An idiosyncratic London flat filled with auction-house treasures and handmade pieces
Most cities in the world have experienced a phase or two of breakneck expansion, one in which buildings seem to spring from the ground, then jostle for space, and ultimately switch usage back and forth from industrial to commercial to housing – and London is no exception. A Georgian farmhouse might now sit squeezed between takeaways on a bustling road in Hackney, and a small Victorian terrace of houses, having been bombed, might now abruptly give way to a bulbous office block.
That particular pace of change can create the kind of intriguing homes that would never have been designed that way, had design had its way with them. If you were to walk under one of the bright blue, riveted steel railway bridges on London’s busy Kingsland Road, you would find one such peculiarity: a small door in the side of a Georgian brick building which seems to have pushed its way into the gap between a railway bridge and a 90s concrete apartment.
This door opens into three small (and quite wedge-shaped) rooms stacked on top of one another: a pine-clad ground floor room with stairs leading up to a bedroom of exposed handmade bricks; and down, to a concrete basement kitchen whose natural light comes solely from a window set into the floor of the living room. This flat is rented by modern furniture dealer Stanley Quaia, and his partner Helen.
‘The funny layout of this flat is actually the really nice thing about it,’ explains Stanley. 'Each room being on a separate floor gives us a chance to be in different spaces with unbelievably different atmospheres, even if it isn’t very big’. The bedroom feels like a loft; the kitchen is cave-like, and there are different building materials on each floor.
The most joyful thing about the flat, however, is the accumulation (and constant flow in and out) of fascinating pieces both large and small – some of which are charming trash, and some legitimate treasure – that Stanley has brought into the space. As a modern furniture dealer, he has iPhone alerts set, and eyes constantly on every auction site that one could think of. Some of the things he buys are sold on, and some come home to roost in his flat for an indefinite period.
There seems to be a preponderance of Italian and particularly Memphis Milano design. For example, the sofa is a vintage example by Mario Bellini, the marble and glass coffee table is by Castigliani, and in the corner of the living room stands a ‘Yang’ light by Gary Morger. Upstairs, the ‘Thinking Man’s Chair’ by Jasper Morrison, one of Stanley’s favourite designers, takes pride of place.
The most important piece of furniture for the couple is the iconic Rampa unit by Pier & Achille Castiglione. This design was inspired by the Milanese street markets and their displays of wares. ‘It's a really great design. The front is shaped like a set of steps for displaying things, the back has a fold-down desk in it, and the sides have drawers so that you can use it for storage’ In fact, this piece of furniture is so important to him that not only has he bought and sold the piece three times (the third example is here to stay, for good), but says that he would only ever choose to buy or rent a flat with at least a double door, so that particular piece of furniture could fit through.
Most of the artworks have appeared in Stanley and Helen’s life as if by osmosis and are quite personal; something painted by a friend, or picked up at auction. A small sketch by his lecturer (Stanley studied fine art), sits near – as is fairly typical here – a piece pulled out of a bin on the side of a road in Milan. A small pastel portrait by Helen has been mounted onto a tiny metal frame and turned into a pendant light.
Aside from furniture by famous designers (bought for a snip at just the right time) and a sprinkling of artworks, the flat is full of Stanley’s ingenious inventions. He has the assemblage artist’s knack for seeing the form and interest, and the potential application, of a whole host of things that any one of us would pass by – a sample, a broken piece of concrete, a funny-shaped bit of packaging.
For example a piece of packaging with holes in it, possibly used for transporting tube lights and found in a lift in Hackney, is mounted on the ceiling as a display for dried flowers. An offcut of laminate has been bent and pinned ingeniously to make a well-designed pendant light, and a broken fragment of marble is fixed to the top of one of Tom Dixon’s ‘Screw’ tables which was missing its top.
Seeming to have outrageous luck with skips, clearances and closing-down sales, every bit of material that Stanley has brought into this flat is interesting. The angular headboard panels are panels of scorched wood from the strip out of Tom Dixon’s old headquarters. The bed frame is an aluminium pallet that was thrown out after being used as a prop in an Adidas photoshoot and ‘it works really well’, says Stanley. The curved, perforated brass screen in the kitchen – one of the coolest things in the house – was in a skip outside a strip club on Kingsland Road.
All in all, this tiny flat is a lesson in how to live abundantly, with a passion for objects and the magpie’s instinct for picking things out at auctions, in bins and off the street; and how to do that with ingenuity and joy in even the most restrictive of spaces: every piece is special, but there is not a vitrine in sight.
Beton Brut: betonbrut.co.uk
Esther Bellepoque1/11An electric blue wall light by Alex Du Preez is mounted above the vintage Mario Bellini ‘Quartet’ sofa.
Esther Bellepoque2/11A 3D-printed experimental prototype vase by Tom Dixon acts as an umbrella stand, beneath a print by Anthea Hamilton, and some framed gingko leaves from the streets of Verona.
Esther Bellepoque3/11Bespoke bookcases fit into the various corners of the strangely-shaped rooms.
Esther Bellepoque4/11An aluminium crate leftover from an Adidas photoshoot repurposed as a bed, underneath a rare first edition Akari pendant light by Isamu Noguchi.
Esther Bellepoque5/11A home-made aluminium clothing rail was made to fit into the rafters of the bedroom, concealed by a vintage Habitat screen.
Esther Bellepoque6/11A bedside table made by Stanley from scraps of wood.
Esther Bellepoque7/11An intriguing German design of washbasin-over-bathtub saves space in the bedroom.
Esther Bellepoque8/11The bedroom has high ceilings and a ‘double aspect’ of windows on both sides, which makes it perfect for house plants.
Esther Bellepoque9/11The basement kitchen, with a perforated metal Sing Sing Sing chair by Shiro Kuramata.
Esther Bellepoque10/11An unusually shaped kitchen table, with legs made from garden gates, along with chairs by Philippe Starck and Shiro Kuramata.
Esther Bellepoque11/11The kitchen consists of open, stainless steel shelving, as well as a twentieth-century German metal dresser.
