How do you retain the soul of an historic house when renovating?

Canvas the average interiors enthusiast, and their dream home will be something historic. In many ways this is fortunate, since we have, in Britain, the oldest housing stock in Europe – but it also presents challenges. The historic atmosphere is, “the essence of perhaps why you wanted the home in the first place,” identifies Francis Sultana, who lives in a Georgian, Grade I-listed set of rooms in Albany, and is currently restoring John Fowler’s former home, the National Trust-owned Hunting Lodge. And yet rewind 200 years, and we lived quite differently, without electricity, central heating or indoor bathrooms. It’s telling that when the House & Garden team each chose the historic house they’d like to live in, the majority identified houses that have been preserved as capsules of their 20^th century state – i.e., they come with some mod-cons.

Largely, this is symptomatic of one of the issues faced when it comes to historic atmosphere. “Most early buildings have been through the mill with change – the fashions of each century dictated it so,” points out Alastair Hendy, writer, chef, food stylist, shop keeper, and restorer of an extraordinary Tudor house in Hastings that is open to the public at various times through the year. Another hurdle is that many historic buildings are listed, so “you can’t make alterations to the fabric of the building without first seeking consent,” he continues. If you’re a first-timer we’d generally recommend working with an architect or interior designer for that last, for they’ll have the experience to know what is and isn’t possible and be able to get the necessary planning permission. But alongside, between the houses that have been featured in House & Garden, and the interior designers on our Top 100 list, there are numerous considerations for achieving the holy grail of retaining historic atmosphere and making a house comfortable - whether you’re working with a grand Palladian hall, or a two-up, two-down cottage.

Renovation vs restoration, and preserving the original fabric

“Renovation can be a dirty word, whereas restoration is not,” explains Alastair Hendy – who is now working on another project in Hastings, a Regency townhouse. “Restoration implies that you are in tune with your house and are putting the things back that have been destroyed over the years,” he continues, contrasting that with what he terms the “21^st century scourge” of removing walls to create open plan space. “Interestingly, the room that has turned into the size of a football pitch, the kitchen, is returning to a series of smaller spaces – a scullery, a pantry, a boot room. Keeping walls keeps atmosphere, and the proportions of the house as it was first designed.” He suggests adding internal windows as the magical solution to maintaining historical integrity, “they bring light and lead the eye through the house.”

Complications can arise with mouldings. Rupert Cunningham, who heads up Ben Pentreath’s architectural practice, is well-versed in period properties, and is currently engaged in the restoration of his own 18^th century house in North Yorkshire, which you can follow on Instagram @georgianhouse_yorkshire. “The most important thing is to keep as much of the original as possible,” he says – while acknowledging that this isn’t always straightforward. Post-war, when the country was gripped by determined modernisation, stripping period homes of their features became quite the thing – but their absence might not be the only anomaly. Quite often, observes Rupert, a period house will contain “a fireplace or even a staircase that might be older than the house itself. Or a Georgian house will have had a picture rail added in Victorian times.” If you are working with an 18^th century house know that the Georgian Group has a handy series of advice leaflets on floors, doors, fireplaces and more – but, concedes Rupert, when deciding what to keep and what to take out, it largely comes down to aesthetic preferences, how much of the house’s story through the ages you want to tell, as well as the practicalities of preserving, say, an inter-war conservatory that’s been tacked onto a Regency house.

There are times when the conditions of walls and ceilings might be such that the temptation is to start again – especially if you’re going to use historic techniques such as lathe and plaster, also known as horsehair plaster. Carlos Garcia encountered such a situation in a Tudor house with Queen Anne additions in Norfolk. The builders suggested taking down the panelling and the ceiling in the hall that had been mucked about in Edwardian times, but instead, at Carlos’s instruction, the panelling was repaired and the uneven walls were retained. “If something works, work within these limitations, make good and leave it,” he advises. Alastair concurs with this approach: “one nugget of advice that stayed with me is that you are stripping things back, then ‘leave at one element untouched, for it’s like a calling card from the past.’”

Creating new historic atmosphere

“Sometimes you have to create architecture and texture where there is none – and that’s a skill,” remarks Alastair. He describes his Tudor house in Hastings as “all smoke and mirrors. The house is a living skeuomorph, it mimics the past and fools many into believing they’re stepping into ‘Tudor times’, when they are not. It has electricity, hot running water, baths, central heating, and – even – underfloor heating in the kitchen.” The success is due to Alastair’s having studied 16^th century building practices, and his method of “reconstructing the evolution of the house as it might have happened when utilities, such as plumbing and lighting, first came into domestic use.” Thus there are Victorian cast iron radiators, and 1930s Bakelite switches. More, vintage finds have been repurposed: the sink in the main bathroom is made up from a Romanian fish filleting table and an English bread proving bowl, and the bath is a French wine pressing tub, lined with lead and plumbed. Meanwhile, in the tiny room at the top of the house, Alastair created built-in box beds from reclaimed sea-worn groyne oak that fit under the slanting eaves. “Creating atmosphere doesn’t equal impractical,” he says, while pointing out that at the same time, there is nothing to jolt you into the 20^th century.

Admittedly, there will be those who will look at Alastair’s French wine pressing bath tub, and conclude it’s not for them – at least, not every night of every week (Alastair does not live in the house full time.) At the other end of the spectrum is the State Bathroom at Wolterton Hall, where serial restorers Peter Sheppard and Keith Day have created a scene that – if you didn’t know better – you’d think was original 18^th century. The bath is surrounded by antique Romanesque alabaster panels (the shortfall was made up by casting copies in plaster and having them specialist painted to look the same) and there’s a “useful marble-lined breakfast, coffee and tea cupboard in a redundant Kentian door case complete with built-in Champagne fridge,” details Peter.

These distinct examples hold similar lessons. Firstly, while of course you can go to Atkey & Co and buy excellent quality reproduction mouldings and doors from the same period as your house, and do the same at Jamb for fireplaces – you can also scour reclamation yards, antique shops, and Jamb’s collection of antique fireplaces. And secondly, just because something isn’t technically a basin - or a fridge - it doesn’t mean it can’t become one.

Decoration

There isn’t a single straightforward answer when it comes to decorating a historic house; yes, you can fill rooms with original furniture and paintings – or furniture that has been in the house at some point. Peter and Keith bought furniture and paintings from the Walpole family, who had owned Wolterton Hall from its very beginning, right up until Peter and Keith bought it, and Francis Sultana has acquired various pieces that John Fowler bought specifically for the Hunting Lodge, thus creating a tangible connection to that moment of the house’s past. But on the other hand, says Alastair, “stripping back walls to bare bones can work with sleek modern furniture – in fact, such contrasts can accentuate history, more than when antique furniture predominates.” He also reminds us that upholstery is a relatively modern invention, and “you shouldn’t deny yourself a good sofa.” So let’s look at precedent, and the ideas within.

When it comes to wall treatment, there are useful paint lessons from different centuries, in addition to which it can be possible to determine exactly what colour a room was at its conception. Francis Sultana brought in a team of craftspeople to work on his set in Albany, the blue of the blue salon was discovered during the conservation process, and recreated, proving a perfect backdrop to his and David Gill’s collection of contemporary art and design. For the sitting room of the aforementioned house in Norfolk that Carlos Garcia worked on, Edward Bulmer mixed a magnolia paint ‘reminiscent of what is found in old country houses. Edward’s own Queen Anne house contains a wealth of inspiration – hanging at the windows of the music room are pink and green curtains that he describes as “very much Robert Adam’s palette”, made from bedcovers found in Jaipur. Returning to walls, when Peter and Keith arrived at Wolterton Hall, “the walls were covered by green hessian that had been up for years.” They took the whole lot down and found the original panelling behind it. While in the 18^th century, the panelling would never have been seen, “our tastes have changed, and we decided to leave it as it is rather than recovering it. It’s got all of the imperfections of pin holes where previous tapestries were hung.” They also – in rather a genius move – hung all the Walpole family portraits in one room, according to how attractive they are; i.e. the most beautiful or handsome are at eye level.

For the problem with slavish recreation is that it can, says Ben Pentreath, feel as though you are living in a museum set piece – to which end he is well known for interiors that have a “sense of evolution”; translated, there will be items that could conceivably have been in the house at its genesis, alongside furniture, textiles and wallpapers from different eras. It’s the ‘layered’ interior that so many of us aim for. Equally, says Alastair, much atmosphere can be conveyed via evocation, rather than reproduction. There isn’t a single piece of Tudor furniture in his Tudor house, and in his Regency house, a sense of the 1820s is being transmitted through “thinking vertical: architectural details and fittings must be tall and slim. Panelling, lighting and furnishings are to be almost Shaker in their tapered, pared-back elegance.” Size of house is relevant: at Wolterton Hall, the State rooms are what Peter and Keith describe as “traditional” while downstairs the ground floor is more modern - there’s a contemporary Smallbone kitchen with a Gaggenau oven, and the walls are hung with their collection of 20^th century art. In a smaller house, this contrast might jar – and Alastair describes how in his Tudor house, he has made “each room a chapter in the same story, so the house reads as a unified whole.”

Let’s finish with a familiar clause: the above contains a wealth of ideas, but how you apply those ideas comes down to just how much of the past you think is needed. Alastair admits that in the Tudor house, it’s “laid on thick” – and that was his aim. Like so many things in life and decoration, when it comes to historic atmosphere - and indeed comfort - there’s a spectrum.

The opening dates and times for Alastair Hendy’s Tudor house can be found here.