Adapting Old Barns

By Elric Endersby and Alexander Greenwood

Something had to be done to preserve old barns. We reached that conclusion in the late 1970s when we determined to replace a fallen barn behind a fine Eighteenth century house we were restoring near Princeton, New Jersey. We examined more than forty forlorn examples over the span of a year before locating one of the right age and framing patterns that also fit the existing foundation. After the arduous disassembly and repair phases were completed, a participatory barnraising culminated the Summer-long endeavor.

But, the end of this fulfilling project also brought a sense of let down. We learned valuable lessons through the experience, and we realized that most of the barns rejected for the original project would soon likely soon succumb to continuing deterioration or demolition in the wake of rampant development. Why not secure a few and market them for adaptive reuse on more hospitable sites? The New Jersey Barn Company, established in 1980, was the upshot of that inspiration.

As preservationists, we spend much of our energies raising public awareness for the historical and architectural importance of these structures, encouraging owners to maintain them on their original locations. But, too frequently that is impossible. Over a quarter century we have rescued more than 125 barns and other endangered structures, reconstructing most of them on new sites across America as summer homes or room additions, offices, studios, stables, and…barns.

Many barn aficionados are collectors who recognize the power of the barn as armature and backdrop for oversized found objects, quilts, posters, sculptures, flags or Navajo rugs. Others seek the solace of less-sequestered seasonal space for family gatherings and getaways, creating a great central space which need not be diminished by intrusive partitions. For one couple the barn satisfied seemingly irreconcilable visions for a vacation house. He, a graphics designer, sought the clean open character of a contemporary house; she, the curator of a historical museum, wanted the texture and traditional integrity afforded by a structure fashioned by “the hand of man.” In the barn both yearnings were sated.

Barns and other buildings offered by New Jersey Barn Company generally date to the years between the Revolution and the Civil War, the great age of timber framing in America. Principal timbers are hand hewn white oak. Only structures threatened on their original sites are removed, many only days before bulldozers take over. Each building is documented through photographs and measured drawings and every timber tagged. It takes two to three weeks to strip a structure of various layers of roofing, sheathing and flooring, the best of which is placed in general inventory. Using a crane, the barns are disassembled, one “bent” (or framing section) at a time, in the reverse sequence to their construction long ago. After the pegs that secure the joined members are tapped out, the timbers are loaded on trailers, transported and carefully stacked in one of the company’s several storage barns. A dozen or more frames are usually kept in inventory.

Eventually, when a frame is sold, the timbers are hauled into the shop where damaged beams are repaired and missing members replicated an exacting process which may require a month or more of restoration joinery. The entire frame is pressure-washed and fumigated just before transportation to a new site. The Barn Company assumes responsibility for raising the restored frame, which takes only a week to ten days.

Potential buyers are urged to consider visiting New Jersey Barn Company’s offices which are housed in a partially restored early Eighteenth century tavern near Ringoes, New Jersey. Scale models of each dismantled structure are displayed along with photographs and measured drawings. Standing examples of past and future projects are available for inspection nearby. For those unable to travel to New Jersey, packets of information, including a sampling of specific structures, are tailored to address the particular needs of the individuals who write or call.

The New Jersey Barn Company not only offers fine timber frames of barns and other buildings, but we also provide design services for their conversions. Dissatisfied in the past with incompatible “improvements” affected to our frames by self-consciously clever designers, both of us, together with several associated architects have since collaborated on more sympathetic adaptive design for most of our projects. Although we apply different strategies to each assignment, a core design philosophy stands behind every solution.

The design process begins with thorough discussion of the client’s specific desires and requirements. Resulting schematic designs are usually developed using different structures from the company’s collection. Alternative plans are purposefully generated at small scale in loose drawings until a single solution emerges, often based on elements extracted from each scheme. More thorough and exacting design development follows, before lull scale construction drawings are produced. The full process may take six months, but the more comprehensive the resulting plans, the fewer changes and related expenses will occur during construction.

Many clients approach the firm, assuming that every feature of a prospective barn house must be carved out of a single substantial frame. They are instead encouraged to consider the selection of a smaller frame to serve as an undivided great hall, housing the living, dining and kitchen spaces, with a loft or two. Smaller timber frames are sometimes added for master bedrooms. But secondary functions are segregated into added wings leantos, silos and the like. Outside, these extensions are detailed to reflect traditional forms typically created during the evolution of a farm. Within, they can be fashioned as new construction, resulting in considerable savings.

The central barn frame is restored as much as possible to its original appearance, as raised in New Jersey, but as many structures are relocated far from home, exterior design and materials nod to local practice and precedent, so the building appears comfortable in its new surroundings. The clapboard and stone footings which originally distinguished a structure in New Jersey, for instance, might well be replaced by shingles and brick if the building is raised again in Eastern Long Island. Similar accommodations have been made for structures welcomed to new sites as disparate as Nantucket or North Carolina, Colorado, Connecticut or Montana.

A call from Texas in 1996 launched New Jersey Barn on one of its most unlikely projects-- attaching a late-Eighteenth century New World Dutch barn to a 1960’s ranch house within the city limits of San Antonio. As collectors of folk objects, the clients were versed in history. They had been researching barns and knew exactly what they wanted to display their finds. They also wanted more room. As the husband explains, “We needed more space in the house and we wanted something real open and informal -- a central space where the kids could bring their friends.” “We realized we were talking about a barn.”

The couple purchased a small lot adjacent to a seven acre protected flood plain, minutes from their downtown office. The husband had happened upon the property with its ranch house, and spent eight hours chatting with the eighty-five year old owner in front of a blazing fire. They discovered they had mutual fiends; the older man’s grandson had attended the couple’s wedding. After two months of wooing the owner with daily visits and breakfasts, they convinced him to sell the property.

A builder himself with a love for vernacular architecture, the new owner could envision how the ranch house could be altered to resemble a low dairy wing that had been attached to an old barn. He and his wife flew east to meet us and look at scale models and standing structures. The Texas couple chose the Barley Sheaf Dutch barn, measuring 33 by 42 feet, that had been rescued in 1980. A winter blizzard extended their visit to a four day stay, allowing them time to discuss the project in depth and work with us and associate architect Matthew Millan to draw up preliminary plans. By May repairs had been completed to the barn which was shipped to Texas accompanied by the two of us, the architect and the crew. The raising took a week, culminating in a party for the participants, curious neighbors, family and friends.

The Texas couple supervised construction and interior finishes, a process which took just shy of a year. The resulting conversion assumes the traditional aspect of the agrarian structure it once was -- sheathed in wide boards, with a standing-seam roof and windows in the large openings once provided for wagon doors. Acknowledging its new surroundings, the barn is also provided with a protective side porch and the chimney and other stonework is laid up in local creamy yellow sandstone.

“To the nth degree the space is what we hoped for,” the husband maintains. The only problem is that they ended up with a very large house: “We have 1,600 square feet that’s basically a living room.” Still, he says, energy costs are comparable to their former house, a third its size. The overall project cost was no more than conventional construction, although he did much of the work himself. The barn is ideal for displaying the couple’s assorted collections, including old wooden bootjacks, dovecotes in various shapes and sizes, colorful quilts, and a fifteen foot standing metal gun, once used as a sign in front of a hardware store. The central fireplace is a natural magnet for gathering. “Where else would you be able to have all this?” asks the owner.

Given the diversity of structures, locations and clients’ needs, there is no single strategy for adapting an old barn. Likewise the final cost for a project depends on regional prices for real estate, labor and materials. The expense of putting up an antique frame is about double that of a new one, but framing amounts to only about 15% of the total expense of a project.

People will pay a premium for an old barn because of its patina and provenance. There’s a satisfaction to be had in these structures that you can’t get from adding a few beams to a new room.” The Texas owner agrees, “There’s nothing appealing to me about new timber frame structures. I like things that were built out of need, built for a reason. I like to see the spot where a horse chewed on a post. It tells a story.”