Building a House on Bedrock or Life as Art

by Radley Williams

Nancy Copley and her husband Paul run the Hyssop Viandes Bakery in a cube shaped building at the end of Lucas Avenue Turnpike in Accord. They make sourdough breads that are so touched and kneaded and attended to that you can taste the creativity in each chewy bite. I had tried to sell her advertising but had been flatly denied. Usually I take rejection as a challenge to persist. But the sound in her voice was strong, which was compelling in a different way. I was curious about the substance, the being-ferment from which it arose.

"We make bread using the traditional methods," she said. "We don't need to advertise. Our breads have integrity."

This word, integrity, seems emptied of meaning by Madison Avenue marketing. But its implications are interesting, suggesting completeness, wholeness, and at the same time virtue and honor.

"The marketplace is not a place for creativity," Copley suggested. "It is a place for cutthroats."

Intrigued by her approach I asked Copley if we could meet and was invited to her home. After a lengthy drive along several narrow roads in the backwoods of Accord, Amara and I arrived at Copley's residence, which has been an all-consuming project of some twenty five years.

From the driveway we traversed a raised walkway, like a sluice funneling visitors into the house. Copley is an architect by training and her house looks more like a sculpture or a monument than an abode. She coined the term "Diamond Design" to describe the structure of the house. Its top-like shape rises organically from the forest floor.

"Have we arrived at Area 51?" I asked.

As we walked up, a portal opened in the side of the awesome structure. The 12' door lifted upwards, the bottom of the solid oak piece tilting out until the door was horizontal. Copley was framed in the huge doorway, turning the crank that opened the door, and looking very small. The effect was complete as I looked into the house and saw clear to the other side. This was the inner facet of a crystal, the edge of a diamond.

"There is nothing you can calculate in the structure of this house," Copley explained. "It's all intuitive."

We are given the tour. The house is built around a forty three foot tower, which 65 year-old Copley built by hand, stone upon stone. The tower rises dramatically, sloping with a graceful strength upwards on each side. It is prominent both within and outside the building. For Copley, each part is as important as the whole.

"I am very sensitive to the natural shapes of the stones," she said. "The quarry owner lets me pick through the piles of rubble to find just the stones I want."

Inside, the house feels like a cathedral. Giant beams stretch from the girdling edge of the diamond many feet to the ceiling, supporting the roof, springing upward at a 60o angle. Windows and lights provide a consistent balance of natural and artificial light, and an antique pipe organ rests on a platform nestled into the alcove halfway up the tower. The organ was rescued from a condemned church in upstate New York. In between laying stone and baking bread, Copley practices Bach fugues.

"The roof is the main feature," Copley explains. "All around the house are hickories, oaks, gray beaches, hemlocks. It's like sitting in the woods under an umbrella."

From the outside, the unusual shape is surprisingly unobtrusive. It seems a natural human extension in the realm of nature. The copper roofing blends with the colors of the forest.

"The feeling I'm trying to accomplish," she said, "is that the house is growing out of the site."

Going back through the giant portal we travel to the side of the house where the tower gracefully descends. Copley had been building a fountain when she slipped and fractured her ankle. She bemoans to us the loss of time at work on the project, as she navigates her property on crutches.

The lower entrance will traverse the fountain via a series of stepping stones rising only inches above the water. Such creative details are sprinkled throughout the house.

Copley's explanations give the impression that, although planned intuitively, her work was not blind. Every aspect of the plans, the land, the atmosphere, of the site and the interior of the house, were known and actively considered before the project began. She describes the as yet unfinished details as clearly as the work that's done. I asked her if there has there been anything unexpected?

"The light has been the biggest surprise," she says. "Every day is different. Most houses you can't get the feel of the light or the change of seasons. Here you can."

Copley began the project with her former husband who died unexpectedly twenty years ago. Since then she has devoted her life to the house. After a period of mourning, she picked up and continued alone.

All of Copley's resources have been poured into the project. The door alone cost $5000.

"I can't go out to dinner," she laments. "All I can think of is how many bags of cement I could buy with the money."

Copley builds her house using the same approach required to create fine sourdough breads. And the house seems to rise, naturally, with a life of its own, in the way that a loaf of bread does.

"In the bakery developing formulas for sourdough is very intuitive. You have to use your senses-how it feels, tastes, looks, smells. We are constantly adjusting."

How does a person arrive at the necessary determination, passion and insight to carry out a project of this magnitude? We see examples of people devoting themselves, almost insanely, to a project. Usually they are striving for fame, money, or power. They become presidents, heavyweight champions, Nobel laureates. But it is rare to find someone whose work is hidden, who gains nothing material for the effort, who invests all their resources in the project. Copley's results are buried in the woods and unfinished after twenty five years of unrelenting effort. There is very little external impetus. From whence does such determination spring?

According to Copley the key is to look beyond ordinary thinking, to paint outside the lines.

"The most important thing," she said, "is to go beyond the limits."

PULL QUOTES:

Copley builds her house using the same approach required to create fine sourdough breads. And the house seems to rise, naturally, with a life of its own, in the way that a loaf of bread does.

"I can't go out to dinner," she laments. "All I can think of is how many bags of cement I could buy with the money."