On a recent chilly afternoon I decided to stroll through some cozy neighborhoods in Arlington, Massachusetts. Here along the slopes of Arlington Heights up to the town border with Lexington, there's a treasure trove of houses from the 1920s and 30s. It's a pleasant walk that also takes you by some fine nineteenth-century homes. The hills of Arlington Heights form a great promontory overlooking the Boston basin to the southeast with fantastic panoramas of the city. On this walk I chose to explore the less dramatic western slope. I parked along one of the side streets near the top of the Heights and wound my way downhill, enjoying the homes and their gardens.
During the nineteenth century, a number of families built impressive houses in the Heights, some of them with rooftop lookout porches.
During the nineteenth century, a number of families built impressive houses in the Heights, some of them with rooftop lookout porches.
While it's easy to spot clusters of similar houses (a sign of cookie-cutter developments to come?), most blocks offer enough variety of exterior detail and landscaping to prevent monotony. Lot sizes and setbacks are irregular, often for no apparent reason. The street grid has no one pattern. Arlington Heights is a neighborhood that developed over the period of a century, in small bursts of construction. Somehow it has grown together comfortably without a master plan. The properties are well tended, but not showy.
One of the most pleasing features of Arlington Heights is its lack of pretentiousness and the evident affection residents have for their homes, whether modest or grand. There's little sign of professional landscaping. Fences are few; here and there the humble privet hedge serves as a soft boundary line. The neighborhood is blessed with many mature oak trees.
Between 1838 and 1859, members of one extended family built three homes kitty-corner from one another. The trio still stands. Here are two of the houses, looking hale and hearty after 170 years:
One of the most pleasing features of Arlington Heights is its lack of pretentiousness and the evident affection residents have for their homes, whether modest or grand. There's little sign of professional landscaping. Fences are few; here and there the humble privet hedge serves as a soft boundary line. The neighborhood is blessed with many mature oak trees.
Between 1838 and 1859, members of one extended family built three homes kitty-corner from one another. The trio still stands. Here are two of the houses, looking hale and hearty after 170 years:
One of the most charming features of this neighborhood is the occasional lack of sidewalks, as you can see in front of this house. These unexpected greenways recall the original rural character of this area. I also like the fact that the rear additions to these handsome old farmhouses don't overpower the original structure.
The neighborhood features some pretty turreted Queen Anne homes such as this exuberant example:
Note the stonework on the first floor corner as well as the porch columns. The same type of local stone is used on a wonderful Craftsman bungalow downhill. One garage on another property is built entirely of stone:
Many builders made use of round rubble stones for foundations and columns, as was advocated in the Craftsman home manuals of the early 20th century. Probably most of these stones came from onsite excavation work.
Speaking of garages, this neighborhood retains a few examples of early 20th-century garages--structures designed for automobiles rather than horses, but much more decorative and less intrusive than today's gargantuan versions.
Sometimes a modest garage stands behind the house and provides some visual interest to the property as in this example:
Today's home buyers want their garage attached to the house so that they can drive "inside" with their groceries. I don't feel so fond of my car that I need it or its fumes that close. And why do we need so much blacktop for our cars? Remember this older type of driveway? Much more earth-friendly in my opinion. Less pavement, less storm run-off.
Back to houses . . .
The neighborhood features some pretty turreted Queen Anne homes such as this exuberant example:
Note the stonework on the first floor corner as well as the porch columns. The same type of local stone is used on a wonderful Craftsman bungalow downhill. One garage on another property is built entirely of stone:
Many builders made use of round rubble stones for foundations and columns, as was advocated in the Craftsman home manuals of the early 20th century. Probably most of these stones came from onsite excavation work.
Speaking of garages, this neighborhood retains a few examples of early 20th-century garages--structures designed for automobiles rather than horses, but much more decorative and less intrusive than today's gargantuan versions.
Sometimes a modest garage stands behind the house and provides some visual interest to the property as in this example:
Today's home buyers want their garage attached to the house so that they can drive "inside" with their groceries. I don't feel so fond of my car that I need it or its fumes that close. And why do we need so much blacktop for our cars? Remember this older type of driveway? Much more earth-friendly in my opinion. Less pavement, less storm run-off.
Back to houses . . .
Many homes in Arlington Heights show the low-slanted roof lines, deeply overhanging eaves, exposed rafters, 6-over-1 double-hung windows, and natural stone foundations characteristic of Craftsman-style homes. Below is a nice asymmetrical variation on the American Foursquare:
I like the two banks of triple windows on the façade of this house and the smaller mullioned window to the right of the front door. When you look up to the rooftop gable, you see a similar rectangular window opening where an identical mullioned window has probably been replaced. Craftsman architecture uses simple means to add interest to modest buildings--notice how the arrangement of windows on the façade avoids the bland symmetry of many New England Colonials and Capes. Also, the high stone foundation necessitated by the rocky building site offers additional visual texture to this simple shingled structure and visually extends its modest dimensions. Happily, the side addition echoes elements of the façade, so the home's enlargement didn't result in visual incoherence. The eye also enjoys the unequal distribution of window mullions above the plain bottom sash--another example of Craftsman asymmetry. Finally, I can't help commenting on the pleasant tension created between solidity and movement when one looks at how this square-rectangular form sits so securely yet lightly on the sloped lot.
Maybe this play between house and slope explains why one often finds bungalows on hillsides in New England. There are a number of such homes in Arlington Heights and East Lexington:
More on hillside bungalows in future posts. Most of the those I saw in Arlington Heights sit along level streets. Some are modest story-and-a-half structures with closed-in front porches. I toured one such house that happened to be for sale. It was being marketed as a good "starter" home for Arlington. Alas, the original windows were gone! Here's a similar house on the same block:
See that funny little window tucked above the front gable and positioned diagonally in line with the roof slope? Maybe this was a little joke on the part of the builder--an eccentric gesture to distinguish this house from others of the same model.
During the period 1900-1940, many middle-class homes were ordered from catalogs of companies like Sears & Roebuck and built from kits. Hence the term "kit house." There are a number of kit houses in Arlington Heights. On one block I encountered a quartet of identical bungalows:
Builders like duplication because it reduces their costs; homeowners like customization because it expresses individuality. Here they've reached a something of a détente.
On another block, neighbors with similar bungalows have achieved a nice degree of differentiation:
Another pair of "twin" houses stand side by side a few blocks away. These handsome bungalows are unusual by virtue of their stucco siding and tiled roofs. It's a look I've seen in other neighborhoods, such as the Oakley Country Club area in Watertown, but I usually equate these features with California Mission style bungalow.
Stylistic variety within a street scape is not always a good thing, however, as the next photo demonstrates:
What's wrong with this picture? The middle house. The suburban split-level design comes from a different planet. Too bad it landed here. Its streamlined design and stark white exterior affronts the architectural character of the street, indeed, of the entire neighborhood. The lot was once probably occupied by a stable or other outbuildings belonging to the Queen Anne on the corner. Luckily, such instances of disharmony are few in Arlington Heights, and I highly recommend a stroll through its streets.
During the period 1900-1940, many middle-class homes were ordered from catalogs of companies like Sears & Roebuck and built from kits. Hence the term "kit house." There are a number of kit houses in Arlington Heights. On one block I encountered a quartet of identical bungalows:
Builders like duplication because it reduces their costs; homeowners like customization because it expresses individuality. Here they've reached a something of a détente.
On another block, neighbors with similar bungalows have achieved a nice degree of differentiation:
Another pair of "twin" houses stand side by side a few blocks away. These handsome bungalows are unusual by virtue of their stucco siding and tiled roofs. It's a look I've seen in other neighborhoods, such as the Oakley Country Club area in Watertown, but I usually equate these features with California Mission style bungalow.
Stylistic variety within a street scape is not always a good thing, however, as the next photo demonstrates:
What's wrong with this picture? The middle house. The suburban split-level design comes from a different planet. Too bad it landed here. Its streamlined design and stark white exterior affronts the architectural character of the street, indeed, of the entire neighborhood. The lot was once probably occupied by a stable or other outbuildings belonging to the Queen Anne on the corner. Luckily, such instances of disharmony are few in Arlington Heights, and I highly recommend a stroll through its streets.
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