It's Personal
- Written by Jason Feinberg
- Published in Interior Design
- Read 2621 times
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When my husband and I decided to move from our last five year design project restoring a 1912 Colonial revival in Muttontown, NY to begin anew - we thought we would keep it simple. The 23-room manor home with 11 bathrooms had been a labor of love and I had thrown myself into the daunting task of “reviving the revival.” Our mission was to save the old clapboard dowager and bring her back to her original grandeur, which we did in record time. Upon completion, however, we wondered what we were doing. Two empty nesters living in this rambling home that was aching for a family and children to fill it with laughter? It was time to move on.
The punch list began with finding a home in Huntington Bay – an area I have always been drawn to. Ideally, it would be more manageable with less bedrooms, an updated kitchen, fewer bathrooms that didn’t need too much attention, a smaller piece of property and close to the water. The ultimate bonus would be a home with a separate structure to house my interior design business. Four out of eight? Not hard, right? Or so we thought.
The Colonial Revival sold quickly, along with most of my furnishings, to a large active family so I was eager to find something completely different and easier to maintain. But alas as the decorating fairies would have it, that was not in the cards. It never is for me. I am drawn to refurbishing tired old homes… It is my destiny.
Harbor Hill is a 1900’s Brick Georgianesque structure. It sits on an ample piece of property in the heart of beautiful Huntington Bay on a turn of road that is always privy to the southeasterly breezes from the Sound. The home had been neglected and in desperate need of some major decorating, but the bones of this house were solid with some exquisite architectural details. It was certainly more work than I had anticipated but I was ready.
The house evoked memories of the older homes in the Hollywood Hills where I had lived for many years as a child. I was smitten. The entry hall announced itself with a black and white floor but was flanked incongruously by old brick red walls splattered with paint and a working fireplace with a mahogany mantle that was far too red. The room had no crown moulding, which seemed odd since all of the other rooms were trimmed in full regalia. A project – I saw the reworked space in my mind. I knew a few rich coats of ebony paint on the mantle, once repainted in a crisp white and some beefy crown moldings would pull the space together.
The house was built for entertaining, with French doors announcing one room to the next. The music room with its sad brown wainscoting and yellowed walls was sure to be a show stopper once repainted in a soft dusty grey with ivory moldings and a high gloss black punch on the three sets of French doors. I could see a baby grand floating in the corner and my collection of books everywhere. I envisioned an old world meets deco meets today kind of vibe, honoring the era of the home but keeping it fresh and livable. The chevron patterned quarter sawn oak floors were in pristine condition but hidden by musty old carpets. No worries. The living room with its exquisite plaster relief had a slight concave turn, leaded glass windows and picture moldings original to the structure; be still my heart. The bathrooms were more of a challenge – perhaps we would need to gut them all but it would surely be worth the time, money and effort. The kitchen? After a week in the house we decided to gut the kitchen.
We will mark our two year anniversary in December. The house is now home. I have lived my passion and we now enjoy our home. And every day, I retreat to my cottage that sits at the base of the driveway, and houses my studio, where I help design other people’s dreams.
In a weak moment we fell in love with another old home. Was it worth it? This is my passion. This is what I live to do.
This article was featured in 25A magazine. www.25amagazine.com