A family’s cluster of shed-roofed structures on a small lot bucks the conventions of the traditional mountain retreat.
David Tang and Edith Tom, both software engineers, had an interesting take on their cross-continental move. Back when they lived in Sydney, Australia, they would routinely travel five hours to visit the Snowy Mountains, reveling in its rugged outdoor beauty. When their company offered to relocate them to San Francisco in September 2017 to assist with a new project, they said yes. The way they saw it, the California city is only three hours from the Sierras.
After moving from Sydney to San Francisco, David Tang and Edith Tom built a family ski cabin in South Lake Tahoe designed to fit within its site instead of dominate it.
In the spring of 2020, after years of visiting South Lake Tahoe whenever they could, David and Edith purchased a plot where the edge of the town meets the base of the mountains at Heavenly Mountain Resort. Ready to build a vacation home that made their trips from San Francisco even more worthwhile, the couple got in touch with Mork-Ulnes Architects.
"There were big Jeffrey pine trees, lots of boulders and logs, and a gentle slope," remembers project lead, architect Colin Griffin. "When we got started, they were clear about wanting to celebrate the site."
The home comprises four shed-roofed structures connected at their corners, with the living area at the center. When open, sliders on either side create cross-ventilation. The ladder leads to a mezzanine office space.
David and Edith hired Mork-Ulnes knowing that the firm is split between San Francisco and Oslo, Norway, and exemplifies the mindsets of these locales. The group envisioned a home that has a Scandinavia-meets-California appreciation for the outdoors, one that didn’t sprawl across the mountainside but rather existed within it. After so many years of treasuring the Tahoe landscape at a distance, in a way, David and Edith asked for a property that would envelope them within it.
Open shelving and cabinetry in Douglas fir were designed to match the plywood in the rest of the home. Caesarstone countertops in Blizzard were installed alongside Jenn-Air appliances. The refrigerator is concealed next to the entry hall.
We do a disservice to modernist homes—and the public—when they are priced as private portfolio pieces for the rich.
As any regular reader of this publication is likely aware, there is a robust economy for modernist houses by significant architects. The most recent home to come to market is the iconic Stahl House for $25 million, designed by Pierre Koenig in the late 1950s as part of the well-known Case Study Houses, which advocated for mass-produced, affordable housing in the postwar period. Like many modernist houses, the Stahl House’s quiet story as an affordable and experimental model home for the postwar working class has bifurcated from its current, very audible, very unaffordable sale price.
From a real estate perspective, the price of the Stahl House is reasonable in comparison to recent historic house listings, such as the Ennis-Brown House by Frank Lloyd Wright asking $23 million (it sold for $18 million), or that of the Brown House by Richard Neutra, once owned by designer Tom Ford and after, writer and producer Ryan Murphy, who recently listed it at $33.9 million (it went for $24 million in September of 2025). These sales make the $8.75 million sale of Richard Neutra’s Lovell Health House to the Wirths (of Hauser-Wirth notoriety) and Frank Lloyd Wright’s Freeman House sale at a reported $1.8 million seem almost affordable. Like much of Los Angeles’s speculative real estate market, the prices of significant architecture are not established by rational means but by irrational notions of celebrity and desirability; these houses and their association with a particular mode of artful living drive up their prices, transforming previously humble family homes into coveted and rarefied assets. Historical value does not correlate with market value, but the bibliographic length of a house well published doesn’t hurt.
With the listing of the Stahl House, Bruce Stahl and Shari Stahl-Gronwald, the children of the original owners, are purportedly searching for an institution or individual who promises to preserve the house, as they have for the past six decades using much of their own resources (much applauded). The question is not if the house will sell—the question is to whom? By its price point, private ownership is inevitable. There is no public institution or nonprofit organization capable of acquiring it for this amount, so the asking price sets the terms of ownership: an individual buyer, likely a billionaire, of which Los Angeles has plenty. The high asking price all but guarantees the Stahl House will remain private, raising the question of whether and how critical public access to the house will be continued. (The Stahl family has not responded to request for comment.)
Los Angeles’s Stahl House, designed by Pierre Koenig in the late ’50s and completed in 1960, recently went up for sale by the children of the original owners for $25 million.
Koenig designed the Hollywood Hills residence as part of Los Angeles’s Case Study Houses, a postwar experiment in creating affordable, easily replicable homes.
A billionaire investor spearheads an affordable housing project in Colorado, how Frank Gehry became a household name, and more.
Netflix is betting that immersive, in-person fan experiences can help revive struggling malls, rolling out massive attractions inside shuttered department stores. The strategy is similar to escape rooms or themed bars in that it strives to get viewers off their couches and into the real world. (Bloomberg)
A Colorado billionaire bought a 104-unit apartment complex in Steamboat Springs for $95 million and listed its units at prices well below market rate. Here’s how the purchase, backed by tech investor and philanthropist Mark Stevens, turned existing luxury apartments into affordable workforce housing seemingly overnight. (Colorado Sun)
The first completed building at the Obama Presidential Center in Chicago is Home Court, a 60,000-square-foot, all-electric facility anchored by an NBA-size basketball court with views of Jackson Park. The space was designed by Black-owned firm Moody Nolan with input from Barack Obama himself. (Chicago Sun Times)
The New York transit system’s chief accessibility officer, Quemuel Arroyo, knows the subway’s failures firsthand—his own commute from Harlem requires multiple buses just to reach an elevator-equipped subway station accessible for his wheelchair. Now he’s lobbying for billions to fix a system where nearly two-thirds of stations remain inaccessible. (The New York Times)
Photo by Bonnie Schiffman/Getty Images
Frank Gehry, who died this month at 96, reshaped Los Angeles and cities around the world by treating buildings as playful, people-first experiments, from his radical Santa Monica home to Bilbao’s Guggenheim. Here’s how he became the first true "starchitect." (Dwell)
From the Agent: "Perched at the edge of the 400-acre Granite Mountain Preserve, 29 Tyler Road is a masterfully reimagined home that blends bold, expressive architecture with an unparalleled connection to nature. Originally designed by architects in the 1970s and now completely transformed by award-winning design studio Dean & Dahl, this glass-walled sanctuary spans 2.78 private wooded acres and feels like a retreat in the treetops. Outside, moss-covered boulders and stone paths lead to a private deck—ideal for morning coffee or evening cocktails under the stars. Located just 2.7 miles from the Taconic Parkway and 10.8 miles from Metro-North, this is a one-of-a-kind escape where exceptional design meets wilderness—just an hour from Midtown Manhattan."
The chevron flooring is made of one-inch-thick reclaimed maple.
Eager to indulge my love for literature with a Scottish setting, I went straight to a spot with its own backstory: a restored boat with 17 guest "cabins" in the Leith port district.
Welcome to One Night In, a series about staying in the most unparalleled places available to rest your head.
As a lifelong bookworm, I’ve always loved literary travel, and Edinburgh, with its cozy bookshops and strong literary background, has been a dream destination. When I planned a mid-September trip to the Scottish capital, I knew I wanted to include a stay somewhere evocative of the city’s character and history. Between the medieval and Scottish Baronial (a 19th-century Gothic Revival style) buildings in Old Town and the Georgian-era developments in New Town, there’s plenty of still-standing dramatic architecture from long-ago eras in the city. But the Ocean Mist, a restored ship turned floating hotel in the harbor district of Leith, seemed like a perfect fit for its mix of old-world romance that might feel like the setting of a period novel and its connection to the area’s centuries-old maritime trade history. (Leith was Scotland’s most significant port for trade from about the 14th century until its decline in the late 20th century.)
Originally built in 1919 as a minesweeper for the Admiralty (a U.K. government department that was in command of the Royal Navy from the early 1700s to the mid-1960s), the Ocean Mist (née the Ocean Rover) changed many hands over the decades. Never actually used for its original purpose, the boat was sold to Guinness heir Kenelm Guinness, an avid race car driver and yacht enthusiast, who converted it into a motor yacht for himself and his high-status friends during the 1920s. In the late 1930s, the Admiralty requisitioned the boat and used it as a torpedo recovery vessel during World War II. After switching ownership a few more times during the ’40s and ’50s, including a period laid up in an English port city, the boat was bought by a wealthy whisky distiller to run liquor from Scotland to California during Prohibition. The ship arrived at its current home on the Water of Leith in the early ’80s and operated as various establishments—restaurants, nightclubs—for the next three decades before being abandoned and falling into disrepair.
In 2019, the Pedley family (of Edinburgh businessman Alan Pedley) purchased the Ocean Mist and, following a three-year restoration, opened it as a boutique hotel and bar that offers "maritime heritage and modern comfort," according to its website. I was thrilled when the hotel agreed to host me for an overnight stay. To get there, I took a train from London through England’s Peak District. (En route, I couldn’t miss the opportunity to pop into Chatsworth House, one of the filming locations for the 2005 Pride & Prejudice film.)
The Ocean Mist was named the Ocean Rover from the early 1920s until the mid ’50s, when it was given its current moniker.
Photo from Alamy
Monday
2:30 p.m.: In true Edinburgh fashion, it starts to rain as I hop off the tram at The Shore stop near the namesake cobbled waterfront street where many restaurants and pubs are located. I pass the stately 19th-century statue of Scotland’s national poet, Robert Burns, as I head toward the water; according to Google Maps, the Ocean Mist hotel should be berthed just a little way down the Water of Leith riverfront. My excitement builds as I approach the corner.
I spot the navy-blue hull with its bright-red stripe first, where a Scottish flag sits proudly on the stern above the words Ocean Mist. The converted boat hotel is moored opposite the main strip of restaurants, and I feel a smidge of self-importance as I cross the somewhat soggy red carpet over the short gangway.
My first impression of the interior is the captain’s office. It’s an intimate reception space with dark polished wood walls, leather Chesterfield chairs, a compass design inlaid into the center of the floor, and, as I find out later, the ship’s original safe. To my right, a glass chandelier and steampunk clock hover above a curved stairwell to the lower deck. Daniel, looking the part in his nautical-style uniform and low ponytail, greets me and confirms my reservation details. He lets me know I can find the bar and lounge up on the top-level bridge deck and hands me the key to my "cabin," the Duke of Leeds. The hotel’s 17 accommodations are spread across the upper, main, and lower decks, and each is named after a person tied to the boat’s history, from previous owners (like the Duke of Leeds) to Lindsay Burnett, the boat’s boiler builder. There are snug "berths" inspired by traditional shipboard sleeping quarters, standard cabins, and more spacious suites (with larger portholes for better views). The three "staterooms"—the largest room option—incorporate designs specific to their positions on the ship; one, for example, near the original triple-expansion steam engine, has cork walls that are slanted and rounded to the boat’s form and a window that looks into the engine room.
Floor-to-ceiling glass separates the Castle View Bar from the rear deck, which has a spiral staircase that leads down to the boat’s lower levels where the cabins are.
Courtesy Ocean Mist
My cabin is on the upper deck and at the end of a narrow wood-paneled corridor. Inside, the room is lined with portholes and decorated in shades of bronze, navy, and white, with natural cork walls, some of which are topped by full-length beige silk wallcoverings. There’s a geometric dark wood headboard, an Art Deco-patterned navy carpet, and bronze bedside pendant lights. The thick rope cornice at the top and bottom of the walls feel on the nose, but not corny. It’s cozy but a little dim, as the size of the portholes limits the amount of natural light. (Although they have great views, I’ll close them when getting changed just in case someone across the river has super sharp vision.)
My eyes quickly land on a wax-sealed letter on the bed. While it’s not an invitation to dine with the captain, the welcome letter introduces the family-run business, hints at the boat’s rich history, and invites me to learn more about the restoration at reception. I continue to settle into the room, and play with a vintage telephone that I think is a prop before I hear the dial tone and realize it’s connected. (I quickly hang up.)
I love the ambience, but the space itself is not quite as luxurious—or, old glamour—as I imagined. This could come down to simple practicality; for instance, I find out later some of the rooms’ silk wallcoverings were replaced with natural cork because they were hard to maintain. I can imagine certain materials wouldn’t fare super well in an "onboard" environment like this one.
The amenities are typical of a hotel room, with the addition of some loose leaf teas and shortbread, but there’s no mini fridge or TV. I don’t mind, as I’m here for a short stay, but other guests could find this inconvenient. I pop into the bathroom and am delighted to find it’s well-lit and also on theme, with glossy green wall tiles and a classic pull-chain toilet. I grin when I see the toilet paper origami in the shape of a boat, stamped with a hotel seal.
3 p.m.: It’s time for a late lunch. I cross the Water of Leith river and stroll five minutes to Roseleaf, a homely bistro where I sit next to a window with a typewriter on the sill and am handed a menu folded into an old issue of National Geographic. I can’t get past the cullen skink: a creamy Scottish soup made with smoked haddock, potatoes, and onions. It’s indulgently hearty.
Dark wood-paneled walls, leather Chesterfield sofas, and portholes feel right at home in the converted boat hotel.
From the Agent: "This remarkable Scandinavian-style home is situated on 10 acres on National Road in Thornville, Ohio. Expansive views through walls of windows blur the lines between indoors and out. A captivating great room with eight skylights and exposed trusses functions as the main artery of the home, and features a custom kitchen, dining room, and dual living spaces. A butler’s pantry off the kitchen has ample storage, prep space, and refrigeration. The retreat-like primary wing encircled by woods features a spacious en suite with a zero-entry shower, terra-cotta and zellige tile, and white oak accents. There are two additional bedrooms off the great room and a second full bath with a soaking tub. The home is minutes from Newark amenities, Flint Ridge, the Dawes Arboretum, and Buckeye Lake."
Photo by Holly Beal Malone
The home’s flooring is a mix of local ash, brick pavers, and concrete.
Impossibly wavy brick topping the residence forms a funnel to capture rainwater.
Houses We Love: Every day we feature a remarkable space submitted by our community of architects, designers, builders, and homeowners. Have one to share? Post it here.
From the Architect:"Conceived in the isolation of the pandemic, the Passive House is a direct response to the desire for a simpler, autonomous life connected to nature. Designed by Mareines Arquitetura, the residence is situated on a large plot of land in the interior of São Paulo that underwent a process of reforestation, in partnership with the Vistara Landscape Architecture office.
"The architecture embraces this commitment from its inception, engaging in a sensitive dialogue with the land and a program that respects the natural cycle of elements. It was important for the house to emerge from the very earth, utilizing its materials and respecting its flows. It’s not just about being sustainable—it needed to reflect that sustainability.
"The starting point of the project was the creation of a walled triangular garden, planted with various species and protected by three architectural arms. It is a reinterpretation of cloisters, elements common in monasteries. We wanted this to be an area of tranquility, pause, and meditation.
"This pursuit of introspection and serenity is also reflected in the organization of the spaces. The residence consists of two main volumes. On the ground floor, there are social areas and guest suites, distributed in a fluid and continuous manner. The zoning is suggested, not imposed: the water mirror, the furniture, the curvature of the roof, and the very incidence of light create distinct atmospheres without the use of walls. In the upper volume, isolated above the garden, is the primary suite, a spacious and private area, with an office and a privileged view of the land, ensuring privacy even during visits.
"The exposed brick roof with a pronounced curvature is one of the central elements of the project. In addition to aesthetically marking the residence, it acts as a rainwater collector, directing it to the pool. The double slabs and generous eaves contribute to the passive cooling of the spaces, eliminating the need for air conditioning."
