It's A Smash -- In This Greenwood Flat, There's Only One House Rule: It's Gotta Be Fun

"IF YOU LOVE cool stuff, you have to have space."

It's a rather low-key introduction to the 2,000 square feet of commercial-district fantasyland that appears like magic at the end of that long, deep-blue hallway. But Harper Welch and his partner Marc Clements are rather restrained when it comes to their collective obsessions.

After all, there's a limit to how many stuffed animals they'll allow under their roof (one fully grown, fully upright lion given Welch by his safari-addicted childhood nanny is enough, thank you). And there's only one shiny fire-engine red 1940s O'Keefe & Merritt stove (purchased from a Little Nickel advertiser who insisted on interviewing the couple to make sure they'd give his prized possession a good home before he'd sell).

They also drew the line when it a came to displaying their not-so-insubstantial collection of concrete Gothic Revival cornice blocks. Rescued from an uncertain church-renovation fate, some now serve as the base for a kitchen-work "altar." The other 150 or so blocks purchased from the downtown First Methodist Church are stored in the flat's additional 5,000 square feet of basement work space, just in case they get another big idea.

In the same vein, their extensive collection of 1950s and '60s furniture and tableware tastefully lines the full length of the flat's 50-by-15-foot main living area.

Of course, the dimly lit, Chinese-red master bedroom with its sparkling elephant blanket from India and smoke-tinged Singapore bathhouse doors may be a bit over the top, but who's perfect in their discretion?

Likewise a dismantled, then reassembled, set from the popular television show "Northern Exposure." It's currently the private preserve of 14-year old Seth, Welch's son from a previous marriage. Only slightly more tame is the handpainted harlequin dreamscape that serves as the bedroom backdrop for Clements' 15-year-old daughter, Tessa. So do the kids ever express the desire for a beige split-level in the suburbs?

"There was a time when they longed to fit in and be little more normal," says Clements, "but now they get a lot of strokes from their friends who covet and not-so-secretly envy all this."

What's "at home" is the runoff of the couple's all-consuming and successful business interest. As the owners and main dream-force behind Smash Design, Welch and Clements create and build award-winning, one-of-a-kind interior environments and installations for restaurants, specialty stores and museums across the country. Locally, they won praise for the imaginative "Explore More" store at the Pacific Science Center. Smash also works its magic for private clients in search of not-off-the-rack home design.

Not that all their professional work is quite as over the top as their own place. "Our home is simply a big play room," says Welch, laughing. "This way, we get to do things clients would never go for. And remember, for every special project we do, the props get to come home."

They weren't necessarily looking for a new home when they discovered the Greenwood site seven years ago. What they were searching for was a work area and loading dock large enough to accommodate the often over-sized Smash creations. They couldn't, however, help but notice all that abandoned ground-floor space as they waded through the trash to view the below-ground studio. The fact that the 1920s-era building came with an interesting history made it all the more attractive. At various times, it was home to a Boy's Club gymnasium, to the Marie's Ranch Style Dressing production team and, most recently, to the Carousel Tavern.

In the end, they struck a lease deal for the entire space, moved the business downstairs and proceeded to chip away at the upstairs redo. It took five years of weekend work and creative budgeting once they made the decision to rip out the existing interior partitions, expose the brick walls and ceiling beams and reconfigure the entire space.

Step by step, they constructed a series of brightly painted half-walls throughout the flat to break up the space and provide for privacy while still leaving the shell intact. As for the floors, pre-finished wood slats were used throughout to keep the cost at a reasonable roar. They also made liberal use of glass mosaic tile in the kitchen and bath, a colorful design feature popular in the 1960s. That same mosaic tile was also used to accentuate doorways as well as provide a glistening surface for a raised platform area that serves as the upstairs office.

Two years ago, Welch, a former elementary-school teacher with the Seattle Public Schools, Clements, who has a theater background, and their two teenagers finally moved in. It turned out to be the perfect arrangement for a couple who make very little distinction between what they do for fun and what they do for work.

So how difficult is it for the opinionated pair to agree on what goes where? "We have astonishingly similar tastes," says Clements. "Of course, we're also looking at the same checkbook, so quite often our choices are ruled by how much something is going to cost." What ended up ruling the main living space was the couple's extensive collection of sleek furniture from the 1950s and '60s, furniture originally manufactured for use in upscale corporate-office environments. No less than an homage to the clean, modern post-war American style, Welch says the room speaks of a time when the country was confident, optimistic and determined to look to the future.

But for everything that's sleek and clean and futuristic, there's a balanced counterpoint.

Recently, the pair unveiled their latest creation: "The Trader Marc Room." A tribute to South Seas kitsch, it's also home to many artifacts from the late, great Trader Vic's restaurant chain. With its thatched Tiki Hut corner bar and hand-painted wall mural (a mural similar to the one the pair created for a Tommy Bahama restaurant in Florida), it's not Ozzie and Harriet, but it's the family television and game room nontheless.

As one might expect, when it came time for the "Trader Marc Room" inaugural party, the flat was packed with sarong-clad friends and family members of all ages who dipped into a buffet, downed punch served in classic "hula girl" cups and watched as a large-scale video projection of the film classic "South Pacific" undulated in all its innocence against the back wall.

It was nothing if not a smash.

Freelance writer Victoria Medgyesi covers national and regional architectural, interior design and real-estate trends. Benjamin Benschneider is a Seattle Times photographer.