Now, buyers interested in putting time and money into distinctive older houses are scarce. These days, people tend to connect a little history with a high odometer.
“There’s kind of an aura that surrounds older homes, and it’s the aura of the unknown,” said Ms. Passavant, the sales manager at the Westport-Riverside office of Coldwell Banker. “Buyers feel like they don’t want to take on somebody else’s headache.”
In Westport, new construction rules the luxury market. Last year, of the 57 homes that sold for more than $3 million, 36 had been built within the previous five years. Vintage homes (1930s and older) accounted for just 4 sales.
Their low sales numbers are also related to dwindling inventory — years of teardowns have taken a toll. One older house that has caused a buzz of late is on prestigious Beachside Avenue, where, according to WestportNow.com, buyers who paid $20 million for three adjoining parcels last year have applied for permission to demolish a 10,000-square-foot 1930s colonial.
“Nobody seems to have any kind of respect or fond thoughts of history,” said Patti McGovern, an agent in the Coldwell Banker office.
The trend is also distressing to Michael Glynn, a New York City architect with extensive experience in preservation. Mr. Glynn, who grew up in Westport, was among those who several years ago tried to find a buyer for a residence there designed by the modernist architect Paul Rudolph. The house was demolished.
Now Mr. Glynn has been hired to draw up a renovation budget for another architecturally significant property, Laurel Lodge, a stone-and-masonry house listed since last May for $4.995 million. Designed by John Vredenburgh Van Pelt, the house was built in 1914 by an investment banker, Roger H. Williams.
The house’s situation on more than two acres on the Saugatuck River, with an 80-foot deepwater dock, makes it a prime target for builders. But the sons of the deceased owner hope to find someone willing to save their family home, said Ms. McGovern, who is listing the property with a colleague, Emily Gordon.
The interior is distinguished by ornate wood moldings and cabinetry, huge fireplaces and several pairs of French doors. Most unusual is the Japanese-style master bedroom, with handcrafted wooden latticework for shoji screens on all the windows and doors, and gold-leaf floral panels around the fireplace.
The design “is a marvelous composition, combining Arts and Crafts sensibilities with early 17th-century French vernacular,” Mr. Glynn said.
The problem is trying to find a buyer so taken with the architecture that the house’s poor state of repair is not a turnoff. The clay tile roof needs replacing, as do the kitchen and baths. Then there is the daunting task of restoring all the woodwork and plaster walls, and undoing various “improvements.”
Ms. McGovern plans to use Mr. Glynn’s detailed estimate of restoration costs to give potential buyers some hard numbers to work with. Mr. Glynn is not yet done, but he expects the tab to be well over $1 million.
“I’ve had architects walk in and their heads are spinning looking at the amount of work that needs to be done,” Ms. McGovern said. “This takes some of the questions out.”
Sometimes it’s the functional obsolescence of older houses that turns buyers away, Ms. Gordon said. These days, even those who say they want an older place will often decide they are not willing to sacrifice the en-suite baths, walk-in closets and expansive living areas of new ones, she said.
Lisa and Ward Burns are among the exceptions. In 2009 they bought a 1780s farmhouse in Easton specifically for its “charm and character,” Ms. Burns said. “We find it more homey than new construction.”
The house obviously needed work — the mechanicals were dubious, the bathrooms “minuscule,” and because it had been added on to over the years, the layout was odd. The couple planned to start by turning the garage into a family room open to the kitchen, adding a mudroom and building a barn.
Ms. Burns, a civil engineer, started a blog to chronicle their progress. The title, Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House, has proven more apt than anticipated.
In addition to the usual mishaps and inconveniences associated with renovations, the Burnses have been unpleasantly surprised by problems that don’t usually arise with new houses. The water heater blew up and flooded the basement. The ancient furnace quit. Last spring, groundwater flooded the basement relentlessly; the sump pump was inoperable.
“We pumped the basement for days,” Ms. Burns said. “That was probably the low point.”
But all in all, she added, “we don’t regret buying our house — we love our house.”
The barn is up, and the family room and mudroom are nearly complete. Like many other homeowners this winter, the Burnses have been coping with water damage caused by ice dams. But their old house does give them one advantage over brand-new: As Ms. Burns noted on her blog, with contractors already working on the premises, they don’t have to wait for help.