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FrontRangeLiving.com -> Architecture -> Preservationists
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Couple of Preservationists Choose
A Home Of Their Own
By Niki Hayden
When homebuyers chance upon the house of their dreams, they’ll often
reflect that it was the hand crafted wood paneling or the gingerbread trim that
sold them. Perhaps the spiral staircase captured their fancy. Or, a fascinating
history of the dwelling stirred their souls. When preservationist architects go
house hunting, basic instincts are no different. Kathy Hoeft and Gary Long,
architects who specialize in historic buildings, stopped for a cup of coffee in
a mountain town and found the home of their dreams.
It was available, priced right and needed immediate attention. "It
seemed like a good idea at the time," Kathy says with a wince. To hear the
litany of problems they have fixed will stun any amateur. But both Kathy and
Gary knew they were in for an ordeal that couldn’t be resisted.
 Robert S. Roeschlaub, Colorado’s first trained architect, arrived in 1873
and designed their two-story Gothic Revival home. Gary, who is both an architect
and historian, says that Roeschlaub trained at New York’s Columbia University
in 1867, which was the only American university providing a degree in
architecture. After apprenticing in Chicago, he set out for the West. With gold
and silver mines attracting Easterners to Colorado, Roeschlaub was no exception.
One of his clients was a mining engineer named John Adams Church.
When Kathy and Gary bought the mining engineer’s house, it had stood idle
for ten years. "We started by jacking up the house just to level the
foundation. The tail end was falling off and had sustained a fire," Gary
says. That was just the beginning. "Our primary issue was to make it a
residence and an office. For us it was an opportunity. It was so badly damaged. So we could fix it to our pleasure. We simply pulled off the
mess in the back and retained a slightly larger addition of kitchen, office and
an additional bedroom overhead. We arranged an easement to not alter the front
or the sides of the house but to add to the rear. It’s the sympathetic
approach to preservation. We immediately saw value in the wainscoting and stair
railing. So we started with kids and friends and hard labor just to clean
them."
 If it sounds as though Kathy and Gary made the mistake of a lifetime,
consider their professions. Kathy is an expert in historic preservation as well
as an architect. Gary served as a tenured professor at the University of
Colorado, heading up the graduate program in architectural design and
environmental engineering. Together they’ve tackled the Byers-Evans House in
Denver as well as the Molly Brown House, the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Civic
Center Park in Denver and a host of other historic sites. Kathy says when she
and Gary first began to work in historic preservation in 1975, "so few
people were trained in it that work flooded through the doors."
 But even for experts, sizing up a property is daunting. The house had been
constructed near a beaver pond. Gary says there is evidence that builders tried
to shore up one sinking corner as they were building. One corner of a room was
ten inches lower than the opposite corner. That meant that none of the doors
could close. The house had no heating. There had been a water pipe system that
froze and broke, so the plumbing was damaged. The woodwork was amber and someone
had painted over woodwork in purple without prepping the paint. A new electrical
system went in. And there were plenty of surprises: "We were working in the
dining room and the ceiling came down," he says.
Still, Gary and Kathy sensed a kinship with Roeschlaub. Kathy also graduated
from Columbia University and Gary researched the distinguished Civil War record
of Roeschlaub as well as his imprint on Colorado. Not long after his arrival,
Roeschlaub became the architect of choice for the Denver schools. Today he is
probably best remembered as the architect of Denver’s Trinity United Methodist
Church and the Central City Opera House. Many of the buildings and homes he
designed have been demolished, so for a history buff and architect, bringing a
rare Roeschlaub back to life provided a thrill amid turmoil.
"We respected what had been done and felt as if we were completing his
house, following in his shoes," Gary says. Roeschlaub had designed the back
rooms that Gary simply built more substantially. The rest of the home is true to
size and shape of the original. But it’s not a period piece. Their home is not
a museum, and the gloomy interior now is bathed in light with white walls and
lacy, transparent curtains. The ceilings, 11 feet high are punctuated by the
vertical windows of the Victorian period without being swathed in heavy drapes.
The furnishings are mixed, too.
 Brightly colored Oriental rugs join family heirlooms and one-of-a-kind found
furniture. An Arts & Crafts-style rug runs up the stairs. It’s a
reproduction based on a pattern by 19th century British designer
William Morris. Wallpaper borders hug the wall corners. "These are
take-offs on historic wallpapers that are late 19th century,"
Kathy says, chosen according to taste and not accuracy. "If you were doing
a museum you would choose a restoration date or period and be consistent, not
haphazardly choose things from a time outside the restoration period," she
says.
But her taste leans toward the eclectic combination of turn-of-the-century
patterns and whimsical additions: a small table from Asia, a chair with carved
cats’ heads. Since the Victorians loved to collect exotic finds from all
around the world, these touches keep to the feel, if not the authenticity, of
the times.
And plenty of authentic flourishes remain. An iron mantle with a
faux-painted marble hearth is soapstone. They’ve kept the original stair and
bathroom wainscoting—even though that prevented the installation of a vapor
barrier in the bathroom. All the interior hardware and doors are original as are
the transom windows above each door, which flood the rooms in light. These
small, horizontal windows are the legacy of a health concern in a previous age
when the original intent was to ventilate rooms with fresh air.
 They brought in expert craftspeople to tackle jobs too difficult or time
consuming. They decided to buy inexpensive kitchen cabinets, but pay an expert
to put up wallpaper borders. "The pros do it so much faster," Gary
says, and Kathy adds that the wallpaper is not inexpensive. "Unless you are
a pretty good craftsperson, you would want to hire someone," she says.
But they put in considerable labor, too, when it came chores they could
accomplish. After a struggle with paint choices for the walls, Kathy eventually
swept color onto the walls with a rolled t-shirt instead of brushes. "We chose color by trial and error. We would just start over
and tried ragging the walls with three colors. That’s not a single color on
these walls. That’s three different colors. First we tried a sponge and ended
up with an old t-shirt rag technique. We put on a base color and then a slightly
darker color and a lighter color on the rag. If you look closely, it’s almost
like chamois."
 The house, of course, isn’t finished. The tone in Gary’s voice is a
mixture of pride and exhaustion. And then with a pause that any owner of an old
house will appreciate: "It’s an education for all of us. We work with old
buildings and we know the 19th century backwards and forwards. We
also ran out of steam. We have to repaint the house. So now we’re already into
heavy capital maintenance and we are not even finished with the interior,"
he says with a sigh.
Of course, to the novice, the change is nothing less than transforming. To
stand in a house that hints at 19th century elements of design--the charming window porches outside shading the windows, the exquisite winding
stair banister, a glossy hearth the color of ebony and high ceilings ringed in
patterns--the setting is unique. No one would imagine the strain and stress of
its past few years. After all, toil and trouble have been wiped away. "It’s
truly hard to respect an old building. We knew that we were not restoring it but
making it an adaptive use," Gary says, "It’s what we call a
rehabilitation. But like any mortals, Kathy and I want people to
come in and say, ‘this is wonderful.’" So it is.
 Here are some basic recommendations that Gary offers for any old house.
1. Look at the foundation. A beautiful house may be sitting on little or
no foundation. "You start with a foundation and make sure it is
secure," Gary says. "If it is not, it may not be worth it."
Gary had to shore up his foundation, so it’s not impossible. But it needs
to be attended to first, not in the middle of a project. Don’t start with
finishes, he says, until you level the floor.
2. A good roof, perhaps a permanent roof is the next concern. Water is
the enemy of a house, so Gary says it’s essential to keep water out.
3. Safety is crucial. Bring in a master electrician who can give you an
analysis. That will be followed by plumbing and heating.
4. Learn to compromise. An old house may have extraordinary touches like
wainscoting that you won’t want to disturb. So perhaps that room won’t
get the plumbing you had in mind.
5. Decide what is primary and what is secondary. "Economics is the
gut issue," Gary says. "Where does your money really count?"
he asks. Rooms that were added on were less important to him than the
original rooms.
The wall border patterns and curtains are stunning. Here are few of their favorite websites:
Historic and art wallpapers: www.bradbury.com
Historic hand printed wallpapers: www.carterandco.com
Historic wallpapers and textiles: www.burrows.com
Publications that are helpful: Old House Journal at:
www.oldhousejournal.com
For more information on Robert S. Roeschlaub: www.coloradohistory-oahp.org/guides/architects/roeschlaub.pdf
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