Chopstick Express Before & After
When Josh and I were working on the Sichuan Bistro, the owners of another Chinese restaurant in the area came in and admired the work.
After a few weeks, they returned and asked if we would be interested in remodeling their restaurant as well.
The ceiling was a great feature, but it wasn't being highlighted at all.
The rest of the room was in pretty bad condition.
Each of the box beams contains 4 fluorescent tubes, but of 36 tubes, only 4 of them were functioning. The walls were covered in a wallpaper that was attached with scotch tape. The flooring was laminate tiles which were rotting in some places due to water damage. But because Josh and I saw so much potential in the ceiling, we took the job. We were given a budget of $2,000 for materials, transportation of materials, etc.
We had no idea what we were in for.
When we took down the wallpaper, we discovered that the walls beneath were a total disaster. They were early 1900's brick walls covered with crumbling plaster, and patches of bright green and purple paint.
We were concerned about our budget, but ultimately we decided that the best route of action would be to put up some furring strips and hang new drywall - a task we were certainly not anticipating. As we were drilling the furring strips into the brick wall with tapcons, some guy stormed into the room from the kitchen, "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?"
We both froze. Our clients crept out from the kitchen behind him timidly, with remorse in their eyes. The man's face got more and more red as we stood there gawking at him, trying to figure out what was happening. "WHAT THE #*&% ARE YOU DOING HERE?"
Gradually I realized that our clients had not mentioned that they were renting that property. Because Chopstick Express has been in that building for about 30 years, we had assumed the clients owned it.
I felt so sick as the guy's veins bulged from his neck while we tried to explain that none of the work we were doing to improve his property, but he was not having it. And understandably so! He had walked into a room that was absolutely torn apart, and I think he was terrified that we were somehow breaking some law, and that he was going to be the one who would get punished for it. We tried to explain that all the work we were doing was not structural at all, but that they were all aesthetic changes. He was unconvinced, seeing the pile of sheetrock we were getting ready to hang over the old walls.
After he screamed and stomped around some more, he demanded that all work stop until he saw our budget, plans, renderings, and contracts. He said he would call his contractor friend to ensure that we weren't breaking any laws, and that we were to meet him at his office the next morning. "This could be a very costly mistake for you" he growled as he left.
Although we were confident we were working within the law as far as the renovation was concerned, Josh and I were concerned that the guy was going to go after us in court for ripping apart his property without his consent, which would be within his rights as far as I could see. I never slept so poorly in my life. I spent the whole night berating myself for making the blithe assumption that our clients owned that property. Never, ever again will I assume that just because someone is willing to dump money into a building, they own it.
The next morning came, and my heart was pounding so hard I could feel my eyes throbbing. Josh, our clients, and I climbed the stairs to the landlord's office like four children headed to the principal's office. We sat down in the chairs in front of his desk, and he stared down at us for what felt like years before asking to see all our documents. We provided them, and his contractor friend reviewed all of it.
The contractor fellow verified that nothing we had planned was against the ordinances for the town.
Instantly the landlord's eyebrows relaxed, and he began to look at the renderings with a little more interest. He asked some questions about the paint choices, lights and cabinets. He grudgingly approved of it all, and we bolted out of there, his threatening admonitions following close behind.
That is one mistake I will never, ever make again.
****
Riding a high of relief, Josh and I turned to the ceiling feature. We worked all night to get the whole thing painted evenly. The next morning, the clients suddenly became hushed and ashen when they walked in. They whispered to each other, and although I couldn't understand what they were saying, I got the feeling it wasn't good.
"Too dark... Paint it yellow instead??"
I was so disappointed by their reaction. They had agreed to painting the ceiling feature red, after analyzing the renderings and pouring over paint colors for at least a week. Josh and I left feeling exhausted and defeated when they opened for business. We had failed to include in the contract that the design shown in the renderings was to be the design we were paid to complete, and that last-minute changes (or changes after the fact) would require a re-assessment of our labor fee. Josh and I sat staring into our coffees, trying to find a solution to the problem without having to re-paint the whole ceiling feature yellow, which would in turn throw off all the other colors we had planned for, and be an extra day of work at the very least. Eventually, I suggested that maybe we could paint the strips on the bottom of the ceiling feature tan, to help break up the boldness of the red, without having to re-do the entire thing.
We tried it that night after close, and the next day, the clients walked in, and their faces brightened. Somehow, the tan strips did the trick! No longer were our clients overwhelmed! That day I learned the delight of a client is the most satisfying thing to see as a designer.
We began painting the walls that night, and the next day our clients came in with more concern. Although we had worked with them to find colors that we all agreed looked good, the clients were once again concerned that the room looked too dark. Josh and I started to realize that the fact that the lighting wasn't updated yet was creating this problem, not the paint colors.
We asked the clients to reserve their judgement on the wall color until the lighting was finished. When we returned from our lunch break, we found a little surprise...
The clients were there, painting over the wall we had just finished with a color we had not discussed!
Not only was the color much more yellow than what we wanted, but they hadn't masked off any of the trim. To make matters worse, they were using rollers for everything instead of using cut-in brushes for the detail work, so the trim was covered in yellow drips and smudges.
After Josh and I recovered from the shock, we sat down and discussed it with the clients. We ultimately decided to work with the yellow color, even though it was not our first choice. After all, our primary goal was creating something that they would be proud of, and a place they would enjoy working in. So we fixed the trim, and re-painted the wall in the new color.
The next day, we CNC-milled three custom wood cabinets for the space, as well as two radiator covers and a shield for the bottom of the steam table. We assembled them in the shop, but because there wasn't enough room for all our cabinets, we had to move them outside, which was nerve-wracking. They only had to be there overnight, until we could rent a truck to move them, but we were worried it might rain despite a clear weather forecast.
In the middle of the night, I awoke to the sound of rain - the only night it had rained in weeks, of course. Since we had covered the cabinets with tarps, we figured they would be ok. When we returned at the crack of dawn the next day, we found that the wind had blown up some sections of the tarp, and the cabinets were soaked in some places, leaving a few water stains. Fortunately they were the sides that would be against the wall, so we were saved!
At last we moved on to the lighting, which had caused so much trouble with the clients. We had these beautiful minimalist pendants picked out to hang over the tables:
We went to the town and got the permit to change the light fixtures, but we realized that it might not be safe for us to install the pendants after all. We discovered that there were some funny things going on with the wiring in the box beams, and found that the breaker box was labeled in very faded Chinese text, so we decided to play it safe and forgo the wired pendent lights. Instead, we installed paper lanterns that plug into an outlet, to brighten the room as the clients wanted until they could hire an electrician to take a look at the weird wiring situation.
Our design intent
The realized project
Josh and I felt VERY strongly that wood floors would be better than the tiles the clients chose, but the clients chose that tile to conserve money, and also for fear that a wood floor would be too slippery. Our concern about the tile was that it would be less forgiving on a floor that is not flat (it is almost 100 years old, after all). Without taking an extra day or so to lay down a leveling compound, the tiles would be very susceptible to cracking. Additionally, it was important that our work could be done during the nights only so that our clients could be open for business as much as possible. Installing the wood floors would have been a much faster process, because it doesn't take 24 hours for the leveling compound to cure, then 24 hours for the mortar to dry, then an additional 24 hours for the grout to solidify. When we explained this to the clients, they insisted that they wanted tile, and said they didn't want us to put down the leveling compound so that they wouldn't lose an additional day of business.
****
This brought up a big decision for us as young designers working with our first set of clients: Is it better to give the client what they ask for (after all, it is their money they are spending), or should you stand hard on what you believe would be best?
****
We made the decision to do what the client asked, and install the 99¢ tiles the clients chose, without putting down a self-leveler.
I regret that choice every day.
Compromising on paint color is one thing. An aesthetic disagreement can be settled through compromise. On the other hand, compromising on the quality of the project (even at the client's request) is something else entirely. I went back to visit the restaurant a few months later and saw two tiles that were cracked and I was instantly filled with regret that I didn't take a harder stand to make sure the floor would be as durable as possible. I may not have handled it perfectly this time, but I won't make the same mistake twice. I think in the future when I am presented with an issue like this, I will absolutely refuse to cut corners. Even if it means that the client choses to hire someone else, that's ok - more opportunities will come along.
What is the most important to me is making sure that my clients have confidence in the quality of my work.
So with the summer drawing to a close, Josh and I had learned an immense amount - far more than I could have learned in an ordinary internship, I am sure. We learned about budgeting of time and money, and to always verify that the client indeed owns the property in question. I learned several ways not to structure a contract, and that there are some cases in which the customer isn't always right. I learned how little cultural differences can lead to big discrepancies in aesthetic preference and business transactions.
Although the summer of 2013 was one of the most sleepless, stressful, and difficult times of my life, it was 100% worth it.