Issue link: http://papercitymagazine.uberflip.com/i/184533
Continued from page 17 to furnish the house — the Ralph Waldo Emerson to her Henry David Thoreau. Cottrell had worked on a number of Kleinmann's houses, and the two pals — they even shop and travel together now — had just reinvigorated Kleinmann's previous residence when this one was purchased. (May we remind you of Kleinmann's propensity to fall hard and fast for houses? But, she says, "I have never bought a house just to sell it." Often she succumbs to the proverbial knocks on the doors with offers to buy, or another house will sweep her off her feet. This one, though, she says, "I stalked.") Cottrell set about reimagining existing pieces and putting beloved pieces into new roles, all while sticking to an overall aesthetic that already captured her client's vivacious personality. Kleinmann snaps, crackles, pops, sighs and swoons when describing what this house — and all of her houses — mean to her. Cottrell, on the other hand, is a gentle soul, quite dry-witted and seemingly unable to be flustered — the perfect foil for Kleimann's nuclear-powered enthusiasm for dwellings and decorating. The translation went splendidly, and in the end, Cottrell seemingly channeled the chicest of the glassy, woodland lairs on our pop-culture consciousness: the villain's swank lodge in North by Northwest, the professor's house in Tom Ford's A Single Man. But as a real, family house, it's a success. "We live all over this house," Kleinmann says, with a husband who works on his own paintings in a sunlit corner and teen kids who host sleepovers on an epic, 19-foot sofa in the den. Will this be it? Has Kleinmann found her Walden? We present the numbers: Thoreau lived in his house in the woods for two years. Kleinmann and brood are at two-and-a-half years in theirs — "the longest that I've ever lived somewhere," she says. More of the Kleinmann-Nadurak house, at papercitymag.com. ABOVE: The master, modernist bedroom — a study in velvety textures contrasted with architect O'Neil Ford's brick and glass. (The sumptuousness of it all makes Tammie Kleinmann feel like she's "waking up in a hotel.") Alice Cottrell designed the headboard, in faux white fur by Kravet; at the foot of the bed, a faux red-fox throw by Adrienne Landau, through the David Sutherland Showroom. At the tall windows, faux cashmere curtains by Robert Allen. Underscoring it all, an Edward Fields carpet from Kleinmann's previous residence; Cottrell had it re-cut for this house. The vintage Koch + Lowy lamp at bedside is from Vinya Design & Consign. FAR RIGHT: This cat doesn't scratch — she shoots. California artist Harry Siter's gun-wielding Mother Nature, of bronze, aluminum and redwood, protects her trees, RIGHT: The sleekest, chicest powder bath in Dallas. Cottrell had the house's original cabinetry painted, then specified woven vinyl sisal for the floor, by Bolon of Sweden, from Interior Resources in Dallas. On the walls, Cole & Son's jaunty Automania wallpaper, with line drawings of vintage sports cars; on the ceiling, silvery Mylar wallpaper by Wolf Gordon. The sink's faucet is sensordriven, to save water. (Cottrell calls it "the American Airlines Admirals Club faucet."). Cottrell had two of Flos' Lampadina table lamps — designed in 1972 by Achille Castiglioni — converted into wall sconces. The damask towel is from Anthropologie. JANUARY | PAGE 19 | 2012