THE BEST BLEND

Diverse interior styles percolate happily and easily in this 1910 charmer of a house in Dunedin

An English-style country garden, pretty with standard ‘Margaret Merril’ roses, foxgloves, snowdrops and bay laurels underplanted with violets, frames the front door of this Edwardian villa owned by Fraser Goldsmith and Sally McMillan and named Livingston after the original owner.

When Sally McMillan first came to view this Edwardian villa, her husband, Fraser Goldsmith, was up a Swiss mountain. They’d been looking for a large house with a small garden within easy reach of the city where they both work as lawyers. This one in Dunedin’s St Clair came in with the right balance, a great location and also colonial charm that even an eyes-wide-open attorney could not resist. “I’m hopelessly enamoured of character – people, dogs, cars, houses….” says Sally.

Still, she felt the weight of responsibility choosing a home for them both. She emailed Fraser photos in the middle of the night and began to examine the case from all angles. Would it be expensive to run and renovate? Could Fraser see past the kaleidoscopic decor to a calmer, brighter future? He could. “It’s perfect,” he said on his return. Case closed.

Of course, that’s not quite right. It was just the beginning. Turning the five-bedroom, three-bay house into a personalised expression of home has taken 10 years.

Built in 1910 for a Mr Livingston, the house had wonderful symmetry, gracious proportions and features typical of its time – rimu floors and kauri doors and windows, decorative plaster cornices and, just for good measure, a romantic turret. That all sounds very grand and dreamy, but Fraser gives a more prosaic view: “It was old, cold and damp with seven fireplaces but no insulation. And the floors bounced.” The couple installed underfloor insulation and central heating before they moved in.

Living within its history and learning to appreciate its quirks was good training; in renovating, they did not aim for perfection: “We just tried to get it on the right side of rumpty,” says Sally.

‘I’m hopelessly enamoured of character’

Fortunately, the structural integrity had not been damaged too greatly in 100 years. They replaced a couple of ceilings, jacked up some saggy bits, the children chose feature wall colours for their bedrooms and some of the previous carrot-orange and Karitane yellow paintwork that “felt like a bad drug experience” was relegated to the past.

Tackling the kitchen and dining zone was the biggest challenge, and one they left until a few years down the track. “As the most internal room in the house, it needed more light,” says Fraser. It was also compromised by a corridor that took up valuable space, the bench was cramped, the storage paltry and the joinery in lavender blue was superseded in colour confidence only by the floor that had been stained dark blue.

The pair wanted a space large enough for two people to work together and it seemed obvious that the dining and kitchen areas should be swapped. As soon as their builder Rod Lind said it would only take a length of PVC piping to change the plumbing, the possibilities opened up.

Safe to say, those possibilities have been exploited beautifully. The island, clad in tongueand-groove, is so large it has been renamed “the continent”, a newly installed skylight allows a collection of Crown Lynn, Temuka and other random but ruthlessly colour-coordinated crockery – stored on open shelving and used every day – to shine, and George Nelson saucer pendants provide ambient lighting and a midcentury twist.

While the architecture is traditional, the interior aesthetic of the home is hard to define. It blends English country style with modernist moments, shades of Kiwi retro and a dash of luxe. The most remarkable thing about this is that when these two became one, every piece of furniture and all the accessories, brought from

insignificant crate. “They’ve only just started talking to us again,” grimaces Sally.

Behind every skerrick of furniture and art there is an anecdote. The grandfather clock inherited from Fraser’s grandparents, the green Twyford basin found on Trade Me and brought to Dunedin with Koru Club privileges, or the Anna W Reid dry-point etching of the Otago Harbour that reminds Fraser of the view from the house he sold to move here.

Now that the children have grown up and are only occasionally in residence, the home embraces two boisterous fur babies (Jack, the beardie/border collie cross and Fred, a wire

Q&A

Biggest renovation disaster: When we painted the kitchen floor black; the minute you moved a chair, the paintwork scratched. To make it worse the painter had used a white primer underneath. Fortunately, when we stripped the floor the black paint had filled up the borer holes and we liked the look. It also tells a story of 110 years of change. (Fraser)

Best money spent: The kitchen. The rebuild was a major, involving microwaving meals on the deck throughout a Dunedin winter, but the result is worth it. (Fraser)

Advice for others renovating a character house: Be patient, let the ideas evolve to fit the way you live. Don’t mess with the architectural integrity... and avoid aluminium joinery! (Sally)

Future plans: Building Sally’s “sort-of Sex and the City” wardrobe. The ensuite required removal of a massive brick chimney so the street view is no longer balanced and needs a faux chimney replacement. Some of the Welsh slate is only held in place by century-old lichen and we are saving up for a wrought iron Edwardian-style front fence. (Fraser)

What we’ve learned about gardening: Turns out that a small-but-perfectly-formed garden is just as much work as a large rambling one. (Sally)

Fraser Goldsmith and Sally McMillan

haired fox “terrorist”) and frequent guests. First timers arrive via a garden of pure prettiness, where rugosa roses froth over the fence, wisteria and lavender are fragrant on the air and topiary bay laurels stand on ceremony.

Once inside, the nostalgia continues: Coronation Street’s gritty but beloved Hilda Ogden is the welcome party in the entrance hall – a glitter portrait that Sally won in a furious bidding war at a charity auction. There’s a canny glint in her eye. It’s as if the soap opera stalwart has seen the comings and goings of a century – days when the first lady of the house climbed the turret to seek out ships on the harbour, moving past the dramas of famous parties hosted by a once-resident international cricketer and on to the latest curated, creative transformation. Hilda still has a leading role to play in this capsule of everyday life – and boy does she have a story to tell.

|

THESE PAGES |

THIS PAGE Hilda by Stanley Manthyng provides a glittering welcome in the front hallway where pops of pink are also seen in the antique cane chair and a Designers Guild wallpaper: “Only after I ordered the paper, did I discover that it was an original Edwardian design, re-coloured by Tricia Guild – perfect for this house,” says Sally. OPPOSITE (from top) Sally McMillan and Fraser Goldsmith with Sally’s sons Charles, at left, and Patrick, who are occasional residents, and dogs Jack and Fred. A junk shop plaster-framed mirror hangs above an antique Chinese hall table where a Buddha, found in a bargain bin at The Warehouse, reposes in floral splendour: “Only cerise, purple and cream roses are permitted in the front garden at Livingston, so as to match the wallpaper,” says Sally.

THESE PAGES Fraser’s Yamaha grand piano has prime position in the bay window and a re-covered Parker Knoll chair from his parents sits alongside one from a local second-hand store; the mid-century Italian light was bought in Melbourne and rewired; the shade on the floor lamp was custom-made as a gift to Fraser from Sally and features the music to one of his favourite pieces of music, Fields of Gold; Above Matauri by Stanley Palmer hangs above a mid-century sideboard which Sally found in a Salvation Army store in Gore: “The shop assistants couldn’t believe I’d pay $120 for it, let alone extra to ship it to Dunedin.”

|

THIS PAGE The gallery hallway includes a work, at left, by local artist Anita DeSoto and Black Rainbow at Matauri Bay by Ralph Hotere, above the kauri sideboard, which marks the scuttling of the Rainbow Warrior near the Cavalli Islands; Fraser bought most of the Oriental rugs throughout the home, each one with a story of lengthy purchase negotiations laced with apple tea and good humour. OPPOSITE (from top) Part of Sally’s treasured Crown Lynn collection sits on the mantelpiece beneath Anna W Reid’s Blueskin Bay; to the right is Marilynn Webb’s Going Through Fiordland. The dining area is defined by Orla Kiely’s Giant Rhododendron wallpaper; art includes Ralph Hotere’s Daisies Falling, a piece Sally bought when the land on which the artist’s studio stood was being excavated to make way for Port Otago extensions; the George Nelson pendants are from Homage in Auckland.

|

separate houses, slid seamlessly into place. Somehow, when Fraser’s grand piano, Persian rugs and camphorwood chests met Sally’s colonial cane chairs, 1950s loungers and rolls of Cath Kidston wallpaper, it was a natural pairing. This eclectic yet cohesive assemblage was a starting point; together they have built up a new layer of history. “We pick up pieces that take our eye – wherever they may be – on an ongoing basis,” says Fraser. This can involve inveigling friends to return from overseas trips with items in their extra luggage allowance – such as the 1940s Italian chandelier with eight globes that hangs in the living room near the piano. It came over from Melbourne as one piece in a not

THIS PAGE (clockwise from top) More of Sally’s Crown Lynn blends with other crockery, all of which is in everyday use. In the stairwell that leads to the turret is a sampler attempted by Sally and which she paid someone to finish. In the TV room a $20 wooden chair was reupholstered in a $10 remnant when animal prints were fashionable; the artwork is a linocut by the couple’s friend Helen Darling. OPPOSITE Sally and Fraser worked with builder Rod Lind and The Kitchen Studio to design the kitchen; the black glass appliances are all by Electrolux; part of Sally’s vintage glass compote and jug collection, mostly from Flotsam & Jetsam in Auckland, is displayed on the end of the island bench.

|

THIS PAGE (clockwise from below) Sally was gifted the Cath Kidston wallpaper, now in the ensuite, 30 years ago while living in the UK; the basin is from Trade Me and to the left is a collection of fibreglass planes made by Michele Bryant, one for every country Fraser and Sally have travelled to. Another glitter work by Stanley Manthyng, Tina, was a gift for Sally’s 50th birthday and hangs in a guest bedroom; Going Down by Euan Macleod hangs on the far wall. An old kauri chest sits in the main bathroom beneath an artwork by Timothy Chapman and glassware salvaged from Sally’s father’s laboratory. OPPOSITE (from top) The main bedroom has bedside cabinets from Harrowset Hall hand-painted by local company Sims & Blue to match the lacquered bed base. A Marilynn Webb pastel hangs above the bed in a spare room.

|

|

THIS PAGE Rugosa roses tumble over the picket fence while Fraser’s 1974 Goddess, one of the family’s Citroen collection, looks handsome on the street. OPPOSITE (from top) Fred demonstrates the excellent indoor-outdoor flow, while the more laid-back Jack guards the house; the outdoor table and chairs are from Early Settler and the lichen-covered terracotta herb pots have graced the outdoor living area of every house Sally has owned. The garden shed had to be built around the 4.5m-long antique kauri shop storage unit.