As dawn breaks, crenellated ribbons of orange light streak across white cabinetry deep inside the East Boston loft of architects Elle Gerdeman and Kyle Coburn. Part psychedelic laser show, part contemplative art installation, the phantasmagoric display results from early morning rays hitting a distorted sheet of thin steel in the living room, then bouncing off a polished steel coffee table and projecting onto the wall behind it.

The architects, who were college sweethearts and are founding partners of the firm CO–G, first tested the setup by using a reflective emergency blanket in an attempt to push sunlight throughout their loft. “There were funky reflections scattered everywhere, so we bought the steel to see what it would do,” Elle says of the sheet, which she bent by hand until it refracted the light to her liking. “Experimentation is important to us. We are constantly tinkering.”

Giant windows and natural light, not to mention a plot of open floor space where they could spread out their works in progress, seduced the couple to migrate from a tiny Beacon Hill apartment to this former General Electric light bulb factory on the other side of Boston Harbor. Built in 1910, the four-story redbrick building stretches nearly three city blocks and faces playing fields and Boston Logan International Airport.

“East Boston was outside our radar, but when we visited, we fell in love with the industrial vibe and the ability to walk to the bay every morning,” Kyle says. After renting a unit on the first floor for four years, the couple bought a 930-square-foot, single-bay loft on the building’s top floor in February 2020. They moved in the following month and began transforming it into a flexible live/work space where they could be creative, build a business, and start a family. (The pair had their first child in July.)

A movable polycarbonate wall divides the loft in half, separating the living space from the primary bedroom and kitchen. The translucent panels allow light to pass into those rooms while offering privacy from the central space. A skinny interior window at the top of the bedroom draws light into the sliver of a nursery behind it. “The mammoth polycarbonate wall was the big idea that we built the unit around,” Kyle says.

The architects employ mundane construction materials—plywood, plaster, polycarbonate, and steel—in a way that elevates them without seeming precious. By embedding smart LED light strips into the polycarbonate panels, the duo turned the ribbed wall into an illuminated installation that evokes the works of Dan Flavin. At night, the wall glows peachy pink, as does the kitchen, thanks to a strip tucked behind the marble backsplash. “We’re using very basic materials but stretching them past their typical use, or we’re supersizing them so they become exquisite or unusual,” Elle says.

“When you have opaque walls, every room has a defined function. Traditional houses have unused rooms—we don’t have that luxury.”
—Kyle Coburn, architect and resident

During the day, the polycarbonate wall remains open, effectively erasing the line between the bedroom and the living space and making each room seem larger. “We’re borrowing space and views,” Kyle says. The layout, the pair explain, is about overlapping, free-flowing spaces rather than rigidly delineated rooms.

“Not many materials are lightweight and translucent,” he says, noting that he and Elle became familiar with polycarbonate as interns at the architecture firm OMA in Rotterdam." layout="wide" credit="Photo by Tony Luong" photoUserId=""/>

Whereas the bedroom is mainly a place to sleep—the couple are contemplating installing a Murphy bed so that the space can double as an office—the living room is multifunctional. It’s where they eat, relax, work, and create. Under the eight-foot-tall wall of windows, a whitewashed plywood bench provides a sunny spot for morning coffee and plentiful seating for friends. Its top is a plant ledge and a catwalk for Zuri, the couple’s fluffy feline. “It’s her own little jungle and cat hammam,” quips Elle, noting that the baseboard heat warms the wood.

Behind the marshmallow-esque Hay sectional, Elle’s desk practically disappears against the plain white wall. Still, there’s a curvy cloud of linen drapery to hide it at the end of the workday. The curtain, suspended from a track on the ceiling, snakes through the space, bulging around the desk and swooping near the kitchen before making its way along the polycarbonate wall to provide an extra layer of privacy for the bedroom if needed. “We let life determine the shape of the curtain,” Kyle says.

When designing for themselves, the couple take a go-with-the-flow approach that results in what Kyle calls more of a sensibility than a design rigor. The loft is a place where they’ve conjured an aura, a place that doesn’t have to be perfect. “It’s meant to be a playground where, if we have an idea, we can clear the furniture to the side and make it happen,” Elle says. “We can hang a swing, build a mock-up, and host friends for cocktails.” Then she mentions roller-skating. “Really?” asks her husband. “Okay, maybe not,” she says. “But I can imagine it.”

Project Credits:

Design: CO-G Architecture / @co_g.co

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An Architect Couple Give a Loft in a Former Light Bulb Factory a Glowing Revamp