In the midst of moving his family into their newly constructed Hampden home, Jeremy Kargon has taken the time to set up a chair especially for visitors. Strategically located with its back to the family room's lone front-facing window, the armchair has been positioned so that those who occupy it can get the most comprehensive view of the building's modular composition. In addition to providing a glimpse through the bright family room and into the kitchen, the chair has been turned ever so slightly toward the side wall's vast floor-to-ceiling window, which, between slats of a massive exterior metal shade, offers a panorama of the neighborhood beyond.

From the meticulously situated chair to his views on life, Kargon, 40, is about offering a different perspective. The Baltimore-bred architect, who spent ten years living and working in Jerusalem, returned to his hometown two years ago to pursue his dream of designing single-family homes as investments. His first attempt, this rowhouse at the corner of Roland Avenue and 34th Street, has already had a profound impact on the fabric of the neighborhood. By offering one of the city's few examples of what happens when the traditional Baltimore rowhouse gets an unorthodox makeover, Kargon's building is sparking the beginnings of a shift in how locals consider urban residential architecture.

"It raises the design consciousness of an almost dismissed housing form," says Stuart Rehr, a fellow architect who lives on nearby Union Avenue. "He proves that there can be opportunity even within a very tight space."

Yet sitting surrounded by his numerous books, simple furnishings, and Hebrew artifacts, the outspoken but slightly discomfited Kargon has more modest intentions in mind. He sees architecture as an almost spiritual experience, complete with self-exploration and personal reflection. Ultimately, he says matter-of-factly, "self-proclaimed leaders in the profession have an implicit obligation to show by example how urban society might flourish."

For this reason, his departure from the historic Baltimore model is more a reaction to social responsibility than a statement of style. In fact, Kargon says he cares little about aesthetics-a surprising statement from a man whose three-story structure provides a sleek and modern bookend to a row of typical porch-fronted houses. "When you speak about architecture, one demands the image," Kargon says, "but what's more important is what you provide to the city."

For Kargon, providing for the city means creating a successful example of efficient infill housing. Armed with a deep understanding of economical city building based on his experiences in the Middle East and Europe (his wife, Isabelle, is French), and inspired by the successful urban pocket architecture of Toronto designer Bridget Shim, Kargon knew exactly what he was looking for when he began searching for property in Baltimore: "a dense urban environment with one of the teeth knocked out," he says.

After returning to Baltimore from Jerusalem in 2003, Kargon began exploring the streets of Hampden for the perfect site. The neighborhood had been his home for several years before he moved overseas and he knew Hampden was accustomed to blending the historic with the eclectic. Several months later, he came across the empty lot now sitting adjacent to his house. "According to the zoning map, the vacant property was block 108 and the house next to it was block 106," he says. "So I asked, ‘What happened to 107?'"

The answer lay with a successful local urologist who'd purchased the property in the 1980s for approximately $100. "He'd forgotten he owned it," Kargon says. For $3,000, plus several thousand dollars in back taxes, Kargon was able to acquire the lot; however, the purchase was contingent on his ability to get an appeal on a Baltimore zoning regulation that requires end-of-row units in that zone to be set back 10 feet, and at the same time requires that the home be a minimum of 16 feet wide. To meet the minimum width, the setback could be 8 feet at most, though Kargon preferred 6 feet. His appeal was ultimately approved.

Kargon sees his structure as an efficient and economic solution within the existing zoning envelope-essentially a reinterpretation of the "Hampden box." Indeed, the same rectangles that make up the porch, windows, and floors of the traditional home are simply reconfigured in Kargon's building. The scale is the same and the transition between the abutting building is smooth, but Kargon has articulated the boxes according to their function. The living room projects from the facade, and the face of the building has been moved to the home's exposed side, where it receives the best light and views. "That popped out wall represents the new Hampden," Kargon says.

One challenge for creating new infill architecture is cost. Kargon kept expenses down by forgoing traditional Baltimore wood and brick. Instead, Maryland Bay Contractors built Kargon's structure (which in total cost close to $200,000) from what he calls "highly engineered strip-mall materials" such as synthetic stucco and cinderblocks. Despite this dissimilarity from the neighboring stick-built homes, Kargon's home offers a yellow, white, and red color scheme to match the Maryland flag that hangs beside the front door from a telephone pole (which actually helps to support that corner of the house)-a nod to local culture and community.

Inside, the second-floor living room provides the nucleus for various planes stacked and linked by a simple logic. "We should put social life up top and keep our boudoirs private," Kargon says. There are no doors on any of the rooms-"a point of economy and a test of mutual respect"-and the bathrooms and kitchens are small and efficient. "We should do things smaller," Kargon says. "A family of four living in a shoebox is a good thing." Among his numerous opinions on urban living is a desire to embrace a minimalist attitude. "Certainly the economy of consuming less space is no less urgent than consuming less energy, fewer resources, etcetera," he says.

Kargon, who currently works full-time for a downtown commercial architecture practice, hopes to one day design and sell more investment homes. Although he's temporarily living in the house with his wife and two young sons, he doesn't anticipate having any trouble selling the place in the future. "The demographic is desperate for this," he says of the streamlined architecture.

Rehr agrees. He's spoken to neighbors in Hampden and has found, "if they've driven by it, they like it," he says.

Kargon's next project will involve several lots he has procured near Clipper Mill, but he hasn't yet decided how he'll use them. One thing Kargon is sure of: His designs will continue to challenge traditional perceptions of the Baltimore rowhouse.