Month: February 2016

Before he turned 6 years old, architect Jeff Dreyfus had his career mapped out.

“I played all day with a suitcase full of Legos and drew house plans,” says the co-founder of Bushman Dreyfus Architects. “That was it. I never thought of doing anything else.” But, as he tells it, the town in southern Louisiana where he grew up was not necessarily “an architect’s paradise.” It was traveling the world that helped expand his view and hone his design sense.

But what drives him now? “Trying to make spaces that people love inhabiting,” he says. Sometimes, it really is as simple as that.

We asked Dreyfus to tell us about his college experience, why he came to Virginia and what’s in his studio now.—Caite White

Why architecture?

First, I wanted to be a dog catcher. That waned at about age 5. After that, I wanted to be an architect. I was fortunate to find my passion early on. But “why architecture?” I’m fascinated with the process of taking a construct of the mind and making it a three-dimensional reality. It’s not easy, and it requires an artistic vision, precision, clear communication and an awful lot of people skills. I believe it’s that combination that intrigues me.

Why did you choose to practice in Virginia?

I came to Charlottesville for graduate school and was offered a job at a local firm upon graduating. I worked there for three years and then decided that I was ready to live in a large city, so I moved to Boston. I had a great time there, but I realized how much I missed the kind of life I had here, so I moved back after just one year. Charlottesville reminds me of the small city that I grew up in—Lafayette, Louisiana—where you recognize people on the street, even if you don’t know them. Where you can make a contribution to civic organizations even if you don’t have lots of money to donate. And where you can live a nice life at a reasonable pace. So I guess I chose Charlottesville more so than Virginia.

What was your childhood like, and how did it lead you to design?

South Louisiana wasn’t what I would consider an architect’s paradise. I was fortunate enough to travel and see some of the world, and I was always fascinated with building design—good, clear, beautiful building designs intrigued me and resonated with me, wherever we went. I was a studious kid, and my parents were fully supportive of anything my three siblings and I wanted to do; they never once suggested I consider pursuing anything other than architecture. My career path was clear early on—by my own doing—and my family was supportive every step of the way.

Tell us about your college experience. Was there a standout teacher who had a lasting impact on you?

I earned an undergraduate degree at Washington University in St. Louis, Missouri. Professor Leslie Laskey taught the second year intensive design studio. We met three consecutive days a week, four hours every day. The focus was not on architectural design, but on design in general. His assignments were insane: Come back tomorrow with 15 different posters, each of them non-directional, some color, some black and white and each of them advertising one specific meeting at the student union. It forced me to explore a variety of ideas quickly, worrying less about the final product and thinking more about the process and the content. That lesson—and others that he taught us—have helped me every day as an architect.

On process: How does it begin?

It starts with listening to our clients, followed by analysis of the site, whether that’s an existing structure, an open piece of land or an historic structure that must be rehabilitated. Then it’s a series of iterations that explore ways to meld what the client wants with what the site (or structure) suggests. When those two agendas come together clearly and without forcing a fit, you know you’re probably on the right track.

What inspires you?

The people I work with, from our clients to our employees, because they’ve offered me their trust. And every tool we have to work with! Space, light, texture, color, form and views are very real opportunities that we work hard to manipulate into something with beauty and meaning. Trying to make spaces that people love inhabiting is what drives me. When the design feels exactly right—as though it was always supposed to be that—I feel as though we’ve made something with meaning and value for our clients and—hopefully—for the community in which it’s built.

What are you working on now?

We have a house under construction in Florida, on the ocean. We’ve been working with a wonderful couple there for two years, and it should be finished in another year or so. The contractor is one of the very best I’ve ever worked with and he’s made the construction process a very fun, collaborative venture.

We’re designing a new, mixed-use building for the three parcels on West Main Street just west of the ABC store. The project includes the Blue Moon Diner and another contributing structure, so it comes with a variety of opportunities and challenges. We’re excited to have the chance to help shape the near future of West Main Street! Fresh out of graduate school, I lived two doors down in the yellow building next to the church—so I’ve been thinking about the possibilities for West Main Street—and these parcels—for a very, very long time.

There’s a new house in Free Union that we’re designing for a young family that has moved back to their home state of Virginia after having lived in New York City for many, many years. The site is over 30 acres with great views. They’re as excited about the landscape opportunities as they are about figuring out how they want to live in a home that’s larger than a New York apartment. She’s an architectural historian, so I have to say I was a bit intimidated when we started the design process, but I’ve gotten over that. They’re just wonderful to work with.

And we’re helping the owners of an historic farm just west of town figure out how to turn their beautiful but quirky farmhouse into a home that meets the needs of a 21st-century family. It’s a beautiful structure, and the challenge is to honor the original structure without overwhelming its scale or its simple beauty.

Among Jeff Dreyfus’ projects are (clockwise from left) the restoration of Cobb Island Station on the Eastern Shore, an update to a 1935 international-style house, the Roslyn Conference and Retreat Center in Richmond and Pippin Hill Farm & Vineyard. On the previous page, a modern home in East Aurora, New York, features a floor-to-ceiling glass façade overlooking a lake.

What’s the difference between grand and grandiose? Anyone trying to make the distinction would do well to take Clouds Hill Farm as an example. Impressive in size, it’s nonetheless laid-back, not caring too much what we think of it—which is, somehow, a key to its appeal.

Here are the facts: On 35 acres in Ivy (and yes, that is your basic Great Location) sits a house that was once a barn. Built in the 1870s, the structure became a residence in the 1950s and, though it was already the size of, well, a barn, it’s gained additional space since then. The result is a home that is truly enormous: nearly 10,500 square feet, a size that feels at times almost bewildering.

Yet look at the front façade: The house appears to be no larger than the typical entry in a new subdivision. It doesn’t flaunt its size at all. Venerable oak trees, some unusually close to the house, and mature plantings soften the effect; the natural wood exterior blends with the surroundings; and the roofline is low. Only the entry, with its smart bright-red door, makes a definitive statement.

Once you start to move through the interior, though, it becomes clear that this place is actually rather vast. The rooms are mostly large; there are many of them, including six bedrooms; and there’s a quality of endlessness to the way the hallways and closet doors and built-in shelves keep on coming as you explore the two and a half floors.

So what are all these spaces like? Befitting its origin as an agricultural building, there’s lots of natural wood, on floors and walls, and the original hand-hewn posts and beams stand in all their glory. The great room fireplace is made of massive, rough chunks of stone. In a powder room, a hunk of soapstone has been fashioned into a sink. You’ll notice many charming details, little moments of color and texture that add character to the mostly neutral palette, like a closet door with salvaged hardware and a weathered green finish.

The other factor that’ll get many hearts racing is that the views through the house’s many windows are completely seductive. Just beyond a large stone patio are acres of pasture enclosed by board fences, a pond and glimpses of the other structures on the property (a poolside cottage and a horse barn being the major ones). Ultimately, the eye finds the distant mountains.

So it’s all rather easy to love. Of course, one needs to consider the implications of so much interior space. Here’s where “grand” starts to shade into “grandiose”: a master bathroom that’s almost 22′ in length. It’s a beautiful room, with an unusual metal tub and numerous windows that give it a treehouse feel, but it’s almost comically large.

While most individual rooms don’t feel oversized, the sheer proliferation of bedrooms, balconies, seating areas and closets is on a scale way beyond what most families are used to. It’ll take a certain kind of buyer to confidently inhabit such a palace.

The same family has lived here for more than three decades, so the house feels lived-in and, in places, ready for some updates. The wing of bedrooms that’s opposite the master suite, in particular, is a little dated and a lot banged up by kids.

Challenges aside, Clouds Hill is a special place. This house is artsy, casual and almost California-like in its familiar connection to the outdoors. Whoever becomes its next steward will have a gracious and unique place to call home.

THE BREAKDOWN

Address: 1685 Owensville Rd.

MLS#: 533616

Year built: 1951

Bedrooms: 6

Bathrooms: 3.5

Square footage (finished): 10,453

Acreage: 35

List price: $3.9 million

When Kristen Kaylor and her family moved into their new house off Rio Road last November, they didn’t get to make too many choices. The home was a spec house built by Bramante Homes, and much of the kitchen design had already been completed by Amy Hart of Albemarle Cabinet Co.

Fortunately, Hart had been careful to design for broad appeal—but, she says, “not too vanilla.” In trying to create a kitchen that had some identity beyond builder standards, she looked for subtle but characterful variations on the kitchen status quo.

“Changing the colors up was risky,” she says. Whereas most of the Wellborn Shaker-style cabinets are in Glacier white, the central island stands apart in Dove gray. This restful hue echoes the wall color and repeats in the cabinetry in the adjacent butler’s pantry.

The kitchen’s layout is essentially symmetrical, with the sink in the island, and the cooktop anchoring the center of the wall of cabinetry. “I wanted to flank the stove with tall items,” says Hart: On either end of the cabinets are deeper, full-height cupboards with shelves for storing platters and other large items. One of these also houses a Bosch convection microwave—stainless steel, like the other appliances.

A Bosch convection cooktop makes for easy cleanup and, says Kaylor, can boil a large pot of water in less than two minutes. Like the recessed LED lighting, the cooktop increases the house’s energy efficiency. The chimney-style vent hood above is a contemporary touch in a mostly traditional home, as are the industrial pendant lights, from Shades of Light, above the island.

Hart chose granite countertops in a leathered finish, which Kaylor says tends to stay cleaner-looking than polished granite—especially with a 2-year-old in the house. In fact, she says, the entire room is family-friendly: Spaces are big enough that her son can maneuver around the island with his Kitchen Helper (a wide elevated platform that gives kids a better view of kitchen goings-on).

Wood floors warm up the space, which flows into a small eat-in dining area and the living room. Room for three or four barstools along the island will make a great homework and snack spot in future years. The open plan allows for family togetherness, and having the sink in the island keeps the dish-doer connected to what’s happening in the living room. “It also allows more space to do dishes,” says Kaylor.

The Kaylors did choose the white backsplash tile, a classic subway pattern; pewter-colored grout provides contrast and matches the walls. Cabinet hardware, chosen by Hart, is also pewter finish; this, says Hart, went with the stainless steel appliances but wasn’t “ordinary,” as once-novel brushed nickel has become.

The butler’s pantry is an especially nice touch here. Its cabinets are all glass-front, allowing the Kaylors to show off their china, and they extend to the ceiling because, as Hart says, they would otherwise emphasize the smallness of the pantry. Extra counter space here serves as a coffee bar and staging area for the adjacent formal dining room.

The Kaylors are still learning their new kitchen, filling copious storage and getting used to little conveniences (like the pull-out drawer for trash, located right below their favored spot for food prep). In designing, says Hart, “Our goal was a neutral background for someone to put their personal stamp on.”

Robin and Craig Ellis were searching for the perfect name for their Keswick property when they took a drive on the Blue Ridge Parkway. A sign directed their gaze across a ravine to a scree field—a place where fragments of rock covered a slope. These pieces, the remnants of a large boulder, are called “talus”: a perfect metaphor, the couple thought, for the transformation they’d undertaken at home.

The 1960s split-level ranch house on their property had served them well for a time, but they knew it wasn’t their ultimate home. “Talus” is now the name of an impressive traditional house they built in its place. As they moved into the empty-nest phase of their lives, the idea of transformation became a touchstone for them personally, and an apt description of how they sought to change the raw materials of their seven-acre property into something new.

“I love classical design,” says Robin, who designed the house in collaboration with architect Bethany Puopolo. “I think it’s the most beautiful and highest form of architecture.” The Greek Revival style, associated with historical American buildings, especially attracted her.

“I like a traditional division of spaces, not an open floor plan,” Robin says. “I wanted it to fit into the neighborhood,” which is well-known for its stately historic horse farms.

Though quite formal from the front, the house reveals a not-entirely-traditional spirit within. “I wanted to tweak it to get more light in.”

She began with the idea of a traditional center hall, one that would allow a view straight through the house from the front entry. To admit light into each room from both sides, she considered designing the home only one room deep, eventually moving toward a four-over-four floor plan.

“We focused on the proportions of the openings,” says Puopolo—including a large cased opening between the living and dining rooms. Large windows all around, including a rear wall filled with French doors, bring in the sun. Most interior doors include some glass to keep the light moving through.

Puopolo says that Ellis’ concept, in terms of massing, was unusually pure. “The fact that it is ‘just a box’ is unusual. It was refreshing and inspiring.”

Updated classic

The Ellises own three horses and wanted to site the house in a way that would maximize the open space on their property. “I wanted the pool, patio and house all clustered,” says Robin. From the back porch off the main level, where the couple spends free time in three seasons, the view alights on the horse pasture downhill.

An outdoorsy, horse-and-dog lifestyle is dear to the couple and made its own demands on the program of the house. “We needed a really good mudroom,” says Ellis. On the basement level, she can enter the mudroom at the rear of the house, put tack in a dedicated closet and launder horse blankets in a large, cheerful space with cabinets salvaged from the ranch house. Ceramic tile floors mimic the bluestone on the patio outside, but are easier to clean and more affordable.

This basement level, like the two above, is about 1,500 square feet—enough for a large office/den for Robin, a mother-in-law suite and an “orangerie” along the rear wall, a light-filled spot for plants and dogs.

On the main level, the space is divided fairly evenly among living, dining, kitchen and Craig’s office: four quadrants separated by the wide center hall and stairwell. This time-tested arrangement has distinctly contemporary touches, in architecture and décor—from the Arteriors chandelier with blown-glass birds, to the tiny powder room cleverly placed off a stair landing, to the large banks of windows in the kitchen.

Mixing the eras

It’s a lovely balance—guided by Robin’s experience as an interior designer—of the nostalgic and the modern. The kitchen harkens back to an earlier era with its brass fittings and softly hued marble countertops, but a showy wall-mounted wine rack is entirely of the present. Ellis refinished a number of salvaged elements, like mantels and doors, to lend a sense of history. “I tried to use indigenous materials”—brick, wood, bluestone—“as though it was built at a time when only local materials were available,” says Ellis.

The details (overseen by Ellis, Puopolo and project manager Chad Graves with Evergreen Construction) are luxurious but subtle, and they add up to an homage to the Greek Revival style. “We increased the size and detailing of the corner boards to have them read as pilasters,” says Puopolo, “and created special casing around openings and a deeper cornice.” Front porch columns are a Greek Doric style, meaning they lack a base at the bottom end. “We tried to create a vernacular version of a Greek Revival house rather than a reproduction,” says Puopolo, “a country carpenter’s version of the style.”

Brass cremone bolts on the French doors inside lend luxury, while the team’s willingness to use various types of wood and hardware add to the sense that this house is lived-in, “not matchy matchy,” says Ellis. “We mixed a ton of different woods.” Windows are fir, floors are white oak and the kitchen’s center island is walnut—and that’s not to mention the repurposed doors and mantels throughout the house.

“We love the way the double chimneys turned out,” says Puopolo. “From the road they give the impression that the house is much older than it is.”

“Everybody who comes up thinks it’s been here forever,” says Ellis. “One delivery driver said, ‘How long have you been working on this renovation?’ That was the biggest unintended compliment we got.”

The breakdown

Square footage: 4,500 square feet

Structural system: Wood framing

Exterior material: Hardiplank siding with brick raised basement

Interior finishes: White oak flooring; Carrera, Crema Marfil and Calcutta marble counters and tile

Roof materials: Standing seam metal and copper

Window system: Loewen push-out French casement (fir interior and clad exterior)

Mechanical systems: Radiant heat flooring, gas stovetop, wood burning fireplaces

General contractor: Evergreen General Contracting