For a city so aligned with new technology, avant-garde art, and progressive politics, San Francisco can be downright reactionary when it comes to architecture. Tales abound of houses stalled or denied for failing to conform to a nostalgic style. In short: If you want it built, there will be bay windows.

“Architecture here is like a crime in some ways,” says Zoë Prillinger, who, with her partner, Luke Ogrydziak, founded OPA, a San Francisco–based firm with a penchant for experimentation. When they were approached by a couple to design a modern house on Telegraph Hill, with its picturesque Victorians and powerful neighborhood association, they knew they would have to practice what they call “stealth” architecture: concealing an iconoclastic interior behind a conciliatory facade.

Doug Smith, an entrepreneur, and his wife, Lorna, an artist and teacher, felt an immediate affinity for OPA’s work after seeing a few of the firm’s houses. East Coast natives who had raised their family in a renovated Craftsman bungalow in Marin County, the empty-nesters were ready to change it up. The property, which they had purchased in 2008, came with existing permits for a spec project that had languished. As long as they stayed within the envelope, there was a fair amount of leeway for what could occur behind closed doors.

Had the house been built right away, they likely would have done a somewhat predictable, loft-like design—all white walls, black metal, and strict rectilinear geometries. But the 2008 recession put the project on pause, and when it restarted in 2012, “we were all feeling a whole lot more adventurous,” says Prillinger.

Doug and Lorna wanted the home to express California’s natural beauty and less formal vibe. This, in turn, stoked the architects’ interest in a more extreme—even eccentric—approach: irregular angles, unapologetic color, off-kilter moments, and raw materials used in a deliberately ad hoc fashion as they placed three snug bedrooms, an art studio, a study, and public space across 2,900 square feet on four floors.

Even with its requisite bay windows, the cedar facade signals that something is afoot, with a triangular cutout that reads like a tear in the cladding and offers passersby a glimpse of the blue that defines one side of the house, covering the four-story metal staircase, the entire stairwell, and a small study.

The color, a customized Benjamin Moore cocktail, was inspired by the work of artists such as Franz West, whose embrace of pastels proved prophetic. “Pastels were like, so radical, so wrong, when we selected the color back in 2012,” says Prillinger. “So of course, that made us all really happy!”

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By contrast, the main living areas are defined by raw or mostly unfinished materials used in collage-like fashion. And the couple’s openness extended to other unorthodox decisions. For example, the floor of the guest room rises 20 degrees from the foot to the head of the nestled-in bed, a response to the sloping ceiling of the subterranean garage below.

Built like an elaborate piece of casework, the room has a vertical cabinet that separates it from a sitting area that converts into a third bedroom. The back of the house opens to the garden and assorted decks, and a staircase spirals up to a rooftop with panoramic views of San Francisco.

In the end, everyone found a way of making peace with the street while being true to themselves. The architects cite both Freud’s Civilization and Its Discontents and the writings of Adolf Loos, who likened a building’s exterior to a good suit that confers anonymity.

“Being in society can mean toning down aspects of yourself,” says Prillinger. “But inside, you can be as sensual, exotic, and complex as you like. Although this is a very well-behaved building, that doesn’t mean it hasn’t got a wildly expressive internal life.”

Project Credits:

Architecture: OPA / @opa_architects

General Contractors: Forsy the General Contractors / @forsythegc_sf

Engineering: Buro Happold Engineering / @buro_happold

Cabinetry Fabrication: Shada / @shada_design

Planting Plan: Delphine Huetz