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An inconspicuous street sign and a path just wide enough for a minivan mark the blink-and-you'll-miss-it Leonard Place laneway just outside the Kensington Market area.

Earlier this month, more than 130 house hunters wound their way through Kensington's maze of streets and alleys in search of 5 Leonard Place. The laneway home, listed for $889,000, sold for $980,000 after just five days on the market.

The new owners didn't just buy any home. They bought Toronto's first laneway house — a distinctive piece of Toronto's urban landscape.

The home was designed by the late Jeffrey Stinson — a University of Toronto architecture professor and advocate for laneway housing — and built with the help of his sons in 1989.

The architect, who died earlier this year, was known for his playful exploration and display of the mechanics and structural elements of a building, says long-time friend and real estate agent Michael Tar.

"He didn't want to hide things. He wanted to see the mechanics of things," Mr. Tar explains. "It's a part of the house. He used to say, 'why hide it?'"

The elegant but imposing house is flanked by two overhanging trees in what is initially a jarring juxtaposition of contemporary urban design and natural elements. An example of the architect's playful side is the home's delightful combination of industrial and whimsical elements.

A basement shower made entirely of copper right down to the soap dish. A third-floor staircase reminiscent of Lego blocks protruding from the wall.

An angular white fireplace and chimney jutting out into the open-concept living room.

Those are just a handful of the imaginative qualities that characterize the 2,200-square-foot home.

The south wall, facing the laneway, consists of floor-to-ceiling windows right up to the domed, galvanized metal roof, which is like one you might see on a military mess hall.

A curved, white concrete wall encloses a small garden, fishpond and courtyard on the home's right side, and a two-car garage is built into the other side.

The front porch — with a grated floor that's designed to improve snow drainage and allow light to flow into the home's basement — leads into an open-concept kitchen, dining room and living room with a built-in reading nook and a glass disc table that appears to be supported by only a coil of chicken wire.

Even the furnace on the first floor plays a dual role — one side is exposed in the kitchen and serves as a magnetic board for reminder notes.

Downstairs is a large studio with a checkerboard floor, the bathroom with the copper shower, an indoor garden that takes advantage of the light from the grated porch floor above, and a laundry room flooded by natural light.

The home's second floor is U-shaped and overlooks the first floor, wrapping around to the front of the house with a bedroom on one side and a bathroom on the other. The bathroom with a circular tub features a steel-grille floor full of potted plants. "It feels like you're outside, doesn't it?" Mr. Tar says. There's another garden in the bedroom.

The second floor also holds the master bedroom with an ensuite bathroom and another protruding fireplace. The area is currently being used as a separate apartment.

The Lego-block staircase leads to a third-floor loft space with balconies on either side. It also is U-shaped but is the reverse of that on the second floor. There is a view of the other floors through the open centre, which also allows light to flood the entire house.

But according to Mr. Tar, the home doesn't have to stay that way.

"[Mr. Stinson's] house is completely modular. You could add floors if you wanted to. The beams and structure stand on their own. Floors and walls that would normally be integral to a house in this [one] can be removed or added to," he says. It was divided into its current configuration — a house with a separate apartment — by just adding a dividing wall on the second floor.

Along with spaces designed specifically for gardens throughout the house, Mr. Stinson's environmental sensibilities resonate through the home right down to its foundation.

The home is built primarily of concrete, MDF (medium-density fibreboard) and a vaulted, galvanized metal dome roof, Mr. Tar says.

"There's not a drop of drywall in here," he notes, adding that Mr. Stinson chose common, off-the-shelf materials, making sure they were both inexpensive and functional.

The floor-to-ceiling glass windows that make up the home's entire south wall offer "passive solar heating," allowing light to pour through the windows during the day, Mr. Tar says.

Even the scenery on the laneway — the backs of a row of blue, brown, red and orange houses — seems to complement the home's playful urban design.

Larry Richards, former dean of architecture at U of T and a long-time colleague of Mr. Stinson's, describes the house as "optimistic."

"The vocabulary is industrial. Usually people think industrial is harsh and cold. It's a very warm-feeling place, with the flood of light and the plants. It's surprising because it's built sort of like an airplane hangar," he says.

He adds that Mr. Stinson's visceral nature and his attention to the physicality of places and materials influenced the design.

And according to Mr. Richards, the house plays a ground-breaking role in Toronto's architectural history. "It was the house that really started this 20-year discussion about laneway housing in Toronto."

Donald Chong, a Toronto-based architect and co-editor of the book Site Unseen: Laneway Architecture and Urbanism in Toronto, agrees.

"It will be on the map of important Toronto urban homes just because it understood some conditions of the city," he says.

"It was one of the earliest projects that I can see where there was a true endeavour architecturally to make something new. It was something that popped up where nothing really should have. The elegance of its utility almost works for itself."

And it's the home's utility working with its surroundings that gives the house an expressive, playful personality, Mr. Chong adds. "It's not about the mood. It's not about any kind of architectural flair. It lets the qualities of light and air and volume really come to the fore in that house."

But is part of its charm its understated, hidden existence? And is that charm lost as the debate surrounding laneway housing brings homes like these into the spotlight?

Mr. Chong isn't sure. Mr. Stinson's home "just kind of quietly happened," he says.

"The moment we make a book of it, did we kill its sensibility?"

In his love of all things exposed and interactive, Mr. Stinson probably would not have minded.