Residential Project
GNOSSIENNE
Tucked in the historic West Adams neighborhood of Los Angeles, this home began as a flipped fixer-upper—a blank, almost echoing space. The homeowners brought with them a rich South Asian heritage, a deep appreciation for music, and a love of meaningful detail that shaped the tone of the design from the very beginning.
The project unfolded over three years, following an intentionally slow rhythm of decision-making and sourcing. This pace allowed the space to evolve into something layered, personal, and quietly alive. Handwoven textiles, tactile finishes, and deeply meaningful artwork were introduced gradually. Much of the art was already part of the homeowners’ lives—pieces with emotional weight and history—while others were found during the process and became quiet centerpieces in their own right. A palette of earth tones, blackened metals, and soft matte surfaces recurs throughout the home like the refrain of a piece composed in free time—unhurried, loosely structured, and rich with subtle transitions.
The interiors are softly layered, like an unfinished thought. They were never meant to speak loudly. Instead, they drift—like music without bar lines, where rhythm arises from intuition. A mid-century credenza holds a turntable and a quiet arrangement of ceramics. Above it hangs a prayer mat by Samira Idroos, a textile artist whose work explores identity, memory, and cultural inheritance. The piece—rich in pattern and inscribed with a poetic phrase—serves as both visual anchor and quiet provocation, drawing the eye without dominating the room. Velvet seating in rust and deep plum doesn’t announce itself, but settles into the light. A soft-bodied lounge chair rests near a sculptural plant—alive, but not loud. Every object, every material, every palette choice was selected for how it would live over time.
The kitchen continues this quiet sense of composition. Pale cabinetry sets a calm backdrop, open shelving holds clay vessels and everyday objects, arranged with a kind of gentle utility. Woven fringe pendants add texture overhead, casting a warm, softened glow.
In the dining area, a red Chinese altar table brings sculptural depth and patina to the space. Atop it, a grouping of objects is anchored by a striking piece of artwork by Simrah Farrukh, an American–Pakistani visual artist whose work adds emotional resonance and cultural depth to the vignette. Just beyond it, three framed portraits purchased in a store in Bangalore add a personal, collected feel and complement the earthy palette of the space.
The small guest bedroom strikes a quietly graphic balance—spare but not minimal, with color used deliberately. A matte black canopy bed gives the room structure, its lines softened by pale linen curtains that filter the daylight. The palette remains muted and calm, until the red bedside table breaks through—a sharp, sculptural accent with a scalloped edge and vintage lamp to match. A wild sprig of green in a glass vase brings a touch of softness and asymmetry. Underfoot, a Pakistani rug—passed down from the homeowner’s mother—grounds the space as a family heirloom, adding depth and a quiet sense of continuity. Though compact in size, the room feels generous in mood—carefully edited, quietly expressive, and deeply considered.
The powder room offers a contrasting interlude. Wrapped in dark floral wallpaper, it becomes a pocket of intimacy. It's a brief, concentrated pause within the overall tempo of the home—slower, enclosed, and slightly surreal. The orange tiger artwork in the powder room is a print by Willa Heart, adding a playful and unexpected burst of character to the moody space.
The primary bedroom returns to softness and clarity. Linen bedding in muted tones creates a visual hush, while oak furniture and matte finishes add warmth without weight. Wall-mounted fabric sconces offer diffuse lighting, glowing gently at night. A painting of a water buffalo by Awais Naqvi—a contemporary Pakistani artist known for his emotive animal portraiture and moody realism—sets the tone for the room. As in the rest of the home, nothing feels fixed; the space seems to hold open time.
The family room adds the most volume. A deep denim sofa grounds the space, flanked by rust-striped pillows and a sculptural cane lounge chair. Lush greenery adds movement, while a piece of South Asian artwork on the wall introduces narrative energy. The piece above the denim sofa in the TV room is by James Jean. The room is meant for gathering, but remains consistent with the house’s overall restraint—expressive without becoming performative.
It wasn’t until the home had fully come into itself that its underlying mood became clear. The space began to call to mind Gnossienne, a series of piano compositions by French composer Erik Satie. While others of his time were composing sweeping symphonies, Satie proposed a quietly radical idea: that music in the future would become furnishing—not something to perform, but something to live among. Background music for dining, for choosing clothes, for simply being. The idea was largely dismissed at the time, even considered absurd. And yet today, the Gnossiennes feel remarkably contemporary: emotionally spacious, structurally fluid, and gently subversive. These pieces were composed without time signatures or bar lines—meant not for performance in the traditional sense, but to be inhabited. They move slowly, guided by notations like lent (slow) and avec étonnement (with astonishment). Instead of commanding attention, they create space.
This home moves in much the same way. It doesn’t ask to be noticed, but it shapes how one feels in the space. It is design not as punctuation, but as tone. Not as show, but as support.
Design here becomes furnishing: a GNOSSIENNE.
PHOTOGRAPHER: CHARLOTTE LEA