North
Standing in “North” is like standing in a view camera watching the light move from point to point throughout the day. At certain moments, it is sharp and penetrating; at others, merely a soft, vaporous glow. Occasionally the floor and walls seem to dematerialize and the space becomes a pure abstraction: light as its own subject and context.
This tiny garage apartment in Oklahoma City is named for Territorial photographer North Losey. Built in the early 1920s, it stands to the rear of an Italianate mansion of the same vintage now owned by Losey’s granddaughter. Originally a maid’s quarters, North has been transformed into a space of almost monastic purity and simplicity.
“I wanted to design something that honored the past but was also part of the present,” Elliott explains. “So, instead of neo-Dust Bowl, I created this abstract, light-filled space with no telephone or television, where people can open the windows and let the breezes blow through.”
Because of North’s location in a National Register district, exterior changes had to be minimal. Elliott peeled back the outside walls to the studs and recovered them with Gunite. He also installed double-hung wooden windows to match the originals and designed carriage doors for the garage – still in use – to replace clunky 1950s versions. The only hint of the surprises to come is the exterior staircase. The original wooden steps have been replaced by steel grates, which rise to a glass door marked with a square of black film and North Losey’s signature: a photographic negative substituted for a nameplate. The apartment itself, only 475 square feet, is divided into four sections, each focused on a window and a function: entry, dressing, toilet/shower, bedroom. The sections are separated by sand-blasted glass panels that preserve luminosity and a level of privacy.
In the center of the space stands a square white column – probably an old stove flue - with black slate on one side for guests to scribble with messages and impressions. Wood flooring at the column's base has been replaced by a narrow glazed reveal that exposes the garage below, establishing a physical and metaphoric link between old and new, utilitarian and rarefied.
If the plan of North is clarity itself, its moods are as magical as photography. Elliott's four minimalist spaces parse the Oklahoma light. The northern rays are typically soft and forgiving, a reprieve, while the western light comes in straight and hard as a winter storm. A hinged panel in front of the west window is coated with a holographic film that, for a few minutes each day, splashes the room with color. The windows are also equipped with shades that can be drawn tight to create a silent black box.
North’s moods range from serene and contemplative to cinematic and phantasmagoric. It is as Elliott says, “a place to get reacquainted with peace and quiet,” but also a place to listen to the land.
