From the archives

Robert A.M. Stern Crafts a Georgian Revival-Style Home in Lake Michigan

The renowned architect and his partner Randy Correll, work together to create a light-filled residence fit for a family
With its informal dining table and island seating the substantial kitchen is a primary gathering place for the family
With its informal dining table and island seating, the substantial kitchen is a primary gathering place for the family. The shade fabric is from Chelsea Editions. Rogers & Goffigon chair linen.

This article originally appeared in the October 2009 issue of Architectural Digest.

The marvel that is Lake Michigan has many of the dramatic characteristics of an ocean, such as waves and cloud-blown storms, and lucky the house that fronts it. Luckier still if the property it sits astride, on the North Shore of Chicago, is studded with mature oaks. Architect Robert A. M. Stern and his partner Randy Correll took care to sensitively site the 16,000-square-foot structure, sliding it in among trees that themselves create a heightened foreground to the lake views.

The wife had envisioned a house with a strong New England character. This prompted the architects to look not only at the historically eclectic 1920s and '30s suburban Chicago estate houses of David Adler and Howard Van Doren Shaw but at their sources of inspiration in colonial and Georgian architecture. Stern and Correll then reinterpreted the paradigm, infusing it with individuality and unreserved freshness.

An important part of the plan was to have every primary room, including the three children's bedrooms, face the lake, with varying kinds of window openings (from broad elliptical bays to wide French doors) framing—and artfully differentiating—the views. The building is therefore preternaturally long and only one room deep, yet for a wonder manages to not look like a railroad train.

The couple wanted the house to read as graciously understated rather than extravagantly sized. The rambling, asymmetrical quality of its composition does indeed succeed in making it seem smaller and feel relaxed—"Starting right at the front door," Stern says, "the degree of formality versus informality was intensely scrutinized." The series of components that the mass was broken into look nothing if not added onto over time—among them, a library wing clad in fieldstone, which contrasts with the predominant clapboard and white-painted brick; a single-story family-room wing and screen porch; and a carriage house-like porte cochere and garage wing.

The ceilings are not too high (10 feet) and the rooms, though generously proportioned, not too big—"In fact, we decided to scale them back at a certain point," says Stern. The seven fireplaces add warmth and coziness. A sweeping staircase, one of the glories of the house, boasts a built-in seat at a Palladian window at the intermediate landing. Throughout, great attention was paid to the molding profiles and the paneling (the entrance hall is painted and Georgian-detailed; the library is dark oak, and the lower-level billiard room and the wife's dressing room bleached oak).

Stern and Correll worked with landscape designer Douglas Hoerr to build up the beach and create a cove. They also tucked a limestone boathouse into the side of a 20-foot-high bluff landscaped with native prairie plants, and at the north edge of the property they put up a poolhouse that complements the main house.

The interior designer on the project was Victoria Hagan, who earnestly recalls, "I used to read that children's book that Bob Stern wrote,The House That Bob Built, to my twin boys, in the hope that it would make them want to be architects when they grew up—so it was fun to finally get to work on a house that Bob actually did build." Architects and designer consulted continually on the volumes of space (how the rooms were laid out, how they flowed and felt) as well as on the finishes (tiles and marbles in the baths), materials (herringbone for some of the floors) and lighting. "There's not a half inch of this house that wasn't mutually reviewed," Hagan maintains.

她开始的时候选择面料和家具iture, she knew exactly how the clients imagined using their house—"what a day in the life would be," she says. "I worked on getting this place to work, and the interiors developed gradually—I looked hard at the bones of each of the 20-odd rooms and then began to layer."

The window treatments are simple; the antiques are classic and clean-lined, not overly ornate; and the carpets are a mix of textures, with a few antique Orientals thrown in. Everything is soft and welcoming. Even the more traditional rooms, such as the living room, feel young—comfortable rather than imposing.

When it came to extending the palette from the prevalent warm neutrals, Hagan simply looked out the window—to the lake's abstract green and blue. "I was inspired by the color of the water. On sunny days it has a positively Caribbean quality."

The wife was involved in every detail, down to the last cabinet knob, Hagan insists. And as for the husband, "the day we finished, he asked, What are the three things you would change?' I told him, I think we got it right.' " She smiles, knowing perfectly well that they did.