With past mentors including Marc Jacobs, Paul Fortune, John and Christine Gachot, and Gabriel Hendifar, interior designer Casey Kenyon was exceptionally well placed when he launched his own studio in 2019. Drawing on the experience gained from these creative titans, the New York-based designer’s most recent project is a confident expression of his own style and sensibility – made possible by clients who were 'game, open and trusting,' Kenyon says.
This one-bed apartment in an Upper West Side co-op was designed for a couple – Ted, a screenwriter, and Josh, an agent – who split their time between Manhattan and the Hudson Valley. The seventh-floor apartment’s predominantly north-facing rooms are bathed in soft light throughout the day, though the relatively low ceilings required careful consideration of scale and proportion. Some of the larger pieces the couple had hoped to bring from their Upstate home – a substantial sofa, for example – simply proved too imposing. 'We taped it out on the wall, and I was like, this is never going to work,' recalls Kenyon, who instead focused on lower furniture to create the impression of greater ceiling height.
Several key pieces were custom designed out of necessity, owing to the city’s notoriously narrow hallways and limited elevator capacities – 'a proper New York challenge,' as the W*400 designer puts it.
The sofa had to be delivered in pieces, while the television cabinet was also assembled on site. Crafted in walnut, the cabinet features teal gloss doors that neatly fold into side pockets and is finished with vintage handles sourced from Kenyon’s ever-evolving collection. This, he explains, is one of his tricks for softening the feel of a new object. 'Vintage hardware takes away the newness in a way that’s special,' he says. 'A little bit of patina goes a long way.'
Additional bespoke furniture creates a dining nook opposite the kitchen, where a plaid Zak & Fox wallpaper and a mounted Picasso plate are designed to catch the eye of anyone seated on the banquette. 'You can sit there as one person with your laptop or to have takeaway, or as six people when entertaining,' Kenyon says.
Upholstered pieces throughout the apartment introduce a carefully calibrated range of hues selected so they feel 'complementary, but don't match,' the designer explains. 'I typically like complex colours, which can change and shift during the day. While the apartment is mostly off-white, the bedroom is a different shade to the living room because the light is different in each.'
The couple’s impressive art collection played a key role in bringing personality and richness to the interiors. Among their existing works, a grid of nine Andy Warhol Polaroids hangs in the dining room alongside a trio of black-and-white photographs by Diane Arbus. Although the collection is not intentionally queer-focused, Kenyon notes that several prominent queer-identifying artists appear throughout the home, including Hugh Steers, Peter Hujar and Nick Hoover.
Perhaps the most fortuitous acquisition, according to Kenyon, was the Genieve Figgis painting in the living room, which serendipitously echoed the colours of the custom burgundy rug. 'We were constantly looking for something to go above the sofa, even after the room was done, and then the Figgis just came to be, and it was perfect,' he says.
Another fun discovery rests atop a tall Art Deco plinth in the bedroom. Kenyon came across this small bronze figurative sculpture at a Paris flea market and, after an enthusiastic early-morning text exchange with his clients, promptly purchased it – before discreetly sneaking it home in his suitcase. 'If you were looking for it on the internet, you would never find it,' the designer says.
Overall, Kenyon sought to create a dialogue between harder lines and materials and softer, more 'frouffy' embellishments, allowing these relationships to slowly reveal themselves as the eye moves through the apartment. A floral vase placed beside a black steel side table, or the glass-topped Guy Lefevre coffee table positioned opposite a crewel, brush-fringed cloth, are among examples.
'I think we did a good job here of playing with softness and rigidity,' Kenyon says. 'Those sorts of things are lovely and important, and feel real.'
