The invisible hand

 Since I was an undergrad architectural student, I have always been fascinated by the concept of invisible design - where the result fits so perfectly in its setting that it looks invisible or timeless. This was almost certainly inspired by a house that my dad designed, that I have always regarded as his masterpiece. His client was a botanical artist and the site was very heavily vegetated. The plan tried to minimise the loss of any trees and large shrubs, and Anita Fabian spent many hours on site in the initial weeks, carefully transplanting the smaller flowers away from the house footprint. The finally completed house, with its low lines and natural materials, was completely invisible from all viewpoints, concealed by the dense vegetation, and meeting the clients' brief exactly. 

I have used this philosophy in my heritage work, in particular at the village of Rhodes in the Eastern Cape, aiming for a very modest interpretation of the Victorian architecture for the new houses that I have designed. But more about heritage another day. Today I want to look at a much smaller project - the refurbishment of a ceiling in a 1930s house in England.

This ceiling has had a troubled history, including a substantial extension to the kitchen to form an L-shaped series of interconnected spaces with the main kitchen storage and wash-up at the end of the long leg and the original kitchen area, now with the cooker, in the short leg. The corner of the "L" is the dining area. With so much going on in terms of functionality, the refurbishment of the ceiling over the original kitchen area needed a very subtle touch.

The ceiling after many hours of scraping off old wallpaper and even some tile grout

The existing ceiling was a map of many generations of different surface treatments, and had also been subject to several leaks from the bathroom, directly above. My sister and other family members had already spent quite some time and effort removing the old layers of finishes, and some of the stains from the leaks kept re-emerging, even after some trial coats of paint.

Our first task was to stabilise the various textures and surfaces, and at the same time, seal the surface from staining and leaks. We used a paint-on preparation, which was an undercoat, sealant and bonding liquid all in one. As one often finds with an undercoat material, the coverage looks very disappointing, with all the old stains and changes in surface still fully visible. This is because the manufacturers focus all their attention on the functional properties - sealing and providing good adhesion for your final finish.

We then had the most difficult decision - whether to attempt a skim-coat of plaster, or use some other finish. Both my sister and I had some rudimentary experience of plastering walls, so we knew just how difficult it was, and the thought of trying our hand at a ceiling was overwhelming. We had some advice from an experienced contractor on the materials to use, and the kicker was that several of the materials could only be bought in bulk, way more than we needed or would ever use again.

So we investigated "plan B": using lining paper as a way of covering up the "history" of the ceiling as preparation for the paint. Lining paper is fairly common in the UK as a way of creating a smooth base for paint or patterned wallpaper, especially on dry-wall construction. It is a thick, fairly porous paper, which is applied with wallpaper glue.

Before going back to the hardware store, we took careful measurements of the ceiling so that we could purchase the correct quantity of materials. One always needs a bit extra with papering, as walls are seldom built square, so one needs to accommodate the slight angles. Once we had the paper, we could work out a detailed layout based on the exact paper width, to minimise joints and to work around the central light fitting. Most important in the layout is to avoid very thin strips, as these tend to pull away and fall off the wall or ceiling. We could then cut all of the panels, leaving 5 to 10cm at each end for irregularity. 

We were fortunate to have a plastic tablecloth, and could use this on the dining table for putting on the wallpaper paste. We used powder glue that one mixes with water, as we found a couple of packets left over from a previous job. This is much more cost-effective than ready-mixed glue and is very simple to prepare. 

We read up on papering ceilings in a DIY book and on the packaging for the lining paper, but our first panel simply dropped onto our heads! I then remembered one of our dad's tricks with very thick paper - put on one generous coat of paste and leave it for ten minutes, then put  on another coat and immediately stick it to the surface. Eureka! We were very lucky in our layout to be able to line up the first panel with the one wall, so we just needed to trim the two ends, which we did with a very sharp craft knife.

Papering up to the light fitting

Now came the most precise part, working around the light fitting: here we took very careful measurements and used the light cover to trace out the shape. At the same time, we took measurements of the position of the screws for a clothing airer that hangs from the ceiling. We decided that the most accurate way of papering around the light would be to cut the paper in half and work from the light towards each side. In the end, even with all the careful measurements and strategic planning, we still had a bit of a gap between the one edge of the paper and the fitting, but we cut a small filler piece which ended up being concealed by the light cover.

We had started from the easiest side, leaving the intricate cutting and the most uneven surfaces to the end, when we had developed a system and some proficiency. The final product was most satisfying, especially after a coat or two of paint. The net result is an invisible mending job - even a few days after everything was back in place, we could hardly notice that we had done anything at all.

The final result

While it is often tempting to do a DIY job that one really notices, a reward for the thought, effort and expense that goes into it, the most successful projects are sometimes those that nobody even notices, blending seamlessly into the rest of the space.