Ten years ago, after leaving the company he had devoted more than twenty years to, the client was preparing to open a small barbecue restaurant. He poured everything he had built over the years into that place, determined that it would never fail. From then on, he and his wife lived in a small, single-room space above the restaurant, devoting all of themselves to the business with one goal in mind: to make the restaurant take root. Their efforts eventually bore fruit, and after enduring the bitter cold of a long winter, the couple finally began to dream of a warm home of their own.
I, too, had once played a small supporting role at the beginning of this warm story. That barbecue restaurant was the first project I was responsible for after I began working with space. Years passed, and I eventually started my own practice as well. When the couple began dreaming of their home, they learned that I had started my own business—or, in a way, had begun walking the path they themselves had once taken. After much thought, they embraced the precious bond we had formed in those youthful and inexperienced days, and reached out to me, asking me to bring this story to its close.
When I first encountered their new home after hearing their story, it held the warm comfort that only time can give, and carried a sense of ease, like the river slowly flowing outside the window. At approximately 106 square meters, or 32 pyeong, the apartment offered more than enough room for the couple. Yet, as was typical of a two-bay apartment built in the 1990s, the spaces were arranged with an overly dense configuration. To create a greater sense of openness, we first needed to remove what was unnecessary. All non-load-bearing walls were demolished, three areas were expanded, and the two separate bathrooms were combined into one, reducing the spatial density as much as possible. With a limited budget, we kept the construction as free of excess as possible and paid particular attention to deciding where to hold back and where to place emphasis.
Based on the client’s wish for the living room to feel like a book café, we created a toenmaru-style tea area in warm wood tones, planning it as a place for the couple’s hobbies and rest. Roman shades were installed on the exterior windows so that the outside scenery could be viewed selectively, while linen fabric brought a soft and comfortable atmosphere to the space. In the primary bedroom, the furniture was designed with low and stable proportions to preserve a sense of openness. The existing sill beneath the window was removed and a sliding door was installed, extending the room into the balcony and creating a more relaxed atmosphere. For the smaller room, the client wanted to give his wife a room that fully reflected her own taste, so it was designed with a slightly more modern and feminine character than the overall concept of the home.
Because the kitchen is directly connected to the living room and strongly influences the overall sense of space, its layout required even more consideration. To make a bold change, we removed the existing small sliding ventilation window and placed storage and functional elements as far inward as possible. The upper cabinets that interrupted the view were also removed, and an island dining table was introduced, allowing the kitchen and living room together to feel more open and spacious. The kitchen functions that were lost in the process were instead accommodated by expanding the former laundry room into a secondary kitchen.
The bathroom was perhaps the space that underwent the greatest transformation. The two bathrooms that had previously been separated between the primary bedroom and living room were combined into one, and a freestanding bathtub was added, transforming it into a place where the couple could enjoy a more leisurely kind of rest.
Several weeks after the project was completed, the client sent me a poem titled Inyeon (因緣). As we warmly talked about the bond we had shared over those brief but joyful months, we decided to call this home Seonyeonjae (善緣齋)—a house brought together through a good inyeon, and a house where even more good inyeon would continue to be made.
In inyeon (因緣), in (因) is the direct force that creates a result, while yeon (緣) is the external and indirect force that helps it come into being.
Chance exists, but chance alone cannot create a result. In the end, a result can only be made when direct effort follows. To this beautiful couple, who came to me as a precious coincidence while I had paused to catch my breath, I wanted to give all of my own direct effort and turn that coincidence into an inyeon made whole.