Shelter from the Storm

At snowy Kicking Horse resort, a Calgary couple builds their private haven.

By Michael Harris | Photographs by Henri Georgi



Kicking Horse country gets more than seven metres of snow each year; the designers at Chernoff
Architect delivered relief from the elements with a house of stone and timber.

Three million people drive past the town of Golden each year. Some of them are making the two-and-a-half hour trek from Calgary to Kicking Horse Resort, where about 3,000 acres of ski and snowboarding terrain make up the first year-round resort to open in the Rockies in the past quarter century. And a very few of those people are also heading home.

Architects Patrick Moskwa and Catherine Chernoff teamed up with interior designer Coco Cran to create an elegant residence at Kicking Horse for a couple that was looking to live where most only play-on the mountainside. The place would do all the work of a ski lodge (indeed, the owners can ski in and ski out from their backyard), but it would also possess the well-thought-out finesse, comforts and luxuries of a primary residence.

The Golden Ski House, as it came to be called, "doesn’t look like much from the street," says Chernoff. "It’s nondescript." But hillside houses (this one has a six-metre difference in elevation between the front and back yards) have a way of opening themselves up, parcel by parcel, as you descend into grander rooms. In this case, a set of exterior stairs brings visitors past a wall of clean fir slats to a landing and courtyard that eases into a living room with a bank of triple-glazed windows overlooking the wintry scene. Seven metres of snow fall here each year.


DINING: Variegated tiles have a long-loved patina that feels grounded and elemental.
Purple curtains and a chandelier of glass "snowballs" lend touches of fancy.

The elements are more than a decorative, snow-globe bonus; they inform the design. "There’s a huge snow load there, obviously," says Moskwa, "so that had a major impact on roof overhangs. You’re designing a house where the roof can’t have a single valley." One of those necessary peaks has the whimsical effect of creating a master bathroom (pictured at left) with a cathedral’s point down the spine of its ceiling.
"And then we had to create space for all that snow to melt and run off," continues Moskwa, "so we built the living room above grade, to create a space for nature to do its thing." Smart concessions to the elements often result in virtuous design. In this case, the living room "bridge," which actually hovers above snowbanks, creates a strong line of fir beams that, ironically, grounds the house.

Inside, the elements continue to exert their influence. Moskwa and Chernoff asked their timber framer to create a ceiling with strong, organic beams above the main living space, which has a sheltering, comforting effect. Stomp inside from a blizzard and you’re greeted by similar warm embraces from windows and hallways that are boldly framed with fir, all of which betray a fondness for spare Japanese aesthetics. (One of the homeowners lived in Japan for a spell.) The cozy effect can be made more literal, too: those porcelain floor tiles are all heated.

The homeowners are still commuting from Calgary to their mountain retreat, but it’s hardly a casual cabin. He got a billiard room with padded walls; she got space for her art deco collection and bronze sculptures. "They were adamant," says Cran, "that this would not be a cabin. It would be a home. This is where their hearts are." WL

 

 

OUR SISTER PUBLICATIONS
ADVERTISEMENT