Carl Dellatore & Associates

Writing, editing, and special projects for the design community

Carl Dellatore

Some Thoughts on Nuance

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The sepia mural enveloping this room, designed by Suzanne Rheinstein, was painted by Bob Christian, and the chairs and wooden chimera on the Louis XVI marble mantel are 18th century. The painted, gilded, stained, and waxed wood surfaces and various fabric textures bring a subtle interest to the space; the ceiling was lacquered off-white to reflect light. Photographed by Pieter Estersohn as it appears in “Interior Design Master Class” from Rizzoli, New York.

(WRITTEN FOR AND PUBLISHED BY THE DESIGNERS SOCIETY OF AMERICA)

You would be hard-pressed to open a newspaper or visit an online media outlet without discovering an article about the coming (or already here?) artificial intelligence (AI) revolution. Some praise AI’s problem-solving virtues in medical treatment and data analysis; others warn of impending calamity as malicious actors misuse AI to disrupt communication or further dilute any semblance of privacy we still have.

Consider this: In November 2023, there were no less than 40 stories on AI in The New York Times—covering everything from AI-controlled drones deployed in warzones to AI’s impact on career illustrators whose livelihoods are now threatened by art-generation programs. That latter example brings the point closer to home as we ponder how AI affects architecture and design professionals.

On architecture: An August 2023 piece published in The Guardian, written by Oliver Wainwright and titled “It’s Already Way Beyond What Humans Can Do: Will AI Wipe Out Architects?” takes an in-depth look and the conclusions—some fancied and others already realized—are no less than earth-shaking. AI is altering the future of architecture in unimaginable and revolutionary ways.

As a designer, you may already use generative AI to create 3D models, optimize space planning, or organize floor plans. Machine learning is taking hold, too, with programs that analyze preferences and predict what furniture your client might choose in a given room. And financial analysis programs are quickly-advancing, helping designers improve accuracy, transparency and workflow—all toward maximizing profit margins. Taken together, these advances are changing designer’s lives for the better.

But the questions persist: Will artificial intelligence take over the interior design industry? Or worse, render it obsolete?

The answers, at least in part, can be found in a piece the late designer Suzanne Rheinstein wrote in my book “Interior Design Master Class” on the subject of nuance. Contemplate her paragraph on the elements of a room:

“Assuming the architecture has been attended to, and the preliminary floor plans made, choosing the furniture must be done carefully. When considering pieces old and new, pay attention to finish and textures. The antique chairs I buy often have beautiful old and rubbed (not chipped!) paint with the wood showing through or faded gilt or mellow fruitwood frames, which look very attractive in the same room, with none of them standing out more than another. The tables may be small shapes from Asia, with 40 applied coats of lacquer creating the characteristic soft undulations in the surface. Or it can be a bespoke modern table with a smooth lacquer finish and simple bronze legs. I sometimes order extremely plain tables or desks with very finely woven raffia or glazed linen applied for texture.”

Rheinstein’s operative words are somewhat alliterative—choosing, carefully and considering—but they make an essential point: The devil is in the proverbial details. The nuanced decisions she made during her career elevated her rooms, for which she found herself on the AD 100 and Elle Decor’s A-List year after year. Her carefully honed aesthetic vision gives us insight into the future of design in the age of AI because while it may be true that a software program can choose color palettes or organize floorplans, it’s the nuanced details arrived at through years of experience working as a designer that artificial intelligence misses—at least for now.

I’ve been thinking not about how AI advancements could detrimentally impact the design industry but how the changes might make for better designers.

Hear me out.

While it may be an oversimplification, designers create interiors by identifying aspirations, exerting creativity, and marshaling resources to realize individually tailored spaces for their clients. That statement offers a roadmap.

Thinking about aspiration, the late Steve Jobs had it right: “Don’t give the people what they want; give them what they don’t know they want yet.” Have in-depth conversations with your clients that help you arrive at design solutions beyond your client’s expectations. Regarding creativity, challenge yourself to find furnishings and finishes that set you apart; instead of a showroom piece, scour the local antique shops for something unusual or engage an artisan to make a one-of-a-kind piece. And go the extra mile on installation day—stock the new refrigerator with your client’s favorite champagne or have fresh peonies on the dressing table. Together, these actions will underscore the value of hiring a design professional.

Designers who balance the advantageous aspects of machine learning with an ever-expanding use of their imaginations will continue to succeed far into the future. I’d bet on it.

More Is More Is More: Today’s Maximalist Interiors

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Pattern: Exotic Butterfly in Black, by Josef Frank. Available through Schumacher

Introduction

© Carl Dellatore, September 27th, 2022. Rizzoli New York

What defines maximalism? In the design world, opinions vary greatly. There is one faction that says a level of excess is pivotal. Some suggest that unexpected, often shocking color (or color combinations) should take center stage. Still others believe a mix of patterns to be de rigueur. The list goes on.

As most views about design are ultimately subjective, they are all correct. But no matter its form, maximalism has been with us as long as the decorative arts.

At the turn of the twentieth century, the Breakers, Richard Morris Hunt’s dichotomous seventy-room “cottage” designed for the Vanderbilt family and decorated by the team of Jules Allard and Sons and Ogden Codman Jr., defined Gilded Age maximalism through the use of architectural elements. No expense was spared toward cementing an aura of supreme wealth and status: lavish marbles from Italy, exotic woods and chromatic tiles from far-flung locales, and a stupendous mantel from a French château shipped at great expense for the Breakers library.

Fast-forward to the 1960s and ’70s, when Manhattan society lauded Robert Denning and Vincent Fourcade’s supremely layered rooms focused on opulent furnishings, with every surface adorned: high-gloss lacquered walls, silk damask settees, neo-baroque curtains, delicately pleated custom lampshades, and dyed-to-match passementerie. Their work was described by Architectural Digest’s Mitchell Owens as “magnificent excess” for clients as varied as Henry Kissinger and Oscar de la Renta.

And then there is the present-day decorator Kelly Wearstler’s twenty-first-century maximalism—an interpretation of old Hollywood glamour, conjured not through excess but with grand-scaled patterns, inventive silhouettes, audacious color, and her reverence for all things naturalistic, seeing Mother Nature as the ultimate source of inspiration. 

There is one quality all these incarnations of maximalist design have in common: There must be an element of surprise. Maximalist interiors always create a certain frisson, a sense of amazement, a gleeful jolt for the visitor. When you enter a maximalist room, the question remains, How did the designer ever think of that? To achieve surprise, creativity is a necessity.

Creativity in the decorative arts is expressed in the ability to think outside the oft-clichéd box—to be imaginative, to celebrate curiosity, and to come up with original ideas. It’s the creation of spaces that eclipse the predictable. The ways you’ll find designers expressing their creativity in this book fall into five categories, or chapters: color, elements, pattern, layering, and surfaces.

You’ll find an otherwise austere Manhattan entryway lacquered floor to ceiling in several shades of apple green. There’s a dizzying array of patterns in a Victorian bedroom unified by botanical motifs. You’ll find a carpet woven in an oversize, pixelated garden scene gracing a dining room floor. There’s a visually kinetic black-and-white folding screen in a Palm Springs bedroom. And there are rooms with often discordant objects, layered to perfection through a designer’s vision.

While I’m on the subject of designer vision, it’s important to note that while maximalist interiors often appear busy at first glance, there’s always a wealth of knowledge and experience that serve as the underpinnings in visually demonstrative spaces. Designers know there is a difference between curated and cluttered rooms. 

For example, interior designers understand the subtle ways to link the objects in a room to form a narrative, telling a story as the eye lands on each element and then moves to the next. An understanding of color theory is key, as when pairing complementary hues—burnished terra-cotta balanced by just the right shade of teal. And of course, there’s the interplay of silhouettes, with a feminine, curvaceous chair juxtaposed against the ridged angles of a Jean-Michel Frank sofa. 

Maximalism as a design movement is very much in vogue. Perhaps it’s our twenty-first-century wish to feel bright and celebratory; perhaps it’s the antidote to decades of midcentury-inflected minimalism; or perhaps it’s the influence of social media platforms, specifically Instagram.

As a lifelong student of design, I’m always curious to learn the “why” behind the choices made in crafting maximalist interiors. That brings me to the final component of this book: insight from the designers. I’ve interviewed the designers for each image in this book, writing the captions in close consultation with them to share their process for achieving the marvelously alchemical success of each space. Through their words, you will see each room and gain insight into their aesthetic vision. From these words and images, you will be able to channel their knowledge as thrilling inspiration for the decoration of your own home. As imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, please borrow some ideas from this book. I know I intend to!

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More Is More Is More: Color

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Pattern: Dawnridge in Peacock, by Cristina Buckley. Available through Schumacher

COLOR ~ From the book More Is More Is More: Today’s Maximalist Interiors

© Carl Dellatore, September 27th, 2022. Rizzoli New York

Lush color is the key to maximalism, as is a willingness to split with established color theory. And don’t forget to add in an unbridled dose of creativity. Along with pattern and silhouette, color makes up the triad of the foundational elements in maximalist design. One might argue that color is the most important of the three.

Historically speaking, there are countless design luminaries who understood and employed a rich, maximalist approach to color in their work. Perhaps the best example is high-society designer Dorothy Draper and her landmark decoration of the Greenbrier hotel in White Sulphur Springs, West Virginia. Her brazen use of green, juxtaposed against red, reinvented a color combination that was once relegated to the end-of-year holiday season. And let’s not forget the boisterous mix of shades she conjured for each of the Greenbrier’s bedroom suites: yellow curtains against pink ceilings against red upholstery against teal-striped walls, plus riotous floral bedspreads for good measure! 

And it’s impossible not to remember Billy Baldwin’s decoration of legendary fashion editor Diana Vreeland’s living room, affectionately dubbed the “garden in hell.” Published in Architectural Digest in the September/October 1975 issue, the crimson-clad salon, with its floral chintz–lined walls and matching curtains, most certainly set a few dinner-party conversations ablaze with its unabashed flair. 

Other notable rooms with a maximalist approach to color include Albert Hadley’s legendary brass-lined oxblood library for Brooke Astor with its iconic La Portugaise chintz upholstery; Virginia-born tastemaker Nancy Lancaster’s drawing room on London’s Avery Row, with its walls sheathed in her famous “buttah-yellah” shade of yellow paint and festooned with corn-silk curtains; and Mark Hampton’s brownish black–walled library for Sue and Haydn Cutler, in Fort Worth, Texas, set off in sharp contrast by crisp white furniture and a neutral sisal rug. Even today, these rooms look bold and eye-catching. It’s obvious why they’ve earned a place in the annals of color-referenced design history. 

Interior Design by LA-based Kevin Isbell ~ Photography by Annie Schlechter

Today, as a culture we’ve pivoted to the eye-popping, kaleidoscopic, color-rich spaces that define contemporary maximalism. This all invites the question, How do I incorporate maximalist color in my home?

Esteemed interior designer Robert Couturier once told me, “I think the basics about color are like grammar: You need to learn it; you need to absorb it. And then you need to forget it. Taking risks with choosing color is key.”

Taking risks, indeed. As you turn the pages to enjoy the many glorious rooms included in this chapter, you will see designers pushing the limits with color, such as a living room inventively striped in vertical bands of progressive hues, drawing your eye around the space, or a room lacquered in a rich marine blue set off by a mix of eggplant-purple and lime-green furniture. Taking risks with assertive color creates one-of-a-kind spaces that catch the eye and delight the visitor. 

How do you know if you’ve landed on the best color, or color combination? I respectfully defer to the aforementioned Dorothy Draper, who famously said, “If it looks right, it is right!”

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More Is More Is More: Elements

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Pattern: Idris Embroidery in Navy and Multi. Available through Schumacher

ELEMENTS ~ From the book More Is More Is More: Today’s Maximalist Interiors

© Carl Dellatore, September 27th, 2022. Rizzoli New York

There are times when a maximalist interior is defined by a singular element, challenging the typical maximalist convention of a densely populated room that combines a myriad of finishes and furnishings. In these unique spaces, paradoxically speaking, less can be maximalist too. On the other hand, there are rooms where a single design element is used multiple times—either densely populated in one area or scattered throughout—adding visual interest and maximalist flair. However a potent element is utilized, it can carry a space, becoming a focal point that punctuates a room in a superlative way. 

As a rule of thumb, using an element or elements in a maximalist manner can be successfully achieved in three primary ways: through the manipulation of scale; through the singularity of an element; and, in the case of collections, through repetition.

On the subject of scale, I’m reminded of what legendary designer Juan Montoya wrote on the subject in my book Interior Design Master Class: “Create a focal point from the best pieces you can muster. Dare to be imposing. Even a small room may take on majesty if one orchestrates, sparingly, significant pieces within it: large in size, superb in style, and high in quality.”

Interior Design by Alexander Doherty ~ Photography by Marius Chira/Instagram @marius.dof

Several rooms in this chapter exemplify the ideas Montoya puts forth. One in particular is the wood-paneled entryway of a stately Tudor-style home, spare and rather austere, with an immense sculptural foot by the Italian artist Gaetano Pesce centered on an unadorned floor. Another features a piece of functional sculpture in the form of a monumental door—commissioned by the designers—set off by uniquely faceted walls. In both cases, exaggerated scale telegraphs an arresting more-is-more feeling. But when going for grand gestures, there is one caveat: dynamic pieces benefit from negative space around them, so that they can be fully appreciated.

With regard to singularity, an element in a room might stand out for its rarity or the way it’s been positioned in relation to other elements, allowing it to take center stage. An illustration you’ll find in this chapter is an antique mirrored tester bed positioned on a grand-scaled stenciled floor and surrounded by serene pink walls. 

Perhaps the idea most easily employed in maximalist interior design is the repetition of an element. Designers return again and again to this idea as a way to turn up the volume in a room. One fine example in this chapter is the ceiling of an elegant Dallas living room, which is covered in crisp, white-painted decorative plaster blocks. And there are several glorious rooms with a collection of artworks hung gallery-style that collectively command attention. 

Whatever the approach, one thing is paramount: choosing the elements of a maximalist space should be an enjoyable process. Pick elements that you respond to emotionally, elements that you will be happy to live with. Joy is a precious commodity, so by all means have it in abundance at home.

More Is More Is More: Pattern

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Pattern: Japura Forest in Green. Available through Schumacher

PATTERN ~ From the book More Is More Is More: Today’s Maximalist Interiors

© Carl Dellatore, September 27th, 2022. Rizzoli New York

In my former career as a textile designer, pattern was an omnipresent concern. Creating a design element and then engineering it to echo across the width and length of fabric was challenging yet very enjoyable work. And while stripes have always been a personal fascination, there’s a vast, ever-expanding trove of patterns for designers to utilize in maximalist rooms.

The patterns in use today have their origins in many cultures, with motifs originating from East to West. There are time-honored Persian paisleys, both traditional and contemporary interpretations; adaptations of ancient Roman herringbones in every color of the rainbow; ginghams, which are thought to be of Malaysian origin, from the Malay word genggang; tree-of-life designs born from Indian bedcovers and tent panels called palampores; and bountiful florals traced back to China and subsequently reinvented by Europeans. 

As dizzying as the breadth of patterns that exist is, there is an equally vast number of ways in which interior designers can deploy them. A grand-scaled William Morris design from the mid-nineteenth-century founder of the Arts and Crafts movement might be papered around the perimeter of a library, creating a kinetic rhythm. An awning stripe fashioned into tasteful curtains hung from lacquered white rods can serve to impose order on the landscape just outside the window. And speaking of outside, an English floral chintz, covering a range of upholstery silhouettes, transports the visitor to the gardens of a historic Essex manor house in the languishing days of a British summer.

Interior Design by Harry Heissmann ~ Photography by Kris Tamburello

Then there’s the artful juxtaposition of patterns, giving maximalist designers an opportunity to mix and match to create a range of effects. A decadent salon sheathed in an electrifying mix can feel like a 1990s Christian Lacroix haute couture runway show, providing the backdrop for invigorating conversation. Alternately, a demure bedroom with patterns that reveal a graceful mix of motifs encourages a sense of serenity just before slumber. There’s always something that creates a connection—either overtly or in a nuanced way.

Repetition of color is one tried-and-true option for mixing patterns in successful maximalist rooms. For example, a chevron-patterned rug woven in brown and white would pair perfectly with a Moorish-motif wallpaper similarly inflected with brown and accented by powder blue and silver. Repeating motifs works just as well: a delicate Indian lotus print on a tablecloth trimmed with a deep bullion fringe would mix perfectly with a blossoming peony fabric on a collection of throw pillows. The mix could be further unified by a rose-covered Aubusson underfoot, resulting in a verdant botanical flair.

Utilizing geographical references is also an excellent way to link patterns. Think wallpaper populated with chinoiserie pagodas set against a bamboo trellis upholstered on a pair of club chairs, then paired with a stylized chrysanthemum-covered folding screen. To take this idea a step further, a designer might choose a variety of locales by combining a Francophile toile, a Portuguese azulejo, and a Florentine vine, tracing a path around Europe.

With the vast knowledge the designers in this book possess on the history of the decorative arts—coupled with their curiosity and intuition—it’s no surprise that the rooms in this chapter brim with the creative use of pattern. As they would likely all agree, using patterns successfully comes down to what appeals to us personally. To quote the legendary decorator Billy Baldwin, “Be faithful to your own taste, because nothing you really like is ever out of style.”

More Is More Is More: Layering

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Kashgar Velvet Ikat in Ruby & Plum. Available through Schumacher

Layering ~ From the book More Is More Is More: Today’s Maximalist Interiors

© Carl Dellatore, September 27th, 2022. Rizzoli New York

As the title of this book suggests, “more is more” is the ethos of maximalism, and layering is the best implement in a designer’s toolbox to achieve maximalist flair. Color, finishes, materials, furnishings, and organic elements create rooms that have a larger maximalist impact than the sum of their parts. Think of it like a musical composition: each instrumental layer adds to the richness of a piece. When violins, cellos, clarinets, drums, flutes, oboes, saxophones, and French horns combine, they build toward an exhilarating crescendo as exciting as the rooms in this chapter. 

But there is one important clarification: not every layered room can be considered maximalist. For example, rooms conceived around neutral color schemes with nuanced textures and quiet, luxurious furnishings may be rich in supremely sophisticated layers and yet not over the top in any way. 

While not every layered room is maximalist, nearly every maximalist room is layered. In fact, the more richly layered a space, the more maximalist it becomes. The rooms in this book explode with such enthusiasm, exuberantly telegraphing the creativity of the designers behind each space. 

Collected interiors reveal themselves in stages and over time as the eye establishes relationships between parts of an interior. These include the finishes in a room, like wallpaper, paint, wood, stone, textiles, and passementerie. 

Then textures begin to appear as more complex layers reveal themselves: the coarse grain of rough-hewn walnut used in a shiplap wall treatment, the sheen of the highly polished marble top on a brass-framed coffee table, the chunky comfort of lush chenille upholstered onto a headboard. 

Interior Design by Brockschmidt & Coleman. Photography by Simon Watson / Trunk Archive

As the eye travels around a room, we perceive elements in slightly larger groups: the massed decorative pillows positioned on upholstered pieces astride patterned rugs, or lacquered walls punctuated by luxurious window treatments and a handsome, geometric hand-stenciled floor.

Plants add another layer—either singularly, like the large-scale rich green leaves of a fiddlehead fig tree, or in concert with one another, like a pair of Boston ferns on pedestals near a spiky Christmas cactus in full riotous bloom. 

Collections play a key role in maximizing rooms. A dozen tall Murano glass vases in differing hues would command attention on a center hall table, but their impact is enhanced even more by an assortment of Moroccan marquetry boxes interspersed with antique candlesticks. 

Books are a valuable component of any layered room; they imbue a space with a certain sense of knowledge while revealing the interests of the home’s inhabitants. When grouped with other personal mementos, such as generations of family snapshots in silver picture frames or seashells gathered from an annual sojourn to a much-loved beach, a family’s history is revealed on the shelves. 

Ask any of the designers represented in these pages, and they’ll surely tell you that when a maximalist room is layered correctly, it feels effortless—despite the skill it took to create—with each finish, material, furnishing, and object in equilibrium. It’s the secret sauce of decorating. Like the pieces of an elaborate jigsaw puzzle, a maximalist room comes into focus when every piece, every loop and socket, is connected and in its place.

More Is More Is More: Surfaces

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Pattern: Shanghai in Cinnabar. Available through Schumacher

SURFACES ~ From the book More Is More Is More: Today’s Maximalist Interiors

© Carl Dellatore, September 27th, 2022. Rizzoli New York

No book about maximalist interior design would be complete without mention of Tony Duquette, one of the genre’s most celebrated practitioners, who combined fantasy, theatricality, and audacity in equal measure. His aesthetic steeped in global references, Duquette conjured rooms that appear otherworldly, with every surface embellished in wonderfully imaginative ways: Styrofoam fruit crates attached to a ceiling and painted, trompe l’oeil malachite in rich verdant green sheathing the walls, and black-and-white checkerboard floors overlaid haphazardly with gloriously patterned rugs. 

Like Duquette, contemporary interior designers know that the majority of rooms are created with a cube or rectangle as their framework. And these rooms have six surfaces: four walls, the floor, and the ceiling. Combined, those six planes create an envelope within which designers can realize endless maximalist ideas.

Because of the number of square feet involved, the four walls of a room provide designers with the biggest way to pack a maximalist punch—both by utilizing standard finishes like wallpaper and paint and by envisioning one-of-a-kind surfaces created by artisans. A good example is walls conceived with bold, graphic patterns or a mix of patterns, or walls that juxtapose a matte finish against lacquer, allowing the light to change as it moves from surface to surface. An adventurous designer might create walls that stand in stark contrast to a room’s furnishings—perhaps a stylized floral wallpaper set off by a clean-lined Parsons table. These are just a few ways to decorate vertical planes to enhance a maximalist space. You’ll find many more striking and unusual wall treatments in the pages of this chapter.

Interior Design by Ken Fulk. Photography by Douglas Friedman / Trunk Archive

The floor is the fifth surface in a room, and it has one intrinsic requirement: it must be durable. No matter the material or finish, the floor must withstand the punishment of daily traffic, children, and pets. The good news? Maximalist patterned floors, like a geometric carpet or an intricately tiled mosaic, hide a multitude of sins. In the case of the latter, stone often looks better as it ages; the same could be said for wood floors. Patinated surfaces imbue a room with a sense of history and grace. 

Turning to the sixth surface in every room, the ceiling, the legendary twentieth-century decorator Albert Hadley once said, “Ceilings must always be considered. They are the most neglected surface in a room.” Contemporary maximalist designers would surely agree with Hadley. High-gloss lacquered or mirrored ceilings reflect light and add drama; wallpapered ceilings draw the eye up and can be everything from restful to kinetic. For the adventurous designer, the sky’s the limit—pun intended—when it comes to decorating the ceiling.

 Finally, a note of caution: not every surface should be over the top. On the contrary, maximalist rooms benefit when they strike a balance, with some surfaces receding and others taking center stage. A juxtaposition of pattern, color, and texture, in the words of Diana Vreeland, allows the eye to travel.

Glenn Gissler Design

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Chiseled into the sloping terrain between the main house and the Hudson River, the newly constructed terrace with its infinity edge pool and cabana provides a superb respite from the bustling streets of New York City, less than an hour away.

Website Case Study / Glenn Gissler Design

While throughout the 18th and 19th centuries, the riverside hamlet of Nyack, New York, bustled with a thriving shipbuilding industry, today, the locale is better known as a much sought-after community just forty-five-minute from the gridded streets of Manhattan.

Established clients of Glenn Gissler Design were looking for a weekend property when we found a newly-built architect-designed shingle-style Colonial Revival home on the Hudson River. The rooms were gracious and well-detailed yet not ostentatious, with remarkable river views, presenting the perfect backdrop for a restrained mix of contemporary, vintage, and antique furnishings.

A color palette of tempered marine blues, celadon, and sophisticated neutrals was chosen, paying homage to the verdant landscape and gleaming water beyond the structure’s facade. The resulting spaces are comfortably classic and ideally suited to the stunning naturalistic panoramas.

With the interiors complete, the focus turned to the client’s wish for a pool and cabana, presenting a daunting set of challenges. Working closely with an engineer, landscape designer, and an experienced pool builder, the team moved the earth–quite literally–to create a plateau for a resort-inspired infinity edge pool. The resulting terrace appears effortlessly carved into the landscape, as if it has always been there, the ultimate hallmark of successful exterior design.

A backless, streamlined daybed allows a view of the crackling fireplace throughout the fall and winter seasons. The painting over the mantel is by American Abstract Impressionist Richard Pousette-Dart’s 1969-1970 Untitled (Radiance). Pousette-Dart is a widely recognized member of the New York School of painting, creating a poignant relationship between the artist and this Hudson River home.
A stylized Chinese-inspired chain-link motif unfolds across a custom-designed area rug, establishing a colorful dialog with two armchairs in the style of Jacques Adnet, upholstered in similarly-hued paisley. Two lean classical end tables, a custom-colored linen table at the center, and a cast bronze thorn-leg table by Herve van der Straeten provide gracious space for a pair of white crackle-glazed lamps, drinks, books, and cherished mementos.
Three pendant lights are hung from a blue ceiling in the dining room, lending rhythmic gravitas to the room’s lighting. Lush linen curtains frame the windows and French doors. Subtle curves define the suite of chairs, while Winged Creature (2014), by Frank Bowling, takes pride of place above the marble-and-millwork mantle.
The patinated oak finish and graphic contours of the 1940’s pecan-toned sideboard by Parisian furniture maker Charles Dudouyt lend a historical note to the dining room, while Hale Woodruff’s Landscape No.2 (1966) hangs above, referencing the lush landscape beyond.
To one side of the living room, en route to the paneled library, a second seating area invites casual conversation with its armless sofa. The coffee table and chairs are French, with silhouettes establishing a note of continental modernity. Completing the tableau is The Studio, a 1952 canvas by female Abstract Impressionist Yvonne Thomas, who has garnered considerable attention in the years since her death.
Three handsome barstools, clad in a burnished blue-grey textile, add a colorful counterpoint to the kitchen’s celadon-and-off white palette. A small yet striking painting by Franz Kline, Untitled 1960, is perched on the counter, underscoring the homeowner’s interest in modern abstraction.
The custom millwork, marble, slate, and subway tile in the expansive, perfectly appointed chef’s kitchen are softened by several unlined Roman shades tailored in a handsome Zimmer + Rohde stripe.
In the library, pine paneled walls strike a stately note; their color echoes on a caramel leather club chair and vintage coffee table. A melange of slate blue textiles, both plain and patterned, balances the atmosphere. The painting over the mantel is Bradley Walker Tomlin’s Number 19 (1952-53).
A study in perfect contrast, the home’s entryway is at once stately with its double-height ceiling and understated in its elegant simplicity. The monumentally-scaled canvas by Frank Bowling emphasizes the grand sweep of the staircase from above, while the angular Chinese Chippendale fretwork railings sway in juxtaposition to the perpendicular lines of the slate floor.
A subdued palette in the primary bedroom, similarly hued yet softer than the rest of the home’s interiors, hits just the right chroma-note for encouraging a peaceful night’s rest. The textural rug and curvaceous settee mimic the undulation of the Hudson river just below the room’s adjacent terrace. Rock-crystal lamps and the sculptural ‘Supra Bubble’ chandelier provide ambient light.

In this vignette, a Gustavian chest, one of a pair flanking a custom upholstered bed, is coupled with a cylindrical, mother-of-pearl inlaid side table. The rock crystal lamp is ingeniously produced from the detritus of larger crystal cuttings wired together, from CL Sterling & Sons.
Playful polka dot curtains and a gestural line-drawn garden scene rug–rendered in tones of pink, rose, and cream–add to the joyful atmosphere in the daughter’s bedroom. And because it’s never too early to expose children to art, Winter Rose by Kikuo Saito hangs above a diminutively-scaled Chesterfield sofa, chair, and elephant side table.
The infinity-edge pool, cabana, and multiple seating areas for al fresco dining are visible from nearly every room in the home. An adjacent boat launch provides private access to waterside recreational activities.
The cabana, open on three sides to circulate river breezes, draws its architectural inspiration from the shingled house above. A suite of chaise lounges and umbrellas are oriented to capitalize on the remarkable views.
A teak table and fretwork chairs, which allude to the stair railings in the home’s entry, are arranged on a blfishes eddy terrace just off the kitchen, providing seating for an intimate meal.

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Follow this link to see this project and more on Glenn Gissler Design’s website. This project was expertly captured by photographer Peter Murdock, whose portfolio can be seen here.