Arch-Anatomy – Wood Bricks

Posted on December 16, 2025 by rdwilkins

This is the first of a series of articles on the anatomy of architecture which focuses on construction details. Many of them are details that are now obsolete because of modern building methods or the evolution of designs due to changing tastes.

(An expanded explanation of an obscure but interesting entry in the Wrand Film Design Glossary.)

If you try to search for ‘wood bricks’ on the internet, you’ll probably come up with some strange answers. They were a standard feature of brick construction in the nineteeth century that went out of fashion for a number of reasons.

With masonry building construction there has always been the problem of attaching wood elements to stone or brick structures. This was often accomplished by inserting wood plugs into the wall surfaces as an attachment point for nails, or by driving nails into the mortar of joints.

A wood plug in a stone wall of a 17th century Paris hotel.

From a 19th century builders manual showing the use of wood plugs for attaching a door frame.

Wooden plugs in early 20th century brick.

The use of ‘wood bricks’ most likely evolved in England before spreading to America. Most building manuals of the period that mention their use suggest using well-seasoned hardwood billets set between the brick courses at intervals for a way of attaching the wood linings for doorways and window framing.

For narrower wall opening, this lining could consist of a single board like in the illustration below.

Use of a single plank as a door frame lining for a brick wall. Note that the wood bricks are also used to attach the grounds at the door frame for plasterwork. The architrave exhibits typical Neo-colonial profiles, while the bolection mould on the doors frame is a mould typical of Greek Revival houses, a quirked Greek ogee and bevel combined with a fillet and cove, topped with an astragal, fillet, and cove.

For larger openings in thicker walls, the wood bricks were made longer and the linings were made of several pieces of sawn and planed boards, assembled in what was called a skeleton framed jamb.

The skeleton frame is attached to the wood bricks as well as the wood lintel.

Early manuals show this framework to be mortised and tenoned similar to a frame for furniture, but some mid-ninteeth century examples in America have been observed to be simple vertical boards nailed to the wood bricks rather than a M&T frame. This method would have definitely cut down on the construction time.

The image on the left shows the wood bricks in place while the image on the right shows the vertical boards nailed to them to act as the arch frame lining. Notice the archway lining at the top with boards that have been kerfed at regular intervals to allow the wood to form to the brick archway without having to steam bend them.

Some turn-of-the-century buildings display a more haphazard approach to wood bricks where framing cut offs of softwood were used instead of hardwood, as in the photos below.

Softwood framing cut-offs used in place of hardwood.

From an early 20th century building in Southern California. Wood bricks are set at 4′ from the floor. Most likely for a wanescot and chair rail.

Long strips of wood inserted in the brick for attaching a paneled wall detail in a 1870’s rural school house.

Two more examples of what appears to be framing lumber used as wood bricks.

Pieces of what seems to be lath for plaster inserted into the mortar joints between bricks as an attachment point.

An unusual sight I found on a building in the Mid-west. The exterior brick wall has eroded to the point that the wood bricks of a door frame have been exposed to the outside.

Sometimes Unwanted Holes Aren’t So Bad

Posted on November 25, 2025 by rdwilkins

You’ve probably never thought about how sound can affect your stage set. Beyond trying to not create an environment that would drive the sound recordist mad, you usually don’t think about odd acoustic anomalies that might pop up that you never intended to happen. Like echoes.

Computer Hall set – Gattaca – Columbia Pictures 1997

Yeah, echoes will bite you in the ass if you’re not careful.

On the main set for the 1997 film Gattaca, just such an anomaly occurred, and it was the cinematographer who ended up saving the day.

And what does the cinematographer have to do with sound problems? Keep reading.

The Computer Hall set was designed by Production Designer Jan Roelfs and was inspired by the real-life location that he and Director Andrew Niccol chose for the film. The actual building chosen for the exterior of the Gattaca Aerospace Corporation was the Marin County Civic Center in California, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. The art department flew to Marin and surveyed the interior details so that they could be matched for the set on stage, which was in a warehouse in Playa Vista.

The building they had leased made for an odd sound stage, but its size made it large enough to build the sets for the film in. There were the normal problems you deal with in a structure that was never designed to be a sound stage: support posts at regular intervals, a ceiling that is not nearly as high as those in an actual sound stage. On the plan below, you can see where the oval columns were designed to hide two of the building’s I-beam columns.

These are my drawings of the plan and elevations of the set with the areas of the sound problems circled.

(One note: on the title block, you’ll notice it reads “Eighth Day”. This was the original title of the film. In pre-production, the producers learned that there was a French movie of the same name that was going to be released, and a name change was required. The writer and director Andrew Niccol decided that he would create a new title using the four letters used to identify the nucleobases of DNA: GATC.)

Turns out, theater designers had known about the sound reflective effects of elliptical and parabolic ceilings for years, as most of the western world designed theaters in the mode of the typical Italian horseshoe layout plan.

A presentation at the 2017 International Congress On Sound was focused on this phenomenon.

In New York City’s Grand Central Station, there is a ‘whispering gallery’ or acoustic vortex. This is an architectural phenomenon created by a number of configurations, in this case, a vaulted ceiling in the subway entrance under the terminal. A person standing in one corner of the hall intersection can whisper into the corner and the sound travels over the curved surface of the ceiling and can be heard by a person standing in the opposite corner.

I discovered the echo one day when I was walking the set and stopped at the point in question. I saw a gnat and clapped my hands together to kill it. That’s when I heard the strange echo. Horrified, I clapped again and there was the same echo. I clapped a third time, just as Jan was walking through the set. He stopped and frowned. “Don’t do that!’, he said.

I think what was happening was that the area beneath the lower section of the ceiling of the set created a flutter echo, which was enhanced by the smooth ceiling surface. The two large skylights didn’t seem to affect this echo.

There was no carpeting or fabric to dampen the sound which would have eliminated this effect.

The solution came for the most part when the cinematographer, Slawomir Idziak, told us that he needed more practical lights in the set. This required creating dozens of new openings in the lower sections of the ceiling. These holes interrupted the acoustic waves and the echo disappeared. With the addition of the desks and the background actors, the sound reflection was minimal.

The photo below shows the original skylights in yellow, with the new lights circled in green.

The Art Of Technical Drawings

Posted on March 29, 2025 by rdwilkins

The look of construction drawings for film and television has changed a lot over the years, particularly now that most drawings are done digitally with computers rather than by hand.

While many current drawing styles now incorporate photo-textures, shadows, and icons to add life to drawings beyond what is typical of architectural drawings, it’s hard for them to match the aesthetics of hand drawings.

CAD drawing from 3D model – photo textures applied

Having started as a pencil draftsman I guess I do have a bit of a personal bias, but the unique style of each person on a hand-drafted drawing was immediately recognizable to people who knew their work.

Before digital illustrations and renders of 3D models, hand-drafted drawings had to serve as a design sales tool as well as instructions for scenery construction.

Here are some shots of a set design by Erich Kettlehut in 1923 for the UFA film, Die Nibelungen, for the scene where Siegfried kills the dragon.

The drawing was displayed as part of an exhibition of artwork from the UFA silent film period of the 1920s and 30s at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art in 2014. The drawing is from the collection of La Cinématiquè Française in Paris, France.

Note that the drawing not only provides a pictorial description of what the dragon should look like, but calls out dimensions, construction materials, how the action prop is to be operated, surrounding scenery requirements, and specific technical details of mechanical movements.