One might reasonably expect an architect’s own house to make a statement, and on that account the home that Ron Radziner designed for himself, his wife, graphic-and-jewelry designer Robin Cottle, and their children, Asher and Lexi, does not disappoint. Situated on a wooded parcel in Los Angeles’s Mandeville Canyon, the structure declares its principles sotto voce: simplicity of line, economy of form, clarity of materials, harmony with nature. It’s a message familiar to anyone who has followed the work of Marmol Radziner , the design/build firm Radziner founded with Leo Marmol in 1989, which is renowned for both stellar restorations of important modernist houses and finely detailed contemporary creations.
Custom stools belly up to the kitchen island topped in stained oak; vintage Murano-glass lamps.
“The parti for any architectural design is dictated by the site. Yes, Robin and I discussed the rooms we needed, how we want to live, and so on. But the form of the house evolved from the basic considerations of how it sits on the land and how it embraces the trees and views,” Radziner avers.
In the case of the family’s new home, the site selected by Radziner and Cottle is distinctly dissimilar to the relatively urban lots they’ve inhabited in the past. “We lived in Venice [California] for nearly 25 years, and, frankly, we loved it. We could ride our bikes to most places. But the commute to Asher and Lexi’s school was just too long and grueling,” Cottle explains, echoing the familiar lament of many traffic-tortured Angelenos. “Canyon life is definitely a change. It feels like living in a park,” she adds.
Sycamore trees scattered across the property set the tone for the bucolic experience. “Inserting the house within the site was like figuring out a puzzle. I designed the house as a series of sliding planes and rectangular volumes that stop and start to accommodate the trees,” Radziner notes. “I also decided to explore the idea of doing a house with only dark materials. I’ve had enough of crisp white walls for the moment.”
The palette includes slender, handmade bricks, imported from Denmark, in a dark gray color; their slight imperfections give the material an organic edge that feels appropriate for the site. While the brick walls anchor the house to the earth on the ground level, the upper story—a taut, rectangular composition of zinc panels and glass walls—appears to float. Interior walls are clad variously in fumed rift-sawn oak and a slightly gritty plaster that takes on a velvety cast when it catches the light.“I love the experience of moving from relatively dark spaces to rooms flooded with light. The entry, for example, is a bit cloistered, but then you emerge into the bright openness of the living/dining/kitchen area. Suddenly it’s all trees and light,” Radziner says.
Massive glass sliders connect the voluminous ground floor to an outdoor deck and pool in a quintessentially L.A. inside-out gesture. Radziner maintained the gentle slope of the topography and elevated the pool three feet off the land, once again giving the impression of a structure floating above the earth. A freestanding brick wall with an outdoor fireplace defines the edge of the exterior room.
“It feels like we spend as much time outside as we do inside. It’s warmer here than it is in Venice, so that helps,” Cottle says, again referring to the beloved seaside community she and Radziner abandoned for the sake of time, traffic, and sanity. Asked whether they plan to return to Venice once Asher and Lexi are off to college, the couple demurs. “We’re definitely thinking about it,” Radziner offers. “But we love it here . . . for now.”