Collection by Caius D. Jiga
When the Ferguson Sauder family—parents Meg, a school counselor, and Tim, a design instructor, plus kids Cole, Olive, and Asher—wanted a multifunctional backyard addition, they decided to build it themselves. Two Liftoff chairs by Tim Miller, one of Tim’s former students, surround an oil-drum fire pit set in granite dug up on the property. On the deck, the Panamericana chair is by Industry of All Nations.
When the Ferguson Sauder family—parents Meg, a school counselor, and Tim, a design instructor, plus kids Cole, Olive, and Asher—wanted a multifunctional backyard addition, they decided to build it themselves. Two Liftoff chairs by Tim Miller, one of Tim’s former students, surround an oil-drum fire pit set in granite dug up on the property. On the deck, the Panamericana chair is by Industry of All Nations.
Lisbeth Juul and Laust Nørgaard drew upon their years of experience living on the water to design and build an 860-square-foot floating home in Copenhagen Harbor. The home’s minimal form and furnishings reflect the residents’ desire to downsize following three years on land.
Lisbeth Juul and Laust Nørgaard drew upon their years of experience living on the water to design and build an 860-square-foot floating home in Copenhagen Harbor. The home’s minimal form and furnishings reflect the residents’ desire to downsize following three years on land.
Architect: Augustus Mino + Robert Fitzpatrick, Location: Chappaqua, New York
Architect: Augustus Mino + Robert Fitzpatrick, Location: Chappaqua, New York
Ray sits at the central hearth on the north end of the comfortable sunken living area. From this perspective, you can see how the interior spaces flow into one another, passing one half-level up into the breakfast nook and kitchen and out from there onto the overgrown hillside. The various built-in furnishings have all been there since the house's construction.
Ray sits at the central hearth on the north end of the comfortable sunken living area. From this perspective, you can see how the interior spaces flow into one another, passing one half-level up into the breakfast nook and kitchen and out from there onto the overgrown hillside. The various built-in furnishings have all been there since the house's construction.
Built in 1953, the Wiley House is made up of a single glass-and-wood rectangular pavilion that’s perched on top of a rectangular box made of stone and concrete. Johnson chose the six-acre plot of land himself and was particularly fond of the natural slopes of the site, which is surrounded by hickory trees.
Built in 1953, the Wiley House is made up of a single glass-and-wood rectangular pavilion that’s perched on top of a rectangular box made of stone and concrete. Johnson chose the six-acre plot of land himself and was particularly fond of the natural slopes of the site, which is surrounded by hickory trees.
Nakada works from an Alvar Aalto table in the living and dining area, adjacent to the kitchen. He saved on some elements, such as the plywood cabinetry, and splurged on others, such as the Finn Juhl chairs and Vilhelm Lauritzen lamp. A skylight beneath the angled roof allows in a sliver of constantly changing light.
Nakada works from an Alvar Aalto table in the living and dining area, adjacent to the kitchen. He saved on some elements, such as the plywood cabinetry, and splurged on others, such as the Finn Juhl chairs and Vilhelm Lauritzen lamp. A skylight beneath the angled roof allows in a sliver of constantly changing light.
“We really wanted to capture the ruinous quality of this old building rather than do something overtly new,” says Greg Blee, founding partner at Blee Halligan Architects. Before construction could begin, however, he and Halligan had to patch the remaining walls using stones found in the nearby river. Wherever a wall had collapsed, the designers inserted framing to create windows and doors. For the roof, they turned to the original tiles. “My father’s terrible at throwing things away,” Blee says. “We took the tiles off 30 years ago, as it was too dangerous to have them up there. They’ve been sitting in the fields ever since, and this was our last chance to use them.”
“We really wanted to capture the ruinous quality of this old building rather than do something overtly new,” says Greg Blee, founding partner at Blee Halligan Architects. Before construction could begin, however, he and Halligan had to patch the remaining walls using stones found in the nearby river. Wherever a wall had collapsed, the designers inserted framing to create windows and doors. For the roof, they turned to the original tiles. “My father’s terrible at throwing things away,” Blee says. “We took the tiles off 30 years ago, as it was too dangerous to have them up there. They’ve been sitting in the fields ever since, and this was our last chance to use them.”
Set in a beautiful stretch of fjord country about 250 miles northwest of Oslo, the Juvet Landscape Hotel is the kind of place you could not even dream up. The minimalist design of the Juvet's rooms bring guests into close contact with the Valldola River and the sublime valley beyond it.
Set in a beautiful stretch of fjord country about 250 miles northwest of Oslo, the Juvet Landscape Hotel is the kind of place you could not even dream up. The minimalist design of the Juvet's rooms bring guests into close contact with the Valldola River and the sublime valley beyond it.