Surrounded on all sides by a sweeping Canadian hayfield, the 23.2 House is an angular ode to rural life. Out of “respect for the beams and their history,” Designer Omer Arbel insisted that not a single reclaimed plank—still marked by nailheads and chipped paint—be cut nor altered during construction, which gave the home its striking geometric motif. It’s what he refers to as the “alchemy between material and process,” which also inspired the textured concrete walls and crisply milled walnut furniture.
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Surrounded on all sides by a sweeping Canadian hayfield, the 23.2 House is an angular ode to rural life.
Omer Arbel, the creative director at industrial design firm Bocci, was given three parameters when he began designing a home for his colleague Randy Bishop: Create a “profound” connection between the internal and external spaces; build only one level; and, most crucially, utilize a wealth of 100-year-old beams salvaged from a series of warehouses owned by Bishop’s ancestors.
“The house is a piece of origami made out of triangular shapes, which we then draped over the landscape,” says Arbel.
Arbel’s projects—both products and architectural commissions—follow a chronological numbering system. The house itself is his 23rd design, while the one-of-a-kind glass pendants that accent nearly every room like a starscape are called “28.”
Bishop is an avid record collector—Rolling Stones albums are a sought-after favorite—and he keeps his vinyl in the shelving unit ”1.1,” a reproduction of Arbel’s first completed work. The kids can often be found playing video games at the desk in the great room.
Framed family photos hang, clustered and skylit, in the corridor.
Impromptu reading time in the open-plan kitchen is encouraged.
Walnut doors come together to form a corner in the entry foyer.
White tiles envelop the en suite master bathroom.
Just off an internal courtyard, a mudroom provides a prime place to keep sneakers. Each family member has their own shelf, backlit by windows that illuminate every pair.
Expansive accordion doors join together in a sharp angle when shut, but when they’re open the crook competely disappears—as does the barrier between outside and in.
Sliding doors cast shadows across the concrete floor.
Operable walnut shutters shed dappled light from windows throughout 23.2.
Arbel’s “14” sconces spot the wall to ethereal effect in the master bedroom. “I wanted this place to be habitable. One of my greatest criticisms of modern architecture is that it often forgets to make things cozy.”