushman Dreyfus principal-in-charge, Jeff Dreyfus, says the clients—a developer and artist husband and wife team, who split their time between Charlottesville and New York—wanted an empty black box to make art without constraints, which is what he gave them. It might not be pure black, but the cabin’s poplar siding has been stained, as well as strengthened to prevent warping through a thermal modification process trademarked by Cambia by NFP, a Kingston, New Hampshire company that offers alternatives to tropical hardwoods or petrochemical-based products. The clients also wanted a working studio complete with utility sink and poured concrete floor that could accommodate large sculptures, as well as adequate lighting for pastels and mixed-media pieces. 

The second context was the studio’s place in a sequence of buildings that Bushman Dreyfus had been working on for the client, starting with an 18th century cottage cosseting a 17th century log cabin they’d begun renovating in 2014 and ending with a theoretical main house they hadn’t even conceived yet at the time of the studio’s design, but is now under construction.

“When we planned the studio, we had to think about how it would fit into a view for a potential home and we had to think about not intruding on the cottage,” says Dreyfus who, along with the studio’s lead designer Aga Saulle, took into account the third bit of context—the terms of the 33-acre property within a 2,300-acre eco-development called Bundoran Farm, which limits the location and size of building sites.

Initially, the clients asked for a black box, according to Dreyfus, which suggested a more modern cube in the landscape with a flat roof—more Marcel Breuer or Le Corbusier than Laugier. But at a certain point, he says, “we felt differently about what this could be because of the context of the cabin we’d just renovated. This studio shouldn’t have a flat roof—it needed a real roof, it needed a silhouette, it needed a profile—and it needed to be elemental.”

In 2022, AIA Virginia awarded Heirloom Farm Studio an Award of Honor, the highest recognition for an architectural project, based on what the jury called “design decisions [that] are focused and disciplined, resulting in something simultaneously abstract and familiar.”

Maybe this studio isn’t an unresolvable paradox, after all, but a perfectly solved puzzle: revealing what makes elemental things so familiar, and familiar things so elemental. 

William Richards is a writer and the Editorial Director of Team Three, an editorial and creative consultancy based in Washington, DC.

Freshly Squeezed: Hanbury Serves Up Its New Creative Collective, Orange Juice

Architecture is an art form that has always been subject to evolution, constantly adapting to the changing needs of society. At Hanbury, we believe that the greatest creative evolution is born from unrelenting experimentation. As the design landscape continues to evolve, we have taken a step back to reflect and ask ourselves some fundamental questions: Who are we? Do we experiment enough? And by that metric, are we evolving enough? Through honest introspection emerged the desire to push beyond the ordinary boundaries of our industry and embark on a journey of self-discovery and growth. Our foray into the unknown marks a new chapter in our story, marked by exploration of new ideas, designs, and passions.

At the center of this new chapter lies a dynamic entity, one that challenges our own preconceived notions through an embracement of untethered creativity. The fuel? Orange Juice, a vibrant punch of energy that powers the team’s relentless pursuit of fresh perspectives. This creative collective set out to create something reflective of their own internal passions and interests that extend beyond architecture’s conventional field-of-view. From film and fashion, to set design and video games, the team draws inspiration from a variety of influences, resulting in designs that are both practical and functional, yet flavorful, thought-provoking, and visually stunning.

Our focus at Hanbury remains on creating designs that we can be proud of. It’s not about following the latest trends like Artificial Intelligence or coding, but rather is representative of an introspective examination of our personal growth and evolution as designers.

As we pivot, grow, and juice more oranges, our warehouse continually expands, and so does our knowledge. With luck, maybe we will be successful in nudging respected professional practice and avant-garde art just ever so slightly closer to one another, aiding in an evolution of architectural expression.

So, where does this journey take Hanbury? We don’t have a clear answer, but we trust our abilities and instincts. So far, we’ve been invigorated by the results. From mulling over neon pink fuzzy chairs to dropping augmented-reality murals, we are embracing the unknown, continuously driven by a love of design, a commitment to creativity, and a desire to set the table with something truly memorable.

Join us as we pull back the curtain and invite you to step inside our ever-evolving think tank, experiential lab, and in-house art gallery to witness the fruits of our exploratory work. Handpicked, pressed, and served in a refreshing glass.

This Member Voice was submitted by Hanbury Orange Juice contributors Jack Wasielewski, Tony Lin, and Alec Yuzhbabenko. A multi-disciplinary architecture, design and planning firm, Hanbury shapes civic and community, higher education, and life science environments and experiences.

Welcome to Orange Juice! We’re excited to share our journey with you and introduce our identity through a curated set of images. In this directorial scene, our pixelated logo takes center stage. Back-splashed are our custom glass orange juice carton, a manifesto poem, and our award-winning AIA film “a dream starts here.” But, let’s not forget the fun – so come on in and join us on set to take some post-worthy pictures!
Have you ever experienced a mural in augmented reality? If not, no fear! Head on over to the intersection of Arctic Ave and 19th street in Virginia Beach to try this one out! (also the project site for our upcoming development, Atlantic Park) IMPORTANT: bring your smartphone. There is a QR code on site that you’ll need to scan with your camera to activate the experience. The painted portion was created by local artist Hanna Kirby, and we added the flying fish and spatial dome. So grab your phone and go check it out!
Buckle up because artificial intelligence is rippling across the design world. With text-to-image AI generators like Midjourney and Stable Diffusion, designers can generate renderings and mood-boards in mere minutes. Just type in your idea, and voila! The AI creates a set of unique images that match your description. But that’s not all – text-to-text generators are gaining popularity too, leading us to wonder if some written content is generated by AI. Is your kid using it to write school papers? Is the very caption you’re reading right now artificial? Who knows! Fun fact – the image on those screens was created using text-to-image AI and helped us curate this shot.
Rounding us out is our fabrication lab! Here, we showcase some of our scale models and the processes we use to bring them to life. From remotely monitoring 3D prints through Twitch to large format CNC milling, we are massive advocates for all things digital fabrication. With so many options and modes of production on display, we hope to inspire you to build something! Going through our line-up, please behold the Norfolk city model in the light blue, and look behind it to find the 3D printers that brought it to life. To the left, all beamed up by the sun, we have a surf park bench. And is that a chapel? Indeed!

Perspectives on Justice: Erica Cochran Hameen on today’s students becoming tomorrow’s architects

Erica Cochran Hameen, Assoc. AIA, is an assistant professor at Carnegie Mellon University’s School of Architecture, where she directs its equity, diversity, and inclusion initiatives, and co-directs the Center for Building Performance & Diagnostics. She holds a B.Arch. from Virginia Tech and a PhD from Carnegie Mellon in Building Performance & Diagnostics, and serves as the Track Chair for the Doctor of Design degree program. Hameen observes that this generation of architecture students arrive at their first year studios with a greater sense of agency than before. That’s good, says Hameen, because they’ll need it to make a difference as the next generation of architects, engineers, and designers. 

As someone who trained to be an architect and now helps designers consider their pathways, how would you characterize the professional landscape today?

In terms of students, they’re coming into the university with more agency than before. It’s exciting because we see students from multiple demographics who are expressing the intricacies and qualities of their demographics, and asking questions about how they can bring their experiences into design. We haven’t always seen that, and we see it today more and more. I see this with undergraduate and graduate students—they’re thinking about things from a global perspective. They’re asking how they can help people in the tropical global south—and these are students in Pittsburgh— who recognize that certain regions are disproportionately suffering from climate change. So, I see a generation of students who are thinking that way—about regions outside their own and regions beyond their experience.

What is the ethical imperative of architecture?

Making our buildings sustainable—and when I say that, I don’t mean just solar panels. We must think about it holistically. Sustainability deals with diversity, economics, and inclusivity. If we’re talking about Pittsburgh, African Americans here have the second highest energy burden rate in this country—which means you are spending a disproportionate amount of income on your appliance, taking buses and rides, cooling and heating your home. It is important to ask: Are you living in a place where your R-value is compromised because of your leaky roof? Are your children learning in a school where the air filters haven’t been cleaned lately and whose walls are crumbling? Do you live in a place where, 50 years ago, a highway was brought through the heart of the neighborhood? All of these things have an impact on our physiological health, our emotional health, and our mental health. 

Before the pandemic, we spent 90 percent of our time indoors. As we migrated to spending more and more time indoors because of the pandemic, it rose to 95 percent. For those without means, low-income Americans—it’s imperative that they have opportunities for quality design. As architects and designers, we have a responsibility to ensure that our buildings don’t leak, have the right R-values, are airtight, and are properly ventilated.

How can architecture co-opt the concepts and practices associated with justice in a way that is meaningful?

Changing our building codes and making certain things a requirement. If we want to right wrongs, that’s what we have to do. If you’re designing housing or schools, it should be a requirement that you’re awarded LEED Gold. All low-income housing should be zero-energy housing. These are people who don’t have a lot of money and disposable income, so why should they pay energy bills? That’s one way to right an economic wrong. Another thing we can do is make post-occupancy evaluations a requirement—as part of our design process. It’s not enough to finish the project. We have to return to it and make sure what we designed is working the way it should. Thermal, acoustical, spatial—all the dimensions. Architects’ fees should be tied to it—and they shouldn’t get the last paycheck until the building is verified to be working as designed. 

I teach a course on Indoor Environmental Quality, or IEQ, and in the second half of the course, students go and measure building environmental conditions—in disadvantaged communities. For one of the class projects, we went into a newly renovated school where we measured CO2 levels 400 percent higher than it’s supposed to be. The facility manager said, “Yes, in this classroom—the kids are very sleepy and the teacher complains about headaches,” and it was because that room had zero fresh air. Windows were sealed and nobody there knew had to adjust the mechanical system to receive fresh air. If there was a requirement for a post-occupancy evaluation and a provision for facility manager training on new systems contingent on the final design and construction payment, the poor air quality conditions could have been alleviated. 

What are some concepts that you think the next generation of architects will have to redefine or, in some cases, define for the first time?

On the technical side, the next generation will need to address where to put the vapor barrier—and this is me wearing my techie hat. The maps that were drawn for America in terms of climate and temperatures are different now. It used to be that we always put the vapor barrier on the warm side of the wall, but what do you do for walls constructed in a colder region with a climate that is now much warmer than 30 or 50 years ago?  The weather data files we were using in our energy modeling simulations were based on temperature ranges and climate data over a 25 year period almost 20 years ago, from 1991 to 2005—the weather files have had to change because our climate today includes noticeably warmer temperatures and precipitation variances. The next generation is going to have to identify what we’re going to do with our existing building stock—how do you retrofit them to prevent mold? I don’t know the answer, but I think my students will figure it out.

Also, I think the demographics of our cities are changing quickly and there are greater desires to recognize and express individual cultures. We must understand that different cultures have different needs—and if you have a client that’s of a different culture than yours, how do you identify and respect what’s important to them, and bring it into your design work? In terms of gender, I challenge my students on how they design bathrooms—why can’t there be gender neutral restrooms everywhere? Why can’t we have changing tables and spaces for nursing and breast pumping in every building? Quality design is also about empathy, and the more we can put ourselves in someone else’s shoes—as people and as designers—the more successful we’ll be in redefining architecture.

William Richards is a writer and the Editorial Director of Team Three, an editorial and creative consultancy based in Washington, DC.

Trible Library Becomes Hub for Student Life

The existing library at Christopher Newport University (CNU) was a compilation of four different decades of construction: the original 1966 one-story library, an addition in 1978, a second addition in 1993, and a major addition and renovation in 2008. This project needed to remove portions of the building, renovate 15,612 square-feet of the earliest building, and add 66,753 square-feet of new construction, all within state guidelines and funding.

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