Dwell Magazine set out to stage a minor revolution in coverage of design ideas that plant seeds for universal results. So far, we have witnessed a successful coup, one defying the dark notion print is dead. The alchemy? Making the shelter book an indispensable object of desire – one that visionaries reshaping our mod-century landscape simply cannot ignore. It’s no small feat that the magazine keeps on trucking in a disastrous era for the housing industry, proof that visual stimulus propels progress despite the odds.

“Because we offer so much in terms of design, photography and stories being told, it lends itself to print,” observes savvy Senior Editor, Aaron Britt, who adds that the magazine’s tactile allure might not apply to other books, such as his favorite, The Economist. As he sees it, a magazine that seeks to inform without necessarily exciting the senses crosses over more easily to the screen with nothing lost.

“With Dwell or National Geographic, you want to leaf through it forward and backward and that makes it an object.” adds Britt. “It doesn’t mean it is the only thing we can be or are trying to be, but it something we are really good at being.”

Really good for ten years now, the shelter magazine just celebrated a decade in print (it has an online component), a tribute to the fact design professionals value old school reference guides that complement onscreen viewing. A vast majority of its readers are forward-thinking designers, architects, landscape visionaries, and design-oriented consumers. In other words, pragmatic artists seeking to dovetail pages that inspire. In the sense you don’t have to print out an item to tack it on your bulletin board – it actually conserves energy.

At the same time, Dwell considers sustainability in its publishing practices, bypassing a conventional paste and waste process by using certified recycled paper. Its pages feel good on the fingers, less processed than its flashy, glossy cousins. The good pulp might not put the kind of dent in paper use purists rant about, but at least it’s a conscious act which shuns the frivolous alternative (see Neiman Marcus seasonal catalogs). Most likely, Dwell couldn’t live with itself without this commitment.

“Moving to recycled paper is the key to our redesign but taking advantage of the fact that sustainability has always been something Dwell has focused on, we are moving that dialogue forward which is essential to our growth as a publication,” publisher and president Michela O’Connor Abrams told Green Biz.com in 2007 about the resign introduced in February of 2008. It also resized the format from 9″ to 8.375 and along with the paper, began sparing an estimated 930 trees per issue.

You might ask if down deep, Dwell functions as yet another shopping mechanism since it does rely on ads, like most other successful media (even PBS), and does list the resources for the minimalist masterpieces showcased in articles – the tidy prefabs, the highly coveted bedroom additions. The answer is that it cannot deny it is selling something, but along the way, it goes beyond pushing product to achieve behavior modification. Dwell prefers to focus on exceptional design, which just so happens to fall into the green category in most cases.

“In a perfect world, everything would already operate in an efficient minded way,” Britt argues. “If we are successful, we won’t have to have the conversation anymore. It’s like we publish houses that have indoor plumbing. All houses do. We want sustainability to be woven into the built world as broadly as an indoor toilet and electricity.”

Meanwhile, for those needing to go directly to LEED, bamboo and solar concepts, the magazine provides an Off the Grid section completely devoted to sustainability. Much of this content also is cultivated on the web where editors product daily features. “We understand the magazine to be the bedrock of the brand, but Dwell.com and Dwell on Design are important forums to talk about things in the magazine and not in the magazine due to space restraint,” Britt explains.

One is left questioning if this enviable success story would be played out anywhere but San Francisco, a leader in progressive conservation ideas and initiatives, not to mention plenty of money to fabricate what is conceptualized, namely some of the most striking examples of nature-nurtured dwellings in the country. While Iowa-based and NYC minded Metropolitan Home offered up much of the same in its day, it really didn’t do what Dwell does to make us relate. It didn’t capitalize as much on the human emotion driving the design engines.

“Being in San Francisco give us a different purview than other design press,” figures Britt. “We are happy and proud Californians and hope some of that California-ness comes through.”

Most likely it will, as long as those patronizing the book can keep erecting what they conceive. As Dwell reminds us, the bottom line is you can build the best house in the world but we still need a better energy policy in Washington. That, and perhaps a little help from our friends, like new governor, Jerry Brown. It isn’t just a field of dreams. If you build affordable, beneficial low-use – they will come. Read all about it.

Images: Dwell

The post Eyes on Media: Dwell, The Little Shelter Magazine That Could appeared first on EcoSalon.

Metropolitan Home is being put to bed for good.

I suffered reflux trying to digest the death of Gourmet, one of four Condé Nast publications closed recently. I didn’t sample the food bible much but felt nostalgic about it as an American institution. I only picked up Modern Bride a few times when plotting my wedding. (I had the main prop but needed flowers and a dress.)

Now, achy-breaky heartburn ensues from Hachette’s news about dumping Metropolitan Home.

Set to fold after its December issue, the loss of the treasured shelter guide is another casualty of the ad recession – in fact, the biggest casualty to date.

It has taken about 30 years, but the ultimate collapse is what my harshly prophetic broadcast journalism teachers at Northwestern predicted in the early 80s, proclaiming, “Print is dead!”

The grim forecast prompted many of us grad students to seek careers in television, only to make our way back to print eventually. Dying or not, it offered dignity. Print was where the rubber met the road in terms of writing acumen. The words didn’t always have to match the pictures. Imagine that.

I had a personal connection to Met Home, the uber source of swank urban nesting. I began as a fan, dovetailing pages challenging us to uplift our rooms with color, modern accessories, innovative gadgets and accessible art. It had a soft spot for small spaces urban dwellers could afford. Make puny pads bold, we were told.

Later, I became a contributor. When I first hooked up with Met I was a burned-out CNN writer and reporter, frustrated by the network’s ranting, mediocre producers, sensational live coverage and zero commitment to covering visual art.

I got up the nerve to phone Met one day from the Omni to pitch a few story ideas. I was merely a fan. A fan with a good resume: I worked at CNN. I had grown up in the housing design business. I desperately wanted in.

An erudite senior editor, John Sweeney, was happy to bite when I suggested a piece on world-famous pop artist, Kenny Scharf. The magazine was going through that we need hot celebs on the cover phase and my timing was excellent. God, I miss the 80s!

Nevermind that I hadn’t spoken to my college friend in years; that didn’t keep me from exploiting the connection. After all, Kenny and I had slow-danced together like Fred and Ginger in our dorm elevators, singing Cheek to Cheek. He owed me.

I called Kenny and boom, kismet! He graciously invited me to his upstate Hudson Valley Charles Addams-style manse which he had transmogrified into a graffiti palace with his signature cartoon aliens, atomic whirls and swirls. He was even producing ancient-future furniture that was an extension of his art. Right up Met Home’s alley. Lucky, lucky me.

I never turned back after that, and Met Home invited me to continue on as a Southeast editor, contributing cutting-edge articles on inner city housing projects and urban architecture.

I found Met was always on the cusp of all that is modern and functional, all that enhances our visual world, and that happened to include good green living.

The magazine should be proud of its April 2009 eco issue, which, like many of its best editions, entertained and informed while sharing valuable decor resources. This, in addition to consistent annual coverage of “the best little green houses,” and other examples of how the world of design is making strides in sustainable living.

But pride won’t keep you afloat when the dollars go down the drain. The biggest and most prestigious victim of the ad recession has fallen. Thirteen editorial staffers will join the growing list of unemployed journalists, including Donna Warner, the editor-in-chief for the past 17 years.

Warner, who replaced wonderful Dorothy Kalins, worked at Met Home for 26 years, joining shortly after it was founded at Meredith Corp, where it was introduced in 1974 as Apartment Life.

“I created this baby and loved it a lot,” said Warner. “It’s very sad. That’s what happens when you lose one of your children.”

My journalism instructors would boast “We told you so!” And now, I must admit, I  finally believe them. Print is dead.

While I know we will save paper, it just won’t be the same not being able to tear out pages of great sofas and chairs when I’m in the dentist waiting room or at the beauty salon. Saving them on the old Crackberry just isn’t the same kind of tactile experience.

This is the latest installment in Luanne’s column, Life in the Green Lane.

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