Writers and social critics have not been shy in expressing their distaste for modern housing developments that feature cookie-cutter dwellings in tombstone-like rows, stretching as far as the eye can see. The genesis of this, of course was Levittown, LI, NY, a vast tract of identical houses built all at the same time. There was a demand for relatively cheap housing immediately after WWII and it was found that building cost could be reduced if the product could be mass-produced.
The now classic joke involves a man coming home from work and wandering into the wrong house because all the houses on his street look the same. Satirists appreciate this narrative so much, it has now become urban legend, appearing in the lyrics of popular songs as in well as in the movies. The funny thing is, despite the ridicule, builders still build this way and people still buy homes in such neighborhoods, even if these are not at all inexpensive. In fact, the price of a home in a planned community is often entirely dependent on location and the ring of the high-sounding moniker the builder was able to come up with.
We ourselves live in such a community for a time. It was actually somewhat of a rarity in that it consisted of three alternating architectural styles: Tudor, Colonial, and Mediterranean. In our immediate vicinity there were other developments, all built roughly within the same timeframe, that contained no variance in style whatsoever and which often were even more expensive.
I can’t say it bothered me particularly, living there. True, the first time I got lost as we all did before the days of GPS.
Still, the idea of living in a house exactly as one’s neighbor’s is strangely troubling. Perhaps this is why one is usually expected to pay a premium for a custom built home, though it may be older and smaller than similar new construction.
The other day, I took my camera to Murray Hill Square in Murray Hill, NJ, an unincorporated area located within portions of both Berkeley Heights and New Providence. Built relatively recently (early 1980’s), it breaks all the architectural rules of planned community construction. Each home there is patently unique.
The accompanying pictures will show that these could have been taken in Williamsburg, VA or in any other painstakingly preserved colonial American village. The homes are expensive. The upkeep of the public areas itself must amount to a small fortune. And, no doubt, the community’s close proximity to a whistle stop along the New York–Gladstone (rail) line adds to its desirability. Also within easy walking distance is a modest shopping center with a supermarket, a couple of restaurants, a (albeit temporary) post office and a liquor store. There may also be a dry cleaners; I forget.
Peter Koelliker; pkoelliker8@yahoo.com
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