On a tip from a friend, designer Herbert Brito went to see what was described as "the perfect house" for him in Atlanta's beautiful Buckhead neighborhood. "I knew when I rolled down the driveway, I had to do something with it," says Brito. The "it" was a nearly pristine 40-year-old mid-century-modern house. A classic example of postwar architecture, the wood, brick, and stone house was designed by Robert Green, a Fellow of Taliesin and one of Frank Lloyd Wright's last students. "Finding something like this in its original condition in Atlanta, and so perfectly Prairie Style, was completely compelling," says Brito. But it wasn't for him; he had just committed to a major remodeling of his condominium. So he called a friend, Stephen Dull (rhymes with jewel).

Dull had just completed a ranch-house renovation but was dissatisfied. He yearned for a better, more suitable setting for his outstanding collection of large-scale, mid-century American art. He decided to take a look at Brito's find and was intrigued. That night at dinner with friends who are experts in the renovation business, Dull discussed the house and what needed to be done. But when he explained his budget limitations, they laughed. Undeterred, Dull went back and bought the house. "I couldn't help it; the house itself had the same historical importance as the things I collect," he says.

And he does mean historical importance. Traditional design may be rooted in the past, but it didn't grind to a halt at the end of the 19th century. It's a vibrant, living, ever-evolving idea that moves forward, carrying that past with it. As we face the millennium, 20th-century modern is already slipping into the traditional design vocabulary. Just as Sheraton and Hepplewhite once were the "hot" modern designers of their day, we know enough now to add the names of this century's top designers—names like Frank Lloyd Wright, Charles and Ray Eames, Alvar Aalto, and George Nelson—to the list of history's greatest.

Though we tend to think of Prairie Style as being perhaps the beginning of the modern architecture tradition in this country because of the new ideas it ushered in, its basis is found in 19th-century design movements. Wright incorporated ideas from traditional Japanese architecture, the 19th-century Arts and Crafts movement, and even Victorian notions of the relationship between a house and its site in the design of his Prairie homes. The first examples of Prairie-Style architecture appeared in the 19th century and in some respects reached its peak in 1906 in the Robie House in Chicago, Illinois. By now it has become well-ensconced in the American architectural tradition, even enjoying something of a revival as we head into the millennium.

To buy such a house in nearly original condition, though suffering somewhat from benign neglect, creates its own set of dilemmas, not the least of which is determining what should be preserved and what can be removed without damaging the integrity of the house. The only real change to the original house had been a porch that was enclosed to make a study in 1987, and that had been designed by Green for the original owners. "Just because it's original doesn't mean it needs to be saved," notes Brito. "Sometimes you should go in, take pictures and then tear it out."

From the start, Dull and Brito were sensitive to the importance of this house. They knew they needed to restore where possible and renovate only where necessary—and then only in an appropriate manner and with appropriate materials.

The house, as they found it, was dark (the redwood shiplap planks on the walls and ceiling had darkened considerably with age, and the built-in lighting was inadequate), one of the cantilevered extensions was sagging, and there was some water damage to the study deck. Other than that, the house was in pretty good condition. Good enough, in fact, that Dull and Brito decided that whatever needed to be done, the exterior would not be changed, and that inside, only the kitchen and bathrooms would undergo any major renovation. And for that, architect Green was still alive and available for consultation.

As in many houses from the 1950s and '60s, the bathrooms and the kitchen, all of which were original, were too small and hopelessly out of date. Replacing appliances and fixtures was, of course, fairly simple, but finding more room inside without changing the structure's exterior meant rethinking the layout of the whole house and the functions of the rooms within.

The most dramatic change came in the kitchen, or more accurately, in the family room, which became the kitchen. The original kitchen was a tiny room at the back of the house connected to a decent-sized family room. Brito proposed turning the family room into a kitchen and the original kitchen into a service area. This new service area would provide additional storage for dishes, pottery, and wine and could also be a staging area for entertaining. Dull agreed to the change.

Rather than stripping the family room to the studs and building something completely new, Brito retrofitted the new kitchen into the old room. First he removed the redwood siding and had it cleaned. Then he fit the cabinets onto the walls. He had the redwood recut and fitted around the cabinets to keep the room a seamless part of the whole. When it came time to finish the space, Brito consulted Green on the choice of materials, selecting beechwood, stone, and stainless steel and maintaining the oak floor.

Though the new kitchen is still small by today's standards, Dull chose to keep a glassed-in corner as a breakfast area overlooking the terrace and the heavily wooded backyard. To gain more space, Brito designed an efficient island that includes a self-venting cooktop and lots of specialized storage. He boosted the lighting by retrofitting the original recessed fixtures with halogen monopoints and by positioning task lights over all of the work areas.

The design for the bathrooms called for using the same natural materials used in the kitchen. The rich mix of colors and textures makes up for the relatively small spaces. Where he did need to find space for the master bathroom, he borrowed a closet from an adjoining room. Like everywhere else in the house, the redwood siding was retained.

While Dull already had a strong personal commitment to mid-century American design, the house seemed to give an even stronger focus to his interest. According to architect Green, the style of the house fits into the later vision of Frank Lloyd Wright. "Prairie Style was Wright's first style. It culminated with the Robie House in Chicago," explains Green. "Then he went to his California style, which is characterized by the use of concrete block. After that he developed his organic/modern style, to which my house belongs. It represents an evolution from the organic style." What it shares with Wright's work is the arrangement of long, low planes that incorporate indoor and outdoor space while conforming to and even appearing to have grown out of the site.

Furnishing the house began with Dull's extensive collection of 20th-century American art by such well-known mid-century artists as Robert Rauschenberg, Jasper Johns, Claes Oldenburg, James Rosenquist, Susan Rothenberg, Elizabeth Murray, Ellsworth Kelly, and Frank Stella.

"I was already familiar with the collection," recalls Brito, "but when it was time to hang it, the art presented a challenge. We wanted people to be confronted with it, to become connected with it. So each piece had to be placed where people would want to start a conversation about it." Brito wound up arranging the art so one piece leads to another, creating a strong sense of the collection as a whole as well as showcasing individual works.

Likewise, the list of furnituremakers used in the house is a thoughtful sampling of some of the greatest designers of the 20th century, including Alvar Aalto, Frank Lloyd Wright, Charles and Ray Eames, Le Corbusier, Frank Gehry, Harry Bertoia, Eero Saarinen, Isamu Noguchi, and George Nakashima. Add Dull's other decorative pieces by Russel Wright, Eva Zeisel, Georg Jensen, and Philippe Starck, and a large collection of Roseville pottery, and the overall effect is more than a slice of 20th-century American design history; it is a complete, living, breathing statement of the vitality of America's postwar design revolution.

Credits

Text: Eliot Nusbaum

Photography: Jenifer Jordan

Architect: Robert Green

Designer: Herbert Brito

Regional Editor: Lynn McGill