Rita Konig's deeply comfortable farmhouse in County Durham
Casting my mind back to my first visit to North Farm in 2016, it is odd to imagine these rooms as they were, particularly as I am sitting in one of them as I write. The house has been transformed – both the outside as you approach and the interior. When my husband Phil and I decided to take on this project, we knew the most important thing was to turn the previously enclosed staircase around so that it now opens into a central hall. This initial move set off a chain of events that led to a much more elaborate building project than we had originally intended, but the end result is a very happy one. The single most significant change is that, overall, the new layout is simpler and more open.
After a year here, the house has settled well and embraced all those who have come to stay. It feels like such an old soul, thanks in part to the things we brought with us – my collection of bed linen, the pictures and other ‘stuff ’, which I went on about in my column in this magazine. I often find it hard to persuade clients to spend on these things, as they always feel superfluous when you are at the planning and purchasing stage. But stuff is really the core of a place; it is what finishes a house in a way that furniture alone cannot possibly achieve.
MAY WE SUGGEST: Style file: Rita Konig
There were a few splurges. A big one was the drawing room rug, bought from Robert Kime just before Christmas. It felt a very grown-up acquisition and pulls the space together, making sense of all the colours. I was afraid the room was going to look like a circus tent, but in fact it seems to have fallen into place. Rugs have been one of the unplanned elements that have really completed all the areas they are in.
An interesting thing about living here has been the revelation of discovering that certain pieces, which I did not expect to use, have really come into their own. For example, my round Philippe Hurel dining table that I thought for sure was too contemporary and urban for this Durham farmhouse; it is now the centre table in the hall and looks fabulous. A large Jacques Tati film poster that no longer fits in my mother’s house is also now in the hall. Neither of these were things I would have gone out and bought for the space, yet both work brilliantly: this is where the magic lies in decorating.
All the rooms on the ground floor have come to life in ways I could not have predicted. The joy of a playroom for children to pile into and make a mess. The daybed in there makes a wonderfully deep sofa for movie nights – and quite often, in the evenings, our daughter Margot will go to sleep on it, so that she is close by and can hear the chatter of dinner.
The lovely thing about the kitchen that I was not anticipating is the view. As it’s a north-facing room, I didn’t hope for much, but the light over the uneven field that cloaks the ruins of a medieval village is just lovely. To the left, the drive curls past a pair of barns, offering an enticing glimpse of what is round the corner. And from the east-facing window one sees through fruit trees down to a pond with the field rising up behind it. Throughout the day and year, the outlook is always changing and always beautiful. It has amazed me that the view when you are standing on a building site can be so different from what you see when you sit in a finished room and look out.
As with anything in life, it is very often the leap of faith we make that rewards us the most. This project took us to an area we hardly knew, but what has made the house sing for us has been the welcome we have been given in this amazing county and the friends we have all made in such a short time. While writing this, I can see Margot through the kitchen window planting bulbs along the drive. By the time this piece comes out, the daffodils will (fingers crossed) have bloomed: I didn’t know it at the outset, but this scene illustrates what all the fabrics, colours, furniture and stuff have really been for.