‘Our little private oasis, right in the city’
RENOVATION NEARLY DOUBLES SIZE OF CABBAGETOWN HOME
MY FAVOURITE THING TO DO IS TO TAKE A HOUSE FROM A COMPLETELY UNRENOVATED STATE — WHERE YOU HAVE TO GO IN WEARING A MASK BECAUSE OF THE MOULD — AND COMPLETELY TRANSFORM IT. — ARCHITECTURAL DESIGNER JULIEN ROBILLARD
Many of the oldest houses in deep downtown neighbourhoods such as Leslieville, Corktown and Lower Cabbagetown are surprisingly small by today’s standards, often set in narrow lots that probably wouldn’t be legal today. That’s because they were designed as affordable housing for workers flooding into the city as it expanded through the late-19th and early-20th centuries.
But as gentrification transforms these neighbourhoods, modifying these little houses for modern tastes — especially if you want to respect the streetscape — offers some challenges. Walk around the neighbourhood and you’ll see a range of solutions, with varying degrees of esthetic success: clapping on another storey with no sense of historic conformity; combining two semis into a single dwelling; or, most often, simply razing and starting over.
Architectural designer Julien Robillard’s solution for this attractive 1868 worker’s cottage in Lower Cabbagetown is notable for the fact that he actually nearly doubled the size, but took care to make it look sympathetic to the other cottages on the street and to preserve its pretty mid-Victorian facade. Much of the increased elbow room came from extending a large addition into the home’s deep lot. But the most interesting expansion is the full third storey, which is virtually invisible from the front, thanks to a cleverly pitched roof that disappears behind the top edge of the brick facade.
Robillard, originally from Montreal, has been designing and renovating houses since 2014. “My favourite thing to do is to take a house from a completely unrenovated state — where you have to go in wearing a mask because of the mould — and completely transform it,” he says. That was the case with this home, which Robillard and his partner have lived in for the last two years, following a twoyear renovation.
Originally a two-storey semi (with the detached side mere inches from its neighbour) on a 14-foot lot, it was in sorry shape when he bought it. But he could see it had possibilities, and the brick front facade was rich with period charm: an arched doorway, wellproportioned windows and a tiny fenced-in courtyard. In the end, the facade, foundation and part of one wall were all that were retained.
Some of the renovation involved restoring the grace that even modest Victorian homes offer, such as adding historically accurate two-over-two windows and, where needed, repairing the brick. “But I don’t believe in copying the past,” he says, opting for a minimalist plain, black steel door instead of a Victorian-style wooden replica.
Inside, what’s striking is how intelligently the space has been organized, and how open and spacious it feels. Finished in a relaxed palette of black, light woods and offwhite, used in different proportions from the basement to the top floor, there’s an appealing cohesiveness.
The front door opens directly into a dining area furnished with a black granitetopped table, and chairs designed by a hero of Robillard’s, the visionary 20thcentury Finnish architect Alvar Aalto, whose designs often incorporated house, furniture and finishes as a cohesive unit. A backdrop of vertical slats in black and natural oak enclose the staircase behind (which is oriented crosswise, adding visual width), casting sunlight down from skylights in the roof high above.
The way leads back past a black-painted central “stack,” containing a coat closet and a dramatic powder room, finished in black tile and featuring a sumptuous black-tinted concrete basin. Further down, past a hand-painted mural by Parisian artist and friend Hugo Caddous, the interior opens up completely to the light and view from glass doors that span the full width and height of the back wall. The doors slide back to one side, making the adjoining deck and garden a fully functioning part of the house all summer.
“The kitchen really is part of the main event of the house,” says Robillard. His partner is a skilled and enthusiastic chef, and the couple frequently entertain, he says. A wide granite peninsula with a four-inch apron defines the work area. With banks of oak-fronted cupboards that extend almost full length into the living area at the end of the room, and a fully fitted butler’s pantry tucked into the wall behind the kitchen, Robillard points out there was no need to put storage under the peninsula. Instead, supported on sturdy black steel legs, it became another opportunity to add width and light.
Upstairs, the windows in the front guest room are set low above the floor; Robillard explains it was the necessary result of raising the main floor ceiling of the old cottage, but it gives the room a lovely cozy feeling under the slanted eaves. There’s also another richly appointed main bathroom on this level, featuring an oak panelled wall and a supremely comfortable-looking, egg-shaped tub.
Robillard’s study takes up the back section of this level, with its floor-to-ceiling view of treetops and the city in the distance. Built-ins allow for plenty of storage and allowed him to keep furniture to a minimum. What he has placed in the room are personal favourites: an authentic ’60s Charles Eames office chair, spotted in a thrift store; army surplus filing cabinets, adding a pleasingly scruffy texture among all the slick surfaces.
The top-floor master suite is lit, like all the aboveground levels below, with its own full-size, rear window. There’s plenty of privacy when wanted by simply drawing the curtains, but the window overlooks a mature silver birch just beyond, carefully protected during construction, that gives you the feeling of being high up in a treehouse. The master is the most personal of the areas in the house, with a huge and comfortable ensuite (complete with its own mini-fridge, to save trekking down to the kitchen for a drink), and artifacts such as another Eames treasure: a picturesquely worn lounge chair and ottoman rescued from his grandmother’s basement, still serviceable and very comfortable, despite its cracked leather surface.
In the basement, part of the brick original foundation is still visible, and the low ceiling makes it easy to imagine what the house must have felt like 150 years ago. But it’s hardly gloomy: there’s another cozy guest room down here, and an enviable laundry room, big enough to do the ironing. It also has a separate door and steps up to the deck, allowing it to double as a mudroom and a place to bring in groceries from the car without tracking snow or mud into the house proper.
“What I like best about this house is the location; it’s a few minutes’ walk from my work, and I love the neighbourhood,” says Robillard. “It’s also great for entertaining; we have dinner parties just about every other week. You can serve cocktails in the lounge at the back, cook dinner, and then serve people in the dining room, where they can’t see all the clutter in the kitchen.
“And in summer, we open the glass doors and basically live back here on the deck and in the garden. It’s our little private oasis, right in the city.”