Donald Lococo, the Washington, DC-based architect who counts former President Bill Clinton and Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton among his clients, used the renovation of his home to understand firsthand how a house is put together. Lococo and his wife, Filomena, bought their one-story house in the Mohican Hills neighborhood of Glen Echo Heights, MD, in its original state, a 24’ by 24’ square. When these little houses initially went on the market in the 1940s, they cost around $2,100 each.
“I call our house the last of the Mohicans. Usually, what happens to them is the For Sale sign goes up, the Sold sign goes up, a Dumpster is put on the front lawn, and the house is put in the Dumpster. People are filling up landfills; the demolition of buildings in the United States produces about 124 million tons of debris each year … so many houses are being thrown away,” Lococo laments. But not his. Lococo went to great lengths to save his house. To begin, he had it lifted in its entirety 13’ above the ground. “Although our family moved out, my office remained and was up 13’ for 10 months,” says Lococo, who climbed a wooden ladder to reach his office everyday while he established his award-winning firm, Donald Lococo Architects LLC.
Lococo more than tripled the size of his home while making it appear to have been that size from the start. “I wanted to make the house feel like one thought rather than a tacked on addition,” he says. What had originally been the first floor of his house became the second floor and Lococo added a new first floor and basement.
A Humbling Experience
“I framed that dormer in the former attic myself. I put the shingles on at 9:30 at night. I dug the basement by hand. I wanted to do everything at least once, this forces an architect to appreciate how hard it is for a contractor to turn his paper house plans into a building,” says Lococo, who also poured footings, set windows, put up drywall and masonry walls. “You don’t know how much work or skill it takes to build a masonry wall or set and shim a window until you’ve done it,” he says, adding that the overall experience was “humbling.”
To say the job was challenging doesn’t do it justice. At one point, when the basement was almost completely dug out, a flood swept through the neighborhood filling the entire basement with eight feet of water. “Everything of any value was in that basement,” says Lococo, 44. Furniture, paints, building materials, and his tools were ruined by water, mud, and oil. But rain, sleet, and snow didn’t stop him. Lococo persevered, and he and Filomena, 42, worked with the county to have the neighborhood storm water system upgraded and revamped and the basement has been dry since. Ultimately, Lococo created a colonial revival style house that looks like it could have been built in the 1920s or ’30s.
Reborn
Lococo has a knack for finding new uses for old furnishings. For instance, he bought an old church pew in Buffalo, NY, cut it in half, and rebuilt the severed ends so he could use them as benches flanking his front door. He also found two vintage wooden columns, a charming “round accent window,” and a weathered old farm door at The Brass Knob. “This is a door that slams; we like that,” he says. Inside, he designed a staircase to the second floor. He particularly likes the wooden newel he added at the foot of the stairs. “The newel reminds me of It’s a Wonderful Life when Jimmy Stewart would come down the stairs everyday and pick up that newel,” says Lococo, who tries to foster the everyday rituals that happen in a home.
“I like finding those objects that people discount as outdated or too rusty like that front door. There’s a fine line between outdated and reborn. Finding those objects and presenting them in a different light is the thing I love the most. It’s all about the context and finding the right way to say it.” Lococo creates dialogue among different spaces, furnishings, and architecture. “I like creating a conversation between things that don’t usually talk to each other like beadboard with modern retro chairs or an antique grandfather clock with a Formica mid-century breakfast table. For some reason, the more you create harmony between unlikely objects, the more you’re welcomed into the house. It’s less committed to one thing and more accepting of all things.” Furnishings in his house range over about 150 years. “Even though the pieces and furniture span six generations, they all communicate to each other,” says Lococo, who has a Master of Architecture degree from the University of Michigan.
‘Parentheses of Space’
Lococo strives to create spaces that encourage conversation and can feel intimate and open at the same time. His large kitchen illustrates this concept beautifully. He divided it into three separate areas, each with a distinct function, with the suggestion of two walls as room dividers. The first area holds cabinetry and appliances, the second a breakfast nook, and the third a family seating area and television. To divide the spaces, one “wall” has glass overhead cabinets, and the other has open shelves that hold a collection of art deco antique toasters in the pass-through. This creates an airy mood that allows the spaces to be individual rooms while at the same time part of the large kitchen.
“When things get too open it feels like one room and adjacent activities act as noises; it affects people in other parts of the large space. By separating informal areas just the right amount, family members can feel they have their own space but at the same time feel they are with the rest of the family in adjacent rooms.” Lococo uses this concept in his house planning. “It fosters togetherness of the family, but also allows each member mental elbow room.”
Architecture That Calms
Lococo likes to anchor homes, his included, with certain elements – a ticking grandfather or grandmother clock, a wonderful cookie jar, and a percolating coffee pot on the stove – things that will resonate with people. Homes are not just visual and spatial.
“I love the sound a coffee percolator makes,” he says. “Whenever we have guests over, we always end a meal with it.”
Overall, Lococo finds his home a place of respite. “In Washington, more and more people are looking for a place where they can be quieted. Whispering is the next direction in architecture. I’m designing homes that let the mind wander. Sometimes I create architecture that engages the mind and piques interest, but sometimes, like in my own home, the soul just needs a place where it can be calmed and meander.”
