Inside A’s Restored Home. Quincy Jones in Brentwood, California

Some cities are quick to announce themselves. Some ask you to slow down. Tucked away behind gates and greenery in Brentwood, Benmore Terrace is the latest. You don’t just arrive at this house as you walk through it—past a sequence of places, light, and quiet purpose—until the architecture reveals itself. Designed in 1960 by A. Quincy Jones and Frederick Emmons, the home feels less like a moment preserved in time and more like an ongoing conversation between architecture and nature.

Commissioned by developer Sarah Jane Lapin, Benmore Terrace was designed to reward movement rather than spectacle. Sitting on almost an acre, the house rearranges the traditional views of the front and back, leading you inside through expansive glass, hill views, and a waterfall that feels like an integral part of the home rather than an added feature. Light and openness choreograph daily life here, blurring the boundary between indoors and outdoors in a way that still feels modern.

When investor and real estate agent Claire O’Connor came across this property, she wasn’t looking for a project—she was responding to a feeling. “Benmore wasn’t a house I was going to hunt,” she says. “It was a house I fell into, and it revealed itself differently over time.” Even after years of renovations that had dulled its voice, the home’s original DNA—the curb appeal, the clarity, the way it allowed nature to be on display—remained intact. Rather than rethinking the house from scratch, Claire saw an opportunity to become a manager.

Why Saving is Important

What ultimately set Benmore Terrace apart was not just its setting, but the fact that its architectural intent was still legible. The home has a clear vision of how modern life in Los Angeles can feel—open, grounded, and deeply connected to nature.

“Knowing that it was the house of Jones and Emmons that Sarah Jane Lapin was commissioned for came with a sense of responsibility,” explained Claire. “You’re not just updating a place. You’re carrying a vision of what modern life would feel like in Los Angeles.” While the bones of the home remained strong, the renovation of the 1990s had hidden that clarity, the placement of edges that silenced the architectural voice.

Working with Jesse Rudolph and Joelle Kutner of Ome Dezin, restoration began with extraction. Dated elements were removed so that the original touches of the home—light, proportion, and flow—were readable as well. The aim was not nostalgia, but interpretation: to restore the purpose of architecture while raising the function of contemporary life.

Designing with Nature

At Benmore Terrace, nature was not treated as an accessory. Continuous expansive windows incorporate hillside greenery, allowing light to filter into the home throughout the day, while the presence of a waterfall anchors everyday life.

That philosophy guided the insiders. Ome Dezin worked within a neutral palette designed for relaxation, warming the space with natural woods and accenting it with stone—especially travertine in the kitchen and bathrooms. These things do not compete for attention; they create calmness. Claire says: “Nature was not considered decorative. “It was taken as a participant.” The result is a home that feels deeply attuned to its setting, where the interior acts as a backdrop to what unfolds beyond the glass.

Planning with Purpose

Deciding what to keep required both respect and restraint. The home’s consistent glass, skylights, and grandiose moments—central to its identity—were nonnegotiable. Where new elements were introduced, they were considered adaptations rather than reinventions.

Custom details throughout the home were designed to respond to its scale and rhythm: built-ins, mirrors, and a powder room door designed to feel seamlessly integrated. In the restaurant, the custom table and chairs designed by Claire’s friend Ben Willet fit so naturally within the building that they feel inevitable. Claire notes: “In a house like this, the value is not just about the finish. It’s about protecting the architectural story.”

Letting Home Find Its People

In a market driven by broad appeal, Claire resists the idea of ​​designing for everyone. He says: “The home is not everyone’s. “Whose home is it.” Interestingly, Benmore Terrace has challenged theories about who that might be. While the team initially envisioned a prime buyer, the home ultimately found a small family.

That result reinforced the main belief: when the home stays true to itself, it creates a space to be part of the truth. Benmore Terrace does not try to accommodate everyone. It offers something unusual: a sense of arrival.

Conservation as a Responsibility

After losing her house in the Palisades fire, Claire’s relationship with conservation becomes deeply personal. “Losing a house changes the way you understand what a house really is,” he recalls. Much of it is memory, routine, and refuge—not just materials or square footage.”

In a city where erasure happens quickly, stewardship takes on a new urgency. Preserving a home like Benmore Terrace isn’t about freezing it in time—it’s about honoring the ideas embedded in it, and making sure it endures. In choosing to preserve rather than reinvent, Claire has allowed this one home to continue its conversation—about nature, history, and the people who now call it home.

The Takeaway

Benmore Terrace is a reminder that clarity doesn’t come from adding more—it comes from paying more attention. When a home stays true to its design, setting, and history, it creates space for something deeper than design trends or market appeal. Preservation, at its best, is an act of care: the place, the memory, and the lives that happen within it. In choosing restraint over regeneration, Benmore Terrace shows that respecting what already exists can be a sustainable way of modern living.