Cara Frey and Jennifer Warner lived in the same bungalow in the Sabin neighborhood of Portland, Oregon, for close to 14 years, and they spent almost every spare minute working on some part of it. “My wife and I did everything we could, even painted it black ahead of the trend curve,” says Cara, half joking. Not that they minded—quite the opposite. The women, both “boring” lawyers, according to Cara, find home improvement a good way to let loose pent-up creative energy. But when there was nothing left to update or change, a move seemed inevitable.

In 2013, they fell in love with a modest but charming 1920s house within walking distance of their bungalow. The dwelling was dramatically sited, with great views of the city’s southwest hills and downtown. But according to Michael Leckie, the Vancouver–based architect they eventually hired, “It was the dumpiest house on the block.”

Cara and Jennifer took a less critical view and spent more than a year wrestling with ways to keep the existing residence. However, the structure, located on the Alameda Ridge, had a deep crack along the entire length of its concrete base. Every contractor they interviewed said it would cost a fortune to repair. Reluctantly, they turned to Plan B: a total teardown.

Leckie replaced the house with a simple, modern design, using a basic square wood box that skews into a rhombus form, which he topped with a sloping roof. “Depending on where you’re standing, the roof can seem almost flat or appear more dramatic,” says Cara. The structure is clad in a darkened cedar. “We used the back, rough side of the boards to add more character,” the architect explains.

Leckie chose not to use the maximum allowable square footage, going from the previous home’s 3,300 square feet to 2,500 for the new build, leaving room for a driveway on one side and a possible future extension on the other. “Less but better” is the Dieter Rams dictate to which he and his clients subscribe. Even still, the couple, who have two children— Katherine, 11, and William, 6—were hesitant about not having enough space. But Leckie kept finding ways to add extra storage to every room. Not a square inch was wasted, with built-ins running from the base of the windows to the floor in many of the shared spaces and bedrooms.

Thanks to the sloping site, the architect was able to take advantage of a lower level that had gone mostly unused before. There, he created a meditation space and recreation area that spills out onto a patio, home to a large Japanese soaking tub, one of Jennifer’s requests. On the level above, the living room soars from 16 to 20 feet high, with a skylight that makes the space feel even airier. The dramatic stairway to the second floor is suspended from steel rods—“a structural necessity,” says Leckie. The top floor has three bedrooms and two baths; an office on the first floor can be converted into another bedroom if needed.

Leckie also helped reduce energy consumption by installing a high-efficiency electric boiler and opting for a wood-burning stove instead of a fireplace. The home’s compact form and modest amounts of glazing add to its overall eco-friendliness.

Cara, the major design fanatic in the family, was involved every step of the way and monitored all phases of construction. She likens the project to childbirth: “I gave birth to both kids. It was tough, but two years later, you don’t remember anything.”

And what will provide a creative outlet, now that the house is built? “I’ll find another design project that will be sure to drive me crazy,” says Cara, “and Jen will return to her very brief deejaying career and painting.”

Project Credits:

Architect of Record: Michael Leckie, Leckie Studio Architecture + Design / @leckiestudio

General contracting: Modern Organic Construction

Structural engineering: Munzing Structural

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A Darkened Cedar Dwelling in Portland Embodies “Less But Better” Design