Situated along the beautiful beaches of Walton County on Scenic Highway 30A, this bucolic hamlet is one of the “New Urbanist” developments from renowned town planners Duany Plater Zyberk. I visited last week and was stretching to remember when the now-dense town consisted of one lone carriage house (designed by our friend and future town architect, Richard Gibbs) surrounded by vast acres of native scrub. That was over 15 years and hundreds of houses ago. Today the development is a vibrant, bustling coastal village teeming with resort activity.
We’ve had the privilege of designing 15 homes in the Village, ranging from Gulf front estates to humble carriage houses. Providence even favored us with three commissions in a row along the town’s Eastern Green. Given the small lot configurations and strict design restrictions, each house was an exercise in problem solving. The main design challenge with these type homes is fitting 10 pounds of program efficiently in 5 pound bags. Market in resort areas dictates getting as much into as little as possible. That’s been part of the fun of it, I suppose. Solving the “needs” puzzle all the while coloring within the lines. Oh, and it has to be stunning to boot.
While the guidelines of Rosemary Beach are indeed strict, they do allow the architect to have diverse and creative stylistic interpretations. Therefore, all the homes we’ve designed here intentionally differ in appearance and feel. They’re like characters at a crowded shindig, each with a unique personality and something of value to add to the mix.
So, if you’re looking for a stylish, dynamic and beautiful vacation spot this Summer (or any time of the year), check out this casual beach party. You’ll be glad you came.
Summer has begun and many set their sails and steer to the nearest body of water. Our closest shoreline is Lake Martin, Alabama. Situated across three counties, Lake Martin is one of the largest man-made lakes in the country, boasting 750 miles of wooded shoreline. It’s been a home to recreational water bugs since its creation in the 1920s.
Our history with this lake goes back a few decades. In the mid-eighties, Bobby McAlpine spent his birthday week at a friend’s lake cabin relaxing, working on the odd furniture designs and just generally reflecting on his previous year. As Bobby jokingly put it, “I knew it was good day if I didn’t have to wear pants”. After a few years of these week-long sabbaticals hosted by his friend, he decided he was going to build his dream: his first from-the-ground-up house at the Lake. Being the decisive, ever-impatient soul, the timeline went something like this:
Day 1: Decides to build a lake house
Day 2: Drives to the lake. Stops at the first real estate trailer he comes to and inquires about available property. Is given loose directions to a property by a chain smoking secretary. Drives to said property. Makes immediate offer. Offer is accepted. Drives back to town.
Day 3: Designs house.
Day 4: Enlists office mates to help draw the plans.
Day 5: Finds builder, gives plans to builder for pricing.
Day 6: Builder comes back apologetically with a whopping price tag of $ 46,000.
Day 7: Construction begins.
Days 8 – 98: Fevered construction.
Day 99: Move in.
As ridiculous as this sounds, it literally happened that quickly. Mind you, this little treehouse of a cabin had no air conditioning, a single band of stock double hung windows (the lower sashes were walled over so the upper sashes seemingly lowered into the wall), an inexpensive cast iron stove from Lowes and a trap door entrance. The whole assembly was painted (appropriately) Lincoln Log green. His first personal house became our personal weekend playground.
Over the years, Bobby continued to tinker with his beloved creation. He enclosed the underside parking area to create a larger living room and kitchen and added an honest-to-god fireplace. An additional inventive window type was added: top-hinged, glass panels that were counterweighted by pulley-hung buckets of dense Alabama red clay. These opened up the entire lower floor to create a screened cricket cage. And over time, the wood-planked interior was dressed in many, many decorating schemes, lovingly becoming his weekend design laboratory in the woods. Like all first loves, it finally came to an end and he eventually parted with it, handing it over to the next eager steward. But also like first loves, its memories and lessons were never forgotten. Over a decade-and-a-half later, revisitation was in order. That, dear reader, is the story of next week’s post.
I wrote last week about a little lake cabin Bobby McAlpine built for himself which became his watery haven. After he sold it, the simple design continued to haunt his memory. This little wooden tender box held such great lessons and memories within, he couldn’t seem to shake its elemental echoes. A simple witness, it spoke as clearly as a boy’s first tree house.
An idea hit him one day. What would a small development of his beloved cabin be like? He envisioned a series of the same boxy hut, with slight variations on the theme. It would be the antithesis of most suburban neighborhoods where myriad shapes and styles clamor to be seen and heard. Recalling 1920s Boy Scout camps, a family of these cabins would live in quiet harmony, all in one voice. But would individuals buy into the idea that they were living in a house that basically looked like the one next door? The history of Lake Martin held that answer. Old one story wooden houses from the 30s (known locally as Russell Lands cabins) populated the shoreline. Hundreds of these long-term-rental shacks existed, lazily tucked in the woods, basically identical. A long-standing waiting list existed for these little humble treasures, evidence enough that a large group of similar quiet souls were out there.
Bobby’s thoughts on the new development (dubbed “The Camp”):
“People forget what makes them fall in love with the lake in the first place. They get a lake home, but they bring everything with them that they have in the suburbs. It becomes just another suburban lifestyle. What we’ve done is revisit an old idea — create a retreat setting with privacy, and beautiful views… The homes are similar — to the point where you can leave your ego at the door.”
“The Camp homes are built in such a way that their age cannot be tracked. We avoid telltale modern products or trends. In fact, the homes have no drywall, but are built completely from antique, old growth Canadian cedar.”
Property was secured in the Ridge development: ten scenic lots spanning over two waterfront points. Seven homes were eventually built – all found owners – five were decorated by Susan Ferrier of McAlpine Booth & Ferrier. Even though the new occupants of The Camp gave up a bit of their individuality in the development’s architectural continuity, each house (pictured below) is decorated in remarkably different styles. Happily, these woodland nests began to shelter eggs of varying colors.
We’re very excited to announce these cabins, grown-up versions of Bobby’s first, will be the subject of a new book, authored by Bobby and Susan Ferrier, and published by our old friends at Rizzoli. Like the lake, it will rise next spring.
Like Mom’s apple pie, the shingle style house is a unique American invention. Created here in the good old USA, houses of this ilk populate our every coastline, their lineage traced from charming sea shanties to sprawling mansions – a virtual family tree of tree-clad structures. Romantic by nature and beloved by many, this style’s architectural evolution was not a result of aesthetics, but of function – a combination of the abundance of the cedar tree and its intrinsic resistance to the tough sea environment. Cedar shingles provide excellent protection against the harsh salt air and this severe climate weathers them to their classic driftwood coloration. A defining characteristic of the classic Shingle style house is an unassuming nature; its seemingly haphazard spirit is made all the more charming clothed in scales of tree shards. Like a shaggy mutt, they’re friendly, quiet and seem to lie in the sun lolling the day away. That’s why houses of this type are perfect as a waterside retreat. Their demeanor welcomes tracked-in sand, wet towels and recklessly abandoned flip flops.
Whatever place you find yourself harbored this holiday, we wish you a happy and safe Fourth! Celebrate your precious freedom in style.
We are delighted to officially announce the upcoming release of our new book, Art of the House. Authored by Bobby and Susan Ferrier, this will be a follow-up to our best selling book,The Home Within Us(which is now in its 6th printing). This latest book focuses on five lush interiors from our popular Camp at the Ridge lake houses. Art of the House, published by our fine friends at Rizzoli Books, will be available at all fine booksellers in March of 2014.
Rizzoli’s catalog description:
Architect Bobby McAlpine and interior design partner Susan Ferrier share their poetic approach to creating beautiful interiors in this follow-up to the best-selling The Home Within Us. In their newest book, the famed design team discusses the principles that guide their extraordinary work and share ideas for creating atmospheric environments. The book profiles a selection of houses that resonate with the firm’s nuanced and sensual aesthetic. Combining painterly hues, diverse textures, and rich patinas, these interiors include a mix of antiques and contemporary furnishings. Throughout, we are shown the methods that these masters have honed to produce striking, inspiring spaces. In one featured residence, dark and light tones play off each other, with shimmering accents of silver, gold, and glass. Another house epitomizes the power of white’s purity to refresh the eye. The cool blue of water and shades of the forest floor make up the naturalistic palette of a third dwelling. In all, modern-day upholstered pieces combine with fine and rustic antiques to furnish rooms that are welcoming.
About the Author
Renowned architect Bobby McAlpine is the principal of McAlpine Tankersley Architecture. Noted interior designer Susan Ferrier is a partner of McAlpine Booth & Ferrier Interiors. They are included in the AD100 and Elle Decor’s A-list. McAlpine Home has handcrafted furniture lines with Lee Industries and MacRae Designs, and Susan Ferrier designs fabrics for Coleman Taylor Textiles. Susan Sully is an expert on Southern style. She has authored numerous books, including Houses with Charm, and is a contributing editor to Southern Living. Adrian Ferrier is a fine arts photographer.
As we did with The Home Within Us, autographed copies will be made available to our fans.
We hope you’ll enjoy our newly documented handiwork.
This is the first of a series of posts, titled “open house”, that I’m beginning on our blog – these will be photographic tours spotlighting selected projects.
My first offering is a second home we designed for a substantially sized family. The house is situated on a wooded river-front lot in Palmetto Bluff, a lovely development in the town of Bluffton, which is located in the low country of South Carolina. Since the house was to serve as a vacation gathering for large groups of family and friends, it was a programatic necessary to have an abundance of bedrooms and bathrooms (seven of each to be exact). A plan this copious certainly had the potential to result in an undesirable bloated structure.
In designing the house, we decided to whittle down the framework into a series of small camp-like buildings. These buildings would be peppered along the river bank and be connected by a series of screened porches. The kitchen, living and dining room would serve as the main lodge of this camp while the media room/bar, master suite, guest suites and children’s bunk room (playfully coined “the chicken house”) would become subservient river shacks. The interstitial porches lazily accommodate dining, gathering or sole repose. This was to be an architecture not of object, but of collection. As a result, the deconstructed design belies the scale of the program and maintains the humility desired for a sleepy environment; the visitor never quite sees the house in entirety – only glimpses are experienced. Finally, the entire wood-clad complex was bathed in shades of natural greens, thus completing the receding lake camp imagery. Over time, this familial house has become a muted witness, lolling in the humid Southern landscape, ever ready to open its arms to the oncoming troops.
The project architect for this house was Chris Tippett and was decorated by the talented eye and masterful hand of Tracy Hickman of Hickman Design Associates. A feature on this house previously appeared in Elegant Homes magazine.
Faithfully,
Greg Tankersley for McAlpine Tankersley
This is another entry in a series of posts titled “open house” in which we offer photographic tours of selected projects.
Nestled in a wooded lot on the shoreline of North Carolina’s Lake Norman lies a grand shingled house we completed almost 15 years ago. A sleepy beast of a house, it almost seems to rise up from a lazy nap to spy who might be trotting up the pier, ready to offer a drink or some shade. The shaggy, sun bleached shingles are freshened by the linen white windows and trim – an classic American combination.
The wooden tinderbox interiors (sheetrock was not invited to weekend here) were casually outfitted by McAlpine Booth and Ferrier. A humble alchemy of burlap,fruitwood, leather, worn tapestry and stone, the house lures the weary week-worn laborer with promise of leisurely restoration.
Faithfully,
Greg Tankersley for McAlpine Tankersley
Just over a week ago Greg Tankersley, Ray Booth and I returned from the Design Leadership Network Summit. Many great minds shared with us the latest and greatest in augmented reality, social media, as well as new ways to think about our businesses and how we live our lives in our chosen fields. All the possibilities were laid before us and I was sated with all the new information. Inspired to do more and be better at everything, as is always the case when I return from this highly social event, I felt “improved”.
Once home, however, instead of further research into all of the new ideas and directions that I now had on my “to do” list, I could not shake the overwhelming compulsion to dwell on what made the world look and feel better. With all of the new information that was shared with me I could not veer off my course to affect the world in a positive way visually.
Architects and Interior Designers are in the business of affecting the physical plane of our world by producing a scape that can be seen and touched – lived in and on. Integral to its success is the layering of texture, tones, and the reflection and refraction of shades of light and dark; depth and scale of shape in measured doses to elicit a calculated response. I would like to touch on the value and importance of beauty.
Neuro-associative conditioning applied to our discipline would claim that to gaze on beauty can improve our health and well being by directly addressing our own internal natures. Our sensual experiences have a physiological response by stilling our minds, calming our hearts and relieving stresses.
Great beauty has the power to relax and center our energy and emotions. Lowering our internal pressures free us to see more clearly and calmly. It is always a goal to create a meditative space that is restorative in nature, a space that you feel better in and are compelled to linger through.
All the images included are of second homes that McAlpine, Booth & Ferrier and McAlpine Tankersley have worked on. These are houses that purposefully were designed and appointed with the idea that a place thoughtfully addressed adds to the quality of the lives being lived there. Beauty can be a retreat for healing. Luxury is a tonic for the soul and we strive to create this elixir in all of our work. It is my heartfelt wish and goal to touch on our sensual natures. I am devoted wholly to its pursuit.
We’re very excited to announce our new book from Rizzoli publishers, Art of the House: Refections on Design, released last week. This new book focuses on five wooden cabins at Lake Martin, Alabama. The structures, part of the Camp at the Ridge, share basic architectural DNA but their interiors, all masterfully done by Susan Ferrier, are very different in style. Siblings all, but with their own distinct personalities.
I want to share how this particular book came about. One sunny morning at the lake, Bobby (who lived in one of the camp houses), noticed that the interior of his cabin held sunlight a certain way and that the accessories gathered took on an almost Dutch still life quality. Gilt objects, combined with rough firewood seemed to be made better by the other’s company. He contacted his dear friend and partner in his interior business, Susan Ferrier, and invited her and her husband, Adrian (himself, a part-time photographer with an equally keen eye), to spend the summer at the lake. As a summer camp “arts-and-crafts” project, they would assemble vignettes of artifacts and document them photographically. It wasn’t until after a few weekends of these sessions, that some type of book seemed to be forming.
Other friends assembled. Author Susan Sully and book designer Eric Mueller were brought to the lake lab to assist in raising this new literary child. Rizzoli, the premier publishing house who published our last book, The Home Within Us, was happy to take on this little pet project. In addition to these artful still lifes, the book also chronicles the cabins in full.
The results of this summertime craft project amongst friends is now polished, gilt-bound and available to share.
Faithfully,
Greg Tankersley for McAlpine Tankersley
” How often have I lain beneath rain on a strange roof, thinking of home.”
William Faulkner
Years ago, I was working with a client and the topic of roof material arose. I started talking about all the options appropriate for her new house and she exclaimed “Before this discussion, I don’t think I’ve ever even looked at a roof before!” I was shocked. I then realized most normal (read: non-designers) don’t notice these kinds of things. Roofs are more than just mere shelter, the material that covers them is an important selection in the architectural process. And in this world of a million choices, my job is often editor. Roof coverings come in a variety of materials; choosing the correct one is based almost entirely on the style of the house. Of course, budget is always a consideration, too. The following are roof materials we most often use and reasonings behind their selection. The materials are listed from least expensive to most:
Asphalt
As a rule, we don’t use a lot of asphalt shingles as we tend to lean toward more natural materials. This diamond shaped shingle, however, is a good economical solution for camp type structures like lake and mountain houses. And it beautifully recalls the WPA structures popular in National Parks.
Metal
Metal roofing, which is a sheet material, works well on beach houses and farm structures. We do a lot of rustic galvanized installations as the silver coloration ages well over time settling into a muted, gray tone.
Cedar
Cedar shingles are very versatile in terms of style. They work well on a humble English country house (emulating the look of more expensive thatch) and are equally at home on formal European inspired homes. Wood shingles come in two types – hand split (pictured above) and machine sawn. The machine sawn are better used on edgier, transitional houses. Cedar provides a splendid textural appearance and, given the two shingle types, can go from shaggy dog to clean and tailored.
Concrete
Lately, we’ve been using flat concrete shingles on a lot of coastal houses. If you coat the shingles in a colored elastomeric coating, it duplicates the appearance of the stunning stepped stone roofs found in Bermuda. Writer and photographer Lynn Nesmith (credited with the picture above) said the roof had a “very polite profile” silhouetted against the teal Gulf.
Slate
Slate shingles are the first rung on the economic ladder of a “permanent roof”. They are available in lovely natural colors ranging from dark gray to purplish green and come in varying thicknesses and exposures. With these color and texture ranges, they are best used on European-inspired and traditional American style houses. They also work equally well on contemporary structures.
Clay barrel tile
Newly manufactured clay tile roof shingles come in lots of shapes and colors but we rarely use these as they always look too monochromatic and just scream “beach condo.” We like to use reclaimed tiles as they already have years of age built in. It’s impossible to duplicate this patina with a new tile roof. The house pictured above has a roof that was salvaged from a demolished 1920s government building in California. There are a number of architectural salvage companies who specialize in obtaining these antique roofs. Any Mediterranean style home welcomes these shingles.
Thatch
Thatch has been used in Europe for centuries but is pretty uncommon stateside. We began using it a few years ago by importing craftsmen and material from Ireland. Due to our increased use, a few brilliant installers have immigrated to our shore and now work in the US. Its pastoral, romantic beauty cannot be duplicated by any available product. Thatch is perfect for all things English, tropical or anything exotic. As of this writing, it seems to be holding up well in a number of our domestic climates but does require maintenance as birds occasionally raid the reeds for their nests.
English clay tile
These small shingles from England are handmade – they literally have the maker’s handprint embedded on the backside. They come in a few colors but this “topsoil” colored shingle is our favorite. They are used mainly in Europe for restorations but are fabulous for new French and English houses. Incomparable in their field, they instantly age a newly built house. They also come complete with beautifully integrated ridge and hip caps.
After our meeting, my aforementioned client was well versed in the world of roof materials. I hope this inspires you to occasionally look up and behold what blankets the roofs over our heads.
Faithfully,
Greg Tankersley for McAlpine Tankersley
This is another entry in a series of posts titled “open house” in which we offer photographic tours of selected projects.
With the first hint of summer season in the air, our sails naturally lilt toward the call of the sea. Salt air tickles the senses and flashbacks of the annual sweaty, sandy visits of our childhood conjure remembrances of all things coastal. We’ve been honored with a number of commissions of beach sidled second homes. These are always fun projects; carefully constructed egos are left in town with the dress clothes and casual finds its way, not only on the body, but in the architecture.
This particular house, built in the bucolic town of Rosemary Beach, Florida is one of those dressed-down designs. Built by Benecki Homes and featuring slip-covered bleached-out interiors by the talented Melanie Turner, the house presents a fairly stoic face to the street. One enters the house, Charleston-style, through a solid gate and underneath the shade of an overhanging second floor loggia. The house immediately opens onto a courtyard, featuring a cooling dip pool and landscaped oasis. A good house is like a good person, you really don’t get to know their character until you are fully invited in.
I’ve never understood the trend to decorate beach houses in hot, bright colors. This house appropriately goes in the opposite direction. Once inside, the seemingly serendipitous interior is draped all in blanched white, like a summer house where sheets covering furniture have yet to be removed for the upcoming season. Touches of pale, pale blue recall the azure sky and gulf just outside. Cordially welcoming the unshod and un-showered, this family beach retreat seems to emotionally abate the heat and offers refreshing shelter to visiting vacationers.
Faithfully,
Greg Tankersley for McAlpine Tankersley
This is another entry in a series of posts titled “open house” in which we offer photographic tours of selected projects.
As Summer wanes, I’d like to open the door to one of our beach homes. This house, elegantly simple in its design, rests in the popular panhandle Florida town of Rosemary Beach. Founded in 1995, this seaside hamlet has become a popular destination for vacationers, escapists and design enthusiasts. Serving as a perfect backdrop, the Gulf’s pristine sugar-white beaches lovingly embrace the sun-drenched natural wood and stucco structures that pepper this planned community.
The plan of this three story house is deceptively simple: the first floor houses an entrance gallery and children’s berths, the second acts as a modern open loft and the master suite lies within the attic of the roof. The salon, comprised of living, dining and kitchen, is a design juggling act of archaic and modern. The soaring ceiling is beamed and planked in time-ravaged pecky cypress while the windows are treated more contemporarily – their vast expanse of glass recalls warehouse proportions. These mirror the natural environ – one need only look at the simple, calm horizon of the Gulf and the twisted craggy scrub of the landscape to find the basis of our inspiration. The interiors, masterfully orchestrated by Susan Ferrier, is a symphony of watery, deep jeweled tones.
If perhaps, you dream of a getaway such as this, you’re in luck - it’s for sale. Dream no more.
The following article, a design for a family weekend house at Lake Martin, Alabama, appeared in the September issue of House Beautiful magazine. We are reprinting it with their kind permission. As a bonus for our blog readers, I’ve included some of our original design drawings of the house. The article was written by Lisa Cregan and photographed by Francesco Lagnese.
Lisa Cregan: How do you create rooms that glow?
Susan Ferrier: Dark walls illuminate everything — even people. There’s no need to be timid with black! To experience the full beauty of light, I really think you need the presence of darkness. This house is on a peninsula with a cove on one side and a big lake on the other. Because the windows are the brightest things in the rooms, they catch your eye, and sparkling water seems to be everywhere. You’re totally in the landscape; you don’t shut the door and leave the lake behind.
For a new house, it feels spun from the past.
Natural wood darkens over the years, so these ebony-stained pine walls imply age; they give the house instant history. This place is meant to look like it might have already been here in the 1920s or ’30s — and that was my directive. The husband asked me to re-create the cabin from the movie On Golden Pond.
But this looks absolutely nothing like On Golden Pond.
That’s good! Because I rented the movie and thought, This couldn’t possibly be right. I mean, photos are thumbtacked to walls, and there’s almost no furniture. I knew my client didn’t want that. Then I realized he was talking about the emotion, not the exact aesthetic. He and his wife have six-year-old twins, and this is their weekend home. They want to grow into that movie, to create intimate family moments, and I love that idea. I’ve worked with this house’s architect, Bobby McAlpine, for 15 years, and we’re always less about decorating, more about capturing a mood.
Is that why you chose such a dreamy, misty palette?
The colors are purposely atmospheric — faded, foggy tones with only small pops of white to add crisp outlines. The little bit of white in the lampshades and curtains stands at attention here and keeps things percolating.
Weren’t you at all tempted to add a primary color?
No way. I think colors should blend, not jolt you awake; I never want to add anything bright. Stark contrast would have taken the power out of these muted, washed-out shades of green and blue. A color like orange, for example, would look synthetic, unrelated to what’s natural here — the way the mossy green of the living room screen picks up the undergrowth beneath the trees, and the way the grays feel like an extension of the fieldstone walls. The blues even have a little bit of a green undertone, like lichen on a stone.
I love that there are so many places to gather.
I thought a lot about that. The coffee table in the living room lifts up and down, so it can be used for games and puzzles. I never think a low, square coffee table engages the center of a room enough — this clover shape gives people a reason to congregate. This house was designed for family interaction. Fabrics are mostly carefree linens, and the living room furniture is straightforward, not overembellished, so it’s inviting. There’s a wonderful screened dining porch and even a bunk room for the children and their friends. It’s all very low-key.
With the possible exception of these outrageous oversize chandeliers in the living room and dining porch.
I’m all about generous gestures. These are 12-foot-high ceilings, and if you have the space, you should fill it! Spread out and relax. Don’t punctuate a big wall with a small painting — that feels so stingy. And a tall ceiling with a tiny light fixture is like a fly in the room. I want to take a swat at it.
If an all-white kitchen had a polar opposite, this would be it.
We thought it would be nice to make the kitchen cozy and dark to encourage quiet conversation. It has a lower ceiling than the rest of the house, and that makes it feel even darker, which I like. The wife’s parents have a home nearby, so we designed the room with visiting family and friends in mind. The dining chairs and counter ottomans are the same height to be interchangeable, and you look up from them to the working island and out to the lake. It all flows up. This kitchen shows how I feel about dark spaces — if the room is dark, go darker. Just go with it.
You lightened up for the guest bedroom, though.
I like to use all the colors in my palette in the heart of the home, then edit, using some of those hues as I work out from the center. The guest room is where blue landed, but it’s a greenish gray-blue, much cooler than navy. And the brown isn’t a chocolate, it’s more gray. There’s not much contrast, so it’s peaceful.
Do you think there’s something primal that draws people to live on the water?
I think what people enjoy most is the boundary — the place where land and water meet. You can say you love the water, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you want to live on a boat, right? There’s a romance to being on the shore and looking out at the water, being close but observing it from the warmth and darkness of the earth. That’s what this house is all about. When I have clients who say they don’t want dark walls, I bring them here. And they always say this is exactly what they want.
The following is a recent interview with Bobby McAlpine and Susan Ferrier written by nationally syndicated columnist Marni Jameson. It is reprinted here with her kind permission.
This never happens to me.
“I noticed the light would move through the space, selectively choose objects and illuminate them to the point of bursting,” he told me, describing the moment he knew he was onto a new book. “It was very choosy. Everything got its turn at being precious and focused upon.”
How many of us, and my hand is up, would have rolled over that morning, pulled a pillow over our heads, and said, “Who opened the blinds, dagnabbit?”
Not McAlpine, which is why we have “Art of the House: Reflections on Design” (Rizzoli 2014), which McAlpine wrote with his longtime business partner, interior designer Susan Ferrier.
Ferrier is McAlpine’s grounding force. “If we were elements, Bobby would be air, and I would be earth,” she said. “We meet in the middle.”
That middle ground includes home interiors that, like their complimentary partnership, are full of contradictions: gilded frames in wooden barns, straw with gemstones, old bones alongside polished crystal.
“So it’s like gourmet décor?” I said, trying to put a tidy title on the essence of their work.
“I’m sorry?” McAlpine said.
“When I was a kid, I used to define gourmet as a bunch of foods that don’t go together, like your designs,” I said, then stammered. “I mean, but they do.”
“We try to lift items that need elevating and quiet those that need bringing down,” he said. In the case of gilded items against stacks of firewood, “the gilt elevates the wood, which dims the glamour of the gold.”
McAlpine calls this dynamic “gilt by association.” Then, remembering whom he was dealing with, added: “Imagine ‘Gilligan’s Island’ without Ginger.”
After McAlpine saw the metaphoric light, the book, which features McAlpine’s home on Lake Martin in Alabama among other lake houses, tumbled out almost by accident.
“My lake house is made up of all the furniture I got for clients that never sold and from the contents of an antique store I had that I closed,” McAlpine said.
“I ended up with a lot of gilded furniture, things a little too refined for a rustic environment. But when combined with walls of firewood and unfinished material, they all just loved each other,” he added.
Which just proves that, in the right hands, magic happens, or as Ferrier said, things “become beautiful in each other’s company.”
“It’s like friends and family,” McAlpine said. “We balance each other out, and we are all better because of one another.”
Well, sometimes.
Hoping to tap into their vision and knack for creating refined, yet humble, homes, I asked them to share some of their reflections:
Be contradictory: Think to the far left and far right in your furnishings, McAlpine said. Don’t stay in the middle. Don’t worry about whether items match or make sense. Put the finest pieces with the most rustic. They forgive one another.
Be reflective: Every room needs at least one object that reflects light, something gilded or crystal, a mirror or a glass object, up against something soft or textured that takes light in. But go easy, Ferrier said. “Control your glamour so you don’t get too slick.”
Be original: All of us are a little guilty of treating houses like doll houses, McAlpine said. “We tend to build rooms we were taught to want.” Home is where above all you are who you are. When you mimic your own self and the contradictions that are you, you create an environment that is the only place in the whole world like that.
Be yourself: “I wish more people knew that people like them the way they are,” McAlpine said. Company will only feel comfortable in a home that reflects you. If you have raided Restoration Hardware, that won’t be authentic. But if your home is a kooky mix of things that are pertinent to you, it will feel genuine.
Be fresh: Once home decorators have everything just like they want it, often they don’t move anything, and the space grows stale. “You have to handle and move, touch and rotate. Put objects away or in a different room. Give everything a turn.”
Be open to letting go: None of us is the same person we were five years ago. A continual edit of our home’s contents is important, McAlpine said. “Don’t grow a calloused eye over all of it. This requires retiring a bit of sentimentality, letting go, and keeping only what is really important and pertinent to who you are now and who you are headed toward being. Otherwise, it will hold you down and drag you back.”
Be considerate: A welcoming home is all about consideration, he said. It is not about having all the right props. “What matters is not that you had the perfect side table, but that you thought that someone would need a place to put a drink, even if that means you turned a bucket upside down.”
Columnist Marni Jameson is the author of “House of Havoc” and “The House Always Wins” (Da Capo Press). Contact her through www.marnijameson.com.
The following article, a design for a weekend house at Lake Martin, Alabama, appeared in the October issue of Traditional Home magazine. And not just any issue but their 25th Silver Anniversary issue! We are reprinting it with their kind permission. As a bonus for our blog readers, I’ve included some of our original design drawings of the house. The article was written by Eleanor Lynn Nesmith and photographed by Emily Jenkins Followill. David Baker was the project architect.
Preliminary sketches of a house are often only vague concepts. Yet sometimes a simple diagram can instantly strike the perfect chord—even when the final outcome is a long time coming. More than a decade ago, architect Bobby McAlpine penned one such drawing while standing with Walter Russell on a magnificent piece of property in Alabama, overlooking Lake Martin.
“The key to designing a successful lake house is to create a silent witness to the greater environment,” says McAlpine, who admits falling under the charm of Lake Martin himself. Since founding his firm in nearby Montgomery in 1983, he has designed scores of houses there. “You need to be quiet and take in what is around you,” he adds, “and always remember why you are here.”
Walter Russell surely does. In 2002, before Walter had even heard of McAlpine, much less thought about commissioning him, they shared a love of Lake Martin. Walter had recently purchased property and spent weekends camping out, clearing the landscape, and imagining the home he would one day build there.
When Walter, who owns a lumber company, learned an architect was designing 10 Shingle-style homes nearby, he saw it as a business opportunity. Their first meeting at McAlpine’s office bordered on a sales call, but the subject of wood was not a mere commodity to the two of them. It was a unique personal connection. McAlpine’s father was a lumberman in rural Alabama, and he credits memories at the mill as powerful influences on his architecture.
The two men reviewed the plans and agreed to incorporate Walter’s products. A professional association was forged. A few months later, they met with a different agenda. This time it was along the lake to design Walter’s own home. “Bobby asked lots of questions and told me he wanted to get into my heart and soul, so the house would be all about ‘me,’ ” Walter recalls. “As we walked the land and talked, Bobby started drawing and quickly came up with plans and elevations.”
The peninsula property oversaw big water and two bays. “With this type of land, it’s possible for every room in the house to have views of the water,” McAlpine says. “That was my goal.”
The architecture is incredibly site-specific as it rambles along the shoreline. The house nods to the romantic notions of the Shingle style, with its familiar forms and gracious proportions, yet this structure enjoys a commanding stature and sense of permanence.
“This home acknowledges its owner, a gracious Southern lumberman,” McAlpine says. “The design draws elegance from devices not typically found in residential architecture. There are elements of a chapel in the woods, rural schoolhouses, and old factory offices. It even has its feed-and-seed-store moments.”
With sincere apologies to Mom and apple pie, I think nothing is more American than a good old lake house. Scores of bucolic lakes pepper the landscape of this great country so once the pilgrims figured out how to survive (thanks Native Americans), the next step in American evolution was kicking it back lakeside. We dragged along with us tents and then erected meager huts, simple places to shelter us from the rain so we could stare out at the calm view, mouths agape, allowing the water to wash our minds clean.
The lake house is a particular mutt. Part house, part shack and part camp, its lazy frame is typically clad in humble garments – close-at-hand wood and stone. Pomp and pride are left back in town – a good lake house has no point to prove, no lecture to make, no insistent demands – it only offers quiet interlude. From pioneer days to high-tech days, we Americans have always toiled hard. Every chance we get, we drag our weary bones to the water’s edge to drink rejuvenation. A tireless Ponce De Leon searched high and low for the legendary Fountain of Youth. Look around. It’s probably not far from your doorstep.
The 30A corridor of Florida’s panhandle is hot. No, not just because it’s July on the Gulf Coast. It’s because this area’s beach real estate market continues to set new design standards. It began with the picturesque ‘New Urban Development” of Seaside in the mid 1980s. Rosemary Beach quickly followed on those innovative urban planning coattails and now, Alys beach is set to be the new standard (we have four houses currently on the boards in Alys Beach alone.)
A few years ago, we designed a small development on the South side of 30 Right next door to Rosemary Beach. We named it “Quattuor”. It consists of four identical four bedroom houses, each with a pool, cabana and 2 car garage. The concept was the whole was more powerful than the individual – a quartet singing in unison sounds better than four people singing different songs. It’s perfect for a family compound or four inseparable families. The development is currently available for sale complete with a development order in place. Also, the development order is grandfathered in which allows this site more lenience than is normally available to projects in this area.
If you’re interested in this special development, contact Keith Flippo at the PPG Group at Keith Flippo at keith@theppg.net for details. You can view the complete sales listing here.
This is another entry in a series of posts titled “open house” in which we offer photographic tours of selected projects.
There seems to be an innate relationship between man and earth. Observe any given little boy digging in the dirt with a stick and that unspoken affair is evident. Alas, a number of these boys grow up, get educated, polished and thrust into concrete jungles to begin their industrious climbs. After a while, some of these successful businessmen grow a stirring in their soul and they soon begin to hear the loamy call of the soil.
This property is a built result of one of those yearns. Situated on beautiful acreage twenty minutes outside of Nashville, Tennessee, this “gentleman’s farm” (a recent term for places where this man/earth phenomenon is unmistakably on display) consists of two agrarian inspired buildings. One is a large working barn, the other a pond-sideled guest house. Both were furnished in the best of rural-chic.
The boy may have matured over time but the heart-tug of the land is never forgotten. Sticks have been replaced by horses, tractors and boutique crops. What a beautiful luxury to have a place for weekend adult dirt-play!
By the way, this particular one is currently on the market. You’ll find the listing here. BYOB (bring your own boots).
The following article, A Gulf front home in the elegant Florida development Alys Beach, appeared in the June/July issue of Veranda magazine. We are reprinting it with their kind permission. The article was written by Mimi Reed and photographed by Erica George Dines.
A collaboration between two strong talents is always a tricky dance. But architect Bobby McAlpine and decorator Susan Ferrier are like the Astaire and Rogers of the design world. As old pros who have worked together time and again, they make it look as blithe as can be.
Consider this beachfront manse they concocted at Alys Beach on the Florida panhandle—a white stucco getaway for a Birmingham family of six who gave them free rein. From the start, McAlpine knew that Ferrier was dreaming of a sumptuous interior with an exotic charge. Instead of competing with that vision, he created the perfect foil: a glamorous box, as coolly elegant as it is austere.
“It’s handsome but unfussy and under-embellished by intention,” McAlpine says. Architect Greg Tankersley adds, “It’s like a geode—plain on the outside, but when you break it open, it’s filled with all of Susan’s glittering treasures.”
The house’s crisp North African geometries fit in well with the rest of Alys Beach, the stunning resort town launched by the architecture firm Duany Plater-Zyberk in the early 2000s and still under construction. Its buildings are white by fiat. Their uncomplicated volumes of masonry and stucco are massed in a sculptural fashion, and the overarching design theme is a Bermudian-Moroccan pastiche that seems uncannily at home on the palm-studded Gulf of Mexico.
For the interior, the architects took their cues from 1930s Parisian department stores, designing loft-like rooms with reedy cast-iron columns, marble floors, and elaborate ceilings. In Ferrier’s hands, however, even hard surfaces like these are made to feel soft and warm. Her palette might as well be fog and starlight. She brought in banks of gauzy drapery and furniture with expressive curves. She laid fluffy white goatskin rugs on top of the mosaic marble floors and filled the rooms with muted metallic accents that flicker at night like candlelight.
“The mixing of silver and gold is the mantra in this house,” says Ferrier, who always wears silver and gold bracelets together, a trick she picked up from her Italian grandmother. “I’ve limited the color but amped up the reflectivity.”
Floating like a boat in the middle of the living room is a curvaceous whitewashed chaise with gilded paw feet. “I feel like that chaise is going to take you directly down the Nile,” she says with a laugh. Each piece turns up the volume on romance—the sinuous chesterfield sofa upholstered in smoky velvet, the mirrored coffee table, and the silvery-gold architectural fragment displayed like art.
The master bedroom is ensconced on the third floor, where beachy views abound. Ferrier furnished it with an iron bed that manages to be monumental, delicate, modern, and antique-looking all at once; she draped it in Prussian blue linen, and why not? Those who lie in it look directly out to sea.
From the spa-like master bath to the TV room with its roiling blue seascape, the message seems clear: Lounging with sparkle and style is this house’s raison d’être. Asked how she would use the slouchy-chic loggia, where a bronze Moroccan lantern throws off pinpoints of light as the nearby surf pounds rhythmically, Ferrier answers, “For cocktails or naps. I mean, wouldn’t you?”
If you’re not familiar with Rosemary Beach, Florida, I wholeheartedly recommend a road trip.
