New York Stories

This home in the East Village stays true to its roots, restoring—not replacing—the original hearth, both physically and metaphorically. The client needed a kitchen that performed to support the family’s focus on food, nutrition, and wellness. They turned to Henrybuilt to design a kitchen that provides the function the family needs with the flexibility to knit into the crevices and curiosities of the space.

Short on counter space, but long on the need for food prep surfaces, a workstation is nested between the pantry storage and refrigerator. The glass-fronted upper storage is set back for visual openness and ease of working.

The stove and slim storage live within the original hearth.

In the work zones, food-friendly butcher block countertops were selected for their softness, warmth, and the natural patina they develop with use and age: a trait the client, and the anything-but-sterile space, desired. That same desire led to selecting Henrybuilt’s live brass pulls that develop personality over time.

The wood’s tone was chosen to offset the inherent lack of light in the garden-level space. The quietness of the light finish unifies the eclectic collection of materials and furniture that surround the hardworking center of the kitchen.

High-functioning kitchen enhanced. Heart and soul of the space retained.

Pre-war buildings embody a defining look of New York streets: grand, bold, and solidly constructed. The apartments inside are known for their thick plaster walls, high ceilings, hardwood floors, and ornate details. The Apthorp, a designated New York City Landmark, is no exception. In fact, it’s exceptional. Within the building, no two of the spacious, light-filled residences are alike.

How does one design a modern kitchen that stands up to and respects the history and architecture?

Steely gray elements in the kitchen create a graphic play that reflects the steel-framed windows and doors.

Henrybuilt’s open shelving adds a classic feel, while the thin profile and powder-coated steel is thoroughly modern.

A beverage cave is accessible but quiet. Things are at hand but out of the way.

The seemingly simple move of adding a color block stretching horizontally above the rich walnut offers balance, preventing a floor-to-ceiling wood monolith from weighing down one side of the room. It lends a refined human scale to the space, like a modern artform or a decorative capital that appears to support the ceiling above.

To call this loft airy is an understatement. This conversion was an exercise in white—not something often associated with Henrybuilt.

The home of a cinematographer, the project was approached as if looking through a lens. The graphic play started with the cube at the center of it all.

A touch of hand and refinement expressed in strategic use of wood and stone.

The white kitchen is framed, not only by the architecture but the contrasting wood. The adaptability of Henrybuilt’s system enabled the island to do a synchronized dance with the immovable column, making the two feel like a natural pair.

The definition of elegant and functional. The hardest working space, the kitchen, sits in the garden facing one side of the grand parlor floor, with its high ceilings and large windows bathing the space in light from the outside.

The design incorporates a clever use of open shelves. Their shallow depth means that frequently used items are easy to access—without having to move others out of the way—while simultaneously hidden from view while sitting in the adjacent living room. There is visual and physical ease and breathing room.

A brass pull perfectly placed so that visual lines are uninterrupted.

Four kitchens. Four characters.

One glance, and it becomes evident that no two are the same. Each is informed by, and lends flavor to, the original architecture that surrounds it. Quintessentially Henrybuilt. Tucked among the tapestry of homes and people—connected by a penchant for living well—that make New York one of the most architecturally diverse cities in the world.