Tour a Brooklyn Town House That’s Filled With Midcentury Magic—And a Giant Guernica Replica
When interior decorator Courtney O’Sullivan of Left Bank Design was growing up in New York, brownstones were either being hastily converted into apartments or demolished to make way for white glazed–brick high-rises. Back then, if you desired your own home, you moved to the suburbs. Today, however, scores of brownstones in all five boroughs are shrouded in scaffolding as they get converted into some of the most desirable residences in town. May they all turn out as beautifully and livable as the one transformed by O’Sullivan on DeKalb Avenue in Brooklyn.
Being a native New Yorker, O’Sullivan sees brownstones “as an iconic part of the city.” She says, “I was fascinated with the idea of tackling one.” Renovating the 1890 Italianate structure, however, was daunting. “I was immediately attracted to its high ceilings and the striking molding,” O’Sullivan says, “but there were a lot of beautiful details that were stripped out in the ’60s and ’70s.” Every floor had to be reconfigured. Having previously lived in a loft, O’Sullivan “loved light and openness and didn’t want to give that up.”
With the help of Sebastian Kulpa of Black Square Builders, walls were removed, floor-to-ceiling windows were installed—most notably across the back of the parlor floor—and closets and bathrooms were consolidated to allow more light into the bedrooms, which now span the width of the house. The result, which took a year and a half to achieve, is a truly rare fusion: A home that is cleanly elegant and spare, yet somehow radiates both warm informality and welcoming ease.
That’s because O’Sullivan has shrewdly employed her love of 20th-century modernist furniture on choosing pieces that are large and dominant, yet affording each covetable piece enough space and respect that they never fight each other for attention. In addition, her criteria was that furniture had to be as durable as it was dramatic. “My kids are now of college age,” O’Sullivan says, but she still can’t go all out for chic. “I had to make room for soccer balls. Instead of piling on the antiques, I gathered pieces that were personal but never so perfect or precious that you wouldn’t feel comfortable having a glass of wine anywhere.” O’Sullivan’s affinity for midcentury furniture is due to it being both design-forward and practical. “It glows with the warm patina of something that has endured with strength, and you can mix it with pieces of any era. And when we did that, the rooms came together in a way that is kind of magic.”
And yet, there is one element of her inviting home that can’t help but stand out. O’Sullivan wanted one design element to dominate the kitchen and pull it together: Picasso’s color-coordinated but brutal anti-war masterpiece Guernica. “If I could own a work by anyone it would be Picasso,” O’Sullivan says. Of course, owning the original was out of the question, so she enlisted a band of art students to work on a recreation together. “When I look at it, [I] see the fun of their collaboration,” she says. And yet, her creativity continues: O’Sullivan is considering replacing the work with a series of large block tapestries. Food for artistic thought, one might think.
1/10“The staircase was one of the few elements we kept,” O’Sullivan says. “The newel post was jacked up, but we restored the original wood.” An Isamu Noguchi lamp lights the entry foyer.
2/10The living room is a perfect example of O’Sullivan’s aesthetic. An angular brass chandelier by Gaetano Sciolari hangs over a massive oak table attributed to Charles Dudouyt that O’Sullivan discovered at Paris’s famed Clignancourt flea market. Both are flanked by a painting by German artist Martin Kaspar. A Curtis Jere brass starburst above the fireplace overlooks a gracefully curved Vladimir Kagan sofa recovered in Knoll bouclé wool and a Hans Wegner woven sling chair centered around a Silas Seandel metal-based and glass-topped cocktail table from the ’70s. Of the three framed works on the right, the paintings are unattributed Paris flea market finds. The ink art is by Marco del Re from the Galerie Maeght in Paris.
3/10The near floor-to-ceiling windows spotlight one of the sensually undulating Baumann and Fil screens that were originally designed in the ’40s to hide cash registers in department stores. It stands behind a Poul Jensen Z chair upholstered in Schumacher velvet and an Angelo Mangiarotti black marble table. On the side is a Harry Balmer patinated steel lamp atop a lacquered burl wood table by Edward Wormley.
4/10Light pours in from a floor-to-ceiling wall of windows to add a glow to the kitchen’s custom-polished tinted concrete tiles. In front of the custom cabinetry is a custom matte concrete countertop and two bentwood stools by Zeitraum. The Lindsey Adelman chandelier and the Knoll table are surrounded by chairs found in the Paris neighborhood Clignancourt.
5/10Right off the kitchen, a greenspace awaits.
6/10The ample bluestone-tiled backyard gets sunlight—an unusual fact for a brownstone’s backspace. O’Sullivan considers it “a marvelous oasis we try to use year-round. In the fall, all the foliage turns a stunning yellow and orange.” Note the massive windows that capture the sunlight for the kitchen and dining room.
7/10The all-white second floor library is notable for its Stilnovo chandelier, curvaceous Harry Balmer patinated steel lamp, the ’50s George Mathias etched bronze coffee table, and vintage Beni Ourain woven rug from Marrakech. The vintage chair is from the ’40s, and the leather sofa in the foreground is by De Seda.
8/10William Morris wallpaper surrounds an RH framed bed.This bedroom also features another Noguchi light fixture and another rug from Marrakech.
9/10The primary bedroom is made serene by a pale gray mural by Susan Harter. The bedside table were custom built by a furniture maker named Brion Morehead, who regrettably is no longer making furniture.
10/10The wide and dark wood double sink vanity was custom built, and it is accented by Waterworks fixtures, RH mirrors, and vintage sconces by Audoux Minet.