I ran into an interesting reaction to my last blog — the one about diving boards and slides — that forced me to meditate on my approach to this series of articles about elements of aquatic environments that I like and/or dislike.

“Must everything,” I was asked, “be about aesthetics?  You yourself say that diving boards and slides are a blast, but then you treat them as though their negative effect on the looks of aquatic environments is the sole criterion by which they should be judged.  Isn’t it enough that they’re fun and that consumers want them?”

That’s a fair question, but my answer nonetheless is, “Yes, it’s all about aesthetics.”  Even in light of the enormous amount of fun I’ve had with chrome-braced, blue-fiberglass diving boards and big, gangly plastic slides, I’m convinced that, as an industry, we will be more successful with homeowners if we make our products easier on the eye. 

I am, of course, playing the provocateur here.  I want to draw out designers and builders who’ve devised good, aesthetically pleasing solutions to the ugliness that too often comes with conventional, off-the-shelf aquatic-related products. In fact, I yearn to be challenged by evidence that these products can be made visually inoffensive.

Obviously, this isn’t just about boards and slides:  Portable spas, for example, come to mind as visual misadventures that demand some sort of aesthetic retooling or on-site masking.  And please don’t get me wrong:  I love the way portable spas are engineered, the way the seats are contoured, the smooth finishes and the often-sublime vigorousness of their jet action. 

As a longish creature with a creaky frame, I have always been an advocate for (and beneficiary of) hydrotherapy, and I’m the first to concede that even the best jet system I’ve encountered in a concrete spa is no match for even the merely good jet systems deployed in common portables.

But for all that inherent virtue, portable spas are woebegone mutts that run the range from mud-fence homely to garish, intrusive hideousness.  I remember judging NSPI Design Awards competitions back in the day and being desperate to reward the least among portable-spa evils — and on occasion withholding any vote at all because I just couldn’t bring myself to relent.

Yes, I have been impressed at times by the way portable spas can be integrated (read:  hidden) within the field of a good-sized redwood deck.  And I was pleased back in the late 1990s when at least one portable-spa manufacturer started breaking tubs out of their skirts and installing them directly into concrete decks alongside pools.  But it’s no more than lipstick on the proverbial pig:  The plastic rims always intrude, and the insulating covers these watershapes simply must have never, ever looked good.  It’s even worse when the spa is big and the cover requires some sort of gantry-like retracting system!

As with boards and slides, I will be utterly delighted if someone sets me straight by showing me a good, full-featured portable spa that avoids the usual visual sins these products seem doomed to commit.  I’d love to share the evidence here, believe me.  Until then, I will raise my flag of aesthetic preference on the side of well-integrated concrete spas — and just wish things could be different!

Have you developed a solution to the visual challenges posed by portable spas?  If so, please let me know in the space below — and feel free to send images to me at jm@watershapes.com.  

My feelings about diving boards and slides have changed through the years.

When I was a kid, there was no poolside sight more welcoming than either one of those accessories.  The clowning that took place on and around diving boards was, for starters, unmatched in hilarity, and there was nothing quite so satisfying as hearing the awesome slap of a well (if unintentionally) achieved belly flop — but only if the perpetrator was someone else.

As I mentioned a couple of blogs back, I was also lucky enough to swim at a local junior high frequented by highly competent springboard divers.  All of us sought to emulate their peerless stylings, but of course none of us came anywhere close to being as good as they were — and unfortunately, their examples didn’t fire any of us up to pursue that graceful discipline any further.

Another local public pool had a diving tower, and I’ll never forget the rush that came with finally taking that big step off the edge:  The short-lived sensation of flying was amazing, and as many young men learn, I quickly discovered the pain-diminishing advantages of keeping toes pointed and knees tightly together. 

Slides were just as thrilling.  When I was small and was spending more time in pools than at the beach, they were still fairly rare.  But by the time I reached adolescence, slides were more common, and among my peers doing insane things on them was a distinct rite of passage.  I did, however, draw the line when a friend decided to combine sliding with skateboarding — and did so on one of those models with a sharp turn at the base. 

Later, trips with friends included visits to parks with natural pools and waterfalls that we turned into slides — after we surveyed the sites for hidden obstructions (with age comes some wisdom).  Usually, the sliding part covered no more than a few feet and led to a drop into deep water — the perfect combination, I thought, of thrills with scenic beauty. 

Now jump forward a couple decades to my WaterShapes era:  In the here and now, I still recall the joys of diving boards and slides, but I suspect I’m far from alone in no longer craving the excitement and, as a parent, having misgivings about what are obviously inviting nuisances.

But there’s more:  With even greater passion, I have come to dislike the visual clutter these accessories so often represent.  And that’s true even when designers and builders do all they can to make the boards, platforms, chutes and tubes seem “naturalistic.”  For the most part, they just don’t look good, and I have yet to see anything that brings to mind the waterfalls and deep pools I cavorted in as a college student.

While it’s no big revelation that what thrilled me as a kid now puts me off (and makes me happy not to have a diving board or slide with my swimming pool — no need to tempt my own kids or their harebrained  friends), I find that the emergence of my design sense of what does and does not work visually is even more compelling:  As they exist in the marketplace, these devices lack aesthetic appeal to such a great extent that they degrade most settings. 

Honestly, if the visual issues were to be addressed, I would be among the first to get excited about diving boards and slides all over again:  They add spice to the experience — something that always has value.

Have you developed a solution to the visual challenges posed by diving boards and slides?  If so, please let me know in the space below — and feel free to send images to me at jm@watershapes.com.

I know that I promised to start a string of blogs on my likes and dislikes in watershape design, but the news from the Genesis 3 Design Group about Skip Phillips and Brian Van Bower parting ways with David Tisherman must jump to the head of the line.

I have watched these three gentlemen at work, separately and together, for more than 25 years.  Brian was kind enough to befriend me very early in my tenure as editor at Pool & Spa News — shortly after tearing into me during an NSPI board meeting for the way the magazine had reported on some obscure political doings in the region he represented at the time.

Skip and I similarly crossed paths through NSPI, where his rapid rise through the ranks to become the association’s president made him something of a media star.  To this day, I recall and admire the way he handled himself when Sally Jessie Raphael failed in her attempt to use him to score emotional points against pools at a time when child drownings were very much in the news.   

I met David in person only late in my career at P/SN — again through NSPI — but I had spoken with him on several occasions and was impressed by his work as well as by his earnest conviction that nobody else working in residential pools and spas was operating anywhere near his level.  Ever the artiste, he had a ponytail to go with a distinct swagger when I first met him.

At the same time the three of them were coming together to form Genesis 3 in 1998, Eric Herman and I were preparing WaterShapes for its launch in February 1999.  As I have told many people through the years, I called Vance Gillette in August or September 1998 to let him know what we were planning, and he immediately suggested calling David, Skip and Brian.  As I told him at the time, those were the three names on my initial contact list just below his — and the rest is history.

My reaction to the news that David is no longer part of Genesis 3 is one of disappointment rather than shock.  I have watched them struggle mightily to keep things balanced and moving forward for many years, and if there has been any surprise, it’s that they managed to hang in there as long as they did.  If nothing else, they should be applauded for having held it together through all those years.

I am sure that the press release Brian and Skip sent out was more diplomatic than it was forthcoming and that we’ll never know all the details of the breakup.  And I am sure, given the outsized personalities involved, that there will be a natural tendency among those close to the group to take sides as things settle out.  Truth be told, it might get dicey for a time.

Personally, I don’t want that to happen.  I would rather dwell instead on the achievements of Genesis 3, the tremendous benefits it has brought to watershaping and the countless alliances and friendships I have formed through years of association with David, Skip and Brian.       

They face a tough road, but I hope Skip and Brian can make things work without David and that David will find ways to continue his contributions to the industry’s growth and artistic development.  There may be awkward patches ahead, but I choose to raise a glass and say, “Here’s to new beginnings!”  

I’ve spent 50 of my years living in Southern California – an exhilarating half-century in which I’ve spent a lot of time, man and boy, in the presence of watershapes of various forms and sizes.  The experiences I’ve had have filled me with opinions about the nature of these bodies of water and their accoutrements, so get ready.

The house in which I grew up had a small reflecting pool in its compact front courtyard, complete with a spitting concrete frog that I still have in my possession.  (It wasn’t very functional by the time we moved in, and ultimately the shallow pool was broken up and replaced by a small formal garden.)

My next-door neighbor’s backyard featured a large concrete pond with a small waterfall and lots of fish that attracted all sorts of birds, frogs and insects I’d never see anywhere else.  Every once in a while, the pond would go haywire and become a mass of pea soup, but it never seemed to take my miracle-working neighbor much time or effort to set things back on course.

Two doors down, the family would set up an aboveground pool just before each Memorial Day weekend and host riotous children straight through Labor Day weekend, after which the water would be drained and the components stored until the next year.  A few blocks away, a school chum was in one of the few families that owned an inground pool, and I recall that his parents seemed to enjoy having visitors much more than my friend did.

Within walking distance was the local junior high school pool where my siblings and I all learned to swim.  It was a place frequented (for reasons unknown) by excellent springboard divers who’d have informal competitions to see who could make the largest splash, the highest bound or the smoothest entry, depending upon what the eager crowd was able to persuade them to do. 

To say watershapes have always been part of my life is something of an understatement:  They formed a key section of my childhood, and while the beach and the ocean waves ushered me through adolescence and into adulthood, the memories I have of youthful watershape-related delights have never left me and still influence the way I think about these wonderful installations.

Along the way, I’ve rounded out my personal experiences with a lot of book learning and extensive observations of a wider world.  That and more than 20 years of covering the watershaping industry as an editor and publisher have put me in a position to be fairly discriminating when it comes to likes and dislikes.  It’s not simply an abstract matter of aesthetics:  I’m just as interested in functionality and serviceability as I am in the way things look.  This combined perspective made WaterShapes and now WaterShapes EXTRA! and watershapes.com natural outlets for me.

To begin this New Year, I will use this space to examine a few objects of my affection – and several that get my hackles up.  Among the topics I’ll consider will be portable spas, diving boards, slides, tanning shelves, interior finishes and raised spas. I will also have a go with pond edges, rockwork and plantings, as well as bowl fountains, deck-level jets, fountain lighting and musical accompaniment.  Some subjects will merit full blog entries; in other cases, I’ll whip through a range of quibbles and/or kudos all at once. 

Watch this space:  I’ll dig in starting on January 25.

My aim with this series is to open a dialogue with designers and builders who regularly work with these items — so please share your thoughts in the space below. In this instance, I would appreciate learning what topics you’d like me to consider.    

I’ve always been a Christmas junkie.  I grew up with two brothers and three sisters (I was fifth in line), and with so many people involved, the activity level in our household started building with Thanksgiving and didn’t really calm down until sometime after January 1.

One of my fondest memories is of the first year in which I was allowed to help in tinseling the Christmas tree.  All of five years old, I was handed a small clutch of silvery strands to hang on the bottom-most branches.  I know now that I was given the assignment because nobody else liked the bending and contortions that were involved, but I felt so grown up and responsible that it didn’t matter one bit.

And the apprenticeship was short:  The next year I was given free rein to work where I chose, so my range the second time around reached up to about the four-foot mark on the ten-foot trees we always set up in the front window of our living room.

Nowadays, I am mostly alone in the Zen-like exercise of tinseling.  My brothers and sisters are scattered across the country with their own families — and with homes of their own to deck with holiday trimmings.  My own family is grown, our nest is empty, and my wife Judy has never had much patience for the one-strand-at-a-time approach I insist on to achieve just the right appearance of shimmering glory.

If that seems a bit bittersweet, it truly isn’t:  As I work my way slowly around the tree, I am constantly joined by memories of past holiday seasons — the giddy mornings, the joke gifts, the corn-pancake breakfasts that kept my father at the griddle for hours while a small army ate its fill.  I remember tinseling with my own children, too, and look forward to collecting more holiday memories when we’re all together through the long weekend that starts this coming Friday.

It is indeed a special time of the year, and whatever your religious beliefs, I hope you enjoy a sense of renewal from recognizing that the days are getting longer once again, the New Year is near and we all have much to accomplish in 2012 and beyond.

***

From all of us in the WaterShapes family, please accept our best wishes for a happy holiday season and a prosperous New Year!  We all should have big plans and high hopes for a bright future, one that will begin with a great 2012!

What do you see coming next year? Is some form of business recovery on its way, or are you thinking the difficult “new normal” is here to stay?  Please let me know what you think below.

There’s nothing like a good breeze to turn swimming pools and other watershapes into magnets for debris – especially if there are still plenty of leaves on the trees.

We had gusting winds of record strength here in Southern California the other day – enough, in fact, to make the national news.  When I walked out into my backyard the next day, the skimmer basket was full and the pool cleaner had taken to whimpering in the corner.  I started by restoring both to working order, then devoted some time to sweeping the surface with a net, figuring the skimmer and cleaner would need my help again in an hour or so anyway.

The experience made me think a bit about Andrew Pansini, the founder of Jandy Industries, who passed away recently and left as his legacy the first automatic pool sweep.  Where I’m always a little too ready to pick up a net and scoop up the mess by myself, he was impatient enough with the process to invent his way to a landmark solution.

Net in hand, I also thought about other innovations that have taken so much of the monotony out of maintaining pools – auto-fill devices, chemical feeders, automatic covers, pump actuators, valve controls, automation systems and all the rest of the components that make it possible for pool owners not to mind doing the occasional bit of manual labor to keep up with devil winds.

I know we’ve come a long way toward making pools, spas, ponds, fountains and other waterfeatures relatively maintenance-free.  Still, we have a way to go to include as “standard equipment” all the systems and devices designed to produce that happy outcome.   

Long ago, the car companies learned the value of making everything but the most deluxe features “standard.”  The good thing for car companies is that consumers simply absorb the extra cost; the great thing is that consumers are happier with their vehicles and keep coming back for more.

Would the same approach work for watershapes?  I can’t see why not.

What do you think?  Would consumers accept the concept (and cost) of a standard, no-exceptions package of features that will make their watershapes easier to manage?  Share your thoughts below!   

As you might imagine given our plans for AquaticSpacesNetwork (see my last blog entry, “Charting a New Course,” for details), I’ve been thinking a lot lately about reaching out to consumers.

Along the way, it has occurred to me that good information is almost always universally useful — that is, information that helps build the skills and awareness of professionals has much practical value to consumers as well.

A case in point is Scott Cohen’s new book, The Candid Contractor:  Lessons Learned from the Construction Defect Expert Witness Files of Scott Cohen.  The title’s certainly a mouthful, but those of you who’ve received our WaterShapes EXTRA! newsletter for any length of time saw this text emerge chapter by chapter.  Now it has been gathered together as a book (available through Amazon.com).  Browsing though its pages, it is clear that the content — a range of cautionary tales for watershapers — is just the sort of guidance and education consumers need to help them work with watershapers and allied professionals.

From the first meetings we held about WaterShapes back in 1998, the plain desire of most of the designers and builders we contacted was to raise the bar in watershaping — to create an environment in which excellence would be expected and achieved.  While I think the magazine succeeded in changing the conversation, and while I believe we helped elevate industry performance by several degrees, the missing link in the chain has always been a fully informed, fully aware consumer.

This is why I’m so excited about AquaticSpacesNetwork:  It opens up the WaterShapes archive to consumers, introduces them to what it takes to achieve excellence, and gives us the foundation of content we need not only to change the nature of the conversation, but also to raise the bar even further.

As I see it, what’s good for consumers is ultimately good for watershaping professionals who meet their needs and desires.  Is this an opinion you share?  Or do you have reservations about being so transparent with consumers?  Please let me know what you think by commenting below!

Almost from the day I decided to suspend publication of the printed version of WaterShapes, I had a vision of what was coming next.

Reaching all the way back to my earliest days with Pool & Spa News, I recall impassioned conversations about the pool industry’s perceived need to reach out to consumers.  Although studies were done, committees formed and advertising campaigns plotted and executed, there was never any sense that the pool industry had the resources or ability to move the needle to any significant degree.

Companies with the wherewithal reached out directly with advertising campaigns in those distant days – and continue to do so today.  But even now, I don’t think consumers understand they’re dealing with a multibillion-dollar industry rather than with networks of local builders, dealers and support services.

The time has come to change all that – and not just for the pool industry, but for every craft, product and service related to watershaping in all the forms we’ve defined it through the past 13 years.  It is time, in other words, to put consumers front and center by building a new Web site called AquaticSpacesNetwork. 

Think of it as WaterShapes on steroids.

Coming in 2012, this new site will be built on the foundation of all we accomplished in 13 years with WaterShapes:  the emphasis on quality, on the value of professional education, on the thoughtful and detailed telling of watershaping stories in words and images.  From the start, everything we did was consumer-friendly, and now we will reach out to millions of them with information and resources they can use to make the best decisions about their residential backyards, commercial properties and institutional campuses.

From my perspective, this is all so cool that I’m ready to burst.  I feel like a kid again, learning new ways to communicate, build audiences and fulfill the mission of clear communication I’ve always pursued – but on a scale that so far exceeds anything I’ve ever attempted, I never would have dreamed it possible.

Watch this blog and WaterShapes EXTRA! for news of our progress.  It’s all coming in 2012! 

And please share your own thoughts on this concept:  It’s being developed not just consumers, but also to help watershapers on all levels – so do let me know what you think as we move through our formative stages!

I’ve had a swimming pool and spa in my backyard since 1989. 

Through 22 years of ownership, I’ve spent a tremendous amount of time in the pool – especially back in the days when my three daughters were small and we all enjoyed being waterlogged when the weather was nice.  I’ve probably spent even more time in the spa, using the jets to ease my frequently aching back, neck and shoulders, and loving the isolation that comes from closing my eyes and letting the sound of exploding bubbles obliterate worldly cares.   

Even so (and particularly now that my wife and I are empty nesters), I’ve always spent much more time looking at my pool and spa than I have actually using either of them.  For all the glories of family togetherness and physical relief I’ve experienced, I must say I’ve taken at least as much pleasure in gazing out at the water through windows as I have being immersed in it.

I know some watershapers who explore this visual banquet with their clients, and I believe with all my heart that they’re on the right track.  Yes, it’s great to talk about direct access to recreation and recuperation; yes, it’s wonderful to mention being able to swim laps and relieve aches and pains with so much convenience; yes, it’s good to mention that there’s no substitute for playing with the kids or relaxing with your spouse. 

But in addition to all that, I think most watershapers could and should do a better job of helping their clients appreciate the emotional value of being around the water, not just being in it. Describing this overarching benefit and talking about the sounds moving water will make would boost the desirability of owning a pool, spa or other watershape to the next level.

This is one key reason WaterShapes pushed beyond pools and spas to embrace ponds, streams, fountains and all other forms of decorative water:  Human beings reap intrinsic benefits from the very presence of any form of water. Thus, we wanted to explore the ability of watershapes of all varieties and sizes to enhance human environments and the human experience.

Valuing water in this way adds profound depth to the process of working with clients.  Try it:  You’ll like the results.

Is this purely visual side of the watershape experience something you talk about with your clients?  How does the approach work for you?  Please share your comments!

Early in 2001, we at WaterShapes were looking for a way to break out of the pack and make a distinctive name for our then-new publication. And of course, we wanted to do it in a way that would attract maximum attention for boldness, brashness and sheer chutzpah.   

It didn’t take long for us to settle on WaterShapes TV as a concept, and with Eric Herman running point, we began to organize ourselves to prepare a pilot that would be so achingly beautiful and seductive, no broadcast executive (or consumer) could resist.

We were in production by April, gathering videos our contacts had on the shelf, blending in new material from a few local sources and crafting an overall narrative that linked everything together. By late summer, we were hanging out with our production people and putting on finishing touches to get the package down to the required 22 minutes.  We were excited beyond belief – and confident that we’d get our feet firmly in the door with one of the many content-hungry cable channels.

Timing is everything.  As we were preparing for our big moment, we missed the fact that cable television was rapidly changing from a focus on education and instruction to a absolute mania for entertainment and competitions.  And we weren’t helped by a wave of caution about anything new that spread in the aftermath of 9/11.

Be all that as it may, I recently pulled the tapes out of the files and herewith invite you to enjoy the fruits of our 2001 labors.  In the current edition of our newsletter, you’ll find the first of five segments of the pilot for WaterShapes TV – this one introducing the concept and setting the stage for segments to follow.  You’ll get the chance, as I often have done in the last ten years, of wondering what might have been.

We’ll release the other four segments, which feature work by David Tisherman, John Luebtow, Crystal Fountains and others, to coincide with our next four newsletters.  Watch for them!

Were we on the right track back in 2001?  Please do watch the video and let me know what you think!