In the guest room, a late-18th-century English sofa in Clarence House’s Dama Oiseaux, a custom Breland-Harper linen-covered armchair, and an early-18th-century French Régence walnut fauteuil surround a 1960s Italian walnut burl coffee table. 1930s English mirror; late-18th-century Gustavian desk; 19th-century American hickory-and-rush stool; custom Breland-Harper bed with Hästens mattress and Frette coverlet; 19th-century Persian rug.
The couple eschewed new window coverings, allowing the property’s sweeping vistas to emerge like paintings. On the upstairs landing, the windows frame views of the impressive garden, now planted with California natives and drought-tolerant perennials alongside the existing vineyard with its Grenache and Mourvèdre grapevines. In the upstairs library, a wall of well-stocked bookshelves forms a soothing cocoon, a place to watch television, entertain, or sit quietly at a neoclassical Danish writing desk and ponder what the city might have looked like before the skyscrapers seen in the distance were erected.
While introducing modern conveniences—updating the electrical, putting in air-conditioning, and adding amenities like a second dishwasher to accommodate their entertaining habits—the couple adhered to a “do no harm” ethos meant to hew to the original spirit of the house. The speakeasy—a common feature of many Prohibition-era homes—was transformed into an open bar area with plenty of sturdy, party-ready Mexican recycled glass barware. And in a town that loves a big slab of marble in every bathroom, they retained the original basket-weave tile floors. With a couple of minor exceptions, they also left the layout intact. “If you do too much, it’s kind of like a sweater that unravels,” Harper explains.
In the kitchen, a 19th-century Hungarian pine table serves as the island. The polished copper stool is by Hem, and the pyramid-shape tulipiere is by Frances Palmer.