There was a time in Leslie Nepveux’s life where she was living in Phoenix with her Oklahoma State University sweetheart and designing Spanish and Mission Revival Catholic Churches. Nepveux, who also did some commercial and university housing work, occasionally dabbled in residential projects.
“And I realized how much I loved it,” Nepveux says. “Because a home is really similar to a church. It’s a very intimate place.”
In 2013, she came to Dallas for a yearlong fellowship with BuildingcommunityWORKSHOP, a nonprofit firm aiming to improve the livability of high-need neighborhoods through design.
The Nepveux family decided to stay and they bought a 100-year-old Junius Heights house.
There’s something about a century-old craftsman. There’s a small footprint, but move a wall or two, it can become functional.
“I like taking something that’s existing, and figuring out the new puzzle of how to make it work for today’s lifestyle,” Nepveux says. “I think a lot of people don’t give old houses a lot of credit.”
She started working on a friend’s home in the neighborhood. Then another. And very organically, she became the person to call if you needed to restore your Junius Heights home.
“We have a lot of history in architecture,” she says. “We want to remember where we were, and to see where we’re going.”
Nepveux had found her niche — old homes who need a lot of love. Six years ago, she started the firm VeuxDuex Designs, which specializes in restoration. Her husband Nick joined the firm two years ago, right about the time a couple who owns a 103-year-old Dumont Street home reached out.
Originally a 3-bedroom, 2-bath craftsman, built in 1921 as part of the Munger Place Revision, it had been stripped of its character through multiple renovations and owners. At one point, it was a duplex.
It needed to be gutted and taken down to the studs.
And like most houses in Dallas, there was a foundation problem. Unlike most houses, this house wasn’t tied to the foundation. Thick lumber framing and shiplap had kept the house from blowing away.
That’s when a moving company with a hydraulic lift gets called. Stainless steel beams brace the house as it is lifted off the foundation and piers are installed. Then the house is securely tied on to the foundation.
“That was the biggest setback,” Nepveux says.
The homeowners wanted to add an addition that would bump the 1,621 square feet home to 2,732 square feet, making it a 4-bedroom, 3-bath. Junius Heights Historic District preservation requirements meant keeping the roofline low from the curb and the addition had to be tucked into the back of the house.
“It’s very compact,” Nepveux says. “There’s some clients who could not handle living in such a compact space. But it works for this family.”
They made the kitchen galley-style and opened up a wall between the dining and kitchen for better flow.
But everything else was about going back.
“They definitely wanted craftsman character and detail in everything that we put back in the house,” she says.
The windows were removed and restored. Early in the construction they found brick under the house that was eventually added to the fireplace.
Subway tile in the bathroom. Hexagonal tile on the floors. An antique working furnace. Stained maple for the trim, hutch, mantle and stairway. Ferguson, a wholesale home company, helped source craftsman-like lighting and plumbing.
To minimize waste, the extra stone from the kitchen was utilized in the bathrooms. Cool-toned greens are found throughout the house, contrasting with the exterior deep blue siding and red trim door.
It’s not often a historic renovation makes it onto the AIA home tour. It’s usually sleek, spacious modern homes with clever construction tricks and plenty of natural light.
“It’s important that this historic home is on the tour to show a different type of home,” Nepveux says. “You don’t have to have an architect to build a house. We can often help find solutions to problems that others might not be able to solve. We see things that other people don’t.
