New Next to Old: Neighbors from Different Eras

The juxtaposition of old and new architecture is a good conversation topic any day of the week for me.

The intention is never to convince anyone that one building is “better” than the other, but rather an opportunity to weigh the pros and cons of both and hopefully learn something along the way. We all come to the conversation with our particular biases, which is what makes the conversation interesting. Wouldn’t this make a great class? Or walking tour subject?

The images associated with this post are of house numbers 173, 179 and 185 Davids Lane in Water Mill. The first, number 173, is commonly known as the David Halsey House, built for him circa 1760, who the road was also named after. This house stayed continuously in the Halsey family until taxes and upkeep became too much of a financial burden. It was sold not too long ago to a developer who received permission to tear it down but who never did and now that approval has expired. He has said he would give the house away for free but there it still sits. Some have of course said the house has black rot, blah, blah, blah. But I and others see a glorious preservation endeavor ripe for the taking.

Next is number 179, a very nice and very large house built within the last couple of years chock full of all the features and attractions that were so popular during the building heyday of not long ago: gambrel roofs, transom windows, high ceilings, open floor plan, three-car garage, farm field views, lots of fireplaces and so on.

Last but not least is number 185, built circa 1915 for William S. Halsey, a descendant of David Halsey.

So how do we go about comparing a new house sandwiched between two pieces of Water Mill history (i.e. a 250-year-old house and a 96-year-old house)? Dive in, I guess. Right off the bat I see a power struggle and wonder which way the development of the street will go. Will #173 succumb to the tests of time and fall or be torn down and then more large “spec” houses continue to appear enveloping #185? Will people hire architects to design houses nearby that are original and inventive and modern yet harmonious with the nearby historic architectural character? Will #173 survive and be restored and added onto? Or will a little of all scenarios occur so that those who want something along the lines of #179 can live happily scattered in amongst historic and traditional styles and families? I think the last scenario sounds great but I’ve always been an idealist.

Aesthetically speaking the three make for an interesting evaluation of the evolution of architectural trends, with about 90 years missing in the middle of course.

The oldest represents a quality of vernacular architecture, without embellishment, and without design innovation, but certainly representative of the success and affluence of the family who built it: two-and-a-half stories, no trim embellishment or depth of overhangs/eaves, no porches, simple gabled structure, straight-forward volumes. Practicality at its finest; beautifully simple.

The next oldest house would be more representative of architectural design trends of the early 1900s where more embellishment and design creativity came into play. Strong trim detailing, deep — even bracketed — overhangs, cross gabling, decorative window sizes and varying muntin patterns, bay windows and columns.

Finally, the most recent house is a melding of traditional architectural features seen all over the Hamptons but put together in perhaps not as sensitive a manner. I find the first story rather high-waisted, the chimneys too high, that the windows have too many types of muntin patterns, a bombardment of shed dormers, and the little sweeps to each lower gambrel slope whimsical in a not so good way.  The 1915 house has a lot more embellishment and decorative features, and yet it’s the newest house that seems too over-the-top. It is large, but its size is not offensive to me. If I put my hand over the garage wing it immediately improves (make it detached and set back, perhaps connecting it with a pergola). Then take away the “sweeps” and the uppermost central shed dormer, and change the muntins in the windows above the entry porch to match the others on the second story, and you’ve got a much nicer house.

Wasn’t that fun? I’m sure I could find another juxtaposition of houses to do the same with one of these days.