Modern Modernist

Behind an unassuming exterior (save for a three-car garage) lies a contemporary masterpiece designed by Luke Ogrydziak and Zoë Prillinger

Modern architecture has always been a hard sell in San Francisco. Witness the hue and cry over Herzog and de Meuron’s pierced-copper design for the de Young Museum (now considered a success) and Rem Koolhaas’s airy steel facade for a Prada store (never built, due to the double whammy of 9/11 and the dot-com implosion). Nowhere is the opposition to modern design more intense than in the city’s close-knit neighborhoods, where the very mention of a contemporary house brings forth the residents, en masse, calling meetings and waving petitions. As one embittered homeowner said, “My neighbors didn’t know the difference between International Style and the International House of Pancakes.”
As a result, the building permit process is often long and agonizing, and further complicated by the fact that new construction generally requires the razing of an old building or constructing on a precipitous lot that would be considered unbuildable in less hilly, less crowded communities.

Nevertheless, it does happen occasionally that a modern house is completed. One example is the residence called the T-house, which clings to a steep hillside south of Noe Valley. (The T refers to the shape of the home, whose rectangular lot has a small area of flat ground on top, then widens as it drops dramatically down the hill.)

The street-facing facade of the house—a 2006 American Institute of Architecture, East Bay, merit award winner—is fairly modest and opaque, giving little hint of the 5,700-square-foot edifice behind. (This being San Francisco, the most astonishing aspect of the front of the house is the three-car garage and the motor court for nine additional cars.) It is only once you are inside that you become aware of the horizontal expanse of Frank Jernigan and Andrew Faulk’s home. Walls of floor-to-ceiling glass reveal a 180-degree view that sweeps from the northeast through downtown’s jagged skyline and south past Monster Park and the Bay shore; distant views of the East Bay are visible in the background. The house is, essentially, a panoramic lens.

The top floor is comprised mainly of an entrance hall and two spacious decks, one with a spa and one displaying sculpture. An open staircase leads down to the living area. Although this floor contains the living room, dining room, kitchen, a media room, and an outside terrace, there are few walls. The architects even added a couple of columns to define the living room. “We didn’t really need the pillars structurally,” explains Luke Ogrydziak, AIA, who
designed the house with his partner Zoë Prillinger, “but we used them to define the space and give it a certain scale, as well as a sense of intimacy.”

“One of the nicest surprises about the house was that the space turned out to be such a perfect setting for benefit concerts,” says Jernigan. Eighty chairs fit into the room without a problem when jazz pianist Fred Hersch gave a performance, spotlighted against the glittering lights of the city.

Down one more level, the rooms include two bedroom suites and two art studios: one for Jernigan, a former software engineer who is now studying painting, the other for Faulk, a retired physician turned artist whose broken-glass works are exhibited at Linda Fairchild Contemporary Art. Both studios open out on a narrow slice of lawn bordered by small trees.
Both men had to adjust to living in such a large and open house; each had moved from a smaller, older residence in San Francisco. On the day they moved in, Faulk found himself sitting in one of the house’s smallest spaces, a low-ceilinged inglenook in front of the second-floor fireplace. “Frank found me sitting here on one of the benches and said, ‘Why are you sitting there?’ I said, ‘I’m not used to so much wide open space,’ ” Faulk recalls.
Although their first instinct was to put up window coverings, the pair soon realized that the house, for all its exposure and glass, is fairly distant from other windows around them. Now they delight in the ever-changing views. “I never thought I would live in a place where I could watch fireworks displays without getting out of bed,” Faulk says with a grin. “Last Fourth of July, I counted 10 different displays.”

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