A face carved by Marcia Donahue appears to float just below the watery surface of one of the many ponds in the Hinkley-Jones front garden; in the center is a silvery Yucca rostrata backed by miscanthus plumes and a cinnamon-barked madrona tree.

	The hard surfaces of concrete floors and slate steps are softened by the dining room's grass-cloth walls and the whimsical glass sea-creature chandelier by local artist James Minson. Glass sliders on both sides turn the room into an open-air dining pavilion on warm summer evenings.

Jones, an architect who was busy for more than a decade as co-owner with Hinkley of Heronswood Nursery in Kingston, reacted to such majesty by designing a house that nestles into the property. "It was impossible to do anything architecturally to compete with that view," he says. The new house is stretched along the curve of the land to take full advantage of the southeastern orientation toward Mount Rainier. Its brown, darkest green and plum-colored exterior, trellising, courtyards and terracing tie it to the earth, while windows and sliding doors open it to the wind, water and horizon.

Hinkley, however, didn't hesitate to go head to head with the view. "The last thing I wanted to do was create a garden where people say, 'What a great view of Mount Rainier,' " he explains. Even before the house was built, he commissioned Portland artist Jeff Bales to craft an intricate mosaic stone fire pit at the edge of the bluff, joining with the gnarled madronas to effectively stop the eye at cliff's edge.

Northwest Coast-themed wooden carvings by David Franklin stand sentry at the Montana-slate fireplace in the hall, which serves as music room and living room for entertaining. In the foreground are ceramics that Hinkley collected on his extensive travels; poles for the metal lamps reflect the octopus theme found throughout the house.

Hinkley played to the sun-drenched site, planting masses of heat- and drought-loving plants like agapanthus, yuccas, agaves and ornamental grasses in colorful swathes running down the slope between house and cliff. Reveling in the California-like microclimate, agapanthus have already grown large, throwing up huge purple flower heads to mingle with feathery miscanthus bloom and the yucca's brazen flower spikes. Those familiar with the famed woodland garden and perennial borders at Heronswood will appreciate what a departure such a garden is for Hinkley, how he's adapted his talents and plant palette to the challenges of the property.

	Wooden chairs crafted by artist George Nakashima, originally from the Northwest, form a seating arrangement in the hall. On the wall is a painting of Eastern Washington's Palouse country by Bainbridge Island artist Gail Bard.

The landscaping on the water side of the house consists of much more than plants, however. "We're 160 feet above the expanse of water, so the idea was to raise the sound and the idea of water up from the beach," says Hinkley of the extravaganza of stone, terracing and water melding the house into the slope. Huge, mossy boulders humped as whale backs, deep, mysterious pools and shallow, rock-strewn ponds, runnels, waterfalls and berms contour the land. The sound of rushing water seems to echo the distant thumping of waves below. "I dwell within the earth, while Dan changes it," says Jones of the two distinct approaches that create such a dynamic dialogue between house and site.

Built by Bill Agnew of Port Blakely Builders, with woodwork and cabinetry by Dan Nichols, the house sits back from the excitement of the garden, its three pavilions and two connecting rooms set along a single spine. "The site is too big to be captured by a single space," explains Jones. "It needed varying perspectives."

The home's footprint was inspired by the open-air rooms and outdoor pavilions Hinkley appreciated while traveling through Turkey. Combine this concept with Asian overtones, Jones' admiration of the Craftsman style, both men's abundant hospitality and commitment to Northwest art, and you get an idea of the home's complex, intensely personal ambience.

Dual offices for Jones and Hinkley are in one of the connecting corridors, sheltered by shoji screens from the adjoining courtyard and a grove of bamboo crafted by California gardener-artist Marcia Donahue.

The rooms are intimate, filled with the warm tones of cherry and fir in finishes and furniture. Hard surfaces and paint were largely avoided by coating most walls in the sumptuous textures of bamboo and grass cloth. When paint was used, it was layered and topped off with gold leaf. Mercer Island interior designer Corwin Lee was involved early on, setting up an earthy palette of materials and color that guided Jones' and Hinkley's choices throughout the project.

Northwest artists' work fills the rooms, as well as art Hinkley has brought back from his plant explorations around the globe. Fabrics from Asia, carved wooden insects from Vietnam and bright plastic roosters bought at a roadside stand in South Africa coexist with pieces from local glass artists, painters and sculptors. "I wouldn't have clung to the single-spine concept as much as I did if the house wasn't to serve as a gallery," says Jones.

	Hinkley snatches attention from the view with a foreground of pools, waterfalls and rills garnished and supported by stones large and small. The land between house and cliff is shaped by the extensive network of boulders, plantings and water.

The purpose of each room was as meticulously thought out as the spaces. A cozy, private living room contrasts with a hall that serves as entertaining space, complete with piano and huge, welcoming hearth. The dining room is one of the connectors, a single room deep, with sliding-glass doors that open to a shady, planted courtyard on one side and wide-open view on the other. Offices, library and master bedroom are at one end of the spine, a guest suite at the other. The center of the house is a well-appointed kitchen, shiny pots and pans hung above a vast black Aga stove. Ebony granite countertops, stainless-steel refrigerators and cherry cabinets finish the sleek look. "We had a dinner party for 25 a couple of weeks ago, and the house worked as well as when we have four or five for dinner," says Jones of the dual food-prep areas and pantry.

This whole glossy effect of wood, metal and jet black is mitigated by the big bird cage in the kitchen window, occupied by a wild canary that fluttered in one day soon after the men moved from Heronswood. The bird now sings loudly in its roomy cage, watched over closely by two jealous dogs that no doubt share the pleasure of gazing out over the dazzling new garden to one of the most stunning views on the planet.