At 50 paces, an off-the-rack knockoff and an expensive, bespoke garment look the same. The differences become apparent up close, as you examine the stitching and rub the fabric between your fingers.
Architect Garth Norbraten's Leslieville house is like that, although even at 50 paces you can tell it's different from its neighbours — but not too different.
"It's very conservative," says Mr. Norbraten, 47, of the home's black-shingled street facade. "You move into these neighbourhoods because you like them — the funny jumble of houses — and I'm a little uncomfortable with things that are too different. … It was actually a bit of a challenge for me to try and reorganize the front of the building so that I was reasonably happy with it, but it still left the ghost of the old house, with the intention that people might walk by it a few times before they realize [it's been renovated]."
Guests to 50 Hastings Ave., however (and there are many as Mr. Norbraten and his partner, Greg Lichti, love to entertain) soon understand they're in for some bespoke architecture as they walk up the wide concrete steps, examine the glowing doorbell orb and enter the large, enclosed porch and then the expansive foyer with a view all the way to the back garden.
It's all in the tailoring, he says. While there's an "almost literal copy" of his design just up the street rendered in stucco and vinyl siding, Mr. Norbraten's exquisite home — a "crummy little house" from 1906 before he began his renovation four years ago — is outfitted with slim aluminum windows and beautiful, hand-painted, fibre-cement shingles. They were installed with the help of his partner and many other family members, including Mr. Norbraten's father, recently retired 75-year-old Regina architect Gerald Norbraten.
"I knew I could put shingles on the outside because, when I was 17, I put 95 bundles of cedar shingles on a house that my father did by a lake," he explains. In addition, the shingles help blend the home into the existing streetscape. A stark modernist box may get the attention of Dwell magazine, but it also would generate a little too much attention from neighbours.
Interior colours are the exception: Walls are turquoise and chartreuse, and a small powder room has glass tile in forest green, mint, ochre and turquoise. "I really like colour," says the 1984 University of Manitoba graduate. "Most 'modernists,' especially the U of T [and] Waterloo [graduates], like white, white, white, maybe dark brown. …I'm from an environment where it's really grey for a lot of the year."
Multiple display areas and maple shelves for the couple's large collection of ceramics add to the colour punch.
Even more striking are Mr. Norbraten's millwork and finishes. The open-concept, main-floor kitchen, dining and living areas (the living area at the back of the house is an addition) reveals Mr. Norbraten's mastery of made-to-measure architecture. Long, grey ceramic tiles in the foyer effortlessly co-ordinate with the rich, pinstriped engineered hardwood flooring; on the stairs to the second floor this same graphic flooring is tempered with a maple strip on each tread; hidden storage abounds in maple cabinetry throughout; in the kitchen, a cupboard opens to reveal a portal to a laundry chute, which comes in handy when the avid cyclists return home and peel off a few stinky layers. It also works for dirty dishtowels.
"I like to think of myself as being a good planner," he offers. "It's a small house so there are all sorts of expensive tricks to make it seem bigger."
The best trick is upstairs. In what would normally be a dark space dominated by a long hallway, the architect has added light-loving clerestories and reduced the hallway to a small box with multiple sliding doors. These sliders enable the couple to mete out how much of the master bedroom, private dressing area, bathroom and Mr. Norbraten's office (he works from home) is available to overnight guests.
"It's a little house with one toilet — you don't need two toilets — but you still like the idea of not having to meet your mother in the hallway in the middle of the night," he explains with a chuckle. "And, also, you don't want to have clients traipsing through your bedroom.
"It really works very well — Greg proudly calls it 'the bathroom complex.'"
Because this is a couture dwelling, paint colours and finishes on the second floor echo those on the first, and the cantilevered balcony that shades the living room is accessible from both the master bedroom and the home office.
Viewed from his beloved garden, the rear of the house is a "cubist composition that's the direct reflection of what's going on inside," he offers. "I don't like these big decorative strategies where things get done just for show. It is what it is, which is exactly like the backs of all the other houses along here; they're all these boxy shapes. The only difference is this is more tailored."
Indeed. And, like a finely crafted suit, the fit is impeccable. "You don't do this and then move out," he says.
