The 3,500-square-foot house is wide, like all the newer homes in the district, and, at two storeys, no higher than they are. The garage has been dropped under the house, which boosts the level of entry by about six feet—another common feature in the neighbourhood. And the front of the house is a strong, warm composition of jatoba wood and chocolate stucco that seems to retire slightly from Ledbury, as though not wanting to pick a fight with the more fanciful façades round about. The main entry is at the side of the building, which keeps the front geometry bold, clear and uncluttered. This ruggedly handsome front makes a good case for modernist architectural ideas—their powers to quicken and revive old streetscapes, their sound urbanity—in a suburban setting of long, shady streets.

But the most exciting things about this house—all of them having to do with light—happen behind its sturdy façade. In sharp contrast to many old Toronto homes, which tend to have dark interiors lit by end windows, 132 Ledbury has been designed to capture every available ray of natural light from dawn to dark, and draw it into the heart of the house. The interior areas that the visitor sees first, after coming in through the side entry, are organized around an unroofed atrium that stands at the core of the building—an unusual gesture that works beautifully here. Even on an overcast day, ample light washes down into this central courtyard, and flows through tall glass sliding doors into the adjoining rooms and beyond.

In another bid to incorporate natural light into their architecture, Ms. Reigo and Mr. Bauer have put skylights in four of the five bathrooms, and designed the staircase around an open slot that falls without interruption from the second-floor skylight to the basement floor.

Also, large windows open to the ample backyard, with its ancient pear tree, and fine sunset views over the back gardens beyond.

Also, large windows open to the ample backyard, with its ancient pear tree, and fine sunset views over the back gardens beyond.

These are real windows punched in walls, by the way, not the more usual modernist expanses of floor-to-ceiling glass. This conservative move lends a pleasant sense of enclosure and privacy to the interior spaces. One of the more remarkable features of this house, in fact, is the way it admits so much light while maintaining a very high degree of privacy—not an easy feat in this neighbourhood, where newer houses (including this one) stand chock-a-block beside each other along the sidewalk.

To keep the layout of their structure similar to more traditional houses in the Bathurst and Lawrence area, the designers have lightly defined the uses of rooms with certain conventional markers. One room off the atrium has a fireplace, for instance, designating it as the living room. Another, adjoining the kitchen but clearly separated from it, is long and narrow, suggesting a dining room—and so on. Home-owners who prefer the traditional divvying-up of space into formal categories will find that this house lends itself readily to such a scheme. There are definite places for the library (at the front of the first floor), the nanny's suite and the media room (in the finished basement), and for a family room off the kitchen area.

But little about this house—except, perhaps, its four-bedroom arrangement upstairs—absolutely dictates specific uses in specific areas. The little library, with its balcony running across the front of the building, could conveniently become a home office. Or a large and luxurious office could be set up in the "living room"—which is immediately adjacent to the entry area—and the "dining room" could be turned into a place for entertaining guests. Such architectural flexibility should be welcome these days, when the whole relationship between the home and the workplace is changing, and many professionals are working at home.