a new kind of home

How a Hillcrest Forest couple updated their abode to adjust to life as empty nesters bruce Bernbaum remembers the day he moved into his new house.

You won’t find a sofa in Bruce and Cindy Bernbaum’s living room — only a clean, artistic style that they previously couldn’t sustain amid their daughters’ dance practices and sleepovers.

He was hot and tired after shuffling boxes around, so he decided to try out the steam shower — a 4-by-5-foot area of blue slate that continues up the wall, making the space appear even larger.

As he let the hot water run over him, he reveled in the joy of what he had just accomplished: a new home, perfectly personalized for him and his wife, Cindy, as they embarked on a new phase — life after kids.

“I just stood there and started giggling,” he says.

Of course, the Bernbaums love their two daughters, Abby and Zoe, who have gone on to college after attending Kramer Elementary, Franklin Middle School and Hillcrest High. But Bruce and Cindy also love coming home to a quiet, uncluttered house free of chaos. So in spring 2009, after their youngest headed to the University of Texas, Bruce began sketching out designs to de-baby proof their home and incorporate a more sophisticated artistic style, updating the kitchen and expanding their master bedroom and bath.

“We made a decision to stay here and make it more comfortable for us,” he says about their mid-century modern home located within walking distance of the Jewish Community Center and North

Haven Gardens.

Bruce is an architect by trade with his own firm, Bernbaum Magadini Architects. But that doesn’t mean he’s immune to the challenges that come with a major renovation.

‘Remodelcide’

Bruce has a word for it — that sinking feeling you get when you realize you’ve wholly committed to having your rooms gutted and the floor torn apart. It’s remodel suicide, or “remodelcide”. But it doesn’t have to be that stressful, he says.

“Stuff is going to happen, and it’s how you deal with it. We don’t have any preconceived notions about how the house should be designed.”

The girls’ dance room is now the den where Bruce and Cindy relax in the evenings.

Take, for instance, the Bernbaums’ air conditioning debacle. The house, which was built around 1956, had an AC system that ran underneath the foundation. When they decided to replace the flooring, they discovered that the ductwork had collapsed.

Solution: Drop down the ceilings and re-install the AC there. Crisis averted. Luckily, they contracted out all of the major construction.

“We’re not stupid enough to do that [ourselves],” Bruce says.

But you can find Bruce’s design vision all around the house, which is lined completely with windows on the east side to merge the indoors with the outdoors. Make no mistake — this is a house for adults. The spacious living room has clean modern lines and no sofa — only a large, glass dining room table for dinner parties.

“We love to entertain,” Cindy says. “We’re trying things that we want to try. Like art.”

Several delicate artworks adorn the now it could have its own zip code, Bruce jokes.