What a Singapore black-and-white house lacks in mod cons it more than makes up for in atmosphere

In the three years since artist Louise Hill left Hong Kong for Singapore with her family, she has lived in three of the city state’s most sought-after forms of housing: a gleaming, contemporary town house on the resort island of Sentosa; a Peranakan shophouse, in the Joo Chiat conservation area; and, since the middle of last year, a black-and-white house in Medway Park, an estate named after a river that flows through Kent, in southeast England.

Among about 500 black-and-whites still standing in Singapore, most of them owned by the government, the Hills’ latest home is a mid-sized version of the bungalows the British administration adapted from Indian houses and built from the late 19th century until the second world war for expatriate families, civil servants and others. Their name, which refers to their dark timber beams and whitewashed walls, is proudly reinforced by the black-and-white striped bamboo blinds that shade their deep verandas and encourage outdoor living.

“With these black-and-whites you have big outdoor spaces that you might not get anywhere else,” says Hill, who so liked the idea of alfresco living that she turned a dining area in the house into a music room and furnished the veranda as charmingly as she has done her rooms indoors. “Our dining table is outdoors; we don’t eat inside at all.”

Their three-bedroom, two-storey house also comes with extensive gardens and a pool, well used by her twin, teenaged sons and their friends. There is also a studio in which Hill creates her fantastic (in the true sense of the word) artwork born of a peripatetic life, a keen eye for colour and detail, and a love of vintage imagery. One, named Sai Kung, where she lived for four years before decamping to Singapore, is a riot of colour and local references: a pink poodle sits beside a green taxi, above florid linoleum typically found on sampan floors. A picture of “Harrods”, the Sai Kung home­ware store selling “everything”, brings the composition down to earth.

“Asia has a grittiness behind it that I observe every day,” says Hill, referring to not just that composition but also the handful of works she has created in Singapore. Inspect each carefully and you’ll see that many of the motifs come from objets and fabrics dotted around the house. They include Buddha heads, tiffin containers, flasks and a giant double-happiness sign, made of metal, that greets visitors at the main door.

Her collection, like the house itself, is a vibrant melange of East and West. One room that is purposefully “quiet”, however, is the lounge, which opens onto the veran­dah. “I wanted these coffee tables to keep the space nice and white,” says Hill, pointing to a pair made with reclaimed balusters, on a white rug, in front of a white sofa. “Because I deal with colour so much in my work, I wanted to have a space that was neutral.”