Schoolhouse renovation

We mostly design and build kitchens and other built-ins, and do the smaller renovations that go along with such projects. We don't usually do big additions, houses, or major renovations. Except when we do. 

This is the Riley's schoolhouse. I want to talk about this project at length (though just look at the pictures if you prefer) because it shows something about how we think about design.

The Riley's house sits high on a hill, with lovely Vermont views, next to a beautiful white country church. Like most one room schools, it was converted into a house many years ago, and has been renovated several times since then. Yet it still had the flavor of a country school, a lot of the original materials, and one huge, wonderful central room, the old schoolroom, with those enormous windows along two walls.

The Spiral Staircase was a big problem. Photo by Susan Riley

The house had some basic problems. The upstairs was Susan's painting studio, but it barely worked. There was little storage. With little cross-ventilation, it got overheated in summer. She wanted to be able to have open studios up there, but the only access was the treacherous spiral staircase in the photo. They were currently sleeping upstairs and using a minimalistic bathroom downstairs. They wanted a downstairs bedroom, with a decent accessible bathroom.

Existing Kitchen

Downstairs, the kitchen work area was tiny, and barely functional. The cabinets and storage were minimal. The stove actually stuck out into the hallway. The back bedroom was barely heatable, and the atrium door to the outside turned the space into a hallway. The garage space didn't work as a garage, and flooded on an annual basis.

Existing Plan

Right in the middle of the main room, was this spiral staircase, dangerous, awkward to use, and not really legal from an egress point of view. I wanted it gone!

It boiled down to one question: could we make the house into a place where they could live and work for the next twenty years, or should they be moving to a completely different home?

That option made me sad, because the schoolhouse was such a wonderful place, and had features, and a feeling, you would never find in another house.

The first idea was to design an addition to provide an accessible studio where Susan could work and visitors and clients could see her work. This wasn't a bad idea but was expensive and had permitting issues.

After a lot of discussion, we learned the basic truth of the house: It had more than enough space, but was poorly laid out. It was a big house that functioned like a small, cramped uncomfortable house. If we fixed the layout, there was enough room without adding new space.

The upstairs would work fine as Susan's studio with better windows and ventilation, a proper staircase, and lots of storage for artwork. Downstairs, though, more drastic measures were called for, but they would make a huge difference.

It would be a massive, messy project, but cheaper than building an addition, and we hoped cheaper and better than moving. I felt that if we thought about it enough, and drew and discussed enough floor plans, we could retain all the charm and style of the space, but make it function as it should.

A project like this can easily get out of hand. Wherever possible we leave things alone. For example, the large stage that Dick used as his office – he's a choral director, and a grand piano is basic equipment – was perfect as is. We went to great lengths to save what we could: a tile shower downstairs, some built-in closets, old floors, and huge amounts of old bead board.

I hoped when we were done, it would look as if it had been like this for years.

Revised Plan

This was every bit a collaboration. I made the drawings and estimates for the project, but Dick and Susan worked with us through every iteration, every calculation, and most every detail. My partners Steve Grunewald and Todd Krumperman were fully involved in reviewing everything about the design, and not shy about critiquing the plans, and insisting on improvements. Somehow in that messy process I hoped we would end up with a result that looks inviting, but also logical, peaceful, as if it was this way all along.

The basic moves:

It wasn't easy to move this hall, but it made room for a bathroom and a much bigger kitchen, without messing up the stage area.

Move the downstairs hallway: Moving the hall was the key. This wasn't easy – there was a chimney in the way, and we had to shorten up the stage area. But it made room for a real bathroom, and allowed us to expand the kitchen. It made the back bedroom work better also.

Stairs: Getting rid of the spiral, and building a real staircase in a better location at the edge. It was tricky to make all the head rooms work. It was a matter of inches all the way, particularly leaving room for the bathroom tucked under the stairs.

The new staircase is along the wall as you enter, and rises below an existing dormer upstairs.

New Kitchen.

The new kitchen was styled to go with the 19th century bead board schoolhouse vibe, but had many of the modern devices we usually do: lots of drawers, open shelves, good provisions for trash and composting, and a nice slate counter at the sink, with draining shelves above.

Garage/to utility room: A non-functional garage, which flooded each year, got some foundation work and a new floor, and became a laundry, storage space, and utility room, with a modern boiler.

Air and Light: Upstairs, aside from the staircase, the big changes were adding a large new triple casement to maximize light and air movement in the front, and replacing old double hung windows in the rear of the building with new casements. Also, lots of storage for art-work. Moving the spiral staircase made the space a lot bigger.

The rebuilt studio, with new window providing plenty of ventilation. Photo by Susan Riley

Simple Flat Files tucked into the eaves, with a “gallery shelf” above.

Photos by Nicky Morris, except as noted.