One look at rafters sold architect on property.
Architect’s home promotes less materialism, more togetherness
One day in 1997, Myron Nebozuk was reconnoitering a house for sale in a nice, established Edmonton neighbourhood.
He was in the basement when it happened. One moment, he was all vital-signs normal. Then he tilted his head up to look at the rafters.
That’s when the gasping, swooning and technical jibber-jabber began. That’s when Myron ran up the stairs to put in an offer on the house.
The offer was accepted and Myron and his family have lived happily in the house, ever since.
Question: What did Myron see in the rafters that got him so excited?
Answer: Douglas fir beams and decking. Question: Uh. OK ... what? Answer: Myron is an architect.
As Myron explains it to me, Douglas fir is top-grade stuff. Not only that, but the Douglas fir in his house is of a diameter and calibre rarely seen outside of mansions and historic mountain park hotels.
“I knew it was a solid house,” he said. “The structure was good, so I knew I could open it up.”
What he means was he could fool around with the interior walls without the place collapsing. He could load the house with a million books without the walls collapsing. And he could live in a house that met one of his core architectural values — what he calls “adaptive reuse.”
The house itself symbolizes this ethic. Myron could have knocked this house down and designed something from scratch. But it takes scads of resources and energy to build a home. Renovating this one was far gentler on the planet.
The home is one of those 1960s flatroof jobs you see in some west-end neighbourhoods. The initial owner was a homebuilder and Myron suspects he saved the best materials for this house.
Thus, the Douglas fir. But also the red cedar planks in the angled ceiling above the living room. Not a knot to be found in the ceiling. Seriously, not a knot. Not kidding.
The home has three bedrooms, one full bathroom and two half-baths. It was 1,400 square feet, but is now closer to 1,600.
A small addition was added at the back for easy access to the humongous backyard. How humongous? Myron thinks he’ll let the ravine’s foliage overtake part of the yard, so that he can adaptively reuse his summer weekends for something other than mowing.
The Nebozuks redid the flooring and the kitchen in the home. A huge wall unit was taken out. Walls were painted. Sycamore was used to create a geometric storage wall in one bedroom and for cabinets and such in other parts of the house.
Sycamore is blond and fine-grained and lovely. Just like Veronica Lake’s hair, says Myron. Go on — Google her. She’s got nice hair.
“Everybody has dark wood nowadays,” Myron says. “Sycamore is my favourite wood. It makes me happy.”
The floors are all light colours, too. Light floors reflect sunlight, therefore reducing the need to turn on lights, Myron says.
The living room furniture is modernist, of dark leather or cloth and chrome, in the style of architect and designer Le Corbusier, Myron says.
The “couch” by the fireplace is particularly cool. It looks like what a pop art exhibit would use for bleacher seating.
Myron first described the home as a bit like an Austin Powers shag pad. True. There is a 1960s vibe to the place. Myron is fascinated by the music of the 1960s and says it influences his architecture.
But Austin Powers’ shag pad? Only if Austin was a learned man.
The Nebozuk home is full of magazines and books. Stacks and shelves piled with books. Architectural books. All kinds of books.
So there is a bit of chaos amid the order in the home. But it is all OK with Myron. Trust an architect to see things deeper than us — deeper than me, at least.
The books, he says, are an obsession. He hunts for rare copies. The shelves and stacks are like groups of old friends, he says.
Myron likes that the home isn’t large. He likes that his daughters must spread books out on the dining room table to do their homework.
The living room and kitchen are adjacent so the family bumps into and up against each other a lot.
The design of the space creates intimacy and opportunities to interact and communicate that some homes don’t encourage, Myron says.
“It’s a modest house, but in many ways it’s a spectacular house,” he says.
Agreed. Right down to the rafters.