New Deck Underway

MAJOR PROJECT UNDERWAY HERE at my Long Island beach house, one I’ve been drawing and thinking over and consulting about for many months now. I’m replacing the old, rotting L-shaped deck (above, the “before”) with a new cedar deck, more complicated and larger. That is, Howard Kaye of East End Deck is doing it; or rather, his workmen are. This is the same builder who built the deck and shower platform at my previous house, which had what I considered a very successful outcome.

My friend Jifat Windmiller, an architect whose work I much admire, conceived the general idea on a napkin sketch last winter, and has generously consulted with me throughout (and is not responsible for any wrong-headed decisions or mistakes later made by me, of which more below).

The main change is that the long platform that ran almost the length of the house, and the brick patio, top at left, are being bridged by a new 13’x14′ platform that ‘floats’ two steps up. Other proportions are being tweaked as well. The platform at the far end is being extended out two feet beyond the end of the house, and the long platform, below, made shorter by about fifteen feet, to be replaced by a narrower walkway.

All this past weekend, while the workers were off, I stared at the proportions of the major deck elements and liked them. 

The situation regarding the walkway — the entry point to the new deck system — has been a design challenge, one I hope will be resolved by my latest decision. Part of the issue is that, in years to come, there will be a whole other parking area and system of paths leading to the house. The current living room and kitchen will be down the other end of the house, and the main entry will be changed as well. So the entry to the deck that leads from the presently-used driveway to the presently-used door in the middle of the long front facade is essentially a secondary one, though it still needs to be functional and welcoming.

There was a time, not too long ago, when I was considering an arched Japanese-style bridge, but I’m glad I gave that up. I now realize it would have looked like something off a miniature golf course. I went instead with a 4-1/2-foot-wide boardwalk one step up, and had them flare out the sides to create what I felt would be a sort of entry gesture, below. But after living with it framed out this past weekend, I decided it looked awkward and unwieldy.

“The wings” are now gone and so is the step; it’s going to be just a plain wooden ramp, Fire Island-style. The change added man-hours; the builder has been totally chill about it. 

“Howard,” I said last week, when I added the ‘wings,’ “this will be the last change.” “No, it won’t,” he replied. Evidently a voice of experience.

 

That Deck Again: The Finished Product

INDULGE ME ONE LAST POST about my new deck, and then we’ll move on to other topics. The job is done as of this afternoon — it took 3-1/2 days, and I think the builders did a stellar job. Grateful shout-out, too, to my architect friend, Jifat Windmiller, who conceived the deck plan for me. (To see the horrifying “before” pictures of just a week ago, go here.)

When Jifat stopped by this evening to see it, she was surprised that the half-moon doors, which now form the entrance to the shower stall from the inside of the platform, weren’t used as a wall facing toward the backyard. That’s how she envisioned it, but we’d kind of left that up in the air. I thought I could handle that bit myself; I designed the shower enclosure in about 15 minutes and sketched something up for the builders. Now Jifat finds that big square outer wall “too solid” and wants me to cut a hole in it, or a matching half-circle. Hmmmph.

We shall see. I like being sheltered in the shower by nearby trees and don’t care that there’s no direct view of the woods from the shower itself. The square wall of cedar looks pleasingly Japanese to me. But the truth is, I see her point. It’s mostly it’s that I don’t want to call the builders back here for minor tweaks that could be costly.

There’s still a lot to do in terms of landscaping around the new deck, and I’m raring to move ahead on the bathroom reno. But right now I’m savoring this accomplishment, at least for a few days.

One more day of guesses on the cost of the deck, and then I’ll reveal the magic number. For a chance to win a copy of the 1970s-vintage book, East Hampton: A History and Guide, send along your best guess in the comments on this post or either of the two preceding deck-related posts.

Modernist Barn in Sag Harbor

CALL IT MODERN. CALL IT RUSTIC. This newly remodeled property, on a third of an acre in a quiet Sag Harbor backstreet, is a hybrid of styles. It’s reminiscent of a French farmhouse, with a barn-like character in its soaring main space. But when she bought it as a development project in 2005, says architect Jifat Windmiller, it was just plain ugly. “People thought it was a motel.”

[Go here and search Web #53269 for more pics and info]

This post is a departure for me, as this is neither an old house (it was built in 1980), nor is it inexpensive (I generally try to feature houses under $500K, which is kind of a challenge in the Hamptons). But I’m blogging about it because Jifat, a highly talented architect, is one of my dearest friends, and I’m very impressed with what she’s created.

She was drawn to the property initially by the one-of-a-kind post-and-beam structure in the double-height living room. “That is why I bought it,” she says.

Aside from that dominant, uniquely sculptural feature and three massive fireplaces, “every wall, window, and door is completely new, and in a new place.”

Divided-light windows and French doors flood the rooms with light. The front porch is on ground level, like a modernist arcade, with classic barn doors that slide on tracks.

Jifat completely remodeled the kitchen and baths, and built additions for a dining room and master suite with a roof deck overlooking the pool. The house now measures 2,750 square feet, with 3 bedrooms and 2-1/2 baths.

She also designed and built a totally charming pool/guest house with wonderful medieval-style windows that I could be quite happy living in, if zoning laws allowed.