Some days as I stand here suspended over the woods below gazing out from my bird’s-eye view, I try to transport myself to the time before this house existed when it was just a dream longing to be perched on what seemed to be a hopeless hill. As I run my hands across the yellowed pages of the original architectural drawings nearly fifty years old, I try to imagine what life was like for the first family of this house. So boldly ahead of their time to construct such a residence in a town and on a street dotted with traditional family homes beautifully graced in their brick-wrapped walls, stately columns and Cape Cod lineages.
Gratefully a glimmer of a design dream so distinct manifested into this uniquely modern home that still proudly remains perched among the trees just as the original matriarch had envisioned nearly half a century before. So often I imagined what it would be like to sit down with her, to hear her vision and ask the myriad of questions that have arisen each day as I have settled into the spaces amongst these walls. Little did I know, I had been sitting alongside her all along.
As the noise of the hairdryers swirled around my ears, I heard the conversation turn to Wisconsin and I thought for a moment that the question was directed towards me as in this relatively small salon where I have been coming for over 15 years most everyone knew something about someone. Despite my love of Lambeau and my husband’s upbringing, the conversation was regarding the client’s upcoming move from the comfort of her senior living community and the town she’s always known to Madison, Wisconsin where her son lives.
Sensing her hesitance and with my love of Madison, I politely inserted myself in the conversation assuring her what a wonderful place she would be living in, the most incredible farmers’ market, the thriving university and the rich history of architecture. When we spoke of her current living arrangements I couldn’t resist sharing that I was anxious to meet a new friend I had recently discovered, who lived in the same community. She asked me who that happened to be and when I told her the name, Becky DeCamp, she proudly replied, “I’m Becky DeCamp!” I reached for her hand beaming as I joyfully exclaimed, “I live in your house!”
Hardly containing my excitement, while our hairstylists ran their fingers along the goosebumps on their arms, we exchanged numbers and agreed to visit and travel back to a time in her life that was slowly fading as it was apparent her memory was as well. As if an old friend, Becky warmly welcomed me to sit and stay awhile in her beautifully appointed den and we quickly expressed our excitement about our shared home. At first, the memories required some excavation but soon revealed a firm foundation as she smiled and remembered “nothing but happiness in that house.” As we scrolled through photos on my IPad, each passing picture unearthed more joy, more memories, more wonderful tales of her days spent in the home where her dreams became a reality. Stories of how her father thought she was crazy to try and build on this decidedly descending lot; how she literally stood her ground on the roots of a tree that was not to be moved; how she loved every minute of planning the home and how grateful she was to her husband Mike for trusting her vision and the willingness to see the dream of designing a home become a reality.
“Other people looked at me in awe and said, 'What made you think of that?!'” She said with a heartfelt laugh. “Becky, it’s going to slide down into the creek!” Her father would say, although he ended up loving the home so much he would stay there whenever he had the chance.
“No sirree!” Becky exclaimed, “I wouldn’t let anyone do anything to the trees, the house had to fit around the trees.” As she was describing herself as a frustrated non-trained architect, the details of the design began to resurface. She also recalled her natural inspiration: “The trees were there, so I put in the windows.”
And as for her husband Mike, Becky said to him, “You have given me the greatest gift in the whole world, letting me build a house.” And she did, Becky worked feverishly against time to build their dream home as Mike’s health began to decline and together they created “such a happy place.” It was truly a meaningful time for their family and Becky's eyes lit up as she recalled hosting dances on the deck and more parties than she can recall, her boys playing within view of the kitchen window and in their playroom below. She loved all the interest her home created and even her naysayers were fascinated with her masterpiece of a home.
The home still has its naysayers to this day, the friends and family who thought we were crazy to make this move, the contractors who are intimidated by lack of level ground and those who are comfortable in their traditional spaces, but as they pass through the front door and make their way down the brick-floored window-filled gallery to the living room and they approach just one of its many floor to ceiling windows, regardless of the season, an understanding begins to sink in. Nature knows no boundaries and very few souls can resist its call especially so perfectly framed in each breathtaking window and every branch magically lit as the sun stretches through the woods that willingly share space with our home.
“This house is so you” is often the phrase uttered by those who know me best and nearly half a century later it still is undeniably, so Becky.
People often ask me about my background as I did not follow a traditional design route, and I often find myself repeating the same answer, either you have it or you don’t. An eye for color and a sense of space, an ear to hear your clients and a heart to understand their needs and an ego that is willing to step back and let the design do the talking. The ability to have a vision, to look at the last lot anyone would want and to see a dream house perched perfectly in its place on a hopeless hill.
“Nobody wanted that lot, nobody thought you could build there, and I just thought that is exactly where I want to be.” Becky affectionately recalled. Me too, thanks to my new friend, I am exactly where I want to be.
#modernhome #dreamhome #modernarchitecture #soulsister