Who can love an odd dome home that's been ridiculed as a perfect shelter for a Smurf, hobbit or Yoda? A bargain hunter?
The 1.4-acre wooded property at 1850 Carriage Way in West Linn was on the market for $775,900 in 2016. But then it was being sold through bankruptcy court at $450,000. That's a 42 percent, or $325,900, cut.
On March 19, the price fell again to $400,000.
Always quirky, the well-known dwelling once still had its charm. But in bankruptcy, it has withered into a forlorn state. It's crushing to compare photographs from 2015 to today (see gallery above).
Perhaps it would attract an artist, suggests Lynnette May of Knipe Realty NW, Inc, who represents the bankruptcy court in the sale.
Even in its glory days, the planetarium-shaped house built by a mime in 1978 out of WWII aircraft carrier parts and other salvaged materials could best be enjoyed by people who appreciate theatrical curves and the unconventional.
Nine domes are linked together by flat roofs, 3 1/2-inch iron ribs and a turtle shell-like foam covering.
Passersby call it the Smurf Home. Hobbit House. Mushroom Abode. Flintstone Shelter. Dome Home. Yoda's Place. Something out of a "Star Wars" movie. Or worse, said former owner Peter Einstein, who lived in the eye-catching dwelling during its halcyon days.
He heard the nine mounds nestled in the ground referred to as dinosaur poop.
But how did it feel to live underneath those cave-like, concave structures?
"We loved it and it made us happy," said Einstein, a software consultant and independent contractor who lived here for 15 years. He sold the property in April 2015 for $330,000, about what he paid for it, to a buyer who promised not to tear it down.
"In the swoopy living room, we'd play with laser pointers against the 18-foot-high ceiling," he said in an interview with The Oregonian/OregonLive last year. "I remember lying on the couch and feeling wonderful in that enormous space."
When the maintenance of 19 leaky skylights and an exterior that often needed to be patched with polyurethane got too much for him, Einstein packed up and moved to Portland. "Over the years I had to solve a lot of problems myself or with creative contractors," he said when reached Monday.
Still, he misses the idyllic setting on a creek, and windows and sliding glass doors that frame views of Douglas fir trees. He laments that he doesn't still have beautiful hardwood kitchen counters, or blueberries and grape vines growing wild outside. He even longs for nights when heavy rainfall would beat down on the uninsulated roof and sound like Brazilian rainsticks.
Einstein bought the house in 2001 from the widow of the original owner, Francisco Reynders, an artist, musician, actor, mime, designer and founder of the Oregon Mime Theatre.
Born in Holland in 1929 or 1930, Reynders learned to mime with Marcel Marceau in Paris, France. He then worked in New York as a theater set and costume designer, and an art director for commercials.
In 1967, he accepted a position as assistant professor of theater at Lewis & Clark College and worked for the Portland Opera and what is now the Oregon Ballet Theater.
In the mid-1970s, while at the Zidell Explorations salvage yard on the Willamette River, Reynders found discarded gun turret shrouds pulled from the USS Bunker Hill, a WWII Essex-class aircraft carrier.
With these, he could build a home that would look like an extension of the hilltop. The dome forms also granted him an alternative to living in a traditional rectangle house. He never liked sharp right angles and distrusted corners, according to friend, Lake Oswego-based realtor Valarie Ross, who visited the house while it was being erected.
When building inspectors couldn't picture the bubble-like shapes on the blueprint, Reynders created small-scale models of his envisioned dome home.
In real life, the 30-foot-wide hemispherical living room and mega master bedroom occupy most of the 2,400 square feet of living space. The shrouds were used for two smaller bedrooms, waterbed nooks and bathrooms. Holes needed for the aircraft carrier's 55mm cannons serve as skylights in the bathroom.
He called his house "organically sensuous" and painted satyrs above the giant sauna off the 625-square-foot master bedroom.
There are secret passageways and other dramatic surprises such as ceilings and arches painted blue to mimic the sky. He liked to point out that the curve of the dome makes the top kitchen cabinets more narrow than bottom ones.
To cut costs and avoid the right angles of drywall, Reynders had shredded editions of The Oregonian newspaper treated with a fire-retardant chemical and mixed with adhesive. This spongy material was then blown onto the walls and makes it so "you can literally bounce off the walls," recalled Einstein.
After Reynders died in 1996, his widow sold the house through Ross to Einstein, who sold it to the third owner.
Einstein declined offers from developers who wanted to tear down the house and put up more dwellings on the 1.4-acre lot. He's hopeful a new owner feels the same way, but he recognizes it's not easy to find a buyer.
"The house itself appeals to a very small market," he said in 2017.
When reached Monday and told the property was in bankruptcy court, Einstein said: "The house requires stewardship, not a cynical flipper attitude."
He added: "I love to talk about the dome house. [It represents] 15 very important years in the life of my family."
-- Janet Eastman
jeastman@oregonian.com
503-799-8739
@janeteastman