Vintage furniture, much of it picked up at auction or on buying trips to Paris and Palm Beach, nimbly pivots between culture and camp. “It was about finding interesting things and giving them new life,” Lucido notes of the mix, which foregrounds sculptural 20th-century seating that they then reupholstered in luxe fabrics. (Think Art Deco armchairs in a nubby Zak+Fox neutral or a midcentury sofa in Dedar mohair.) Folded in are the designer’s own bespoke creations, among them Palley’s magnificent burl bed and the blue guest room’s suite of aluminum pieces. Playful moments abound too, whether the dining area’s showstopper fireplace, reclad in vibrant ceramic panels by Jordan McDonald, or the parlor level’s tufted ottoman, topped by a flouncy tasseled pillow. At every stage, Palley and Lucido consulted closely. “It was the longest game of design ping-pong I have ever played,” notes the designer, calling the project “a true collaboration.”
Throughout the process, Palley drew conceptual lines between the art and the furnishings, harmonious though that array may be. “I strongly believe that art is not decoration,” he notes of his collection, which focuses on queer and female artists, with, he says, “an eye to the Global South.” There are pieces by established names—Lynda Benglis, Kiki Smith, Jenny Holzer, Robert Gober—but also emerging talents. On the parlor level, a tapestry by Tadáskía, a Black trans artist from Brazil, mingles with a double portrait by the South Korea–born painter Eunnam Hong, and a textile work by Vivian Caccuri, another Brazilian rising star. Mounted in one corner, meanwhile, are sculptures by Kosovar artist Petrit Halilaj, whose Madrid-born husband, Alvaro Urbano, created the leaf sculptures scattered at the base of nearby windows. “When you live with art it has to be more than static objects,” says Palley, noting the dialogues that have emerged organically among works.
These days, conversations have materialized among people too, as Palley puts his new home to use as a space for entertaining. Recent events have included a seated dinner in celebration of SculptureCenter and a party for newly engaged friends. At the end of the night, guests gone, he and his dog, Taxi, will wind up the stairs to his top-level suite, where the first piece of art he ever bought—a print by Julie Mehretu—hangs within view of that bespoke bed. It’s just one of many constant companions. “Living with art,” he reflects, “is like living with friends.”
