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WRITTEN BY LAWRENCE KREISMAN PHOTOGRAPHED BY STEVE RINGMAN |
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An aging model home finds new life through clean, honest design WHEN VICTOR and Liz Melfi moved from suburban Connecticut to the Seattle area eight years ago, they had to adjust to a lot of things not the least of which was the idea that charming, centuries-old villages with equally old Colonial housing would greet them at every turn. They also had to curb their expectation of finding a house similar to the 180-year-old home they had left. Most real estate on the Eastside didn't fit their aesthetics or their idea of "home." In an area where older, smaller houses were being bulldozed for new, larger ones, few of them were less than 3,000 square feet. Victor and Liz were challenged to remodel a modest 1954 house in a wooded part of Medina. As Liz quickly noticed, "This house was understated in an area that really values the opposite."
Built in only six days as a showroom model at the Seattle Home Show, their "suburban rancher" had been bought and moved to Medina by Richard A. Denny. While it may have been "state of the art" in its day, by the late 1990s its age and dated look distracted from its distinguishing features: a high-pitched roof supported by sturdy fir rafters and a brick double fireplace that formed the wall between living room and kitchen/dining area. While the house was totally open and aluminum sliding doors and windows let some light in, the center was gloomy. Unappealing asbestos tile and shag carpeting were everywhere.
Hohlbein and associate Matt Waddington listened, provided alternatives, drew plans and focused on the details. Victor and Liz briefly considered how they could make the existing house work, but finally decided to raze the western third of it, including the two-car garage, and gut the interiors. The understated, recessed entrance porch now leads to both revived and new areas (a one-car garage, plus mud, laundry and multipurpose rooms above). In back, tall casement windows open up to lawn and shrubs. Victor loves this aspect. "The house glows at night. It has a glass-house look. I was brought up near Philip Johnson's estate in New Canaan, Conn., and was very familiar with him and his work. We used to play near his glass house."
The house plan is very much drawn from the idea of having public spaces at the back oriented toward the tranquil view, and private spaces, including their two children's bedrooms and bathroom, on the opposite side of the house. In placing these rooms, Hohlbein took his cues from the 6-foot division of structural beams. The pitched roof allowed for several ample sleeping lofts for the children and their friends, while making the most of their relatively small rooms for work and play.
Visitors enter a vestibule and hall that leads to the bedrooms and bath. A den and the kitchen are perpendicular to this line. But it is hard not to be drawn to the full-height living room because a handsome wall of bookcases now defines it. The shoji-screened skylight does what the original house did not: enliven the living room with a shaft of light. The couple's enthusiasm for the process and the final product is obvious. Victor practically leaps from space to space describing the "before" and "after" transformations and the little surprises along the way. While both of them were equal partners in the planning, it was Victor's challenge to source materials for the "new" house. Whether it is as large a thing as the reclaimed clear-grain fir that covers the floor or the bronze-finished hinges that support the cabinet doors, he is proud of taking the time to find the best solution possible often at bargain prices. He credits the Internet for many of his finds. The couple have furnished with the same economy of spirit. They had brought a bed, some chairs and artwork from New England, and have added Swedish chests and tables. But they have also parted with some things. A large pine sleigh bed had to go when the master bedroom's built-in headboard was finished. The old bed just didn't seem to belong anymore. Most important has been the overriding desire to brighten up the house without making it look too new or fancy. Medina will never be New England, but when Victor and Liz are at home, they are almost there. Liz notes, "One thing that was fascinating to us was the extent to which the Northwest had really seeped into our aesthetics. If we built a house in Connecticut, it wouldn't have looked like this. This is not a saltbox and it's not Colonial. It has a zinc roof and large windows that are left natural. In New England, we would have probably painted them white and they would be multipaned and smaller. We might have had painted floors instead of salvaged fir." Victor is convinced that design matters greatly. "The architecture becomes a design element itself. In most houses here, that's not the case. But this building is beautiful independent of how you decorate it."
Lawrence Kreisman is program director for Historic Seattle. He serves on the Seattle Landmarks Preservation Board. Steve Ringman is a Seattle Times staff photographer.
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