Atmosphere
Pals, who likes to decorate for the holidays? I do, I think it’s important to have some ritual, some seasonality, some atmosphere that feels different than everyday. Decorating is potent and memorable and worth care and consideration. When I think about how decorating got lumped in with the temporary and the frivolous it feels mean and gendered and reminds me of 22-year-old me who knew I wanted to be an interior designer, but wasn’t confident enough and thought Architecture School was the only way to be taken seriously.
As they say on The Bachelorette I wasn’t there for the right reasons. My heart wasn’t in it and I didn’t thrive. I was always aware of the aesthetic hierarchy with like, The Pritzker Prize on one end and Martha Stewart on the other, and me with my traditional taste and my enthusiasm for ornament, color, and materiality was on the wrong end and it was a very long four years.
I almost dropped out three times. One summer as I was making my case that I was terrible and it was too hard my mom admitted to me that she “wanted to want to quit smoking” and I agreed that I “wanted to want to finish Architecture school” and we left it there - we would both just keep wanting to want to try and hope that we got there. Pleased to report we both made it! And now here we are.
It surprises me that I have a dang Masters of Architecture from Harvard, and 18 years later I’m here to report that the best thing about it is that I can see clearly and without wistfulness the thing that matters is Atmosphere, and there are three ways to get there; Architecture, Decorating and Art. None is better or more powerful than the others and you really only need one. But if you have two? Wowza. And if you have all three? That’s when memories are made, when your kids friends ask to play at your house, when you have truly elevated how you live.
This is all to say I no longer have hang-ups about being not-architect. Without decorating you’re sitting on a two legged stool my friends, so let us reject the hierarchy and embrace the sensory, the ephemeral, the garlands, the citrus, the beeswax, the paperwhites. Five Things this issue is all about these non-frivolous boosts that fade, but while they’re here they make winter worthwhile.
And finally, the main event is a beautiful house in Montana that has all three; architecture, decorating and art. It just came out in Architectural Digest and its atmosphere is superb; full of nature, designed to the nines, cozy, elegant, playful and with amazing art. A true and groovy reflection of the clients who are my kind of people.
BIG SKY
AD assigned David Foxley to write this article, and I can’t do better so there’s lots of quoting going on here. It starts with me sounding like a wild animal who thinks she’s going to move in someday, but all I meant is that we were very much on the same page lol. Captions are mine and I added some behind-the-scenes photos for context. I hope you enjoy the tour, working on this was a career highlight for our entire team.
“In many ways, I felt like I was building the house for us,” confides interior designer Chloe Redmond Warner of her recent project in Big Sky, Montana, for a pair of discerning clients. (Like Warner, the wife grew up not far from the tony resort town, albeit in more low-key surroundings.)
Warner, who now lives and runs her decorating business, Redmond Aldrich Design, in Oakland, was naturally drawn to the prospect of dreaming up the interiors for a ground-up build not far from her native Missoula, where her parents still reside. But the homeowners, fellow Bay Area residents with two school-age kids, made the commission that much more appealing. “These people are straight-up wonderful, creative, trusting, and funny. And they deserve this little place in the mountains,” she says, correcting herself: “This big place in the mountains.”
That sense of partnership translated into a serene five-bedroom showpiece designed in collaboration with local firm Centre Sky Architecture with construction by Authentic Builders. It features windows so vast and framing views so sublime that certain perspectives may call to mind one of those snowy alpine lairs conceived by A.I. on Instagram. For Warner, the structure made her look at winter in a new light. Instead of “something to battle,” she says, reflecting on her youth, the season became “my pal, and it’s bringing all this softness and quietness.”
When devising any design brief, Warner, an avid reader of novels, starts by conjuring a fictional client, a character who embodies all of the aesthetic principles she means to convey. For this project, her invented muse was a guy who grew up in Montana, she explains, then traveled extensively to Scandinavia and Japan, collected things he loved, and brought them back to a modern mountain idyll. Any severity imposed by architecture would be tempered by cozy seating setups with enveloping silhouettes, plush fabrics, primary colors, warm metals, floral motifs, and vegetal accents. “[Warner has] an architectural mind that brings dimension and purpose to her spaces,” notes the wife. “We appreciated her choice of mixing textures and making spaces feel truly unique.”
Warner’s alchemical touch is on display in the formal dining area, the first space one encounters upon entering the house. There, under 20-foot-high ceilings, a custom Fromental grisaille on silk depicting local flora, fauna, and nearby Lone Mountain (“sweet little place-affirming touches,” notes the designer) serves as a backdrop for larger family dinners. Lit by glowy Roman and Williams Guild pendants over Swedish brass candle sconces, and appointed with deep green leather and dark wood seating, an otherwise cavernous, transitional room becomes a snug dining space conducive to languorous meals.
Elsewhere in the home, that same balancing act between awe-inspiring scale and intimate gathering zones is evident. In one corner of the living area, not far from the wood-lined kitchen, a puzzle table is surrounded by hug-shaped sheepskin chairs that soften the walls of glass just beyond. Nearby, a towering stone fireplace, open on three sides, is brought down to earth by the sumptuous, low-slung sofa, armchairs, and ottomans next door. Art, much of it acquired with the help of San Francisco adviser Caroline Brinckerhoff, plays a major role. In the bedrooms, views through grand picture windows are hardly diminished by familiar touches like a Thos. Moser four-post bed and chunky woven fabrics, smile-inducing bright accent hues, and whimsical moments such as the bunk room’s merino wool “stone” stools.
Summing up the design experience—which, it’s worth noting, survived nearly every peak-pandemic-related challenge imaginable—Warner’s tone turns wistful. “You know that saying about how great clients get great projects? This, for us, is a perfect example of that,” she says. “And I love seeing this Montana girl get a top-shelf project.”
Thank you to RAD Designers Rose Louie, Alex McAuley, Joanna Paul and tip of the hat to the OG Maria Wu; Contractor Authentic Builders best guy Rob Safranek; Centre Sky Architects; Photos by Laura Resen; Styling by Yedda Morrison
And the biggest thank you goes to our clients, who are truly the best. Maybe I really was imagining this as a place for all of us. At the very least for a drink someday.
The end! If you’re seeing this thank you - it was too long for email but I plowed ahead anyway because I wanted to show all the photos.
Next issue is on Getting Dressed - you gotta do it. Clothes have a huge effect on mood and power and fun, and I believe retail is the best way to make good choices about what you wear. We’re going to tuck into the three beautiful (and distinct!) stores we’ve designed in the Bay Area; McMullen Ayla Beauty and Heroshop, and break down how to make a beautiful dressing area for yourself. Teaser: it’s about the lighting. Click below to subscribe, hope to see you there.
Thanks for sharing your story about architecture, decorating, and art. I really appreciated that. This house is my après-ski dreams!! 🎿🐰
I am here to comment only on the first sentence of this article (sorry). I love decorating for the holidays and, for Christmas, I want it to look like a thousand Christmas stores exploded in our house. My husband keeps me in check by not allowing the purchase of any giant, inflatable front yard decorations (but I'm still coveting the 20 ft. Rudolph on sale this year).