Step Inside: A 1975 John Burrows Home
Sometimes you see a space and know it has a good story. That’s certainly true of Laura Lisowski’s mid-century modern home in Lake Forest Park, Washington, which she shares with her partner, Erick, and dog, River.
Lovingly dubbed the Burrows Haus, the 1975 two-story house was designed by John Burrows, a local architect who built dozens of homes in the Seattle area in the 1960s and ’70s. True to Burrows’ signature style, it blends seamlessly with the surrounding nature, with spacious windows that offer abundant natural sunlight. Images by Britt Hale.
Laura has been keen on preserving the home’s unique character, but that doesn’t mean she treats it like a museum, either. In Laura’s words, “We are ‘lived-in’ people, and that extends to the way we want our home to feel.” We asked Laura to tell us more about the house, including what it has been like to honor the space while making it her own.
Tell us about your background! What has shaped your design aesthetic?
I grew up in the Seattle area. Over the last ten years, I spent four years in San Francisco followed by six years in Europe in both London and Amsterdam. I had the opportunity to travel all over the world, climbing mountains, working in tech, and appreciating the best of food and design everywhere I went. That’s when I fell in love with Nordic design sensibilities—the minimalist style mixed with cabin vibes and well-constructed, thoughtful details.
What was looking for a house like? How did you know you’d found the right home?
Upon moving back to the U.S. mid-pandemic, I searched for a home that felt like “me” and that would live up to my almost unrealistic expectations: Near the city, but woodsy. Not dilapidated, but still old with loads of character. Something original that still left room to make it my own.
Along the way, I met my partner, Erick, who is Finnish. He has a similar passion for good design. Through our search in the Seattle area, we learned about a local architect, John Burrows, who built between 35 and 40 homes in North Seattle, each with characteristic flat roofs and skylights aplenty.
Once we found out about Burrows’ homes, many of which are spread out over the Kenmore and Lake Forest Park areas of Seattle, we knew we had to have one. Once you see a Burrows house, it’s hard to unsee.
Can you share a little bit about your home’s background?
Our house has had only one owner since it was built in 1975. She kept to herself, but we know she had a big personality based on the notes she left scattered throughout drawers—diaries, almost—of her meticulous attention to each and every detail. She reminded me of me.
Upon moving into our home, we found a note in our mailbox from her boyfriend at the time of her passing. He detailed the decades that he observed her working on her roof anytime he passed by her house, and then, eventually, the love story that ensued between them when they both found themselves widowed. It’s clear how much she was loved, and how much of that love was then poured into this house we now get to call home.
What has been your approach to updating the home?
The beautiful thing is that I actually don’t want to change much of anything (other than maybe a few tweaks in the kitchen, as we do more big Costco bulk shops than your average person back in 1975 did). We are insistent on keeping as much of the house intact as it was originally built. No painting beams black or whitewashing the brick around here.
As a nod to our love story and common interests, you’ll find many things that honor “us” around the home. We both grew up obsessing over airplanes, going to local airshows, and living life with an explorer mentality. There are also touches of travel, as Erick and I originally bonded over our shared love of different cultures. And one of our favorite touches is our Almost Heaven sauna parked directly outside our house in the forest—an ode to Erick’s Finnish heritage and my many trips up to the Nordics in the preceding years.
In your opinion, what makes a house a home?
Home is an open book on the nightstand, a sandwich made with love sitting on the kitchen counter, a doormat filled with sloppily kicked off shoes, a half-finished art project waiting for completion. Home is dog prints on the window, just baked coffee cake, it's cozy and lived in. It is functional and approachable.
Our home is filled with posters accumulated from trips to the Alps, canal house figurines from past lives in Amsterdam, books collected from bookshops in far-flung places, and vases salvaged at tiny thrift shops in remote Norway. It holds good memories, hard memories, laugh-till-you-wet-your-pants memories, and corners where life decisions have been made.
Finally, can you tell us about a few Schoolhouse favorites and why you chose them for your home?
I’ve owned Schoolhouse flip clocks for years, and no matter where I’ve lived in the world, they’ve helped me stay on track.
We’ve also owned several Schoolhouse quilts—honorable mention to the Stillwater Floral Quilt, which carried me through an illness last year and felt like a hug. I also dig the linen bedding for the hot summer months.
Lastly, the accent pillows, the bedding pillows, all of the pillows. I told Erick when we furnished our first house together, “Don’t look anywhere but Schoolhouse for pillows. They are the best, and they are worth it.” Needless to say, we have them in every room of the house.
