New York-native brand Pelle transformed its Flatiron showroom-atelier into a dream-like setting with cream carpet and subtly shifting shades of pale yellow curtains offsetting its new works. Design duo Jean and Oliver Pelle (at left) call the installation Unnatural Habitat.
The scene-stealing Nana Lure, a continuation of the Lure lighting collection initially launched in 2016, dominates the space with its large-scale banana frond shade cast in cotton and painted in sumptuous purples and greens. Two fixtures with patinated stepped spines suspend from boat hardware and leather straps made in collaboration with friend and leather designer Jason Ross of Artemas Quibble. The effect is pure tropical fantasy.
Also not to be missed: Dust, a suspended arrangement of reflective shards producing a hazy ambient light and evoking a post-apocalypse world where shiny fragments become treasures. Is this the next wave? Final touches include Pelle’s solid aluminum DVN table with its precise zero-tolerance leg joints plus elevated timber and brass stool/tables from the Stiletto series that Jean describes as “the best way to present wood” with mesmerizing grain patterns on full display. The set-up is on view from May 15 to June 28 at 56 West 22nd St.
The year was 1995. When the Calvin Klein Collection unveiled its New York flagship, it was the ne plus ultra of minimalism: The John Pawson design, a rational procession of natural light and limestone, reaffirmed that less can be more. But what once seemed admirably restrained had come to look, well, timid. And Calvin Klein’s new creative director, Raf Simons, rarely holds back.
After his Calvin Klein 205W39 line had debuted last fall, the 26,000-square-foot, two-story emporium needed a change before the collection hit the racks. “We had three months to figure out what we could do quickly with impact and integrity,” Stephen Cassell says. Fortunately, his team was already in place: He, along with Architecture Research Office co-principal Adam Yarinsky and artist Sterling Ruby, had just renovated the brand’s New York showroom.
Here, the limestone flooring was covered with nylon carpeting in a griege that deepens as feet cross it. Pawson’s famed glass railings were slipped into sleeves of Formica, the same retro material used for the blocky, Memphis-esque displays for apparel, accessories, and home goods. Scaffolding, the city’s ultimate forecast of change, became the focal point and, Cassell says, “layered in complexity.” Not to mention a means for hanging Ruby’s mixed-media sculptures incorporating found objects. Then, every inch of the once-creamy interior was coated in taxi-cab yellow. “We were curious,” Yarinsky notes, “what would happen if you take something familiar but turn it up to 11.”