Mid-Century Split-Level Home Restored by Mamout in Belgium

Why Split-Levels Deserve a Second Look (and Maybe a Second Chance)

A split-level home isn’t “two stories” in the neat, stacked-cake way. It’s more like a thoughtful layer cake where the floors are staggered and connected by
short flights of stairs. That staggered layout was hugely popular in mid-century suburbs because it squeezed more usable space onto smaller lotsespecially
on uneven terrainwhile keeping the footprint compact. It also created a sense of separation without fully shutting rooms away. In other words, you could
have togetherness and a place to escape when someone starts practicing the saxophone (hypothetically… or historically accurate, as you’ll see).

Common split-level traits you can spot from the sidewalk

• Asymmetrical silhouette (because the floors don’t line up like soldiers)
• Low-pitched rooflines and minimal exterior ornament
• Mixed materialsthink brick, wood, stone, and plenty of glass
• Attached or integrated garage (often tucked into a slope)
• Big windows and sliding doors, aiming for light and indoor-outdoor flow

The irony is that what makes split-levels clever can also make them frustrating. Poorly handled updates can leave them feeling chopped up: a landing here, a
half-wall there, a “mystery step” that exists solely to catch your toes at night. The fix isn’t to pretend the house is something it’s not. The fix is to
embrace the split-level logicthen improve the transitions so the home feels intentional, calm, and easy to move through.

The Belgium Restoration: What Mamout Actually Changed (and Why It Works)

The Hoeilaart house was designed by architect Y. Loze and built in 1962. Over time, it accumulated what Mamout described as “parasitic elements”: cheap
verandas, added walls and separations, and other interventions that obscured the original simplicity. The new ownersboth creative professionals with two
kidswanted the home’s mid-century clarity back, but they also needed a second bedroom. The crucial decision: no extension. Instead of
ballooning the footprint, Mamout looked for underused volume already on site.

Move #1: Turn the underused garage into real living space

The original underground garagenestled into the hillbecame a shared children’s bedroom. That choice does two smart things at once: it protects the
home’s exterior proportions (so it still reads as a restrained mid-century form) and it uses the slope like the asset it always was. The garage roof was
then transformed into a patio garden that connects back to the main levelso the “lower” space isn’t banished to the basement underworld. It’s part of a
bigger indoor-outdoor loop.

Move #2: Redesign circulation with a “stair tunnel” (aka: make the stairs make sense)

Split-levels live or die by circulation. Mamout introduced a new “stair tunnel” that links the levelsdown to the former garagecreating a clear vertical
spine. If you’ve ever lived in a split-level where the stairs feel like they were added after a coin toss, you’ll appreciate how transformational this is.
The home becomes legible. You understand where you are, where you’re going, and why the floor changes when it does.

Move #3: Bring back light, air, and that mid-century “exhale”

One reason mid-century homes still feel modern is their relationship with nature: big glazing, long views, and easy access to outdoor rooms. In this home, a
wall of glass in the main living/dining area helps the interior feel airy despite its modest size. Sliding glass doors open to a “naturalist punk” gardenan
intentionally wild, low-tech planting concept that treats biodiversity like a design feature, not an accident. It’s a reminder that mid-century “minimalism”
doesn’t have to mean sterile; it can mean focused.

The Material Palette: Mid-Century Calm Without the Museum Vibes

Great restorations don’t cosplay as a specific year. They honor the spirit of the era while admitting that people in 2025 own more than two forks and a
transistor radio. Mamout’s choices strike that balance with materials that feel straightforward, durable, and honest.

Stainless steel, linoleum, and plywoodwhy these “simple” materials are secretly sophisticated

In the kitchen, stainless steel cabinets fabricated locally give the space a crisp, utilitarian edgeclean, reflective, and unapologetically practical.
Linoleum flooring keeps the vibe grounded and soft underfoot, and it nods to the era’s affection for resilient, everyday materials. In the children’s room,
a plywood structure organizes the beds and helps the space adapt as the kids growfuture-proofing without turning the room into a transformer.

The overarching idea is consistent with what many midcentury renovations do best: preserve simple forms, highlight natural materials, and use modern
fabrication to improve function. Done right, the result doesn’t feel like “new vs. old.” It feels like the house finally matches itself again.

Indoor-Outdoor Living: The “Conversation” Mid-Century Homes Were Built For

Mid-century modern design is famous for pulling the outdoors into everyday lifethrough large glazing, open interiors, and views that make a backyard feel
like a living room extension. Mamout’s restoration leans into that tradition with the glass wall, sliding doors, and the roof garden that turns an awkward
elevation change into a destination.

Steal this idea: make your “in-between” spaces do real work

Split-level homes often have transitional zoneslandings, short hallways, stair cornersthat can feel wasted. Instead, treat them as micro-rooms:

• Light magnets: borrow light with interior windows, glass doors, or open railings
• Pause points: add a bench, a shelf, or art that makes the route feel intentional
• View frames: align openings so you see outdoors from multiple levels

When transitions are designed (not tolerated), split-levels stop feeling like a maze and start feeling like a sequencealmost cinematic. You move through
the house the way you’d move through a well-edited story: one clear moment after another.

Comfort Upgrades That Don’t Wreck the Architecture

A restoration can be visually perfect and still feel lousy to live in if it’s drafty, inefficient, or noisy. The trick is to upgrade performance without
bulldozing the home’s character. Start with the least glamorous stepsbecause they usually have the biggest payoff.

Step 1: Air sealing (the quiet hero of “why is it always cold here?”)

Before you chase fancy systems, control air leakage. Sealing gaps around windows, doors, and penetrations (plumbing, wiring, ducting) can reduce drafts,
improve comfort, and help manage moisture. Think of it as giving your house a decent jacket instead of asking it to survive winter in a mesh tank top.

Step 2: Insulation with a plan, not a guess

In older homes, insulation can be inconsistentgreat in one area and nonexistent in another. A practical approach is to inspect the attic, walls, and floors
next to unheated spaces (like garages). Evaluate what’s there, identify gaps, then upgrade strategically so you don’t create new moisture problems. If you’re
doing major work anyway, it’s often the best time to improve the building envelope because the “messy access” is already happening.

Step 3: Keep the glass, improve the performance

Mid-century homes love big windows, but original glazing can be energy-hungry. Depending on what you have, solutions might include restoring existing frames,
improving seals, adding storm solutions, or upgrading to efficient glazing that maintains the original proportions. The goal is to keep the architecture’s
lightnessthose slim sightlines and generous viewswhile making the house more comfortable day to day.

Safety Notes for Mid-Century Renovations (Especially for U.S. Homes)

Mid-century houses are old enough to come with surprises. In the U.S., anything built before 1978 may involve lead-based paint, and renovation work can
create hazardous dust if it’s handled incorrectly. That doesn’t mean “panic.” It means “plan.” Use lead-safe practices, isolate work zones, and hire
certified professionals when neededespecially if children are in the home or visit regularly.

Even if your project is outside the U.S., the principle holds: older materials deserve respect. Test before demolition, treat unknowns as potential risks,
and don’t turn your renovation into an accidental science experiment.

What This Mamout Restoration Teaches Every Split-Level Owner

1) Subtract first

If a house feels “off,” it’s often because too many add-ons are competing for attention. Removing awkward partitions, cheap enclosures, and visual clutter can
bring back the original calmwithout adding a single square foot.

2) Fix the spine

In split-levels, circulation is architecture. A clear, well-lit route between levels (like Mamout’s stair tunnel concept) does more for livability than a
trendy backsplash ever will.

3) Make every level feel connected to daylight and outdoors

The most successful split-level updates reduce the “basement vibe” by connecting lower levels to exterior patios, gardens, or larger windows. Light, views,
and easy outdoor access turn the staggered plan into a featurenot a flaw.

4) Choose materials that age well, not just materials that photograph well

Stainless steel, linoleum, and plywood aren’t flashy. That’s the point. They’re honest, durable, and compatible with mid-century restraint. When the
materials are calm, the spacesand the life inside themcan be the focus.

Conclusion: A Split-Level Can Be a Love Story (Yes, Even With All Those Stairs)

Mamout’s Belgium restoration proves something split-level owners have suspected all along: the problem isn’t the split-level. The problem is what happens
when a good mid-century plan gets buried under decades of awkward “updates.” By stripping away the junk, clarifying circulation, reactivating underused
space (hello, former garage), and rebuilding the indoor-outdoor relationship that modernism thrives on, the home becomes what it always wanted to be:
simple, bright, flexible, and quietly bold.

If you live in a split-level, take heart. Your house isn’t doomed. It’s just waiting for someone to stop fighting its logic and start refining it. And if you
don’t live in a split-level, you can still borrow the bigger lesson: the best restorations aren’t loud. They’re precise. They make the original idea feel
obvious againlike it was there the whole time, just waiting under the “parasitic” stuff.

Experience Addendum (Extra ): What It Feels Like to Live in a Restored Mid-Century Split-Level

Imagine you arrive on a quiet street and only the upper portion of the house is visibleclassic split-level understatement. There’s a certain mid-century
confidence in that restraint, like the home doesn’t need to shout because it already knows it has good bones. You step inside and immediately notice the
shift in atmosphere: the entry is compact, but it doesn’t feel cramped. It feels curatedlike every inch has a job and none of it is doing the job of
apologizing.

Then the house starts doing what split-levels do best: revealing itself in chapters. A few steps and you’re in the main living/dining area, where glass
pulls the outdoors right up to the furniture. You don’t just see a garden; you feel like the room is borrowing calm from it. Daylight moves across surfaces
in a way that makes you understand why mid-century designers obsessed over windows. The space feels airy not because it’s enormous, but because it has
somewhere to looklong views, open edges, no visual static.

The stairsusually the punchlinebecome part of the pleasure when they’re designed with intention. Instead of “Where does this go?” you get “Of course this
goes here.” A clear vertical route makes the home feel friendly. You can picture a kid thundering down to grab a forgotten backpack, then cutting back up
without turning the trip into an obstacle course. Movement becomes natural, almost rhythmicup a half-flight, pause, turn, down another half-flight, arrive.
The levels create privacy without requiring heavy doors or long corridors. Someone can read upstairs while someone else cooks, and neither person has to feel
like they’re living in the other’s pocket.

What surprises you most is how the “lower” spaces don’t feel punished. In many split-levels, the bottom level can feel like the house’s backstage area: dark,
damp, and full of mystery cables. In a thoughtful restoration, that level gets dignity. A former garage becoming a kids’ bedroom is a perfect example: it
turns a utilitarian zone into a real room with light, purpose, and adaptability. And because outdoor space is woven into the planlike a patio or roof garden
nearbybeing on the lower level doesn’t mean being far from fresh air.

The material choices shape the experience, too. Stainless steel reads as clean and capable (you don’t worry about it), linoleum is forgiving under busy feet,
and plywood feels warm in a straightforward, no-drama way. This is the quiet luxury of mid-century thinking: you don’t need ornate trim when the proportions
are right and the light is generous. At night, the home turns into a lanternglow inside, dark garden outsideand you get that cozy modernist mood that feels
both nostalgic and completely current. The best part? You realize the house isn’t performing “mid-century.” It’s simply living as itself again.