Words Sophie Sims
Photography Morgan Pollard

For Rosie, it was love at first sight. “I’d been working with a photographer who lived next door. I remember he picked me up in his royal-blue classic car and when we pulled up at Mary Ann Gardens, I had this feeling I hadn’t experienced before. After that initial visit, I rang the landlord every year for three years. In the third year, she finally said, ‘We actually do have someone leaving.’” Fortuity continued: “Later, Jacob moved in and we contacted the landlord to ask if they’d sell. At first, it was a no. A few weeks later, they had changed their mind …”

Before the apartment was transformed, it was a cavernous space, a former manuscript-printing workshop with very few walls. Today, it has more delineation, but a conscious effort to create unbroken lines of sight from end to end has preserved a sense of openness. “We chose to work with the architect Julius Taminiau, who is based in Amsterdam, because we liked the work he’d done for some of our friends,” says Jacob. Having had time to put down roots in the space, the pair had a strong sense of the course they wanted the renovation to take: “Through our 10 years of living here together before doing the works, we’d been able to really finesse what we wanted. We’d learnt so much by just living here.” Rosie agrees: “We really did know where the light falls.”

The pair were particularly drawn to Julius’ material approach: lime plaster envelops the space, concrete worktops provide enough space to cook up a storm, and ingenious oak plywood joinery creates a wealth of storage. “The platform was where a sort of second bedroom used to be,” says Rosie. “We did have quite a lot of guests, but we were also aware that the space wasn’t used all the time. We created this sort of wooden womb instead,” she laughs, “which creates an intimate space that we can close and open up to give us more space to live in.”

Rosie and Jacob found out they were expecting Donny at the start of the project: “Having a baby on the way sped up the process,” Jacob recalls. But it was this immovable deadline that provided the impetus they needed: “Within limits are where you find true creativity, I think,” says Jacob. “Then you can actually get to work.”

Inspiration for their home comes from far and wide. “We had this book on Le Corbusier, where he used small platforms to create a difference in space. I grew up in a bungalow, so I was very used to that,” Rosie states. The couple were also inspired to carve out their indoor-outdoor garden spot by a stay in one of Geoffrey Bawa’s Sri Lankan buildings (though their pebbles were collected from beaches in Devon, near where Rosie grew up and where the pair are hoping to relocate to).

“It’ll be interesting to see how living in the countryside impacts my music,” considers Rosie. “Deptford is a very musical place and I’ve done so much writing here, too, through the years. It’s been my main musical space, I’d say. I’ve had studios on and off, but I think writing is such a vulnerable space that it just works to be at home, where you’re most comfortable.”

There are definite parallels between the way in which Rosie approaches recording and the way in which she and Jacob have designed their life. “For each album, I pick a few pieces of equipment and use them across the board. I find it quite overwhelming otherwise,” she says. A similar compartmentalisation, a consciously considered approach to creativity, is at play in their home: “I wouldn’t say we’re minimalists – I mean, we both love beautiful things, but the fact that we've got all this storage and can put things away, it does help to create space in your head. I think storage is the key to peace!”

“I’ve never lived anywhere for 16 years before,” Rosie reflects. “There is a real community in Deptford that I haven’t felt in other parts of London. It’s also so quiet: we’re a stone’s throw away from Deptford High Street, but the loudest noise inside the flat is birdsong. It’s very bittersweet to leave ... If we could just pick up this place and move it to Devon, we absolutely would.”