Kelvin Browne On Setting Up House With His Partner, Michael Allen, In Chester, N.S.
We bought our Chester house before setting foot in it. It wasn’t quite an online impulse buy because a friend, who was nearby, did a reconnaissance. “I could live there,” she said.
I had been based in Toronto for 50 years — I stayed after attending the University of Toronto — and my husband, Michael Allen, had lived there for 40 years. I’m now retired but, in the city, I worked as a writer and arts administrator, including stints as vice-president at the ROM and director of the Gardiner Museum. Michael was, and still is, a lawyer.
We’d been looking for a new Canadian retirement haven after selling our property in Cape Cod, Mass., the year before. Our first attempt was a brief but unconsummated dalliance with Prince Edward County, Ont. After this, Chester became the aspiration, as we realized we missed the ocean and we’d also recently acquired a sailboat — Chester’s Mahone Bay is one of the best places to sail in Canada.
While we’d been visiting Chester for 30 years, and almost bought a place there 15 years ago, this house wasn’t on our radar. Nonetheless, it was in the village where we wanted to be, rather than on a picturesque but remote oceanfront property where you couldn’t walk to the grocery store. Also, it was still a time of Covid anxiety. There were few houses for sale in Chester, and the perceived Covid avoidance of small-town living created high demand — hence the precipitous purchase. So, in October 2021, I flew in from Toronto three days after our offer was accepted. It was a relief that the online photos weren’t misleading, and the home had a good vibe.
When we replaced the Mexican tile in the living–dining area with porcelain tile that resembled slate, the existing pine floor in the front hall felt disconnected. Painted floors in the Maritimes are not uncommon, so we painted a black and white checkerboard design over the original pine to better co-ordinate with the new tile. The bold pattern is a nice jolt when you enter the house. Our contractor was initially horrified, of course, but he’s come to like it. We left the stairway as is, except to paint the treads black to tie in with the floors.
The house was built in 1901 by a local judge as a year-round residence. Many local houses of that period were not winterized and used only as summer cottages. We’re told it was a rooming house in the 1930s; at more than 3,500 square feet, and with potentially five bedrooms, it was a good candidate to be one, especially during the Great Depression. We’ve experienced ghosts and suspect they’re from this tumultuous moment in the house’s history. Soon after we arrived in Chester, a new acquaintance said, “I hope you’re going to change your awful house colour.” But we liked it, so it stayed. The door was a dark purple; when we repaired it, we painted it a more vivid purple inspired by the “painted lady” houses in Lunenburg, N.S.
We commissioned local artist Scott Hamlin of Scotian Ironworks to create a fireplace screen and suggested that the work of Diego Giacometti be his inspiration.
About 70 years after this, an American couple, seasonal residents, rebuilt the rear portion of the house when they bought it, including a basement. They sold it to us after summering there for 25 years. We were fortunate our intrepid contractor, referred to us by the previous owners, was miraculously available when Nova Scotia was suddenly booming after years of decline. Dwight Neaves had decades of experience with Chester houses, plus access to gifted trades with the same love, or perhaps tolerance, for working on older homes. Connections are paramount in terms of getting anything done well in the Maritimes, and Dwight had them. In the dining area, we replaced the small, fussy-looking bookcases with more elegant contemporary versions. Throughout, we installed track lighting and added more recessed lights in order to illuminate our art properly.
A lot of smaller changes add up to a big job: we moved the powder room off the living room to a new front hall that was created, built a fireplace, replaced much of the flooring, added and upgraded windows, built a wall to separate the kitchen from the living room, replaced the kitchen cabinets, added cornice mouldings and renovated the ensuite. I often forget the less visible aspects of the renovation, such as replacing electric baseboard heating with propane hot water rads and recontouring the property outside for better drainage and a dry basement.
I assured Michael that our renovation would be completed in short order and on budget. “Not like the others,” I claimed. We weren’t adding an addition or gutting a place; I was confident. A year later, we were still finishing details and had jettisoned our unrealistic budget months before. The kitchen didn’t start out as a gut job but, in the end, it became one, save for some of the cabinet frames and the cooktop.
The other decorating was comparatively easier, as we had been collecting furniture and art for decades and had a trove from which to choose. While many things fit, much was sold or went into storage. We also bought some new furniture; these strategic purchases help our eclectic mix look like it belongs together here. The result is a wonderful sense of being surrounded by our past, but having it appear as fresh as a new beginning.
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