House Tours – Frederic Magazine

Planting New Seeds on a Centuries-Old Plantation

Jill Simpson — Tue, 11 Feb 2025 16:05:06 +0000

Schumacher’s newest book, Southern Interiors: A Celebration of Personal Style by Tori Mellott, invites readers into the private worlds of inspiring creatives across the American South. In this exclusive excerpt, we’re paying a visit TO tastemaker and GARDEN designer KEITH G. ROBINSON IN CHATTAHOOCHEE HILLS, GEORGIA, TO find out what southern living means to him.

• • •

“I live in a historic home, built in 1841 as the centerpiece of a 10,000-acre plantation. It was constructed with an east-west orientation, so the windows capture the light of both the rising sun and dramatic sunsets that fill the receiving room with an amber glow. The house was only inhabited by one family until my tenure, so it has blessedly never undergone any modern renovations. The ancient trees on the property are sentinels of the past and give structure to a garden designed using them as focal points. Additionally, a noteworthy nurseryman and landscape designer installed boxwood parterres on the front of the property in 1837, which still thrive to this day. Native materials used out of necessity and availability yielded original quartz stone walls, which also front the property. It’s a curated assemblage which today would be quite costly to replicate. The house’s history and the quiet luxury of these elements are what make this place so special.”

Robinson and his dog, Winnie, head outside.

Nick Burchell

Madame Cécile Brunner roses spill over a wooden gate. The basin is a sorghum syrup kettle Robinson unearthed on the former plantation.

Nick Burchell

The dining room was built in 1898 to join the main house to the kitchen house. The tablecloth is antique damask; the 19th-century apothecary cabinet is lined in an 18th-century textile and holds part of Robinson’s collection of Paris porcelain.

How has the South shaped your aesthetic?

My family roots are French Creole and some of my earliest memories are of my paternal grandparents’ home in coastal Mississippi, where heirlooms were passed down for generations. From this, I developed an affinity for antique furnishings and accessories to create a sense of history, place, and mystery, and embrace the tradition of storytelling which is very characteristic of the South.

How does your environment enhance your sense of creativity?

I grew up in the mountains of North Carolina surrounded by beauty: the majesty of the mountains themselves; woods filled with thousands of species of native flowers and shrubs; growing, harvesting, and preparing meals from the land; and a sense of wonder for nature. I try to take the simplest of elements and create something sublime, like when I created large-scale bread boards fashioned out of 170-year-old poplar harvested from a derelict outbuilding on the property. Another time, I discovered milled cedar lumber, long forgotten, drying in the rafters of the barn and used it to build open shelving and plate racks for the kitchen.

The pelmets that crown the living room curtains are cornices recovered from the barn and date to 1868; Robinson commissioned an artisan to water gild them and paint them with a faux bois pattern.

Nick Burchell

A built-in cupboard in the dining room, originally designed to hold luncheon leftovers, now holds part of Robinson’s collection of serving pieces, which includes antique Limoges and Paris porcelain.

Nick Burchell

Tell us about your favorite Southern tradition.

Having a formal dining room. Growing up in a big family where there were seven at the table (I have three brothers and our maternal grandmother lived with us), we all ate every meal together. Breakfast and lunch were always in the breakfast room, and so was dinner during busy school weeks with varying extracurricular schedules. Saturdays were also casual, but Sundays were always in the formal dining room with linens, china, silver flatware, and a beautifully set table. From the age of eight, I foraged in our own garden and the surrounding woodland and fields for flowers from which I created centerpieces for Sunday dinner. Time was spent preparing and presenting the meal and we took our time enjoying it in a space that felt special. Slowing down and connecting as a family over a lovingly prepared meal—that says everything to me about what it means to be Southern.

What’s the quirkiest thing about your house?

Living in a house built in 1841 means that heating and cooling is a challenge. The wavy glass in the original windows is beautiful, but we pay dearly for that beauty!

Robinson cut the wood for the kitchen shelves from cedar planks he discovered drying in the barn rafters.

Nick Burchell

Why do you think Southern hospitality is so legendary?

Regardless of one’s means, Southerners always want to present the absolute best of what they have. Whether that means hosting an event or family gathering when the gardens are in peak bloom or incorporating the sublime umami of foraged chanterelle mushrooms into a special meal, I think that here in the South, we understand and appreciate the magnitude of creating lasting memories and incorporating all the senses into a crescendo that will forever be stamped in the minds of our guests.

What’s a Southern rule you love to break?

As we entertain a fair amount, guests generally offer to help clear or clean up or wash dishes. (Much of what we use must be hand washed.) We never allow our guests to help, even if they insist—I have a nightmare story about a guest having a mishap and breaking several dishes! And we don’t have a problem having a hard “end time” for a gathering. We wouldn’t want folks outstaying their welcome.

Robinson gathers the bounty from his vegetable garden on the front steps of the 1841 farmhouse, once the main house for a large plantation.

Nick Burchell

In an outbuilding, a custom baker’s rack holds vintage French and Belgian earthenware jugs. The trestle table was forged from heart pine and poplar boards reclaimed from another outbuilding.

Nick Burchell

This story originally appeared in Southern Interiors: A Celebration of Personal Style. Learn more here.

The post Planting New Seeds on a Centuries-Old Plantation appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

This Park City Ski Retreat Is Made for Cozy Family Gatherings

Christina Elliston — Wed, 05 Feb 2025 22:54:38 +0000

When fresh powder starts coming down, the narrow road that leads from the base of Iron Mountain to the glass-walled house nestled on its rear slope can become treacherous. (At least one moving truck has ended up stranded in a snowbank while attempting to reach it.) But to the Houston family who owns the secluded lodge on the outskirts of Park City, Utah, that journey is part of what makes it feel like such a refuge.

The other part? That’s all down to the interiors, dreamed up by Houston-based Elizabeth Young. From the beginning, she knew the house had to be extra-inviting, not just to her real estate investor clients, but to their three newly minted adult children who range in age from 18 to 23 and are spread across the country from Los Angeles to the East Coast. They had vacationed as a fivesome in nearby Deer Valley for years, but now, the parents wanted something that felt permanent—a place guaranteed to lure the kids back, with friends in tow, for skiing holidays, summer hikes, and big Fourth of July parties.

Designer Elizabeth Young picked the vintage Stilnovo chandelier to complement the backdrop rather than compete with it, while deep custom lounge chairs and an even deeper sofa invite visitors to sink right in. The Frank Lloyd Wright ottoman, originally crafted in 1951 for the Benjamin Adelman House in Phoenix, looks very at home on the slopes.

Laura Resen

Above the limestone fireplace, a black steel wall camouflages a big-screen TV. A vintage oak game table is flanked by a pair of Edition Modern iron chairs upholstered in pumpkin-hued velvet inspired by fall foliage. Vintage Moroccan rug from Carol Piper Rugs.

Laura Resen

With that in mind, Young set about creating a space that was not just comfortable but intoxicating to everyone: parents, kids, and a rotating cast of guests that includes teenage boys, budding careerists, and well-established adults.

The first order of business? Generating a little surprise. “A mountain house can be very predictable,” says Young, who studiously avoided anything that even hinted of bearskins and antlers and went for a counterintuitively cool opening statement in the entry: a knockout Christian Lacroix wallpaper mural. Its mesmerizing abstract swirl resolves into an arrangement of ornate bird feathers in a way that immediately tells guests, “This isn’t what you were expecting.”

“The visual anchor of the dining room is nature, but I wanted to break it up with a hint of chaos and surprise,” says Young, who covered the ceiling in a hand-painted Porter Teleo wallpaper that echoes the landscape’s organic rhythm. Cane chairs by Ditte and Adrian Heath surround a 1960s Swedish pine table, whose slatted top calls to mind an elegant picnic table. A billowing Apparatus Cloud Chandelier floats above; on the floor is a custom wool shag from Carol Piper Rugs.

Laura Resen

But in her own way, Young stayed true to the mountain setting. “There’s so much glass, and wherever you look there’s a window with a stunning view,” she says. Nature, it seemed, was intent on stealing the show—so she let it. Many moves—like darkening a steel wall above the fireplace until the big-screen TV virtually disappeared into the blackness—were carefully calibrated to keep eyes from wandering away from the scene outdoors. And while Young typically embraces color and pattern, here, she held back to ensure the focus was always squarely on the pageantry of the seasons.

“We don’t have fall in Houston, and I’d never really tuned into the leaves changing before,” says Young. “In Park City, suddenly everything went from green to gold with all of these pumpkin and purply brown tones. It was intense.” And then came winter, with its blanket of white against slate gray mountaintops and ghostly silver trees. She let that guide her to a black-and-white palette that extends from the entry into a long hallway and knits all the rooms together, then dappled the spaces with shades stolen from the foliage that had so stunned her in the fall.

From a distance, the Christian Lacroix wallpaper mural in the entry can read like a modernist take on snow swirling through a vertiginous topographic trail map, but on close inspection, offers up the surprise of bird feathers. Combined with the artwork—Elliott Puckette’s Rushen Coatie—plus a 1950s pencil reed enfilade and a midcentury cane chair, it’s a layered vision of pattern that sets a chic, informal mood. The 1950s French brass table lamp is from M. Naeve.

Laura Resen

Built for a crowd of boys, the bunk room is a true heathered-wool hideaway, wrapped in a flannel wallpaper from Maya Romanoff. The blanket of coziness is countered with pinstripes from Dedar on the custom bolsters and drapes. A 1970s iron sling chair and vintage Turkish tulu rug shifts the room into more grown-up territory.

Laura Resen

She also set about warming up the undeniably contemporary architecture (think massive stone walls and acres of plate glass) with the rich comforting textures of linen, wool, and velvet, which she applied to a series of cozy lounging spots that offer up a calm respite from the rugged outdoors in both summer and winter. In the biting cold of January, the older girls can schuss down the slopes with their friends and then fall into a cosseting group of bouclé-covered lounges by a fire that crackles away in a modern minimalist black-and-white tableau. In the heat of August, the family can set out for a trek straight up the mountain, and
when the sun becomes too strong, descend for a meal beneath the shade of a wallpapered ceiling in the dining room; its deep greens and browns reflect the random rows of trees just outside, making it feel like a leafy tree house, especially when the glass doors are opened wide and meals spill out onto the balcony. And then there’s the cozy fun of the flannel-lined bunk room, wallpapered in a heathered wool wallpaper that muffles the hijinks of the teenage boys who pile into the four luxury bunks.

With so many hard surfaces, the primary bath was “in desperate need of some richness,” says Young, who accessorized the existing soaking tub with long slate-gray wool drapes and a bouclé-clad Italian ottoman. The rug is a remnant from the vintage Moroccan that was cut down to size for the great room.

Laura Resen

Off in the primary bedroom, the parents have their own haven, a place where they can slip into a cocoon that feels especially welcoming when the snow is falling. The custom Porter Teleo wallpaper provides a beguiling organic backdrop that’s hard to identify; it’s the color of slate, yet reads as soft and warm. Paired with wool drapes and a custom bed swathed in aubergine velvet—a shade cribbed from the turning leaves—it all adds up to space that urges one to sink in and stay. As in other parts of the home, much attention was paid to lighting, with the glare of over-heads banished in favor of more atmospheric lamps, including a pair with tessellated stone bases that speak to the peak just outside the window.

Sumptuous, serene, and surrounded by balconies, the primary bedroom allows for stepping outside for a morning coffee or evening nightcap before snuggling in for the night. Porter Teleo’s hand-painted Fluid Tones wallpaper creates a moody texture that’s deepened with dark purple wool drapes and upholstery from Metaphores and a custom bed enveloped in Schumacher’s Gainsborough velvet. Walnut and wicker bench, Found, Houston.

Laura Reves

Given that this was Young’s fifth project with the owners, she had the luxury of trust and time to find key pieces. The clients, avid collectors with a passion for midcentury French and Italian furniture, fell particularly hard for hard-to-come-by 1960s cane chairs by Ditte and Adrian Heath, which took a full year to assemble as a full set of 12. The family also loves puzzles as much as they love lacing up their hiking boots, but finding just the right game table for the great room took months; now, the midcentury oak-and-chrome number in the great room is a favorite gathering spot. “I let the house evolve and build with collections as the family lived in the space,” says Young. “That’s how things become meaningful, and pieces start to matter.”

For their part, the owners were thrilled with the house. “It’s rare to have the opportunity to collaborate with someone who knows you so well and who shares your vision for the space,” says the client. Yes, it’s a mountain house, but it’s not that kind of mountain house. It’s exactly the gathering place they dreamed of, an alluring escape where they can buckle up their ski boots and carve a few turns or go for a long run and then meet everyone back at home base—for decades to come.

THIS ARTICLE ORIGINALLY APPEARED IN VOLUME 15 OF FREDERIC MAGAZINE. CLICK HERE TO SUBSCRIBE!

The post This Park City Ski Retreat Is Made for Cozy Family Gatherings appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

Betsy Berry Infuses a Historic Charleston Gem with Modern Energy

Jill Simpson — Thu, 30 Jan 2025 19:59:26 +0000

Not long after a New York attorney with Charleston roots decided to purchase a circa-1820 home in the Holy City as a warm-weather getaway, he had the good fortune to meet designer Betsy Berry through mutual friends. It was an instant meeting of the minds: “My taste truly aligned with his,” says the founder of B. Berry Interiors. “I’m not overly feminine and lean more masculine in my design, but I really love the tension between the two.”

The townhouse, in the picturesque South of Broad neighborhood, sits on a small street famous for the guinea hens that frequent the block.

Brie Williams

Antique demilune tables and a leather safari chair, both from 1^st Dibs, add antique panache. The geometric Stark Carpet rug plays off the linear wall treatment.

Brie Williams

Since her client entertains frequently, Berry wanted the home to be a welcoming retreat, eschewing any notion of a sterile bachelor pad. In the dining room, she introduced a Gracie Studio chinoiserie wallcovering with a sophisticated tobacco ground, then tempered that flourish by stripping the existing fireplace surround to reveal its striking original wood finish. “I like to show age in that way and thought it was a nice, masculine touch against the elegant wallpaper instead of a perfect, glossy finish,” she says. The furnishings keep fustiness at bay, with a clean-lined cerused oak table, leather-upholstered Gustavian dining chairs, and modern lighting.

A Gracie Studio wallpaper brings a subtly feminine touch to the dining room, contrasted with an Apparatus Lariat ceiling fixture. A Benjamin Studio oak table pairs with Chelsea Textiles leather chairs.

Brie Williams

Berry focused on the dichotomy between old and new, especially important in houses of this age. “I love architectural interiors and bringing out their best is a major part of we do. When I’m working on a historic residence, I want to respect and celebrate the original moldings, fireplaces, medallions, and the like,” she says. “But I don’t want it to feel like a period piece or museum.”

For the chic, lounge-like den, Berry used a Phillip Jeffries wallcovering that resembles coffered wood in shades of blue and gray for visual depth. The custom French-mattress sectional is covered in a Rose Tarlow fabric; chandelier, Apparatus.

Brie Williams

The primary bedroom opens onto a second-floor piazza, a common architectural feature in Charleston. A Phillip Jeffries grasscloth, Husk, made from banana bark, adds luminous texture. Painting from George Street Gallery.

Brie Williams

Another tool in Berry’s creative arsenal is to use a modern wall treatment to offset a room’s formality while still highlighting its architectural details and high ceilings. In the living room, she designed a geometric pattern for the walls that was hand-stenciled by a local decorative painter. “I was inspired by the entrance halls of old European houses that have walls of cut limestone blocks in a running bond pattern, and I wanted that essence,” she says. The room’s palette of French gray-green, black, and a hint of chartreuse in the furniture and rug sprang from the wall design.

For the first-floor den, Berry sought an end-of-the-evening, cozy vibe in contrast to the adjoining light and bright kitchen and breakfast room. The coffered wallpaper design conjures the desired moodiness in shades of deep blues and grays, picked up in the French-mattress sectional and leather ottoman with a cerused oak base.

A space off the kitchen functions like a library, with original arched cabinets flanking the fireplace, contrasted with a more contemporary Eames Lounge Chair and monochromatic art. Paint, Farrow & Ball Wimbourne White.

Brie Williams

“All the pine hardwood floors are original except in the breakfast room, so we bridged the difference with a stenciled treatment,” says Berry. McGee & Co. table and chairs; Rose Uniacke pendant; Alan Taylor Jeffries art through The George Gallery.

Brie Williams

The designer employed antiques sparingly as a foil to more streamlined elements and to ground the spaces. The living room, for example, shows off 19th-century Hepplewhite-style demilune tables and a vintage black leather safari chair. Berry also sprinkled in gold 19th-century-style French mirrors for brushstrokes of old-world allure. For floor coverings, though, she opted mainly for neutral, textured solids. “This was not a home where I wanted to bring in antique patterned rugs,” she says. “I aimed for a cleaner, more masculine look for this client, so I focused on layering decoration on the walls instead.”

Nowadays, visitors to the home often question when it was built, a fact that Berry embraces. “I want it to feel murky,” she confesses. “It’s about diffusing the age with updated comfort and understated style while still paying homage to a grand dame of Charleston.”

A classic Cole & Sons cloud wallpaper takes center stage in a guest bedroom set off with trim in Farrow & Ball Downpipe gray. A modern tester bed keeps the compact room feeling airy. Visual Comfort chandelier.

Brie Williams

The original rafters in the third-floor guest bath impart instant character and a dramatic focal point. The rest of the room is quiet, with walls and floors painted in Farrow & Ball All White. Fritz Porter baskets.

Brie Williams

The post Betsy Berry Infuses a Historic Charleston Gem with Modern Energy appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

Tour Sarah Vanrenen’s Cozily Layered Wiltshire Farmhouse

Jill Simpson — Thu, 16 Jan 2025 21:28:55 +0000

“I never really feel comfortable sitting in a room that is absolutely perfect, where everything matches,” says British interior and textile designer Sarah Vanrenen. “It’s got to have a kind of organic feel.” As she says of her own 300-year-old farmhouse in Wiltshire, England, “It’s lived-in, it’s real, it’s colorful.”

The large farmhouse, originally three separate cottages, belonged to her husband’s grandmother. It was the perfect blank slate for Vanrenen’s layered approach to decorating, with rooms cocooned in color, laden with patterned fabrics and wallpaper, with artwork covering every wall. “I crave color. It feeds my soul,” she says. “Color makes rooms feel inviting and warm and comfortable.” There also needs to be visual relief, she notes, some neutral contrast. “I think a house can definitely have too much stuff,” she cautions, “but I don’t think a house can ever have too much art. Art says everything about the person who lives in a house, and when it’s hung well, adds huge character.”

Vanrenen opened up the ceiling of the primary bedroom to the rafters, and wrapped everything in her “Dotty” flower-strewn wallpaper and fabric, adding the canopy bed she’d always coveted.

“When I’m decorating a room, I do it like I’m starting a painting,” she explains, starting with wall color, and then bringing in different patterns and furnishings to see what works best together. “There’s got to be big pattern, small pattern, and then a bit of space around it that lets it breathe.”

Come tour Vanrenen’s warm and welcoming home and see why, she says, “When it’s at its best and my family are here and we’re all sitting around the kitchen table having lunch or supper, it’s the happiest I can ever be.”

Vanrenen in the meadow outside the 300-year-old Wiltshire farmhouse where she and her husband live.

The post Tour Sarah Vanrenen’s Cozily Layered Wiltshire Farmhouse appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

Visit a Young Designer’s Calm and Collected Studio Apartment

Penelope Riley — Tue, 14 Jan 2025 18:27:41 +0000

Good things come in small packages. Case in point: the 585-square-foot Manhattan studio apartment of interior designer Forrest Walterhoefer. Charmed by its tennis club views, oak parquet floors, and quiet Sutton Place surroundings (he ignored the friends who deemed it “boring”), he signed a lease upon moving to New York in 2017 and began crafting his own little corner of the city.

A large bronze mirror from Wyeth anchors the entry, hanging alongside a geometric charcoal study by Walterhoefer’s grandmother and an antique portrait. The bench is a French antique from John Derian.

JOSHUA MCHUGH

In the living area, a 1980s aerial photograph of Aventura, Florida, hangs over the Crate & Barrel sofa, re-covered in a Holly Hunt linen; the side table and armchair are by Milo Baughman; and the pair of mirror-polished cocktail tables are by Joe D’Urso. Vintage Nessen marble lamp; sisal rug from Sacco.

JOSHUA MCHUGH

Walterhoefer, who cut his teeth in the studio of Mark Cunningham before setting out on his own just last year, was used to working within much larger footprints—and budgets. But by taking a savvy (and sometimes counterintuitive) approach to furnishings, he was able to maximize every precious inch of the pint-size apartment.

“I didn’t shy away from bigger pieces of furniture, and I think that makes the space feel larger,” says Walterhoefer. When his eight-foot sofa—a Crate & Barrel model he’d re-covered in Holly Hunt linen—wouldn’t fit on the elevator or in the stairwell, he had to hire New York institution “Dr. Sofa” to cut it in half and reupholster it on site. (“I cried a lot that day,” he recalls with a laugh.)

A Saarinen table serves as desk and dining surface, surrounded by Hans Wegner Heart chairs and a Mies van der Rohe Brno chair. The console displays a paper table lamp by Christopher Baker from Dobrinka Salzman. The vintage pendant is by Jo Hammerborg.

JOSHUA MCHUGH

Unfortunately, when it came to the welded steel canopy bed he arrived with, there was no such option. To take its place, he opted for a simple Room & Board model that he updated with a custom black cork headboard. Such high-low hacks—where material and form are prioritized—proved the secret to achieving the same tailored, collected look that Walterhoefer strives for in his professional projects.

“Clean lines and simple shapes are classic and timeless,” he explains. “If you need to save, save on those pieces, then complement them with items that have more history, more texture, more life, and it all balances out.” A bit of luxe upholstery can also take a piece to the next level: A hair-on-hide from Holly Hunt elevates a vintage Mies van der Rohe Brno chair, while a simple ottoman is sheathed in Rogers & Goffigon mohair.

In a tiny hallway, a vintage Guillerme et Chambron dresser displays a 1950s lamp from Vallauris, France, and a shark jaw; porcelain sculptures by Anat Shiftan, from Hostler Burrows gallery, hang above.

JOSHUA MCHUGH

A trio of artworks frames a vintage metal hoop chair in the living area.

JOSHUA MCHUGH

Just after arriving in New York, Walterhoefer visited the 2017 Kips Bay Decorator Show House, where Robert Stilin’s art-filled salon made a deep impression. “It really inspired me to take a small room and just cover it in art,” he recalls. Starting with a 1980s aerial photo of Aventura, Florida—a piece he acquired while working as a design assistant for Miami-based Robert Rionda—he began building out his own collection. Today, walls are hung with charcoal drawings by his grandmother, sidewalk art purchased in SoHo, a Guillaume Linard Osorio work from Carvalho Park, and, as fate would have it, a Jean Lurçat lithograph acquired from Stilin himself.

“I wanted to create a smooth transition from the living room area into the bedroom area, so I used a larger than usual nightstand,” explains Walterhoefer, who selected an antique console to separate his sofa from the Room & Board bed, which he updated with a cork headboard. The custom ottoman is upholstered in Rogers & Goffigon mohair and the artwork is by Guillaume Linard Osorio from Carvalho Park.

JOSHUA MCHUGH

Walterhoefer’s array includes everything from a shark jaw that belonged to his grandmother to a special set of Hans Wegner Heart chairs he found in Palm Beach. “These are probably my most prized possessions,” he says of the pair of mirror-polished Joe D’Urso cocktail tables he hunted down over the course of a year, finally scoring a matching pair via two separate dealers. “The excitement was unbelievable.”

“More than anything, I just wanted it to feel layered and collected over time.”

Forrest Walterhoefer

These days, says Walterhoefer, who is splitting his time between New York and Miami, “I spend most of my time at this table,” referring to the Eero Saarinen tulip in his office-slash-dining room. An avid cook, he eats nearly every meal here as well. He still loves the neighborhood—and his friends are coming around. “Younger people are moving here every day, but it’s still very quiet and well maintained,” he says. Plus, “I discovered recently that Thom Browne’s townhouse is two blocks away,” he adds, giddily. “I just feel cooler knowing that.”

THIS ARTICLE ORIGINALLY APPEARED IN VOLUME 14 OF FREDERIC MAGAZINE. CLICK HERE TO SUBSCRIBE!

The post Visit a Young Designer’s Calm and Collected Studio Apartment appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

Elizabeth Damrich Puts a Fresh Spin on a Grand Greek Revival in Alabama

Isabel Molster — Thu, 09 Jan 2025 16:24:04 +0000

“I could name the order of columns before I could say a sentence,” laughs Elizabeth Damrich, recalling a childhood surrounded by stately Greek Revival houses in sleepy Athens, Alabama. So naturally, when the creative director and fashion designer (she has a line of apparel and accessories with Southern department store Dillard’s) found herself house-hunting in her husband Michael’s hometown of Mobile, Alabama, after a stint in Charleston, she couldn’t resist touring an 1885 dwelling known as the Rapier House.

Damrich’s daughter Gigi climbs the front steps of their 1885 Greek Revival house.

William Waldron

An Aubusson tapestry is a romantic foil for an angular slipcovered sofa in the living room. Damrich, pictured, wears an Eleanor Shirt Dress by Eleanor Leftwich.

COURTESY OF ELIZABETH DAMRICH

“I love the strength of Greek Revival set against the wild landscape,” Damrich says. “It's what drew me to the Rapier House and its Ionic columns. Ionic is the feminine order and I just love what that represents.”

William Waldron

Cinematically perched on a palm-lined boulevard in the Oakleigh Garden Historic District, a quartet of white Ionic columns standing tall in front of its butter-yellow exterior, the Rapier House embodies a certain type of Southern graciousness. “You feel it in the architecture—the higher ceilings and tall windows that give you space to breathe and create, the drapes that puddle onto the floor in a generous way, objects from the past reminding you of where you came from,” says Damrich, who has spent the past several years turning the stately house into a modern-day home for her family with two young children.

Bare floors and clean white walls in the foyer are a pared-down foundation for a Julie Neill plaster chandelier and graphic tablecloth made from Even Stripe Indoor/Outdoor fabric by Caroline Z Hurley for Schumacher. The iron chair and shell mirror are antiques Damrich found in New Orleans.

William Waldron

A fragment of a Zuber scenic wallpaper is framed in the foyer; the antique iron chair once graced the halls of the Soniat House hotel in New Orleans.

William Waldron

The Aubusson tapestry that gives the “tapestry room” its name is a romantic foil for an angular slipcovered sofa and a low-slung cocktail table.

William Waldron

Her approach honors that ethos of gracious living without being beholden to tradition: The curtains framing those towering windows aren’t formal silk but simple ivory linen; heirloom antiques are paired with clean-lined, modern furniture; floors are left bare or outfitted with humble jute rugs. “My approach requires some rule breaking but ultimately leans into finding ways to live well in the space,” she says. “A room could be used for cocktails one day and a children’s bouncy house the next. When we have parties, even if I’m wearing some fancy gown, I’m likely barefoot.”

For Damrich, watching a new generation marvel at their surroundings has been its own reward: “My children trace the intricate molding with their hands, and I’m hoping that love of design and appreciation of craft seeps into their bones as well.”

In the guest room, curtains and a bed canopy in Schumacher's Prestwick Wool Satin (the latter trimmed in Heraldic Trim by Happy Menocal for Schumacher) make for a cosseting refuge. The bedspread is Incomparable Moiré by Schumacher.

William Waldron

THIS ARTICLE ORIGINALLY APPEARED IN VOLUME 14 OF FREDERIC MAGAZINE. CLICK HERE TO SUBSCRIBE!

The post Elizabeth Damrich Puts a Fresh Spin on a Grand Greek Revival in Alabama appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

Tour an Art Advisor’s Curated Brooklyn Brownstone

Isabel Molster — Mon, 06 Jan 2025 21:40:40 +0000

In the summer of 2020, Eleanor Edelman started looking at houses for sale in Brooklyn—not because she was thinking of buying one, but because she didn’t have much else to do. During the lockdown, she had left London, where she’d lived for the past 10 years, and was now staying with her parents on Long Island; meanwhile, she had decided to take a temporary break from the blue-chip contemporary art advisory she cofounded, Edelman Mack. With plenty of time on her hands, she thought, why not go to a few open houses? But as she stepped into one particular 19th-century brownstone in the historic Clinton Hill neighborhood, something strange occurred. “I was overwhelmed by the feeling I had been there before,” she says. Walking through the high-ceilinged parlor and into a back dining room overlooking a peaceful garden, Edelman thought, “This is the most special place I’ve ever been—and I have to make it my own.”

“My mother is an interior designer, so I grew up with somebody who was very aware of space and color and I learned a lot from her,” says Edelman, pictured.

William Waldron

The entry to Edelman’s first rental apartment in London featured a convex mirror, which she later learned is believed to ward off evil spirits. “I’ve placed a large convex mirror at my entry ever since,” she says; this one is from the Convex Mirror Company.

William Waldron

Edelman used a vintage onyx table she found while living in London to help create a visual division between the two seating areas of her Brooklyn brownstone’s parlor floor. The vintage Norman Cherner chair beside it is covered in The Wave Velvet by Miles Redd for Schumacher. A Noguchi paper lantern and tall CB2 mirror draw the eye up to the 13-foot ceiling.

William Waldron

And so she did. Edelman quickly reached out to an interior designer that she had known all her life to help her decorate this space, her very first house. The designer, however, refused the commission—on the basis that she was also Edelman’s mother. “My mom was worried that if we had any disagreements, it would hurt our relationship,” Edelman recalls. Though initially disappointed by this turn of events, she now feels only gratitude. “It forced me to do it for myself, to make every decision,” she says. “Every color, every fabric was something I chose, as opposed to something that my mom chose for me. And as a result, every single thing in this house is something that I love.”

While the large midcentury rosewood sideboard “was not an obvious choice for the space,” she combined it with more delicate furniture and artwork to soften its presence and ended up thrilled with the result. The armchairs are by Phantom Hands, and the jute rug is Keno by Patterson Flynn.

William Waldron

Edelman wanted each room to feel different—“like its own kind of artwork,” she says—but still in dialogue with one another, which presented a challenge in a house just over 17 feet wide. Instead of treating the long, narrow parlor floor (which, to Edelman, felt like a “railroad track”) as one unit, she divided it into two separate seating areas. A lighter, quieter space at the front of the house functions as the go-to spot for reading, relaxing, and watching TV when it’s just Edelman and her boyfriend at home, while the cozier, more colorful space deeper into the house works as an entertaining hub, offering guests a place for cocktails, games, and chatting with Edelman as she fixes dinner in the adjacent kitchen.

In a quiet sitting area, Edelman took her cues from a Johnny Abrahams painting, opting for a pale palette and a variety of subtle organic textures, including an RH parchment coffee table and Patterson Flynn’s Keno rug.

William Waldron

In the kitchen, Edelman kept the custom lacquered island designed and installed by the house’s previous owner, designer Michelle R. Smith; its black-and-gold palette is mirrored in a pair of paintings by Lily Lewis (left) and Colm Mac Athlaoich that hang behind it.

William Waldron

Unlike many of its neighbors, the 1878 Neo-Grec house—which Edelman calls a “very personality-heavy space”— has retained plenty of its original architectural characteristics, including 13-foot-high parlor ceilings, huge arched doorways, and filigreed doorknobs and hinges. Edelman is enamored of the craftsmanship evident in these details, like the living area’s original parquet floors, crafted with matchstick-thin detailing. “Over the past century, the nailheads that hold the wood in place have ‘bled’, leaving stains throughout. It’s a unique part of the house that I treasure,” she enthuses.

In order for these flourishes to peacefully coexist with her enviable collection of 20th- and 21st-century art and furniture, Edelman kept the palette neutral and the layout spare, creating breathing space to admire both the dramatic curve of a doorway and the impact of a modern abstract painting. “Ultimately, I think the key was not overthinking it,” she says. “In my work, I’m often playing with the idea of new and old, sometimes mixing a client’s old master oil painting with something minimal and contemporary, so I was totally comfortable throwing midcentury American furniture in front of an 1890 marble mantelpiece.”

Drawing inspiration from the English countryside and the trees just outside the windows, decorative artist James Mobley transformed the dining room into a dreamy, misty green-gray retreat. The parchment dining table is vintage, with simple white chairs from Ikea.

William Waldron

Every single piece in my house is something that I feel extremely personally, emotionally connected to.

ELEANOR EDELMAN

As someone who spends her work life surrounded by art— her newest project, Studio Edelman, specializes in both art and interior design—Edelman is often asked how she chooses what she collects and displays in her own home. “There are lots of works of art that I’ve worked on over the years that I have been impressed by, or thought were significant, or felt were important as part of somebody else’s collection. But every single piece in my house is something that I feel extremely personally, emotionally connected to,” she says. Among her favorites: a Medusa-inspired watercolor by Giulia Andreani that hangs in her bedroom, which Edelman loves for its beauty, for its subject matter (she has a particular interest in Greek mythology), for the fact that it is a female nude by a female artist, and for the way Andreani takes on a weighty subject with watercolor, which is often dismissed a less-than- serious medium. (Edelman makes a point of collecting work by young female artists because she thinks “female painters are phenomenal,” she says, and also as a corrective to “the asymmetry that’s existed in the art market for hundreds of years.”)

Inspired by the ease, simplicity, and elegance of country houses in the south of France, Edelman decided to paint the floor in Farrow & Ball’s Pointing, a warm white; the cowhide rug is from Overland.

William Waldron

The media room “is definitely the party room,” says Edelman, who embraced natural textures—a Marni Marketplace bench, a vintage rug from Frances Loom—to complement a set of works by Antoni Tapies.

William Waldron

A pair of Warren Platner chairs, flanking the original marble mantel, brings contemporary energy into the primary bedroom. The painting by Giulia Andreani, "Medusa ou avec une fille à poil tu peux le faire à 100 de plus," is a particular favorite. Dresser, BDDW; buffet lamps, Thomas O’Brien for Visual Comfort.

William Waldron

She is also especially partial to a quasi-figurative painting by Daniel Crews-Chubb in her living area. Featuring imagery from Yoruban and Finnish mythology, it is a wild, messy, rough-around-the-edges painting that, she admits, isn’t her usual cup of tea. “I love simple beauty— uncomplicated things that everybody finds beautiful,” she explains, “and so when I find something that’s got a little bit of ugliness to it that I really love, it’s that much more special to me.”

In her own home, Edelman feels she absolutely fits. “Everything from the moldings and proportions to the flow of the space are definitively my style,” she says. She adores the place’s quirks, finding it “sexy and romantic” that in order to reach the second-floor terrace, guests have to go through her bedroom and bath, then climb through a window. Having grown up in Manhattan, where looking out her bedroom window meant looking into somebody else’s, being on a quiet block surrounded by trees feels practically like country living. “I travel a lot for work, and every time I open the front door after a long flight, I am overwhelmed by a sense of home,” she says. “This is the home I envisioned for myself as a girl, and I feel so lucky to have found it and had the opportunity to make it my own.”

THIS ARTICLE ORIGINALLY APPEARED IN VOLUME 14 OF FREDERIC MAGAZINE. CLICK HERE TO SUBSCRIBE!

The post Tour an Art Advisor’s Curated Brooklyn Brownstone appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

A 19th-Century Fire Station Becomes an Antiques Dealer’s Elegantly Curated Home

Jill Simpson — Sat, 04 Jan 2025 05:42:34 +0000

Schumacher’s newest book, Southern Interiors: A Celebration of Personal Style by Tori Mellott, invites readers into the private worlds of inspiring creatives across the American South. In this exclusive excerpt, we’re paying a visit to the Charleston home of antiques dealer John Pope to find out what southern living means to him.

• • •

I was born in Missouri, attended Savannah College of Art and Design, and decided to stay in the Low Country and move to Charleston, South Carolina. I live in a building originally constructed in 1849 as the Vigilant Fire Company, one of Charleston’s leading fire department stations. It later became the Maritime Union Hall, then a grocery store. It turned residential in the 1950s, and tile floors and classical woodwork were installed.

The city of Charleston, with its history, architecture, and connection to nature, still holds a sense of place and soul. And the Low Country as a natural environment is unparalleled: From salt marshes and coastal waterways, it is a backdrop that constantly surrounds us here. Rising and falling tides, migrating birds, and the sunrises and sunsets are a calming force in a busy world.

In the foyer, a framed 19th-century Turkish servant’s jacket hangs amid collected objects, including embossed metal tea trays and a specimen marble sampler.

PETER FRANK EDWARDS

Antiquarian John Pope sits in his book-lined living room by a table inset with marble specimens.

PETER FRANK EDWARDS

A 19th-century French portrait of a North African man takes pride of place in the den, surrounded by 18th-century English Delftware and Indian and Moroccan tea trays.

PETER FRANK EDWARDS

Tell us about a few of your favorite things in your house.

My collection of grand tour souvenirs is my longest running. It’s turned into a bit of a cabinet of curiosities with antique classical objects, bugs, shells, and dried leaves reminding me of trips or events in my life. I also love the paneled woodwork in the house and the tile floors installed in the ’50s. Though not documented, some historians believe they were designed by iconic local architect Albert Simons, whose office was just down the street. The carved cornices, paneled chimney piece, and bookshelves were all beautifully crafted in Charleston.

A Napoleon II rosewood armchair covered in a jewel-toned moiré sits beside a framed Art Deco pen-and-ink drawing and a kilim-covered Parsons bench.

PETER FRANK EDWARDS

Pope’s burgeoning collection of Grand Tour souvenirs includes malachite objects and obelisks and marble busts.

PETER FRANK EDWARDS

What defines Southern living for you?

Entertaining and hospitality. They influence our design and decoration, especially in creating flexible spaces with lots of extra seating that’s easy to pull up and rearrange: stools, benches, garden seats. I usually leave my dining table small for more intimate dinners, but it can expand to seat 12. In the winter, having lunch or dinner in front of the fire at the marble-top table in the living room is a highlight. My bar is always set, stocked, and ready, with everything at my fingertips. I just add ice to the bucket and cut some fruit and I’m always ready to entertain.

How has the region shaped your aesthetic?

Southern homes are warm, welcoming, and inviting, with plenty of collected objects that are rich with history. I like my home to tell stories of my travels and things I’ve accumulated along the way. Most of my belongings invoke memories of my adventures.

In the primary bedroom, a woven Guatemalan ikat dresses the canopy of an 18th-century English bed, which in turn is outfitted with a lush Suzani.

PETER FRANK EDWARDS

What role do you think character plays in Southern houses?

Southern homes can be formal yet relaxed; elegant but not staid. They don’t take themselves too seriously, and they’ll mix the high and the low in the same space, which lets you be surrounded by beautiful objects and still feel comfortable. Some of the floor tiles in my house are loose—they click and clatter. I’ve considered having them fixed, but there’s something charming about the noise. I can tell where my dog is in the hallway by the sound of the clacks.

A Maison Jansen side table holds military epaulets.

PETER FRANK EDWARDS

Iranian pottery and heirloom rosaries sit on an Indian tray table.

PETER FRANK EDWARDS

This story originally appeared in Southern Interiors: A Celebration of Personal Style. Learn more here.

The post A 19th-Century Fire Station Becomes an Antiques Dealer’s Elegantly Curated Home appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

Tour a Nashville Home With Sophisticated Holiday Style

Jill Simpson — Mon, 23 Dec 2024 18:35:42 +0000

Interior designers Ann Shipp and Roger Higgins met in design school 30 years ago. They found their skills and talents complemented each other’s well—in both work (at their firm, R. Higgins Interiors) and life. Their current home was an erstwhile 1950s ranch house in the Belle Meade neighborhood of Nashville that they dramatically transformed into a gracious, spacious home. At Christmastime, the home’s sophisticated palette of taupes, creams, and gray-blues with pops of chartreuse is the perfect backdrop for lush green garlands and wreaths, accents of gold, and a tree with shimmering glass ornaments. “We don’t use anything with too much color—it’s pretty much green, white, and brown” says Shipp of their holiday palette.

Their most-used and most-loved room is the library/den, where they opened up the nine-foot ceilings to create a wood-paneled, barrel-vaulted ceiling that echoes the golden leather of the antique books lining shelves, making the room exceptionally warm and inviting. The existing slate floor “was something I wanted to save, and it prompted the color palette,” says Higgins, inspiring the rich blue-gray wrapping the walls, millwork, and curtains.

“I like to do dining room walls in a deep color because I think it enhances the intimacy,” says Higgins of these charcoal walls, accented with a chartreuse tablecloth. He painted the large artwork himself “in about 30 seconds” before a dinner party.

Through years of doing Christmas decorations for their clients, Higgins and Shipp have learned many tips and tricks. “I love the smell of fresh greenery,” says Higgins, but given the length of the holiday season, “I like using things that will hold up and look good, but I don’t want it to look fake.” Their secret: “We mix different types of greenery together and then add real pinecones.” Join Higgins and Shipp on this inspiring tour of a home that shines at the holidays—and year-round.

The post Tour a Nashville Home With Sophisticated Holiday Style appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

McKenzie Dove’s Birmingham Home Is a Work of Art

Isabel Molster — Thu, 19 Dec 2024 23:26:07 +0000

You could call McKenzie Dove a painter; her Cy Twombly-esque abstract art and impasto-layered oils are her claim to fame and the genius loci of an avid Instagram following. But you could also call her a sculptor. Or a floral arranger. Definitely a craft-cocktail concocter. Probably an industrial designer. And most certainly a decorator.

Raised in rural Texas by parents whose child-rearing skills can politely be described as off-kilter, Dove’s formal education stopped at the third grade (stay tuned—she’s working on a memoir). Her freewheeling girlhood—riding horseback to the local Sonic for cherry limeades, staging a wedding for her agility-trained bunnies, staying up way past other people’s bedtimes to rearrange the furniture in her room for the hundred-and-tenth time—was fecund ground for the kind of eccentricity that giddyups right past boundaries and lets curiosity lead the way to divine its own idiosyncratic taste.

The conservatory in Dove’s studio has brick floors “worn out in the most amazing way.” Dove juxtaposed them with florid gilt Baroque-style consoles she patinated, then topped with her own plaster sculptures.

Paul Costello

Dove at work painting an abstract canvas in her storefront studio in Lakeview, a five-minute drive from her home in Birmingham, Alabama.

Paul Costello

“Art has always been a part of my life,” says Dove, who recently uncovered a pair of sketchbooks she kept in her tweens, one entirely devoted to floor plans (“They were actually pretty good”) and another to a lighting line she branded “Sophie.” Never a stranger to a hands-on approach, she was given a crowbar for her 12th birthday. “I’ve been a collector since I was 13,” says Dove: When she married her husband Michael and moved with him cross-country at age 24 so he could finish medical school, a full-on semi-trailer truck was required to port all her stuff.

The capacious studio includes an office, a sewing loft, and dedicated spaces for painting, carpentry, welding, and plasterwork. Dove found the vintage leather-and-steel slingback chair outside of a barn in Kentucky, where she once lived.

Paul Costello

The terra-cotta floors in the studio’s conservatory seemed to practically call out for an array of potted plants. “It reminded me of an Italian palazzo,” she says—a note she subtly underscored with antique Italian garden chairs around the Drexel Heritage table.

Paul Costello

Sounds like she’d be a clutter-monger, right? In actual practice, her aesthetic is almost ascetic in its restraint, as evidenced by the Birmingham, Alabama, house she now shares with Michael and their one-year-old son, Liam. Built in 1950, it had most recently been renovated in the ’90s; the Doves spent three years stripping away the later additions to recapture its original character.

Traditional upholstered seating (including a pair of vintage armchairs slipcovered in Schumacher’s Gweneth linen) and one of Dove’s giant-scaled triptychs creates an electric grouping in the studio office. Wire-framed Bertoia chairs sidle up to a 1920s Italian table Dove uses as a workstation.

Paul Costello

In the foyer, plaster furnishings she crafted herself—a modernist angled library table, a neoclassical urn, and nubby pendant lamp—are carefully arrayed like an installation near one of her oils and a painted gilt armchair covered in gently worn verdigris velvet she scored at an estate sale. “The way you have to understand composition and negative space as an artist and a sculptor informs the way I arrange things,” she says. In that same vein, she has a keen eye for how tactility and volume interact: “I could build an entire room of plaster. It has so much texture and richness, but it’s simple and minimal.” (Naturally, she’s at work on a furnishings line featuring her favorite medium.)

The view of the foyer from the piano room in her home, where the Doves host dinner parties for larger groups, reveals toned-down parquet floors inspired by Versailles and an antique urn that once graced a chateau near the French palace. Dove’s Syros plaster pendant hangs above her Cinq II hexagonal center table.

Paul Costello

In her home’s dining room, Dove painted an ethereal mural to accentuate—but not overpower—the lush view of trees outside the windows. The chinoiserie china cabinet—filled with heirlooms the Doves use every day—is in lively conversation with both the antique carriage-house lantern and the vintage leather-wrapped Cassina chairs. Curtains in Schumacher’s Greek Key Embroidery fabric.

Paul Costello

The plaster console in the living room is a prototype; Dove wanted to use it in her own home for at least five years to make sure it could stand up to the wear and tear of everyday life (mission accomplished). The Louis XVI table is from Chairish, and the oil paintings both on the table and in the foyer are works by Dove.

Paul Costello

As with her paintings, Dove prefers tone-on-tone color schemes when it comes to interiors. “A lot of stark contrast throws me off. That’s why I love flowers, because I can have a hit of color when I want it, but I don’t have to be married to it,” she explains. A devoted accumulator, her basic building blocks are vintage pieces and antiques. They don’t have to be blue-chip—though that helps—but they do have to have a sinuous quality that gives them the gravitas to stand on their own, whether that’s a sculptural scroll-arm recamier covered in plainspoken white linen in her living room, a sleekly swooping leather-and-steel sling chair in her studio gallery (a five-minute drive from her home), or a delightfully patinated cane-backed Louis XVI armchair in Liam’s room, of all places.

Yes, that’s Louis XVI for a toddler. The nursery is a microcosm of Dove’s approach. With crisp, fresh, mineral-and-white-striped textiles and an unapologetic embrace of adult-worthy pieces—the other hero is a bleached Provençal commode with beautifully book-matched drawer fronts—it avoids all the saccharine clichés of babies’ rooms but is still irresistibly sweet. An insouciantly upholstered ottoman with swishy ruffles helps calibrate the push-pull between the exalted and the charming, as does a screen that seems salvaged from some sunbaked mas but was actually made by Michael. (“I bought the caning off Etsy,” adds Dove.)

Dove lined the interiors of the canopy curtains in the primary bedroom with Schumacher’s Bassano Embroidered Toile. She loved the pattern’s richness and texture, but since it’s not “out in the room,” it doesn’t overpower the serene vibe. The bedcoverings and exterior curtains are in Lange Glazed Linen with Dominique Linen Tape trim, both by Schumacher.

Paul Costello

In son Liam’s room, a sisal rug is a grounding influence that unites a range of antiques, including a bleached Provençal commode and an Italian daybed the one-year-old will grow into. The ottoman, covered in Schumacher’s Regatta Linen Stripe to match the daybed and curtains, pleats and puddles generously, lending a blowsy touch.

Paul Costello

It is the ethos of a particularly sophisticated brand of do-it-yourselfer, who dreams up an idea—say, a powdery white pendant chandelier with an overscale hobnail motif like Diego Giacometti’s and Jean-Michel Frank’s modernist-primitivist love child—and thinks nothing of rolling up her sleeves to create it. Dove’s studio-slash-gallery-slash-office has plenty of space for her to paint, but is also equipped with welding, carpentry, and plaster workshops; for her, it is all one big, balletic think tank. “Most interior designers are probably artists and most artists would probably be good interior designers,” she says. “It’s life-giving for me to go back and forth between media. Today plaster might be my favorite thing and then I’ll spend days building a table and get dusty and burned out, so I’ll go back to oil painting and when I get tired of that, I’ll think about flowers or decorating.”

Multidisciplined multitasking in the service of living your best life? Seems like the very highest form of art.

THIS ARTICLE ORIGINALLY APPEARED IN VOLUME 14 OF FREDERIC MAGAZINE. CLICK HERE TO SUBSCRIBE!

The post McKenzie Dove’s Birmingham Home Is a Work of Art appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

Marea Clark Designs a Cozy Southampton Home for All Seasons

Jill Simpson — Thu, 12 Dec 2024 22:37:51 +0000

The post Marea Clark Designs a Cozy Southampton Home for All Seasons appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

Tour a Mindfully Restored 1850s Greek Revival Near Charleston

Martha Moskowitz — Tue, 10 Dec 2024 17:10:53 +0000

The post Tour a Mindfully Restored 1850s Greek Revival Near Charleston appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

Designer Katie Ridder Brings a Joyful, Scandinavian Twist to a New York Apartment

Jill Simpson — Fri, 06 Dec 2024 20:54:50 +0000

The post Designer Katie Ridder Brings a Joyful, Scandinavian Twist to a New York Apartment appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

Tour Designer Paloma Contreras’s Garden-Hued Houston Home

Jill Simpson — Tue, 26 Nov 2024 19:39:32 +0000

The post Tour Designer Paloma Contreras’s Garden-Hued Houston Home appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

Tour an American Farmhouse That’s a Design Travelogue

Jill Simpson — Thu, 21 Nov 2024 20:39:27 +0000

The post Tour an American Farmhouse That’s a Design Travelogue appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

A 1960s Houston House Gets a Refresh to Match Its Owners’ Youthful Energy

Jill Simpson — Thu, 31 Oct 2024 21:01:39 +0000

The post A 1960s Houston House Gets a Refresh to Match Its Owners’ Youthful Energy appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

Tour Courtnay Daniels and Gil Schafer’s Serene Maine Escape

Jill Simpson — Wed, 23 Oct 2024 18:59:15 +0000

The post Tour Courtnay Daniels and Gil Schafer’s Serene Maine Escape appeared first on Frederic Magazine.

Forty Years of Friendship—and Decorating—Fill a Historic Virginia Farm

Emma Bazilian — Tue, 22 Oct 2024 17:36:41 +0000

I can’t tell you offhand just how many houses I’ve had (could it be eight?), but I’ve only had one decorator: Richard Keith Langham, who I met in 1985. Forty years later, our collaboration persists, much to our mutual frustration. (Like Nancy Lancaster and John Fowler, we are the unhappiest unmarried couple around.) But we’ve managed to concoct some really handsome and comfortable rooms, and, I’ll admit, even had some good times along the way.

Marable and Langham found the Regency giltwood mirror at Twig in Tetbury, England; the Klismos chair comes from antiques dealer (and another close friend of Marable’s) Gerald Bland.

Francesco Lagnese

Winnie, one of Marable’s three black Labradors (“they’re the size of Black Angus cattle,” jokes Langham), awaits visitors.

Francesco Lagnese

The property on which Shadwell sits was originally purchased in 1736 by Thomas Jefferson’s father, Peter Jefferson, and is the birthplace of the former president.

Francesco Lagnese

Looking back, it seems like my life has gone from pillar to post and back again. Petersburg, Virginia, was my birthplace; the handsome house in which I grew up was a wedding present to my grandparents from my great-grandmother. My mother lived there her entire life. Under her reign, upkeep was not exactly a priority, and renovations were sorely needed; like a weathered beauty, the house looked best in candlelight. At my mother’s funeral in the packed living room, I remember Keith whispered to me, “These walls groan for money.”

Luckily, by that time, my own walls were not groaning. I had a big job in New York and a beautiful jewel box of an apartment overlooking the steps of the Met. It consisted of the top floor (formerly the servants’ quarters) of a Beaux Arts townhouse built by the Straus family of Macy’s. (Tragically, the couple perished on the Titanic in 1912.) The floor had not been inhabited since the 1940s, which made the restoration hell, but well worth it, thanks to Keith.

Festoon curtains in a magenta Tillett Textiles linen printed with bold eggplant stripes set the tone for the dining room. The walls, painted in All White by Farrow & Ball, are accented with a stripe of Brinjal at the top and beneath the chair rail. Above the mantel hangs a portrait of English poet Thomas Chatterton.

Francesco Lagnese

Every summer, the living room sofa and club chairs (“made four or five houses ago”) get a warm-weather makeover in duck-egg-blue linen slipcovers. Custom linen curtains in acid green—a favorite color of Marable’s—pop against walls in Farrow & Ball’s Hague Blue.

Francesco Lagnese

Sans slipcovers, the furniture shows off its original upholstery: a burnt-sugar linen velvet on the sofa, and a Tree of Life print by Claremont on the chairs. The lacquered coffee table is from And George in nearby Charlottesville; the Italian carved mirrors were purchased at Gerald Bland Inc.; pendant light, Colefax & Fowler.

Francesco Lagnese

Still, I found myself yearning for bucolic Virginia. I bought my first farm, Lovell, near the little town of Rapidan. The stately Jeffersonian (c. 1840) was situated on a knoll with huge trees, and I wasted no time in restoring it. A few years later, I decided to give up Wall Street and live there full-time. It turned out that farm life was not all it was cracked up to be, and it became evident that I needed a job. Washington, D.C., and a new business venture were to be my next stop.

That venture was with Jane Stubbs, a most extraordinary woman. We re-created her inimitable New York shop, Stubbs Books & Prints, on bustling Wisconsin Avenue in Georgetown. She tutored me in books, Madison Cox generously planned the garden, and Keith moved my Lovell library—lock, stock and curtains—to the new shop. I sold out-of-print books and anything else library-related, gave over-the-top book parties, and soon it was a great big hit. After six years I closed the shop, relocated to an office, and have been creating private libraries ever since.

Just off the dining room, a cozy alcove (or the properly English “snug,” per Langham) is outfitted with a sofa and custom-colored Adelphi Paper Hangings wallpaper in Marable’s beloved acid green. Ikea bookcases—stacked, embellished with molding, and painted black—create the towering faux built-ins. “It was a Covid project—I couldn’t find anyone to make new bookcases, so I used some that were already in my basement,” says Marable. The Persian Malayer rug was a point of contention between decorator and client; it was Langham who eventually won out. (“We’re both stubborn—we fight like brothers—but somehow it all ends up coming out okay,” he adds.)

Francesco Lagnese

A William IV yew wood pedestal table from Gerald Bland sits in Marable's library, surrounded by a set of Regency ebonized chairs.

Francesco Lagnese

A portrait of an Arabian stallion by John Frederick Herring, Sr., hangs above the William IV rosewood bookcase from Comer & Co.

Francesco Lagnese

In the middle of all of this, I bought the most wonderful small house on Dumbarton Street. A major reconstruction followed. Keith and I did this one up to the nines. Gerry Bland and his wife, Mita, became friends, and I bought some of my best furniture from him.

I’m afraid a pattern began to develop. It shouldn’t be a surprise that several more houses followed. But then Shadwell became available. In 1757, Thomas Jefferson inherited thousands of acres from his father, with Shadwell Farm among the many parcels. In 1841—the 1840s seem to be my zeitgeist—his great-grand-daughter and her husband built a house there. Handsome, symmetrical, and stately, it was constructed with the most beautiful, now mellowed brick, which was kilned on site. It looks big, but it’s just one room deep, with a long central hall and a later addition of the kitchen and pantry—certainly enough room for me, three black labs, one obnoxious cat, and a lot of stuff.

"Shadwell has a dignified presence but is not fancy or twee."

Kinsey Marable

Fourteen years later, Virginia beckoned again. This time, it was a big Federal clapboard house (also c. 1840) in Somerset, gussied up in 1875 in the “Italianate style,” whatever that is. The crash of 2008 soon ensued, so I decided to just fill the new house up with everything from the prior three places. I loved it, but Keith thought it a mess. He turned to me once and yelled, “How in the hell do you even know which house you’re in?”

Marable acquired a number of books from Mario Buatta’s estate after the legendary designer’s passing.

Francesco Lagnese

A John James Audubon reproduction hangs in the living room.

Francesco Lagnese

The miniature horses and carriage were given to Marable, a lifelong equestrian, by his mother on his eighth birthday. The George Stubbs print depicts Gimcrack, a famous 18th-century racehorse.

Francesco Lagnese

A 1920s watercolor, perched in front of an Italian carved and weathered mirror, depicts English foxhunter Hugo Meynell.

Francesco Lagnese

A copy of a René Bouché watercolor of writer and society hostess Evangeline Bruce, acquired by Marable when he and Gerald Bland hosted an exhibition of the contents of Bruce’s Georgetown house.

Francesco Lagnese

Keith and I did and then re-did. The living room became the dining room, the library the living room. The dining table seats 12 uncomfortably, in the Marable way. (Copious glasses of wine quickly ease the pain.) The adjacent sitting room has my favorite Adelphi paper, custom colored by Keith. The rug is Persian, forced on me by the decorator, and I loathe it.

While the dining room is in constant play—I think I’ve painted it at least seven or eight times—the living room has remained true to its Hague Blue walls. Keith had all the sofas and club chairs made in New York for my previous houses; some have since been reupholstered, while others wear slipcovers in the summer months. Above the mantel is an immense portrait of an Arabian horse, painted in 1801 for Lady Byron’s father.

Langham cloaked the primary bedroom in a paper-backed linen windowpane found in New York’s Garment District. “It reminds me of a men’s haberdasher,” he adds. The 19th-century English painted bed was a spur-of-the-moment purchase from Sotheby’s Mario Buatta sale.

Francesco Lagnese

“I don’t really wear ties anymore, so I just hang my favorites on a chest in my dressing room,” says Marable.

Francesco Lagnese

The guest room is dressed in a vintage floral chintz by Ramm, Son & Crocker.

Francesco Lagnese

My bedroom is my refuge. The star is the elegant Regency bed. It was a last-minute purchase from the Mario Buatta auction at Sotheby’s. While on the phone waiting for another lot, I had two martinis and went for it.

Shadwell has a dignified presence but is not fancy or twee. All my furniture finally lives so well here, and my prints and paintings— a combination of inheritances, purchases, and generous gifts—have never looked better than they do on these walls. After a peripatetic journey, I think I have found my soul mate. This old, graceful house is full of character and personality, with a pedigree above reproach. If only I could say the same for myself!

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