High Rise Apartment is Canvas For Interior Design

A little learning is a dangerous thing. But can no learning at all be tremendously beneficial? Muriel Brandolini cheerfully admits she has had no formal training in interior design. And yet the decorator and designer, who is of French-Venezuelan and Vietnamese parentage and spent her early childhood in colonial Saigon, is one of the most sought-after stylists in New York, famed for bravura interiors that blend vivid color and pattern with furnishings drawn from sources even more diverse than her bloodlines. "The interior design that schools teach is too formulaic— there's only one place to place a sofa, one place to put a chair—like a recipe for mashed potatoes," Brandolini says. "I have no rules. I feel it."

That mixture of fearlessness, self-assurance, and intuitive panache is played out in one of her most recent projects, the apartment of real estate investor Eric Hadar, which occupies the 49th floor of an Upper East Side residential tower. The architectural framework was provided by Shamir Shah, who worked out a plan for separating the apartment's mechanical systems from the rest of the building's, and gave the rooms a clean-lined modern sheath. Public areas can be closed by sliding doors or opened into a continuous space that from one spot affords a view of half the city.

Brandolini's design works on the same principle. Each defined area has its own character, yet the whole decor has a sense of unity and seamlessness. The effect begins at the front entrance, where a large openwork screen of Brandolini's design divides the foyer from the dining room. The interstices between the scrolled frets are so wide that the screen is really only a gesture at separation, yet it works as a boundary.

"Eclectic" is frequently used to describe Brandolini's work, and it is a word she dislikes, understandably so. The term is overused these days, although it is meant in a positive sense to connote a design sensibility that embraces the best of any style or period. On the other hand, "eclectic" is often an apology for a hodgepodge decor, one that may reflect an open-minded personality but is, in effect, lazy—lacking the judicious choice making that marks interior design. Brandolini not only discovers relationships between objects but also plays up differences, so that objects stand out and make their own statements.

Brandolini's design for the Hadar apartment begins with several underlying motifs—literally "underlying" in the case of wonderful custom-made carpets by Fedora Design, which cover the floors of every space, from the dining room to the master bedroom. The patterns of the carpets all suggest ocean life—sea nettles in the dining room; an abstract, planktonlike motif in the living room and library; seaweedy forms in the master bedroom. The living room carpet surprises in its shape as well. Comprising a series of overlapping circles in varying colors and color blends, the carpet unifies the decor of a very large room, while at the same time respecting the discrete seating groupings in that room. Though clearly pleased with the result, Brandolini gives it a Gallic shrug. "To do a carpet that is a big rectangle," she says, "would be very boring."

A second foundation of the decor is a lushly botanical atmosphere, one that calls to mind equatorial latitudes. Potted banana plants are echoed by the strangely petallike wall sconces of the French designer Herve van der Straeten that are hung throughout the living room. Metal standing lamps by Kim Moltzer have a jointed construction reminiscent of bamboo. A cupboard in the library is covered in a patchwork depicting a windblown tree, which was designed by Brandolini and made of silk, pony hide, and horsehair. Some furnishings might have come from the home of a rich colonial planter: Lilou Marquand window shades incorporating an exquisite panel of antique fabric, a nineteenth-century Chinese daybed in a corner of the living room, a Brandolini-designed chinoiserie screen, and a coffee table by van der Straeten made of bits of eighteenth-century Chinese panels.

Brandolini is an ardent devotee of contemporary design, and van der Straeten is a favorite. Other designs of his include a chandelier in the dining room, a side table in the master bedroom, and two of his capsule stools in the library. Then there are the acrylic coffee tables by Albrizzi Design in the library and a magnificent aluminum dining table by Martin Szekely. Brandolini's attraction to them is both aesthetic and practical. Now that twentieth-century design is hot, she says, swindlers are coming out in force. "I've seen things that are said to be by Jean-Michel Frank and they look like someone made them in their backyard," she says. The best works by today's designers have "perfect provenance; they are certified limited-edition, and stamped for authenticity by the country of origin," Brandolini says. "In a few years, these will be the top pieces for dealers and auction houses."

But Brandolini also loves traditional design, and it is the union of antiques and cutting-edge pieces that gives her interiors a special spark. The Szekely dining table is surrounded by English wooden side chairs, circa the 187os, and nearby sits an eighteenth-century Italian console. The library features extravagant Empire armchairs—with sphinx-shaped armrests and Greek key edging—that were once owned by members of the Hapsburg dynasty. The living room has some of Brandolini's signature patchwork chairs—a patchwork composed of eighteenth-century antique textiles. And in the master bedroom hangs a long antique Chinese hand-embroidered panel, restored and mounted by Gina Bianco.

From this room Hadar looks out at the gem in his firm's portfolio, the landmark Citigroup Center tower. Hadar is that unusual creature, a nice tycoon: affable, engaging, and engaged. "Muriel transformed this place," he says. "I admire her passion, and her obsession with details." Self-taught artisans are sometimes the most exacting—and often the most provocative.