A North Shore couple had coveted a site just three doors down their street for years, so when it became theirs they built a house that fulfilled all expectations.
Bronwyn Byrne is an easygoing woman. Why else would she allow the sparkling white glass splash-back in the kitchen of her home to be used as a message board? Notes scribbled here in red marker pen reveal there's hockey practice to remember, phonecalls to be returned - and plenty of life to be lived at breakneck speed.
Architect Paul Clarke of Crosson Clarke Carnachan Architects probably didn't envisage that Bronwyn, her husband Brent Wills, and their three boys Hugo (16), Jack (14) and Henry (11), would take to his carefully thought-out creation with a whiteboard marker. But that's the way it ought to be. This new Birkenhead Point home is no precious work of art - it has to roll with the punches.
Luckily Paul is a firm family friend. "We got to know him when he did some renovations on our old house," explains Brent. That place was a bungalow, just three doors along, where the couple had lived since 1989. Yet they always yearned to build on this vacant site in the same street, to take advantage of its full-frontal view of the Harbour Bridge and the concrete cut-out of the city. "When we stood at the top of it, we just went 'wow'," says Bronwyn. The pair's patience paid off when the landowner eventually agreed to sell the 1000-square-metre block that ran down to the water.
Paul's challenge was to make the most of the panorama offered by the steep section and to fit a family home into a tight building envelope. "We had to push the site to its limits," he says. "We needed to create privacy from the neighbours and to give full exposure to the views and the sun."
Luckily, Paul felt an immediate affinity for the site. "You had three basic levels - a fabulous connection to the ground and the bush, the intermediate part of the site, and the top where you felt like you were in a tree house - where the world was your oyster," he says.
Importantly too, the house had to satisfy the requirements of the inspectors of the heritage committee. Initially, the council stipulated a weatherboard exterior and hipped roof. But when the street was surveyed, it was revealed that almost a third of the houses were modern in style. The concession was to use weatherboard cladding and a mono-pitched roof.
The couple called in Brent's brother, Tony Will, to construct their dream. The result, which took just 14 months to complete, is a home that blends into its built environment but offers the joys of up-to-the-minute living to its occupants.
"I love all the extra space," says Bronwyn, "although you do tend to expand to fill it."
For his part, Brent's singular pleasure is that the home is warm and dry.
"I think it's the first time I've slept under a duvet that hasn't weighed kilos," he jokes.
The couple haven't left their past as bungalow owners completely behind. "In the old house, we had a stained glass window that would split the light prism into rainbows in the hallway. The kids were fascinated by that when they were young," says Brent.
This fond memory is recreated at the entrance where cast glass blocks, inlaid with signatures from the Treaty of Waitangi, break up the solidity of the totara planks that form the front door.
"I milled the totara myself about 15 years ago," says Brent who, together with artist and furniture maker Studio Pasifika's Carin Wilson, created the impressive door with its random, uneven panelling.
The minute visitors step beyond its threshold they are greeted by the breathtaking sight of shifting tides and traffic making its way over the elegant arc of the bridge. "You tend to get used to the view, to take it for granted," says Bronwyn.
The totara panelling of the door is cleverly echoed in the kitchen cabinetry and above the fireplace on the other side of the main living area at the front of the house. So are the Waitangi Treaty signatures, reworked in a metallic wall sculpture, again by Wilson, a graphic mosaic that takes pride of place in the heart of the home. But it's perhaps the curvaceous island bench in glossy white fibreglass, topped with a fine sheet of stainless-steel that is the hero
of this space. "The bench shape and surface is reminiscent of a molar," says Paul. For his part, Brent quips: "Like with all good architects, great ideas sometimes prove quite impractical to build." Suffice to say that getting the organic shape to accommodate storage drawers was a tough task that meant calling in the help of a friend who made surfboards and building a special tent to spray the "molar" in.
"Let's put it this way, it would have been cheaper to put a small European car in here," Brent laughs.
A little like childbirth, there's no gain without pain. The bench's graceful fluidity lends something special to the living room. "The rest of the house is very square, with straight lines, so this offsets that," says Bronwyn.
The walls are painted Resene "Alabaster", an innocuous backdrop that allows the couple's keepsakes to shine. In the dining area, a hanging origami lampshade made of folded veneer is a striking feature. Built-in bench seats covered in soft leather were another design nod to the bungalow tradition. "It's a great spot to fall asleep in," says Brent.
In the family room is a ceremonial camel duffel bag decorated with shells and beads, brought back from Sharjah in the Middle East. Its historical significance is counter-pointed by a streamlined L-shaped sofa designed by Simon James.
Whether the boys notice these finer details is a moot point. They are housed in the lower part of the house. "It gives them a connection to the wild aspect of the site - the bush - similar to what I remember growing up in Dunedin," says Paul Clarke. They have a fully insulated band room with a set of drums and are happy to have a separate bathroom where a triplet of vanity basins means they can all preen and clean simultaneously. "That's one way to stop the fights in the morning," laughs Bronwyn. They're also thrilled that their home has become a place to play in.
With double-height hoop-pine ceilings and a generous floor area, the youngest, Henry, makes the living room his indoor arena. Hockey is his chosen discipline and he practises dribbling around corners on the carpet and over the lengths of pale American oak flooring. Come weekends, there are enough boys who're handy with a bat to play cricket on the pristine lawn at the front of the house, and the pool offers an alternative to the nearby ocean. "They sometimes go down and jump off the neighbours' jetty at full tide," says Bronwyn.
With showers that open to the great outdoors, it's like holiday time all year round. "Living here has made it more difficult to get away for weekends," admits Brent.
The most special time for him is during winter at dusk. It's the perfect opportunity to grab a glass of pinot and retreat to the spa pool. Beyond the cantilever of the living room that shines like a beacon suspended in space is a priceless spectacle. "The whole city glows pink and orange."
No doubt the family will enjoy the colour-washed cityscape from afar for many years to come.
Creating a dream home
AdvertisementAdvertise with NZME.