First Ave Renovation
A long familiarity with this family, school pickups, playdates, the rhythm of suburb life, offered an intimacy that shaped the entire project. The personalities in the household, some big and bold, some quiet and in need of solitude, became the starting point for what unfolded.
The house is a charming 1910s cottage in Kingsland, but two renovations over 100 years had confused the interior spaces and disconnected it from its generous back yard. On a north-facing site, the living areas received no sunlight. Three children were outgrowing shared bedrooms in a three-bedroom, one-bathroom home. Hockey sticks lined the hallway, baking equipment filled overflowing cupboards, and a well-used timber table spoke of a household bursting at the seams. Although no longer fit for purpose, the home had housed them for years and through wear and tear told its own story of what mattered.
The brief was unformed, as happens in busy families where life moves so quickly you lose sense of who you are. Creating it became as much an exercise in finding a way back to what matters as imagining something new. The response was a layering of testing and learning, presenting options of colour, light and shape to gauge visceral responses. Discussions of childhood homes and places of past refuge drew out the concept of prospect and refuge, which shaped decisions throughout.
The living spaces were pushed to the rear of the building, away from the existing house, and bridged with a sunny gallery that also houses the family bathroom, laundry and storage. Lifting the roof towards the north created a courtyard to the east that lets light pour into more spaces and gives all the living areas warmth and abundance, eave angles finely tuning what sun is allowed in summer versus winter. The effect is a gloriously sunny building in place of what was dark.
Hidden behind the kitchen lies the snug, bathed in earthy greens and burgundy, wool carpet underfoot, velvet drapes. It is a purposefully small and intimate retreat for down-regulating after a long day at school or work, tucked away for those wanting to retreat from the family.
The extension is clad in brick and charred abodo timber. The brick references what was already on site and is part of Kingsland's heritage. The black timber offers a counterpoint to the white of the existing house, allowing the extension to stand on its own. Inside, brick gallery walls ground the home to its site, binding old cottage and new with tactile solidity. The fireplace uses subtle brick angles to soften acoustics. Solid oak door jambs float delicately away from painted surface or brick, celebrating the fine carpentry of the original house. In the family bathroom, matt tiles arranged in fractal patterns alleviate the senses amid morning chaos. In the ensuite, colourful grout lines inspired by quilts passed down through the family offer an optimistic surprise to the morning routine.
The kitchen sits at the centre, its angled front following the geometry of the gallery, welcoming people into the extension without blocking flows or views. A central services hub with its own external door means muddy sports gear goes straight to the wash. Oak carries through the house, unifying the palette.
This project was about understanding a family, their joys and struggles, in order to create a home that could withstand the drama of daily life and provide refuge and rejuvenation within its walls. It has materially altered how the family live.
Interior design in collaboration with Fiona Clarke.
A long familiarity with this family, school pickups, playdates, the rhythm of suburb life, offered an intimacy that shaped the entire project. The personalities in the household, some big and bold, some quiet and in need of solitude, became the starting point for what unfolded.
The house is a charming 1910s cottage in Kingsland, but two renovations over 100 years had confused the interior spaces and disconnected it from its generous back yard. On a north-facing site, the living areas received no sunlight. Three children were outgrowing shared bedrooms in a three-bedroom, one-bathroom home. Hockey sticks lined the hallway, baking equipment filled overflowing cupboards, and a well-used timber table spoke of a household bursting at the seams. Although no longer fit for purpose, the home had housed them for years and through wear and tear told its own story of what mattered.
The brief was unformed, as happens in busy families where life moves so quickly you lose sense of who you are. Creating it became as much an exercise in finding a way back to what matters as imagining something new. The response was a layering of testing and learning, presenting options of colour, light and shape to gauge visceral responses. Discussions of childhood homes and places of past refuge drew out the concept of prospect and refuge, which shaped decisions throughout.
The living spaces were pushed to the rear of the building, away from the existing house, and bridged with a sunny gallery that also houses the family bathroom, laundry and storage. Lifting the roof towards the north created a courtyard to the east that lets light pour into more spaces and gives all the living areas warmth and abundance, eave angles finely tuning what sun is allowed in summer versus winter. The effect is a gloriously sunny building in place of what was dark.
Hidden behind the kitchen lies the snug, bathed in earthy greens and burgundy, wool carpet underfoot, velvet drapes. It is a purposefully small and intimate retreat for down-regulating after a long day at school or work, tucked away for those wanting to retreat from the family.
The extension is clad in brick and charred abodo timber. The brick references what was already on site and is part of Kingsland's heritage. The black timber offers a counterpoint to the white of the existing house, allowing the extension to stand on its own. Inside, brick gallery walls ground the home to its site, binding old cottage and new with tactile solidity. The fireplace uses subtle brick angles to soften acoustics. Solid oak door jambs float delicately away from painted surface or brick, celebrating the fine carpentry of the original house. In the family bathroom, matt tiles arranged in fractal patterns alleviate the senses amid morning chaos. In the ensuite, colourful grout lines inspired by quilts passed down through the family offer an optimistic surprise to the morning routine.
The kitchen sits at the centre, its angled front following the geometry of the gallery, welcoming people into the extension without blocking flows or views. A central services hub with its own external door means muddy sports gear goes straight to the wash. Oak carries through the house, unifying the palette.
This project was about understanding a family, their joys and struggles, in order to create a home that could withstand the drama of daily life and provide refuge and rejuvenation within its walls. It has materially altered how the family live.
Interior design in collaboration with Fiona Clarke.