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Many people talk about building their dream house. Césan d'Ornellas Levine and her husband Mark Levine stumbled onto theirs.

The way the Levines keenly recount their fateful stop at a "for sale" sign on Kerrybrook Drive in old Richmond Hill about nine years ago, you might think the home had six bedrooms, travertine floors and an indoor pool.

In fact, it was a modest 1,700-square-foot, U-shaped bungalow with two bedrooms and a carport. Its flat roof was adorned with gargoyles, and the yard was overgrown with weeds, and overflowing with statues.

"It was radically different from all the other houses in the area," says Mr. Levine, a pediatric craniosacral and osteopathic therapist and son of an architect.

He and his wife, who is a visual artist, remember their jaws dropping.

"Not too many people would have had that reaction," he admits. "We could tell right away it was a Frank Lloyd Wright-influenced house."

Inside, the love affair continued. "When we came in, it was all bathed in natural light. … Within about 30 seconds, we said we'll take it. We didn't even ask the price," the Levines say, finishing each other's sentences. "Then reason prevailed and we asked how much.

"It was a lot for us."

What they didn't know was that it was also the childhood home of David and Royden Rabinowitch, two of the most distinguished Canadian sculptors of the 20th century.

Twin brothers, they began sculpting and painting in the basement and backyard at about 12 years old. They independently created many large conical sculptures that were placed in the yard, but have since been relocated to the National Gallery of Canada in Ottawa.

"That house and home is where everything happened — the initial major influences on my work," says Royden, an Officer of the Order of Canada who is currently completing the "Waterloo bell," a 10- by 10-foot steel sculpture for Waterloo's new city square.

The house, built in 1955 by their parents Ruthe and Joseph Rabinowitch (both now deceased), also played a key role, David says, in the creation of his first large body of work, Box Trough Assemblages, completed in 1963.

It wasn't until after Ms. d'Ornellas Levine returned to the home —"with butterflies in my stomach" — the next day that she learned of the home's artistic significance. Sitting on the original linoleum floor, she helped David go through 50 years of drawings, paintings and sculptures crammed into the house.

The ranch-style house has a calming effect, she says, noting that its architecture reflects Wright's Usonian principles in the way it's tucked into the property, and the interior is visually connected with the exterior.

"[The home was designed] in the spirit of Wright. It's not that it's slavishly copied," explains Harvey Cowan, one of the then-University of Toronto architecture students Ms. Rabinowitch hired to help bring her design to life. "It's its own modern thing."

Wall-to-wall windows stretch across the back, taking full advantage of the warm sun and serene view of the wooded conservation area to the south. The fieldstone wall at the front of the house was built by Ms. Rabinowitch's father, a mason, and her sons, who still fondly remember helping "granddad" retrieve stones from fields and river beds.

Mr. Cowan recently returned to the property after a chance encounter with Mr. Levine's father. "It was both a shock that the house was still there and pretty well intact, and that other people came along and fell in love with it. They're sort of looking after my baby."

With Douglas-fir beams traversing the whole length of the house inside and out, leaded windows with "hammered" glass by the front entrance, ox yokes-turned hallway handrails, original wooden mid-century kitchen and bathroom cabinetry, and a mod central staircase to the basement, the house has stood the test of time.

Not everything is original, however. Out of necessity, the carport was converted into a home office/clinic for Mr. Levine. The large second bedroom, once shared by the twin brothers, was subdivided for the Levines's two daughters. And the Douglas-fir beam spanning the front exterior was removed because it had rotted and was too costly to replace.

Sitting in the dining room beneath a stone bust sculpted by Ms. Rabinowitch, the Levines say that from the time they bought the house, they have felt it was their responsibility to make only changes the former owners would approve of.

So much so, they even put it in writing. When they submitted their purchase offer at about 15 per cent below the asking price, the Levines included a letter expressing how much they loved the house, that they would not tear it down, and always would welcome the Rabinowitches back to visit.

Another offer came in the same day at the full asking price. It was from people who were pretty open about wanting to build a monster home on the expansive 75-foot-wide lot, the Levines say. Their real estate agent was "floored" to learn they got the house, they add.

But thinking back to the day Ms. d'Ornellas Levine first helped him sort through his family's art, David says, "We had this lovely talk. She is an artist, you know, and … I said to myself, '… damn it, I want to sell the house to her.' … I was so impressed that there was a human being that somehow was relating to this unique thing. … I was thinking that my mom would really appreciate [her] living in the house."

To say the feelings are mutual is an understatement. "I kind of feel a sense of the lineage of the house," Ms. d'Ornellas Levine says. "I mean, this house has produced two of the most famous sculptors in the world."

Next month, the Levines will transform their home into an art gallery as part of the Richmond Hill Studio Tour. Perhaps not surprisingly, that's when Ms. d'Ornellas Levine thinks the house is at its best: full of art but otherwise empty.

"I think you can really tell good architecture when, completely empty of furniture, it still feels comfortable."

(The Richmond Hill Studio Tour runs Oct. 18-19. For more information, visit www.richmondhill.ca .)