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When fresh powder starts coming down, the narrow road that leads from the base of Iron Mountain to the glass-walled house nestled on its rear slope can become treacherous. (At least one moving truck has ended up stranded in a snowbank while attempting to reach it.) But to the Houston family who owns the secluded lodge on the outskirts of Park City, Utah, that journey is part of what makes it feel like such a refuge.
The other part? That’s all down to the interiors, dreamed up by Houston-based Elizabeth Young. From the beginning, she knew the house had to be extra-inviting, not just to her real estate investor clients, but to their three newly minted adult children who range in age from 18 to 23 and are spread across the country from Los Angeles to the East Coast. They had vacationed as a fivesome in nearby Deer Valley for years, but now, the parents wanted something that felt permanent—a place guaranteed to lure the kids back, with friends in tow, for skiing holidays, summer hikes, and big Fourth of July parties.
Designer Elizabeth Young picked the vintage Stilnovo chandelier to complement the backdrop rather than compete with it, while deep custom lounge chairs and an even deeper sofa invite visitors to sink right in. The Frank Lloyd Wright ottoman, originally crafted in 1951 for the Benjamin Adelman House in Phoenix, looks very at home on the slopes.
Laura Resen
Above the limestone fireplace, a black steel wall camouflages a big-screen TV. A vintage oak game table is flanked by a pair of Edition Modern iron chairs upholstered in pumpkin-hued velvet inspired by fall foliage. Vintage Moroccan rug from Carol Piper Rugs.
Laura ResenWith that in mind, Young set about creating a space that was not just comfortable but intoxicating to everyone: parents, kids, and a rotating cast of guests that includes teenage boys, budding careerists, and well-established adults.
The first order of business? Generating a little surprise. “A mountain house can be very predictable,” says Young, who studiously avoided anything that even hinted of bearskins and antlers and went for a counterintuitively cool opening statement in the entry: a knockout Christian Lacroix wallpaper mural. Its mesmerizing abstract swirl resolves into an arrangement of ornate bird feathers in a way that immediately tells guests, “This isn’t what you were expecting.”
“The visual anchor of the dining room is nature, but I wanted to break it up with a hint of chaos and surprise,” says Young, who covered the ceiling in a hand-painted Porter Teleo wallpaper that echoes the landscape’s organic rhythm. Cane chairs by Ditte and Adrian Heath surround a 1960s Swedish pine table, whose slatted top calls to mind an elegant picnic table. A billowing Apparatus Cloud Chandelier floats above; on the floor is a custom wool shag from Carol Piper Rugs.
Laura ResenBut in her own way, Young stayed true to the mountain setting. “There’s so much glass, and wherever you look there’s a window with a stunning view,” she says. Nature, it seemed, was intent on stealing the show—so she let it. Many moves—like darkening a steel wall above the fireplace until the big-screen TV virtually disappeared into the blackness—were carefully calibrated to keep eyes from wandering away from the scene outdoors. And while Young typically embraces color and pattern, here, she held back to ensure the focus was always squarely on the pageantry of the seasons.
“We don’t have fall in Houston, and I’d never really tuned into the leaves changing before,” says Young. “In Park City, suddenly everything went from green to gold with all of these pumpkin and purply brown tones. It was intense.” And then came winter, with its blanket of white against slate gray mountaintops and ghostly silver trees. She let that guide her to a black-and-white palette that extends from the entry into a long hallway and knits all the rooms together, then dappled the spaces with shades stolen from the foliage that had so stunned her in the fall.
From a distance, the Christian Lacroix wallpaper mural in the entry can read like a modernist take on snow swirling through a vertiginous topographic trail map, but on close inspection, offers up the surprise of bird feathers. Combined with the artwork—Elliott Puckette’s Rushen Coatie—plus a 1950s pencil reed enfilade and a midcentury cane chair, it’s a layered vision of pattern that sets a chic, informal mood. The 1950s French brass table lamp is from M. Naeve.
Laura Resen
Built for a crowd of boys, the bunk room is a true heathered-wool hideaway, wrapped in a flannel wallpaper from Maya Romanoff. The blanket of coziness is countered with pinstripes from Dedar on the custom bolsters and drapes. A 1970s iron sling chair and vintage Turkish tulu rug shifts the room into more grown-up territory.
Laura ResenShe also set about warming up the undeniably contemporary architecture (think massive stone walls and acres of plate glass) with the rich comforting textures of linen, wool, and velvet, which she applied to a series of cozy lounging spots that offer up a calm respite from the rugged outdoors in both summer and winter. In the biting cold of January, the older girls can schuss down the slopes with their friends and then fall into a cosseting group of bouclé-covered lounges by a fire that crackles away in a modern minimalist black-and-white tableau. In the heat of August, the family can set out for a trek straight up the mountain, and
when the sun becomes too strong, descend for a meal beneath the shade of a wallpapered ceiling in the dining room; its deep greens and browns reflect the random rows of trees just outside, making it feel like a leafy tree house, especially when the glass doors are opened wide and meals spill out onto the balcony. And then there’s the cozy fun of the flannel-lined bunk room, wallpapered in a heathered wool wallpaper that muffles the hijinks of the teenage boys who pile into the four luxury bunks.
With so many hard surfaces, the primary bath was “in desperate need of some richness,” says Young, who accessorized the existing soaking tub with long slate-gray wool drapes and a bouclé-clad Italian ottoman. The rug is a remnant from the vintage Moroccan that was cut down to size for the great room.
Laura ResenOff in the primary bedroom, the parents have their own haven, a place where they can slip into a cocoon that feels especially welcoming when the snow is falling. The custom Porter Teleo wallpaper provides a beguiling organic backdrop that’s hard to identify; it’s the color of slate, yet reads as soft and warm. Paired with wool drapes and a custom bed swathed in aubergine velvet—a shade cribbed from the turning leaves—it all adds up to space that urges one to sink in and stay. As in other parts of the home, much attention was paid to lighting, with the glare of over-heads banished in favor of more atmospheric lamps, including a pair with tessellated stone bases that speak to the peak just outside the window.
Sumptuous, serene, and surrounded by balconies, the primary bedroom allows for stepping outside for a morning coffee or evening nightcap before snuggling in for the night. Porter Teleo’s hand-painted Fluid Tones wallpaper creates a moody texture that’s deepened with dark purple wool drapes and upholstery from Metaphores and a custom bed enveloped in Schumacher’s Gainsborough velvet. Walnut and wicker bench, Found, Houston.
Laura RevesGiven that this was Young’s fifth project with the owners, she had the luxury of trust and time to find key pieces. The clients, avid collectors with a passion for midcentury French and Italian furniture, fell particularly hard for hard-to-come-by 1960s cane chairs by Ditte and Adrian Heath, which took a full year to assemble as a full set of 12. The family also loves puzzles as much as they love lacing up their hiking boots, but finding just the right game table for the great room took months; now, the midcentury oak-and-chrome number in the great room is a favorite gathering spot. “I let the house evolve and build with collections as the family lived in the space,” says Young. “That’s how things become meaningful, and pieces start to matter.”
For their part, the owners were thrilled with the house. “It’s rare to have the opportunity to collaborate with someone who knows you so well and who shares your vision for the space,” says the client. Yes, it’s a mountain house, but it’s not that kind of mountain house. It’s exactly the gathering place they dreamed of, an alluring escape where they can buckle up their ski boots and carve a few turns or go for a long run and then meet everyone back at home base—for decades to come.
THIS ARTICLE ORIGINALLY APPEARED IN VOLUME 15 OF FREDERIC MAGAZINE. CLICK HERE TO SUBSCRIBE!
