| Cover Story | Northwest Gardens | First Person | Now & Then |
WRITTEN BY VICTORIA MEDGYESI PHOTOGRAPHED BY BENJAMIN BENSCHNEIDER
SLEEK AND SOCIAL
As is true of that enduring icon-of-the-highway, the Seattle flat shared by Anne Traver and Henry Aronson is a classic study in design contradiction: compact though spacious, elite yet populist, eclectic but unified. What it's not is pretentious (even if it does have a collection of art that would make a museum curator go weak in the knees), high maintenance (in a pinch, you could practically hose down the cork floor), or cramped (once, 120 people came to visit and there was still room to move). At its most measurable, the 1,500 square feet of mostly open space is fronted by 53 feet of south-facing, floor-to-ceiling window, and another 24 feet that looks to the east. Off the main living/cooking/eating/working/entertainment area, there's a step-out balcony, one bedroom, two full baths and a closet-size office with a tucked-away guest berth. Originally, the flat was designed for one: Aronson, an attorney (and former commissioner for the Port of Seattle) who works as a consultant on large public projects. Currently, he's a pro-bono consultant and spokesperson for Citizens Against the Monorail. Almost two years ago, Aronson purchased all the available penthouse space in the downtown highrise: 1,000 square feet of it. Without hesitation, he asked longtime friend and Seattle architect Jeremy Miller to help him create a functional floorplan that would play to the view. It was to be Aronson and Miller's third residential collaboration.
But fate intervened. Just as work was about to start, an additional 500 square feet of adjacent space went up for sale. Suddenly, the possibilities for creating a more gracious environment expanded.
Good thing, too. Shortly after moving into the completed flat, Aronson invited Anne Traver, the principal-in-charge of creative direction at the Seattle branding-identity firm Methodologie, to share. In more ways than one, it was a personal merger that added immeasurably to the overall spirit and aesthetic of the home. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on one's point of view), Traver didn't have to deal with a process that included gutting both spaces to the studs. Sheetrocked walls, the ceiling, several bathrooms, two kitchens and flooring materials as well as all the original condominium finishes and fixtures went.
When the hammers stopped swinging, all that remained was a lean stretch of pristine canvas.
By comparison, creating the design aesthetic was easy. Deciding to work with the flat's linear proportion rather than against it was a defining factor. So was the commitment to have each "life activity area" flow into the next without a formal break. "I've seen more dinner parties ruined when guests get up from the dining room and walk into a separate living room," says Aronson. "Conversation goes." Just as important was the decision to back up the kitchen/office area with a central wall. The wall made it possible to create a private bedroom, and does double duty as a "container" for the mechanical components. Overall, the space allocated to each area was roughly proportional to the time generally spent at any given activity. "It made all the sense in the world for the spaces to be integrated," Aronson says. "We live, eat and entertain in a connected way. Besides, the kitchen is always the centerpiece. It's where people congregate."
Traver, who says she was already making a mental move from her Montlake home to downtown living when Aronson suggested they share, was on hand to offer her design opinion on the layout, materials selection, final finishes and furniture. In that both Traver and Aronson have a strongly defined personal relationship to art and design, things have worked out remarkably well. "It was an amazing confluence of taste," Traver admits.
What has increased is the amount of in-house socializing. "Henry is insatiably social," she says with a laugh. "He loves to have people over." It was the sort of outcome the architect had in mind. "As cool as the space is, I think of it as simply a background," Miller says. "The drama is in the view, the city lights, the art, the people. We didn't want to design something that jumped out and said, 'Look at me.' "
Without a doubt, the view (a panorama that spans Lake Union, the Cascade Mountains, a good portion of the cityscape, Elliott Bay and the Olympic Mountains) is a dramatic force all its own. Given Aronson's early preference for a west-facing view, it was one that almost never happened. Still, Aronson is glad it did. "I never get tired of the lights and activity of the city," he says. "It's vibrant and always changing. At night, the water just goes dark."
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Cover Story | Northwest Gardens | First Person | Now & Then |