We don’t live in a suburb—we live in a river town,” says singer/songwriter Dar Williams of her home in the Hudson Highlands. “It’s a connection to an element of nature that we can’t possibly master. It humbles us; it creates mildew and a certain amount of inherent seediness that comes with being a port on a trafficked waterway. The mountains are so much bigger than we are. I love that.”

Critics say Williams’ work is “pleasingly plainspoken” (Rolling Stone) and “intelligent songwriting with comforting melodies” (Relix). Stereo-Type magazine speculated that she might be “the best female singer/songwriter in America today.” Rather than let it go to her head, Williams seems determined to stay her laid-back self, appearing in locales that are fighting to save an independent bookstore or coffee shop, inviting fans to help with tour publicity in exchange for free tickets and a chance to hang out, and supporting small nonprofits via her Echoes Initiative.

Green consciousness for Williams and her family starts with the mundane little details and radiates onward to an entire way of relating to the world.

“Touring inherently uses a lot of energy,” she observes. “You’re taking planes, staying in motels—I try to offset the inevitable footprint. They used to just automatically give me three plastic bottles of water: one backstage, one on stage, and one afterwards while I’m signing autographs. I’ve stopped that. I use my metal bottle now. It actually keeps better and tastes better. And I talk it up. I’m selling Dar Williams metal water bottles.”

But she doesn’t stop there. “My car gets 45 miles per gallon. I turn off the lights when I leave a room. I tell the housekeeping staff not to bother cleaning my room and that I won’t tell the supervisor, so they’ll still get paid. Staying in motels, I’m concerned that they not bleach me a set of sheets every night. I try not to feel too much like Marie Antoinette, but then, if you’re going to use energy right now, maybe it’s OK to use it for art—the kind that gets people talking. Poetry is really important in terms of the human ecology. It helps minimize the degenerative, fear-based spinning of the wheels in our minds.”

While Williams tries her best to live green on the road, it’s a little easier to live the lifestyle at home—being that she’s married to a green builder. Just one example is the array of solar panels added to her home in a historic neighborhood.

Williams and her husband, green builder Michael Robinson, knew that adding on to their 1886 home would require negotiations. “We won the first battle with the Architectural Review Board about changing the footprint pretty easily,” says Robinson. “We had an architect friend who charmed their socks off. Then we wanted to add solar. We thought, ‘Who’d object to a solar panel?’ Whoa! It caused quite a stir.”

Robinson and Williams sought the advice of a friend who’d won a similar struggle in Kingston’s Rondout district. He recommended they photograph other anomalies within the historic district—cable boxes and cutouts made in clapboard to allow for air conditioning.

“There was a precedent set by a couple in Scarsdale. They argued that it’s a utility, which it is,” says Williams. “Also, pollution has a negative impact on the history they’re trying to preserve.”

The house is historic and cozy besides. Paperstone counters and a large center island dominate a homey kitchen. A masonry heater with a Finnish fireplace serves as a “giant radiator and a Colonial crock pot—we’ve made pizza, scones, and cookies in the bake oven part.” Original works by fellow Hudson Valley artists grace the walls.

“This project went so beautifully,” says Steve Marchetti, the above mentioned diplomatic architect, “that it felt as though Michael and I were just skipping along down the path to completion. He used me the way a client should—let me guide the aesthetics—and meanwhile he was the green guru, taught me a lot of green things I’d never seen before and will be using from now on.”

Robinson stresses taking the time to use common sense, not just trendy tactics. “You can use a million dollars worth of super spray foam insulation, and if it’s not done right, it’s wasted. We did a blower door test—before the sheetrock goes up, you shut all the doors and windows, and a giant fan sucks air through the house. Then you go around and fill the spots where the air comes through. Every insulator should do that.”

Williams chuckles. “We have an inch of rigid insulation. Michael walked around for days talking about people who do three inches,” she says. “That’s my man—if you want to live well, marry a builder.”

Everything but the kitchen sink is rainwater-fed, from massive collectors buried in the backyard. Radiant floor heating, solar hot water, Icynene insulation, and low-volatile organic compound (VOC) finishes are all components of a lifestyle he describes as “a little obsessive” and she, “kind of Armageddonist. But there are gradations and trade-offs to everything.

“I make decisions every day that don’t fit some rigid definition of deep green. Probably my least green decision was to have a child,” she says. “And we’re adopting our second. Children inevitably bring a certain amount of plastic objects and rushed decisions, but I certainly wouldn’t change that choice for the world.”

A super-deep tub and dual-flush toilet grace a bathroom with a spectacular view. Son Steven’s cozy room has a loft, where his bed will be when he’s a tad bigger. Each bedroom is its own heating and cooling zone. A Lifebreath air exchanger system and the equipment used to process the vegetable oil that powers Robinson’s truck are in the basement.

Landscape architect Mary Rice helped design and plant a mix of flowers and foodstuffs. “She was more radical than we were,” says Williams. “And I wanted some edibles. I remember visiting Jackson Browne’s manager 10 years ago, and his lawn was all arugula. That’s maybe extreme. Still…”

“You know what’s amazing?” interjects Robinson. “Everybody in this town now has chickens.”

“Yeah,” says Williams, “everybody’s getting chickens and bees. I see other harbingers of positive change—there’s a lot of preventive and holistic medicine coming in, and there are four places that have hootenannies and open mike jams. Just small local venues where it’s gone from two people having coffee to 10 people getting together. We humans need more time to sit and stew. If we’re ever going to get the great stuff going, like farm-to-school programs, it’ll come from people getting together, each bringing their ingredients—human stone soup.”

For more information about Dar Williams, visit her website darwilliams.com.

Resource List

• Peix and Marchetti Architects LLP
  peixandmarchetti.com
• Icynene spray foam insulation
  icynene.com
• Bench Dogs Inc. furniture, cabinetry,and design
  benchdogsinc.com
• Mary Rice, landscape architect
  badey-watson.com/personnel_mcr.php
• Viessmann heating solutions and solar energy systems boiler
  viessmann.ca
• Renovators Supply dual flush toilets
  rensup.com
• Paperstone counters
  paperstoneproducts.com
• Bob Macedo Energy Savers energy audits
  energysaversny.com
• Green Courage environmentally responsible materials and supplies
  greencourage.com
• Susan Jablon Mosaics recycled glass tiles
  susanjablonmosaics.com