Muscal Windows: Symmetry, Rythm & Balance

If the sincerest form of flattery is imitation, then it stands to reason that in order complement something, you must first understand the essential elements you wish to emulate.

As near as I can tell, there are three essential elements of 18th century architecture.  First, there is symmetry -- colonial homes are all basically symmetrical.  Post and beam structures were beholden to the span length/strength of locally available timber.  There wasn't too much creativity in design because, in a truly communitarian culture, where you learn from others trials and errors in relatively new surroundings, things settle at the base and the average.

Second, there is an energy and rhythm -- one that emulates the order and pace of the utilitarian life of the household.  This Old Purple House was, first and foremost, the homestead of a 50-acre dairy farm in a close-knit community of family and more family.  Although rural by today's standards, its location was convenient to the busy road between Portsmouth and Exeter and proximal to a busy ferry crossing.  One can imagine that this house saw a lot of comings and goings.

Third there is the balance of heat, light and draft.  Hearths and windows and doors.  Colonial homes were designed around chimneys as the hearth was truly the heart of a colonial home. Window glass was available (at a premium) so larger windows were strategically located to provide maximum usable light in daytime living areas, while smaller windows were placed in bedrooms to preserve warmth at night and in winter, plus permit airflow in the summertime.

Wood was readily available and cheap, so colonial homes had lots (and lots) of doors.  This Old Purple House is a great example.  It is literally a warren of interior halls and doors, which provide privacy, but also an intricate zone system for heat containment and strategic drafting.  I can almost imagine the ladies of the house moving in some habit-driven dance of opening and closing as the weather and seasons changed.

OK, so based on the symmetry, rhythm and balance we have observed in This Old Purple House so far, we have arrived at the first big decision we will make that effects the facade of the house itself.  The windows.

Last Winter, while we wrangled with the former owners to arrive at a contract price, a squirrel somehow got into the house but couldn't find a direct route out, so he tried to chew one through the mullions between the first course of window panes in just about every window of the house.  We could, of course, buy a gallon bucket of wood putty and start retooling them one-by-one.  But I personally have more important and less tedious things to do between now and 2016.

So, we are looking at replacing windows.  We looked at replacement windows (blek).  We considered new construction windows (and the related detours of retrimming or residing or resurfacing just about every interior and exterior vertical plane of the house in short order -- Cha-ching -- NOT).  And have now come around to the current thought leader: replacement sashes.

No matter which we choose, we will get some significant energy savings (and rebates, we hope) and some  modern conveniences like tilt-to-clean and two movable sashes.  Yay!

So now we are back to the symmetry, rhythm and balance thing.  The windows that are in the house now are not original.   Most in the main house are circa 1950.  Some are double hung (6-over-6).  Some are cottage-style (6-over-9 or 9-over-6). There is little-to-no rhyme or reason to the pain size and proportion.  Pictures we have from the 1920s show enormous 2-over-2-pane style windows on the whole main house.  We know those weren't original, for sure.

This Old Purple House circa 1920

This Old Purple House was in
the same family from 1767
(and the land before that),
until the early 1900s when it
was sold to the Odde Family.

It was called Greenacres then.

Then we took a closer look at those pics.  Colonial folk were thrifty, right?  Reduce, reuse, recycle?  Who had windows in their barn? Ah!  People who had leftover windows from their house, that's who!  So, there were 12-over-8 cottage-style windows with basically square panes... Wait, haven't I seen those somewhere?  Yes.  The "tavern" was a barn then too.  And it got some leftover windows.  Lookie, lookie.  We have old warbly, bubbly glass!  So, now we know (generally) what they had originally.

OK, so here's where we throw it out to you guys for thoughts and opinions.  On the main house, the windows on the first floor are 10-12 inches taller than the windows on the second floor.  So, we can either try to match pane size and proportion (my pick) or we can match pane count and layout (hubby's pick).

Essentially, my way would end up with same-same pane sizes, but 12-over-8 cottage windows downstairs and 8-over-8 double-hungs upstairs.  Hubby's way would be double or cottage in both applications, but the panes would be larger and taller downstairs and essentially square upstairs.  What say you, blog-follower-folk?