Pins on a Map: Hollin Hills, Virginia

Cast adrift amid the boring colonial subdivisions of Northern Virginia, an enclave of hippie modernism uncomfortably straddles the Red State-Blue State divide. Conceptualized by a community-minded developer and designed by a student of Frank Lloyd Wright’s, Hollin Hills is immediately recognizable as “that neighborhood,” or “the one with all the funny looking houses.” Although the community’s original voter registration rolls reveal eight times as many Democrats as Republicans, the neighborhood’s character is an odd mix of conservative and liberal tendencies.

Hollin Hills is a modernist development best known for its houses’ sparse, angular designs, massive windows, and lush yards. Founded in 1949 as a community-oriented alternative to the rash of cookie-cutter developments springing up around D.C., the neighborhood has managed to retain its unique aesthetic for over half a century. “Still contemporary after all these years” is favorite saying of long-time residents.

In many respects, Hollin Hills represents the best of upscale liberalism. The neighborhood’s open and friendly character has always encouraged a great deal of community participation. The Civic Association is active to the point of nosiness: we maintain our own parkland at the expense of residents’ time and money, and group projects like the House and Garden Tour and the annual pool clean-up always benefit from a surfeit of goodwill and volunteers. Taken as a neighborhood, Hollin Hills is the living embodiment of a tolerant, liberal community that hasn’t yet lost itself to suburban alienation.

Republicans still smarting from a McCain defeat will undoubtedly find a lot to dislike about Hollin Hills. The number of hybrids has grown exponentially in recent years, but whatever carbon emissions they conserve are promptly offset by the hulking Beemers and Mercedes parked next door. We keep compost piles and plant gardens, but our luxuriant windows send air conditioning bills through the roof. Having heard my mother’s book club discuss politics, I can also attest to the fact that certain community organizations are about as ideologically diverse as Maoist cadres. If the Elitist Liberal Snob is thought of as an exclusively urban species, the continued existence of Hollin Hills suggests otherwise.

But despite all the Priuses and the parkland, certain neighborhood traits are best described as idiosyncratically conservative. It may sound slightly absurd to accuse a modernist community of staunch traditionalism, but Hollin Hills’ Design Review Board is absolutely draconian when it comes to approving homeowners’ additions. Building a fence or garage is rarely allowed, and removing too many of our ancient trees is sure to provoke the neighbors’ ire. Every new deck, porch, or shed has to be approved as an organic outgrowth of the neighborhood’s founding aesthetic.

A few conventionally conservative habits are also on display. Our Fourth of July celebration is always a raucous, patriotic affair. Firearms are few and far between, but we like our big backyards and our privacy as much as any McMansion dweller. At the height of the presidential election, my mother was horrified to discover a few McCain/Palin signs down the road. The community’s stubborn refusal to add sidewalks also hints at a hidden libertarian streak.

Having braved the endless expanse of Northern Virginia’s barren exurbs, I realize how lucky I am to have grown up in a neighborhood that wasn’t strip-mined into existence. Our community was built to blend into the landscape, not to dominate it, and it’s a welcome change of pace from suburban malls and massive colonial fortresses. A skeptic might reply that trees are all well and good, but that sort of thing takes money, and people just aren’t interested in “blending in.” Given the choice, I’ll take shade and shrubbery over soil erosion and saplings, but it should also be noted that Hollin Hills began as a low-cost alternative for middle-class families.

Under the Design Review Board’s watchful eye, I doubt any newcomers will threaten the neighborhood’s architectural heritage. And despite the offending McCain-Palin paraphernalia, I’m equally confident that Hollin Hills went overwhelmingly Democratic on November 4. Disgruntled conservatives may deride us as liberal carpet-baggers, but the neighborhood was navy blue long before Obama captivated the D.C. suburbs. If anything, Hollin Hills’ continued success hints at a few deeper conservative truths: the importance of community, the value of preserving a certain shared aesthetic, and the existence of a profound, almost spiritual attachment to our land.

Will Collins lives in fake Virginia. He blogs occasionally at Dispatches.