Recipe for a bungalow kitchen
Architectural expert and author Jane Powell has a descriptive phrase for the early 20th-century homes she loves so much. They're "the old-growth forests of the built environment because that's where the old-growth forests went."
Can you see where Powell, an ardent preservationist, is going with this one?
It's into every old bungalow, Tudor or Craftsman kitchen with a plea to save it from the remodeler's ax.
"The old-growth forests have been decimated, so you shouldn't decimate them again by ripping them out," Powell says with passion. "Most of the resources that went into these houses are irreplaceable. You can't get this stuff again."
But upon reflection, "even I want a dishwasher," she admits, chuckling. And she knows just how to install it seamlessly in her 1923 stucco bungalow in Oakland, Calif.
Preserving the old while incorporating the new is a message Powell will bring to Seattle Saturday as a featured speaker at the fourth-annual Bungalow and Craftsman Home Fair.
Sponsored by Historic Seattle, a nonprofit architectural-preservation organization, the event will be held Saturday and Sunday, Sept. 29 and 30, at Town Hall on Seattle's First Hill. It is open to the public; reservations are not necessary.
Some 50 experts on everything from bungalow architecture to interior design to decorative arts and furniture will be on hand.
"What the fair does is educate people to what's appropriate," explains Historic Seattle's Lawrence Kreisman, the event's director. "There are demonstrations, lectures, opportunities for people to explore something they're curious about, but may not know anything about."
As Powell discovered, learning about early 20th-century kitchens — the topic of her lecture — wasn't easy. The owner of a home-restoration firm in Oakland, she's been fixing up bungalows for the past 14 years, learning along the way.
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"There's lots of information about other rooms, but because kitchens were considered a utility room they were rarely photographed. So there wasn't much information, and a lot of the information out there was scattered all over the place."
Assembling it, she's written "Bungalow Kitchens" (Gibbs-Smith Publisher; $39.95). The large format, 159-page book features extensive photos by photographer Linda Svendsen of some 50 kitchens. They're woven into chapters covering such topics as layout and design, appliances, plumbing, lighting, cabinets, doors and windows. Also included is an extensive resource list. (Coming later this year is Powell's and Svendsen's second book, "Bungalow Bathrooms.")
Original designs
Powell says her Seattle appearance and kitchen book are targeted at owners and would-be owners of houses built between 1895 and 1940. Those owners may be lucky enough to have an original kitchen — or among the many more who inherited a remodeled space and are now considering rolling back that remodel.
That's called restoration, and it flies in the face of a lot of remodeling that says modernizing is a good thing. Is it?
Only to a point, Powell argues.
"There are many reasons to have a period kitchen, to either restore the one that is there or build a new one in a period way," she writes. "They are an important piece of history: the history of the house, the history of the 20th century, the history of women, the history of technology.
"They can easily be made to function for the 21st century without compromising their integrity."
When owners rip them out, they destroy the home's continuity, she says. "If you put in a state-of-the-art kitchen, in about 10 years it will be dated. But if you put in a kitchen that belongs with the rest of the house, it will be timeless. It's important not to make your house into something it's not."
But what about resale value, doubters ask her.
"People are always concerned with that. But as long as you provide people with a dishwasher, a frost-free refrigerator, garbage disposal, enough counter space and a stove, they're happy."
And all can be accomplished while remaining true to the spirit of an older house, she says.
Other doubters point out that yesterday's kitchens were designed for cooking. Today's are made for cooking and eating and entertaining. Can there be a compromise there?
Perhaps. "There are ways to do it that are not obviously modern, so you don't put in the breakfast bar and wide-screen TV. But it's not out of the question to have a window seat, or if the kitchen is large enough maybe a table in the middle."
If none of that's possible, Powell will steer them to an old-fashioned solution.
"A lot of time people say, 'We don't use our dining room.' I want to ask, 'Why? Is there a force field around it?' " she jokes. "The solution is, use the dining room."
One home featured in the book, a 1914 Tudor revival on Capitol Hill, is an example of blending the old and the new. Until recently it was owned by Norman Finnance and his partner Mike Reandeau. When they purchased it in 1996 they found a kitchen hybrid. Part was original, part a 1960s remodel.
It's the kitchen shown in the photos here.
Turning back time
As a professional remodeler himself (with a business called Restoration True now based in San Jose), Finnance was in the enviable position of knowing how to turn back time.
To begin with, he knew who had designed the house: noted early Seattle architect Andrew Willison, whose training with Frank Lloyd Wright showed in the Prairie School influence that overlaid the home's Tudor revival style.
The home's previous owner passed on floor plans. Searching through the library at the University of Washington School of Architecture, Finnance found photographs of the house, along with a specification sheet for another Willison-designed home. That sheet told him what construction materials the architect used at the time. Among them: fir floors, maple countertops.
In the home's basement, Finnance found an old kitchen base cabinet that had been recycled into a work bench. Too far gone to be used again, it became the prototype for two new base cabinets.
Further research revealed the original location of the stove and its chimney; in their place were original cabinets that had been moved, the glass in their upper doors replaced by plywood. Glass that Finnance salvaged from old windows went back in.
Hidden dishwasher
Finnance put the kitchen back together as close to original as possible — with a few significant changes.
One of the new base cabinets swings open to reveal a dishwasher. Because Finnance and his partner like to cook and entertain, a second sink was added near the stove.
And they designed a moveable, marble-topped storage table that functions as an island. Early Seattle houses didn't have islands, but nicer ones did have marble pastry preparation areas.
"Although my big drive is to be as close to original as possible, I've learned to give in," he says. "We weren't destroying something original. That's one thing I would not do. Where you run into trouble is when you introduce a very faddish material that's not appropriate for that house."
The fact that there's even a market for a book called "Bungalow Kitchens" shows that preservation has an audience. Indeed, author Powell says she's had several people tell her that getting the book changed their mind about what to do.
"That was my intent. If I can convince one person not to rip out their kitchen, I've succeeded."
Elizabeth Rhodes can be reached at erhodes@seattletimes.com.