Ramble On
A Kirkland couple opts for reconstruction over destruction.
Trogdon listened to the couple’s smaller, more detailed requests, too, noting the important minutiae of their daily lives: where the mail would collect, what they were likely to have in their hands when they walked through the front door and where they’d want to put it. “The big move had mostly to do with circulation,” he says. “We developed conceptual diagrams that showed ‘use relationships’ [gestural drawings that suggest the manner and frequency with which the owners would move about their home]. Once you arrive at something that satisfies those, that’s the point at which you start to breathe in the architecture.”
Daylight flows through a series of loosely defined ground-floor rooms, painted a warm, sun-infused white that washes through the living area, dining alcove, and kitchen. Here, instead of walls, clusters of furniture define the spaces in which all action—particularly that of the inquisitive toddlers—stays comfortably public. The double-height living room, informally composed and as breezy as an aviary, showcases a composition of hand-stitched cardboard by Seattle artist Bryan Smith. Its bubble-gum-squashed-against-sidewalk shapes cover the high wall in a fungal meander over the original fireplace, which is preserved, painted, and framed like a formal work of art, in stark contrast to the composition above. At the opposite end of the house, black slate countertops in the kitchen contrast with toasted orange, vertical-grain fir cabinets and echo the visual weight and color of the hearth. A grove of laminated fir posts and beams traces the lines of the original foundation and supports the newly added second story for private quarters above.
With their palette of soft natural hues and newly added windows to wash out the shadows, the top-floor bedrooms feel like airborne outposts. The effect is heightened when you walk down the hallway across a suspended diagonal catwalk, open to the living room below, to a small, sunny day room at the other end. Resembling a tree house held aloft above the front door, the room becomes, for the children, a strategic fort from which to spy on neighborhood goings-on; for the parents, a quiet library with a prospect to the lazy bustle of the lake.
Having roughly doubled in size, the now 4,000-square-foot home has matured gracefully as it enters its sixth decade. Trogdon’s intervention allowed the structure to finally take root, ambling easily into the verdant landscape through a series of stepped terraces. The house, always a good investment for its location, simple utility, and solid construction, has been given a chance to breathe. “When I’m giving a friend a quick tour of our home, I’ll point out the sections of the original design,” Pappalardo says. “They always seem to enjoy that—getting those glimpses of what was there before. And so do we.”
Published: September 2008
