Full House
Author:Lindsey ShookA couple makes a San Francisco home for their extended clan
Listening to Wilkinson describe her clients, you get the idea that those beds are used often and the rooms frequently filled with laughter and the sounds of children playing. “They have seven children and several grandchildren,” says Wilkinson. “These are people who are very family oriented.”
Photographer: Paul Dyer
To accommodate visiting family, Wilkinson made sure that many of the rooms do double duty. For instance, in the home offce she installed a sleeper sofa that’s anked by custom-designed ottomans that fold out to become twin beds. “Everything here has a purpose, and some pieces have more than one,” says Wilkinson.
Photographer: Paul Dyer
Wilkinson made the freestanding bathtub a focal point by installing a tub filler in the ceiling above it. “When you turn it on, it becomes something like a waterfall. It puts you in mind of a Japanese bathing ritual, where sight and sound are important parts of the preparation,” she says. “It’s perfect for my client, who loves all things Zen.”
Photographer: Paul Dyer
In the master suite, the bathroom is the more compact size favored by people in 1921. Linsteadt gave it the expansiveness modern families prefer by separating it from the bedroom with pocket doors. “Large bathrooms are nice, but sometimes it can be a waste of space,” the architect says. “This bathroom has all you need, and when the doors are open, it’s full of light.”
Photographer: Paul Dyer
Linsteadt designed plaster walls and ceiling moldings that look like they have always been there, and draw the eye upward. “I like larger windows, but where we couldn’t make them bigger, we put a transom-shaped molding above them,” he says. “It makes the room seem taller.”
Photographer: Paul Dyer
In a nod to the building’s classic architecture, the team worked hard to make sure that, although practically every surface was touched, the alterations weren’t obvious. Wilkinson selected hand-troweled Venetian plaster for the walls to give the space an Old World look.
Photographer: Paul Dyer
Linsteadt opened the walls between the rooms as much as possible, preserving a small, gas fireplace between them. “If the wall had come down completely, you would have had a very large, very hard room to furnish,” says Wilkinson. Designed for clan, the rooms also needed to work when the couple were alone
Photographer: Paul Dyer
Cabinets and drawers are painted the soft gray shade of San Francisco’s fog. Upper cabinets are gone (storage moves to an adjacent pantry) in favor of a broad expanse of marble slab and a room-spanning soffit that hides the range hood. Wilkinson also selected marble countertops, giving them substantial, three-inch edges for presence.
Photographer: Paul Dyer
Linsteadt removed the wall between the kitchen and the dining room, expanding the narrow cooking space and giving it an Alcatraz view. Now that the kitchen was on display, Linsteadt and Wilkinson worked together to make it a quiet space that lives comfortably with the dining and living area.
Photographer: Paul Dyer
That said, the team wanted to rethink the space. Embracing the spectacular views was a no-brainer, but building rules stated that the exterior could not be altered, therefore most windows couldn’t change. However, the interior walls were fair game.
Photographer: Paul Dyer
The strong Mediterranean flavor might have felt limiting to some architects, but to Linsteadt it was business as usual. “In our practice, we often work with historic homes, and we are used to taking cues from the old buildings,” he says.
Photographer: Paul Dyer
From the windows of their home, you can see the bay, Alcatraz and Coit Tower. “I had never been inside the building before, and it caught me by surprise,” Linsteadt says. “The views are quintessential San Francisco, but the surroundings make you feel like you are somewhere in Tuscany.”
Photographer: Paul Dyer
One unit belongs to a couple who wanted to create a space where their large family could gather, and they hired interior designer Kendall Wilkinson and architect Ken Linsteadt to make it happen.
Photographer: Paul Dyer
The entrance to the Russian Hill building gives few hints as to what lies inside. With its red-tile roof, brick courtyard and bubbling fountain, surely architect T. Paterson Ross had the Mediterranean in mind when he built the 29-unit complex in 1921.
Photographer: Paul Dyer