BB House, a modest, two-story unreinforced masonry structure, originally constructed in 1923 has been transformed into a contemporary mixed-use building in the heart of Seattle’s urban core, providing much-needed housing alongside vibrant street-level retail, seamlessly blending historic charm with modern functionality.
(Rafael Soldi/PUBLIC47)
It’s not as if the old two-story building at the corner of 12th and Remington Court, in Seattle’s First Hill neighborhood, was ever particularly remarkable. Even in its original incarnation, it was a straightforward, utilitarian, mixed-use structure—competently built but not especially well-proportioned or ornately detailed.
By 2019, the brickwork and terracotta trim still hinted at the building’s 1920s origins, but decades of ill-conceived modifications had steadily obscured its quiet charm. Glassy storefronts that once engaged sidewalk activity had been infilled with framed walls, wood siding, and punched openings. Ill-suited metal awnings were added indiscriminately to all openings, regardless of size. Along the inward-facing east façade, upper-level balconies were enclosed to capture more interior space, and a series of lean-to garages—clad in mismatched brick veneer—were added in the early 1980s.
Although these changes diluted the building’s architectural clarity, the structure itself remained serviceable. Restaurants and small shops continued to occupy the street level, from which they spilled into the garage additions; four one-bedroom apartments upstairs provided housing within walking distance of Seattle University, Capitol Hill, and the Central District. Years of deferred maintenance took their toll, though, and more critically, the unreinforced masonry structure carried all the seismic vulnerabilities typical of its era. The building’s future, like that of many modest, aging structures on valuable land, was far from assured.
From a prototypical development standpoint, the more financially straightforward option would have been to demolish the structure and start anew. Doing so would have allowed the project to maximize yield while avoiding the technical complexities and cost uncertainties inherent in retrofitting an unreinforced masonry shell. Matt Mohr and Suzie Black, a Seattle-based development team and married couple, understood that reality from the outset.
Because they tend to hold their projects long-term, though, the question was not simply how much could be built but what kind of building—and neighborhood presence—they wanted to invest in for decades to come.
Early on, their approach was influenced by fellow Seattle developer Liz Dunn, a longtime advocate for adaptive reuse and a respected voice in the local development community. When Black and Mohr asked Dunn for her help with the project, her response was unequivocal: She would participate only if the existing building was preserved. The clarity of that position helped sharpen the team’s resolve. For Mohr, the appeal of saving the building was immediate. He saw in the existing structure not a constraint but instead an opportunity to produce a richer, more layered result—one that would age better, feel more contextually grounded, and ultimately serve the neighborhood and ensure the project’s long-term performance.
Preservation, long-term stewardship
The decision to preserve the existing structure and build on it reflects an approach to development that prioritizes long-term stewardship over short-term yield. By recognizing the cultural and environmental value in retaining a piece of the neighborhood’s older stock, the project elevates durability, architectural character, and contextual continuity alongside financial performance.
From this perspective, preservation was not about creating a museum piece but was about resisting the steady erasure of the area’s history and supporting a richer urban fabric where old and new are interwoven. Even relatively ordinary buildings can become meaningful neighborhood heirlooms, connecting past, present, and future. The decision to build on what already existed set the tone for the entire project, shaped its physical form, and shifted the underlying ambition from maximizing output to maximizing urban contribution.
Design challenge
Once the decision to preserve was made, the design challenge became how to substantially increase density while allowing the original structure to remain legible and primary. Two parallel goals guided the strategy: maximizing residential yield, and retaining the scale and character that anchored the building to its context.
The project established a clear hierarchy by pairing limited intervention atop the historic structure with more intensive development on the adjacent portion of the site, where new construction could absorb the bulk of the added density without overwhelming the original building.
The project increased the unit count from four to 22 through two key moves: a single-story penthouse set back, atop the existing structure, and a five-story addition occupying what was once a surface parking lot on the property’s east side. The penthouse was deliberately limited to one level to preserve the visual primacy of the original building, even though doing so meant leaving allowable height and floor area unused. By contrast, the eastern addition was designed to fully capitalize on its portion of the site, its massing shaped by a separate zoning designation with independent floor area ratio and setback requirements calculated apart from the historic structure.
The new volumes are intentionally distinct from the brick base. Profiled metal cladding provides a sharp material contrast while sharing qualities of durability and texture. Secondary materials—black-framed windows and infill panels—help bridge old and new into a cohesive whole. Detailing is straightforward and purposeful. Radiused corners (rounded ones that replace sharp 90-degree angles), for example, allow corrugated siding to wrap cleanly without the need for corner trim.
To make the five-story addition viable within its constrained footprint, the residential units were designed to be compact but livable—primarily, small one-bedroom and open one-bedroom layouts calibrated to feel generous, despite their size. A Seattle-specific code provision allowing a single exit stair proved instrumental in maximizing plan efficiency by enabling a denser, more affordable infill approach on a tight site.
The resulting unit mix reflects the project’s context: smaller units oriented toward students and early-career renters, four mid-sized one-bedrooms aligned with the footprints of the original second-floor apartments, and a pair of three-bedroom penthouse units intended to accommodate families or university faculty seeking proximity to campus.
Neighborhood support
Community input played a central role in shaping the building’s public presence. Meetings with Seattle’s grass-roots land-use review organization, LURC, revealed long-standing neighborhood support for improving the pedestrian character of East Remington Court. In recent years, local landscape architecture firm Hewitt developed a woonerf (“living street” in Dutch) proposal for the right-of-way after engaging the community in a series of design charrettes. Although that project was never realized, enthusiasm for the concept persisted, thus inspiring the project team’s inclusion of an expansive curb bulb at the corner of 12th and Remington Court to calm traffic and expand sidewalk space.
Walkability was further enhanced by restoring full storefront glazing along the original façade. That change created a continuous canopy for rain protection and introduced folding glass doors that open directly to the sidewalk from the corner retail space. The strong street edge established by the five-story addition is recessed at ground level to form an entry porch and expanded sidewalk zone, creating a modest but meaningful civic threshold. A two-sided bench identifies the residential lobby, which opens to an intimate communal courtyard via an oversized sliding glass pocket door. The courtyard features a conversation pit with fire table, lush plantings, breezeblock walls, and a bioretention planter that collects runoff from the new structure’s butterfly roof.
During selective demolition, portions of the original firewalls—constructed from vertically laminated dimensional lumber, a technique common to the building’s era—were carefully salvaged and reused as wall finishes in the residential lobby and elevator lobbies. These elements provide warmth and texture while maintaining a tangible connection to the building’s past.
The result is not a landmark but, instead, a working building with renewed purpose: part preservation, part infill, part experiment in layering old and new. In a neighborhood shaped by university life and a shifting rental populace, the project underscores how architectural value need not come only from pristine preservation or total replacement. Sometimes, it emerges from the choice to keep what might otherwise be discarded—and to build upon those remnants to create something greater than the sum of the constituent parts. In doing so, the project highlights a broader opportunity facing many growing cities: how modest aging buildings can be thoughtfully intensified rather than erased, yielding density without severing urban continuity.
