A relocation to Hawke’s Bay turned a vision into reality, with the discovery of a perfect plot of land ideal for building this rustic-inspired home.
A simple barn in a meadow. That’s what Judy Johnson dreamed of. Little could she have imagined, though, that it would emerge alongside the Tukituki River and in the lee of the sleeping giant that is Te Mata Peak in Te Matau-a-Māui/Hawke’s Bay. Although Judy had visited the region for garden tours, she never entertained the idea of living here until her daughter married and moved to the region from Tāmaki Makaurau/Auckland. “I began to think, ‘Wouldn’t it be amazing if I could build?’” she says.
Judy trained as a draughtsperson “some time ago” but got sidetracked into her late husband’s publishing business in Sydney. After 25 years in Australia, she moved back to Auckland, to their home in Parnell. “I’ve renovated a lot over the years but never started from scratch,” she explains.
By selling up in Auckland and following family to the Bay, Judy found her opportunity. This site, within a lifestyle development — an open woodland with rolling pastures and bridle trails — captured her imagination. Here was a blank canvas where her idea for a modern barn could be painted.
“Judy has a great eye and knows what she likes,” says Auckland architect Kyle Porter, who was commissioned for the project. His client came armed with a Pinterest file of modern barns with gable roofs.
Set up as an encampment of peaked forms around a patio and ‘lawn’, the main house runs north to south: a long building that contains the centralised open-plan living zone, flanked by the main suite, additional bedrooms and the laundry, where the grandchildren have lots of space to hang out. It’s a classic floorplan — only better.
The bedroom zones project slightly forward of the living room to create a sheltered verandah between them, while the separate self-contained studio for friends and a small single-car garage are positioned on the land nearby to ensure privacy.
Practical it may be but by far the overriding impression is the incredible sense of place that permeates the interiors through panoramic black-steel glazing that runs the length of the living area on both sides. With the river to the east and the peak to the west, this is quintessential Tukituki country. It feels rural and ever-present. “It’s such a lovely vista out to the river and over to the hills. It’s like looking out on to a painting — stunning no matter the time of day,” says Judy.
While it was her sense and sensibilities that were the driving force, it was Kyle who listened and then interpreted Judy’s wishes to ensure the detailing of the structure was beautifully refined. Clad in cedar and then draped in a cedar rainscreen, the forms, with 45-degree pitches, are crisp outlines against the sky. “The rainscreen gives depth to the cladding and avoids having to have the visible flashings that you normally would on a weatherboard house,” explains Kyle. “It simplifies the look.”
An oversized sliding barn door with a bespoke hand-forged handle is the informal entrance — like stepping in from the verandah. “It’s not city-ish,” says Kyle. “You can almost imagine pulling up on a horse.”
a slab of macrocarpa sourced from a Northland sawmill. ABOVE Terracotta balls bought at auction sit on sandstone slabs in the culinary garden, where the sunny climate suits the rosemary to a T.
But once inside the house, it’s clear this is owned by a woman well-versed in global style secrets. Judy cherry-picks from interiors around Europe and exotic islands, has an innate understanding of scale and proportion — and she can rock a good vignette. Simple but beautiful, rustic but modern, there’s a very calming equilibrium to the spaces.
Natural materials are to the fore within an envelope devoid of distractions (there are no architraves or skirtings). Wide-plank oak floors and warm white walls combine with elements of Portuguese stone on the fireplace hearth. In the kitchen, Judy was keen on a big bench that family and friends could sit around while she cooked. “I make a big mess, but I’m not one to hide everything in a scullery,” she says. A simple pantry and a wine fridge keep it real, and the Carrara marble tops and copper cookware hanging from racks on the back wall lend a European country-house flavour.
The dining table, an old French feeding trough with worn planks attached to the top, was a wonderful find in a neighbour’s antique store and teams with a sideboard that was once a carpenter’s bench, its grooved surface celebrating the passage of time. Alongside these pieces, in a room where the fireplace provides a focal point, there are supporting players of art and vessels filled with dried foraged foliage. “I’m not a huge one for colour,” says Judy whose tonal taste favours earthy, grounded shades.
The sprigs and branches she uses in her collection of large-scale vessels are often picked on walks down to the river with grandchildren, Finn (7) and Ava (5). They love nothing more than to run through the tracks that Judy has mown through her meadow (that former lawn) and link up with the trails that lead riverside all the way to the popular Red Bridge Coffee. It was the owner of the café who made her the rusted-steel rocket-shaped fireplace/oven that she calls ‘Houston’ which has become the fulcrum of the north-facing limestone patio. On weekends, when Judy is in town, the family often gathers here for barbecues, flanked by a Mediterranean-style garden with 35-year-old olive trees and masses of rosemary that rambles over local boulders. Surrounding this, Judy has planted miscanthus and allowed other wild grasses to grow, so the tapestry ‘au sauvage’ knits the garden seamlessly into the backdrop of paddock and woodland.
Trout-fishing in the river with friends is a favourite pursuit, the results to be brought back and smoked alfresco, the golden-hour light setting the hills on fire.
It is at moments like these that Judy can viscerally appreciate what she has here. “I’ve always had an interest in architecture and design, but I’ve never been able to put it all together in one place,” she explains. Until now.
Words Claire McCall
Photography Hazel Redmond