In a design industry that still embraces the allure of absence—white walls, light woods, and a careful choreography of restraint—this small Silver Lake bungalow offers a soft but purposeful counterpoint. Here, creativity does not recede into the background. It accumulates, collides, and settles into a deeply personal manifesto and eclectic haven shaped by instinct.
Perched on one of Silver Lake’s historic stairwells, the 1,000-square-foot 1940 bungalow is in quiet dialogue with its surroundings—an East Los Angeles neighborhood long synonymous with artistic production and architectural experimentation. Within walking distance of landmarks such as the Neutra VDL House and Silvertop, the house occupies a cultural terrain where modernism once suggested a new way of life. But instead of imitating this lineage, New Operations Laboratory—led by founder Gabriel Yuri—leans into a different kind of legacy: one rooted in material accumulation, memory, and contrast.
The renovation, completed over the course of a year, was less about transformation than calibration. The challenge, Yuri explains, was to modernize the house while retaining its modest 1940s charm. The original structure remains largely intact: a one-level, two-bedroom layout anchored by a front porch that runs the length of the house. But inside, the work unfolds as a multi-layered interior landscape, where the objects carry the narrative weight more than the architecture.
At first glance, the space seems to align with the modern preference for neutrality. The walls are painted white, the floors finished in white oak. But this is not minimalism in the strict sense – it is a setting designed to enhance the presence of things. And things, here, are plentiful.
An upcycled vintage Marenco sofa in burnt orange velvet anchors the living room, its saturated tone firmly pressing against the quietness of the envelope. Chrome surfaces – lamps, planters and furniture – run through the house, drawing light and connecting disparate rooms with a reflective continuity. Black leather, plywood, matte black hardware––each material registers as a separate voice rather than part of a unified palette.
This approach draws heavily from 1970s Italian design, a period when interiors embraced contradiction – softness against steel, gloss against texture, austerity against play. But Yuri’s references don’t end in nostalgia. Instead, they are paired with a wider cast: lighting by Eileen Gray and Charlotte Perriand, an Isamu Noguchi lamp, a Poul Kjærholm PK22 armchair. These regular pieces coexist with friends’ artwork and emerging voices, dissolving the hierarchy between collectible design and personal artefact.
If living spaces function as a kind of curated living room, the kitchen and bathroom take on a more nuanced role where maintenance and intervention meet. In the kitchen, all-white cabinetry nods to the home’s original state, resisting the current appetite for high-contrast millwork. The material, however, changes the tone: blackened wood and matte black fixtures introduce a subtle tension.
The bathroom tells a clearer story of recovery. After what Yuri describes as an “awful” renovation in the 1990s, the space was stripped back to its most essential salvaged element: a wall of glass panels. Rather than replace it, the design builds around it by combining white tiles, chrome fixtures and plywood with an unexpected detail: a latex basin skirt that introduces a touch of humor, even irreverence.
This gesture—playful, slightly odd—is emblematic of the work as a whole. Where many interiors strive for cohesion, this one embraces friction. Where minimalism often distills life to its essentials, this bungalow allows for excess — not in quantity, but in expression.
However, the house never ends in chaos. Its success lies in a careful balancing act: between relaxation and refinement, between historical sensibility and contemporary instinct. As Yuri describes it, the aim was to create a space where “the history and environment of the house could breathe while at the same time reflecting a love of design”.
In this sense, the project reframes the debate around what a “creative” interior can be. Not a blank canvas waiting to be filled, not a fully resolved composition, but something more dynamic — a living record of influences, relationships, and moments in time.
To see more work from the studio, visit newoperationsworkshop.com.
Photo courtesy of Graham Dunn, Clarke Tolton and Gabriel Yuri.
