In Queens, New York, Leong Leong reimagines an old structure with standing-seam cladding and galvanized steel details, recasting the street frontage with a restrained industrial and resourceful edge. Courtesy NAHO KUBOTA

A New York City Home Transforms into a Two-Part Sanctuary

With a light touch and a tight budget, Leong Leong drew from what was already there—materials, layout, and memory—to shape a quietly expressive residence. 

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utch Kills, a section of Long Island City in western Queens, is as materially and functionally eclectic as any New York City neighborhood. Streets are lined with a mix of low-slung brick warehouses still buzzing with industrial activity, multifamily row homes, parking lots, and the occasional hotel or condo—a sign of ongoing development. On one characteristically motley street, a home has transformed into something worthy of the area: both subtle and stark, deferring to the existing materiality while capitalizing on the surrounding aesthetic permissiveness.   

A house with galvanized steel and white brick shares a joint courtyard with another structure, with outdoor seating and potted plants
A rare shared courtyard forms the heart of the lot, separating yet connecting the front house for gathering and the rear house for private living. Courtesy NAHO KUBOTA
A building with a galvanized steel facade, brick landscaping and some potted plants
Courtesy NAHO KUBOTA

Doubling Down on Adaptive Reuse

“We wanted to preserve the Queens qualities of the house,” says Chris Leong, a founding partner of the firm Leong Leong, which was tapped for the renovation by an urbane curator-writer couple, Carin and John, who purchased the two-structure property. An emphasis on maintenance, the clients’ own unassuming and thrifty demeanor, and a shoestring budget guided the project, leading to the decision to retain key aspects—including the footprint and structural foundation, much of the internal layout, and even swaths of original surfaces—a rare instance of restraint in a gut renovation. 

Though the unprepossessing, quintessentially Queens brick frontispiece was left largely unchanged, the exteriors of both structures behind it are now awash in a refined, unifying gray-silver paint on the first floors and standing-seam cladding on the second. “We wanted to preserve texture but make the front and back structures feel cohesive,” says Leong. 

House interior with a wood cabinetry wall and curved stone wall forming a hallway
The interiors combine familiar residential finishes in a restrained, thoughtful way, elevating the design language and reaffirming the studio’s rigor and sensibility through a clear and confident point of view. Courtesy NAHO KUBOTA
Interior kitchen with marbled countertop and light green cabinetry
Courtesy NAHO KUBOTA

Staying Connected

Between the two houses is a red-brick-covered patio, which the team expanded by removing an external staircase that had previously connected the upstairs floor, once a separately accessible unit. John compares the outdoor space to a forum, capable of hosting community gatherings. “We’ve had events here, and it works great.” Hemmed in on all sides, the patio is accessorized by plantings—most prominently a large shadbush—enabling unobstructed sightlines between and even through the two houses.  

The back house, where domestic functions are concentrated, is where the firm’s lush material palette and the couple’s aesthetic sensibilities merge: Wood storage lining the wall, door hardware from John’s parents’ apartment, and a custom 1994 Felix Gonzalez-Torres wallpaper similar to one at the couple’s former loft, all demonstrate an attention to efficiency and density without sacrificing a domestic and personal feel.  

Interior home with curved wood wall and long wall-to-ceiling bookshelf
On the second floor, a library and living room overlook the courtyard, creating a salon-like setting for conversation, reading, and informal hosting. Courtesy NAHO KUBOTA

At the rear of the back house, the kitchen’s sage-green cabinetry and marble surfaces echo the narrow alleyway just outside, created by the gap between the house and its rear neighbor, which sits a story higher. It’s an earthy, residual space, furnished sparingly with a single, excess offcut of kitchen marble mounted as a snug bench. “The grotto,” as Carin fittingly calls it, “is incredibly mysterious and exciting.” 

Upstairs, flashier features include a curved wall of Tambour paneling that separates the living room from the bedroom and closet and, according to Carin, “adds to the sense of fluidity and modular space.” The space is awash in light: A new circular skylight spotlights a reading nook below, and an original square skylight was retained—a midconstruction improvisation.  

Architectural drawing of two residences that shared an internal courtyard
Though programmatically distinct, the two houses function as a single composition. Inside, targeted interventions reveal tin ceilings and layered textures, paired with site-specific artworks, including a custom made piece by Kameelah Janan Rasheed. render courtesy Leong Leong

Functionally Flexible

The front house received a lighter touch, serving as a crucible of the project’s careful management of budget, flexibility, and conservation. “A lot of what we did was uncovering and revealing,” Leong says—wood floors and the ground-level tin ceilings were mostly preserved. The house contains a large studio on the second floor for visiting artists and other guests. A large dining table, a large-format mural from the artist Kameelah Janan Rasheed, and two kitchens add to a peripatetic, hostel-like atmosphere. “They wanted the front house to be adaptable, enabling it to be used by multiple users and guests,” Leong remarks. 

It also holds the couple’s offices. Carin’s, on the second floor, is frenetic and bright, with original wood floors and what they describe as an outdoor loggia atop the frontispiece. Below, in John’s street-facing office, the marble wrapping the back house’s kitchen and forming the grotto bench makes yet another appearance, this time as his desk. “There was a lot of design that was happening in real time,” Leong says, referencing the unplanned retention of skylights and wood and the found uses for excess stone. “This house was the little house that could.”

Black wall with white diagrams, writing and other symbols behind a wood table.
Courtesy NAHO KUBOTA

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