Renovating a historic house: what is worth preserving – and what Isn't

Renovating a historic house is rarely something that can be solved by studying drawings in an office. The older the building, the less reliable information we usually have. Original documentation is often incomplete, capturing only one chapter of the building's history. Every generation has added, removed, divided or rebuilt something. And very few left behind an accurate record of what they actually did.

That is why we never rely solely on archive drawings. We try to understand the building itself. How it evolved, how it changed over time and why it looks the way it does today. Only then do we begin to decide what should be preserved, what should change and how the house can support contemporary living.

Historic renovations are not for everyone. They require patience, trust and, from time to time, the courage to change the project just when you feel it has already been finished.


 

How an architect reads a historic building

A perfect example was our renovation of the ÚJEZD Heritage Apartment in Prague. Understanding the apartment itself was not enough. We studied the neighbouring apartments and the entire building to understand how the individual spaces were originally connected. During the process we discovered that the building had been gradually extended over the centuries and at some point connected to one — or perhaps even several — adjacent houses. Suddenly, the unusual split levels and seemingly illogical relationships between rooms started to make sense. Once you understand the history of a building, many things fall into place. That is why renovating a historic house is never just about drawing a new floor plan. Before we design anything new, we first need to understand what was there before. Sometimes the most important part of the project is something we didn't even know existed when we started.

When the building reveals its true character

One of the most rewarding moments in a historic renovation comes when we begin removing layers of plaster and finishes. We never know exactly what we will find underneath. We enjoy exposing original materials — not because it is fashionable, but because they tell the story of the building far better than any new decorative element ever could. They also introduce textures and character that simply cannot be recreated artificially. At ÚJEZD, layers of plaster revealed medieval stone masonry. We carefully cleaned it, repaired damaged sections and allowed it to become a natural part of the interior rather than a decorative feature.

Our approach at the Fortress House – HRADBY project was similar, although each space required a different decision. We left the original brick vault exposed in the entrance hall. On the staircase, we uncovered the stone walls only to a certain height and highlighted them with indirect lighting integrated into the handrail, while the upper section remained plastered. Beneath the timber ceiling, we also chose to reveal later masonry additions instead of trying to hide them behind new plaster. 

The challenge is not simply deciding what to uncover, but also what to leave hidden — and how light can help tell that story. We don't reveal everything. Knowing when to stop is just as important as knowing what to remove.

A historic house must work for modern living

Stone walls, vaulted ceilings and painted timber ceilings are beautiful. But they do not create a great home on their own. Historic houses were built for a completely different way of life. People cooked differently, family life was organised differently, and bathrooms as we know them today often did not exist. Expectations regarding privacy, room sizes and the relationship between spaces were fundamentally different. Like every project we design, we always begin from the inside out. We first ask how people want to live today — and only then do we start shaping the space around that.

ÚJEZD is a good example. The living room faces the courtyard rather than the street. Not because we wanted to be unconventional, but because we were not willing to hide some of the apartment's most beautiful painted ceilings inside a bedroom. Instead, we connected the living space to the street-facing kitchen, while the bedroom was moved to the quieter part of the apartment. Every historic renovation is a careful search for balance — between what the building already offers and what contemporary life demands.

New should be new

One thing we deliberately avoid is turning a historic house into a museum. An old building does not automatically call for antique furniture, a period-style kitchen or an interior pretending that nothing has changed over the last hundred years. In most cases, it feels artificial rather than authentic. We prefer the opposite approach. Let the historic structure remain historic. Let the new interior be unmistakably contemporary. That is why we are perfectly comfortable designing a concrete kitchen inside an Art Nouveau apartment, or placing an antique cabinet into a minimalist interior. The same principle applies to the original vintage armchairs inside the industrial spaces of VANGUARD. More often than not, contrast allows both worlds to stand out even more. The same philosophy applies to the building itself. At ÚJEZD, we needed to reinforce the original timber ceiling. Instead of hiding the intervention behind a fake historical detail, we introduced an exposed steel beam. It makes no attempt to imitate history. It is contemporary, honest and quietly does its job.

We approach technology in exactly the same way. A historic house will never become a low-energy new build — but that does not mean it has to function like a house from a century ago. Underfloor heating, mechanical ventilation with heat recovery, smart home systems and carefully designed lighting can all become natural parts of a historic building.

Our goal is not to create a historical stage set. Our goal is to design a house where it is immediately clear what has survived for centuries — and what has been added today.

Renovating a historic house is a process, not a project.

This is perhaps the greatest difference between a historic renovation and a new build. With a new house, clients often expect that everything can be fully designed in advance and then simply built according to the drawings. Historic buildings rarely work that way. We can prepare a thorough architectural study, resolve the layout, structure and budget. Yet we never know everything before construction begins. Some discoveries only happen once the structure is opened up. And those discoveries often change the project. Sometimes we uncover a construction that deserves to be preserved, even though it was never part of the original design. Sometimes we discover structural problems that require an entirely different solution. That is why renovating a historic house cannot be planned down to the last detail. It is a collaborative process involving the architect, the client and the construction team. It requires regular site visits, continuous decision-making and, occasionally, the courage to change direction.

This is also where artificial intelligence reaches its limits. AI can generate floor plans or produce impressive visualisations. What it cannot do is stand inside a centuries-old building, read the traces left by generations of builders and decide whether a newly uncovered structure is important enough to change the entire project.

Historic renovations are not for everyone. They require patience, trust and, from time to time, the courage to rethink a project you believed was already finished.

Renovating a historic house is not about finding the right answers. It is about asking the right questions throughout the entire process.

What is worth knowing before you start

What to expect

• the project will continue to evolve during construction
• some of the most important decisions will only be made after the structure has been opened up
• regular site visits by the architect are an essential part of the process
• a historic building will almost always surprise you

What we believe works best

• understand the building before designing it
• preserve what genuinely adds value to the house
• celebrate new interventions instead of imitating history
• design the layout for contemporary living
• leave enough flexibility for the project to respond to discoveries made on site

Why it is worth it

• you create a home that cannot simply be replicated
• valuable historic structures and details are preserved for the future
• the building gains a new life instead of another insensitive alteration
• the value of the property increases significantly

for us, true sustainability does not begin with new materials. It begins by preserving remarkable architecture and giving it a meaningful future for the next hundred years.

by Radka - 3. 8. 2026