A family friend visited shortly after their new house was completed. “She looked around,” recalls the owner, “then she asked me, ‘So, what kind of style is this?’
‘Mine,’ I told her with a shrug of uncertainty.” A stronger testament to the success of a project would be hard to script. It underscores the fact not only that the house doesn’t conform to any familiar design categories but also that the owner sees it as an authentic expression of herself and her husband—both of whom would as soon kayak or backcountry ski as attend a black-tie gala.
Set on a rocky point overlooking Long Island Sound, the house was conceived from the get-go to respect its surroundings—to be “grand” in the sense of bighearted rather than fancy. Designer Ellie Cullman of Cullman & Kravis Associates and architect David Scott Parker both knew this would mean giving the house its own idiosyncratic design language, the better to address its subtle mixture of aesthetic paradoxes. Among them: “The clients are basically modernists, but they wanted the warmth and coziness of a traditional house,” says Cullman.
To that end, the architecture and the interiors are rooted in what Parker calls a sense of materiality. “We talked from the beginning about the honest beauty of materials like timber, stone, lime plaster, and bronze.” These elements, pure and largely unadorned, repeat throughout the house: The bronze of the window frames, for example, is echoed in hand-forged chandeliers and stair railings, sculptures and table bases, and even furnishings such as the dining room credenza and the pair of tables by artist Ingrid Donat that flanks the entrance to the living room.
Yet this restraint with materials is offset by an easy eclecticism when mixing antique and vintage items with contemporary craft. In the living room, for instance, two 19th-century Chinese console tables find harmony with a Royère lamp and a Frank Lloyd Wright desk. In the family room, a bespoke contemporary “puzzle table” composed of interlocking blocks of bronze and wood anchors a seating arrangement that includes Nakashima stools, a pair of Paolo Buffa armchairs, and a table by Axel Einar Hjorth.
Throughout the house, floors are covered with rugs inspired by early 20th-century Swedish designs (the husband hails from Scandinavia). “We did a deep dive into Swedish rug history,” says Cullman, then replicated its motifs. “The original rugs were very small, and these rooms are quite large,” she notes. “Since we had to reweave the rugs anyway, we altered the colors to suit the clients’ tastes.”
That meant incorporating a lot of reds and browns. Though not typically associated with modernism, red is the client’s favorite color, and its elemental strength lends a kind of grounded clarity to the house’s public rooms, including the mudroom and kitchen, both paneled in red-painted wood. “This was our first red kitchen ever. We were so excited!” says Cullman, whose 40 years as a luminary in the design world is celebrated in the new book Cullman & Kravis Interiors, released in September.
The rooms’ size also guided Cullman and team to seek out chandeliers that suited their scale while balancing their energy. The one in the entry hall has a serpentine presence despite being 12 feet high; the living room chandelier sprawls across multiple beams.
Says Cullman, “We had to figure out how to make it speak to all three of the room’s sitting areas while also engaging the ceiling beams in a sympathetic way and, above all, not interfering with the view.” The solution, by Frederik Molenschot, was a free-form swirl of metal tubing and bubble-shaped luminaires that floats seaweed-like above the space. “The house’s architecture is fairly masculine,” says Cullman. “Free-form, organic shapes like this chandelier offer a wonderful foil.”
Yet even the loosest, most homespun elements never lapse into nonchalance. “The husband is very precise,” says Parker. “Everything in the house was done with almost aerospace precision. At the same time, a sense of the integrity of the craftsmanship, of the artisan’s hand, was of utmost importance.”
Scientific precision also governs the overall siting of the house, which is shaped like a boomerang and oriented to follow the path of the sun. Easternmost rooms are devoted to intimate family activities (the couple’s three grown children live nearby). Western-facing rooms, like the snug den the owners call “the cave,” are made for more social gatherings. At the pivot point, Parker situated a circular breakfast room, which offers 240-degree views of water and sky.
In ordinary life precision can be accompanied by a sense of rigid persnicketiness. Here, it transcends that fetter, working instead in service of tranquility and ease and in homage to the enchanted setting. As it happens this isn’t the first time this spit of land has cast its spell on the humans who occupy it. Nearly 160 years ago, an artist named John Frederick Kensett propped his easel here and began painting these same views, over and over again. His spare, poetic paintings, some of which now hang in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, exemplify a style called Luminism.
The current residents find themselves no less inspired—though their medium has changed. “I can’t tell you how many photographs my husband and I have taken of the sunrises and sunsets,” says the owner. Despite living in an exquisitely crafted house surrounded by important art and antiques, it’s the ever-changing beauty of nature that leaves her feeling humbled and con tented. “One day’s light and atmosphere is never the same,” she says. “I find it quite moving.”
Sunroom
Relaxed teak and woven seating (Kingsley Bate) invites long afternoons in the sunroom. Lounge chair fabric, Perennials
Dining Room
A walnut and bronze dining table (Walter P. Sauer) was inspired by a Jean-Michel Frank design. Rug, Doris Leslie Blau. Ceiling pendants, Holly Hunt
Family Room
In the family room, a custom Swedish-style rug (Doris Leslie Blau) grounds a contemporary sofa and vintage Paolo Buffa armchairs.
Breakfast Room
A circular breakfast room offers a 240-degree view of the water. Chair fabric, Castel. Lighting, Paul Ferrante
Mudroom
Rustic meets refined in the mudroom with an English Arts and Crafts hammered copper mirror, 1950s Franco Albini chairs, and a walnut-topped storage island.
Guest Bedroom
In a guest bedroom, a linen-upholstered Liaigre bed (fabric, Lisa Fine Textiles) is dressed in percale pillows (E. Braun & Co.) and a Sandra Jordan alpaca blanket. 1930s Danish chandelier, Poul Henningsen for Louis Poulsen
Primary Bathroom
In the primary bath, a 1941 Hans Wegner armchair beckons beneath a cast-bronze chandelier by Hervé Van der Straeten. Drapery fabric, Holly Hunt
Family Powder Room
The woven linen wallcovering’s botanicals, inspired by a 16th-century paper-cut design, are embroidered in the home’s signature red hue (embroidery, Penn & Fletcher; wallcovering, Lewis & Wood). The hand-beaten bronze mirror is by Soane Britain, and the sconce is by The Urban Electric Co.
Featured in our September/October 2024 issue. Interior Design by Cullman & Kravis Associates; Architecture by David Scott Parker; Landscape Design by Janice Parker; Photography by Eric Piasecki; Styling by Stephen Pappas; Written by Celia Barbour.
link