Daniel Rowen: Architect Of Minimalism
The New York Chapter of the American Institute of Architects gave its highest commendation last year, the Honor Award, to a strikingly spartan Park Avenue pied-…-terre designed by Frank Lupo/Daniel Rowen Architects.
The client, a European businessman and art collector, asked for "an architecture of intellect," Mr. Rowen recalled during a recent visit. What he got was a stripped-down environment: glossy white walls, floors, and ceilings, gallery-like European halogen light fixtures, and a cantilevered, laminated-glass panel that screens the living area from the entrance.
At first glance, the apartment, featured in Architecture magazine's February 1997 issue in an article called "Living With Less," seems to cry out for movers to barge in with chairs, tables, lamps, rugs. A couch potato would go bananas: not a sofa or TV set in sight, and no visible fridge.
Space Becomes Art
"We didn't fully understand the meditative power of the empty space until it was finished," said Mr. Rowen. "The flood of light on the walls was designed for displaying part of the client's collection. But the space and light alone ended up satisfying his aesthetic needs, and he never hung a thing - the space became the artwork."
A few "concessions to comfort" - white floor cushions that provide seating and can be laid together to form a bed, a low Japanese-style table, "and other mundane objects of everyday life" - are concealed in cabinets, the architect explained, or in "closets hidden inside columns."
In the magazine photos, the apartment looks radiantly beautiful, its serene planes enhancing "the contemplative potential of the space and the power of light, air, and silence."
Growing Up Streamlined
No stranger to clean lines, Mr. Rowen, born in 1953, grew up in a Washington, D.C., suburb in a minimalist environment unusual for the Eisenhower years.
"My parents built a modern house with a flat roof and no basement, and I lived with an aesthetic of uncluttered space, large panes of glass, and streamlined Knoll furniture."
With two siblings eight and ten years older than he, he often felt like an only child at a dinner table full of grownups, and remembers scrambling to catch up.
His father was devoted to his job as an international business correspondent and columnist for The Washington Post. His mother busied herself with volunteer work (she is currently a member of the Democratic National Committee). Mr. Rowen attended Washington's elite St. Alban's School, and majored in art history at Brown University.
Yale: New Skills
He graduated magna cum laude, took two years off to travel and work as a paralegal in Georgetown, and then applied to graduate schools in law and architecture.
At the Yale School of Architecture, Mr. Rowen again found himself scrambling to catch up, pitting himself and his art background against classmates with undergraduate architecture degrees.
"I'm a very competitive person who's used to being a team player, not sitting on the bench," he said. "It was a challenge to acquire all those new skills."
During his second year he happened to take a class taught by Charles Gwathmey of Gwathmey Siegel & Associates, and the two hit it off. Mr. Gwathmey invited Mr. Rowen to work in his Manhattan offices that summer.
Gwathmey Siegel
"I walked into Charlie's office and my first job was project manager for the Fran‡ois de Menil house on Further Lane in Amagansett. For a second-year architecture student, it was an unbelievable assignment, and also my introduction to the Hamptons."
The combination got to him, he said - "I took another year off."
"Gwathmey Siegel was an excellent office to work in: well-organized, disciplined, and attentive to detail. It accelerated my architectural education immeasurably, and put me on a great professional track."
In this awe-inspiring setting, not unnaturally, the young architect's competitive spirit was curbed. "I love Charlie as a guy, and I'm close to his family. While I generally don't like working for others, working for him was different because I wanted him to win, also."
Art Gallery Design
With his M.A. in architecture in hand, Mr. Rowen opened his own New York office in 1985 in partnership with Frank Lupo, a fellow Yalie and Gwathmey Siegel employee.
Frank Lupo/Daniel Rowen Architects' first project was to design an art gallery in Chelsea for Larry Gagosian, whom the partners had met through Mr. Gwathmey. An extremely high-profile job, it earned the fledgling firm widespread praise for its austere beauty.
They went on to design two 57th Street galleries for Susan Sheehan, as well as the James Danziger, Perry Rubenstein, and Tony Shafrazi galleries in SoHo and the breathtakingly elegant Larry Gagosian Gallery on Madison Avenue.
"There was so much money in the art world during the '80s," said Mr. Rowen, "and Larry, with his incredible eye, was always a leader. He built his galleries on a museum-quality level."
Residential Projects
"Designing galleries was interesting for me as an art history major. How can you have doorways large enough to accommodate huge Twomblys and yet achieve closure in the various rooms? The architecture of galleries exists in the interstitial spaces, the passageways."
The firm also planned several Nicole Miller Boutique shops here and in Los Angeles, and corporate offices for Masterzone, Ltd., This Old House magazine, Coca-Cola, Martha Stewart Living, and Entertainment Weekly, among others.
Included in their many residential projects were Mr. Gagosian's 69th Street townhouse (coincidentally, a former de Menil residence), the Buckley-Tomkins house in Montauk, and, in Manhattan, the Tomkins-Kazajian penthouse and the Miller-Taipale residence.
His Own House
Soon after the firm won the prestigious A.I.A. award, Mr. Lupo left to work for a larger organization. Mr. Rowen has since undertaken, among other projects, the renovation of his own modest vacation house, on Floyd Street in East Hampton Village.
A humble endeavor compared to the "more stately mansions" in the area that bear his name, it nevertheless brought a proud smile to his face as he showed his visitor around the small, clean-cut rooms.
"The world is so cluttered psychologically that there's something thrilling about walking into an empty room," he said. "You can see yourself; you're not lost in a visual context of so many elements."
"I came to this house with modernist prejudices that turned out to be quite compatible with its 1940s' style. I think of myself not as a theorist but as a compositionalist interested in whether the effect is elegant, beautiful, and smart. If it's not intelligently arranged, the rest is undercut."
Obects Span Eras
He likes to group beautiful objects from any era in pleasing combinations. In the kitchen - white wainscoting and cabinets complementing the puffy lines of a white vintage stove - he has juxtaposed an old country library table for dining, a tall, skinny Italian lamp from the '60s for light, and a voluptuously curvaceous bentwood armchair, set in front of an old stand-up radiator for warmth.
They look smashing.
The architect's youngest son, Harrison, snoozing peacefully in a nearby bassinet throughout the interview, added a cozy note, while intermittent visits from Max, 21/2, and his babysitter, Jackie, jogged the pristine symmetry to life.
Future Challenge
His challenge in the East Hampton house will be to accommodate his attraction to emptiness to the needs of a growing family and its affinity for clutter, Mr. Rowen said.
With his obvious pleasure in his young household, the help of his wife, Coco Myers, news fashion editor of Elle magazine, and the cooperation of Max, "who's already pretty good - people overdo creating a padded cell because of the kids," there's sure to be a way to make it happen.
"Looking into the future, if I can participate in the complex process that gives architecture the integrity to make a clear statement, that's what I want for my work," he concluded. "I want it to be fresh and connected, well-considered, and, above all, honest."