Carport Conversion Project

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Grace’s Barbershop opens at 10AM.  I know this.  I know all about Grace’s barbershop; it has 3 barber chairs and the red and white swirly thing at the door - it’s the real deal.  It’s located down a commercial alley off of Santa Monica’s Montana Ave.  But you can’t miss it because Grace’s Barbershop has a 30’ sign in bright red and yellow plastic letters running down the roofline of a 6-car carport at the mouth of that alley. That’s the carport I’ve been contracted to convert into a stunning sanctuary for opening night of the Roni Stretch exhibit at the Deborah Page Gallery.  This is good, right?  I’ve already done the gorgeous bathrooms, and dining rooms for entertaining industry moguls.  Give me a garage.

Joking aside, virtually every design project comes with at least one major challenge.  Sometimes it’s a structural column where we desperately need open space; sometimes it’s a large…um….unattractive piece inherited from a dearly missed relative.  These limitations challenge us.  They force us to bend our design ideals around very real problems. In the case of this carport, the challenge lay in hiding the functionality. Yellow painted stripes on the concrete ground delineated the individual parking spots.  Each spot had its own storage cabinet in the front, above which peg-board was hung. Unnervingly thick, ropy power lines were bundled together and run the length of the walls - exactly at eye level for fun.  But once the cars were pulled out and I had some quiet time to just sit and gaze at the oil spots, I could visualize the potential. 972 sf of rectangular space, a perfectly acceptable 9’ ceiling, three enclosed walls and one long side open to the alley with columns every 27’ for support.  It was indoor-outdoor, it was private.  My God, it was a cabana.  It felt like it wanted to be a private cabana.

Next, I focused on Roni Stretch’s art.  I wanted the reception behind the gallery to blend seamlessly with the exhibit taking place in the gallery. Roni’s dichromatic paintings, named for the alternating layers of two different colors of paint on a linen canvas, are subtle and quiet.  Their subject matter is mysterious and hidden.  Likewise, I wanted the redesigned carport to be “hidden” in the sense that it should blend into the alleyway and seem as if it were an oasis that belonged there.  The ideal color scheme for achieving this was grey and white, with a white-washed pale blue for accent.  Using a multitude of textures would reinforce the layering technique in Roni’s artwork.  The biggest challenge was how to cover the ground of the carport. I considered two alternatives: blowing a dense fog that would hover over the ground, and the more conventional solution of carpet.  The fog was tempting, but I was concerned that the open side would make it impossible to maintain enough volume to cover the floor, and the yellow-painted stripes, completely.  So I opted for carpet, choosing a short-piled dark grey with a luminous sheen that hinted at the illusion of metal.  The back wall of cabinetry and pegboard was the next hurdle.  The best solution was to come forward two feet and create a false wall by running alternating panels of heavy grey velvet and palest blue linen.  The contrast in texture, color and weight was intended to reinforce Roni’s layering design process.  Finally, the open-sided wall presented the perfect opportunity to play with privacy and exposure.  Heavy stark-white cotton panels were suspended every twelve feet and tied in a knot a foot above the ground, creating a rhythmic suggestion of open-enclosed-open-enclosed.  The rest was easy.  I suspended three absolutely stunning black-and-white glass fixtures from the ceiling for high-drama.  Floor-standing black and silver candelabras and a rickety old butler’s cart provided a hint of 1890s Parisian elegance, as did the vintage café bar.  Bent metal chairs of galvanized steel were scattered around the perimeter adding a sense of funkiness, and floral arrangements in frosted cylinders with velvet ribboning communicated sterile, tragic beauty. 

So it was a parking lot and then it was a haven of cold glamour and 4 hours later it was a parking lot again.  Design inspiration bubbles up from the most unexpected sources. In the case of this project, its inspiration sprang from juxtapositions: dichromatic layering, density versus transparency, exposure versus enclosure. Collectively, these design elements transformed an everyday carport into a venue where people were inclined towards a moment of quiet gazing before they reached for a drink and the merrymaking began.  Since this is the reaction I wanted, I knew my design process had been successful.