Back in the 1940s, when Minnesota's movers and shakers wanted to build a rustic yet upscale cabin on the North Shore, their go-to guy was Edwin Lundie.

"He was the sought-after architect of the day," said Peter O'Toole, author of a recently published book about Lundie and his work.

The architect's cabins, country estates and city houses were distinguished by their Old World character — gables, beams, traditional materials and artisan details, such as hand-finished woodwork and forged hardware.

"His clients preferred traditional styles," said O'Toole, and Lundie delivered, designing stately Colonials and Tudors, quaint Cotswolds and Scandinavian-inspired lake homes.

Lundie was well respected throughout his long career, but today, his classic aesthetic doesn't carry the cachet enjoyed by some of his more modernist peers, including Frank Lloyd Wright.

"Everyone feels Lundie has been overlooked, overshadowed by the modern movement," O'Toole said. "There's no reverence given to the traditional architecture, but it still resonates with people."

Including O'Toole. He lives in an authentic Cape Cod that Lundie designed in 1937. It's smaller than the large homes Lundie designed for wealthy clients. Its original owner was a single woman, Kathryn Spink, executive secretary at First National Bank, who commissioned Lundie to design a modest home for her on a narrow lot in St. Paul. The house's footprint is just 856 square feet, but it's packed with signature Lundie features, including an oversized fireplace and built-ins.

"His floor plans were so efficient," marveled O'Toole. "He was the original 'Not So Big House' " architect, decades before Sarah Susanka popularized the term in her series of bestselling books.

'This little Lundie'

O'Toole and his spouse, Tim Schultz, discovered their home while house-hunting in 2003. "We saw this little Lundie house and got very excited," O'Toole recalled. Originally, the Cape Cod sat between two small cottages. Now it was flanked by two looming apartment buildings.

But it still had curb appeal, with its original curving front walkway, also designed by Lundie.

Inside, the main floor was in pristine condition, with hand-finished pine walls, walnut pegged floors, an alcove with scalloped wood trim and unique hardware, designed specifically for the home by Lundie.

"You feel like you're in the Colonial era," O'Toole said. "Lundie gave it a look of authenticity."

The kitchen still had its original wood countertops, sink and cupboards. (O'Toole and Schultz have since repainted the cabinets their original blue-green hue. "Kay [Spink] built the house with period colors," O'Toole said.)

Upstairs, however, the home didn't reflect Lundie's vision. Spink never finished the second floor, a project that a later owner undertook during the 1960s in the style of that era. Armed with Lundie's original blueprints, O'Toole and Schultz redid the staircase to Lundie's specifications, with white oak treads and knotty pine risers.

They restored the porch to its original look, replacing '60s paneling with cedar shakes, and adding a heated slate tile floor.

O'Toole also converted the original garage, built to house Spink's Model A Ford, into a studio for himself.

A book is born

Living in a Lundie home inspired O'Toole to write a book, "Edwin H. Lundie

The book covers Lundie's career, which began as an apprentice to Cass Gilbert, then a draftsman under Emmanuel Masqueray, working on the St. Paul Cathedral in 1915.

"He [Lundie] kept working until he died in 1972," O'Toole said. One of his last projects was the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum in Chaska, for which he designed the gate, the original Snyder building and the well house.

O'Toole, a retired financial analyst, had already published one book, "Paris Photos – Paris Walks," when he decided to tackle the Lundie topic.

"Once you've done one [book], you want to do another," he said. "For two years, I thought about what to do next. Then it just dawned on me: Why not Lundie? All the houses are local, so there's no traveling to Paris. He built in Minnesota pretty much exclusively."

O'Toole wanted to help give the "overlooked" architect his due. Lundie was "steeped in traditional styles," O'Toole noted. But as his career progressed, he added his own creativity to his projects, blending those traditional styles and adding unique touches, such as the distinctive hardware. "By the 1960s, he had a hard time finding blacksmiths. It was a dying trade."

Lundie was actually ahead of his time, in O'Toole's opinion. Many of the homes being built today draw from the timeless architectural styles that Lundie celebrated. "There's a new awareness of traditional, of going back to the original source," O'Toole said.

Knocking on doors

Living in a Lundie home gave O'Toole a leg up on researching his book. After buying their house, O'Toole and Schultz were invited to a Lundie cabin tour on the North Shore, where they met other Lundie homeowners. "It's kind of like a little club," O'Toole said.

Some of those homeowners helped O'Toole locate others, pointing him in the general direction of particular Lundie houses. "The North Shore was a nightmare, trying to find these cabins," O'Toole said. "I'd walk, see a chimney and know 'That's a Lundie.' I was knocking on doors. Some people didn't know they owned a Lundie home."

O'Toole also did a lot of archival research. Lundie kept records of all his commissions at his office in downtown St. Paul. After his death, his family donated his files to the Minnesota History Center; they're currently housed at the Elmer Andersen Library at the University of Minnesota. "The U said I broke the record for visits," O'Toole said.

He strove to create a book that was "in the spirit of Lundie," featuring local craftsmanship, a heavy cloth cover and high-quality paper. (It's available at Common Good Books, the Walker Art Center and the Arboretum.)

After living in his Lundie for more than a dozen years, O'Toole has developed a deep appreciation for its solid construction and fine craftsmanship.

"The best thing about living in a Lundie? You're in his design, surrounded by the detail," he said. "It's almost like living in a piece of well-crafted furniture. It's inspiring and stimulates creativity."

Kim Palmer • 612-673-4784

@stribkimpalmer