Spaces: Inside a Little Compton “Treehouse”
With attention to materiality and play, a family designs a home that honors their history and invites organic connection.
A new addition to a Little Compton home gives a family of five more space to breathe and grow. Photo by Michael Colbert
When two psychotherapists moved back east to Little Compton, they brought with them a powerful vision: a child-focused space rooted in the land’s history. As they imagined a warm and inspiring home for their children, the property contained its own story for one of the homeowners — she grew up in that same house.
A connector bridges the gap between the original house and the addition, creating “a bit of confusion as to where outside and inside are,” says Jason Wood of from [in] form. Photo by Michael Colbert
After leaving for school in New York and then Colorado to launch a career in therapy, the homeowner realized she felt a certain gnaw. The coast was calling her home.
She and her husband practiced wilderness therapy and saw an opportunity to engage clients through a powerful sense of place right on their land, a seventy-five-acre parcel stretching down to a pond and bisected by wetlands teeming with deer, coyotes, fishers, herons, songbirds and great horned owls. Renovating the home invited them to create that sense of place for themselves, as well.
They first enlisted husband-wife team Jason and Adrienne Wood at from [in] form to build a cottage on the property for the husband to see clients. When they were expecting their third child, they realized they needed to renovate their 1,400-square-foot home.
The project bloomed organically with Jason and Adrienne’s guidance. After determining how the kitchen could expand to facilitate cooking for five, they reimagined their living spaces with a specific imperative.
“We’re so child-centered,” the homeowner says. “We want to spend time with them and want this house to feel really fun.”
The expanded kitchen’s aquamarine hues mirror the home’s exterior. Photo by Michael Colbert
An exterior view of the bridge. Photo by Michael Colbert
The team at from [in] form accomplished this through attention to both form and function. Jason designed a bridge that connected the second floor to an addition just north of the main house.
“It’s a double-height hallway space,” he says. “Leaving the shingles and windows on the old house, the exterior of the old remains, and there’s a sense of loft as you move up that. There’s a bit of confusion as to where outside and inside are, and I think that’s very akin to a treehouse.”
Materiality was key to honoring the home’s history. Jason milled rough-sawn lumber and horizontally stacked it for textural depth. The homeowners joined the design team and salvaged old cherry from a barn in New Bedford, Massachusetts. Opting for materials that would patina, they created a durable stage for their family story to unfold.
“There’s a story to these materials,” Jason says. “Patina is not a surface; rather a composition of time in which the narrative is literal, figurative and abstract simultaneously.
The kitchen features plenty of room for little hands to help. Photo by Michael Colbert
“The same can be said about space and its use. There’s a preciousness that can be defaced, and it will still hold its value. I think that was important to them because they wanted their kids to feel free to stomp around in this beautiful home.”
For the homeowners, the reclaimed materials “soften the modern” and warm the space.
“There’s also a historical piece,” the homeowner says. When a barn she spent time in growing up was renovated, they reclaimed wood for use in her office space. This room of her own honors her own history.
Underneath all these choices is a crystalline philosophy.
“Connection is the most important thing,” the homeowner says. “Connection with yourself, with others. We lean toward an attachment parenting philosophy. I think that the space that we’ve created honors that. It’s this space for us to be together.”
Perhaps the best embodiment of this ethos lies in the bridge to the playroom. A space decked out with a climbing wall, punching bags and pop-a-shot basketball, it’s meant to be a place for their children to play and be together out of their own rooms. For the children to reach the playroom, they travel down the bridge with their parents’ bedroom along the way.
“There’s a nice metaphor in that,” the homeowner says. “As parents we want our children to be more autonomous as they grow, and at the same time, we want them to know that we will always be there for them. I can hear their giggles and the pitter patter of their feet as they run by to play and it brings joy.”
