Why Were Galley Kitchens So Popular?

Historic galley kitchen, via The Victoria & Albert Museum

It's been almost a decade since we moved into our mid-century home in a historic neighborhood of New York City. Before we moved in, I had the floors refinished, walls skim-coated and painted, light fixtures updated, and the bathroom gut-renovated. But I didn't renovate the kitchen. I was grappling with a decision whether to leave the galley-kitchen footprint intact or to bring down some of the walls for an open concept kitchen and I wanted to live with it for a while.

Our kitchen in the real estate listings

The kitchen had been remodeled sometime in the 2000s, with builder-beige cabinets and a seriously ugly granite. I knew that I would eventually renovate it, but would I change the footprint? I was strongly inclined to keep the galley footprint, mainly in recognition of the work of our building's architect Philip Birnbaum, who designed it in 1946. Beloved by developers for his cost-effective use of space and by homeowners for gracious floor plans that placed an emphasis on windows and natural light, Birnbaum was an architect more renown for his interiors than exteriors, though he's credited with some 300 buildings in New York. I particularly enjoy the subtle drama of our coved ceilings, coffered ceilings surrounding doorways, and raised dining platform. He also did a lot of sunken living rooms. Very "Mad Men."

Who was I to mess with Birnbaum's design?

So, I gave ours a quick paint refresh, adding upper cabinets for more storage, before moving in. Then settled in to live with it for a while.

Galley kitchens were not unique to Birnbaum; they are very common in our neighborhood—in fact, in all regions of the country, especially in homes of that era. To understand just how the galley kitchen became so popular, I did some research and it was a real step back in time.

An early proponent of the galley kitchen, Ladies Home Journal columnist Christine Frederick was an American home economist and author of the 1913 book "New Housekeeping: Efficiency Studies in Home Management." Her work was highly influenced by the time-motion studies of her day that were popularized by Frederick Winslow Taylor — probably best known to us modern folks as the stopwatch-carrying dad in the story "Cheaper by the Dozen." 

Christine Frederick was the first to apply machine-era, assembly-line efficiency and workflow theories to kitchen design. We have her to thank for the "kitchen triangle" workspace theory, for example.

Frederick's book, translated into German, caught the eye of Austrian architect Margarete Schütte-Lihotzky, who was also a student of Taylorism efficiency. Schütte-Lihotzky worked for the German architect Ernst May, whose firm was tasked with solving an enormous post-WWI housing crisis in the city of Frankfurt. Their challenge: To build some 10,000 livable units of public housing in a city where land and money were in short supply. Schütte-Lihotzky got right down to work, applying efficient workflow principles to the floor plans. Her 1926 "Frankfurt Kitchen" was a compact galley design, inspired by restaurant cars she'd seen on trains. 

The Frankfurt Kitchen was a model of efficiency, hygiene, and workflow. But it was also stylish and available in four modern colors: blue, gray, white, and green. 

The design withstands the test of time. You can easily imagine a Frankfurt Kitchen plopped down in a current-day Jackson Heights home, and it wouldn't even seem all that dated.

via The Victoria & Albert Museum

It's not so far removed from some of the beautifully renovated galley kitchens that I've been admiring in my neighborhood, like this recently remodeled galley commissioned by a chef, which was featured on Sweeten.

via Sweeten

Or this one that was shared in neighborhood a forum.

via Jackson Heights Life

With so many lovely examples, where homeowners were able to keep the original footprint, why would I mess with what's unmistakably a model of efficiency? 

Because, as it turned out, it was not all that functional for the way Mr. Renov8or and I live.

Not to say it didn't have detractors in its heyday.

"Schütte-Lihotzky had designed the kitchen for one adult person only. Children or even a second adult had not entered the picture, and in fact, the kitchen was too small for two people to work in. Even one person often was hampered by open cabinet doors." (Wikipedia)

The biggest complaint I had about my galley kitchen is that it was a one-cook kitchen. Not only could two people not cook dinner side by side comfortably, but even someone coming in to grab a drink from the refrigerator disrupted the flow. In addition, I found the narrow aisle — which must have been strained even by the scarce few appliances of 1940s housewives — too close to fit today's appliances comfortably. When our dishwasher door was open, it blocked the refrigerator. When the oven door was open, I had to stand to the side to remove trays — all well and good when baking a tray of cookies, but treacherous when pulling out a piping hot 20-pound turkey.

It seems ironic today that early female pioneers Fredericks and Schütte-Lihotzky elevated the role of housewife to one worthy of scientific methods and modern design yet at the same time isolated her in a walled-off kitchen, far away from social interaction. But that's not how women in 1926 would have viewed their designs. The high-efficiency kitchen was coveted. Here is a video (in German, but you'll get the gist) of the way housewives toiled, compared to the style and ease of the new Frankfurt kitchen.

While Schütte-Lihotzky herself admitted to not even knowing how to cook, she recognized how challenging domestic drudgery could be, especially for women on a low income, and set out to make housework as easy as possible. Applying Taylor principles, Schütte-Lihotzky studied common household tasks, timing them with a stopwatch, and reduced unnecessary steps. 

Moira Zoitl

Many of her design elements, including pull-out bins for flour, sugar, and spices; drop-down ironing board; movable ceiling light; angled dish drainer; and pass-through garbage cabinet (the bin could be removed from a door located on the other side of the kitchen wall, in the hallway) were delightfully innovative for her time and would have been much appreciated by her "audience" — the new generation of modern working women who had to balance housekeeping with a job outside the home. 

No one at the time would have even questioned the inherent gender bias in the division of labor.

According to the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, where most of these historical photos originate, Schütte-Lihotzky separated her galley kitchen by design, to isolate cooking noises and smells. Large eat-in kitchens with their coal-fueled cookers, randomly placed tables and hoosier cabinets, and improvised slop sinks were viewed as unhygienic at the time. The Frankfurt kitchen aspired to treat the kitchen like a factory line or laboratory, designed for cooking, washing, food storage, and ironing — even in the tiniest of apartments.

The popularity of the Frankfurt Kitchen was influential and far reaching, and galley style kitchens continued to be a common style of kitchen well into the 1940s and '50s. But another style was emerging mid-century, and that was... you guessed it — the open concept.

via Old House Online

Opening up walls brings in a ton of light — and who doesn't love countertop seating? 

Would opening the walls solve my kitchen problems? The aisle would still be narrow. Thanks to the raised platform of both the kitchen and dining area, which couldn't come down, I couldn't add precious inches to the corridor. But I could annex the dining area for the kitchen, and allocate an eating area someplace else.

I noodled around in Sketchup for several years, reimagining what my kitchen might look like if I opened the galley walls, and I liked what I saw.

Not only would two cooks be able to work side by side, but I'd have room to locate a wall oven in a spot where it could be opened up, making baking easier, safer, and more efficient. I could also locate the refrigerator in a place where anyone could grab a cold drink and not disrupt the flow of cooking or clean-up.

I saved photos of homes in our neighborhood, where former galley kitchens like ours had been reconfigured to open concept.

via Berkshire Green

These photos gave me a wealth of ideas. And in the end, I went for the open concept.

After living with the galley kitchen for five years, I pulled the trigger on our kitchen renovation — opening up the walls.

 I have to say that I don't miss the galley kitchen one bit.

Historic galley kitchen, via The Victoria & Albert Museum

It's been almost a decade since we moved into our mid-century home in a historic neighborhood of New York City. Before we moved in, I had the floors refinished, walls skim-coated and painted, light fixtures updated, and the bathroom gut-renovated. But I didn't renovate the kitchen. I was grappling with a decision whether to leave the galley-kitchen footprint intact or to bring down some of the walls for an open concept kitchen and I wanted to live with it for a while.

Our kitchen in the real estate listings

The kitchen had been remodeled sometime in the 2000s, with builder-beige cabinets and a seriously ugly granite. I knew that I would eventually renovate it, but would I change the footprint? I was strongly inclined to keep the galley footprint, mainly in recognition of the work of our building's architect Philip Birnbaum, who designed it in 1946. Beloved by developers for his cost-effective use of space and by homeowners for gracious floor plans that placed an emphasis on windows and natural light, Birnbaum was an architect more renown for his interiors than exteriors, though he's credited with some 300 buildings in New York. I particularly enjoy the subtle drama of our coved ceilings, coffered ceilings surrounding doorways, and raised dining platform. He also did a lot of sunken living rooms. Very "Mad Men."

Who was I to mess with Birnbaum's design?

So, I gave ours a quick paint refresh, adding upper cabinets for more storage, before moving in. Then settled in to live with it for a while.

Galley kitchens were not unique to Birnbaum; they are very common in our neighborhood—in fact, in all regions of the country, especially in homes of that era. To understand just how the galley kitchen became so popular, I did some research and it was a real step back in time.

An early proponent of the galley kitchen, Ladies Home Journal columnist Christine Frederick was an American home economist and author of the 1913 book "New Housekeeping: Efficiency Studies in Home Management." Her work was highly influenced by the time-motion studies of her day that were popularized by Frederick Winslow Taylor — probably best known to us modern folks as the stopwatch-carrying dad in the story "Cheaper by the Dozen." 

Christine Frederick was the first to apply machine-era, assembly-line efficiency and workflow theories to kitchen design. We have her to thank for the "kitchen triangle" workspace theory, for example.

Frederick's book, translated into German, caught the eye of Austrian architect Margarete Schütte-Lihotzky, who was also a student of Taylorism efficiency. Schütte-Lihotzky worked for the German architect Ernst May, whose firm was tasked with solving an enormous post-WWI housing crisis in the city of Frankfurt. Their challenge: To build some 10,000 livable units of public housing in a city where land and money were in short supply. Schütte-Lihotzky got right down to work, applying efficient workflow principles to the floor plans. Her 1926 "Frankfurt Kitchen" was a compact galley design, inspired by restaurant cars she'd seen on trains. 

The Frankfurt Kitchen was a model of efficiency, hygiene, and workflow. But it was also stylish and available in four modern colors: blue, gray, white, and green. 

The design withstands the test of time. You can easily imagine a Frankfurt Kitchen plopped down in a current-day Jackson Heights home, and it wouldn't even seem all that dated.

via The Victoria & Albert Museum

It's not so far removed from some of the beautifully renovated galley kitchens that I've been admiring in my neighborhood, like this recently remodeled galley commissioned by a chef, which was featured on Sweeten.

via Sweeten

Or this one that was shared in neighborhood a forum.

via Jackson Heights Life

With so many lovely examples, where homeowners were able to keep the original footprint, why would I mess with what's unmistakably a model of efficiency? 

Because, as it turned out, it was not all that functional for the way Mr. Renov8or and I live.

Not to say it didn't have detractors in its heyday.

"Schütte-Lihotzky had designed the kitchen for one adult person only. Children or even a second adult had not entered the picture, and in fact, the kitchen was too small for two people to work in. Even one person often was hampered by open cabinet doors." (Wikipedia)

The biggest complaint I had about my galley kitchen is that it was a one-cook kitchen. Not only could two people not cook dinner side by side comfortably, but even someone coming in to grab a drink from the refrigerator disrupted the flow. In addition, I found the narrow aisle — which must have been strained even by the scarce few appliances of 1940s housewives — too close to fit today's appliances comfortably. When our dishwasher door was open, it blocked the refrigerator. When the oven door was open, I had to stand to the side to remove trays — all well and good when baking a tray of cookies, but treacherous when pulling out a piping hot 20-pound turkey.

It seems ironic today that early female pioneers Fredericks and Schütte-Lihotzky elevated the role of housewife to one worthy of scientific methods and modern design yet at the same time isolated her in a walled-off kitchen, far away from social interaction. But that's not how women in 1926 would have viewed their designs. The high-efficiency kitchen was coveted. Here is a video (in German, but you'll get the gist) of the way housewives toiled, compared to the style and ease of the new Frankfurt kitchen.

While Schütte-Lihotzky herself admitted to not even knowing how to cook, she recognized how challenging domestic drudgery could be, especially for women on a low income, and set out to make housework as easy as possible. Applying Taylor principles, Schütte-Lihotzky studied common household tasks, timing them with a stopwatch, and reduced unnecessary steps. 

Moira Zoitl

Many of her design elements, including pull-out bins for flour, sugar, and spices; drop-down ironing board; movable ceiling light; angled dish drainer; and pass-through garbage cabinet (the bin could be removed from a door located on the other side of the kitchen wall, in the hallway) were delightfully innovative for her time and would have been much appreciated by her "audience" — the new generation of modern working women who had to balance housekeeping with a job outside the home. 

No one at the time would have even questioned the inherent gender bias in the division of labor.

According to the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, where most of these historical photos originate, Schütte-Lihotzky separated her galley kitchen by design, to isolate cooking noises and smells. Large eat-in kitchens with their coal-fueled cookers, randomly placed tables and hoosier cabinets, and improvised slop sinks were viewed as unhygienic at the time. The Frankfurt kitchen aspired to treat the kitchen like a factory line or laboratory, designed for cooking, washing, food storage, and ironing — even in the tiniest of apartments.

The popularity of the Frankfurt Kitchen was influential and far reaching, and galley style kitchens continued to be a common style of kitchen well into the 1940s and '50s. But another style was emerging mid-century, and that was... you guessed it — the open concept.

via Old House Online

Opening up walls brings in a ton of light — and who doesn't love countertop seating? 

Would opening the walls solve my kitchen problems? The aisle would still be narrow. Thanks to the raised platform of both the kitchen and dining area, which couldn't come down, I couldn't add precious inches to the corridor. But I could annex the dining area for the kitchen, and allocate an eating area someplace else.

I noodled around in Sketchup for several years, reimagining what my kitchen might look like if I opened the galley walls, and I liked what I saw.

Not only would two cooks be able to work side by side, but I'd have room to locate a wall oven in a spot where it could be opened up, making baking easier, safer, and more efficient. I could also locate the refrigerator in a place where anyone could grab a cold drink and not disrupt the flow of cooking or clean-up.

I saved photos of homes in our neighborhood, where former galley kitchens like ours had been reconfigured to open concept.

via Berkshire Green

These photos gave me a wealth of ideas. And in the end, I went for the open concept.

After living with the galley kitchen for five years, I pulled the trigger on our kitchen renovation — opening up the walls.

 I have to say that I don't miss the galley kitchen one bit.