Across the hall, at the southwest corner of the house, the dining room projects into the garden like a pavilion, surrounded on three sides by the rear terrace and nature. A pair of pocket doors, with art-glass panels in a segmented cloud design, can be closed to give privacy to the room. The room is paneled in Honduran mahogany, creating a darker and more formal environment than the teakwood living room and hallway. A massive, built-in sideboard on the south wall is the focal point of the room. Cabinets and drawers, with panels chosen for their beautiful grain patterns, are symmetrically arranged under a T-shaped group of golden-yellow opalescent-glass windows in a design of a blossoming vine with blood-red flowers. A hanging leaded-glass chandelier, framed in mahogany, casts a soft, golden light on the table, itself a masterpiece of engineering and further evidence of the Hall brothers' significant contribution to the design evolution of the Greenes' work. Compared with the Blacker dining furniture, and even the earlier Bolton pieces, the Gambles' dining-room suite is sober, though this had not been Charles Greene's intent. His sketches show that he had envisioned the chairs and table with elaborate inlays of metal wire and contrasting woods. The Gambles may have felt that it was too much of a display (or that they would be without dining-room furniture for too long, waiting for it to be completed); ultimately they confined the decorative inlays to the guest-bedroom and master-bedroom furniture. There the Greenes excelled, and the guest-bedroom pieces rank among the most exquisite they created. Indeed, the guest-room writing desk was a favored form for Charles; he re-created it later in rosewood, with a different, more elaborate inlay detail. The guest-room wall sconces are remarkable, not only for their intrinsic beauty -- delicate art-glass roses leaded into flared mahogany frames -- but for the contrast with the frosted-glass shades originally used in every other bedroom in the house. The upper, family bedroom level of the Gamble house takes on a more relaxed ambience than the public spaces downstairs. Color and surface contrast play a larger role than wood, and each room has plaster walls painted a different muted earthtone. Port Orford cedar, a soft wood with an even, satin-like reflective quality, is the dominant trim and door material, though its subdued grain gives it a monotone appearance compared with the exotic hardwoods of the public spaces. Stickley's Craftsman furniture was specified for the boys' bedroom and the family guest room, but the master bedroom and Aunt Julia's room merited the Greenes' furnishings. The master bedroom pieces, especially, create a compositionally balanced and coordinated environment similar to that of the living room. Three rugs, each with a simple geometric design, set off the functional areas of the room. These include the entry; the fireplace area, with an inglenook space and a day-bed bench (an overhead light is bright enough for Mr. Gamble to read by); and the main body of the room, with two beds, chiffonier, dressing table, and desk. Throughout the house, but especially in the master bedroom, it is the sparseness of decorative detail that imbues the space with particular beauty. Restrained and subtle decorative inlays grace the furniture: tiny bits of semiprecious stone, vermilion, and fruitwood, depicting plant fragments on fields of black walnut. The single-room space for the third level was originally labeled "attic." On the final presentation drawings, the space was incorrectly renamed "billiard room." The Gambles, who were a sober Presbyterian family that did not believe in such idle amusements, used it for storage. Despite this, the attic is a superb example of structure put to use, both functionally and aesthetically. The Greenes exhibited a convincing ability to do this, but it is in the simplicity of an undecorated space that structure can best preside as beauty. Two king-post trusses support the roof, each Oregon-pine timber selected for its clear, straight grain, lack of defects, and appropriate seasoning. All edges were milled to a radius that produced a softened appearance -- perhaps to suggest ages of gentle wear -- and hand-sanding and oiling enhanced the details and natural characteristics of each piece of wood. Each post and beam, each rafter and corbel, is treated with precisely equal respect, making for a unity of effect that belies the labor-intensive construction. The iron straps and wedges that bind the truss systems are functional, the pragmatic counterparts of the analogous decorative straps in the living room. In the final analysis, function and analogy are both means to an end: beauty. Simultaneous with the Gamble house, the firm was also involved with alterations to Dr. William Bolton's house for its tenant, Mrs. Belle Barlow Bush; the addition of a bath and closet to the Theodore Irwin house; alterations to the interior of an Oaklawn house for architect G. Lawrence Stimson; and dining-room alterations and bookcases for the West California Street house of Mr. Lon F. Chapin. On November 19, 1907, it was reported in the Pasadena Star that Charles Sumner Greene had offered to contribute his design services for the erection of a "casino" on Pasadena's Monk Hill (Charles's drawings more picturesquely describe it as a "Shelter for Viewlovers"). In a design spirit similar to the Oaklawn waiting station (1906), the robust stone-and-timber shelter was designed to seem like a natural outgrowth of the hilltop, looking from the moment it was finished as if it had always been there. It was adopted by the community, and locally became the site of the annual Independence Day picnic. The structure was demolished in 1923 to clear the site for a school. Charles Greene likely spent much of the spring of 1908 on the building sites of the Gamble and Blacker houses. The commission to design a house for William J. Lawless, which also came into the office during this period, likely fell mostly to Henry. It was a relatively modest residence compared with the estates on which the brothers were spending so much of their time, and the uncomplicated but inventive design (now significantly destroyed) recalled the Greenes' simpler work of 1904 and 1905. Spacious porches and balconies were more prominent than on their earlier houses, however. A long terrace of stone and wood crossed the breadth of the front elevation, and the depth of the overhanging eaves and distinctive profiling of the beam ends were carried out using the newest Greene and Greene design and construction methods. Lawless was happy with his house, and in November 1908 persuaded his neighbor and friend, George H. Letteau, to allow the Greenes to design and supervise the construction of a pergola and brick walk to connect their adjacent houses. In the late spring of 1908, the Greenes were asked to develop a series of sketches for a winter residence in the resort town of Nordhoff, in the idyllic Ojai valley north of Los Angeles. The clients were Charles Millard Pratt and Mary Seymour Morris Pratt, of Brooklyn, New York. Like his father, Charles Pratt, Sr., the younger Pratt was an officer of the Standard Oil Company, which had purchased the Charles M. Pratt Company, developer of the internationally successful lighting kerosene "Astral Oil."28 The senior Pratt had cultivated in his family a love of wood architecture in the wild by building one of the first rustic "camps" in the southwest Adirondack Mountains in 1870. The family vacationed at the cabin every summer until 1905, and in 1909 the younger Charles Pratt purchased his own "camp" on Little Moose Lake in the Adirondack League Club preserve near Old Forge, New York. He and Mary also owned a farm in Connecticut, a city residence on Clinton Avenue in Brooklyn, and a Shingle Style vacation house called "Seamoor" (a play on his wife's middle name) on one thousand acres near Glen Cove, Long Island. The younger Pratt maintained his father's honest affection for wood architecture in spectacularly beautiful settings, and when the son announced his intent to build in "the Ojai," his chosen architects could be assured of a serious and appreciative client. Under what circumstances the Greenes were chosen is not precisely known but the Pratts may have seen their work on their occasional visits to Pasadena. It is also interesting to note that Mrs. Pratt was a Vassar College classmate (1880) of Caroline Canfield Thorsen, a soon-to-be Greene and Greene client and sister of Nellie Canfield (Mrs. Robert R.) Blacker. Unlike the Blacker and Gamble houses, the fourteen-acre site chosen by the Pratts for their home had no near neighbors and no artificial conditions governing its development or the design of the house to be located on it. Further, there were abundant natural features to which the actual positioning of the house could be related. If the Blacker and Gamble houses represented the high art of suburban domestic architecture of the period, the Pratt house and grounds signify their rural counterpart, with an altogether less formal design program for the house and furnishings that reflected, in design and decoration, the open countryside on which it would be built. The principle defining characteristic of the property was a steep ravine, or barranca, that ran from the foot of the Topa Topa mountains to the valley below, and gave the house its name, Casa Barranca. Preliminary sketches for the house, drawn in June 1908, show a rigid, L-shaped plan, with a small, one-story sleeping porch appended at a forty-five-degree angle onto one end of the house. The Greenes soon recognized, however, that the views and the hilly topography on the edge of the property's ravine were conducive to a more informal plan. By September 14, 1908, the basis of the Greenes' final design had been worked out. It featured a radically informal, V-shaped plan (that maintained the original angled porch) and interior volumes of various heights, all under a constantly changing roofline that echoed the rise and fall of the mountains behind it. The chimneys and foundation would be constructed of the sandstone boulders that comprised the local geology, and the exterior of the house would be sheathed in stained split-redwood shakes. Since Charles Pratt had become part-owner of the nearby Foothills Hotel, he and his wife took most of their meals and entertained there. Accordingly, they did not require spacious public rooms for socializing in their new house. Indeed, they reportedly used the house only as "sleeping quarters."34 A single room served as entry hall, reception area, and living room at the pivot point of the V-shaped plan. The beamed ceiling of the seven-sided room, and the light-colored, maple flooring, give the space the informal feel of an Adirondack "camp," minus the rustic hickory bark typical to the idiom. Similar to the Cole and Blacker houses, the entry also serves as a direct passage to the rear terrace through a bank of french doors opposite the front doors. Also like the Blacker entry hall, the space takes on a sitting-room atmosphere, heightened by the inclusion of a fireplace and built-in inglenook bench in the northwest corner. Immediately to the right of the entry, the near-cubic space of the dining room is taller than the other rooms, but compact in area, and clearly expressed on the exterior by a raised portion of roof. The dining room's paneling above the picture rail is redwood, stained subtle hues of red and green and softly lighted by a tall, octagonal chandelier of mahogany and frosted glass with a delicate vine design trailing through its panels. The pattern of chevrons in the fireplace bricks evokes American Indian textile designs, and is faintly echoed in the chevron of the maple floorboards. The two-story wing on the north contains four bedrooms, each with a sleeping porch, balcony, or other independent access to the exterior. The guest bedroom -- a small chamber behind the chimney wall of the living room -- is elegantly distinguished by a pair of leaded-glass transom windows that borrows enough light from the hallway to show the design of a branch, green leaves, and ruby-red and pink blossoms on a field of green and yellow streaks. The design of the fireplace, normally a symmetrical feature in the Greenes' houses, is set off-center to maximize the efficient use of flue space within the chimney stack that serves the bedroom and the living room. Farther along the hallway, a pair of french doors, designed and installed by Henry Greene early in the life of the house, were added to replace the original casement windows, thereby correcting a defect in circulation logic that had not allowed for access to the rear terrace from the bedroom wing of the house. (More recently, french doors have been added to the kitchen for the same reason.) On the north end of the plan, the charming lower-level sleeping porch, originally without walls or screens, angles to the east to provide privacy from the motor court on one side and take advantage of the mountain views on the other. The roof of the bedroom wing provides adequate shade to the upper level but also gave the Greenes an opportunity to expose an elaborate structure of tenoned-and-pegged queen-post trusses on the interior of the northerly, upper-level bedroom. On two sides of the room, the white-cedar ceiling slopes with the drop of the roof, creating an intimate cabin-like ambience. Mr. and Mrs. Pratt occupied the finished house for the first time during the winter of 1911, and the dining-room furniture was delivered personally by Peter Hall in February of that year. Carefully scaled to complement the room sizes, the furniture is noticeably more compact, and less formal, than the corresponding Blacker or Gamble pieces. Reflecting the size constraint of the room itself, the table was not designed to expand. Living-room furniture was not designed until in 1912, and reflects the Greenes' increasingly decorative design vocabulary. In contrast to earlier pieces, the living-room chairs are wider, more accommodating, and less rigid than the chairs for the Gambles and the Blackers. And, if possible, they are more sumptuous in their use of materials. An eight-sided library table -- small compared with others they had executed -- was designed and constructed with exceptionally beautiful pieces of fiddleback mahogany in the top. An exquisite drop-front desk, also for the living room, was decorated with inlays of contrasting woods in the form of a venerable and gnarled oak tree, and was considered worthy of a rare detail photograph by Leroy Hulbert, who was commissioned by the Greenes in about 1915 to document their most important work. The desk's chair nominally relates to the simple formality of Charles Rennie Mackintosh's ladderback pieces for Windyhill (1901), but its silver inlays and wave-like perforations give it a design identity that is comparatively more decorative than architectural. Though Charles Greene's hand was clearly at work in the design of the Pratt house, Henry Greene and Peter Hall were left to see that the house was built according to plan. Charles departed for England just prior to the beginning of construction, though even after his return, and for many years following, his brother was the one to return to supervise the ongoing maintenance of the house, quietly tending to its needs. The last of the large and elaborate wooden houses designed by Greene and Greene, the William R. Thorsen house in Berkeley, California, was produced nearly simultaneously with the Pratt house -- the presentation drawings were dated only two weeks apart in March 1909. The Thorsen house was designed for an urban lot that offered virtually none of the siting possibilities that the Greenes had been able to choose from while planning the Pratt's Ojai house. It also offered fewer options than were typically available to them even in Pasadena. The client was William Randolph Thorsen, a lumberman who had married the daughter of his employer, and the sister-in-law of his colleague, Robert Blacker. Like Nellie Canfield Blacker, the younger Caroline Canfield Thorsen, known as "Carrie," had inherited a comfortable sum from her father's lumber business in Manistee, Michigan, which, ironically, had been founded by William Thorsen's father, John. A native Norwegian with a strong love of the sea, John Thorsen had incorporated the Stronach Lumber Company in Manistee in 1872 and had hired John Canfield as its president. His young son, William, served as secretary-treasurer. By the 1890s, the Michigan timber business was slowing down, and by 1900 William Thorsen had left for California to establish a new concern, the Westside Lumber Company, near the town of Tuolumne in the goldmining region of the remote foothills of the Sierra Nevada range. He began to reap the benefits of the West's building boom, and in 1903 built for his family a 4,200-square-foot house designed by New York architects Emory and Emory. Called "Thorwald," the house (extant today) is strikingly similar to a Long Island bungalow designed by K. C. Budd that Thorsen may have seen illustrated that year in a popular magazine. It is difficult to imagine that Carrie Thorsen could be fully content with outpost life, after having become accustomed to a high level of social activity in Michigan. After a few years, Thorsen transferred his company's headquarters to San Francisco, and in 1908 he purchased property for a home in Berkeley, near the University of California. It was a corner lot on fashionable Piedmont Avenue, a broad, tree-lined thoroughfare that had been planned by Frederick Law Olmsted in 1865. The choice of Charles and Henry Greene to design the Thorsens' Berkeley residence may seem unusual on the surface. This quiet, bayside academic community had developed an enviable and justified reputation for artistic and progressive housing, much of it for the university's professors. Berkeley favored such well-respected, locally based architects as Bernard Maybeck, Louis Christian Mullgart, Julia Morgan, John Galen Howard, and Ernest Coxhead. The desire to bring the Greenes four hundred miles to the north to execute a complex residential commission was almost certainly driven by sentiment (and possibly a desire for enhanced social standing). The will, and the financial resources of Caroline Thorsen, moved the project ahead. Mrs. Thorsen was aware of the Greenes' work in designing and building her sister and brother-in-law's house in Pasadena's Oak Knoll tract. Family and professional ties between the Thorsens and the Blackers were quite strong, and one way to demonstrate and honor that closeness was for one family to emulate the other's living environment. It also seems more than coincidental that Caroline had graduated from Vassar College in 1880 with Mary Pratt, and that within months of each other, twenty-eight years later, they would both become threads in the web of client connections that fueled the Greenes' classic years of production. Although the design of the house seems to have been a collaboration of the two brothers at the height of their classic period together, the Thorsen house is visually distinct from the Pasadena houses of the same period. This is primarily because of radically different local conditions in Berkeley that dictated how its form would need to function. Cool weather and foggy skies, generated frequently by marine conditions, suggested for the house a steeper roof pitch, shallower eaves, and avoiding cantilevers that would cast deep shadows. This promoted a more vertical orientation of the main mass of the house as compared to the well-defined horizontality of the Pasadena houses. Sleeping porches were less practical in the cooler climate; in their place, the Greenes designed uncovered balconies for enjoying the spectacular westward views of San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate. Stairs, not a formal drive, proved to be the appropriate approach to the front door in the pedestrian-based, urbanized setting of Berkeley, and the garage was hidden from arriving visitors, beyond the service wing on the north property line. But despite these fundamental differences, the house is unmistakably the Greenes' work. The articulation and softening of timbers, the "lift" motif in the windows and doors, and the distinctive use of clinker bricks as a bold foil for the exterior of split redwood shakes, are characteristics of their finest Pasadena work that easily and effectively migrated to the north. The Thorsen house stood out among its mostly stucco neighbors, though especially next to the concrete house immediately to the south, which had been designed by Julia Morgan in 1905 (now the heavily remodeled Chi Psi fraternity chapter). Even if it had been built in the North Berkeley hills, where more of Bernard Maybeck's unstained-shingle houses could be found, the Greenes' design for the Thorsens would still seem out of place, posing as an elegant temple of high-art craft among the charming and quirky shingled cottages for which the city is better known. Charles Keeler's book, The Simple Home (1904), had suggested homebuilding and decorating guidelines for Berkeley hill dwellers that were based on the use of uncomplicated local materials and a palette of hues taken from the surrounding land. The Greenes chose to put precious materials in the service of polished craft, a significantly different approach to arrive at an Arts and Crafts aesthetic. For this reason, the house was, and still is, a local paradox, but one that underscores the broader theoretical distance that existed between the work of mainstream Arts and Crafts practitioners and the Greenes' renowned structures from 1907 to 1910. It is a paradox that continues to challenge the definition of Arts and Crafts architecture. The L-shaped plan of the Thorsen house was dictated by the shape of its corner lot and by the desire for a private and sheltered garden space. Such a plan had the added benefit of creating a natural separation between the family's chambers and the service areas of the house, an important feature in the Thorsens' formally run household. The shape of the plan nestled into the right angle of Piedmont Avenue and Bancroft Way at the low end of the sloping lot. So the house would not loom too large on the west property line, and to avoid significant excavation of soil on the east end of the property, the Greenes limited the wing on Piedmont Avenue to two stories in height, then set the facade back from the street some thirty-five feet. This still produced an imposing mass to the passerby, but one that belied the 9,200-square-foot interior space. The elevated bulk of the west wing was also visually lightened by fitting the facade with large picture windows. Raised planting beds on either side of the massive brick entry stairs beautify the buffer between the house and the sidewalk and promote an ambience of seclusion. The entry stairs are far more complex than originally presented on the final drawings, which showed a straight run of steps to the door. Charles produced an alternate design, but not until March 1910, a year after the beginning of construction. At the top of the stairs, a deep timber portico, fitted with a broad leaded art-glass lantern, both marks and shelters the entry. The north side of the L-shaped plan is mainly comprised of the service areas of the house in the rear, with the dining room and guest bedroom facing Piedmont Avenue on the front. This wing was developed as a full, three-story gabled elevation, complete with service entrance (with separate address) on Bancroft Way. On the west end of the wing, the guest bedroom opens to a spacious balcony over the projecting bay of the dining room below. At the top the eave is deep, but the descending verge boards rake back at an angle to further open the balcony space to the sky. In late 1909, when the framing and sheathing of the house were completed and the interior was ready to be finished, Mrs. J. W. Beswick-Purchas wrote a letter to William and Caroline Thorsen, her brother and sister-in-law, to offer her impressions of the Greenes' work. She had recently paid a visit to Robert and Nellie Blacker at their new residence in Pasadena, and, in an apparent attempt to influence at least the interiors of the Berkeley house still in construction, she penned this no-nonsense critique: "You will want to know what I think of this house, as that is the question uppermost in your minds at present. Well -- I find the outside of the house and the grounds very pretty and attractive -- but my impressions after moving through the various rooms was that this architect has let his fancy run riot in wood! There is so much wood about the outside that when one finds oneself encased in wooden rooms, wooden wall, wood ceilings, wood floors, wood fixtures for light -- well, one has a little bit the feeling of a spider scrambling from one cigar box to another. The hall is excellent -- as that is a public room and can take the wood surroundings but my own feeling would run to more warmth of color and softer things. However, these are all individual tastes. Only I hope you won't have quite so much wood or people may say: Lumberman! hm! nothing like using up your own goods! I find the porches -- the porte-cochere, etc. -- most attractive. It is the bedrooms that suffer and seem a little cold in this handling. Two heavy beams transect the large guest room and broad bands surround this frieze. This idea, taken from the old English taverns, does not seem suitable to a bedroom. I am thinking of the architect, mind you; this is no personal criticism. All Mr. Green's [sic] woodwork is a delight for the softness of its finish. It is like fresh butter or paste squeezed out of a tube -- so soft are the surfaces and the corners. As for the furniture, I find it very excellent for one or two rooms -- such as the hall or dining room especially -- but in my opinion it is too light in structure and too hard for living rooms. It is all in keeping with the style of architecture and the wall fittings but there is not a deep, soft chair or sofa in the house. It is all as the style of office furniture though it is built on fine old English plain lines and beautiful work. But you see what I mean, don't you? It is studio furniture. I am glad you are furnishing most of the rooms yourself and you will be glad for every bit of color in your rugs if Mr. Green gives you as much wood with a dull finish and sad color as he has here. Nellie's rugs are very fine and very pretty. But too light and dainty in coloring for the somber wood colorings. One more point. Don't let Green light your rooms with lanterns of stained glass. They are very artistic in shape and coloring perceived in the daylight but as points of illumination they are rather negative and one finds oneself in a 'dim religious light' everywhere in the house. This is a damper to a natural buoyant flow of spirits -- a hindrance to work of any sort, and very expensive -- as one has to turn on all the lights in a big room not to feel that one is in moonlight. One more thing. Do have a plain electric light near the beds in your bedrooms and a table beside the bed where this light can stand to be switched on at will. It is rather a nuisance to get out of bed and walk across the room to see what time it is in these dark, early mornings. I am afraid I will leave you with the impression that I like few things in Nellie's house but I have pointed out rather the faults which struck me unfavorably, that you might get another point of view when you are considering all these questions. The dim lights may be grateful to two people with affected eyesight but I am sure they would spoil the ordinary healthy sight in trying to work in indifferent, insufficient light.... Green is leaving today for Berkeley."44 While she left little doubt as to her feelings, it is difficult to say what impact, if any, the criticisms had on the Greenes' and the Thorsens' plans. The program for the public rooms, at least, emulates the Blacker house model in many respects. In both houses, the entry and stair-hall are paneled in teak, and the living and dining rooms are finished in mahogany. Even the dramatic grain of the eight-ply paneling is similar in both houses. As at the Blacker house (and against which Mrs. Beswick-Purchas had warned) mahogany and stained-glass lanterns hang by leather straps from the Thorsens' ceiling in the entry hall, stairway, and upstairs hall. Leaded art glass for the house was executed by Emil Lange, who followed Charles Greene's design for a stout, gnarled grapevine that stretches its limbs from the side lights of the entry into the front door and transom panels. The living room is a long, light-filled space, with a broad window on the west, flanked by casements, and on the south, more windows angled out in a dramatic bay. In January 1910, possibly as a result of the Beswick-Purchas letter, the Greenes designed six recessed ceiling lights as substitutes for the solitary "eye-comfort" fixture that was originally designed to hang in the center of the room. The built-in features of this room rival any among the Greenes' work. Built-in bookcases with glazed cabinet doors dominate the wall space, and a built-in fall-front desk is fitted into the east wall. Mauve Grueby tiles face the fireplace and hearth, and the polished-steel lintel, shaped in the "lift" design, is inlaid with a vine-like pattern in copper and brass. In 1914, Charles Greene designed a steel fire screen, whose image of birds, a serpent, and a bat amid flames, previews the symbolist direction his decorative arts designs would soon take. Gloomy, ebonized wall sconces with leaded art-glass panels shed dim light above the fireplace. Above these, paintings of delicate rose vines form a band of light above the mahogany trim, broken only by planter-shaped brackets from which the vines seem to grow. The exquisite trim detail and overall quality of construction is a tribute to William Issac Ott, who was sent north from Pasadena by Peter Hall to supervise the project. Indeed, the local firm of Hall and Ott was temporarily established for the sole purpose of building the Thorsen house. Off the entry hall is a small den, originally used to display Mr. Thorsen's yachting trophies. Paneled in simple canvas stretched between teak-trim frames, its masculine aspect is reminiscent of Mr. Gamble's den. The dining room is approached from the side, the full view of it a surprise until the moment of entry through double, piano-hinge french doors. Daylight floods in from the west bay of windows, and at night, a fire in the fireplace, and two overhead leaded art-glass boxes, would cast a golden glow on the Greene and Greene furniture. The dining suite was the only furniture originally designed for the house, though several pieces were commissioned later for other areas. The Thorsens purchased American antiques and Persian rugs for the other rooms in the house, but gave the Greenes responsibility even for the rug in the dining room. All of the dining pieces -- sideboard, server, table, and chairs -- were conceptualized by Charles Greene on one sheet of paper. In this way, each piece could be carefully proportioned to the others, and it is arguably the most refined and successful furniture of the Greenes' careers. With the dining table fully extended to seat fourteen, the furniture comes into ideal scale with the room. Decorative inlay, depicting a delicate periwinkle design, is carried out in each piece (except the server) in abalone, oak, and fruitwoods. The chair backs employ a modified "lift" design in the splats, with tiny brass pins fastening ebony connectors to the mahogany uprights. Here also the frieze was painted with branches and blossoms on a trellis structure, bringing a hint of nature indoors. Port Orford cedar was used for built-in drawers and cabinets and for trim material in the upstairs halls and chambers. These included separate suites for Mr. and Mrs. Thorsen, a bedroom in the north wing for their two sons, a guest bedroom, a sewing room, and servants' quarters on the third level. In the basement, a space referred to as the "Jolly Room" was dedicated to stage performances and leisure activities for the boys. In all aspects, the Thorsen house was designed and built to the highest standards, and represents the Greenes at the height of their powers working together as a team. It would not last. With this commission, the door closed on the era of the "ultimate bungalows" and the coming years would never generate the same level of progressive design within the Arts and Crafts idiom.