A Greek Revival house in a sleepy New York suburb with theatrical, comfortable interiors
Spare a thought for interior decorators. They spend months, years even, sourcing the most perfect fabrics for a bedroom, the ottoman that completes a living room or the bar stools that pull together a kitchen, then they must simply hand the whole place over to the owners and move on. This beautiful Greek Revival house in New Canaan, Connecticut was a particular wrench for its US-born, London-based decorator, Joyce Sitterly, known for her lush, theatrical take on comfortable living. ‘I completely fell in love with it,’ she tells me. ‘If I could have one house, this would be it. I love the area. I love the architecture. It’s so solid; it felt like home immediately. I think I almost overstepped my boundary now and again, I felt so invested in the way I thought things should turn out!’
The house in this sleepy, green suburb of New York – perhaps most famous for Philip Johnson’s Glass House – was a covid panic purchase for Joyce’s clients, whose three-bed Brooklyn apartment she had designed years before. Previously owned by a decorator who favoured the French country look – “all white linen, very rustic” – it didn’t need a gut renovation, rather a total redecoration to accommodate its new owners’ life and interests. As this was their first country house, they were starting from scratch. ‘They even had to buy a car,’ Joyce explains. ‘They had nothing.’
Joyce’s genius is to improve the way a room functions and feels in ways her clients have never considered. Aiming for the family room to feel cocoon-like, she papered the walls with woven rice paper to mute the acoustics and covered the floor with reed matting and a huge Tibetan rug. To downplay the TV, she switched its position, nestling it within some artificial wainscotting, and then installed a twelve-foot L-shaped sofa that allows the whole family to watch together. ‘Years ago, I was so opposed to L-shaped sofas, and I can’t think why,’ she tells me. ‘They’re so comfortable and so practical. I used to think they were….’ She pauses. ‘A bit naff?’ I suggest. ‘Yes! But the older I’ve got, functionality trumps everything else.’
In the more formal living-dining room at the opposite end of the single-storey house, she mixed up the seating so that guests can lounge on a chaise or on the fabulous Madeleine Castaing-esque green silk-velvet sofa (custom-made to her design by her sofa-maker in the Bronx) or sit at a card table by the window on a pair of toga-inspired gilt chairs, depending on the occasion. A conversation sofa allows for well, conversation, in both directions.
Scattered throughout the room, and indeed the house, are hints of animal print. Her trademark? She laughs. ‘I think sometimes it can be a bit much, but I like it because it keeps things modern, and it drags your eye,’ she explains, rightly defending a stalwart of interior decoration that is too often overlooked. ‘There’s never a time when it hasn’t been stylish, it’s just about how you’re using it.’ The Platner lounge chair with accompanying footstool is upholstered in a dramatic hide, and a particular favourite.
Her ‘really slow-moving, thoughtful’ clients were interested in the process and keen to learn, so every piece in the house was the result of days of conversation. Together they approached the project like a puzzle, with one purchase inspiring the next. Whether consciously or subconsciously, Joyce is always looking for the perfect piece. The Cox London chandelier above the dining table, for example, was snapped up when she saw it in their Pimlico Road window in London on her way to meet friends for dinner. ‘I think if you’re interested in something, you’re going to notice it when it passes you,’ she muses. ‘I’m definitely not working 24 hours a day, but my eye is always turned on. I’m always judging anything I see. If I like something, I’m assessing it.’
Beautifully decorated though the house is, two rowdy young boys mean the family can’t and don’t treat it like a museum. The kids run in from the pool, there’s LEGO on the floor and a bar cleverly tucked into a corner of the kitchen means life can be lived with a drink in their hands. ‘Paramount to my approach to everything is comfort,’ Joyce explains. ‘Everything is tested. I lie on the sofas for a long period. I sit in a chair and test how the light works in a space. Comfort is such a huge thing for me that with any of my spaces, it’s ‘Is the sofa soft enough?’, ‘Does the rug move beneath your feet?’, ‘How does this feel when you’re barefoot?’. It’s not something you can see, that feeling, but it’s just part of the choices you make.’
Given how much she professes to adore the house and its comforts, the owners are lucky she’s happily settled in London with her husband and daughter, or she might well have tried to move in.