The Option That Wasn’t Meant to Be Built
The Library is a narrow studio addition to the side of the existing house. With a separate entry, it is a distinct work from home space and a retreat from the house.
Not every design option is meant to be chosen.
Sometimes, the most valuable option in a project is the one that won’t be built - the one that tests the edges of the brief, challenges assumptions, and reveals what the project is really about.
This project had one of those moments.
The brief (on paper)
On paper, the brief was familiar and sensible:
two adults working from home
growing children
a house that needed to work better now and into the next decade
better connection to the backyard
flexibility for guests
careful attention to budget
All reasonable. All solvable.
And, in fact, several of the options I presented did solve the brief — some efficiently, some more expansively, each with different trade-offs.
But one option sat slightly outside the brief.
We called it the library.
The library
The rich terracottas of the exterior are carried inside where the whole space feel enveloped in warm earth tones. A square picture window frames a view of a Japanese Maple which shades The Library in Summer, while allowing light in in Winter.
The library wasn’t a comprehensive solution.
It didn’t add bedrooms.
It didn’t solve guest accommodation.
It didn’t neatly tick every box.
Instead, it proposed something more focused: a narrow, characterful workspace tucked to the side of the house, with its own entry, filtered light, and a sense of separation from daily family life.
Internally, it was imagined as a quiet, almost monastic space: bookshelves lining the walls, a desk facing a small courtyard, a place to think, read, and work without interruption.
Externally, it was playful and architectural: terracotta roof tiles wrapping down the walls, turning the language of the existing house into something more expressive.
It was deliberately specific.
Why include an option that doesn’t solve everything?
Because good design isn’t just about solving problems: it’s about understanding what matters.
The moment the library appeared in the conversation, something shifted.
The clients didn’t ask first about cost or compliance.
They talked about how it would feel to work there.
They imagined walking to it in the morning.
They laughed, got excited, and lingered on it. Even while acknowledging that it wasn’t “the answer”.
That reaction was the point.
The library revealed something that the brief hadn’t fully articulated: a deep desire for psychological separation, quiet, and identity. Not just more space.
It reframed the conversation from “How many rooms do we need?” to “How do we want our days to feel?”
Designing beyond the obvious
In the end, the library may not be built exactly as drawn.
But its influence will almost certainly live on: in how workspaces are separated, how quiet is prioritised, how character is allowed to emerge, and how the house supports different modes of living.
This is why we often include a wildcard option in early design conversations.
Not to confuse things.
Not to show off.
But to open the brief up and allow clients to see possibilities they didn’t yet have language for.
Sometimes, the option you don’t choose is the one that helps you choose everything else more clearly.