A dark water surface, a whitewashed wall and a roof of thatch set the tone before the full house comes into view. The renewed renovated hunting lodge still feels compact from a distance, but the massing keeps shifting as you move around it. One volume catches light in its render, another turns sharp with black-stained timber, while the tower holds on to its thatch roof. That contrast is not used as a statement piece; it is part of how the old lodge and the new work together.

The original building dates from 1930 and stood on the edge of a villa park, in the open countryside. When the clients saw it for sale, they understood at once that the structure offered room for a full transformation. They bought the lodge and asked for a design that could update it without flattening its character. The result keeps the outline of a lodge, but the plan, the additions and the material choices now support a family home rather than a large, formal house.

Small additions instead of one large extension

Planning rules were studied carefully to see where additions could be made. That process led to a clear choice: several smaller extensions instead of one large block. The effect is practical, but it also keeps the house readable as a small-scale building. Each added volume steps out from a different side, so the eye never lands on a single oversized gesture. You see a corner, then a roof edge, then a new opening. The house reveals itself in parts.

This strategy adds volume without breaking the original proportions. From the garden side, the new work sits close to the existing house lines. From another angle, the additions pull the plan open and create a more varied footprint. The phrase small additions instead of one large extension describes the construction logic, but it also explains the experience of moving around the building. Nothing is flattened into one frontage; the lodge keeps its layered outline.

Old roof forms carried into the new parts

The historic roof profile was not erased. The stolpkap and the knik kap remained, and the tower was kept as a recognisable part of the composition. The tower also retained its thatch roof, which gives that piece a different reading from the flatter roof planes around it. New flat tiles were added elsewhere, along with zinc dormers and heavy black-stained beams. Those newer elements sharpen the silhouette and make the old forms stand out instead of fading into the background.

Masonry detail was treated with the same care. The original lodge had been built in chain bond, and that pattern returns in the new sections. It is a small move, but it matters because it lets the old and new meet through the wall surface itself. The whole house was then white rendered, so the transitions become easier to read. That white layer also gives the renovated hunting lodge a cleaner outline, especially where the older brickwork meets the added volumes.

A white shell that links the different parts

White render works here as a connector rather than a cover-up. It settles the older masonry and the new additions into one visual field, while the darker timber and roof finishes pull specific details forward. The lodge no longer feels split between periods. Instead, the render makes the change in scale visible and calm. A glazed opening, a roof edge or a tower corner reads more clearly against that pale surface, and the house gains a steadier presence from it.

The updated roof package strengthens that reading. Flat tiles replace the older patchwork look, and the zinc dormers sit neatly against the roof planes. Only the tower keeps its thatch roof, which preserves one strong historical note. Seen together, the thatch roof and contemporary facade speak in two registers at once: the tower points back to the lodge’s origin, while the rendered walls and sharper roof lines bring the rest of the house into the present.

From large formal rooms to smaller places to stay

The floor plan changed just as much as the outside. The former rooms were large and heavy in scale, but that was not what the family wanted. They asked for smaller rooms and places to use throughout the day. So the house was reorganised into a sequence of lived-in corners rather than broad, formal spaces. A kitchen for morning coffee, a front room for reading, and a living room for the fire each occupy their own part of the plan.

That shift changes the way the house moves. Instead of one long sweep of space, the lodge now offers pauses and transitions. A doorway narrows the view. A smaller opening leads to another room. The renovated hunting lodge feels easier to use because each zone has a clear task, and the rooms no longer compete with one another for scale. Even the children’s rooms follow that approach, with a bedroom, bathroom and walk-in closet set up as individual places of retreat.

Rooms that open one by one

The pleasure of the plan lies in how little is shown at once. You notice that when a corner opens onto something new, whether it is a window, a fireplace or a change in floor area. This is a house that keeps unfolding. From one side you catch the tower; from another you see the black timber against the render; inside, the sequence of rooms slows the pace and makes the home feel measured without becoming rigid. The layout answers the family’s daily rhythm directly.

The project was presented to the review board after the design had been worked through in detail, and both the municipality and the review board responded positively. By then the balance of old and new had already been resolved in a clear way: small additions, a white shell, preserved roof forms and a plan that fits a family life. The finished house has now been delivered, and the exterior still carries the strongest part of the story in the contrast between the thatch roof accent and the contemporary additions around it.

The garden as a second composition

The outdoor area extends the project with a terrace, paving and a reflective water feature. The water surface sits close to the house and catches the roof lines, so the building appears twice for a moment: once in brick, render and timber, and again in the reflection. Long paving lines guide the eye through the garden, while the grass and trimmed edges hold the scheme in place. The terrace does not sit apart from the house; it works as a clear edge where inside and outside meet.

From the garden, the renovated hunting lodge reads as a sequence of roof shapes, openings and added parts rather than as one fixed facade. The water feature quiets the foreground and gives the exterior a different pace. It is a useful counterpoint to the sharper lines of the paving and the darker roof details. Together they make the site feel ordered without being static, and they show how the house was rebuilt to be lived with from every side.

Project photography by Dick Ruumpol.