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A Big CA Housing Bill Will Soon Take Effect—and Everything Else You Need to Know About This Week

Senate Democrats suspect that national park fees may be funding Trump’s vanity projects, Philip Johnson’s first home is saved from demolition, and more.

Last year, California Governor Gavin Newsom signed SB 79, a bill that will override local zoning to allow the construction of housing near major transit. The law is set to take effect on July 1 of this year, and some estimate it could add 1.5 million homes. But Los Angeles is already taking measures to dull its impact. (The Los Angeles Times)
Senate Democrats are questioning whether millions in national park entry fees were diverted from park maintenance to fund Trump’s D.C. beautification projects, including renovations to the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool. Adam Schiff plans to launch an inquiry into the issue, demanding greater transparency from the Interior Department. (The Hill)
A new AI real estate app is promising buyers a 30-second analysis of any listing, from valuation scores to estimated ownership costs. But its creator insists the platform is designed to complement, not replace, the work of real estate agents and how they help the buyer. (Inc.)
Philip Johnson’s first residential commission, Booth House in Bedford, New York, is getting a second life thanks to a $2.5 million restoration led by an architect-builder duo determined to preserve the modernist landmark. After sitting vacant for more than a decade, the home could return to the market by 2027. (The New York Times)

A homeless man living on the porch of a multi-million dollar mansion in London while it remains empty is a stark representation of the city’s housing crisis. — An unhoused man living on the porch of a multi-million dollar mansion in London while it remains empty is a stark portrayal of the city’s housing crisis.
Photo by Mike Kemp/In Pictures via Getty Images

One of Britain’s most expensive homes—a $210 million, 45 room mansion in Knightsbridge—has been empty for years, while its only "resident" is an unhoused man living under a makeshift shelter on the front porch. The scene is a surreal representation of London’s housing crisis, where luxury properties are treated as investments rather than homes to, well, live in. (The Guardian)

Top photo by Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times via Getty Images

NY Design Week’s Coolest Show Was a Feast of Night-Lights—And It’s Up for Two More Weeks

East coast galleries Dudd Haus and The Future Perfect turned a town house into a glowing spectacle of zany works from established and emerging designers.

This story is part of Fair Take, our reporting on global design events that looks up close at the newest ideas in fixtures, furnishings, and more.

I’ve moved 11 times since leaving home after high school and in all of those moves the one thing I still really mourn losing is a night-light. It was this small sun with a smiling face, left at my Brooklyn apartment in the winter of 2021 when my partner at the time and I were packing everything we could into one car to drive across the country and move to Los Angeles. I’d had it since I was a kid, this small simple piece of plastic of which there are 1,000 iterations, but when I google "sun smiling face night-light" not a single one of them replicates the warmth and joy of the one I’d held onto for 15 years or so until that point. Somewhere around Ohio on that trip, I sat in the passenger seat crying and frantically tweaking my keywords trying to arrive at an eBay or Mercari result that would bring this night-light back to me.

The close quarters where some of the night-lights are on display ensure that visitors get a closer look.
Photo by David Sierra

I never did find a copy of that light, but an exhibition at New York Design Week offered several suitable alternatives. For their New York Design Week exhibition this year, which is up through June 26, Jonald Dudd partnered with gallery The Future Perfect to present original night-light designs from over 120 designers. The lights are displayed in The Future Perfect townhouse in the West Village, with half in the basement and the other half on an upper floor next to the stairwell. The darkness of the basement was particularly pleasing to me. It reminded me of the darkened Hall of Gems at the Natural History Museum (pre-renovation), the dim lighting making it feel like you’re actually discovering something—which in this case you are, assuming you don’t already have an encyclopedic knowledge of the American design scene.

Stefanie Haining’s 7-Eleven light offers a dose of nostalgia, while Nicholas Baker’s "Reading Man" conjures a sense of personality with just wire, clips, and paper.
Photos courtesy of Jonald Dudd

There’s an LED light covered in faux fur, resembling a radiant tail, by Studio Daae. A twee, striped wooden bow by Lauren Lauer. A snowglobe-like porcelain depiction of 7-Eleven by Stefanie Haining. Nino Chamber’s tiny poplin "Nightshirt" and Nicholas Baker’s "Reading Man" both put me in the mood for bedtime in the best way possible. I’ll admit my bias that there are several pieces by friends in the show too, including Sophie Collé whose hanging chains on "Deco Delight" I’m particularly charmed by, and my boyfriend Cooper Lovano’s "The Gnat and the Bull," a wood veneered piece that’s inspired by the Aesop’s Fable of the same. What I love about night-lights is the particular kind of intimacy you develop with them, given that they’re all you’re seeing in the hours when they serve their purpose. The oddity of most of these designs seems to honor that intimacy—even the relatively simple pieces give you something meaty enough to ponder night after night of use.

Cooper Lovano’s "The Gnat and the Bull" is inspired by an Aesop’s Fable. The curved aluminum and hanging chains lend Sophie Collé’s stationary "Deco Delight" a sense of movement.
Photos courtesy of the designers

See the full story on Dwell.com: NY Design Week’s Coolest Show Was a Feast of Night-Lights—And It’s Up for Two More Weeks
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From the Archive: Designing This Washington State Home Was an Exercise in Scaling Down

Homeowners Margo and Greg Plaunt originally had a 3,000-square-foot home in mind, but when their budget shifted, they pivoted to an 850-square-foot plan.

Welcome to From the Archive, a look back at stories from Dwell’s past. This story previously appeared in the July/August 2003 issue.

Five minutes after landing at the airport, I’m in a Seattle cliché: polar fleece, coffee, and a late-model Volkswagen. Chris Patano introduces me to the crowd in the car—his friend (and partner at the firm) Laura Hafermann, their friend Kevin Eckert, and Kevin’s friendly Labrador retriever, Daisy. We’re off to Whidbey Island, to tour the vacation house that Chris and Laura (as Patano Architects) designed, and Kevin (with partner Andrew van Leeuwen, as BuildLLC) built, for their mutual friends Greg and Margo Plaunt.

While Bainbridge Island is one of the most populous of Seattle’s commuter islands, Whidbey Island, about two hours by car and ferry northwest of the city, is the longest, with 148 miles of shoreline. From the interior, Whidbey feels like a Vermont lake town; a sparsely traveled highway wends through wooded marshlands dotted with farms and fraternal lodges. The Plaunts live near the middle of the island, not far from the eastern shore of south Whidbey, home to "artists, liberals, and wealthy retirees," according to Kevin.

We arrive at the 20-acre site after curving through a thicket of scraggly firs and crunching over scrub blown by last night’s windstorm. The Plaunt house was built with minimum insult to the landscape: Only four trees were removed for its dainty 425-square foot footprint and its 750-square-foot grass-crete patio. (Margo painstakingly planted moss in each of the pavers, which will eventually become an indestructible carpet of green.) Most of the land had once been inelegantly logged; Kevin hired local farmers (and half of the local high school) to clear man-high stands of thistle, which took a full four days to burn. He also hewed to a long list of local ecological ordinances (or, as Kevin deems it, "the outside-person tax"). A muddy, spring-fed puddle was declared a potential salmon habitat; on the day I visited, Daisy was bathing in it.

The Plaunt house is—at least to the architects—all about the view. "But it’s not about beating you over the head with it," says Chris, who left the iconic Seattle modernist firm Miller/Hull Partnership in 1999 to start his own firm (Laura left Miller/Hull soon after to join him). They explain the view as a series of layers: the swale leading away from the house, now planted with native grasses; Camano Island just across Puget Sound’s narrow Saratoga Passage; and the snowcapped Cascade Range in the distance.

From inside, the view is framed by a 20-foot-tall wall of windows edged in vertical-grain fir. Downstairs, a small stand of firs fits perfectly in the tall lower panes; upstairs, a door-sized unit, installed sideways, frames the misty peak of Mt. Baker. To understand why the Plaunts didn’t insist on an imposing, single sheet of floor-to-ceiling glass, you have to understand Seattle, where views are the coin of the real estate realm. You also have to understand the Plaunts.

Fourteen years ago, Greg was an art-school graduate from Detroit who found himself parking cars for a living. He wrote a rudimentary computer program for his bosses, and realized that it beat standing outside in the Seattle wet. His company now provides software to the insurance industry. "And this," Greg says, gesturing to his million-dollar view, "is one of the things I got in return."

When discussing the Whidbey site, the Plaunts speak of "the house" as one would a dear, departed relative. They refer not to this house but to the 3,000-square-foot structure originally planned for the land, a vertically oriented showplace with an even more commanding easterly view. But when the dot-com economy foundered—leaving Seattle feeling like a playground after recess—the Plaunts were forced to scale back.

With their grand plans on hold, the Plaunts wanted to "get to know the land." Soon after, however, they just wanted to get the hell out of the 119-square-foot shed Greg had built that served as the property’s only shelter. "I was tired of having to go to the state park to use the bathroom," recalls Margo.

The Plaunts settled on a cabin in the woods. When it came time to design it, Margo had a country-chic vision that Laura describes as "fields of lavender." Greg’s taste tends toward the modern, or at least its popularized incarnation—clean lines, geometric forms, everything neat, gridded, and square. The resulting structure works because it is a series of harmonious compromises.

See the full story on Dwell.com: From the Archive: Designing This Washington State Home Was an Exercise in Scaling Down
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Snap Up This $2M Bubble House Before It Floats Off the Market

Located in Pasadena, California, the concrete shell home is believed to be the last surviving Airform dwelling in the United States.

The property is widely recognized as the last surviving Wallace Neff Airform House in the U.S.

Location: 1097 South Los Robles Avenue, Pasadena, California

Price: $1,950,000

Architect: Wallace Neff

Year Built: 1947

Footprint: 1,204 Square Feet (2 Beds, 1 Bath)

From the Agent: "The Wallace Neff Shell House, carefully restored by its current owners with a commitment to preserving the integrity of Neff’s original architectural intent, remains a remarkably intact artifact of midcentury innovation. The two-bedroom dome dwelling unfolds as a study in organic geometry and spatial efficiency. Beneath the curved shell, a circular living area radiates from a central fireplace, flowing into the kitchen and adjoining bath. The property also includes an over-1,000-square-foot detached studio space, with submitted ADU plans in process with the city. This structure currently incorporates a large, open living space, a bath, and a separate bedroom. Further underscoring the property’s historic significance is a rare Airform-constructed bomb shelter, added in the ’60s, approximately 15 feet below the studio. Originally conceived in 1947, The Shell House stands today as the sole surviving example in the United States of Neff’s visionary Airform construction system. Also referred to as a ‘Bubble House’—a reinforced concrete construction, erected with an inflatable balloon and then sprayed with gunite—this experimental post-war housing concept fuses futurist engineering with sculptural domestic design."

The home is located on an approximately 9,000-square-foot corner lot.
Photo by Cameron Carothers

See the full story on Dwell.com: Snap Up This $2M Bubble House Before It Floats Off the Market
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At Lisbon Design Week, Designers From All Over Grappled With Portuguese Design’s Identity

Eighty exhibitions provided more than enough space for makers to reinterpret the country’s craft traditions—or offer a new vision entirely.

When I walked into Lisbon’s Palacete Gomes Freire—a 19th-century palace painted a pastel but punchy shade of yellow—the first thing that my eyes fell on were five wall sculptures made of what appeared to be straw. They hung above the landing of a grand split staircase, an organic, earthy rebuttal to a space that represented the architectural opulence of another era. I’d soon learn that these sculptures are made of bulrush, a tall grass that’s native to Portugal. A chair sitting to the left of the sculptures features a back made of the same material, spun into a nautilus-like swirl, but paired with a clean-lined galvanized iron frame and seat. Though the wall sculptures first attracted my attention, the Cadeira chair is where my eyes rested, called to the pairing of these contrasting materials.

The bunho technique used for Macheia’s Bulrush collection is a traditional Portuguese basketry method that only two artisans in Europe still practice, per the design studio.
Photo courtesy Lisbon by Design

The pieces are by Macheia, a studio led by Lucrezia Papillo and Iany Gayo, who are following in the craft traditions of the country they both now call home, but with a contemporary lens. (Papillo is Italian-German, and Gayo is from Mozambique, but is part Portuguese.) The designers worked with local artisans Manuel Ferreira and Paulo Sousa on the sculptures and Cadeira chair, specifically using the Portuguese bunho technique that’s historically been used for basketry. With these pieces they want to bring the technique to a new context and audience without watering down the organic beauty that’s inherent to the traditional craft.

For the Cadeira chair, Macheia founders Papillo and Gayo collaborated with a blacksmith and a bunho artisan.
Photo courtesy Lisbon by Design

The chair and sculptures are just one example of the direction the country’s design scene seems to be headed in. While its identity has long been wrapped up in centuries-old craft traditions like tilework and embroidery, at Lisbon By Design, or Lisbon Design Week, which runs concurrently with a total of 80 exhibitions featuring work by over 150 makers across 11 neighborhoods, it seemed that the country’s designers—whether native-born or immigrant—were grappling with how exactly to create a new era for the Portugal design scene without abandoning the country’s rich design history.

The work of Grau Ceramica was displayed alongside furniture by Martinho Pita Studio on the upper floor of the palace.
Photo courtesy Lisbon by Design

See the full story on Dwell.com: At Lisbon Design Week, Designers From All Over Grappled With Portuguese Design’s Identity
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Before & After: How a Couple Reimagined Their Minnesota Ranch House With Japanese Design Principles

"The goal was to look at things from 500, 700, 800 years ago that are still useful," says homeowner Wes Crouch. "Simple, purposeful spaces will always be in style."

Seeking a more comfortable, livable home isn’t always about square footage. Sometimes, it’s about pace and quality of life. For Wes and Tara Crouch, that realization took shape after living in Seattle for years. With the arrival of their third son, suburban Minneapolis—where Tara had grown up—began to feel like the right place to build a more grounded life close to family. "We had these lives to steward," Wes says. "The desire to be intentional about our home and the space we live in became important."

Before: Exterior

Before: Homeowners Wes and Tara Crouch were drawn to the practical design of the mid-1960s ranch in Saint Paul, Minnesota. "My grandfather built a house close to Seattle, and it was a brick ranch house," Wes says. "I always had fond memories of, gosh, this is highly functional…the fact that the main floor is the main floor."
Photo courtesy of Keep

That philosophy resonated deeply with Wes, who lived in Japan for three years early in his career as an operations manager for an apparel manufacturer. While there, he developed an appreciation for Japanese design and its emphasis on intentionality and restraint. "I loved the architecture and simplicity," he says, fondly recalling a coworker’s 16th-century house in the mountains with no electricity and no running water. "It’s where we would go hang out on the weekends."

After: Exterior

Excavating the lower level allowed the design team to install large windows facing a nature preserve and lake in Wes’s office. Although a handful of windows—including these—and the sliding glass doors off the main living area are new, most of the home’s existing windows were retained as part of the renovation.
Photo by Wing Ho

But the search for a home close to Tara’s family proved unexpectedly difficult. "Everything was a split-level or 5,000 or 7,000 square feet," Wes says with a laugh. "We didn’t need a sport court."

What they wanted wasn’t necessarily a larger house, but one that aligned more closely with how they hoped to live. "It was about quality over quantity—and something we could make our own that didn’t necessarily need to be perfect," Wes says.

The raised, covered porch is reminiscent of a Japanese <i>engawa</i>, a veranda-like transitional space that connects the home to the landscape. The renovation expanded views to the lake with new windows in the primary bedroom and bath, and sliders that replaced a standard solid door in the living area. — The raised, covered porch is reminiscent of a Japanese *engawa*, a veranda-like transitional space that connects the home to the landscape. The renovation expanded views to the lake with new windows in the primary bedroom and bath, and sliders that replaced a standard solid door in the living area.
Photo by Wing Ho

See the full story on Dwell.com: Before & After: How a Couple Reimagined Their Minnesota Ranch House With Japanese Design Principles
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Sliding Window Shields Adjust Sunlight at This Scottish Country Home

The batten louvers temper heat for a new dual-gable extension that expands the residence.

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.

Project Details:

Location: Aberdeenshire, Scotland

Architect: Moxon Architects / @moxonarchitects

Footprint: 1,185 square feet

Builder: Brudon Joinery

Structural Engineer: Graeme Craig Consulting Engineers

From the Architect: "Moxon Architects has completed an extension to a rural home near Sauchen in Aberdeenshire. The scheme is designed to enhance light, views, and connection to the surrounding agricultural landscape while significantly improving overall environmental performance. The project expands an existing high-performance house with a new living and dining space, office, a principal bedroom suite, and a new entry hallway. The newly created spaces are accommodated within two, single-story pitched-roof volumes, linked by a biodiverse green roof planted with native wildflowers, creating ecological continuity between old and new while strengthening the building’s relationship with the landscape. The resulting architectural composition recalls traditional farms, where the main house forms a tight cluster with a barn and other outbuildings.

"Generous glazing and carefully positioned roof lights align with key points of arrival and movement through the house, drawing daylight deep into the plan and framing long views across the surrounding fields. Beyond providing additional accommodation, the extension unlocks the existing plan, establishing uninterrupted lines of sight through the house and enhancing clarity of movement and space. Built-in storage and window seats complement the light-filled interior and offer the residents practicality and comfort.

"A cost-effective cladding strategy repurposes angled battens, typically used as support, reducing material processing while introducing subtle variation across the façade. Sliding external louvres, informed by nearby farm structures, provide solar shading to the large windows and help prevent overheating without compromising openness or views. A slate roof and galvanized trough-style gutters offer further contemporary reinterpretation of local building traditions.

"From the outset, performance and sustainability have been central to the project, which has been designed to Passive House standards, and which has raised the home’s EPC rating from B to A. High levels of insulation, triple-glazed south-facing windows, louvers, and mechanical ventilation with heat recovery and other services are integrated seamlessly into the architecture and work together to maximize comfort and minimize energy demand. Material selection prioritized low embodied carbon and local procurement, with the timber kit, doors, and bespoke plywood furniture fabricated within 10 miles of the site, supporting regional manufacturing and reducing transport emissions."

See the full story on Dwell.com: Sliding Window Shields Adjust Sunlight at This Scottish Country Home
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