RaleighFenceCo

If I were to guess which home project would win plaudits from neighbors and passers-by, a fence would languish at the bottom of the list. A fence, after all, keeps people out or blocks their view of a private yard, and as such it's unlikely to elicit comments such as "nice fence,'' "love your fence" and "great fence!" And yet these are precisely the comments we heard from dozens of passers-by and neighbors of every age, ethnicity and gender in the as we built a wooden fence around a corner property in central Berkeley.

Since entering the world of carpentry 30 years ago to work my way through college, I've never experienced such an outpouring of positive comments from complete strangers. There's nothing particularly fancy about the design -- it's just a simple lattice of 2-by-2 redwood -- so people must be reacting to something more than the design. Are they simply offering encouragement to a graying 50-year old and his petite Significant Other? Somehow I doubt it; residential work sites rarely garner more than a passing glance. So why has this fence elicited such spontaneous enthusiasm from passers-by and neighbors alike?

One possibility is that everyone walking by is, in their own way, already an expert. No matter what their age or origin, everybody has plenty of experience with fences; everyone has peeked through boards, struggled to close a dilapidated gate and noted the depressing effect of a sagging chain-link barrier on a neighborhood. No one needs a course in postmodern architecture to decide if they like a fence. But why do people like it? That's harder to pin down, as most of us have a hard time describing what we like about a structure, even one as simple as a fence.

So I turned to two sourcebooks -- "A Pattern Language,'' compiled by Christopher Alexander and his colleagues in 1977, and Edward Morse's "Japanese Homes and Their Surroundings,'' first published in 1886. The first describes timeless patterns that solve urban and residential design problems, and the second captures the mastery of Japanese carpentry in everyday structures: verandas, railings, gates, kitchens and doors.

After reviewing these classics, I'm guessing that we all respond intuitively to these qualities in a fence:

-- Establishes a boundary, not a visual barrier;

-- Employs pleasing patterns;

-- Appropriate scale, mass and style;

-- Handmade of natural materials;

-- Warm colors;

-- Enhances neighborhood/public space.

A boundary, not a barrier

Any design is a solution to a problem, and in the case of fences, the fundamental problem is establishing boundary and privacy. For backyards, a solid, high fence provides the complete privacy and security most want in a private space. But a front yard is visually joined to the house in a way a backyard is not; a front fence must provide access to the public sidewalk and enhance the "curb appeal" of the property.

Front yard security is problematic as well. A high, solid front fence blocks public access and eyes, but it also protects an intruder from "eyes on the street" once he's slipped inside. It's certainly possible to have both. The Japanese garden, for instance, is typically hidden from public view behind solid walls, but less substantial, more semi-private boundaries are often used by entryways and verandas.

Alexander considers a boundary such as a hedge or fence a solution that unites two spaces "but does so without breaking down the fact that each is a separate space." From the many specific ideas on how to accomplish this in "A Pattern Language'' -- "Building walls low enough to sit on but high enough to mark the boundaries," for example -- it's clear the key features of fence design are height and opacity. A fence that is too low may not delineate public from private quite enough, while a tall solid fence adds privacy at the expense of joining the house to the fence and yard.

The obvious way to unite the public with the private while still saying "this is private" is to let light and lines of sight through a fence. There are plenty of ways to accomplish this: white pickets, wrought-iron railings, widely spaced slats or a simple lattice. In our case, people stopped to say that they appreciated still being able to see the flowers in our decidedly ordinary yard. Their simple observation made me realize how much a visually accessible yard can add to a streetscape, and how much a barrier fence can take away from a neighborhood.

While repetitive patterns are employed in construction and decoration throughout the world, Japanese carpenters of old seem to have hit upon an effective way of breaking very simple patterns -- wood slats an inch or two apart, for instance -- into larger patterns, which are then segmented at well-considered points. In sum: pattern without variation -- boring. Pattern with thoughtful variation -- pleasing.

In confessing that we designed this fence, I hasten to disclose that we borrowed freely from others -- the unknown craftspeople who built the many fences we examined and even, on occasion, measured -- and people who work daily with aesthetics, proportion and design: our architect friend and our art professor brother-in-law. We also scoured our photos from trips to Japan, Thailand, China and Korea for clues on height, spacing and patterns.

After studying these photos and others' fences, we ended up with a pattern of spaces about the width of an outstretched hand -- approximately 7 inches -- created by a lattice of 2-by-2s. This simple repetitive pattern was set into a larger grid of 8-foot sections, which was broken by gates and trellises.

(On a recent visit to a ramen shop, we were amused to find the wooden entry screen was a lattice of almost precisely the same dimension -- an outstretched palm.) Interestingly, there's a section in "A Pattern Language" on how multi-paned windows intensify the viewers' experience by creating more views than large openings do. Perhaps this effect helps explain why people seem to like this open lattice of window-pane size squares.

Many patterns -- of planks, lattices or balusters -- seem to work equally well, as long as they're set into a larger pattern that is interrupted occasionally by some feature such as a trellis, bench or gateway.

One oft-overlooked aspect of patterns to consider is the interplay of light and shadow that are cast on yards and sidewalks as the day progresses. Generous openings and differing widths of materials in a fence guarantee that its appearance is, at least in subtle ways, ever changing, depending not just on the time of day but on the angle of approach.

To delineate spaces and still unify house and yard, a fence needs to show some sensitivity to the style of the house it surrounds. Sad to say, there are no prescriptive guidelines to tell us exactly what kind of materials and fence design will work with a specific house; every guide, from "A Pattern Language'' to the latest glossy home improvement magazine, provides only principles and examples. Fortunately, all you have to do to get some ideas is drive around and look at what works and doesn't work on similar homes in your neighborhood.

A good place to start is choosing materials that complement the house. Craftsman-style bungalows, for instance, benefit from naturally finished heavy timbers in gates and trellises, while wrought iron railings on a low brick retaining wall reflect the historic era of a stately manse. In our case, the unadorned stucco walls of the building and narrow yards seemed to call for a fence of warm materials, neither too spindly nor too heavy, and a somewhat formal design that allowed public view of the yard's flowering plants.

"A Pattern Language'' considers gardens, flowers and climbing plants as integral to any unifying design, and a fence is an excellent armature for climbing plants, either on adjoining arbors or trellises or on the fence itself. Over time, such flora brings an unsurpassed unity to structure and garden.

Handcrafted and natural

While it's easy to sound highfalutin about natural materials -- the Modernists termed it "truth to materials" -- it's undeniable that people react warmly to the authenticity of wood and stone. In a world of fake French windows and white vinyl fencing, natural materials stand out. One of the New Urbanist credos is "no material should simulate another material," and the variations of grain and color give wood a charm lacking in materials machined to look like something they're not.

The distance between real materials and everyday experience can be measured by how many passers-by were unaware that our fence's fir posts and redwood 2-by-2s had been sealed with a semi-transparent stain. It also seems that people respond, perhaps almost subconsciously, to the honesty of on-site carpentry. In stopping to touch this fence, they're also looking at how it's put together, and perhaps noticing the imperfections that come of assembling dozens of pieces of wood. This is clearly a handmade structure, and people seem to respond to that handicraft in a way they don't with a factory- assembled fence panel or a white-vinyl picket.

People respond positively to natural finishes on wood fences -- sealers or semi-transparent stains that protect the wood's grains and color variations from the effects of weathering, which soon turns unsealed softwoods such as redwood, cedar and fir to a dull gray. Such sealants require more reapplications than paint -- maybe another coat every two or three years, as opposed to every five to seven for paint -- but the payoff is worth the extra effort, for no paint color can ever match the tones and hues of wood.

If fencing is painted, the "white picket fence" is a classic look; however, warm colors that complement the color of the house and trim can be more effective in unifying the design than a single-color paint job.

I found many lessons in all the feedback from pedestrians and neighbors, but perhaps the most important was the realization that a fence, even a simple one, can have an outsized effect on a street. It can shout "keep out!" or it can welcome participation in someone's garden -- and people will notice, and care about, the difference between the two. A fence is only one small part of a block, but it is a very visible one, coloring it from both near and afar, and as a result it is capable of sending a great many messages to residents and visitors alike. Is this a place that separates public from private but trusts everyone to respect the boundary without resorting to high walls? Is this a street where residents invite pedestrians to enjoy the color and warmth of arbors, trellises and flowering vines as they pass by? Is this a place that views home improvements as both a private and public investment?

The neighbor in Robert Frost's poem "Mending Wall" says, "Good fences make good neighbors," and I would say it's true -- not just in the sense of dividing property but in inviting neighbors to share the small pleasures of one's private garden from the public space beyond.

When planning a fence, consider these points:

-- Build for the long term. Fences that are built cheaply and quickly will look saggy and dilapidated in a few years.

-- Avoid small-dimension wood pieces such as 1-by-2s, as these tend to warp more over time than larger dimension lumber such as 2-by-4s.

-- Avoid designs with channels that catch and hold rainwater; this retained moisture will speed dry rot.

-- Sink posts deep, and use sufficient concrete to firmly secure the posts. Use pressure-treated posts to stave off rot, and select treatments that do not use arsenic. If you're not sure, ask your lumber supplier.

-- Avoid using 2-by-4s laid flat supported only by thin softwood planks, as these fences will sag with time.

-- Simplify staining or painting. Pre-stain or paint all lumber before installation. Seal all wood to be left natural, as unsealed wood will weather to a uniform gray in a few years.

-- Research height and other limitations. Most local building codes allow fences up to 6 feet high, but other restrictions may apply in your city or neighborhood. Residents of planned developments may also have to comply with restrictions on materials and colors.

-- Use recycled materials where possible. While it's very difficult to find enough recycled redwood to construct an entire fence (I couldn't), you might find some posts or pieces that could be used in trellises or integral benches, especially if you're planning to paint rather than stain. (Recycled wood often has nail holes and other surface defects, which can be filled and then covered by paint.)

-- C.S.