Rediscovering Passion By Design

Rediscovering Passion -- By Design

"Good morning, Max, Mr. Legere would like to see you in his office."

What now? I wondered as I made my way to the president's second floor corner office.

My name is Max Bennett, a recent university graduate and currently employed by a Quebec City Developer/Contractor. Well, technically, I can say that I am employed. Actually, I'm working my last three days after being given a layoff notice almost two weeks ago, so I was pretty sure I wasn't being fired.

Why was I summoned? Maybe, the economy had a made a sudden turn around and I was being rehired. Dream on, I told myself as I approached glass walled office. Mr. Legere looked up from his computer screen and beckoned me in.

As I walked toward him, he extended his hand and shook mine with a firm grip.

"Sit down, Max," he said, directing me to the leather sofa and armchair near the stone fireplace.

"Tough times," he continued. "Have you made any plans or commitments beyond this week?"

"No sir. There doesn't seem to be any positions available here in town. I thought I might head back home to Calgary."

"Before you make a decision to do that, consider this. I was speaking to a local architect last night, who is in immediate need of a structural engineer." Legere said.

"The project is a short term one, with no promise of employment beyond that. The job starts today. It's yours if you want it. Interested?"

"Yes!" I replied enthusiastically.

"Great. I will call and advise that you are on the way." he said as he made some notes on a sketch pad on the coffee table. Accepting the note, I read,

Windsor Dumont Designs. Take Route 22 east for 17 kilometres, turn left at Windsor Creek Road and proceed.75 km

Thanking him, I gathered my personal articles from my workstation and said goodbyes to department work mates. From there I proceeded to my pickup truck and headed east on Route 22.

Twenty minutes later, I crossed the Windsor Creek Bridge and turned onto a narrow gravel road which paralleled a lazy creek. After passing dilapidated log house, I arrived at an old mill and parked beside the mill pond.

I approached the building, taking note of an old weathered sign high on the wall that signified

WINDSOR MILLING COMPANY - 1824

A smaller, more modern sign hung off a wrought iron bracket beside a wood and glass door.

WINDSOR DUMONT DESIGN STUDIO.

Entering with nervous anticipation, I introduced myself to a middle-aged woman at the reception desk. "Hi, I'm Max Bennett. Mr. Legere sent me about the engineering position."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Marie. Please follow me." She stood and led me to a cluttered workstation in the back corner of the impressive rustic office space. The high-backed chair was turned away toward the window overlooking the mill pond. It was occupied by a woman talking on a cell phone.

Completing the call, she stood and spoke with a slight French accent. "Max? I am Sophie Dumont. Welcome, let me show you around and describe the project challenges."

Shaking her hand, I said "I love your office. Thanks for the opportunity."

"We are just three employees here. Most of our work is designing conversions of older heritage buildings for use as residences, boutique hotels and occasionally, small commercial projects.

Currently we are designing a residence for Pierre and Jennette Martineau, and that is what we need you for. It is a conversion of a church built in the late 1700s. Let me show you." She went on, unrolling a set of plans and sketched renderings onto a large table in the centre of the room.

A young, attractive woman, working at a nearby computer workstation, stood and approached.

"Hannah Montaire, meet Max Bennett." Ms. Dumont said.

Returning attention to the plans, she went on "We completed the design for this a few weeks ago, and the construction work has already started. The clients now want the outside wall opened up to add large windows and the roof extended to create a covered outdoor space. We need your expertise urgently to modify the structure to allow this. A site visit will be required to confirm the existing structural details."

That was the start of what was to be my brief career with Windsor Dumont Designs.

There was little time for personal interaction. As a man who loves women, I couldn't help myself from watching them while they worked or moved about the office.

I got a better understanding of Marie more quickly the others. Mid forties, plain looking, friendly but reserved, intelligent were the descriptive words that came to mind when I assessed her. Her many roles included receptionist, office manager and bookkeeper.

On a lunch break a few days earlier, Marie gave me a bit of the back story on the office space we worked in. The building had been a flour mill in operation for almost one hundred and ten years, before it was shut down, then abandoned in the 1930s.

Marie informed me that the current office portion was originally an annex of the mill. It consisted of a stable for horses, a grain bin and a warehouse in which the milled flour was stored. The large access doors had been removed and replaced with windows, providing natural light to the space and a stunning vista of the mill pond and forest beyond. She went on to say the milling part of the building had been stripped of the machinery and redeveloped as a residence.

When I asked about the Windsor connection, she brushed past it with no further comment and made no offer to impart any information about Sophie Dumont, other than to say that she lived in the residential portion of the building. As Hannah and Sophie approached us with their lunches, Marie changed the subject to the autumn colour change of the leaves.

Hannah was in her late twenties, I guessed. Attractive but reserved. She occasionally made pleasant conversation, without offering or asking for any personal information.

As I got to know Sophie Dumont better, I liked her more and more. She was the epitome of professionalism, very attractive, but somewhat aloof. Sophie was about 5' 8" tall and average weight. That was kind of hard to tell because I only ever saw her in baggy blue jeans and loose-fitting blouses or sweaters. Using the graduation date on her architectural diploma, I did a mental calculation that put her in her early 40s.

Her hair was short and she never wore makeup, at least in my presence. Large brown eyes and a heavily freckled round face were her most outstanding features. No question, she was a beautiful woman. Her infrequent smiles lit up the room.

Under pressure to complete the design, we worked long hours, including weekends. We finally finished on a Saturday, two and a half weeks after my first day.

The Martineau's arrived in the early afternoon for a final review and sign off. They gushed over the revised design and thanked the entire team for the 'above and beyond' involvement.

Sophie beckoned Hannah, and they exited the office space through an interior door marked 'PRIVATE'. The two women returned shortly after with a tray of glasses, bottles of wine and a sumptuous looking charcuterie board.

I mingled for a bit, before excusing myself to sample the charcuterie. Sophie soon appeared beside me and spoke. "I am so grateful for your contribution, Max. The clients are ecstatic. Life around here is not always so hectic. We handpick the projects we take on and purposefully limit the work in progress to one contract at a time."

"It's been a great pleasure working with you all. I will miss it greatly."

"Would you consider staying on and working on our next project?" Sophie asked and I felt a little ping of excitement.

"Yes..... yes, I would like that very much."

"We are taking a few days to recharge. Will you be ready to start on Wednesday?"

"Count me in." I replied enthusiastically.

"Great. It will be another residence. This one is a 90-year-old, two-story school. Concrete construction, with four classrooms up and four on the main level. There will be several structural challenges to deal with, including cutting out a portion of the second-floor slab, adding a curved staircase and removing interior walls to achieve an open concept on the first floor."

The four days of waiting to get back to work passed slowly. When Wednesday finally came, I was the first to arrive, eager to get back to work.

My engineering input was most essential in the early stages. By the fourth week my part was mostly done, and I wondered how much longer I would be employed.

I was really enjoying working closely alongside Sophie. More and more, she would ask my opinion on façade details she was considering. Although it was not a structural component, I seemed to impress her with my aptitude for the aesthetics. Not long after, she would simply outline her conceptual vision and let me run with it to work with Hannah to finalize the details.

We completed the design a few days ahead of the designated six-week schedule, with mixed emotions on my part. I was proud that we had completed another successful design. But I had only been contracted for this project. With no commitment from Sophie beyond that, I felt an emptiness looming.

This time we had a small inhouse celebratory wrap up.

Hannah and I were left to enjoy some cold beers, as Sophie and Marie departed to the residence. A while later, Sophie reappeared with two mouthwatering pizzas. They tasted even better than they looked.

"How did she get pizzas delivered out here," I asked Marie.

Laughing, she replied "She made them."

I realized that I had a lot to learn about Ms. Dumont.

Sophie approached me as Marie, Hannah and I prepared to leave., "Can you stay a little longer?"

"Yes of course."

As the others left, she went to the fridge and brought back a beer for each of us.

"I fear that I am not going to like this conversation."

"What are you afraid of?"

"That this is goodbye. I will be sad to leave."

"I have a proposal. Hear me out and say 'Adieu' or 'Oui'"

"OK. I am intrigued."

"First" she spoke while reaching out and clinking her beer against mine. "Thank you. You have been a valued member of our team again."

"Sounds like a 'but' coming."

"Yes there is, but, it doesn't have to be bad. You are astute enough to understand that we do not need, nor can we justify anything more than a part time structural engineer. I also doubt that part time will work for you."

"Correct."

"I have been impressed with your flair for the architecture as relates to the exterior design. Call it 'curb appeal' if you like. Would you consider coming on full time to provide engineering when needed, but learning more about architectural design, under my tutelage?"

"I am going to accept this offer so fast that I will lose any bargaining power I might have. The answer is 'OUI' in capital letters."

"That pleases me greatly. Come to work on Monday ready to learn."

The new arrangement gave me a better feeling of security. Although Sophie and I spent a lot of time together, she was not forthcoming about any personal details of her life. She did exhibit indications that she was comfortable around me, and I was becoming more and more attracted to her.

Challenges abounded in our current project as we struggled to adapt a two-hundred-year-old, three story warehouse beside the river, into a twenty room boutique hotel.

One especially frustrating Thursday, Sophie and I worked late into the evening. We were preparing for a teleconference, set for midmorning the next day, with our demanding client.

Nearing mid night, Sophie said "I'm exhausted and mentally blocked. Let's pick this up early. It makes no sense for you to drive home. You should stay in my guest room."

Yawning, I replied "No argument here."

Following her, I entered her residence for the first time. She led me through the main floor space to an open stair to the second floor. Low lighting prevented me from making out many details.

Reaching the upper level, she stopped at the first door. "This is guest room. You'll find the bathroom across the hallway." she said, nodding at the open door beyond.

"Breakfast at 6:00 okay?"

"Fine with me. Sleep well."

When I came down just before 6 o'clock, I noted that it was snowing. The flakes were the heavy wet kind and there was a significant accumulation already.

Sophie was in the kitchen making bacon and eggs, wearing her usual office apparel. "Coffee's ready on the buffet. Help yourself."

With coffee in hand, I took in the surrounding space. "Mind if I look around?"

"Feel free." Sophie said, setting plates and eating utensils on the breakfast bar.

"Five-minute warning."

The living room space was spectacular. A stone fireplace on one outside wall was flanked by large French doors leading to a massive deck area.

A part of the large slow turning water wheel was visible through a glazed portion of the adjacent wall. The wooden axle extended into the space with a series of pulleys, gears and belts, which drove a large circulation fan, suspended from the underside of the roof. There was nothing left of the milling machinery. I was awestruck by the massive hand-hewn oak beams and columns. The entire space was furnished to perfection with overstuffed furniture and heavy wooden accessory tables.

"Come and get it." Sophie called, bringing me back into the present moment.

Watching her eat, I was struck by her earthy beauty. She caught me staring at her but said nothing nor did she seem bothered by it.

"I had a thought last night for a solution to our problem." I said. "What if we flipped the floor plan with the kitchen and dining area at the other end? The view of the river would not be compromised?"

"I had considered that earlier, but there are issues with delivery access." Sophie replied.

"If we excavate a lane at the south end and build a retaining wall, the access works. Plus, trucks and service vehicles would have easier access and be hidden from view."

As she pictured the suggestion in her mind, a big smile broke on her face. "That's it!

My instincts about you were correct. I think there might be a repressed architect hiding in there."

After relocating to the design studio, I sketched the revised concept. Sophie looked out the window at the snow falling and said "It's going to be a bad one. I am texting Hannah and Marie to stay home."

I set up the video screen and camera while Sophie organized the presentation. We were ready for our Zoom meeting.

At the appointed time, the client started the meeting aggressively, suggesting he was disappointed with the project progress so far. Sophie punched back. I was impressed by the way she stood her ground and soothed him at the same time, before presenting the solution. The meeting went on until just past noon and concluded with everyone happy.

"Let's adjourn to the kitchen. Sandwiches okay for lunch? I also think we have earned a beer." Sophie said, looking as relaxed and happy as I had ever seen her.

On our way to the kitchen, the lights flickered, before the power failed completely.

Back in the residence, Sophie stated "With power off, we have no heat. You start a fire and I'll take care of feeding us."

As we were enjoying chicken sandwiches in front of the fireplace, Sophie said "The forecast is for continuing snow through the night. The guest room is available for as long as you need it. Will pizza be okay for dinner? There is a built-in pizza oven in the fireplace."

"Wow. Are you kidding? The pizza you made before, was as good as any I ever had."

When she came back from making pizza dough, she offered a beer and sat on the sofa beside me. "You know, I feel like I should apologize for how busy I have kept you over the last few weeks. It's hell on the social life. Your girlfriend must think I'm a tyrant."

"No girlfriend. I have dated a little but haven't found anyone special."

"I am curious as how you chose Architecture as your career, particularly this discipline?" I asked.

Sophie paused and there was a perceptible change in her mood.

"Sorry. It seems like a sensitive topic." I said quietly.

"No.....it's alright. There are just many associated memories."

After another pause, she continued. "It was always a dream of mine to become an architect. I was going to design skyscrapers and hotels, hospitals and schools.....I was accepted into the program at McGill University right out of high school. My dream was on track until the middle of my third year, when our professor brought a good friend in as a guest lecturer. As an architect, running a one-man operation, he specialized in the conversion of Heritage type buildings to luxury residences. I was blown away by the designs he created.

As an assignment, he gave us a challenge to create a conceptual plan and budget for a family residence.

He provided a package that included floor plans and numerous photographs of three buildings. Each one was at least one hundred years old. The choices included a church, a firehall and a flour mill.

We made our submissions when he returned three weeks later. More than half the class chose the firehall. Three, including me, picked the mill. He selected one student to make a presentation to the class for each building, giving his critique on each at the conclusion of talk.

I was chosen to present the mill house project, and was very apprehensive, given the critical assessment he had for the first two presentations. As I concluded, he made a couple of suggestions, but said overall it was a very impressive concept.

With his guest lecturer responsibility completed, he returned to Quebec City.

Near the end of third year, he contacted me and offered me a summer internship at his studio in Quebec City. That man was, Matthew Windsor.

I accepted and that experience ignited a new passion in me. I knew right there that designing glass, steel and concrete monuments to architecture would not be my future."

"So that's the Windsor in Windsor Dumont?" I said. "I assumed it was chosen for this location."

"The Windsor Mill was created by Matthew's ancestors. Several generations before, Colonel Nathaniel Windsor was granted this tract of land by the King of England. He fought with General Wolfe and was wounded on the Plains of Abraham."

"The Battle of Quebec, 1769" I said somewhat excited. "Wolfe defeated the French, led by General Montcalm. I am a huge Canadian history buff."

"You certainly seem well versed in it. Anyway, in the early years, they built and lived in the log building you passed on the way up here.

Nathaniel ran a logging operation and when the timber was depleted, his sons unsuccessfully tried to farm the land. In 1824, with his grandson running the family business, the flour mill was constructed. History indicates some of the finest flour in Quebec was milled here. It was shut down and abandoned sometime in the early 1930s. That is the Windsor connection."

"How did it become the studio and residence?"

"As the last remaining heir to the Windsor estate, Matthew inherited the property when he was 19 years old. It was his dream to convert it to a residence and sell it. After graduation, he started his architectural business, putting the mill on the back burner.

I did not hear from Matthew again until just before graduation. Answering his query about what plans I had after grad, I told him I had accepted a position with a large firm in Montreal. He said he was happy for me, if that's what I wanted, but would I consider working with him? I resigned from the other firm immediately and relocated to Quebec City a week later.

His studio was a converted garage at the rear of his residence in the city. One Friday, only weeks after I started, he said he was taking me for lunch. After a drive from the city, we arrived at this mill. I immediately recognized it as the project I had chosen in his class. As he led me through the door, he said 'welcome to our new office.'