This house was a mid-century dream come true for one dedicated Taranaki man.
This Taranaki homeowner always harboured a passion for mid-century design – then found the house to further his dream
‘The hardware is the jewellery of the house’
With its delicious aluminium curves, the coffee maker that sits like an object of industrial art on the stove at Matt Cochran’s home has something atomic-age about it. No surprises there. Matt is a passionate modernist who fell on his feet when, in 2015, he snapped up this 1963 dwelling in a city fringe suburb of New Plymouth for him and his two young kids Ruby and Sam. He had to hold his nerve in negotiations and downplay his excitement though. “There were obvious issues with the house including that the ceiling was full of asbestos,” he says. He was “stoked” when the sellers accepted $465,000.
Originally built for construction company owners Laurie and Jill Cleland, the home was avant-garde for its time. With a gull-wing roof and concrete buttresses holding the cantilevered upper level, it sat on an elevated site with views of the suburbs and a northerly peep of the sea. Some 60 years later, it had endured the usual makeovers and was carpeted throughout, with horrid laminate benchtops.
Matt, an engineer, also spotted some dubious original details. A glazed corner of the living room where the glass butted straight up to the ceiling had minimal structural support – “the windows used to bow in a stiff breeze” – and an experimental roof made of compressed straw and then sprayed with asbestos was a health hazard. “When it rained, it leaked in three places.”
This was no quick fix. To return to the original idea, based on the post-and-beam houses of Palm Springs, was going to take a Herculean effort. “Given the extent of the works required to replace the roof structure it made sense to look at the entire living space and come up with an over-arching plan,” says Matt.
While the eastern side of the upper level was demolished, the solo dad and his two charges moved out for six months. Then Matt collaborated with designer Michael Mansvelt to re-shape this 10sqm zone (borrowing space from the balcony) to become the heart of an authentic design story.
A pineapple-like Phoenix palm that marks the entry looks in keeping with the era and the aesthetic of the freshly painted house. But it’s not original to the property. Matt, ever the opportunist, came to an agreement with neighbours who had the tall tree in their garden. “It was blocking sun and views so we went shares in getting it moved.”
Not much prepares visitors for that first wow moment when they step inside, but mid-century enthusiasts are guaranteed to be delighted. The framework is open-plan with a ceiling that slopes up 3.5m above the floors. Beams were repurposed to become a retro-style wooden room divider that sections off the staircase and the new windows are now double-glazed with timber frames – an irony not lost on Matt who works as a product design manager for an aluminium extrusion business. “My boss almost didn’t forgive me,” he says.
Keeping the faith. That’s what it’s all about. Matt’s
eye for detail is well honed and he’s fitted and furnished the spaces with care and joy. The kitchen, designed with Elite Kitchens, features slimline stainless steel benches and the rich, honeyed tones of mātai veneer cabinetry to tie in with the floors. “At first we considered putting travertine down, but once the carpet was pulled up and I saw the floors that was it.”
The fireplace, which had earlier bisected the space, was moved to one end of the room: it vies for attention with an artichoke pendant above the dining table and artwork that could never be termed low-key. Matt is a fan of photographer Slim Aarons and several prints channel the exuberance and
energy of the jet set California lifestyle in the 1950s.
Brown leather sofas, a vintage Danish sideboard from Whangamomona (where else?), a Mies van der Rohe replica day bed discovered on Trade Me, a starburst wall clock, German pottery and a host of pot plants all key into Matt’s theme.
In the same spirit, he’s slowly replacing the balustrading on the verandah with custom-made reeded glass and the handles on internal doors with solid brass. “You can’t be half-arsed about these things. The hardware is the jewellery of the house.”
A fondue set on the dining-room table is not just for show. “The kids and I love the chocolate ones,” says Matt. And, when the youngsters head to bed, Dad has been known to while away the evenings with a dram from one of his collection of vintage decanters.
In his bedroom, a wall was removed to create an ensuite where the same glitter-kissed gold and brown mosaics as in the kitchen lend a sense of glam. There have been other nostalgic updates here too: blue grasscloth papers the walls and pelmets, there’s a built-in headboard and retro yellow glass lampshades that throw castellated patterns of light onto the walls at night.
When Ruby and Sam’s mum Angela died after a brief battle with bowel cancer, Matt found solace in his passion for timeless design and modernist architecture. Safe to say that planning and implementing changes to this special house has been part of the healing process too. “It was an amazing process, seeing where the house has come from and where it resides now. I’d happily do it all again.”
On weekends, when he’s not shopping for birthday presents to take along to a children’s party, watching Saturday morning school sport, cycling with the kids or tearing around on his Vespa on an op shop investigation, he spends much of his time tinkering in the garage dismantling a VW Beetle to turn into a beach buggy. While he has learned to live in the moment, he is also quietly building a future that pays heed to the past.