From the front, the 1828 William Snider House in North Toronto maintains its heritage charm. But on the other side, it’s a wavy, architectural glass structure.Scott Norsworthy/Supplied
When I lived in Montreal in the 1990s, my parents would visit fairly regularly. Because it was my turf, I’d pick the restaurants and then, once home, select the music. And, unlike the storytellers such as Gordon Lightfoot or Neil Diamond that they preferred, I’d put on 1950s and 60s jazz.
“I don’t understand why they have to break away from the melody like that, it’s confusing,” I remember my mom saying.
“Well, the melody is a jump-off point,” I tried to explain, “but then each band member solos to see how far they can push the envelope; but they always come back together and return to the familiar.”
I don’t think she was convinced. Perhaps, if my mom had been able to tour a space designed by architects Ralph Giannone and Pina Petricone, she would’ve had the “Aha!” moment.
The house was built by the son of Loyalist soldier Martin Snider.Scott Norsworthy/Supplied
“I knew we were going to get to some solos, and I was waiting for these riffs,” homeowner Jody Cash says. Mr. Cash, Ms. Cash, Mr. Giannone and this writer are examining the primary bathroom floor, which is full of curves and blob shapes that eventually meet some structured wood. The walls, too, break out into solos (curves) before they settle down again.
“This is just quintessentially you guys,” Mr. Cash continues as he looks at Mr. Giannone. “The four different flooring materials, the wall material, the shape of the room, is just a summary of a lot of things we’ve seen come out of [your] firm.”
Though the interior was completely renovated, Giannone Petricone Associates made sure their designs referred to the heritage layout of the home.Scott Norsworthy/Supplied
It’s true: because Giannone Petricone Associates does a lot of work in the hospitality industry, they’ve become adept at architectural riffing where the eye can handle it, but getting back to the melody before end users suffer from sensory overload. And because they’ve done exquisite restoration work on heritage properties such as Picton, Ont.’s Royal Hotel (1879) and Stock TC in Toronto’s Postal Station K (1936), they’re not afraid to take on the classics as well.
Although sometimes it takes a little friendly arm-twisting: “I think Ralph and Pina wished that I brought them a piece of land with the most modern ambitions, unrestrained,” says Mr. Cash, a third-generation glass specialist.
“A hundred per cent,” Mr. Giannone answers with a laugh.
Instead, Mr. Cash and wife Julie presented GPA with North Toronto’s oldest house, the 1828 William Snider House at 744 Duplex Ave. But rather than blink an eye, the husband-and-wife team rolled up their sleeves.
Scott Norsworthy/Supplied
Built by the son of Loyalist soldier Martin Snider, William “replaced the 1804 log cabin with what formed the basis of the house that exists today … a 1½-storey brick cottage in the Regency style,” which was then “expanded” in the Victorian era, The Globe and Mail’s Simon Avery wrote in 2003.
There was no question about the cost of saving/improving the heritage structure (with partners ERA Architects) as Mr. Cash had admired the house for much of his life (it turned out to be about $500,000). But there was a conversation about the glassy dream house that the four friends had bandied about over the years.
The homeowner is a third-generation glass specialist.Scott Norsworthy/Supplied
The solution? Build it as dreamy and glassy as planned, but place it in the back, out of view. But unlike, say, the Michael Lee Chin Crystal at the Royal Ontario Museum, float that dream away from the old building, so that while jazz meets classical, there would be a beat-pause between the two songs.
And oh, what a fine overall composition this is! From the street, nothing but polychroming, quoins, corbels and a wee gable as crown. But walk the brambly path to the backyard and … whoa. A freeform Miles Davis-worthy freakout of thick glass walls containing curves, swerves and straight bits, all alternating between transparency and opacity.
But retrace one’s steps to the point where the two meet, and this: “Two hundred years from now, you’ll be able to clearly identify what the heritage structure was and what the addition was,” Mr. Cash says. “And [Toronto Heritage] liked that stark delineation.”
Scott Norsworthy/Supplied
There’s even a delineation on the inside. Open the front door and, despite a complete, to-the-studs renovation, there is still formality. “Everything here is referential to the heritage layout,” Mr. Giannone says. “So, the centre hall plan was a real hard line with [city] heritage, and we were completely onboard because, in the end, we really liked the two discrete, formal rooms.” The architects, which included Leo Lin, also positioned the new stair in the same place (the woggle shape it climbs up into is another jazz solo) and added tall, period-appropriate baseboards. The formal dining room’s bay window is original also, right down to the wavy, bubbled glass.
As the visitor walks into the new kitchen and adjoining family room, however, it’s a cacophony of wavy bits made of wood; glossy white cabinets; that almost-invisible glass wall; and a deep blue, felt-clad wall surrounding the big-screen television. However, just as many bits ground the eye: “Part of the architectural process was about knowing that Pina, Ralph and staff would guide it through restraint; in the Instagram era, there’s so much visual nonsense coming a client’s way.”
Scott Norsworthy/Supplied
The second floor feels much the same way, with moments of serenity and of exhilaration (like that primary bathroom), and then, up in the angled attic room under the mansard roof (their daughter’s), one can look out the little, arched window and pretend the long driveway that once connected the house to Yonge Street is still there. It helps that some original trees still trace its path. An exquisite marriage of jazz and classical, this restoration and addition is one for the ages.
“We’re not the first, we’re the third century to be adding and changing,” Mr. Cash says.
“Which is what intrigues me about heritage,” Mr. Giannone finishes. “It’s not frozen; it’s not ‘let’s go back and restore it to that point,’ right? I think the spirit of heritage is an accretive, evolutionary story.”
Scott Norsworthy/Supplied