Material World: six homes with both substance and style

Tucked away in pastoral rolling hills is this house of two halves, built around and bisected by an impressive flint wall, designed with the local vernacular in mind. Flint has been a mainstay of building in this country since Roman times, with the material defining the façades of many buildings in the south of England, especially in and around Kent. Taking this as its cue, RIBA Award-winning Hollaway Studios has designed this house to integrate the texture of the stone into its scheme, fusing together age-old practices with a decidedly contemporary design. Rising out of the surrounding greenery, the house’s long profile takes a shape that reminds us of a piece of flint itself. Smart.

Terrazzo is a type of mosaic where fragments of materials – glass, shell, marble or other types of stone – are held together by a hardened poured binder. Although perhaps the most universally regarded examples are found in Italy, a particularly fine version can nevertheless be seen in this immaculate apartment in Westminster. Confetti-like, the terrazzo here runs underfoot and up to dado-rail height on the walls of the dining room and features in both the bedroom and the bathroom too. Its use as a material motif speaks to its versatility – and to its curious ability to at once act as an eye-catching focal point and as a pleasing counterpoint to place artwork above, as current owners have masterfully shown.

There is an inescapably sylvan feel to this striking mid-century house in Wimbledon, thanks in no small part to the sheer amount of glass overlooking greenery. You’d be forgiven for forgetting that central London is only a few miles away here, in a house that, with its tall, largely brown exterior, seems to mimic the towering trees that encircle it. Built by Ian Horton from architectural firm Horton, Earle & Associates in 1968, the house won an award from RIBA for its design, which makes impressive use of a slender plot with varying levels and slim staircases. Across all floors, a connection with nature is fostered and nurtured, with iroko-framed windows dissolving any clear delineation between inside and out, as well as a treehouse for adults and children alike to play in.

There are tried and tested combinations of materials that remain failsafe over time, such as like the warmth of brick against wood, a palette held in particularly high regard during the mid-20th century. But there are times when such materials are used together in such a singular way that something exceptional happens, as is the case at this house in Stone, Staffordshire. It was built by Giles Gilbert Scott, grandson of the renowned George Gilbert Scott, whose major commissions include Cambridge University Library, Waterloo Bridge and Bankside Power Station (now Tate Modern). Marginally more modest, this Trent-side mid-century gem is no less exacting, its coffered wooden ceilings paired with intricate exposed brickwork. The result is a house with a touch of West Coast modernist warmth that could take the edge off even the chilliest of West Midlands days.

Warmth is all very well, but there’s something brilliant in the coolness of metal too. As shown here, in Martha’s Buildings, a warehouse conversion close to Old Street station, there’s a distinctive majesty in the shimmery interaction of light on steel. Here, where it’s been used primarily in the kitchen, the metal is brought to life by the brightness that seeps through rear glazing and glass panels, producing an astonishingly delicate result. Not only does the shiny surface reference the building’s industrial heritage – something subtly tapped into by architect Julie Richards – its tunes the space finely to the demands of modern living. Steely though it quite literally is, severe it is not; instead, it strikes a clever balance between the practical and the arresting.

We couldn’t do a round-up featuring our favourite materials and not mention concrete, could we? And where better to see the stuff in situ than in the Barbican? At this apartment, however, located on the 24th floor of the estate’s Lauderdale Tower, it’s particularly special, having been reintroduced to the interior after a renovation project – note the wall that’s been exposed in the breakfast room, notable for its typically Barbican curve. Paired with ply, the brutal feel of the concrete is made to feel lighter. But, working in cahoots with the generous amounts of glass here, the concrete comes into its own during the golden hours for which the Barbican is famed, when its grey undertones are transformed by the honeyed glow of the setting sun – a time when Chamberlin, Powell and Bon’s utopic dreams for the estate are perhaps most palpable.