When the owners of this Big Sur property called Field Architecture to commission a house, Jess Field, AIA, was already well-acquainted with the rugged California coastline. He and his father, architect Stan Field, had spent many years surfing together in Northern California and marveling at the landforms at the edge of the continent. “They have a complex geology resulting from unique tectonic action taking place just below the surface,” he says. “It creates a clash of surfaces, some old, some new. The softer rock erodes faster than the hard rock, revealing all these nooks and crevices.”
In fact, Jess’ interest in wild landscapes began decades earlier. It came from his father, who got his first house commission in his native South Africa in 1972. Wondering how he could possibly intervene in the pristine landscape of giant boulders on the undeveloped outskirts of Johannesburg, Stan spent a week camping on the site. He developed two rules of engagement with the land, Jess says. One was that no boulder could be moved; the other was that no parts of the structure could touch the rocks.
“I was born a few months after that was completed,” Jess says. “When I was growing up, there were pencils on every surface, and I was drawing and sketching from an early age. When I joined my dad’s office formally about 20 years ago, after my graduate studies at Berkeley and spending time in other offices, this was a kind of unifying interest—how to continue this dialogue between what we make and what nature makes. It leads us to properties that are nature focused and became our passion and calling.”
In this case, his clients had merged two back-to-back properties, one containing a stick-built house that had reached the end of its expected lifespan in the harsh coastal conditions. As his team explored the land with the builder, they discovered a section of soft ground that was revealed to be yard waste deposited over decades of use. Beneath it was a rocky ravine—a finding that dramatically changed the reading of the land.
Although the clients initially panicked when they realized their seemingly flat site was split in half topographically, they soon came on board with Field Architecture’s solution: to create an entry structure on one side of the ravine and a living structure on the other, connected by a glass-enclosed bridge. As Jess recalls that conversation, “The owners said, ‘Are you expecting us to carry our groceries over a bridge?’ We said, ‘Yes, this is what the site demands.”
Excavating the ravine and reestablishing the topsoil and native plant species restored its eco-function, including the path for a seasonal stream. This earthwork created not just a riparian corridor but opportunities for bringing sunlight and natural ventilation into the building’s two volumes. Each one is nestled into the high side of the land on the east. The entry volume contains a garage and minimalist foyer, or genkan, where a spiral stair descends to a guest room. Across the bridge, the east-west oriented main volume houses an open kitchen, dining, and living area on the first floor, with three bedrooms, a laundry, and a small wine cellar below. Two offices east of the living zone are rotated slightly north to align with the topography, as is the garage.
“We took the long bar and twisted it to fit nicely into the contours of the land,” Jess says. “The building grows out of the high side of the land, giving it a formal balance and a quietness.” It’s a place of refuge from the other side of the house that looks out from the cantilevered deck on the west and a pool terrace on the south, where the land starts to fall away toward the Pacific.
Faceted Forms
Seeking to anchor the architecture into the site as nature composed it, Jess created a series of faceted stone walls that “give the illusion that the ground has eroded over time and revealed the building.” He set a datum for the height of clerestory-topped walls, which read as stone monoliths with two different textures. The main face of each wall consists of natural cleft stone, which breaks up the light hitting it, while the chamfered faces are sawn and smooth, giving them a slightly greater sheen.
“Not only does it echo the banked facets of rock faces in the ocean, but it’s almost a feeling that the forces of erosion are shared between the architecture and landforms,” Jess says. “The effect is quite magical. In afternoon or early morning, there’s a feeling of the house blending into the rock formations of the coast.” Laid in thin, striated courses that nod to the cliff faces below, the stone also takes on the practical task of storing the sun’s heat and releasing it slowly when temperatures drop at night.
Inspired by the ocean and the surrounding Monterey cypress trees, the house’s thin, floating roof forms lunge toward the south. “There are few places on earth as dramatically flat as the sea at the horizon,” Jess says. The trees’ pointed horizontal branching habit supplied another design cue that resulted in cantilevering rooflines with a subtle double taper. They rest on columns inside the stone walls, clipping the high summer sun while allowing it to reach the center of the home in the winter.
Cracking open one of the doors lets in sea breezes that help to exhaust the hot air at clerestory level, creating a gentle breeze throughout the house. Those passive measures, along with high-performance glass and deep walls with ample space for insulation, are paired with a large rooftop solar array to offset energy demands.
Hard and Soft
Indeed, all the interior spaces are oriented with the sun’s winter and summer arc in mind. And vantage points to the horizon are balanced by inward-facing views that immerse the occupants in the landscape. “I lived in Japan for a while and loved the concepts of borrowed landscape and orienting the body toward the landscape in a very sensory way,” the architect says. “We wanted to see the house almost as a lens through which we experience the landscape in a highly choreographed way.”
The entry paving continues into the arrival building, which contains a bench for removing shoes and a step up onto the wood floor. This platform provides a glimpse of the ravine and trees and, turning left, an expansive view of the bridge and the meandering streambed. On the other side of the bridge, a right turn leads into the great room. “You walk from the compression of the narrow bridge to the expanse of the Pacific wrapping south to west,” Jess says. And while glass walls pocket away on the west and south, the big views are modulated with solid sections that anchor a fireplace or seating.
For example, the living room’s fireplace wall contains an art niche for a cyanotype commissioned from West Coast artist Meghann Riepenhoff. Created from a series of photo paper exposures in the tide pools below the house, it is one of several art pieces the team commissioned to showcase the work of up-and-coming female artists. In addition, the architects designed the living room’s “Big Sur” chairs featuring adjustable leather seats with cubbies in the back for blankets. Carved out of claro walnut slabs, the angular chairs reference the building’s massing.
So does the 16½-foot-long kitchen island, whose tapered base recalls a skiff or an island in the sea. With a bar top fashioned from a slab of California laurel to match the dining table that the firm also designed, it floats above oak flooring that was used throughout the house, along with steamed beech millwork. “We think about the inside as a dialogue between the hard, cool stone and soft, warm wood. It marries something rugged on the exterior befitting the intensity of the coast and the big rocks in the landforms, with this beautiful lining of the soft wood that’s pleasant to interact with and walk on in bare feet,” Jess says.
The idea of “carved solids” is a throughline in the home’s detailing. On the stairs to the lower-level bedrooms, the wood treads are tapered, like the geometries in the rest of the house. They are suspended on steel cables that form a scrim-like guardrail in the stairwell, lit by a two-story window and integral skylight that frames a tree.
The lower level is L-shaped, with the primary suite under the living and dining area facing west. A laundry room and wine cellar sit under the kitchen, and a perpendicular hallway leads to two kids’ bedrooms under the pool patio. The conversation between hard and soft materials continues in the primary bathroom, where a wood tub sits in a glassy space between stone walls that extend from outside to inside. Gray limestone floors complement the walls with a warmer tone and a softer feel underfoot.
A bedroom partition, doubling as a headboard, is an art installation the architects call “Tidewall.” Thick planks of claro walnut were carved to depict the tidal elevations for each week of the year. Light bounces off the 52 undulating strips at different angles, creating a glistening effect like that of water in sunlight. “It feels like going to sleep amongst shimmering waves,” Jess says. “The tide chart shows the height of water above median sea level, and you can see how it relates to the moon’s phases. It captures the magic of a place without making it overly literal and is a wonderful way to bring our creativity together with a beautiful sense of craftsmanship, allowing the architecture to keep working to be an echo of what inspired it.” He adds: “It took several trials to get the wood finish just right. Furniture-grade was too glossy, so we reapplied a lighter coat that produced the right amount of sheen.”
Window on Nature
Alongside the formal gestures that make way for the landscape, the scheme is sprinkled with small moves that invite nature studies. Stepping stones outside the guest bedroom under the entry volume beckon visitors to venture out beneath the bridge. There, a recirculating fountain built into the rocks lets guests enjoy the sound of water and produces white noise that screens the sound of traffic on Highway 1. Wall niches, including one at the entry and another in the primary bedroom, offer places to display found objects, such as shells. And a low ribbon of window provides a ground-level glimpse of the wind-sheltered garden between the two offices.
Outside, the symbiosis between natural and manmade continues. A small plunge pool with a hot tub incorporates natural rock forms, reflecting the tide pools below the house. So does the firepit on the sheltered southeast side of the house, an additional spot for enjoying the land. “On the coast, my view is that it’s better to not over structure the landscape but rather feather it into the native areas to maintain this incredible rugged and rich landscape,” Jess says.
He adds, “This residence is shaped by the confluence of what nature makes and what we make. The beauty of the Big Sur coast is that you have all these little ravines, and each one creates the microclimatic conditions for a unique ecosystem to form. One side is sheltered from the wind, while the other isn’t. Life takes hold in these nooks and crannies. That’s what Big Sur is all about.” The house excels at celebrating those conditions and creating a healthy relationship with the land, rather than one displacing the other.
Big Sur
Big Sur Coast, California
Architect: Jess Field, AIA, and Stan Field, SAIA, principals in charge; Jeffrey Pilotte, project architect, Field Architecture, Palo Alto, California
Builder: Hunt Brothers Construction, Monterey, California; Dowbuilt, San Francisco
Interior designer: Field Architecture
Landscape architect: Joni Janecki, Joni L. Janecki & Associates, Santa Cruz, California
Project size: 7,536 square feet
Site size: 2.27 acres
Construction cost: Withheld
Photography: Joe Fletcher
Key Products
Cladding: Gray quartzite
Cooktop: Gaggenau
Countertops: Black granite
Decking: Ipe
Entry doors/hardware: Sun Valley Bronze, custom
Faucets: Axor
Flooring: White oak
Home control systems: Lutron
Millwork: Berkeley Mills, Giles Healey, custom
Outdoor built-in grill: Lynx
Refrigerator/freezer: Sub-Zero
Washer/dryer: Electrolux
Window wall systems: Sky-Frame
Windows: Reynaers