Bluebird Avenue House
The part of this one I keep coming back to is the trust. Brynn called, the first time we’d worked together, and said she had a house coming up. She’d seen our Waring Residence film, loved the tone of it, and thought her listing had that same feeling. She wanted something tasteful. That was the brief, and that was all of it.
When I arrived, she met me at the house, we talked for a little while, and then she left me alone with it and trusted the process.
The Bird Streets sit above the Sunset Strip, and what the hill sells now is the view. Price tracks how much of it you get. This house isn’t really about that. There’s a view from the primary bedroom, and it’s a good one, but it was never the argument.
I toured it before I shot anything. A 1958 build, reworked by Khalesi Design. Oak and black steel, arched built-ins around the fireplace, a waterfall stone island, an open-tread stair letting light fall down the middle of the plan.
Then the backyard: wide, close to flat, a pool down the middle, planting deep enough at the edges that you can’t hear the city at all. The Sunset Strip is three or four minutes down the road. You’d never know it.
The direction decided itself on that walk. This one would be about design, material, texture, detail, color and sound rather than views. Hold the frames long enough that you register a room instead of being pulled through it. Get in close: a branch against plaster, water running into the tub, the giant leaves of the birds of paradise outside the bathroom window, and peek-a-boo glimpses of the city.
And carry the nature sound all the way through — the backyard and the pool — so the film hands you what the house hands you when you’re standing in it.
That’s what a house like this is actually selling. Not square footage. Not a skyline.