Without Styling, With Consistency
An old tenement building on a quiet street in a residential district. Today, the structure appears as a natural part of its surroundings – restrained in form, bright, with a roof that doesn’t draw attention yet transforms the proportions of the entire structure. Nothing about it shouts, nothing pretends. This is the result of decisions that prioritized restraint over spectacle.
Just a few years ago, this same building was a patchwork of eras: an illegible facade, additions from different decades, an asbestos roof that had long ceased to serve its purpose. The new owners faced a question that arises in every renovation: how much to preserve, how much to simplify, and how not to lose the character of the place while trying to reclaim it.
The answer proved to be consistency. Not a stylized throwback, not contrasting gestures, but a calm restoration of the building to a form that allows it to breathe.
The starting point: a building without a single identity
The tenement was built in the late 1920s and early 1930s as a rental house – typical development for a residential district that combined living quarters with small-scale commercial use. Over the decades, the building changed functions: it was divided into communal apartments, later into offices, and finally – after years of neglect – stood empty.
The architects who took over the adaptation project encountered a structure full of accumulated layers. The facade bore traces of successive renovations: plaster in three different shades, bricked-up windows, balconies added without logic. The roof was low, dark, with chimneys that had long stopped working. The interior – a maze of small rooms, corridors, and mezzanines that blocked the light.
The impulse for change was clear: transform the building into a multi-family home that would be functional yet maintain its relationship with the surroundings. The goal wasn’t to maximize square footage, but to create a space where people could live peacefully – without excess, without decoration, without pretending to be something the tenement never was.
Decisions: What to Simplify, What to Preserve
The key decision was abandoning the recreation of the historical form. The tenement had no single, pure style – it was a hybrid. Rather than attempting to “restore” it, the designers opted for organization: removing everything that had accumulated randomly and reinforcing what constituted the building’s core.
The façade was simplified to basic geometry: rectangular windows, uniform plaster, no ornamentation. Balconies were removed – their structure was unstable and their form arbitrary. Instead, large windows appeared that let in light without disrupting the façade’s proportions. The ground floor, previously divided into small units, was opened up – today it’s a common space connecting the entrance with the garden.
Inside, most partition walls were eliminated. The new room layout followed the logic of light and function, not historical division. Three apartments were created – each with its own rhythm, but without competing for dominance. The stairwell, previously cramped and dark, gained a skylight and simplicity.
The Roof as a New Reference Point
The roof was the moment where the past had to give way. The old, flat asbestos roof was beyond repair. The structure was weakened, insulation – nonexistent. The designers could have pursued reconstruction – recreating the steep gable roof from the 1930s. They chose differently.
The new roof is gently pitched, covered with sheet metal in muted graphite. It doesn’t imitate any era, but harmonizes with the surroundings – other roofs in the area, trees, the horizon line. Changing the pitch allowed raising the attic floor, which was previously unusable. Today it’s a full-fledged part of the apartment – bright, with roof windows that don’t disturb the elevation.
The decision for roof simplicity was crucial for the entire form. The building stopped being a hodgepodge of shapes – it became unified, legible, rooted in place.
Materials and Rhythm: Dialogue Without Tension
The townhouse renovation avoided contrasts for contrast’s sake. New elements—window joinery, balustrades, flooring—are contemporary but not loud. The windows are dark aluminum that blends into the facade. Floors feature wide oak planks, without artificial aging. Walls are white, with visible plaster texture.
The designers avoided imitation. There were no “period-style” tiles, artificially distressed wood, or decorative moldings. Instead—material consistency that allows the building to be what it is now: a house with history, yet living in the present.
The window rhythm on the facade was preserved—the only element that directly references the original layout. But their form is new: larger glazing, thinner profiles, better performance. A subtle compromise between memory and function.
Relationship with Surroundings
The townhouse stands in a district that has changed character over the years. Nearby—1930s villas, lower 1970s buildings, new townhouse developments. The designers didn’t try to mimic any of these languages. Instead, they opted for restraint: the building is present but doesn’t dominate.
The garden, previously neglected, was tidied up. No catalog-perfect lawns—rather natural greenery, old trees, gravel paths. The garden-facing elevation is simpler than the front—fewer windows, more calm. This is the private side, which doesn’t need to show off.
Life After the Decisions
Today the building functions quietly. Residents speak of light – how its distribution changed after opening up the interiors and raising the roof. Morning sun streams through east-facing windows, evening light through the attic dormers. No dark corridors, no sense of maze.
The daily rhythm has shifted too. The ground-floor common space – previously unused – became a gathering place. The stairwell, thanks to the skylight, is no longer just circulation. The garden, visible from most rooms, returned to everyday life.
The building doesn’t pretend to be new. Time’s traces show – wall thickness, proportions, rootedness in place. But there’s no weight of the past. This is a house given a second chance – not through styling, but through consistent simplification.
Summary: Renovation as a Form of Respect
The tenement’s second life resulted from decisions that prioritized honesty. The designers didn’t try to recreate what was, nor create something entirely new. They chose a third way: organizing, quieting, and letting the building be itself – without excess, without pretense.
Roof, facade, interiors – each element underwent simplification. This wasn’t about minimalism as style, but removing the unnecessary. Finding a form that allows the building to endure – in a new role, but respecting place and context.
This approach shows renovation need not be reconstruction or revolution. It can simply be the consistent process of bringing a building to a state where it serves well again – without styling, with respect, with thoughtfulness.
