Modern, minimal and at home with nature

A bold, award-winning house in Deephaven looks nothing like its neighbors but still manages to fit right in.

June 17, 2008 at 10:53PM
Kevin Streeter's very modern, AIA award-winning house in Deephaven features a unique design: shared common spaces topped by two separate bedroom cubes, one for him, one for his young-adult son. The home was designed by architect David Salmela.
Kevin Streeter's very modern, AIA award-winning house in Deephaven features a unique design: shared common spaces topped by two separate bedroom cubes, one for him, one for his young-adult son. The home was designed by architect David Salmela. (Star Tribune/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

A pair of silvery cubes floating atop a base of black concrete might sound out of place in the stately, leafy enclave of Deephaven.

But architect David Salmela and homeowner/builder Kevin Streeter think their collaboration couldn't be a more natural fit for its woodsy setting.

"Even though it's bold, it doesn't shout at you; it nestles in the trees," Salmela said. "It's not a barking dog. It's a resting, very gentle animal."

Salmela's gentle animal is getting lots of strokes. The quirky home with the quiet demeanor has made a big splash in design circles, picking up several prizes, including the American Institute of Architects (AIA) 2008 Housing Award.

The house may be "brilliantly designed," in the words of the AIA jury, but to Streeter, it's just home, one that fits his lifestyle and priorities like bark on a trunk.

"When you're in the house, you feel like you're part of the outdoors," he said. "In most houses, I feel claustrophobic."

His open, glass-walled main floor offers a panoramic view of wetland and wildlife that changes from nesting wood ducks in spring to russet oaks and golden basswoods in the fall. "Winter gets long, although it's kind of neat when it's snowing and it looks like you're out in the middle of a snowstorm," he said.

And those distinctive cubes serve a practical purpose, housing a second-floor owner's suite and a separate, slightly smaller guest suite. Salmela designed them that way to provide privacy and separation for Streeter and his young-adult son, who still visits and was living with him when the house was built.

"Normally, you'd jam those boxes together, but it was a symbolic gesture. He wasn't a kid," Salmela said.

The two suites also interact with their natural setting in a unique way. Both have balconies overlooking the wetland, enclosed by narrow slats that partition the view -- but allow in the sounds of frogs, birds and crickets.

"We thought a lot about that," Salmela said. "The normal thing would be, 'Why cover that view?' The reason was to create a space that was unexpected, with serenity and privacy. You can still see out, but through the slats, like op-art. It's altered in a way to make it more mysterious. No one can see you but you can see them. It's a pretty interesting effect."

'Unbuildable lot'

The home's nature-rich setting was formerly considered an unbuildable lot. Streeter, partner with Streeter & Associates, bought it as part of a larger parcel that his company intended to develop. Instead, he and his brother ended up keeping the land. And Streeter began to see possibilities in the narrow piece of grass nestled between the pond and the wetland.

So he contacted Salmela, whom he hadn't met before but who is known for his innovative, modern designs. They walked the site together. "I told him the size and space I wanted," Streeter recalled.

Salmela was intrigued. "The site was restricted, but rather idyllic," he said. "Those are the sites I like. It has wetland no one can build on, so you have protection. The site was perceived to be difficult because it hadn't been built on before, but it really wasn't."

Because the lot was set far back from the street, one of the biggest challenges was figuring out how to access it -- "and where to put the garage, so it's not the first thing you experience," Salmela said.

He tucked the garage entrance at the back of the house, creating a courtyard effect, and designed a separate sauna/guest house behind the garage. "It's like a little village," he said.

The house itself is a compact 2,200 square feet, with 300 feet more in the guest house. Simplicity and sustainability were important to Streeter, a former carpenter who grew up on a farm near Hector, Minn.

"I've always loved Japanese architecture," said Streeter. "The insides of their structures are so simple and livable. Before 'green' became a pop catchword, I always believed things should be as simple, durable and local as they could be."

Reduce, reuse, recycle

The home's modular kitchen cabinets, by green manufacturer Valcucine, are from Italy, as are a few pieces of leather furniture, he said, but "everything else is local."

Many of the materials also are recycled, including the big black concrete blocks, which are made from fly ash, a waste product from coal-burning plants. Part of the structure is clad in recycled cypress wood, salvaged from old pickle vats, Streeter said. And Salmela designed a coffee table made from a reclaimed warehouse beam.

The open main floor doesn't have "rooms," but spaces designed to accommodate different activities. If he had to pick a favorite, Streeter said, he'd probably pick the dining area. "The view is great. But every spot has a different view. I'll move my computer around to different places so I can see them all."

He knows his house is extremely modern and minimalist by Minnesota standards, so he didn't expect all the positive attention it's received. "The amount of interest in this house is kind of overwhelming," he said. "Most people wouldn't want this. Most people want something more traditional."

At an open house, several neighbors who had watched the house take shape told him they were pleasantly surprised by the finished product. "They were amazed," Streeter said. "Even old ladies who you wouldn't think would like modern architecture really seem to like it."

The secret of its appeal is the way it integrates with its surroundings -- without copying its neighbors, according to Salmela. "When you do boldness, you have to be gentle about it, the way it sits on the land," he said. "It's far more powerful and fitting than if you tried to mimic something around it. That would be an obvious, self-conscious move, like an adolescent who is trying to fit in and instead stands out like a sore thumb."

Awards are nice, but they're a byproduct, not a goal, Salmela said. "We don't design things to win awards. We design things to be great. If things do become great, they probably will win awards." And in the case of Streeter's home, it became clear during construction that they were creating something special. "As it materialized, we were pretty excited," Salmela said. "We saw the honesty of the house. It was pretty dramatic."

Streeter was a fan from the beginning. "I liked [Salmela's] vision of the site. I believed in what he was doing," he said. "A lot of clients would not be brave enough to do this without seeing it." But Streeter's glad he took the risk.

"People sell their lives short not having an interesting place to live," he said. "They could have more interesting homes than they do."

Kim Palmer • 612-673-4784

about the writer

Kim Palmer

Reporter, Editor

Kim Palmer is editor/reporter for the Homes section of the Star Tribune. Previous coverage areas include city government, real estate and arts and entertainment 

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