Text and photo: Marianne Vigtel Hølland

In 2009, we bought a small, rather old, wooden cabin in the mountains. It had no water, winter access road or room for guests.

After some years of simple living in the cabin, civilisation caught up with us and we got both a winter access road and an offer to put in water. Then it was a natural step to renovate and extend the cabin.

The project was planned, designed and built according to slow design principles. There was no question of pulling down the old wooden cabin, and losing its soul, even though that would have simplified the building process. On the contrary, we were determined to look after the quirky old wooden building and wanted the new extension to represent a visual break, with a tighter, more modern expression, without detracting from the natural charm of the old wooden cabin.

It was a bit of a balancing act and one of the strategies we used to bind the two cabin structures together visually was to use recycled materials. For example, almost all of the furniture was built on the spot with materials that were more than a hundred years old.

Externally, we clad the cabin in ore-pine treated with iron vitriol, which soon gave the cabin a greying and weather-beaten appearance. We built a large sliding door to close a panorama window constructed from an ancient panel from a nearby barn that was to be demolished anyway. These elements contributed to giving the cabin the sense of belonging that we wanted.

We nonetheless felt that the cabin seemed to ‘hover’ a little on the ground, as if it needed more reinforcement. The cabin is built on a slope and had quite high foundations at the front.

We tested different types of facing stone in an attempt to give the cabin the weight it needed, but nothing seemed to work.

Then we fell over a sales ad with old slate roofing tiles and it all fell into place – a dark, almost black slate with a beautiful sheen, which, when exposed to wind and weather, attains a rust-red quality.

There is a long tradition for using slate. Slate roofs have been laid since the 1400s and if you drive through the Gudbrandsdalen valley on the E6 you can’t avoid seeing all the beautiful historical farm buildings with their characteristic slate roofs.

It was wonderful to get inspiration from this proud tradition! We drove to Lillehammer, filled the trailer and bought mortar and bricklaying tools at the same time.

That autumn, we rolled up our sleeves and after many long weekends, the foundation wall was covered with the most beautiful slate tiles, full of lives lived, moss and that warm appearance. That was the icing on the cake for us.

The thickest slabs were used as paving stones around the cabin and on the steps up to the entrance. And with that, the extension became one with the landscape and we felt that the two different buildings looked good together.

It feels good to know that we were able to contribute to preserving good materials that would otherwise have gone to waste. We also made a good environmental choice by limiting consumption and our environmental footprint without compromising on the end result. And we got our homogeneous new cabin, with lovely rustic details that really stand out.

Sometimes (quite often as far as I’m concerned), the old, recycled materials give that extra aesthetic lift. It’s not difficult; it just takes a little bit longer.