Issue link: http://papercitymagazine.uberflip.com/i/1545489
The primary bath travertine-clad shower, its surround framing the space like a work of stone sculpture. Opposite page: The primary bath wainscoting, drawer fronts, and countertops are rendered in Mexican travertine. Baldwin door hardware in burnished nickel. Custom Rocky Mountain cabinet hardware. Travertine floors. Danish Art Deco vase by Just Andersen. Flowers Paolo Cammarano. 48 weather had aged it beautifully, providing the kind of color and character that cannot be duplicated. "That's our sink," he thought. The clients took more than a little convincing, but Fontenot held firm. The trough, which weighs nearly a thousand pounds, floats on steel supports tied into the framing. Today, he says, the clients see marble sinks trending everywhere and tell him, "Thank God, we didn't do that." The floor is made from ancient Roman stone, the same kind Fontenot saw at Vervoordt's castle and has never forgotten. The walls are a custom-pigmented limewash, a color that traces back to a bolt of Vervoordt's own Belgian linen that Fontenot discovered in an Antwerp workroom. The fabric was a dusty, earthy mauve — a shade that felt like it might have come from the castle itself, so he cut a strip and later ordered enough to upholster the slipcovered chairs in the living room. The mirror began as a chunk of burl wood sitting outside his woodworker's shop in the rain. Wet, it revealed a remarkable depth of color, a richness that remained even after the finishing process. Fontenot had it cut into thin strips and assembled into a frame around a piece of antique mirror glass he found on eBay. "Everything in the room is one of a kind, anywhere in the world," he says. Years ago, when Fontenot was just starting out, he told us what drives him as a designer. Growing up, he loved anything with dirt on it, anything rusty, anything that showed its age. His grandmother once brought home a new leather club chair, and it felt all wrong. "I wanted it to be older," he said, "so I rubbed my hand all over it to take away the new." That same instinct still motivates him. You can see it in the living room fireplace, whose surround was milled in Mexico by the same craftsman who produced the travertine in the primary bathroom. When it arrived, the side pieces weren't rustic enough, so Fontenot took a hammer to the stone. The clients were there for every swing, phones out, recording. Then he rubbed it with mud and dirt to give it a time-worn appearance. For a pair of collectible José Zanine Caldas chairs — the celebrated Brazilian designer's mid-century work now sells for thousands — Fontenot chose raw undyed muslin at a few dollars a yard, tacked with simple upholstery nails. It was, in its way, pure wabi-sabi — beauty found in the humblest possible choice. The Mexican travertine is rougher and more irregular than its Italian counterpart.