The 2014 Environments for Aging Design Showcase event, held in Atlanta, featured a diverse jury of professionals: architects, providers, academics, researchers, consumers, and regulatory representatives. It was my first time to judge and I didn’t have a solid sense of what to expect. However, as a marketing consultant working with senior living communities and designers, I’ve seen plenty of great creativity.
Upon arriving in Atlanta, at the site of one of last year’s winning design projects, we quickly broke into small groups of three or four, each group judging a selection of properties for the final list—which we reviewed all together the next day. What ensued was a total immersion process in senior living design across every type of community imaginable.
Perhaps the most amazing first layer of experience was that—upon first glance—every design looked like the ultimate senior living utopia, as appropriate to its level of care. Slowly but surely, the laser-like focus of the design minds in our group began to drill below simple aesthetics and fasten onto omissions, oversights, and disconnects in virtually every design. These jurors had the ruthless eye of an oncologist searching for any shred of malignant tissue. At first, it all seemed like an exercise in fault-finding. Time and again, my bubble was popped.
But I realized how these designers saw themselves: as advocates for those who would inhabit those designs as real buildings. Then, their hard scrutiny became a virtue. Because, when an elevator shaft really is in the wrong place, every resident and staff member will pay in extra time, steps, and energy for years to come. And that long, straight walk from the outmost resident area to the lunch room might seem like refreshing exercise to a 30-year-old, but it can seem like the longest mile to an 80-year-old with a walker.
Interestingly, the few minutiae that the design minds missed, the savvy director of nursing or provider on the jury would catch. While the designer might think that pass-through door in the bathroom wall for meds and personal items is trendy, the nursing mind sees potential for contamination and dampness. In fact, no design emerged totally unscathed.
What soon became apparent was that designing for senior living communities requires a mind that factors age-centric questions into the design equation at each and every step of the program. What wasn’t so obvious at first was the core ethic of caring that brought truly great designs to light. In every case, a design triumph revealed a deep sensitivity to the future users.
For those who might think that designing for senior communities is a kind of backwater in the architectural world, I would suggest it’s actually the headwaters of architectural talent. A great many designers can create beautiful and functional space—for the rank-and-file population. But integrating those elements around the special age requirements for food, comfort, healthcare, exercise, social settings, and diminished cognition for seniors is design at its most accomplished.
At the end of judging, it was clear which designs were both beautiful and fully functional—and, as such, deserved to win. Although the two days flew by, the heightened sensitivity to senior design elements will stay with me for a lifetime. Even as I arrived at the airport for the flight home, I found myself analyzing the airport for intuitive wayfinding, signage, and overall hospitality. Frankly, I wasn’t impressed. I may have to become a senior resident one day to finally enjoy great design.
Bill Pemberton is senior vice president, strategic communications, for Forté Group Inc. (a marketing firm dedicated to senior living based in Dallas) and a board member with SAGE.
