The idea of building a simple, rectangular home either from a flatpack or by customising shipping containers sounds alright. I’ve long been interested in pods, partly because of the start-from-scratchiness of it, partly because – done the right way – the completed house would not really be a house per se, but a temporary ‘moveable’ structure, and therefore something that could be perched on sites where other houses can not go.
Driving across the USA was in large part an excuse for meeting pioneers of the small house movement, and people who had for a broad spectrum of reasons decided to buck the trend and take it upon themselves to build the house they wanted, in the way they wanted, and where they wanted. Some of these to my mind looked like gingerbread houses with a suffocating surplus of trimming designed to slot in between normal houses on a normal street. But others were modern, modular, efficient spaces; platforms for a different way of living, and designed to be a more interactive part of the site on which they stood – whether just by orientation and views, or through a much more indoor-outdoor flow as well as a harnessing of what was locally available as in sun, rock and rain with solar panels, natural landscaping and rainwater collection. The houses were fresh and the people building them were as interested in the psychology of societies and impact of environment as in plumbing and wiring. Meeting people doing this stuff was exciting and inspiring. Among the people met, interviewed, featured and filmed in the USA roadtrip were Brad Kittel, exuberant founder of Tiny Texas Houses; Tracen Gardner and Eric Bricker at Reclaimed Space; Jay Shafer of Tumbleweed, and of course, the ever-curious, pivotal figure that is Lloyd Kahn of Shelter
Aside from the finished thing, another part of the appeal of a modular or flatpack construction was the potential to control the design, and to end up with something that suited your taste, lifestyle and budget. I have bought dozens of books (ranging from coffee table pod porn to practical handbooks for the conversion of shipping containers) and I’ve drawn up plans. The notion that I could feasibly create my dream house refuses to go away. However, by virtue of the fact it is quite literally my dream house, I probably won’t do it.
Anyway, that ever present just below the surface interest was piqued by the sight of a glass-sided module in the spectacular setting of Montejaque. Could we buy land and build our own modern home in a cost-effective way? Well, the short answer to that is no. At least, maybe in Ohio but no, not in this neck of the woods. But this thing which I think is an abandoned sales office for a construction project down the hill now on hold until the end of the ‘crisis’, while slightly on the small side, did look quite a bit better than several of the houses we’d so far traipsed around. It triggered a chain of wild thought which eventually concluded with a firm resolve not to travel too far from my own notion of somewheresville.
The abandoned container itself is reminiscent of Prada Marfa. If it was anywhere else people would drive for miles to see it, and read into a message about the topsy turvy world of economics or some such thing.