It might seem counterintuitive that two aficionados of modern design would choose to buy in a prewar Manhattan building. But when a young husband and wife were looking for an apartment in which to raise their twin daughters, their search led them to a 1928 neo-Georgian tower by Cross & Cross, a favorite architecture firm of New York society in the 1920s and ’30s. “The view looking north up the East River and the long, diagonal triptych of windows made the living room feel like the prow of a ship,” recalls the wife, alluding to the building’s site on the east side of East End Avenue, where only a handful of residential towers directly overlook the water. At the rear of the building, a dead-end alley (unknown to even longtime New Yorkers) once afforded immediate boat access. As students of history, the couple was immediately overcome by, as the husband puts it, “a conviction that the bones of this magnificent Cross & Cross design were worth restoring.”
What proceeded was a renovation that proves just how comfortably a minimalist spirit can reside within a historic building. The couple—he a fan of the Bauhaus, she a writer and yogi—enlisted architects Bade Stageberg Cox and artist/designer Lisbeth McCoy to reconcile their pared-back aesthetic with the structure’s strong character. As in any renovation, the key question was what stays and what goes. Everything had to be just so.
In the entry foyer, a series of bespoke light fixtures—the bases of which are plastered into the ceiling—form a striking composition of illuminated lines; the chair is a midcentury multiuse piece by Friedrick Kiesler.
Luckily, Bade Stageberg Cox are experts at that balancing act. Since founding the firm in 2006, principals Timothy Bade, Jane Stageberg, and Martin Cox have applied their rigorous, research-driven approach to a range of dynamic projects, from loft conversions and brownstone renovations to ground-up residences and cultural venues, among them a forthcoming arts center in the Catskills. “Everything in the apartment was very human in scale,” notes Stageberg, referring to the modestly proportioned rooms. “And the layout had never been touched. All the public spaces were on one side and all the private spaces on the other, with an unusually gracious entry dividing the two. It was fantastic for a family.”
Rather than open up any of the rooms, they proceeded with only minor tweaks to the floor plan, among them trimming the master suite to expand the twins’ bedroom and transforming what had been a maid’s suite into a casual sitting room, complete with a projector screen for movie viewings. Though demolition to the building’s terra-cotta walls proved to be a Herculean task, they retained most of the original wood floors—adding new herringbone when needed—and replated all the original hardware in chrome. In the galley kitchen, which the couple were eager to preserve, existing cabinetry was updated with countertops of cold-rolled steel and backsplashes of stainless steel or Corian.
