
Trade Secrets first published in New England Home | Jan-Feb 2013
by Louis Postel
There is something beautiful about man-made things that float: a schooner, a dingy, a junk, a cruise ship, even bar of Ivory soap—after all “it floats.” And how beautiful as well was the idea at least of Floatyard, debuted at last November’s ABX.

A simple drawing in the Unbuilt Architecture pavilion, Floatyard could have been easy to miss, because there was so much else going on at this ever-expanding show. Hosted by the Boston Society of Architects, ABX featured live demos behind a black curtain of 3-D models printed while you wait, a full day of talks about big ideas and big data by Boston Society of Architects president Mike Davis, Governor Deval Patrick, Andre Leroux of the Smart Growth Alliance, Barry Bluestone of the Dukakis Center, and many others, plus miles of aisles of stunning photography. Can anyone be left doubting the power of New England design here and abroad?
But somehow Floatyard stood out. Architect Brian Healy, director of design at the Boston office of the national architecture firm Perkins + Will, and developer Ed Nardi, of Cresset Development, imagined this multi-family living community that looks like an upturned milk carton tethered to the edge of Boston Harbor and cantilevering out on pontoons. Given rising sea levels and the ever-rising value of waterfront property, this is an idea that seems long overdue. Trade Secrets looks forward to future incarnations of Healy’s floating community, perhaps inspired by the high spirits of the Flying Cloud, the SS Normandie, even a Chinese junk. They would sell out before you can say ABX.
When architect Thomas Burke retired to Jamaica, Vermont below Stratton Mountain he painted his colonial home purple. His spirits lifted at the sight — but his neighbors’ spirits sank. Folks justifiably famous for minding their own business would stop and stare in their snowshoes. One frequent comment polite enough to quote was and still is: “That’s just your primer we hope.”
Back in his working days, collaborating with homeowners almost always raised Burke’s spirits. “But not always,” says Burke. “I remember working on the Vineyard for architect Benjamin Moore, a distant relation of the paint family. More than one prospective client would say: “’Mr. Moore, ’you know what I want — I want that house over there except I want you to make it five feet longer on every side.’ And Moore would say, ‘Then that won’t be the same house as the one over there.’ Fortunately, he had so much work he could speak his mind like that.”
Designer Kate Coughlin of Boston, MA has managed to put together a group of loyal clients who just to seem to always float her boat: “Now more than ever, they want to have a lot of fun,” she says. “They are after a more light-hearted, family-friendly aesthetic…tired of all the heavy brown furniture. Even very traditional clients are requesting lighter, more mid-century pieces.”
Interior Design Magazine has dubbed Judd Brown of Pawtucket, RI a Design Giant eleven of the past thirteen years. He, too, says there is a something high-spirited going on. Design elements like Mid-Century tie the present into the past — but lighter, more refined. Paint color, stains and finishes are becoming muted and earthy, and at times misty in feel, especially in homes that are on the coast.”
After graduating from Boston College in 1986, designer Cecilia Walker went off to see the world as an executive for apparel companies such as Stride-Rite and Levi Strauss, and, later in 1992 for home goods purveyor Laura Ashley in the Back Bay. “Back then Milan and Paris would set trends — and then they would appear in the mainstream a good two years later,” says Walker whose interior design studio is in Hingham, MA. “That is still true only now there is a twist: you have sites like Houzz and Pinterest giving people the impression that that they are now ahead of the mainstream. But that is an illusion. “Benjamin Moore Classic Grey has become the go-to neutral, but grey is actually two years old. Benjamin Moore’s Manchester Tan will be replacing it, just as gold knobs and brass handles will be replacing chrome and polished nickel. It’s very difficult to get all this from simply clicking the net.”

Architect Jimmy Crisp of Millbrook, NY designs luxury homes just across the border in the Berkshires of Massachusetts, so we count him as a New England designer. Not only that, Crisp is a proponent and authority on porches, which he claims were essential in raising spirits in New England as well as in the Louisiana of his childhood. Though air conditioning made porches nearly extinct, they are coming back in a big way; he says, adding that what got him going about porches was a project from seven years ago. “Some architects won’t take small jobs, but we do. A homeowner contacted us about only doing a glassed-in porch. We ended up doing work not only on the porch, but the kitchen and living room, as well. After that, one of my firm’s designers Sandra Mahoney and I devoted the next year to writing On the Porch: Creating Your Place to Watch the World (Taunton Press.) We picked architects’ porches from all over the country and sent photographers out to shoot them.”
“Some clients are concerned that a porch will cut down on light inside. But we have never had a problem. We often use grey deck paint which reflects off the porch and brightens the inside anyway. Porches are just a wonderful transition space from outside to inside. And they make homes look bigger and better — you are enjoying nature, but you are also protected. After a particularly tense day, I cannot wait to get home to my own porch and just relax with friends and family. Something changes for me, lifts my spirits, to exactly why is hard to define.”
Also hard to define, but a true spirit-lifter is the Bilbao Effect, according to Michael Casey. Casey, a retired architect in Provincetown, MA sites how Frank Gehry’s design for the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao completely transformed an ageing industrial town in Spain, and how people are increasingly drawn to living near or around high-profile works of architecture: whether it’s Big Ben, the Sidney Opera House, the Arc de Triomphe, or Boston’s Custom House Tower. They are beacons welcoming us back in a troubled world,” says Casey, relaxing on his deck with its twilit view of the 252 foot high, all-granite Pilgrim Monument commanding the Harbor. “And while these icons are great projections of power which is hard type of feeling, they are also soft in that these structures become gathering places where people can feel part of a community. Why architect Willard Sears chose to model his tower here in Provincetown, after a Renaissance tower in Italy remains a mystery, however.”
Israel-born designer Karin Sharav-Zalkind of Newton, MA recalls the floating beauty of three bubble lamps by George Nelson (1908-1986) she just installed in nearby Brookline. “The house was on the street and when you drove by it looked like three space ships were hovering around inside. Even though we designers are focused primarily on creating beautiful interiors, we need to remember the impact the exterior has on the neighborhood. How, for example, does a window treatment look from the street when it’s closed as well as when it’s open?”
Boston-based designer Anthony Catalfano offers a solution that allows for privacy inside, curb appeal outside and understated elegance all around. “Forgo fussy drapery treatments,” he says. “Edit out complex valance trims with all those contrasting linings. Clients these days are looking to us for more tailored, simpler fabrics and upholstery. Specifically for windows, that would mean fabric panels with finishing tape along the edges hanging from a drapery pole to the floor — nothing more.”
In November, just before ABX, this magazine inducted Catalfano into its Hall of Fame. Enormous windows reflected linens, crystal, flowers, and gleaming, high-spirited faces— and beyond the Custom House Tower itself, floated high above Boston Harbor.
There is something beautiful about man-made things that float: a schooner, a dingy, a junk, a cruise ship, even bar of Ivory soap—after all “it floats.” And how beautiful as well was the idea at least of Floatyard, debuted at last November’s ABX.
A simple drawing in the Unbuilt Architecture pavilion, Floatyard could have been easy to miss, because there was so much else going on at this ever-expanding show. Hosted by the Boston Society of Architects, ABX featured live demos behind a black curtain of 3-D models printed while you wait, a full day of talks about big ideas and big data by Boston Society of Architects president Mike Davis, Governor Deval Patrick, Andre Leroux of the Smart Growth Alliance, Barry Bluestone of the Dukakis Center, and many others, plus miles of aisles of stunning photography. Can anyone be left doubting the power of New England design here and abroad?
But somehow Floatyard stood out. Architect Brian Healy, director of design at the Boston office of the national architecture firm Perkins + Will, and developer Ed Nardi, of Cresset Development, imagined this multi-family living community that looks like an upturned milk carton tethered to the edge of Boston Harbor and cantilevering out on pontoons. Given rising sea levels and the ever-rising value of waterfront property, this is an idea that seems long overdue. Trade Secrets looks forward to future incarnations of Healy’s floating community, perhaps inspired by the high spirits of the Flying Cloud, the SS Normandie, even a Chinese junk. They would sell out before you can say ABX.
When architect Thomas Burke retired to Jamaica, Vermont below Stratton Mountain he painted his colonial home purple. His spirits lifted at the sight — but his neighbors’ spirits sank. Folks justifiably famous for minding their own business would stop and stare in their snowshoes. One frequent comment polite enough to quote was and still is: “That’s just your primer we hope.”
Back in his working days, collaborating with homeowners almost always raised Burke’s spirits. “But not always,” says Burke. “I remember working on the Vineyard for architect Benjamin Moore, a distant relation of the paint family. More than one prospective client would say: “’Mr. Moore, ’you know what I want — I want that house over there except I want you to make it five feet longer on every side.’ And Moore would say, ‘Then that won’t be the same house as the one over there.’ Fortunately, he had so much work he could speak his mind like that.”
Designer Kate Coughlin of Boston, MA has managed to put together a group of loyal clients who just to seem to always float her boat: “Now more than ever, they want to have a lot of fun,” she says. “They are after a more light-hearted, family-friendly aesthetic…tired of all the heavy brown furniture. Even very traditional clients are requesting lighter, more mid-century pieces.”
Interior Design Magazine has dubbed Judd Brown of Pawtucket, RI a Design Giant eleven of the past thirteen years. He, too, says there is a something high-spirited going on. Design elements like Mid-Century tie the present into the past — but lighter, more refined. Paint color, stains and finishes are becoming muted and earthy, and at times misty in feel, especially in homes that are on the coast.”
After graduating from Boston College in 1986, designer Cecilia Walker went off to see the world as an executive for apparel companies such as Stride-Rite and Levi Strauss, and, later in 1992 for home goods purveyor Laura Ashley in the Back Bay. “Back then Milan and Paris would set trends — and then they would appear in the mainstream a good two years later,” says Walker whose interior design studio is in Hingham, MA. “That is still true only now there is a twist: you have sites like Houzz and Pinterest giving people the impression that that they are now ahead of the mainstream. But that is an illusion. “Benjamin Moore Classic Grey has become the go-to neutral, but grey is actually two years old. Benjamin Moore’s Manchester Tan will be replacing it, just as gold knobs and brass handles will be replacing chrome and polished nickel. It’s very difficult to get all this from simply clicking the net.”
Architect Jimmy Crisp of Millbrook, NY designs luxury homes just across the border in the Berkshires of Massachusetts, so we count him as a New England designer. Not only that, Crisp is a proponent and authority on porches, which he claims were essential in raising spirits in New England as well as in the Louisiana of his childhood. Though air conditioning made porches nearly extinct, they are coming back in a big way; he says, adding that what got him going about porches was a project from seven years ago. “Some architects won’t take small jobs, but we do. A homeowner contacted us about only doing a glassed-in porch. We ended up doing work not only on the porch, but the kitchen and living room, as well. After that, one of my firm’s designers Sandra Mahoney and I devoted the next year to writing On the Porch: Creating Your Place to Watch the World (Taunton Press.) We picked architects’ porches from all over the country and sent photographers out to shoot them.”
“Some clients are concerned that a porch will cut down on light inside. But we have never had a problem. We often use grey deck paint which reflects off the porch and brightens the inside anyway. Porches are just a wonderful transition space from outside to inside. And they make homes look bigger and better — you are enjoying nature, but you are also protected. After a particularly tense day, I cannot wait to get home to my own porch and just relax with friends and family. Something changes for me, lifts my spirits, to exactly why is hard to define.”
Also hard to define, but a true spirit-lifter is the Bilbao Effect, according to Michael Casey. Casey, a retired architect in Provincetown, MA sites how Frank Gehry’s design for the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao completely transformed an ageing industrial town in Spain, and how people are increasingly drawn to living near or around high-profile works of architecture: whether it’s Big Ben, the Sidney Opera House, the Arc de Triomphe, or Boston’s Custom House Tower. They are beacons welcoming us back in a troubled world,” says Casey, relaxing on his deck with its twilit view of the 252 foot high, all-granite Pilgrim Monument commanding the Harbor. “And while these icons are great projections of power which is hard type of feeling, they are also soft in that these structures become gathering places where people can feel part of a community. Why architect Willard Sears chose to model his tower here in Provincetown, after a Renaissance tower in Italy remains a mystery, however.”
Israel-born designer Karin Sharav-Zalkind of Newton, MA recalls the floating beauty of three bubble lamps by George Nelson (1908-1986) she just installed in nearby Brookline. “The house was on the street and when you drove by it looked like three space ships were hovering around inside. Even though we designers are focused primarily on creating beautiful interiors, we need to remember the impact the exterior has on the neighborhood. How, for example, does a window treatment look from the street when it’s closed as well as when it’s open?”
Boston-based designer Anthony Catalfano offers a solution that allows for privacy inside, curb appeal outside and understated elegance all around. “Forgo fussy drapery treatments,” he says. “Edit out complex valance trims with all those contrasting linings. Clients these days are looking to us for more tailored, simpler fabrics and upholstery. Specifically for windows, that would mean fabric panels with finishing tape along the edges hanging from a drapery pole to the floor — nothing more.”
In November, just before ABX, this magazine inducted Catalfano into its Hall of Fame. Enormous windows reflected linens, crystal, flowers, and gleaming, high-spirited faces— and beyond the Custom House Tower itself, floated high above Boston Harbor.