A Reverence for Continuity
Along a narrow, meandering drive on a 1 700-acre historic estate in the North Cotswolds sits a honey-coloured, oolitic limestone outbuilding — once the private estate’s apple store — where, upstairs, an architectural practice has been quietly establishing their newest rural office. Here, designer Matthew gives us a tour of his workspace and the surrounding gardens, discussing transitions, entrancement with history, and his moral impulse to build sensitively for context and complexity, as he goes.
Words below by Matthew.
Late Summer 2018
I have always been interested in architecture and buildings. This largely came from growing up around my late father’s constant building projects, and the influence of my artist grandmother and her friends. My grandfather was a carpenter/potter and my step-grandfather was a hobbyist jewellery designer also.
There was a turning point, when I became excited about designing buildings, during my first year of university in Manchester. I had bought Space for Art: Contemporary Arts Centre, a book which describes Zaha Hadid’s Rosenthal Center for Contemporary Art in Cincinnati. I found the volumetrics and materiality of this building, along with her artwork, particularly inspiring. It was a realisation of how artistic architecture is and how widely influenced it can be. I relished the challenge of understanding the subject more with the goal of ideally becoming a good, contemporary architect, and I enjoyed reading about the work of architects such as Peter Zumthor, UN Studio, Peter Markli, to name a few.
My university unit was ‘Continuity in Architecture’ which focussed on how relationships between existing environments and contemporary additions can lead to positive transformations or reinterpretations, often within historical contexts. This philosophy has influenced me ever since.
I grew up in Saffron Walden, a medieval market town in Essex, and have fond memories of spending a lot of time at my grandmother’s in Suffolk. I left home to go to university in Manchester where I spent seven years studying and working, then I moved to London for ten years before moving to Oxfordshire in December 2017.
The idea was to move to the countryside for practical and emotional reasons: having a child, deciding where we wanted him to grow up, and the in-laws being nearby in Minchinhampton. Leaving London felt like a wrench but the right job came up and I do not have any regrets.
“Getting to understand the evolution and idiosyncrasies of the buildings, learning about the local vernacular, is often the most interesting part.”
The work load and role of the architect remains largely the same in the countryside, as they are in the city — although the project types are different. The last projects I worked on in London were large-scale commercial and residential projects; I am now working predominantly with existing vernacular buildings which are hundreds of years old and often listed. Although these are smaller projects they are no less complex. In architecture you are constantly learning, whether it be about materials, historical development, M&E, how to manage a design team of consultants, communicate effectively with clients, understand local policy and how it varies from district to district.
My work is predominantly computer- and telephone-based. I can do it anywhere as long as I am able to meet up with clients and team members reasonably easily. I spend about 80% of my time in the office, 20% out of the office, and I think this would be the same regardless of internet connectivity — we still need to produce the drawings and information.
I suppose one key difference is that I am doing more driving and less cycling now, although the commute is arguably less stressful, and being able to go for a walk in the countryside at lunch time is a bonus. It’s a lot quieter here, which I like, having grown up around the countryside and being close to nature. I also work more closely with clients. I get to know their personal interests, design requirements, aspirations — more so than I would on a big commercial project. I don’t feel as disconnected from the people who are going to live in or use those buildings.
The office space itself is still in progress. It used to be an apple store that was later converted into a flat for staff, then recently into an office for Gluckman Smith. We have produced designs for its reconfiguration but this is yet to be implemented. We are getting new desks, a TV for meetings, bookcases…
When I took the job I knew that I was going to be working alone quite often in this location, but that we would also be growing and we are due to recruit here soon. Gluckman Smith also have an office in London so I do stay in touch with the city, although I go less frequently now than when I first joined the practice. The office is at Great Western Studios near Paddington. It’s relatively easy to get to and has a great feel due to its incubator-type layout with lots of small creative companies. Architects must also commit to CPD (‘continuing professional development’), which is another reason to go to London; since the practice is in a shared building with other architects and designers, we can contact one another and say, ‘We’re having a CPD on this subject, do you want to come to our office?’ I think you do need to be able to go to certain events in London, even if it’s once every couple of months, for education and networking purposes — although other cities like Bristol, Bath, Birmingham are probably just as beneficial.
“We have discovered that we need to compromise … We thought it would be quicker and easier to find a place than it has been.”
My wife and I have been looking to buy a place in West Oxfordshire, but we have discovered that we need to compromise. It’s not an easy area to buy in. We thought it would be quicker and easier to find a place than it has been; properties are expensive and very slow to come onto the market. It’s been tricky — but we are guilty of being quite picky. We loved our previous 1950s terrace in Beckenham. It had been designed by my previous employer’s grandfather, Raglan Squire, and was the epitome of ’50s-’60s living: open-plan, split-level with a double-height void and gallery to a roof light over the dining area. It was unique, with a great community of neighbours. Going from that to having the choice of developer-built ’70s–’00s houses or old, awkward, small (for our budget) Cotswold stone cottages, has been difficult.
Because we are both working and have a two-year-old child, the practical aspects win over any other desires — commute time, proximity to nursery and a primary school, distance to a reasonably large town for some shops, being reasonably near a train station, playground, local pubs!
I think when we find the house, it should calm down a bit because we are spending a lot of our time looking at houses, talking to estate agents. Luckily, we have found something after eight months of renting and, fingers crossed, it all goes through.
It seems strange to think of it now, but I was concerned about feeling disconnected here, living in the countryside. London has a buzz to it which is quite exciting. I still get this feeling now when I walk out into Paddington Station after having not visited in a while; or being in the London office and there are lots of young, fashionable people buzzing about while I drink a good coffee; or being able to go to a bar in Peckham and drink extremely good craft beer after work, feeling like I am at a massive party. But often, I find it quite crowded and exhausting. I remember longing to live outside of the M25 — and my early 30s’ social life has been reduced having a child anyway!
I think it would have been different if I had moved totally into the countryside, without having that connection with London. I still have friends in London so it’s nice to know that I can go back there to visit them.
It’s also really important now to try to keep fit. Whereas before I cycled to work, I don’t anymore. I try to go running at lunch.
There’s so much to do in your personal time, just as much as in London I would say. I was looking at going to a pottery class up the road, which is at 6 o’clock on Thursdays. There are farmshops and breweries, and nice little villages you can pop to at lunch in the car within ten minutes… although I wouldn’t do a brewery tour on my lunchtime.
On a sunny day it’s very attractive. I like cycling or driving through villages, such as the Barringtons or Oddingtons. Batsford Arboretum is great to take a toddler to, so is the local playground — it’s all about tiring a toddler out these days. There are loads going on here: festivals, markets, operas, vintage car shows, open gardens, art exhibitions — it’s just finding the time to go to these things. I did enjoy going to a Gypsy Fingers gig at the Prince Albert in Stroud last week, then walking back across Rodborough Commons in the dark with my father-in-law.
“One of the most surprising adjustments for me has been the implications of working with older buildings in rural settings. Working on sites which are within AONBs, conservation areas, and/or open countrysides.”
End Summer 2019
I can't believe it’s a year ago already, but a fair bit has changed. We have a new baby girl now, that’s the latest news. Sophie arrived in May, luckily we had a house and had it pretty well-sorted before then, but we didn’t buy a project so it was fairly minor DIY. The garden still needs a lot of work. The veg patch is going well with the in-laws over helping battle the weeds occasionally!
The office refurb has been on hold as we have been busy on projects and have employed another staff member in the Cotswolds. I think we will need more pretty soon too. The biggest change to the practice is the new partner in London, Phil, who like me also used to work at Squire and Partners. Phil brings another level of experience, contacts, and support to help further the practice’s growth. We also have a new practice manager, Alice, who has been doing some great work helping organise and market the practice along with everything else admin-related.
From a work point of view, one of the most surprising adjustments for me has been the implications of working with older buildings in rural settings. Working on sites which are within AONBs, conservation areas, and/or open countrysides. Challenges which need to be addressed thoughtfully and with an understanding of how proposals might be received by the local authorities. This often means working with a heritage expert or planning consultant. The existing buildings themselves are also sensitive objects, and refurbishment measures need to be undertaken with due consideration of how the existing fabric will react — the appropriate use of paint, waterproofing, insulation, or mortar materials can have more significant implications than on a new building, for example. Getting to understand the evolution and idiosyncrasies of the buildings, learning about the local vernacular, is often the most interesting part. (It’s sometimes a challenge not to get too distracted by the history!) It’s about meeting the client brief and striking a balance between contemporary living and responding sensitively to the existing building and its setting.
Generally, we have been really enjoying life in the Cotswolds and have been meeting more people in similar situations with young children. There is plenty going on: fêtes, fairs, and festivals through the summer to keep us entertained (we went to the Charlbury Riverside Festival the other week), and plenty of walks and good quality pubs. We tend to take day-trips to Bourton-on-the-Water, Burford, the Barringtons — or, more often, just enjoy the garden, go to the park, or walk to the Wychwood Wild Garden. The Wychwood Pub (to name one of many good pubs here) in Shipton-under-Wychwood has a nice garden and amazing food. We also discovered a very pretty, local wood called Foxholes, which is great for walks.
I think if you are considering to leave the city for something more rural, then take the plunge. Life is too short not to.
Favourite way to brainstorm: Sketchbook. On paper!
Favourite building or site: My grandmother’s old farmhouse in Suffolk. It was an artist’s house, a well-proportioned brick set of farmworkers’ cottages which were knocked together. It had big sash windows which commanded views over arable farmland. Your senses were overwhelmed every time you went in. The smell of woodsmoke, stone, oil paint and turpentine, wax, bread baking, old books, leather, oranges, cobbled floor, animal skulls, records…
Recent go-tos for inspiration: Pinterest, Architectural Press, and books. We have quite a few books. I think when you spend 90% of your time looking at a computer screen, you enjoy the opportunity to look at a book.
A book that wholly changed your perspective? For an Architecture of Reality by Michael Benedikt. It says that architecture isn’t just about creating spaces to house activities; it’s about creating experiences which might include holding a nicely designed doorknob, or feeling a certain texture under your feet when you are walking through a space, or creating the right resonance in the space, the right light. It’s about all the right elements coming together. Architecture and good design brings value to that because we are not just thinking about square footage. It’s how you want to feel in that space. Going beyond basic stuff.
I hope designing and building a home for my family becomes a reality in my lifetime.
Published on: 21 January 2020. Edited by Fields in Fields; photographs by Fields in Fields, taken at Gluckman Smith’s Cotswold office.