A Playboy Pad: New Haven Haven

Shortly After architect Charles Moore accepted the position of chairman of the architecture department at Yale several years ago, he purchased a small, century-old New England frame house near the university and then checked into a hotel for six months. "I wanted my home to be both visually exciting and eminently comfortable," Moore, a 43-year-old bachelor, explained. "And to do it within the walls of a New Haven cracker box was a creative challenge I couldn't resist, even though it meant completely revamping the interior of the house, from cellar to attic." Creative, indeed, was the lengthy remodeling job. Instead of merely knocking down walls and widening windows to obtain additional space and light, Moore chose to open up his pad vertically by cutting holes in the floors and constructing three plywood towers (Moore calls them tubes) of varying heights that stand about a foot away from the original inner walls of the house. Then, to further the illusion that his digs contain a large amount of floor space--instead of the modest 1400 square feet of living area that was left after the towers were constructed--Moore fashioned geometric cutouts in each of the towers, so that one constantly sees glimpses of colors, objects, patterns and shadows in other sections of the house. These surprising vistas play tricks with the viewer's perspective and do, indeed, make Moore's domain seem bigger than it actually is.

The unique configurations also make the pad an ideal place for entertaining. "Guests usually first head for the bar I've set up in the kitchen and dining area that has been created out of what was once the basement," (concluded on page 186) Playboy Pad (continued from page 128) Moore says, "and then ramble about the three other floors [the top floor is really a guest cove tucked away under the eaves] until they find a room, nook or cranny where they can stop and talk. All I need to do is set out the ice and glasses and the house seems to take over and do the entertaining for me."

Once inside the front door, a visitor immediately finds himself opposite the first of Moore's three towers: a two-story shaft painted metallic gold that extends down to the former basement. On one of the tower's walls, Moore placed two ancestral portraits (see page 129); while directly below them is an antique Wurlitzer jukebox stocked with vintage 78s.

Guests who have just arrived can either take the steps in front of them down to the kitchen and dining area or turn left past the tower into the foyer, where Moore stationed the five cutout numerical panels seen on page 126. Since each panel moves on an individual track, the sequence can be altered and new combinations formed, as whimsy dictates. At night, back-panel lighting can be switched on so that the wall will illuminate the Oriental rugs that have been scattered about the foyer's polished-oak floor.

At the end of this passage is the central tower pictured on pages 127 and 129, an open shaft painted metallic silver that extends to a skylight near the roof's peak. From the high ceiling, Moore has hung an 18th Century Mexican lantern that's been converted to electricity. Its pale light reflecting off the silver walls produces a shimmering glow, while leaded stained-glass windows mounted in one of the third floor's cutout spaces add a vivid splash of color.

Below and to the side of the central tower is the living room. Along three walls, Moore built in a deep corduroy-covered couch upon which guests can sit or sprawl, perhaps to watch the flames in the pad's 100-year-old brick fireplace that stands adjacent to one corner of the couch. Over the fireplace is mounted a framed reporduction of an ancient map of Rome. So that the room remains uncluttered, Moore limits its furnishings to a 19th Century English chair and a huge African basket. The latter seves as a handy storage bin for magazines, newspaper, phone directories and--surprise!--the phone.

At the rear of the house, Moore replaced the weathered New England clapboard with a glass wall, installed a sliding glass door that leads to the fenced-in rear patio, pictured on page 126, and covered the opening to the cellar stairs with another sheet of glass, thus turning the steps into a tiered greenhouse. This important remodeling feature not only keeps the first floor bright and cheery but also ensures that the previously mentioned kitchen-dining area located at the rear of the house directly at the base of the third tower will receive maximum sunlight.

This portion of the pad, reached from steps just beyond the living room, is as compact and orderly as a ship's galley. Along one wall, Moore built in the latest in kitchen appliances: a stove, dishwasher and minifridge, plus roll-out trays for utensils and several bins for storing dishes, glasses and a generous supply of potables. Over the sink (as can be seen in the picture on page 126) is mounted a neon number 42 that was created by graphic designer Barbara Stauffacher for a show at the Architectural League in New York City. It's an excellent example of Moore's eclectic approach to decorating, as he's quick to point out that "a house should be a personal environment filled with things that visually turn you on to life."

For dinner parties both formal and casual, guests sit at a 12-foot pedestal-style dining table with a butcher's-block top. Around it are positioned a number of collapsible director's charis that can be stashed out of sight in one of several under-the-stairs closets. Over the table is a rheostat-operated chandelier (pictures on page 129) that's comprised of sockets and bulbs, all wired together into a unique light fantastic.

In a corner of the kitchen-dining below-ground area, Moore built in library shelves for his sizable book collection. Nearby, a rope hammock lies ready to be hung across the base of the pad's front tower, just below the ancestral portraits; guests can lounge there and gaze up into the tower or read a magazine by the light from the Wurlitzer.

The third floor or Moore's eminent domain is reached by a flight of stairs just off the living room. On this level, Moore allotted space for both work and play; a built-in desk and bookshelf located directly to one side of the pad's central tower is used as a small study; while, nearby, a stereo rig and a collection of records stand ready to amplify classical, jazz or rock music into the three-story tower, thus filling the house with music.

Just around the corner is the master bedroom, which has been furnished with the camp canopy bed and vinyl spread seen on page 128. Draftsman lamps have been mounted to the curved headboard, which has built-in shelves for books and an extension phone. Into the canopy roof, Moore mounted a baroque print of a cathedral dome and, just for the fun of it, painted a cluster of stars that continue on across the ceiling and down the wall to the headboard. Wardrobe needs are kept in a closet and shelf unit built into a bedroom wall.

A half bath containing a large theatrical-style mirror that's bordered with bulbs is located next to the bedroom, and across the hall is a tiled double-sized shower stall. Bath towels are hung on a towel bar just an arm's length from the shower. Behind the towel bar in mounted another large mirror; thus, this portion of the fully carpeted third floor is actually one large-sized bathing-dressing room rather than three separate areas. The sauna-sunlamp room pictured on page 128 is just around the corner.

Up a short flight of stairs from the sauna is the aforementioned fourth-floor guest cove. Because of the low-bridge slant of the roof, Moore placed a double mattress directly on the floor and covered it with a colorful spread. A mini-closet built into the opposite walls stands ready to hold a week's supply of wear-ables. By day, the scene is lighted by sunshine that floods through a skylight. At night, amateur guest astronomers can pop into bed and stargaze.

Strolling through Moore's house at any hour of the day, one is constantly entertained by his visual conjuring. But it's after dark that the pad really becomes a showcase for Moore's creative wizardry. A variety of modern light fixtures, many of which utilize clear bulbs, have been placed in unexpected recesses--often in order to illuminate art objects; one steps from pool of light to pool of light and in and out of shadows, thus heightening the illusion that the floor space is bigger than it actually is. Moore, in fact, has painted with light--not with sweeping brush strokes but with large and small applications of illumination as if the house were a giant canvas.

Moore also paints with colors--boldly contrasting vivid reds and yellows against the stark white walls. This eye-popping style of decorating has been dubbed supergraphics, a word Moore defines as painting outsized designs on a surface in order to alter a viewer's perspective and make the painted object appear larger than life-sized. Moore's knowledge of supergraphics is firsthand; the architectural firm Moore-Turnbull, of which he's a copartner, has been dabbling with the technique for several years.

When Moore steps outside his digs, he's within a few minutes' walking distance of the university and of Moore-Turnbull. But whether involved in university activites or on a business trip in his latest acquisition--a twin-engined Cessna 310--Moore is constantly looking for even fresher ideas that will keep his pad's decor ahead of the times. It's not only New Haven's undisputed Now Haven but also a personally satisfying creation and a constantly changing testing ground for new ideas and unusual effects--and that's just what Charles Moore wants it to be.