A Cotswold barn with warm and welcoming interiors
Only divorce or death are thought to be more stressful than moving house. Most of us emerge exhausted, swearing that we shall never go through that again – until the next time, of course. Mark and Georgie Rowse, however, are an exception. In the course of their married life, they have made their mark on a dozen or so properties, each time creating a unique home or holiday house and honing their individual talents into a partnership of smooth efficiency and mutual respect.
They are excellently paired: Mark oversees the building work and plans the layout of the rooms; and Georgie – with unending enthusiasm and a growing directory of craftspeople to call on – creates warm, welcoming and extremely comfortable interiors for her family and a host of friends. Mark’s ability to immediately see the spatial potential of a building has been essential in their projects, as they are so often conversions. It is a skill inherited from his grandfather, the architect Herbert Rowse, who, in the early 20th century, worked on the Mersey Tunnel, Liverpool Philharmonic Hall, the Martins Bank Building and many other landmarks that make up the skyline of Liverpool.
With their four children now grown up, Mark and Georgie decided to downsize from their sprawling six-bedroom farmhouse beside the River Windrush in Oxfordshire (featured in House & Garden in March 2010 and, with its new owners, in the December 2015 issue). They found a disused 19th-century barn nearby, complete with its own farmyard and a single-storey cart shed. Standing 140 metres above sea level and surrounded by meadows on all sides, it had been built on a spot known as Holy Well, named after a spring that in previous centuries had given refreshment to passing travellers.
From the start, they were adamant that the barn should look as untouched as possible, starting with the laying down of a drive, since none had previously existed. ‘The builders wanted to do a straight line,’ explains Georgie. ‘But we took ages to get the sweep just right, using a small rise so that you don’t see the barn until you are halfway here. The pond was dug out to catch water off the hill, which also feeds the Holy Well and still provides our water today.’ Outside the walled farmyard, originally a concrete slope, they decided not to domesticate the walls of the barn with espaliered trees and the like but to allow the field – in which stands an original shepherd’s hut, a present for Mark on his 50th birthday – to come up to the barn as it would have done when originally in use.
As in previous projects, when they would travel across Europe in pursuit of original roof tiles, a particular bath or appropriate flooring, the couple has been fanatical about materials. This included reusing every bit of the original barn – roof trusses that had to be replaced were repurposed as supports for an outbuilding and the river-stone flags from the floor of the threshing barn were incorporated into the courtyard garden. Created by James Alexander-Sinclair, this was designed as a hortus conclusus (the medieval term for an enclosed garden), with medicinal herbs and sweet-scented flowers planted beside a four-sided rill representing the rivers in the Garden of Eden. It has numerous seating areas, so there is always somewhere to sit that catches the sun, and is sheltered from the wind that prevails in this hilltop location.
Inside the barn, the downstairs area is divided into two main spaces, but without any interconnecting doors so the communal feel is emphasised. The larger sitting room is in itself divided into three parts, allowing for a variety of different activities. At the far end, they can entertain friends, with sofas congregating round the large antique French chimneypiece; a table in the middle provides space for an ongoing jigsaw, puzzle or cards; and the library end, with bookshelves specially designed on hinges to conceal a television, has a double-sided open fireplace that links the sitting room to the kitchen and dining area with more armchairs. Throughout, the beams have been limed, walls are monastically white with curved corners and the floors are in dark limestone. Every aperture is identical to those of the original barn. The use of Clement’s metal-framed windows and doors with minimal glazing profiles in the sitting room and bedroom above means it looks from the road much as it did in its original incarnation as a threshing barn.
A huge kitchen table dominates the second room, with a slim, galley-style kitchen tucked away behind a wall with openings at both ends for ease of access. One is struck by how small it is. In their previous home, Georgie had enjoyed an enormous kitchen and dining area – but this, they agree, is the most ergonomically designed space they have had. Built by Bulthaup, it is just big enough for two, with a small, lifesaving larder and a huge American-style fridge.
Down a few stairs, a long passage – originally an open cattle shed with feeding troughs – is the hall for the front door, with a further bedroom and en-suite bathroom beyond. Upstairs are two bedrooms – the main one has far-reaching views on either side, an en-suite bathroom with Marmorino plaster walls and a bath that just fits the space, overlooked by an arrow-slit window.
A fourth bedroom is supplied by what Mark and Georgie call the ‘Hermitage’. This romantic wooden cabin built in the corner of the garden was inspired by a walking holiday in Romania. It was Mark, of course, who found a whole lot of old railway sleepers and designed the cabin, which Rollo Dunford Wood of Dunford Woodwork then lovingly crafted, adding many of the details. Obsessed with Leo Tolstoy, Georgie looked up pictures of the bed the Russian author slept in at his country estate and had it copied by the local blacksmith Jos Whinney. ‘If people who come to stay do not “get” the cabin, they are demoted in the list of friends,’ she asserts.
So, having downsized from an enviably large family house, they have created a smaller but more embracing home, one which, as they crowd around the kitchen table, they all love.