Branching Out

The latest “treehouse” by Black Mountain architect Thomas Lawton, situated in nearby Cheshire Village, is designed for deep contemplation and relaxation.
The latest “treehouse” by Black Mountain architect Thomas Lawton, situated in nearby Cheshire Village, is designed for deep contemplation and relaxation.

Dwelling among the treetops isn’t just for squirrels, birds, and fort-making kids who’ve got scrap lumber and a taste for heights. The latest “treehouse” by Black Mountain architect Thomas Lawton, situated in nearby Cheshire Village, is designed for deep contemplation and relaxation. Cheshire is a community of green vacation homes and full-time residences in the High Windy hills. A forested retreat in this area is for the homeowner who courts blissful introspection.

The upper story will be set among a thick congress of pine and poplar. But the home didn’t get its name solely because of picturesque topography. Lawton and his crew designed the house to resemble an actual tree.

“In the design, we worked to separate and express the three parts of a tree’s structure,” he explains. These elements are “the roots, a solid grounding foundation; the trunk, meaning tall with a vertical expression; and the leaf canopy, expressed by deep overhangs and an interwoven truss system of ‘branches.’”

In Cheshire, he says, there is a whole typology known as “treehouses.” The homes in this category may vary, of course, according to owner specifications and various design embellishments. But all of them, says Lawton, “limit footprint and are intended to be a modern expression of a tower house.” (This particular home, called “Chestnut” for its hue, has two beds, two baths, is 1,365 square feet, and will sit on a third acre.)

That small-footprint/low-impact aspect fits with the calling card of Lawton’s firm: sustainability. It’s a mission yielded in natural materials, airy simplicity, progressive-energy features, and abundant natural light. Strip-style board-and-batten siding gives many of the homes a new-rustic appeal, and while none of the structures are ostentatious, quite a few are crowned by dramatically extended, almost aerodynamic rooflines.

“It doesn’t fit into an established style,” says Black Mountain architect Thomas Lawton about the Cheshire Village “treehouse.” Photo by Tim Robison.
“It doesn’t fit into an established style,” says Black Mountain architect Thomas Lawton about the Cheshire Village “treehouse.” Photo by Tim Robison.

The current treehouse is sided in board-and-batten cedar, and is also creatively topped. In this case, though, the metal roof has been drawn upward, not outward. Its overhangs are four feet, in essence sheltering the house, albeit from a majestic remove.

“The idea with the upper level,” says Lawton, “was to visually separate the roof from the body of the house.” Again, it goes back to the tree design. The wooden trusses and brackets that represent branches “support the protecting canopy,” he explains.

A glass band wrapping the upper story “is essential to the design in the way it brings light through the canopy, and in the way it allows the ‘trunk’ and the ‘canopy’ to be visually distinct,” he adds.  The rough-hewn cladding acknowledges and complements the surrounding “real” tree bark.

The late architect E. Fay Jones, a protégé of Frank Lloyd Wright, eschewed urban architecture in favor of an almost prophetically organic style that he practiced in his native mountains, the Ozarks. Jones’ treehouses, made of wood, accomplished a natural grandeur without pomposity. His most famous work is Thorncrown Chapel, located in the tourist town of Eureka Springs, Arkansas. The structure, flush with laced trusses and paved in glass, seems, trompe-l’oeil-like, to be open to the elements (it is not). Thorncrown Chapel sits on the National Register of Historic Places, though it is less than 40 years old. (The designation is almost unprecedented: buildings this young don’t get honored unless they have surpassed common brilliance.)

The featured Cheshire treehouse, says Lawton, is inspired by Jones’ work, although “I didn’t really try to fit it into an established design style,” he clarifies. He concedes it has notes of modernism and also of Arts and Crafts —but without the latter style’s “common busyness.”

In this fresh vernacular, proper glazing (i.e., windows) is crucial. “With such a small footprint, it was important to visually extend the sense of space to take advantage of the outdoors, to make the inside feel larger,” explains Lawton. “The placement and configuration of the windows serves that function. We also wanted to make sure to have enough operable windows to be able to naturally ventilate: to create good cross-ventilation and draft to cool the house and bring in fresh air.”

Meanwhile, casement windows with muntin strips in the clerestory pull off a rather artistic trick: “They’re designed to abstract and reflect the forest,” reveals the architect.

As with all contemporary southern-mountain homes, however, bonafide outdoor rooms are a must, as well. The treehouse boasts decks on both upper levels, extending the usable space of the living room and master bedroom. Lawton describes the front porch as “a welcoming space by the entry.”

The lower level also has a walk-out terrace and sitting area. This space, he says, “connects to the landscape at grade level.” Because all treetops have roots.

Visit tlawton.com.

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