THIS WEEK, “The Insider,” my every-Thursday column on Brownstoner.com, features a duplex apartment in an 1850s Brooklyn brownstone that takes a mad romp around the color wheel, combining furnishings ranging from Victoriana (hers) to mid-century modern (his).
To see more than a dozen photos of the place in all its unconventional glory, go right here.
I HAVE IT ON GOOD, IF THIRD-HAND, AUTHORITY — from the friend of a friend of a friend — that the 1970s modernist gem, above, on Hog Creek in Springs, N.Y. is highly, highly negotiable. I think the place is pretty fabulous in a Hamptons kind of way, harking back to the boom building years of the 1970s and ’80s.
Cube-like, cedar-sided houses with expansive decks like this one are more common near the ocean, in the former potato fields south of Montauk Highway, than they are here, five miles north of said highway, where the beaches are those of unspoiled and uncrowded Gardiner’s Bay.
So I was sitting at one of those beaches the other evening, watching the sun set and running my mouth to a friend about how I’d still love to trade in my cute ’40s cottage for either an old farmhouse or a place with some kind, any kind, of water view.
My friend said she knew of a house nearby that was still on the market after a year, and that the owner, now elderly and fed up with it all, was very eager to sell. She put in a call to her friend — the friend of the owner — who gave us the address. “It’s a square box,” he said dismissively, and we went off to look at it with low hopes.
In fact, I found the house — on 2/3 of a wooded acre, with frontage and a boat launch on Hog Creek, above, which leads into Gardiner’s Bay — very attractive. I have no objection at all to the architecture. I like its symmetry, proportions, and wraparound decks. We couldn’t access the upper deck, which would have provided a better view of the creek, but peered into the windows of the three bedrooms on the lower level.
Pay no attention to the original ask of 825K. I’m given to understand an offer of 500K would not be unreasonable under the circumstances. The house is part of the Lion’s Head neighborhood association, with its own bayfront marina and beach, a mile or so north of Maidstone.
The house is not for me, after all; I’d still rather have a 19th century farmhouse. But I can’t help fantasizing furniture from Design Within Reach (or its ilk), rya rugs, super-graphics on the walls, great modern lighting.
For those who embrace such a vision, the listing, with interior photos, is here.
Eames rockers, Danish ant chairs at Bright Lyons
ATLANTIC AVENUE LIVES. There’s been a flurry of activity recently, including the avenue’s latest store, the month-old Bright Lyons, in a sleek new storefront between Hoyt and Bond. The focus is on the mighty mid-century furniture companies Herman Miller and Knoll — of the same general ilk as the stuff at Design Within Reach, except here it’s the real, period thing, much more varied, and at prices that rival or beat DWR’s.
Below: Paul Bright, proprietor, right, with fellow mid-century design enthusiast, George Gilpin
Below: World’s most comfortable seating, Charles Eames’ rosewood lounge chair and ottoman in white leather, $3,700
I had popped in there looking for a credenza for my bedroom — yes, another one, this time for office supplies and files.
At Bright Lyons, I found the perfect piece for my purposes, above, a 7-foot-long Knoll-esque white laminate unit with tubular chrome legs and chrome handles on four sliding doors (and didn’t even mind coughing up $1,100 for it — anything to get rid of those plastic bins). It fits practically to the inch under my large bedroom window and looks smashing against the orange wall.
Meanwhile, I met the knowledgeable Paul Bright, the store’s owner, who has a long history buying and selling vintage mid-century furniture. Most recently, he had an art gallery in Toronto, and he’s brought contemporary paintings down to the Brooklyn store, where their wild colors and detailed imagery play off the pared-down simplicity of the furniture designs. Paul has big plans for the future, including an all-Alexander Girard exhibition in May — Girard being the textile designer at Herman Miller in the 1950s and ’60s, whose exuberant patterns melded folk tradition with the optimistic spirit of the times. Bright has been stockpiling Girard textiles, like the yardage below, in anticipation of May’s event.
Check it out, by all means.
Bright Lyons is at 383 Atlantic Avenue in Boerum Hill, Brooklyn, 718/855 5463.
THE SITUATION IS DIRE: 11 cartons and 8 plastic bins, holding a lifetime’s worth of family photos, children’s artwork, published and unpublished writing, already pared down to what I consider essentials. Sitting out on the floor of my bedroom in piles, they do not attractive decor make.
And on the other side of the room…
Unless I get some kind of giant credenza, armoire, cabinet, or other closed storage piece –– and I have a 6-1/2-foot wide alcove just waiting to receive one — there’s no point even painting the walls (just as well, since I haven’t decided what color to paint them).
Here’s where I’ve looked:
Today, nearing my wit’s end, I checked out a place I’d read about somewhere: Trailer Park, on Sterling Place near 6th Avenue in Park Slope, above, which sells vintage furniture as well as custom pieces made of reclaimed barn wood. The place is so full of the very stuff I used to collect — ’50s lamps, vintage tablecloths, American art pottery — I couldn’t believe I’d never known about it. I brightly asked the fellow in the shop, “How long have you been here?” thinking surely he’d reply, “We just opened last month.” He said, “Oh, about thirteen years.” And I thought I knew Brooklyn!
I admired the 1970s German science posters ($150) and checked out the other offerings closely, but the pieces made of recycled barn lumber by Amish woodworkers, above, were too plain and stolid for me, and the large armoires more than I wanted to spend (about $1,600) — and they didn’t happen to have any vintage ones on hand.
So on I went to Re-Pop on Washington Avenue near the Brooklyn Navy Yard, first perusing their website and zeroing in on a couple of mid-20th century credenzas — not a style I was tending toward, I’m pretty done with that — although in my present circumstances, the main thing is to get something that fits, dammit, so I can start unpacking these boxes before my lease is up.
It was also my first-ever visit to Re-Pop, above, which has been in business about four years, and my first time in that area — Clinton Hill East? — in ages. So it was a revelation to see that the proximity of the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway is no longer a deal-breaker when it comes to luxury apartments. 275 Park Avenue, right under the BQE, is a converted 19th century chocolate factory, a distinguished brick building that now houses an organic market, Fresh Fanatic, below, and a Mexican restaurant, Mojito, on the ground floor. I can’t tell you how incongruous I find the gentrification of these blocks in the shadow of the BQE. I once considered them irredeemable — but I was wrong about that, too, apparently.
Re-Pop is stuffed with vintage modern furniture at good prices, chosen with a keen eye for mostly non-pedigreed but stylish designs. They have a load of kitschy ’50s lamps, all with original shades. I seriously considered two pieces, each under $600: a long, low credenza of good shape and size, but I didn’t love it as a piece of furniture, and an unusual blonde wood 9-drawer dresser, but I don’t need a 9-drawer dresser.
So I came away without that vital storage piece, but not empty-handed. See my new lamp, below. It works beautifully in the living room, and actually provides enough illumination for reading.
IN MY QUEST for a storage solution for the boxes of files and photos presently stacked in the bedroom of my new Brooklyn apartment, I found FIND, a sprawling home-furnishings warehouse hiding in plain sight across from the Lowe’s parking lot in Gowanus. (They’ve been open since ’09, but I was out of town for a year-and-a-half, so it’s new to me.)
The place has an eclectic, even schizophrenic quality, stuffed as it is with wares from every corner of the world. The bulk of it is similar to what you might find at Bloomingdale’s: traditional overstuffed sofas upholstered in beige linen, farmhouse tables, wood armoires. That’s not the part that interested me.
I was drawn to a narrow strip of stuff they’re phasing out, apparently, leftovers from a big sale they had a couple of weekends ago: vintage glass-door cabinets with multi-tone paint jobs, surrounded by brass lamps, poufs, and mirrors straight out of a Moroccan bazaar.
The cabinets look like they’ve been artfully distressed (perhaps even naturally distressed in some cases) and have a cottage-y look, very like rustic American painted furniture of the 1930s and earlier. Except they’re made of teak, mostly, and were imported, I’m told, from India.
Some of them have fanciful moldings. One of the more massive cabinets — 42″ wide and 2 feet deep — is on chunky wooden wheels, inset into the frame.
The smaller pieces — medicine-chest size — are priced around $150; humongous ones range from $400 to $900, with local delivery thrown in. Alas, nothing I saw was quite right, functionally. I have a 6-1/2-foot-wide alcove I hope to fill with one large storage piece, and the cabinets I liked at FIND tend to the tall and narrow. Or else they had glass panes, and the idea is to have hidden storage.
Still, when this bargain-hunting veteran of the interior design/home furnishings scene sees something as unusual as these Indian imports, she takes notice.
FIND is at 59 9th Street, Brooklyn 11215; 718/369-2705.
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