Modern architecture can be a break with the past, an opportunity to shed some of the cultural baggage of traditional styles. When my parents, Sylvia Balderrama and John Morley, were rebuilding their decaying family Adirondack cabin, going modern meant breaking free of both local clichés and some of the strictures of my somewhat severe ancestors. My great-grandfather, a semi-itinerant Methodist minister, originally followed a church leader to summer in a rural area by Lake Champlain, where a group of fellow ministers camped in small cabins that were less like shore resorts and more like monastic retreats—no indoor bathrooms, hot water, or any other decadent amenities. Even interior doors were frowned upon because of what naughty hijinks could happen behind them. (Playing cards was forbidden, to say nothing of more mature activities.)
