HANCOCK PARK
Our own home owes its inspiration to my family’s pleasurable travels in Provence, and the long and inspiring lunches we enjoyed under the sycamores in Aix. When my wife, Kazuko, and I first viewed the house, located in the historic Hancock Park district of Los Angeles, what we found was an architectural hodgepodge, the result of several decades’ worth of misguided renovations. Yet the generous, fan-shaped property, in one of LA’s loveliest old neighborhoods, showed a lot of promise, so we decided to rework the structure in accordance with local preservation standards, which mandated that we limit modifications to the front façade. As the roof pitch proved steeper than would typically be found on a Spanish or Italian villa, we moved the design in a Provençal direction, selecting taupe roof tiles rather than the expected terra cotta, and a blue-grey palette instead of the usual beige. In front, we added a low wall, fountain, and plantings evocative of southern France to create a gentle introductory layer between the house and street.
As the property was generous and appealing, we took advantage of a dilapidated two-car garage at the lot’s rear to create a compound, rather than enlarging the house to accommodate our family’s needs. By expanding the garage to include a pool pavilion, complete with family room, gym, and guest quarters, and installing floor-to-ceiling glass-and-steel windows and doors along the back of the house, Kazuko and I could maintain a more intimate main residence, and activate the yard by creating openness and movement between the two structures.
The result is a light-filled, nearly loft-like residence with a living room that stretches the full width of the house, dining room, study, and kitchen downstairs; and a master suite and child’s room for our young son upstairs. Given that, like many families, we seem to spend most of our time in the kitchen/breakfast room, we enlarged the space and opened it up to the garden, and indulged ourselves with a fireplace. We raised the roof to produce a more volumetric master bedroom with a high circular window—thereby avoiding views of close-at-hand neighbors.
In the pool pavilion, the family room—which I call “the cabin” because of the tongue-and-groove paneling and wood beams—opens up completely to the patio and adjoins a large shower and changing room that is always a favorite with guests. My own preferred spot is the Moroccan-inspired roof deck, where, in warm weather, we dine nightly, and in fact all of the outdoor spaces have been designed to be habitable “rooms.”
For the past decade Kazuko has overseen my firm’s interior design group, and the décor reflects the simple elegance that defines her sensibility: clean-lined custom furnishings, interspersed with the mostly mid-century and pre-war French and Italian vintage pieces we’ve gathered over time, and a few artworks and objects selected for their colorful and graphic qualities. It is a relaxed yet cosmopolitan design that takes its cue from the large Matisse-inspired David Hockney lithograph—breezily evocative of a fantasy Côte d’Azur— above the living room sofa.
Our home looks pretty civilized, in keeping with a neighborhood that was one of the city’s first venerable enclaves. Yet it’s an easy place for a family to live—casual, accommodating and relaxed.
