The panelized CLT build also means the first level doesn’t have any interior walls.
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: "Here skin, structure, and space are formed simultaneously. Built from structural and zoning constraints, a new construction is placed on top of existing foundations and is limited to the maximum allowable height. As such, the design grew out of the original coastal dune house foundation—an asymmetrical cruciform geometry where each structural bay of the cruciform created a ‘house of cards.’
"Each triangular bay was unique in geometry and prefabricated from CLT panels. Over the course of three days, the CLT panels were brought on-site, delivered onto the sand itself, hoisted up as four chapels, and bridged together via an off-center geometry. The result is a primary level free of structure, with each chapel as an expressed room.
"The project envelope considers the larger impression of the house as an abstract volume and is built as a timber rain screen of chemically seasoned Douglas fir battens. The roof, considered a facade element due to the steep pitch, uses the same timber batten construction technique as vertical surfaces. Assemblies and details carry forth the abstraction holistically: timber battens were prefabricated to avoid visible screws or nails and streamline construction on-site, while gutters and drainage elements are concealed behind the rain screen with minimal impact on the exterior surface.
"The project’s fusing of structure and volume is expressed explicitly; the CLT serves directly as interior finish. In the primary level living area, four CLT floor panels express the structural bays in the ceiling. On the upper level, the CLT panels remain exposed in the pitched chapels of bedrooms and the central hall, demonstrating the full extent of the triangular structural bays. Interior elements continue to highlight the opportunity that the column-free prefabricated CLT structure allows; a central staircase floats in the space, suspended within a wood floor grid spanning between the CLT bays. Within the house is a Type D central ventilation system with heat recovery and rainwater collection and re-use.
"The geometry of the house is reminiscent of historical beach house architecture in the area characterized by steep roof angles. The dune landscape was restored, with concrete retaining walls carving obliquely for pedestrian and car access to the house’s subterranean level. This site context, and the restrictions of the existing foundation, steered both the structural and architectural logic of the project."
The midcentury home of Murray Gell-Mann features a copper-clad fireplace, colored-glass panels, and big exposed beams—and it’s one of architect William E. Blurock’s few residential designs.
Location: 1024 Armada Drive, Pasadena, California
Price: $4,599,000
Footprint: 5,307 square feet (5 beds, 5 baths)
Lot Size: 0.32 acres
Year Built: 1956
Architect: William E. Blurock
From the Listing: "Believed to be one of only a few private homes ever designed by William E. Blurock, this striking residence is quietly tucked behind mature landscaping within Pasadena’s storied, National Register–listed Prospect Historic District. The five-bedroom, five-bathroom home is anchored by an aspirational reverse floor plan that lifts the main gathering spaces to the upper level, which has soaring living-room ceilings, a copper-clad fireplace, and a bespoke midcentury light fixture stretching the entire length of the living room that washes the interiors in a welcoming, warm light. A dramatic open-plan stairway becomes a sculptural centerpiece for the home, animated by inset colored-glass panels and highlighted by cork flooring and an architectural railing wrapped in wood. Below, the floor plan opens around a zen-style garden and an expansive pool, with a private pool house/guest studio completing a resort-like retreat built for modern California living. Flagstone, stucco, and a subdued facade let the house blend in effortlessly among the district’s Craftsman and period-revival landmarks. The home carries a remarkable provenance as the longtime residence of Nobel Prize–winning physicist Murray Gell-Mann, who lived here during his most creative years at Caltech. The scientist who named the "quark" and reorganized our understanding of the building blocks of matter found his home in a house designed, quite literally, to lift its inhabitants toward the light and the view."
The home is located on the edge of the Arroyo Seco, a piece of protected parkland in Pasadena, California.
Photo by Michael McNamara
William E. Blurock’s architecture firm worked on a number of landmark civic and educational buildings around the word.
Neighbors are convinced the famous Los Angeles home is falling apart. The owners don’t seem to know what they’re talking about.
Roughly a dozen years ago, if you walked up the steep incline of North Skyewiay Road in the upscale Brentwood Heights neighborhood of West Los Angeles, you might have seen Jack Larson’s dog sprawled on the deck of the actor’s brick-and-wood home soaring over a steep embankment. The richly-colored redwood structure leaned over a hilly yard ringed in ivy, and Dewey, a white shepherd, loved to lounge in the sunshine on what resembled the prow of a ship.
While the home, the Frank Lloyd Wright-designed Sturges House, was always considered a source of neighborhood pride, today, its condition and future are being called into question. Many neighbors have worried in recent years that it’s entered a state of disrepair, and some have even said they’ve seen coyotes on the grounds, though those claims have not been independently verified.
The Los Angeles Conservancy placed the home on its 2026 watchlist for endangered buildings and starting in late August, a series of stories about the state of the home, especially an Artnet piece, explained how the home, an official Historical-Cultural Monument (HCM), was at risk of what’s called "demolition by neglect." The Artnet piece and a number of additional stories raised the tenor of concern about the architectural marvel, one of eight in Wright’s exceptional Greater L.A. body of work, including the Hollyhock House, a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
But the current owners of the home vehemently deny that the home is in some state of decay or poor maintenance. The property was purchased during an auction in 2016 by the All Right Now Foundation, a nonprofit set up by a group interested in preserving the home that includes Robert Brisco, CEO of online publisher Internet Brands. Foundation lawyer Wendy Giberti says the claims made by neighbors are all categorically untrue and defamatory. Why would a foundation spend millions of dollars to buy and maintain a property if they didn’t want to take care of it? "I can tell you there has been a considerable investment in the property," says Giberti. "The idea that we are being neglectful is a little bit insulting."
When I walked on the sidewalks on the perimeter of the property on September 29, it was ringed with a number of signs declaring the site private and the cantilevered, wooden portion of the residence showed its age. The wood looked weathered, and in a handful of spots, small gaps were visible between the planks.
Neighbors of the Frank Lloyd Wright’s Sturges House in Los Angeles say that the home is falling into disrepair. Photos from this year show a piece of the decking coming apart.
Photo by Daniela Velazco/L.A. Conservancy (left); photo courtesy Patrick Sisson (right)
When asked about the foundation’s investments, Giberti pointed to regular gardening and repair, an on-site caretaker, and "large expenditures, including planning for what is to come next and making sure the building stays safe until such time as a larger project is going to be undertaken." A statement from the foundation on September 2 also mentions "regular maintenance, upkeep, and inspections by licensed experts, including structural engineers, waterproofers, electricians, and plumbers."
This situation—preservationists and neighbors raising concerns that private owners of a historic property aren’t living up to their public duty, and the owners pointing out that they’re following the law and it’s nobody else’s business—isn’t unique. Preservationists have criticized Los Angeles’s preservation laws for lacking teeth and clear enforcement powers. As Barbara Gordon, executive director of the Frank Lloyd Wright Building Conservancy, sees it, preservationists feel their hands are tied if ownership doesn’t meet the public’s expectations for conservation. "How do you enforce preservation rules moving forward if all the owners are getting small fines?" says Gordon. "How do you enforce it at a larger scale? Because I think it's not just this building. This is one of many."
Other such examples of landmark homes suffering from what preservationists have deemed insufficiently dedicated owners include the Walser House in Chicago, another Wright design, which entered a period of disrepair after the owner passed away, and the Wattles Mansion in Los Angeles, a Hollywood mansion that was at one point falling apart due to disrepair and poor city ownership. "It’s more common than not in L.A. because the consequences are just not stringent, unfortunately," says Jaime Rummerfield, an interior designer and cofounder of the preservation nonprofit Save Iconic Architecture. "People get a slap on the wrist."
All Right Now Foundation purchased the Sturges House in 2016 for approximately $1.85 million. The foundation, based in nearby El Segundo, California, won an auction held after Larson’s death in 2015; Larson and director James Bridges bought the house in 1967 from the original owners, Lockheed engineer George Sturges and his wife, Selma, who had commissioned Wright to design a home for them in 1938. Designed by Wright with construction supervised by architect John Lautner, the Sturges House was built around the same time as Fallingwater, and is recognized as a striking example of cantilevered architecture and Wright’s Usonian residential style.
The home sits in the Brentwood Heights neighborhood and was built in 1939.
The foundation, according to Giberti, remains committed to maintaining the home, who adds that it will always, primarily, be a residence. "It’s not going to be a museum or open to the public or any of those other things," she says. The website maintained by the foundation has a Tours section, but it remains blank except for a single photo (it also recently posted a number of interior photos marked fall 2026). Architect Joshua Moratto, who was listed as a member of the foundation’s board in its 2024 tax return, declined to comment on the story. (On his Instagram, there are a pair of posts from last year partially captioned with "an addition to an Usonian").
The foundation has yet to announce its plans, despite more than a decade of ownership, and in the same September 2 statement the foundation sent to media, noted that the board, which "consists of private citizens who prefer to focus their resources quietly on the work of preservation rather than engaging in public debate," were still coming up with a long-term plan for the property. The statement went on to say the issues with the wooden exterior were "cosmetic," and that the "functional condition has improved from when it was acquired."
So far, according to Gordon, the foundation hasn’t reached out to the Frank Lloyd Wright Building Conservancy. That’s odd, says Gordon; the community tends to be tight-knit, and the nonprofit can offer extensive resources around the restoration and maintenance challenges of Wright’s work.
Giberti argues that it’s simply nobody else’s business but ownership. "It has been our experience that when they are left in the dark or feel they’re not getting information that they think they’re entitled to, they resort to other means," she says, in reference to what she calls disgruntled neighbors who have complained about the foundation’s work. "I can’t control their desire to be involved, or their desire to control, especially the timeline. But they have made it clear they intend to continue attempting to insert themselves into the process, and I will continue to insist they shall not be inserted into the process."
According to the Los Angeles Department of Building and Safety (LADBS), the home was issued what’s called an "order to comply" on August 24, which directed the owners of the building to repair and maintain the existing wood balcony and the existing historical building. A LADBS spokesperson said "the related portions of the building have been deemed unsafe." The property is still listed as "under investigation" on the department’s website and the spokesperson reiterated on October 5 that the issue hasn’t been resolved.
Giberti says the foundation paid the requisite $300 fine, that the basis for that complaint was a "drive-by by an inspector," and that they obtained a structural engineering report saying it wasn’t unsafe, and was "probably more safe than what current code is for new homes." She said the deck is structurally sound, the report that says so was provided to a city inspector, and assumes the issue is resolved. (Numerous attempts to contact the city inspector listed on the LADBS site have been unsuccessful).
Some neighbors have repeatedly complained about the state of the house, arguing that what they call disrepair and desertion is a safety issue. Nearby resident Lisa Chadwick, who reached out to Gordon, sent images to local media, and has brought up the building’s conditions to the city and L.A. councilmember Traci Park, believes that more pressure is the only thing that will get the owner to do something. "I think the more attention it gets, the more pressure he’s going to have, either to sell it or to do something," Chadwick says.
The residence, pictured here in 1962, is an example of Wright’s Usonian style homes.
The first episode of his "Minecraft" YouTube series, which has gone viral, reveals some surprisingly considered interior design decisions.
The private lives of professional football players have long been their own spectator sport. Their faces populate advertisements, their relationships make headlines, and their extracurricular pursuits attract nearly as much attention as their performances on the field. But what about their coaches? Unless you’re former Patriots honcho Bill Belichick, it’s rare you get a spotlight off the field.
But in September, former Pittsburgh Steelers coach Mike Tomlin became another unlikely exception. He released the first episode of his own YouTube series, giving the world wide web a tour of an elaborate city he’s spent the last 12 years building—in Minecraft. Naturally, the internet exploded. The popular video game, which launched in 2009 and lets players build open-ended worlds, commented under a video on its own YouTube channel, "i'm honored to be here coach [two-hands-raised emoji]". Barstool Sports joked on X, "Imagine drinking beers with the fellas in the Mike Tomlin Minecraft speakeasy." Former Steelers running back Le’Veon Bell was less impressed, posting, "we were tryna win super bowls and coach T was on minecraft building cities [loudly-crying-face emoji]."
Former Pittsburgh Steelers coach Mike Tomlin has spent hours building cities in Minecraft. This one started around a body of water.
Screenshot: Mike Tomlin/YouTube
Tomlin spent 19 seasons at the helm of the Steelers, winning a Super Bowl and never recording a losing season, before stepping down in January of this year. For much of his professional life, he was an authority in one of the most scrutinized jobs in professional sports. But in Minecraft, which he started playing as a proverbial rookie more than a decade ago, he’s been able to quietly hone is craft, mining iron ore, evading exploding monsters (a.k.a creepers), and, yes, designing buildings.
When his kids were in middle school they were obsessed with the game. First released in 2009, players Tomlin says he began by watching them play, fascinated by what could hold their attention for such long stretches of time. He eventually picked up a PlayStation controller and started a city of his own. At some point, his kids lost interest. He did not. "I started small and, of course, over the course of 12 years, you develop neighborhoods and communities," he says in the video.
Tomlin designed an apartment building that features an aquarium on every level.
Screenshot: Mike Tomlin/YouTube
In the nearly 20-minute first installment, ROOFTOPS, PENTHOUSES, AND URBAN LIVING [sic], Tomlin starts with the first building he ever built: a "boutique hotel" on a bay. Just off the lobby is the "executive spa"; across the way, a multipurpose space doubles as both a conference room and ballroom. And then there’s the basement: a stone-walled speakeasy whose pièce de résistance is a window looking into the swimming pool.
For all the fantasy Minecraft affords, Tomlin is equally attentive to the less glamorous side of running a hotel. The speakeasy has a kitchen and employee work area; elsewhere, men’s and women’s restrooms are complete with sinks and stalls, even if the game requires none of it. Unlike The Sims, Minecraft isn’t built around the logistics of human habitation. In Survival Mode—where players must source food and fend off zombies—nobody needs a toilet. And he doesn’t belabor the point: his bathrooms are relatively spare, not an excuse for some aesthetics-driven folly. "I was always really conscious of appropriate amenities," he says.
But Tomlin’s concern for realism goes beyond imposing real-world requirements on imaginary buildings. Some design problems, like lighting, are actually real within the game. "I was really lighting conscious," he says, explaining that when he started the city, illuminating interiors was a challenge. He added the glass ceiling in the hotel’s conference room mainly to let in light and "less for the architectural component of it." Down in the windowless speakeasy, he used Glowstone—Minecraft’s conspicuous, light-emitting block—not because he likes the look (he doesn’t), but because lighting, to him, is just that important.
Tomlin’s vision doesn’t begin and end with a collection of show-stopping structures with empty interiors, as many often do. From the get-go, he had a larger plan: a densely populated urban center, with high-rises clustered around bodies of water. (It’s unclear in the video if his city includes a football stadium, though there is an "MLS soccer stadium" and a baseball field.) Sometimes that required reshaping Minecraft’s randomly generated terrain. "I’d have to blow up mountains and hills and so forth and redevelop land around it," he says. "I would work areas around bodies of water and then over time the areas grew together." It’s actually a natural approach to urban planning; waterways, after all, have been shaping cities since ancient Mesopotamia and Egypt.
Tomlin walks us through his design decisions for one of the aquarium apartments.
Helen & Hard Architects digitally scanned spruce trees to precision mill them into structural elements that resemble their original forms.
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: "The site is defined by the vast horizon over the Atlantic Ocean; the dark, and rough, rocky landscape descending toward the sea; and the untouched natural vegetation in the rear part of the property. Our aim was to create an architecture that connects these distinct landscape zones while establishing a strong relationship with the site’s inherent qualities.
"Four rows of tree-like columns open out in a fan-shaped formation, framing a long horizontal opening toward the western sea horizon. The cantilevered roof beams meet pairwise in the center and are tensioned between pairs of tree columns. They create a horizontal opening more than 29-feet long toward the sea, while simultaneously forming a narrow vertical window and an entrance oriented toward the morning sun and the green natural garden.
"Another important source of inspiration was the Norwegian tradition of boat building, which dates back to the Viking Age. In this tradition, the naturally grown connection between trunk and root was used to stiffen the rib structures of wooden boats. In the project, entire tree trunks including their roots are used to reinforce the connections between columns and beams, while also creating an organic interior space and a wave-like roof scape. The spruce trees were excavated, cleaned, dried, and digitally scanned. Based on these scans, digital models were developed and used to program robotic fabrication processes. The robots then milled precisely fitted brackets directly from the roots. The timber structure creates a spatial rhythm, intimacy, and a sense of protection against the open and rugged surrounding landscape. At the same time, it evokes the feeling of being immersed in nature beneath a canopy of trees.
"As the glazing wraps continuously around the entire building, light, shadows, and atmosphere constantly change throughout the day, the seasons, and shifting weather conditions. In addition, the organic timber structure integrates partitions, doors and windows, shelving, seating, stairs, and lighting. The construction therefore invites interaction, exploration, and engagement with the space. The result is the impression that all elements are interwoven into a holistic spatial experience.
"The funnel-shaped main space is flanked by two lateral zones: the kitchen on one side and two workspaces on the other. One of these workspaces is positioned on a half-level above the living room with a bathroom located beneath it. Although the cabin is perceived as one continuous space, these side zones create spatial depth and a rich sequence of spatial experiences.
"Another important objective was to embed the cabin gently into the rocky landscape. For this reason, the roof was shaped to follow the natural topography, while a protective base was constructed from the same stone material found on the site itself. Resting on this massive stone plinth is the tree-like timber structure."
Denver chef Justin Cucci was attracted to the Santa Fe area house because of its "special energy," so when it came time to renovate, the design team worked to keep its sense of history alive.
Welcome to How They Pulled It Off, where we take a close look at one particularly challenging aspect of a home design and get the nitty-gritty details about how it became a reality.
Having transformed a mortuary, a brothel, and a gas station into popular restaurants, Justin Cucci isn’t one to let a building’s past define its future. So when the Denver-based chef and founder of the hospitality group Edible Beats saw a former spiritual retreat near Santa Fe that featured circular living spaces crowned with domes, and arches and nichos—that is, wall recesses that are traditionally used for displaying crosses or figures of saints—hand-painted with Tibetan motifs, he knew he’d found the perfect mountain getaway for his family. "I don’t know exactly how it had been used, but there were Buddhist paintings and artworks and a lot of outdoor zones with unique touches," he says. "Though it was outdated, and we didn’t know if we had the appetite to spend the time, energy and money to do it, the bones and the energy around it felt really special, and it felt like there was better feng shui hidden in the layout."
Justin and his wife, Denielle Nadeau, asked architect Douglas Eichelberger and interior designer Chandler Prewitt to help them bring cohesion to the interior. As plans to convert a glassed-in, ground-floor garden room into a primary suite were underway, Prewitt and Justin worked together to create an open kitchen and dining area upstairs. They found creative ways to incorporate architectural salvage and colorful slag glass along with recycled bottles from Justin’s restaurants into the redesign. "We elevated what was there into a kind of modern Earthship," Prewitt explains, referencing the sustainable houses Michael Reynolds developed in Taos in the 1970s.
The domed living room was one of the features that drew homeowner Justin Cucci to the house. "I was thinking something urban or midcentury, and Chandler helped balance that by bringing in some traditional New Mexican architecture," he says. "We found a happy balance."
Photo by Jenna Peffley
How they pulled it off: Reimagining a spiritual retreat as a vacation home
Making sense of a round kitchen: Since the kitchen and the dining area had been awkwardly separated by a partial wall, Prewitt and Justin envisioned an open plan that would be more welcoming as well as functional, given that Justin is a professional chef. "We had to create a model of the room and get specific measurements of the curves and the dome overhead because the room wasn’t a perfect circle," Prewitt says. Given the challenges of fabricating curved cabinets, the designer took the concept drawings to a cabinetmaker who had experience doing yacht interiors. For the kitchen floor, Prewitt and Justin considered five or six different tile layouts before they found one they liked. "It’s really unique and seemingly random," notes Prewitt.
Once awkwardly divided into two spaces by a partial wall, the kitchen-dining room is now open and welcoming, while functioning at a high level for a professional chef. The tile for the kitchen floor is from Pratt + Larson. In the sitting area at left is an Ergofocus gas fireplace via European Home and a Vestaboard programmable artwork.
Photo by Jenna Peffley
Prewitt designed the dining banquette, which was built by Wood Design, and stained the floors black. "We sanded down and cleaned the existing wood, did a stain of India ink and then we sealed it," he says. "It’s not a normal stain."
From the Agent:"Designed by Lorenzo Guzzini Architecture between 2021 and 2024, this 125-square-meter home in Tavernerio, just outside Como, grew out of a close dialogue between the architect and its owners —and from an unusually complex site crossed by a stream.
Rather than treating the constraints of the land as obstacles, Guzzini made them part of the architecture. The house occupies a long, narrow footprint, responding directly to the topography and to the traces of what was already there—including the remains of an old garage and an abandoned chicken coop.
The result is a compact, site-specific building arranged entirely on a single level. Its elongated form follows the landscape, connecting the interiors with the surrounding vegetation and the water running beneath and alongside the property.
Inside, the plan accommodates four bedrooms and two bathrooms, with living spaces conceived as a sequence rather than as isolated rooms. Materials are deliberately restrained, allowing texture, light, and the changing character of the landscape to define the atmosphere of the house.
Elements recovered from the site and materials allowed to weather and oxidize naturally reinforce the sense that the building belongs to its setting rather than simply occupying it. Though its architecture is contemporary, much of the house’s character comes from the way it responds to what was already there.
The property is currently offered for sale at €690,000 and includes approximately 2,890 square meters of land and three parking spaces.
For a house this specific, the transition to a new owner does not necessarily mean the end of its architectural story. Narrow House grew out of the relationship between client and architect, and Lorenzo Guzzini remains available to continue that dialogue with a future owner.
Rather than treating the house as a finished object, the architect is open to helping complete unfinished elements and working with a new owner on materials, doors, finishes, and other details, while preserving the spatial concept that defines the project.
In that sense, buying Narrow House means acquiring not only an existing piece of architecture, but also the possibility of continuing its evolution with the architect who conceived it."
Designed by Lorenzo Guzzini Architecture between 2021 and 2024, Narrow House is a 1,345-square-foot home in Tavernerio, Italy, in the hills just outside Como. The property sits above a stream on the edge of a wooded valley. Viewed from the street, the flat roof is covered in stone and pebbles. The approach descends through the site toward the courtyard and house below.
Photo by Alessio Fantinato / Mooves Studio
Photo by Alessio Fantinato / Mooves Studio
At the center of the elongated plan, the inner courtyard sits between the home’s narrow interior spaces and the surrounding forest and stream.
