Belle Étoile
A French Provincial home in Hunters Hill built for three generations under one roof, with the grandparents' own living space, bedroom and bathroom on the ground floor, and a discreetly placed lift ensuring every part of the house stays within easy reach as they age.
The Vision
This one started with a simple wish: keep the family together, without asking anyone to give up their own space.
Three generations were going to live under this roof, and each needed something different from it. The grandparents wanted a home that still felt like their own, not a room tacked onto someone else's house. Their kids needed room for the everyday chaos of raising a family. And everyone needed a way to actually be together for dinners and mornings and the small stuff, without tripping over each other to get it.
So we planned the ground floor around the grandparents first: their own living area, bedroom and bathroom, close enough to the heart of the home to never feel cut off, private enough to feel like theirs alone. A lift was worked into the plan early, tucked in quietly, so that if stairs ever become harder, the rest of the house stays just as reachable as it is today. It's the kind of detail nobody notices on a walkthrough and everybody's grateful for, ten years in.
The French Provincial language gave us a natural way to hold it all together. Its proportions are generous enough to let a home divide gracefully into separate worlds without losing the sense that it's one house, one family.
The Exterior & First Impression
You notice the proportions before you notice anything else. There's a central pediment above the entry, carved with a custom armorial motif and finished with hand wrought iron cresting, and the whole facade seems to organise itself around it; every window, every pilaster, every cornice line answering back to that same axis.
The stone is cut limestone, laid in deep, dressed blocks that catch the light differently depending on the hour, and a slate roof sits low and close over the top of it all, the way these homes have always worn their roofs. Upstairs, a Juliet balcony is fitted with hand forged ironwork rather than anything cast from a mould, because a cast pattern repeats itself and a forged one doesn't; there's a subtle irregularity to it that only comes from a human hand.
The front door is solid timber, deep set and iron hinged, with leadlight sidelights either side that catch the morning sun and throw soft, broken light into the entry hall long before you've actually stepped inside. Out front, the garden plays the same game: clipped parterre hedging, standard roses, lavender laid out in a formal grid, and a cobbled path that physically slows your pace as you approach. Nothing rushed about the arrival here.
The Grand Interiors
Walk in and the ceilings do the talking first. They're generous, coffered in places, finished with ornate cornice run entirely by hand to echo the classical language of the facade, rather than anything you'd find off a shelf.
But it's the floor plan that tells the real story of this house. The ground floor wing, complete with its own living space, has been woven into the same architectural language as the rest of the home, so rather than feeling like a separate flat bolted onto the side, it simply reads as one more beautifully proportioned room in a considered whole.
The kitchen sits at the centre of it all, as it should in a house built for gathering. A book matched stone island anchors the room beneath a run of brushed brass and glass pendants, with natural white oak joinery warming up what could otherwise feel quite austere. A butler's pantry runs behind the main bench, keeping the mess of actual cooking tucked out of view when the room shifts into entertaining mode. From there, the space opens straight through to the dining hall and out again to covered alfresco living, resolving that old tension between European formality and the way Australian families actually live, outdoors, barefoot, most of the year.
Upstairs, the master ensuite leans into marble and silver nickel: a freestanding tub beneath a crystal drop chandelier, hand set marble panelling, and an oversized rain shower to match. And tucked downstairs, a private cinema room with deep upholstery and full black out drapery proves that a home built for three generations still needs somewhere for everyone to just switch off together.
It's a house built the old way: proportion first, craft second, and comfort doing its work quietly in the background.
Power in Numbers
5
Bedrooms
5
Bathrooms
4
Car Garage
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Frequently Asked Questions
1. Can a French Provincial home actually work for multigenerational living, or does the style limit the floor plan?
Not at all, and this project is a good example of why. The generous proportions and symmetrical bones of French Provincial architecture actually lend themselves well to dividing a home into distinct zones, because the style was never about one single open plan; it's built on a rhythm of considered, individual rooms.
2. Do multigenerational homes cost significantly more to build than a standard family home?
Generally yes, simply because you're building more self-contained infrastructure, a second living area, extra bathrooms, sometimes a lift or a separate entry. The exact cost depends on how much duplication the brief calls for, which is something we work through closely with every family at the design stage.
3. Is it possible to add a lift to a home without it dominating the floor plan?
Yes, with the right planning from the outset. The key is considering it early, rather than trying to squeeze one in later, so it can be tucked into the architecture in a spot that makes sense structurally and aesthetically, rather than becoming an obvious add-on.
4. How do you deal with the design process when there may be several adults all living under one roof with different wants and needs? How do you bring all the ideas together in one cohesive design solution?
This is often the real challenge of multigenerational projects, more than the architecture itself. We start by drawing together everyone's non-negotiables. From there, it's about finding the overlaps: everyone in this family wanted connection at mealtimes, for instance, even if they disagreed on bedroom layouts. Those shared priorities become the spine of the design, and the individual preferences get resolved within that framework, through separate zones, acoustic separation, and private living areas, rather than through compromise on the overall architectural vision. The goal is never a house designed by committee, it's a house where four very different sets of needs all feel genuinely considered.
5. Will a dedicated grandparent wing affect the resale value of the home?
If anything, it tends to add to it. Multigenerational living is becoming increasingly common, and a well integrated private wing, complete with its own bathroom, living space and separate access if needed, broadens the pool of future buyers considerably, from other multigenerational families to anyone wanting space for a home office, guest suite or adult child moving back in. The key is making sure it's built in properly from the start, so it reads as a thoughtfully designed feature of the home rather than an obvious retrofit.