A remarkable 1970s house in San Francisco's Noe Valley has been transformed through a careful renovation that honors its original architectural DNA while bringing it into the modern era. The project, led by architect Brett Terpeluk and his wife, landscape designer Monica Viarengo, showcases how thoughtful design can breathe new life into a historic property without sacrificing its unique character.

Terpeluk's journey to this project began in 2004 when he arrived in San Francisco as a young architect sent by renowned Italian architect Renzo Piano to oversee the avant-garde renovation of the California Academy of Sciences in Golden Gate Park. "It was sort of a very expensive science experiment, but it worked," Terpeluk recalled of his initial high-profile assignment. After completing that four-year project, he established his own architectural practice, frequently collaborating with Viarengo, whom he had met during his decade-long stint in Genoa, Italy.

Fifteen years later, it was Viarengo who brought Terpeluk onto this uniquely San Francisco project with rich local history and challenging design requirements. A couple had purchased the 1,800-square-foot house designed by Albert Lanier, husband of celebrated artist Ruth Asawa. Initially hired to design the landscape, Viarengo recommended her husband when the homeowners struggled to find an architect who would respect the property's existing character.

The house immediately impressed visitors with its provocative angles and skylights that created an ever-shifting gallery of sunlight and shadows. A wall of windows offered a spectacular triple view of the downtown skyline, the signature Twin Peaks covered with houses, and the bay beyond. However, the property showed significant signs of aging, with dreary and dated kitchen and bathrooms, rotting exterior shingles and rafters damaged by years of afternoon fog, and an overwhelming overlay of dark interior woods including redwood, pine, cedar, and oak that created an aesthetically stifling environment.

The homeowners had already dismissed two previous architects who they felt wanted to leave too much of their own mark on the property. They sought someone with a lighter touch who would honor the home's existing DNA. Terpeluk immediately connected with the owners, sharing their sense of awe and protectiveness toward the unique structure. "It was clear to me immediately: We really need to be careful with this house," Terpeluk explained. "To not cannibalize what's here or alter that incredible feeling you have when you walk through the front door."

That distinctive feeling could be credited to Lanier, who designed several houses in Noe Valley, including one nearby that he shared with Asawa and their six children. The iconic living room from that home was recreated inside SFMOMA as part of the museum's Ruth Asawa retrospective, which ran until September 2. Lanier died in 2008, just three years before this house came on the market listed just north of a million dollars, attracting more than 20 offers.

The design and construction process took approximately four years, during which Terpeluk worked like a surgeon, carefully removing large wall panels of rough-sawn redwood that would be nearly impossible to source today, restoring them, and reinstalling them. "The client and I really felt connected to this material, even though it darkened the space," Terpeluk said. "It created this cocoon-like environment." While committed to preserving many existing elements, the team eagerly reimagined others, replacing all original single-pane windows with modernized versions and swapping dark oak floors for lighter Douglas fir planks featuring tight black knots.

Terpeluk chose the new flooring material both for its history as rescued pier pilings from Treasure Island and because the black knots echo the new black steel railings lining the open tread stairs connecting the home's three levels. The most striking update features high-gloss kitchen cabinetry in vibrant pastels with a shade and shine reminiscent of Jordan almond candy. "The rough-sawn redwood had such a strong presence, I thought it would be really nice to have something with a sharp contrast or high gloss to play off of it," Terpeluk explained.

Recognizing that introducing bold colors into this sacred space was risky, Terpeluk enlisted color consultant Beatrice Santiccioli, a friend and fellow Italian transplant with exceptional instinct for perfect palettes. During her time with Apple, she curated the collectible colors for the iconic iPod Nano. "She just lives in this chromatic world, and she has such a deep understanding of color," Terpeluk noted, admitting the combination of pink, mint green, and yellow coating the kitchen would never have occurred to him.

Despite the daring infusion of contemporary color, the main floor retained its 1970s Northern California spirit as a womb of unfinished wood and slices of sky. The bottom two floors, carved into the hillside, received more dramatic renovation. Terpeluk removed the heavy wood treatment entirely and added square footage and higher ceilings by excavating beneath the house and utilizing dead space under an old deck. Where the lower levels once felt like awkward architectural afterthoughts, they now possess the same signature outdoor connection as the showstopping main floor.

Santiccioli extended her chromatic expertise throughout the downstairs, coating an indoor-outdoor kitchenette in foggy blue and adding deep crimson accents to a new bathroom. The colors harmonized beautifully with the flowers, fog, and sky visible outside. Each floor opens to its own thoughtfully landscaped green space designed by Viarengo, creating seamless indoor-outdoor living that would likely make Lanier, a passionate gardener often seen in farmer's overalls, proud of the house's evolution.

Reflecting on the project, Terpeluk emphasized the importance of understanding when to be bold versus when to respect architectural heritage. "There are times as an architect to be really bold and aggressive stylistically with interventions," he said. "And then there are times where you really have to step back and understand what kind of dialog you want to have with the history and the DNA of the structure. This house is almost like a living, breathing organism. And we wanted to keep it alive."