Sponsored by Jennifer Rice, Heather Guild Group / COMPASS

Capri

Story by Ola Kuzmiankova

As I sat down to speak with Ken in his living room, with John Coltrane playing softly in the background, it became clear we shared an appreciation for more than In a Sentimental Mood. We were also aligned on something quieter and more enduring: the value of a well-preserved mid-century modern home.

I had visited 9014 Capri before. I had walked through it, studied its architecture, and shared it with thousands online. But this time, it felt different.
The afternoon sun reflected gently off the textured, almost “pixel-like” fireplace. A portrait of Bob Marley looked on, its quiet message, “everything’s gonna be alright,” grounding the space. The home didn’t ask to be admired. It invited you to slow down.

This is not a house you simply walk through. It’s one you experience.

A Lifetime Leading to This Moment

Ken’s journey to this home didn’t begin in Dallas.

“I’ve only ever wanted a mid-century modern,” he told me. “Even as a kid, I didn’t fully understand it, but I felt it.”

That instinct followed him across a life lived in many places, from Manhattan to Seattle to a decade on Kauai, where he built a home shaped by Asian influence and a close relationship with nature. That experience still shows up in how he thinks about space today.

Finding the right mid-century home is rarely straightforward. Many have been altered beyond recognition, others simply never become available. Until 2025, Capri had never been listed on the market. For Ken, though, the decision wasn’t analytical. It was instinctive.

“I walk through a house and try to connect with it,” he said. “I’ll sit in it, just sit and let it talk to me. See how it feels.”

He paused on that, then added:
“This one gave me peace.”

Architecture as Connection

Built in 1961 by Ju-Nel, Capri reflects a philosophy that feels increasingly rare: homes designed with nature, not against it.

That philosophy carries a distinct Japanese influence. Local preservationist Mark Weeks notes that co-founder Jack Wilson served in General MacArthur’s Honor Guard in occupied Japan following World War II. During that time, he was exposed to Japanese design and construction, including work near the Imperial Hotel in Tokyo by Frank Lloyd Wright. That influence would go on to shape many Ju-Nel homes, including Capri.

You see it here in quiet, intentional ways. The engawa-like overhangs soften the transition between interior and courtyard, extending the living space outward. The Shuangxi-patterned (喜喜) front gate marks a threshold on arrival. Original terrazzo floors run throughout the home, grounding the space in material permanence and mid-century craft.

The courtyard, often overlooked on first pass, becomes the emotional center of the home. Sit there long enough and your attention shifts. The trees begin to take over the experience. Light moves across surfaces. The boundary between inside and outside starts to disappear.

“I call it connectedness,” Ken said. “The connection between me, the house, and nature.”

It’s a simple idea, but it defines everything about how the home is lived in.

Nothing feels excessive. Everything feels intentional. You feel it immediately, but you understand it fully only when you slow down.

The courtyard, another distinct feature of Ju-Nel Homes, becomes the emotional center of the home. Sit there long enough, and the priorities shift. The trees begin to take over the experience. Light filters through movement. The outside and inside stop feeling separate.

It’s a subtle but powerful idea — one that defines not just the architecture, but how the home is lived in.

Preservation as Responsibility

For Ken, owning a Ju-Nel home carries weight.

“To me, it’s like honoring your grandparents,” he said. “Not everybody should own a mid-century home. You have to respect it.”

That respect shows up not in freezing the home in time, but in understanding how to evolve it thoughtfully. The goal is not perfection — it’s continuity.

“You can’t recreate this,” he told me. “This was built in 1961. It belongs to that moment. My job is to make sure it’s still here 200 years from now. I take personal responsibility and pride to ensure I preserve the authenticity of the Ju-Nel homes created by Lyle Rowley and Jack Wilson and what the architecture means to Dallas.”

That mindset stands in vivid contrast to much of today’s building culture — where teardown and replacement often take precedence over preservation.

A Legacy in the Making

For Ken, this home is also about what comes next.

“The most important thing to me is Nicholas and Daniel — my boys,” he shared.

They may not fully understand architecture yet, but they are already living inside it — experiencing space, light, and nature in a way that will shape them over time.

“My push to owning a Ju-Nel is because of them too.”

It’s not about teaching in the traditional sense. It’s about exposure — about growing up in a place that quietly instills an appreciation for design, intention, and permanence.

And one day, that understanding will come.

A Home That Gives Back

There is also something else happening here, something less tangible but just as important. Ken doesn’t see this as a private space alone. He sees it as something to be shared.

“I want people to feel something when they walk in,” he said. “Not just see it, feel it.”

That idea extends beyond the walls of the home and into the neighborhood itself, where architecture, community, and nature come together in a way that feels increasingly rare in Dallas.

And that is what makes Capri so compelling.

It isn’t trying to be impressive.
It isn’t trying to be new.
It simply is.

And in that, it offers something harder to find: a sense of calm, continuity, and connection.

Special thanks to Rees Bowen with Spiral Glass for making custom glass artwork for this home and the White Rock Home Tour.

Photography by Ethan Wardman