My House: They Said Farewell to London and Moved Into a 17th-Century Water Mill
For artists Miriam Nabarro and Simon Quinn, the transition from living in a London apartment to a 17th-century mill in rural Hampshire marked a new chapter in their creative practices. From the moment they set foot on site, the couple were captivated by the property’s potential—a sentiment shared by architect Oliver Cooke, cofounder of London-based Cooke Fawcett Architects.
"It’s the kind of amazing site where you visit, and you have to try not to get too excited," he says. "The way it’s embedded in nature is extraordinary—it’s this historic mill surrounded by woods and water. It’s a really provocative place."
While the couple had initially dreamed of transforming the 17th-century mill into a studio, it soon became apparent that its historical importance and listed status would make this impossible. Instead, it served as inspiration for a new, separate studio and an extension that wraps around the Victorian-era mill cottage, framing the past with the present.
The extension wraps around the brick walls of the original home. It features large glazed doors that slide open to the veranda for seamless indoor/outdoor living when the weather allows. The dining table has been in Miriam’s family for several generations, and it’s paired with some "very battered" midcentury Magistretti chairs.
The design process was intensely collaborative, and Miriam’s Australian heritage and love of architect Glenn Murcutt was a driving inspiration for the project’s embrace of indoor/outdoor living.
"It was such a shared passion," says Cooke. "That Australian, tropical interpretation of modernism is very lean and utilitarian, but elegant. It felt like an interesting fit for a utilitarian space that needed to inspire. One of the things I found so interesting about the brief was this combination of very practical yet very atmospheric elements."
The thoughtful integration of old and new has transformed an unloved yet historically important site into a home that not only elevates everyday moments and facilitates the practical aspects of Miriam and Simon’s creative practices, but inspires a deeper connection with the natural world and new artistic exploration.
We asked the creative couple about what it takes to turn a historic landmark into a home.
Can you tell me about your creative practices? Has the move to a rural location changed the way you work?
Simon: I’ve been a picture framer for 28 years. Our location change coincides with a new phase of my crafting practice—I’m broadening out to decorative items and furniture and will be making pieces from the wood on the property. It feels right to respect this landscape by referring to it in my practice.
Miriam: I trained as a scenographer and theater designer and, for the past 15 years, I’ve had a parallel practice as a visual artist. Since the move, I’ve been working with more natural and ephemeral materials. I’m very aware of the light, so I’m doing more cyanotypes and using more reflective surfaces.
The existing Mill house was likely built in the 19th Century—around 1830, estimates homeowner Simon Quinn—and is attached to a 17th-century mill. "We assume it’s the same mill mentioned in the Doomsday Book," says Quinn. While the Victorian-era house has been renovated and extended by Cooke Fawcett Architects, the Grade II–listed mill hasn’t been developed due to planning restrictions (although it does house plant equipment for the renewable heating and hot water systems).
What was behind the decision to move from London, and what attracted you to this historic site?
Miriam: It was a really pragmatic decision. We had been wanting to move out of our two-bedroom flat and couldn’t afford the kind of house we wanted in London. We saw this place on a beautiful May day, and it seemed too good an opportunity to pass up—a romantic, semi-derelict mill on a gorgeous river surrounded by waist-high grass and poppies. The price was the same as our London flat, so it felt like a direct swap.
How did the collaboration with Cooke Fawcett Architects come about?
Miriam: We met through a common friend. We wanted to do something wonderful with light and space, and work with an architect who could appreciate the historic nature of the site, but also be really bold and contemporary. We invited three architects to visit the site, and we were just blown away by the conversations we had with Ollie.
What was your brief to the firm?
Miriam: The brief was to create a studio and extend the existing house in a way that would relate to the historic mill. Our two main influences were Glenn Murcutt and MJ Long. We were delighted to discover that these architects also inspire Ollie’s practice. That began the conversation of how spaces could be internal and external at the same time, how light could be used, and how materials could sit in relation to an environment rather than in tension with it.
The studio opens out to a large veranda, which features a six-foot-long vintage French trough sink. The couple use it for soaking willow prior to weaving and washing out cyanotype prints. "We had an epic search for the right sleepers for the verandah," says Miriam. "Eventually, we found some Jarrah sleepers. It’s an Australian timber, so it felt right."
What was your vision for the new artist’s studio?
Miriam: We have always had studios in rented or found spaces. Over 25 or 30 years, you become accustomed to inhabiting spaces that aren’t built for purpose—they might be up five flights of stairs or not have running water. Suddenly, we were building our own space. It’s been a really interesting process to imagine what the flow would be and the best way to set up the space, and to think about what we really want and need.
How does the design of the new studio and the extension complement the original water mill?
Miriam: When we first bought the house, we thought we could convert the mill into this wonderful studio space. Very quickly, though, we realized that the listing was about the very rare, 200-year-old mill mechanism.
Simon: We have this beautiful, historic space that we can’t develop or use, and so the horizontality of the mill informed the design decisions made about the studio and the extension.
The studio comprises two equally sized spaces—one for Miriam and one for Simon—connected by double doors. The in-between space acts as storage, a small kitchenette, and Miriam’s darkroom. Each studio space is designed to meet the specific needs of the artist. Miriam’s space, for example, is punctuated by an enormous round window that allows her to draw inspiration from the surrounding landscape, while the walls in Simon’s space are dedicated to timber and tool storage.
How does the extension relate to the existing home?
Miriam: We didn’t want to be in this epic, massive extension that would overshadow the house. We wanted it to be a very livable home.
Simon: The spaces are intimate enough that you don’t feel like you’re rattling around in them if it’s just you, but we had 18 people here for Christmas and it didn’t feel crowded—it’s a nice balance. In preplanning, the advice was that the extension needed to be more subservient to the house, and we lost a couple of feet from the extension. I was really grinding my teeth throughout the build, but now that we are living here, I can see that the new spaces sit well with the other spaces in the house.
"It doesn’t feel like we’ve bolted an aircraft hanger to the side of a cottage, which would be the risk of a grander scale." —Simon Quinn, Resident
What are some of the major changes that transformed the mill house into a home for you?
Simon: The reconfiguration of the upstairs was significant, as we needed to turn four bedrooms into four bedrooms and two bathrooms while not making the bedrooms feel cramped. That was quite a geometrical trick, and there were innumerable iterations of floor plans.
Miriam: I felt like it was all about opening it up and letting light in with the extension. We also made the hallway more generous and reduced some living areas, which gives the sense of the transit spaces being spaces in their own right. The discovery of the historic bread oven and reconfiguring of the kitchen so that everything revolved around the hearth was also important.
How did the discovery of the historic bread oven influence the design of the kitchen?
Miriam: The builder couldn’t believe it when he found it! We had assumed it was just bricked up rubble, but it is a 2.5-meter-wide bread oven, and we think it’s potentially a place where villagers would come to bake bread using flour from the corn mill. The original plan was a very sleek, modern kitchen, but the bread oven changed everything.
Simon: It radically altered our stylistic decisions to be more in keeping with what we discovered. It’s a very different vision to the clean, minimal vision we first had.
An enormous bread oven was uncovered during construction, completely changing the vision for the new kitchen. As a result, the couple had to reapply for planning permissions to incorporate it into the space. The blue Verner Panton Flowerpot pendant lamp over the center island is a nod to the blue staircase and acts as a counterpoint to the earthy tones. "It’s one of my favorite purchases for the house," says Simon.
What was the thinking behind the beautiful pigmented plaster used on the walls?
Miriam: We had an amazingly skilled plasterer working on the site, and we fell in love with what he could do with pigment. We then decided to only work with pigmented plaster in a natural palette.
Simon: It imposes a certain aesthetic on the entire house—all the surfaces are plastered and not painted, so there’s a lot of modulation in the color and a lot more texture. Discovering we could pigment the lime plaster instead of painting also saved us loads of money.
How did you decide on the natural palette?
Miriam: We couldn’t live in the home while the build was happening, so we went to Orkney [an archipelago in Scotland]. There’s a beautiful beach there with massive boulders and the palette of the stone is so beautiful. We collected five pebbles from the beach and brought them back to use as a reference.
Simon: The dusky pinks, slate grays, limestones, and beiges are all colors that we found on that beach. It’s a very harmonious and earthy palette that is easy on the eye and on the soul.
The sky-blue stair was inspired by one of Miriam’s childhood memories. "We used to stay in a cottage with a blue staircase and I remember painting it with my dad," she recalls. "There was always this sense that the blue stairs brought happiness. It’s also a bit of a revolt against the ‘beige on beige’ trend."
How did you approach furnishing the spaces?
Miriam: It’s a mix of inherited and found stuff we had in London, new pieces, and stuff Simon found on eBay. We wanted the furniture to have a lighter footprint so it would sit gently within the beautiful architectural spaces.
What is your favorite spot?
Simon: At the moment, my favorite spot is sitting on the outdoor sofa under the overhanging roof of the studio. I love to start my day with a cup of tea in the sun. There are so many favorite spots though. In winter, sitting around the wood burner in the extension is an obvious joy.
The studio and extension both take inspiration from the work of celebrated Australian architect Glenn Murcutt. "My mother is Australian and I have lots of family in Sydney," says Miriam. "I’ve also spent time on residency at the Boyd Education Centre at Bundanon, which is designed by Glenn Murcutt and Kerstin Thompson, and out in the Northern Territory. I really love the way Murcutt uses light."
Do you have any tips for creatives who are designing their own studios?
Miriam: Keep it simple! Double the amount of storage you think you’re going to need; and try to design around off-the-shelf materials and fittings to reduce cost and wastage— our biggest cost by far was the bespoke glazed units.Also, add more power sockets than you think you will need!
Simon: And, if you think you have your budget, you’re wrong. Double it—at least—for comfort!
What about tips for people looking to refurbish historic architecture?
Simon: Our decision to go with a builder who was less comfortable with the new build parts of the project than he was with refurbishing the old building was a good one. Being a real specialist in old buildings of this style in this area was so important, and he knew tradesmen who could do these jobs and had the expertise to refurbish the house sympathetically. That was crucial.
More My House stories:
The Live-In Studio of Lanzarote’s Beloved Artist Is Embedded Into Lava Rock
Nadav Kander’s Ibiza Retreat Is Worlds Away From the Island’s Nightlife
They Wanted the Perfect Art Gallery, So They Renovated Their Own Home
Project Credits:
Architect: Cooke Fawcett Architects / @cookefawcett
Builder/General Contractor: Paul Roper Traditional Building and Carpentry
Structural Engineer: Philip Cooper, Cambridge Architectural Research
Interior Design: Cooke Fawcett Architects
Heritage Consultant: Architectural History Practice
Photographer: James Brittain
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