Much like Sleeping Beauty waiting for her handsome prince, a lovely old house on Monument Avenue in Richmond, Virginia, slumbered for some 30 years, neglected and untouched. In 1998, the long-awaited prince arrived in the person of decorative painter and interior designer Barnett Adler, and the kiss that restored the home to its former splendor was a cash-heavy year-long renovation.

The house is neither the largest nor the most glamorous on the gracious boulevard, named for the statues of Southern heroes that line its greenway. But when it was built in 1923, the 4,300-square-foot Colonial Revival had its own quiet beauty. For the last few decades, though, its owner had been a woman adamant that no one touch her house.

When the owner moved to a nursing home and the house went on the market, its neglected condition didn't dissuade Barnett. Ever since he moved to Richmond 10 years earlier, he had dreamed of living in one of Monument's grand homes. "I walked into the entrance and knew that this was it," he says. "I didn't even need to see the rest of the house."

Little did he realize how much fortitude — and money — it would take just to make his new home livable. This is how bad it was: When the trustees had an estate sale, they passed out ventilator masks to everyone entering. A toilet stood in the middle of the dining room. There was no running water and no heat. Lightning had struck the roof years before, and the resulting hole had never been repaired. The house was also infested with the largest colony of termites that the exterminator had ever seen.

Despite all this, the structure still had a few things going for it. In some ways, the neglect was a plus — the house had not been altered, and fireplaces, woodwork, and windows were mostly intact. "There were no bad additions to undo," Barnett says. It was also still pretty sturdy, thanks to double-thick brick walls and a steel substructure. "When you walked in, the house felt solid. It was those steel I-beams that saved it." And few architectural changes were needed. The original architect had planned the house well; rooms flowed into each other.

Still, there was plenty of work to be done before Barnett could work his paint magic. He had to replace the electrical systems, the plumbing, the boiler, and virtually all of the 38 radiators — just one of many budget-busting surprises. He also had central air-conditioning installed.

The kitchen was one of the few rooms that needed to be reconfigured. As in many large vintage homes, the tiny space was designed for use by servants. By knocking out walls between the kitchen, the butler's pantry, and two small closets, Barnett was able to create a roomy L-shaped space. He also opened the space to the old breakfast room to create a sunporch.

Barnett's approach here mirrored his take on the rest of the house: The room had to be up-to-date but also appropriate for the elegant house. Although he cooks very little, he entertains frequently and wanted a kitchen that would make caterers happy. Pale bird's-eye maple cabinetry brings a contemporary note to the room. The door style, however, is a traditional recessed panel, a nod to an earlier era. "I wanted a nice balance of periods," he says. "It needed to be clean and fresh but not too modern."

He drew the color scheme from the backsplash tile — his one kitchen splurge — made from tumbled marble with pieces of handblown glass. To stay within budget, he chose a slate-hued laminate rather than granite for the countertops. "I got the look of the stone without the price," he says. The island became a centerpiece with a top of thick Venetian granite.

As for the rest of the house, Barnett viewed it as a portfolio for his design and his decorative painting. He didn't want a typical Richmond residence (very formal, full of chintzes and Queen Anne furnishings). He wanted intriguing walls, layers of texture, and streamlined — almost contemporary — furnishings. He chose his palette first: warm browns, greens, and muted yellows. In the living room, he began with stippled paint on the walls and left the woodwork a glossy white for sharp contrast. "I didn't want everything faux-painted," he says, "but on the other hand, it is a big part of me." Clean-lined upholstered pieces in a stylish khaki shade help to update.

A large dose of terra-cotta gives the dining-room walls a slightly different flavor. The hues complement the fabric on the imported Italian chairs, which were reworked so that the tops have a gentle arch. Barnett designed the table and had artist Paul Bertholet paint the top to resemble marble and granite inlay. (It's the only decorative painting in the house that Barnett didn't do himself.)

Upstairs, layers of more texture bring serenity to the master bedroom. Barnett began with subtle blue-green silk for the headboard and then created his own secret cross-hatching paint technique to match the appearance of the luxurious raw silk.

One of his reasons for buying the big house was so that he could work out of it. He combined two bedrooms on the second floor to create a large, airy office, big enough for him and partner Susan Hicklin.

Now that the renovation and the decorating are complete, this fairy tale does indeed have a happy ending. One can only hope that this no-longer-sleeping beauty will live happily ever after.

Credits

Text: Rhoda J. Murphy

Photography: Celia Pearson

Producer: Eileen Deymier