From the archive: a London house by Robert Kime (2001)

It is not hard for most town dwellers, trapped as they are in the routine of the city, to succumb on occasion to the alluring image of life in a classical, white-painted French pavillon de chasse, the sort that rises serenely from daisy-studded grass and is backed by the oaks and beeches of an ancient French forest – comfortable, informal and charming.

But few of these urban dreamers would have the imagination, fortitude or good fortune to translate such bucolic romanticism into reality, and particularly into such a successful embodiment of rus-in-urbe yearnings as has the owner – and builder – of this house. For, far from occupying a Fragonard-like bosky setting, this pavilion is bounded by London terrace houses and a ceaselessly busy commuter road. Perhaps even stranger, the house has not always existed, nor even been transplanted in its entirety from the forest of Fontainebleau; it is new, brand new, having been designed, built and deco-rated within the last five years.

This house has been a long time in the making, and it has required considerable resolve and persis-tence from those involved, in pursuing to fruition a project that at first seemed to be barely within grasp. No one who was originally involved in the project had believed that this pipe dream would ever really come about. The first problem in this built-up area was to locate a suitable site; it took five years to find one and, even then, the occupants first had to be persuaded to sell. Once it had been acquired, there were a further two years during which the land was prepared and the house built. Just before work commenced, the owner succeeded in buying the second, adjoining plot of land, which resulted in a number of changes to the original plans, as the entrance had to be relocated. The build itself took only about eighteen months; building from scratch is often quicker than converting an existing property, not least because there are none of the hidden problems of old houses, such as dry rot, damp or woodworm, to contend with.

This was not a single-handed enterprise. Like an eighteenth-century patron, the owner enlisted help of a most superior kind: Chester Jones came up with the original vision of building a pavilion; architect Robin Moore-Ede worked on the plans; and decorator Robert Kime arranged much of the interior. They made for a dynamic and successful team. ‘I sketched an idea I had had for building a pavilion on a rather large plot of land,’ recalls Chester Jones. Into this sketch was subsequently incorporated the owner’s plan for all the ground-floor rooms to open directly on to the garden, to re-create, in effect, the feel of a country house in the town.

It was to be on only two floors – partly a con-straint imposed by the planners, partly a wish by the owner to have a manageable house without too many levels or rooms. A glass front door opens into a large, square, very light hall. Robert Kime designed the floor in Purbeck stone, and also the staircase, which he treated so that the treads look well used, in keeping with the lived-in feel of the house. Robert also provided the curtains in the hall, made from one of his own textiles, ‘Baillie Scott’, which is based on a design by the eponymous Arts and Crafts designer and architect.

Off the hall, the drawing room is warm and pretty, with a tangible air of comfort. Against walls that are painted a cross between celadon and milky sage – ‘I used a Farrow & Ball white and then mixed in other tones,’ says Robert – is ranged a harmonious collection of furniture, paintings and textiles. Both owner and decorator are pleased with the results. Robert has successfully unified a potentially problematic space, which contains five doors: ‘I wanted the arrangement of the room to be underwhelming, with a simple layout, comfortable seating, and not very grand. I knew that the owner wanted it to look as if it had always been there.’