This home sits in an interesting pocket of Ōtautahi Christchurch, perched on the fringe of its upmarket suburb. The area is a bit scrappier than the posh parts of Merivale, the street a collage of 2000s townhouses, tight multi-unit builds, and the occasional character cottage. Most give everything away. So when construction began on this four-bedroom home by Warren and Mahoney principal Tobin Smith, its guarded façade drew some attention.

There was initial relief among the neighbours when they discovered the home’s earthquake-damaged predecessor wasn’t being replaced by another multi-residential block. Then came the questions. Hugging tight to the southern and eastern boundaries, punctured by a solitary street-facing window, the oatmeal brick form introduced a new level of architectural rigour to the street. It had presence, but was mighty secretive. Even with the front door or garage wide open, the house gives nothing away. “I’ve never liked the idea of exposing your whole living environment to the street,” says Smith. “We often play that game on a hill – holding back the view until you’re invited in. So there’s no reason an urban setting can’t have the same sense of drama.”

The entry is compact, but deliberate. Passing over basalt cobblestones and through the dark, cedar-lined entrance, you turn a corner to volume and light – the drama. Pushing the house hard against those boundaries created a north-western backyard that became the project’s centre of gravity. The dining and living areas, kitchen and bedrooms all overlook the private outdoor space. “It’s a bit of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. It doesn’t feel big from the street, but you come in, and it reveals itself,” says the architect.

What you see today is the second evolution of the project. The clients, a young professional couple, wanted to design a home for a future family. They had no children yet, just plans, and a beloved dog named Frankie (note the F-shaped front-door handle). By the time the build was complete, the house had caught up with them: one child in tow and another on the way. “The first plan was simpler and responded to the clients’ budget at the time. But to their credit – and this never happens – they decided to put a bit more into it and take the home to the next level,” says Smith. While the core of the design held, other elements were elevated, its square corners softened, and there was a material shift to this warm brick.

The architect and clients worked with Canterbury Clay Bricks, exploring different brown and neutral options before mixing South Island clays and landing on this custom tone. “We ordered two different sizes – a long brick and a shorter one – and had them arranged in a really random lay, showing all faces of the brick and using the offcuts too,” Smith explains. The result is a genuine, organic variation of texture and tone that gives the slick form a bit of grit. It also meant that there was almost no material waste in the process.

To plant the home into the site, the cladding dips below ground level in an exaggerated rebate, so there’s no visible foundation line. The brick walls travel inside too, meeting polished concrete floors, soft textiles and dark oak joinery. It all plays neatly into the clients’ brief for “soft but masculine” interiors. “The other thing we were conscious of was making sure that the house was set up, yes, for children, but also for entertaining,” says Smith.