The careful, characterful restoration of an 18th-century house on Patmos
The homes of wealthy merchants in the town of Chora on the Greek island of Patmos always faced the port of Skala, so they could see their ships coming in. The lime-washed houses of the village, now a Unesco World Heritage site, are scattered across one of the highest points on the island, their pale seafoam-blue doors and shutters kept strictly the same colour to confuse marauding pirates. The roofs - almost cubist from a distance - were built cheek by jowl to form a path for residents to escape to the safety of the 11th-century monastery of Saint John the Theologian above. Below is the sea and the cave where the monastery's namesake, the exiled John the Apostle, wrote the Book of Revelation. On a clear day, the coast of southern Turkey looms in the distance.
The smallest of the 12 islands known as the Dodecanese, situated a two and a half hour boat ride from the island of Kos, Patmos is, even today, not a terribly easy place to get to. Yet for millennia, it has exerted a kind of magnetism. Variously ruled by the Byzantines, the Venetians and the Turks before Greek independence in 1948, it historically had a population that was made up of monastic and secular classes - the latter of whom predominantly worked in shipping and trade. It was a fluid culture, with an unusual amount of movement. This meant that Chora town had a vibrant and cosmopolitan scene in the 18th century, when this house was built. Wealthy Patmian women dressed in the latest fashions brought over from Paris and their houses were sophisticated and eclectic, filled with treasures from all over the world.
The house owned by designer Melina Blaxland-Horne's family in the centre of the town is a case in point. Influenced by Venetian architecture, the original section of the building was constructed for the family in 1770. 'My great-great-grandfather, a merchant ship owner who became the mayor of the island, added to it and gave it its final appearance in 1862,' she explains.
The house eventually ended up in the hands of Melina's paternal grandmother, who moved to Athens when she got married at the age of 21. From 1935, it remained largely uninhabited by the family. During the Second World War, the island was occupied first by the Germans, who turned the house into Gestapo headquarters, and then by the Italians, who used it as a consulate. "They forgot to shut the door on their way out,' says Melina, laughing. 'The house was looted and eventually locked up. It stayed pretty much untouched until it was passed down to our family. By then, roughly 66 years had gone by since someone had truly lived in it and, during that time, the elements had severely damaged it.'
Melina, the founder and designer of London-based textile and home accessories company Melodi Horne, and her husband Dimitri continued the legacy by lovingly restoring the house to its former glory. 'The first time I showed my husband the property it was a cold, rainy winter day, which definitely added to the feeling of desolation,' she recalls. "The ceilings had fallen down, floors had disappeared and the ones that were left were so badly damaged that your foot would go straight through them.
So began a process of meticulous restoration that was to take the best part of a decade. The couple set about the task like archaeologists, salvaging and cataloguing every single item in the house that could be reused, from fragments of cornicing to bits of mirror frame, delicately unearthing the spirit of the house and its former occupants from the ruins. They rescued hand-painted doors with amber resin knobs and huge marble slabs from the tops of Venetian console tables, which were about to fall to their doom through the weakened floor of the upstairs drawing room.
In one bedroom, they saved a huge four-poster bed from the Napoleonic era. When they cleaned its paintwork, they discovered beautiful hand-painted flowers and Melina's great-grandfather's initials. In another bedroom was an extraordinary hand-painted framed wooden set of shelves, traditionally used to display icons in the room in which women gave birth. 'All the houses on Patmos would have had a domestic iconostasis like this, probably because it's a holy island,' explains Melina. Some were ornately decorated while others were in plain wood.' There were Venetian mirrors and marriage chests and a badly damaged 19th-century Isaac Newton grandfather clock from England. At the bottom of the well in the corner of the kitchen, there was a plethora of broken jugs used to extract water, which Melina now has on display.
‘’This was before we had even spoken to a builder,' says Melina. 'We were writing labels to ensure everything would be returned to its original position during the restoration process, not knowing whether we could pull it off or not. But we tried to save absolutely everything. It's been restored from scratch but with all the old pieces. Anything we could find we kept and put back into place.'
The work was carried out by local builders and craftsmen, the older of whom could still remember Melina's grandparents: "The house has always been a big part of the community, so it was wonderful to see everyone rallying to bring it back to life again. The builders' first instinct was that it would be easier to throw everything out and start again, but we were insistent that everything needed to be reused. If a hinge had worked perfectly well for 100 years, I was sure I could get another 100 out of it.' Some parts were, however, beyond salvation, which Melina describes as both lucky and unlucky. In the upstairs drawing room, the marquetry floor was impossible to restore, but replacing it offered a welcome opportunity to update the wiring and the plumbing; and to add concealed air conditioning for the increasingly hot summers.
The house as you see it now was finished around 15 years ago. Melina and Dimitri, who is English/Greek and whose background is in property restoration and development, took into account the fact that the house was most recently renovated in the Victorian era and tried to preserve this sensibility. 'Although electricity didn't reach Patmos until the 1970s, we ordered bespoke light switches and bathroom fittings in keeping with the style of the mid-1800s, when it was last given decorative attention,' explains Melina. ‘The remnants of the existing colour schemes and the inherited furniture provided us with guidance on the style to follow. Maintaining the essence of the house was crucial to me.’ Scattered among the heirlooms are pieces designed by Melina. Her ikat lampshades and cushions, available from Melodi Horne, can be seen in almost every room, bringing zing to the interiors. The kitchen was the last room they finished. Not wanting to tamper with the original stone ovens and ancient well, they turned the adjacent pantry into a working kitchen. An antique refectory table is now the focal point of the old kitchen, the walls of which are decorated with Melina's ever-expanding collection of vintage blue and white plates.
The 1950s plates that were the genesis of the display were given to Melina by a childhood friend of her late father when she inherited the house. "They have scenes of Patmos on them and at first I thought, what on earth am I going to do with these? They're so touristy. Then somehow they became the centre of this huge collection,' she says. ‘Every time I visit and live around the things we rescued - pieces chosen by my relatives - I feel these people had such heart and a sense of fun. I imagine them being incredibly creative judging by their great eye for colour. I wanted to preserve a feeling of continuity and communion with them, rather than sever ties with the past’.
Davide Lovatti1/7Woodwork in Farrow & Ball's 'Yeabridge Green' tones with 17th-century church panels found at a London reclamation yard. Inherited elements are complemented by an ikat lampshade from Melodi Horne.
Davide Lovatti2/7An ornate console table and mirror - both inherited pieces - are the setting for a display of 19th-century imari plates and ornaments in the sitting room. The French needlepoint rug and cushions and an ikat lampshade, in fabrics sourced by Melina for Melodi Horne, pick up on the set of maritime paintings on the wall. A restored marriage chest is used as a coffee table. Painted in alternating stripes of Farrow & Ball's Skylight and a darker blue, created to match the original colour of the room, the ceiling showcases an heirloom lantern
Davide Lovatti3/7A cupboard in custom blue paint is flanked by 19th-century imari plates and paintings belonging to Dimitri's father.
Davide Lovatti4/7In the main bedroom, framed 19th-century gravures belonging to the house are combined with antique furniture.
Davide Lovatti5/7Melodi Horne cushions and lampshades add a bold contemporary accent to the iron bed in this room, also thought to be from the Napoleonic period, bearing floral designs and the initials of Melina's great-grandfather.
Davide Lovatti6/7In the daughter's bedroom, cushions in a William Morris print brighten the daybed below the original iconostasis
Davide Lovatti7/7A hand-painted screen from Lots Road Auctions and a John Derian plaster foot create an eclectic look.
