Thirty years of travel, collecting and storytelling converge in this Muizenberg home, where layered interiors and a garden shaped by memory and meaning offer a richly personal escape.
Some homes are built, while others are woven — stitched together over decades through places visited, lessons learned and objects gathered with intention. John Venn’s Muizenberg haven is the latter: a soulful, sea-adjacent dwelling where global influences meet deeply personal narratives, and where every corner invites exploration, contemplation and, occasionally, a wry smile.
‘I first saw the property in 1988 and was immediately taken with the garden,’ John recalls. ‘It was completely undeveloped, but a spring-fed stream bisected the land and captured my imagination.’ That stream would eventually become the guiding axis of a landscape designed as a series of outdoor ‘rooms’ — one side planted with indigenous flora, the other a playground for exotics.
At the heart of the design is an eco-pool fed by a dual-channelled stream — a dream John had while living abroad that would, many years later, be realised with the help of a landscape designer. The building itself — a 1920s structure with high ceilings and a quiet openness — retains its early charm, but now hums with vibrancy.
After three decades living and working across Asia, John has filled the interiors with objects that speak not only to cultural richness but to lived experience. ‘I learned as much as I could about the places I lived — India, Korea, Singapore — and started collecting furniture, books, artwork, carpets and ceramics that reminded me of each place,’ he says. ‘Like many collectors, I can remember exactly when and where I found each item.’
The result is a home that’s both museum and memory, albeit one that doesn’t take itself too seriously. In a guest bathroom, Qing dynasty emperors gaze down with comical gravity, while paper lanterns and dragons pay cheerful homage to a favourite Chinese restaurant in New York. ‘My favourite reaction from guests is laughter — appreciative, not derisive, I hope!’ Still, humour never eclipses depth.
In the entrance lobby, a marble statue of Ganesh from Udaipur stands sentinel — a honeymoon find and gentle guardian of new beginnings. Nearby, Chinese ‘shipwreck’ porcelain is counterbalanced by serene figures of Guanyin, creating a quiet meditation on loss and compassion.
Hanging in the living room, a stormy maritime painting by Frank Vining Smith speaks of endurance, enterprise and a well-timed acquisition during the 1997 Asian financial crisis. 'It’s a sobering reminder of the effort required to bring a product to market,’ John says. ‘Especially when the Cape Town rain is lashing against the windows.’
The interiors are richly textured — lacquered furniture sits beside woven mats, velvet upholstery softens harder surfaces and intricate wallpapers by British brand Mind the Gap introduce bursts of character. Each room follows a clear narrative, often themed by region (India, China, Africa) allowing visitors to engage with the space, rather than simply admire it.
Supporting these items and their stories, lighting through temple lanterns, kung fu film props and glass pendants playfully shift the mood and theme. Scent also weaves an invisible but intentional thread. Inspired by designer Axel Vervoordt, John has layered fragrances throughout the home to evoke memory and meaning: jasmine and sandalwood in the Indian-style lobby, rose and ylang ylang in the entrance hall, South African geranium in the Africa-themed library. ‘It’s part of the sensory experience that contributes to a feeling of calm and authenticity,’ he says. ‘I love it when guests step into a room and ask, “What is that scent?”’
The garden is just as expressive. Framed by mountain slopes and designed to suggest an uninterrupted flow from the cultivated to the wild, it invites daily engagement and seasonal reinvention. John likens gardening to performance art — dynamic, expressive, ever-changing — and draws inspiration from the Japanese philosophy of shakkei (borrowed scenery), Balinese planting traditions and the sensual boldness of Brazilian landscape architect Roberto Burle Marx. ‘In summer, I move plants, artwork and furniture in and out to suit the mood and weather,’ he explains. ‘In winter, the doors close, but the garden is still very present through the expanse of glass.’
Despite the maximalism, there is structure. Groupings are deliberate, rooms have clear themes, nothing feels haphazard nor does anything feel cluttered or precious. Elevating objects on Perspex stands is a subtle nod to classical Chinese display traditions, a way to highlight something without declaring it untouchable. ‘Tell your story,’ John says, ‘but keep it relaxed and fun. Don’t take yourself too seriously, but do create a sense of coherence.’ It’s advice that has allowed him to merge his intellectual curiosity with a distinctly personal warmth.
Today, the Muizenberg house is John’s creative canvas, a role he’s embraced wholeheartedly since retiring. It stands in charming contrast to his other homes — most notably a minimalist Caribbean escape designed by his wife, a designer with a far sparer aesthetic. ‘When I retired, we agreed that I’d have full creative freedom in Cape Town,’ he laughs. ‘So far, it’s worked. She manages a few weeks here at a time before fleeing elsewhere.’ As for where he spends most of his time, the sunroom and conservatory are favourite morning spots — with mountain views and orchid-filled corners — while the snug living room offers comfort on cooler evenings.
Ask John to define the home’s true spirit and you’ll hear a simple, resonant truth: ‘Both inside and out, this house is about reflection, connection and celebration.’ In a world that prizes polish and perfection, John Venn’s Muizenberg home offers something far more rare — a generous, thoughtful, joyful space that honours both the journey and the collector behind it.
