In the age of fast-track renovations and turnkey new builds, taking five years to finish a house might sound like a design cautionary tale. But for a family of six building their dream compound outside Portland, Oregon, that timeline was a tool—one that allowed interior designer Jessica Helgerson, principal of AD PRO Directory firm Jessica Helgerson Interior Design, and architect Yianni Doulis to wrestle with the land itself before committing to a plan.
The 50-acre site, logged just before World War II and untouched in the decades since, offered no obvious clearing for a house. “It took us a while to figure out where the house should go,” Doulis says. Using drone surveys to map the forest canopy, the team tested how views might shift if certain trees were felled, inching toward a location that felt both deliberate and deferential to the land.
Once the site was set, the clients arrived with a clear vision: a farmhouse that felt native to the Pacific Northwest, with interiors meant to be durable, straightforward, and geared toward a largely self-sufficient way of life. The program called for a main residence, a poolhouse, and a barn, along with independent energy systems and dedicated areas for growing food.
After several iterations, the primary house ultimately landed at 10,000 square feet, with five bedrooms and seven bathrooms. Yet inside, the ambition was anything but grand. The clients were “definitely on ‘Team Simplicity,’” Helgerson says, favoring a “less is more” approach. “It’s a big, sturdy, simple house without a lot of trickery—it’s fairly analog,” she adds.
Of course, that kind of simplicity often requires a surprising amount of intention—and legwork. To give the pared-back interiors warmth and depth, Helgerson and the clients took a two-week trip to France, during which they sourced “something like 60% of the furniture for the house,” Helgerson says with a laugh. The journey began in Paris at the major flea markets, with stops in Marseille and L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue, a Provençal town that Helgerson describes as “an antique village—pretty much everyone there is in the antique world.”
The French pieces brought in a needed sense of texture and history, softening what could have been an overly austere new build. Throughout the house, Helgerson layered antiques with contemporary pieces that read quietly timeless—like a dining table by California craftsman Jacob May that could easily pass for a found object from a European flea market—so the interiors would feel collected rather than staged.
That lived-in sensibility extends to the home’s more personal moments. In the entryway, a portrait of the client’s grandmother hangs above a centuries-old butcher-block table, setting a tone that privileges memory alongside materiality. Elsewhere, design decisions shaped the architecture itself: In the game room, Helgerson’s early call for a reverse board-and-batten treatment ultimately dictated how the beams were laid out, a reminder that the house’s “simple” look was the result of carefully considered choices.
Outside, Doulis focused on cladding and finishes tied to the elements. “A few materials for the outside seemed self-evident,” the architect says, pointing to the shingle roof, copper detailing, wood cladding, and stone bases—choices meant to weather gracefully and blend in with the surrounding forest.
The long arc of the project makes a quiet case for patience. “We tried to create something that would be outside of a quick trend,” Doulis says, “that was representative of the Pacific Northwest, and that would still feel relevant in 10 or 50 years.” Built with the long view in mind, the house rewards the wait.
