A 1950s house in Singapore is reborn as a contemporary home open to the elements

Singaporean architect Chang Yong Ter and his client go back to their army days in the late 1980s, when both attended officer cadet school. They lost touch afterwards, reconnecting only decades later when Chang’s work appeared in a magazine, and his old friend recognised the name. By then, the client had already set his sights on a plot: a corner site in Bukit Timah, one of the island’s toniest neighbourhoods. “I thought the plot had potential,” the client says. “It was squarish and elevated with an unblocked rear, and adjacent to a quiet cul-de-sac. We liked the location as it was a relatively quiet and small estate that was still close to amenities.” Living just down the road, he drove past it for years and, one day, the ageing 1950s house on the plot came up for sale. An elderly widow lived there at the time and it was barely habitable – the kitchen and bathrooms were stuck in another era, the roof tiles failing. But its footprint was worth keeping, the original walls were sound and the scale suited a family of three: the owner, his wife and their son, studying in Ireland and back only for summers. The brief he gave Chang, founder of Chang Architects, was just as compact: a single storey, three bedrooms, every room opening onto the garden, parking for two cars. “That’s really about it,” he says. That terse brief produced a house that, like a palimpsest, quietly carries its old self beneath the new. Chang kept the original roofline and rebuilt the pitched structure beneath it, extending the house at the rear and sides instead of starting over. He also levelled what was once a sloping driveway at the street entrance, so arriving now means climbing a few shallow steps before reaching the door – enough to keep the parked cars out of view from the street and to lend a low, unassuming house an unexpected quiet formality as you approach. Walk through the 208 square metre (2,240 sq ft) house today and the join between past and present is legible mostly in feeling, not in any visible seam. It is an intimate family home with the proportions of something built in a different age, but with none of its faded old rooms. That sense of continuity starts with orientation. The house stands almost directly on an east-west axis – a layout that, on paper, should mean punishing afternoon sun. Chang countered it with deep eaves and a screen of heliconia to keep direct rays off the walls, and a lawn to the west that absorbs the rest. Both ends open directly to the elements, letting air flow straight through. The result is that rare ability, in Singapore anyway, to live quite comfortably without the need for air conditioning. The materials underline the same instinct for shade, tactility and craftsmanship, giving the interiors a cabin-like warmth. The floors and walls are swathed in thin planks of sturdy balau, a tropical hardwood, while the ceilings are in marine ply. Outside, the decking and facade cladding are in Onewood, a Singapore-made reconstituted timber built to resist termites and fire without chemical treatment. Almost nothing about the construction is left raw or exposed – even storage has been folded away behind the timber panelling, so that no wall carries visible clutter. Chang’s bravura move was to insert a courtyard comprising a pond and a small porch anchored by a handsome Flore Pleno tree on the eastern end of the house. From every vantage point, the eye is drawn towards this bijou pocket of green and gently lapping water. The pond was originally meant for koi, until the owner’s son deemed them “a bit old-fashioned” in favour of goldfish, which have mostly settled into pond life undisturbed, save for the odd hungry bird. A sliding glass screen can close off the courtyard entirely, letting the adjoining lounge run on air conditioning when the weather calls for it. When not needed, the screen itself disappears into a pocket built into the stone wall. The interiors, meanwhile, are the owner’s own work, put together without a decorator and furnished with pieces acquired over years spent in Britain and Ireland. An antique breakfast table anchors the sitting area, a scatter of mid-century Danish furniture keeps a low-slung silhouette against the height of the pitched roof, and scattered on the walls are paintings by local artists such as Chen Wen Hsi and Lim Tze Peng. “I don’t think I have any particular style,” the owner says, though the mood throughout the house feels otherwise, with thoughtfully picked, unfussy pieces that never compete with the timber around them. Everything has been chosen with the same restraint Chang built into the walls – a fitting coda for a project that began, after all, with two old army buddies deciding to trust each other with something this personal. Living area Transit sofa and Nightfly chair from Time & Style (timeandstyle.com). Daybed from Handvark (handvark.com). Ten coffee table by CondeHouse (condehouse.com). Lucent side tables by Matthew Hilton for Case Furniture (casefurniture.com). Pukti table lamp from Iittala (iittala.com). TSSG108 sculpture stool between armchairs from Time & Style. Painting of Chinatown by Singaporean artist Tung Yue Nang, from Artsafe (artsafesg.com). Courtyard A pond and porch grace the eastern end of the house. Bathroom ME by Starck wall-hung toilet from Duravit (duravit.com). Shower hardware from Vola (vola.com). Main bedroom Eden h.28 bed from Bolzan (bolzan.com). Grace table lamp from Oligo (oligo.de). Main bedroom en suite A counterweighted vertical sliding window is integrated with a fixed mirror, allowing seamless adjustment of light, ventilation and views. HV1+30 1 handle mixer from Vola. Kitchen Chang Yong Ter designed the kitchen. Dekton countertop from Sirius (dektonsurfaces.co.uk). Cabinet door finishes are balau. Appliances from Miele (miele.com). Casual dining area Dining table from Air Division (airdivision.com). Antique dining chairs from owner’s private collection. Formal dining area Nineteenth century Regency-period mahogany breakfast table, William IV-period dining chairs, Regency-period rosewood side cabinet, all from owner’s private collection. Eames 670 lounge chair and 671 ottoman from Herman Miller (hermanmiller.com). Bedroom Slab desk from Tom Dixon (tomdixon.net). Aeron office chair from Herman Miller. Tried + Tested Clean lines and a houseful of stuff are not mutually exclusive. The trick is storage space deep enough to disappear. Build full-height shelving directly into the wall, then cover it behind timber panelling cut to match the grain and joinery running around it. There is no visible hardware, no seam giving the game away – just a press to release the catch. Those chasing genuinely calm, empty-looking walls do not need to own less. They just need a false wall with a few extra inches of depth behind it.

A 1950s house in Singapore is reborn as a contemporary home open to the elements

.css-1c6uqr6{color:inherit;font-weight:inherit;font-size:inherit;font-family:inherit;line-height:inherit;overflow-wrap:break-word;}Architect Chang Yong Ter blended old and new in reworking the 2,240 sq ft single-storey house that stays cool without air conditioning

Architect Chang Yong Ter blended old and new in reworking the 2,240 sq ft single-storey house that stays cool without air conditioning