Zanny started barking when the FedEx truck arrived at the curb around 11 a.m. today. Little did I know she was announcing the delivery of my advanced copy of Stylish Sheds and Elegant Hideaways!

I opened the padded envelope from Clarkson Potter so quickly that I got a paper cut, but no bother…it was worth the pain because I knew what was inside. What an exciting feeling to hold this volume in my hands, to feel the slick, glossy jacket wrapped around a hardback book bound in two shades of sage green, to flip the pages (c-a-r-e-f-u-l-l-y at the top, right corner, Robyn) and then see Bill Wright’s gorgeous photographs return me to the many magical destinations we’ve visited in the past few years. 

How odd, to read the words I wrote with such intensity (and almost always while on a crazy deadline) as they looked up at me in a friendly, familiar way. What a gift to have been able to explore this notion of a separate, backyard destination, and take the journey with so many wonderful shed owners to discover their stories.

There are some very special people to acknowledge, and I’ll be thanking them again and again. First of all, my collaborator and creative partner, Bill Wright, photographer extraordinaire. We had a fun and compatible adventure documenting nearly 40 locations, 28 of which appear in the final book. You don’t really know a person’s true character until you have to work side-by-side with him at 4:30 a.m. (after going to sleep at midnight the night before), schlep photography equipment together, and realize he is letting you be bossy when he really does know what he’s doing! No words can fully explain my gratitude, Bill. We got through Stylish Sheds with only a few ”I’m about to kill you” moments — moments that we thankfully laugh about now.

Doris Cooper, our visionary and big-picture editor, believed in this idea. I am grateful that she was willing to trust her gut, trust our creativity and support us as we pursued this dream. I’m ready for the next big thing and hope I can repeat the experience with her at the helm. Marysarah Quinn, the incredibly gifted designer and art director, took a pile of photos and pages of text and conjured up a jewel of a book that really sparkles. All I can say is “wow,” Marysarah. You gave us your best and it feels great to hold the finished evidence in my hands. Finally, a big bouquet of thanks goes to Sarah Jane Freymann, the agent who “gets it,” who represents us so well, and who inspires me, makes me laugh, and gives me hope.

All these accolades will be repeated in two months when our official on-sale date arrives, April 29th. But my birthday is this week, and I’m tickled for the early B-day present.  

Thought I’d post a few photographs of the real thing, and share some lines from the introduction, entitled: “Escape to your own backyard.”

. . . The human need for a separate place appears in literature, speaking to the ideal of ’sanctuary’ in our personal lives. In his book The Poetics of Space, the French philosopher Gaston Bachelard wrote, ‘The recollection of moments of confined, simple, shut-in space are experiences of heartwarming space, of a space that does not seek to become extended, but would like above all still to be possessed . . . [it] is at once small and large, warm and cool, always comforting.’

Bachelard’s thoughts on shelter resonate with me, as do the words of architect Ann Cline, who calls her backyard shed a ‘hut.’ In her book of essays, A Hut of One’s Own, Cline describes a journey taken by many of us (if only in our dreams): ‘Nowadays, the woman - or man - who wishes to experience the poetry of life . . . might be similarly advised to have a hut of her - or his - own. Here, isolated from the wasteland and its new world saviors, a person might gain perspective on life and the forces that threaten to smother it. Only in a hut of one’s own can a person follow his or her own desires - a rigorous discipline . . . . Here, a person may find one’s very own self, the source of humanity’s song.’

This is all lofty stuff, isn’t it? Well, there’s more. After quoting the academic and professional people who inspire me, I needed something solid, rooted to the earth. I turned to carpenter-philosopher, John Akers. A profoundly wise craftsman, John designed and constructed several sheds that appear in our book’s pages, including four structures for Kathy and Ed Fries and one for Edgar Lee. Here’s what John has to say, quoted in the introduction:

“I’ve seen so many situations where people have slowed down because of adding a shed to their property. They experience something intangible when entering their sheds. Maybe it transports them to a simpler time.”

What this carpenter-philosopher has to say makes a lot of sense. The modern shed may be a purely practical solution that expands the square footage of one’s living space, or it may be a simple sanctuary in the garden. But either way, it is a gift. John sums up his observations with a laugh: “I guess you could say my motto is ‘build a shed and change your life.’”

Amen, brother.

As long ago as the Tong Dynasty (616 to 906), Chinese scholars and poets sought refuge in small, distant places - such as a pavilion - to write, observe nature, and seek understanding.  Powerful and universal is the desire to separate from everyday life for quiet, spiritual, and artistic pursuits.  I was reminded of this notion, one that bridges cultures and centuries, when taking a pre-tour of Liu Fan Yuan, or the “Garden of Flowing Fragrance,” at the Huntington Library, Art Collections, and Botanical Gardens, in San Marino, Calif., near Pasadena.

On a crisp, sunny January morning, June Li, Chinese Garden curator, and Lisa Blackburn, Huntington’s communications coordinator, escorted me behind the construction barriers to stroll this magnificent new garden, which opens to the public this weekend.

With an initial phase that includes a 1.5-acre lake, a complex of pavilions, a tea house and tea shop, and five stone bridges, the $18.3 million project has been a decade in the making. It covers about 3.5 acres of a planned 12-acre site.

Amidst architectural majesty of carved stone and wood, handmade roof-tiles, and a dynamic entry wall that undulates like an ancient river, appears the most arresting visual sight: Di Lu Ting, or, the “Pavilion for Washing Away Thoughts.” Other features of this garden are pristine and elegant, but the pavilion is humble by comparison.

The Pavilion for Washing Away Thoughts

This rustic thatched structure, situated a distance from grand pavilions, soaring moon bridges and pebble-patterned courtyards, appears at the edge of a rushing stream in a canyon-like setting. Constructed with traditional post-and-beam craftsmanship, the round, open-air shelter orients its occupant’s eyes upstream, past mature winter-flowering camellias, toward the heart of the Chinese Garden.

A couplet is inscribed in Chinese characters on two wood columns:

“Flowing water can purify the mind; Fragrant mountains are good for quiet contemplation.”

(by Shi Tingquan, also known as Richard Strassberg, professor of Chinese at UCLA)

June Li told me that the 21th century Chinese landscape designers who worked with the Huntington included the thatched-roof pavilion as a symbolic reference to Chinese literary traditions. Ancient poetry and essays, she says, “talk about scholars wanting to retreat to a thatched cottage or pavilion by a stream.”

It is pleasing to see this peaceful, soul-nurturing place at the wilder edges of the Chinese garden. Just viewing it reminds me that my interest in the architecture and design of sheds and hideaways is nothing new. Centuries ago, on another continent far from here, others sought solitude to pursue art and beauty. 

In an article I wrote about the garden for the San Diego Union-Tribune, I ended the piece with this paragraph:

For anyone living in the fast-paced, twenty-first century Western world, time spent in this “living painting” is to be savored. When you visit, perhaps you’ll recall the story Li shares about Tao Yuan Ming, a fourth-century Chinese poet whose favorite flower was the chrysanthemum: “As we all do sometimes, he was frustrated with a life of compromises. So he retired to his garden, which for him was more of a form a protest to uphold his moral principals, rather than just giving up. He desired the ideal of living a simple life.”

“The Shed” is a bimonthly online magazine published by my British shed friend, Alex Johnson. Alex’s Shedworking site is updated daily with news and features about the work-at-home (but in a backyard shed) phenomenon. The site receives more than one thousand hits a day!

This past December, I ran a Q&A with Alex about his popular blog and I learned about his related venture, “The Shed.” In its third year, this mini-magazine has more than 1,500 readers around the world. You can email him at alex@splashmedia.co.uk to receive a free subscription.

Alex invited Bill Wright and me to be guest contributors to the February 08 issue of “The Shed.” We submitted a piece about one of our favorite shed-makers, Ryan Grey Smith of Seattle-based Modern Shed. Alex’s space was limited, so he had to cut the story it considerably. But just for fun, I want to include the story here in its entirety (below). Bill’s photos illustrate a wonderful backyard escape owned by Irv and Shira Cramer in Berkeley.

Hillside hideaway: Irv and Shira Cramer originally installed a simple backyard structure to give their teenage children a place to escape. Instead, they appropriated the serene, garden getaway for themselves. [William Wright photo]

Shedquarters: An architect’s own tool shed gets dressed up for his clients’ backyards 

Measuring 8-by-6 feet with a starting price tag of around $6,000, Ryan Grey Smith’s Modern Shed is one of the most affordable additions one can make to a house. Except it’s not attached. Smith, a University of Southern California-trained architect who logged years working in the corporate environment, returned to his native Washington State in 1997. His move was prompted by a chance meeting with the international glass artist Dale Chihuly, another Washington son.

“I ran into him at a lecture and four months later, I was working for Chihuly Studio, running the architecture department,” Smith marvels. He managed countless Chihuly installations, including “In the Light of Jerusalem” and the “Bridge of Glass” in Tacoma. The job entailed complex layers of project management, lighting design, engineering, site coordination and more.

Designing and installing large-scale installations of Chihuly’s glass sculptures was exciting for the young architect. But after six years, he was ready to work for himself.  In 2003, Smith launched his own architectural firm, Grey Design Studio, continuing the business name that his grandfather Larry Grey, a graphic designer and illustrator, started in the late 1920s. “I wanted to have that family connection in my studio,” says Smith. Much like his mentor Chihuly, Smith blends art and design with a strong entrepreneurial streak. “I started working on local architectural projects, but that expanded to designing furniture and lighting. When I couldn’t find something, I decided to make it myself.”

This problem-solving approach inspired the original shed that Smith created for himself in 2000. He and his wife Ahna Holder, an artist who also trained in architecture, live in an urban Seattle neighborhood. “We don’t have a garage, a basement or an attic and we were struggling with what to do with tools and the lawnmower,”  he says. “We considered something (mass-produced), but those sheds never did much for me. Instead, we wanted something that matched our modern aesthetic.”

Smith designed a 10-by-12 foot box-style structure with a slanted galvanized metal roof, pitched at a 7-degree angle. It had a vinyl tile floor, a single door and an open-air transom around the top. “Originally, I didn’t want any windows, but I gave it a transom opening to allow in light and air for circulation,” he explains. The exterior was finished with 12-inch bands of Hardy board, a concrete-based material that can be painted, attached with exposed fasteners.

Constructed over a few weekends with a limited budget, the shed was “durable, inexpensive and easy-to-build,” Smith says. He set it up in the backyard on deck-style concrete pier footings and filled it with rakes, shovels, paint cans, power tools, the lawnmower, an artificial Christmas tree and the yard waste bin.

A client noticed Smith’s cool shed asked him to upgrade the storage design for a backyard studio. “He worked at home and this offered a great solution,” Smith says. “It solved a space problem for him immediately and he didn’t have to do an addition, which would have been three-times the cost.” It wasn’t hard to convert the tool shed into an office design with the addition of glass in the transom opening, two 30-inch-square crank-windows, and insulated maple plywood walls.

Since then, thanks to interest from editors of design publications and customers who have seen Modern Shed displays at shows like CA Boom, a West coast contemporary art show, the firm has grown from a side venture to a major endeavor, one that Smith juggles with his architecture and product design work. The studio turns out three to four sheds each month, shipping a “kit” containing all the pieces (wall panels, floor, roof, siding, windows, door and assembly instructions) by truck to customers all around the country.

Most clients begin with Modern Shed’s standard design and add custom features, such as French doors, second windows, insulation and paint color. Styles range from children’s play structures and potting sheds to studios and even potential dwelling units (starting at 475 square feet for around $40,000, these are often purchased for vacation property or rental units).

Smith thinks the inherent flexibility of these little buildings has fueled their popularity with artists, writers, musicians, software designers and owners of home-based businesses. “It’s expensive to add onto a house, but these sheds are an easy idea for people to grab onto.”

Functionality aside, Smith acknowledges the emotional attachment people have to a separate backyard structure. “Everyone has a need, whether it’s for a workshop or a getaway. People always connect to the basic sense of shelter, just like when you’re a little kid and you have a playhouse.” 

Resources: Modern Shed, (206) 524-1188
Web: www.modern-shed.com 

 

Reached by descending 25 steps to a garden far below their Berkeley home, the Cramers enjoy this separate and soulful place for music, reading, and conversation [William Wright photo]