ELLE Decor
December 2008
Make it Mod: Antiques dealer Deborah Buck mixes exotic finds and design treasures in her unconventional farmhouse. By Dan Shaw
Deborah Buck is a risk-taker who operates by instinct. For 20 years she was an abstract painter who dabbled in buying and selling antiques. And then in 2001 she passed an empty storefront near her apartment on Madison Avenue in New York with a FOR RENT sign. She immediately envisioned the lonely space as a sprightly home furnishings shop. She signed the lease, but before the store could open, the terrorist attacks of 9/11 shook the local economy. A moment of personal hesitation followed, but the dealer-to-be was unbowed. Buck House was in business.
Today that establishment proffers Dorothy Drapper tables, 1960s German ceramics, and Maison Charles lamps, though it defies easy categorization because the only style the Maryland native purveys is her own. "When I go on a buying trip, I bring back things that are exceptional," says Buck, a veteran of enthusiastic search-and-acquire missions in cities as diverse as Barcelona, Buenos Aires, and Stockholm. "I call it treasure hunting. If it wouldn't live in my own house it won't live in Buck House." Or on her—she likes to wear bold estate jewelry, another of her shop's specialties. "I am attracted to the weird pieces, and I have been known to sell jewelry off my arm," she confesses. "If you are looking for something sweet, my shop is not where you are going to find it. I am, of course, my own best client."
Her grasp is catholoic but discerning, and her weekend place in Garrison, New York, a picturesque hamlet on the Hudson River, is like a decorative arts encyclopedia of the glam and the glorious... a Venini light fixture here, a Chinese Deco rug there, plus Japanese studio pottery, a Danish Modern desk, a Giacometti lamp, and contemporary photography. In decorating the 19th century farmhouse, Buck neither rusticated it with overstuffed furniture and countrified antiques nor stripped it down to a minimalist manor. Rather she has approached the rooms she shares with her husband, Christopher, and their teenage son, Sam, as collages that reflect not only her wonderlust but also her training as an artist. "I don't think of decorating as a science or as a discipline," explains Buck, an alumna of the renowned Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture in Maine, which she attended on a scholarship funded by a family friend, Abstract Expressionist Clyfford Still. "People always say start with the rug, but it is often the last thing I end up selecting. I begin with whatever makes my heart sing. I love making still lifes of objects and playing with color, form, and shape in space. Moving around furniture and accessories is like moving colors on a palette."
Initially, however, Buck focused on finessing the appearance of the house, which was idyllically situated on an unpaved road with a stream and a barn out back but in need of some cosmetic renovations. "I call it the inside-out house because we kept its tectonics visible," she says, pointing to the aged beams in the kitchen and living room, massive stone wall behind the cook top, and wide-plank pine floors. "They are the stars of the show," she says. "They're actually the heart of the building."
Like many farmhouses, Buck’s Garrison getaway had been added onto willy-nilly over the years. The décor she installed has a charmingly haphazard quality too, with an eclectic array of furnishings, art, and colors that seems casually assembled rather than strictly curated. Yet there was a method to her madness and an educated eye assessing every object and sometimes improving them. For instance, Buck had the wrought iron door latches and hinges sent out to be smartly chromed; ditto a set of antique fireplace tools. "Sometimes you have to give old things a new life," ‘she says, pointing to a Gio Ponti leather sofa and chairs. “Yes, I had them reupholstered. That would be anathema to some people." So would living with blemished furniture, but Buck is a woman who instinctively turns lemons into lemonade. “Someone sat on this chair in a wet bathing suit," she notes, pulling out a caramel tone dining chair whose water-stained seat she hasn’t bothered to replace. “That’s our history," she adds, laughing. “The house is an album and travelogue, which gives the mix so much context.”
The master bedroom is a compelling jumble ranging from Hans J. Wegner rocking chairs to a coverlet that resembles a French version of Hudson’s Bay Blanket, Buck observes. “I wanted it to look like an Indian blanket but all grown up.” Her living room, on the other hand, is much like her store, a surprisingly well-composed grouping of pieces of fabrics that she makes work together because they reflect her exuberant sensibility. And it has definitely had an impact. Visitors frequently ask if Buck would consider decorating their house; she always demurs. That way she doesn’t have to justify or explain any design choices. As Buck puts it, “I am willing to make mistakes—but just for myself.”
