Artist in Residence

When an Australian-born writer asks two Argentinian furniture designers to help overhaul his Hollywood cottage, the results are pure genius.

By Kathryn Harris
Posted on August 31, 2007

In 1992, when writer and lawyer David Warwick Francis acquired his home in a decidedly unfashionable section of Hollywood, few of his friends were clamoring to come over for a visit. The house was dilapidated, and they pronounced the neighborhood—just south of Sunset and Vine—sketchy at best.

But Francis was drawn to the convenience of the location, 15 minutes from both his downtown law office and Atwater Park, where the Australian-born equestrian used to stable his horses. He was also charmed by the hints of English and French cottage architecture, complete with a 20-foot glass-paned ceiling in the living room, ersatz wood beams and niches in the plaster walls. The house’s illustrious past—one of a complex of eight, it was built in the 1920s by Paramount Studios to house out-of-town screenwriters—also appealed to Francis, who, after moving in, completed his debut novel, The Great Inland Sea, in the attic.

While the attic remains rustic, decorated with photographs and memorabilia from Francis’ days as a professional show jumper, the remainder of the 1,200-square-foot home has been transformed into something Francis’ design team, Sundayland, has dubbed “Hollywood Pop.”

Through a few simple moves, the soon-to-be-superstar design duo of Juan Diego and Fernando Gerscovich have fashioned a dramatic and witty backdrop for their client. Whether the brothers— who trained as architects in Buenos Aires—are working as architects, product designers or interior designers, their delight in their work is palpable. “We like to take things to an extreme, to create movie sets for real life,” says Juan Diego.

The Gerscoviches’ playfulness resonated with Francis, and they appreciated his penchant for the unexpected. The three met socially over a Thanksgiving weekend in Palm Springs at the home of their mutual friend and artist Caz Love, whose Briar Rose dress sculpture now hangs in Francis’ living room. “Many of my friends in L.A. have houses that are very sophisticated and well-designed, but they’re a bit beige and demure for me,” says Francis, slinging a pin-striped pant leg over a 1960s armchair in his living room. “Sundayland allowed me to express my eccentricities and whimsy in a way that’s cohesive. I call them sophisticated bohemians.”

The living room is filled with an easy mix of eclectic modern and vintage pieces. Two of Sundayland’s first product designs, the 2004 Woody lamp and Cactus table, pop against dark wood floors, a Mongolian cashmere area rug and dusky tobacco-colored walls. A Sputnik lamp hangs like an asterisk overhead. In one corner, a circa-1880s upright Hartmann piano, which Francis bought from the grandmother of a friend in South Central Los Angeles, was given a high-gloss white finish; the accompanying stool was upholstered with one of Sundayland’s signature sheepskin rugs, dyed fuchsia. A writer friend, Julianne Ortale, inscribed the sheet music with, “I dreamed you were in love, riding bikes across very pretty soft water,” which Francis notes is “both lovely and oddly confusing, don’t you think?”

On the other side of the stairway, the square dining room is anchored by a Saarinen table and Jacobsen Ant chairs. These sleek Scandinavian classics are given a new twist against an unlikely backdrop of 1980s pink and blue wallpaper featuring a roseentangled latticework trellis.

“I can tell a lot about people by the way they react to the house. It makes some people a little nervous,” says Francis with a laugh. “The dining room wallpaper is always the best test.” While actor Peter Paige and Sex and the City producer Darren Star both think it’s a lark, author Janet Fitch, a member of Francis’ writing group, just shakes her head. Despite the polarizing effect of its wallpaper, the dining room is a charming invitation to step out to the adjacent patio, where Sundayland whipped up black cushions for Francis’ white wicker furniture. The homeowner loves to decompress with
friends here amid the papyrus, banana trees, giant staghorn fern and a spitting cherub fountain that muffles the sounds of city life.

Other cues not to take anything too seriously in the house include a small David statue standing over the doorway and a
Venus above the living-room fireplace. The bedroom showcases other ironic touches, decorated with gold damask wallpaper and bedside tables that Sundayland concocted from light-up waterfall paintings, found in Chinatown. “There is no huge reasoning behind our ideas. We work instinctively and have fun creating spaces for people,” explains Juan Diego. “Each room should highlight its function.”

Like most extreme makeovers, Francis’ house was completedin stages. The messier work was done while Francis was traveling, something he does for three months of every year: regular trips to the family farm in Gippsland, Southeast Australia; his Deco apartment in St. Kilda, Melbourne; and Paris, where he won a writing fellowship to the Cité Internationale des Arts.

“I live in every room in the house, even the landing, where I’ll sometimes listen to music. But oddly enough, the attic is still my favorite place—it’s where I meditate and write,” says Francis, who is currently forging his third novel, set in Los Angeles, about a crazy young writer. He is also adapting the screenplay of his first novel, a tale of love and loss that follows a boy as he travels from Australia to America with a horse. “Looking out from the attic window reminds me of being back on the farm in Australia,” Francis says wistfully. But the sight of a certain iconic hillside sign and the fantastical style of the rooms below are reminders that this is a tale set firmly in Hollywood.