Part 8 — How A House Works

Another example can be titled “Greenwich Village Condo”. My dear friend Shoshana purchased a two bedroom apartment in an 1880’s six-story building a few years ago. She has immaculate taste, and spent the following two years on a

major remodel.

Much of her furniture collection is from the Arts and Crafts movement and fits perfectly within the interior. The remaining pieces were custom built and also period specific. She commissioned a very talented muralist to create an amazing

William Morris

inspired hand-painted wallpaper environment in the formal dining room. Its dark purple and gold color scheme beautifully compliments the original oak wainscoting. Her idiosyncratic contemporary art collection adds an interesting touch to the interior, especially when the works are hung from brass picture railings. I have stayed here many times, and am trying to remember the original insecurity of dislocation insights, but even upon multiple visits I have noticed a few small issues.

Let’s begin in the kitchen. Shoshana worked with a brilliant carpenter to design and construct the custom cabinetry. The ceilings are quite high, so there was ample room to exploit this built-in element.

Carrara marble

countertops excellently compliment the painted cabinetry in what I would call a sort of “Capri Grotto” celeste blue, accented again with high quality brass hardware. Not exactly period specific, but who even wants to think about adhering to 1880’s kitchen technology! Which brings me to the first micro-aggression. The lower cabinets contain several different shelving and hinge options, one of which is a cleverly hidden wooden face upon the dishwasher. Its hinges are of course on the bottom, and for some unknown reason, require frequent access?

Or who knows why?

But the decision was made to adhere the beautifully painted and expensive looking baseboard with magnets! Almost every morning I stumble into the room focused solely on the coffee machine and kick the damn thing off, creating a disturbing racket and throwing my nerves into a state. The first time it happened I of course thought I had broken some expensive piece of something. I didn’t know how to reattach it, and it took several anxiety-filled minutes to realize the goddamn thing was designed this way! Not how you want to start your day! I realize this is a rather extreme example but point it out precisely to remind you, dear reader, that these seemingly inconsequential design decisions can produce troubling consequences. Typically the aggressions are more subtle. Sometimes, as I have noted above, they may even go unnoticed by your guest. As the following example illustrates.

In the center of the expertly appointed dining area sits an A.W.N. Pugin designed octagonal gothic revival oak table from 1860. It is surrounded by four equally substantial leather and oak high back chairs that Pugin originally designed for the

House of Commons.

To the north of it, we have a slightly later oak sideboard, also designed by Pugin, that would fit nicely within any stately English country house. The problem is, with all of these elements being slightly over-scale, coupled with the usual clutter of urban apartment dwellings, the arrangement demands poor guest to shuffle sideways through the smallish room. Not necessarily out of fear of scratching the fine wood furnishings, but as an appropriate subconscious response to the environment. The dining room is situated between the kitchen and the rest of the house, so it is constantly being walked through multiple times per day. What, you may ask, is so offensive about turning your body a few degrees as you slide past these museum-quality appointments? It may even be a clever device employed by the homeowner to encourage viewer’s attention, using similar tactics of the

English roundabout,

designed to make us slow down and look closely. Possibly. And if so….voilá.

But if that is not your intention, let’s think about ways to correct this subtle manipulation. Even if the square room in theory demands absolute symmetry, I would argue that a slight adjustment of the center table, and possibly situating one of the chairs in a corner could provide a suitable pathway to flow through the room unencumbered. As stated above, this is quite a subtle impression, and the first few times I walked through, I didn’t notice. This example illustrates the thought that the

micro-aggression

need not always be unfavorable, but allows us to consider the TYPE of experience we are curating. Sometimes, we may want to create a slight frisson in our environments. Withal, this can be dangerous territory even for the bold at heart, so be forewarned and proceed with caution!