At the historic site of the nearly 300-year-old De Jager sawmill in Woudsend, a new building has emerged that continues the story of the place. Surrounded by heritage brick structures, the contemporary timber design makes a bold architectural statement while opening generously to the landscape. Inside, warm materials meet modern design: sustainable solutions, durable finishes, and flooring that is as robust as it is refined. The result is an ensemble that harmoniously bridges past and future. In this interview, Studio Range shares insights into their design process – from material choices to architectural gestures that connect past and present.
How did you approach the design of the new building to create a visual or conceptual connection to the nearly 300-year-old De Jager sawmill?
The 300-year-old industrial complex – one of the oldest in Europe – was built over the course of several decades. It all began with the construction of the sawmill, followed shortly by the first drying barn, the main house for the owner, and eventually, the workers’ houses. The idea of gradually adding buildings to the site was part of its history. Over time, this organic growth led to the collection of structures that, by the late 1970s, became a water sports centre. When we began developing our first design concepts, it felt only natural to continue this heritage and way of thinking.
Visually, we wanted the new addition to connect with the site and its sawmill roots. Wood was the obvious choice – not just for the facade, but for the entire structure. It’s built from cross-laminated timber and finished inside with plywood. You could say the whole building is a celebration of wood. Architecturally, we aimed to distinguish the new structure from the more historic buildings. We wanted to create a modern addition with a bold, clean silhouette – a clear contrast to the rich detailing of the original architecture.
What were the key criteria in selecting materials – especially the flooring – to ensure both durability and design quality?
Selecting the materials was a careful and deliberate process. Together with the client and contractor, we searched for options that scored highly in both durability and sustainability. Many of the materials used in the build are bio-based and circular such as hemp insulation and cross-laminated timber.
When it came to the flooring, Bolon quickly became the preferred choice. Not only because of their outstanding commitment and results in sustainability, but also because we needed a material that could handle the wear and tear of a group accommodation without compromising our design vision. Bolon delivers on all fronts. And let’s be honest, a pink floor that’s both beautiful and responsible? That’s a designer's dream.
What architectural considerations were most important in integrating the new building functionally and aesthetically into the historic surroundings?
The original setup consisted of separate buildings that were not logistically connected and therefore also functioned independently. This layout didn’t suit the needs of a group accommodation and was one of the main challenges we aimed to resolve. From the beginning, we envisioned a space that, while appearing as a collection of buildings from the outside, would function as a single, unified building on the inside. The new addition was carefully integrated to create a shared space within the larger complex.
Another opportunity we saw was to physically and visually connect the building with its surroundings. The accommodation is beautifully situated by the water, along the Elfstedenroute, and next to a historic Dutch windmill. Originally, the entire complex was designed as an industrial site, intentionally shielding the working areas from view. As a result, there was very little connection to the landscape –only the main building faced the water. With the new addition, we wanted to open the building up to its environment and draw it in. We designed a full facade of floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors, allowing guests not only to enjoy the view but to step directly into it. In summer, the boundary between inside and outside completely disappears.
Photos: René van der Hulst