The endlessly entertaining, delightfully distracting 500 square feet apartment of Duane Bousfield and Juan Carlos Rojas simultaneously evokes a casbah, Catholic cathedral and Zen sanctuary. Elaborately embellished crystal chandeliers illumine lushly layered Oriental carpets. An astonishing collection of hand-carved wood friezes, pediments, corbels and mouldings garnish varicolored walls between Bousfield's abstract surrealist paintings, curios, glittering jewelry and antique tiles.
"If it's not moving - decorate it," is Bousfield's motto.
The visitor is so dazzled by the opulent opium den décor she doesn't realize that the tiny Hell's Kitchen tenement apartment is really an ingeniously designed funhouse to accommodate - and conceal - the overflowing lives of two busy New Yorkers.
It's possible to curate amazing collections in tiny spaces as long as you are mindful of every addition's "foot print," explained Bousfield, an artist and art consultant. (Rojas, who provided most of the antique rugs and textiles, works as a home health aide.) "A lamp has a foot print (takes up floor or table space) so - no lamps! If you can hang it on a wall or hang it from the ceiling, it's so much easier to find space for it," Bousfield explained.
Too, it helps to analyze one's space and "find little spaces to put shelves in. It's really about finding little pockets," such as niches above door lintels that make nifty shelving to keep all the items of daily life, said Bousfield.
The 1870s-era tenement may lack lamps, but it doesn't lack for lights: Rojas and Bousfield have rigged up ingenious grow lights under shelves - and disguised by gorgeously carved ornamental pediments - to coax begonias, African violets and orchids into bloom or with fluorescents to provide spot-lighting.
The antique chandelier in the main living area looks of a piece, but is actually festooned with "30 extra pieces" of pendants and prisms." The bedroom chandelier - purchased at the Hotel Intercontinental's going-out-of-business sale - is similarly augmented. "It needed to be fuller," Bousfield shrugged.
Here are some of Rojas's and Bousfield's space-saving strategies for their tenement apartment:
A front-opening chest is the base for a giant Chinese cupboard that conceals regularly used kitchen appliances. On top of that are Chinese boxes that hold Christmas decorations. "There's a place for everything and everything is in its place," said Bousfield.
Hide the "functional objects" like foodstuffs, clothes, and tools. Sweeping keys and tchotchkes into a decorative lacquer box, 1940s chiffarobe, or designated drawer, eliminates clutter.
Bousfield and Rojas priced out a Home Depot closet at "several hundred bucks," but instead opted for two sliding Chinese temple doors found in a Queens warehouse at $100 a pop. They slapped little wheels on the bottom and built a closet around them with tracks on the bottom. "We added a book case on the end for stability" that also provided extra storage, Bousfield noted.
Measure the places where you need a piece of furniture and keep the specs with you while shopping stores and flea markets.
The men's collection of Imari and fancy dinner ware is in a screened hutch in the bedroom. Why? The hutch's height was just right for a needed bed stand but the dimensions inside were perfect for the Sunday dishware. Bathroom products and medications are in a retro Malibu cupboard next to the only sink (a double one) in the apartment. A huge wooden candlestick serves as a hat rack in the ante room.
"If it's not moving - decorate it," is Bousfield's motto.
The visitor is so dazzled by the opulent opium den décor she doesn't realize that the tiny Hell's Kitchen tenement apartment is really an ingeniously designed funhouse to accommodate - and conceal - the overflowing lives of two busy New Yorkers.
It's possible to curate amazing collections in tiny spaces as long as you are mindful of every addition's "foot print," explained Bousfield, an artist and art consultant. (Rojas, who provided most of the antique rugs and textiles, works as a home health aide.) "A lamp has a foot print (takes up floor or table space) so - no lamps! If you can hang it on a wall or hang it from the ceiling, it's so much easier to find space for it," Bousfield explained.
Too, it helps to analyze one's space and "find little spaces to put shelves in. It's really about finding little pockets," such as niches above door lintels that make nifty shelving to keep all the items of daily life, said Bousfield.
The 1870s-era tenement may lack lamps, but it doesn't lack for lights: Rojas and Bousfield have rigged up ingenious grow lights under shelves - and disguised by gorgeously carved ornamental pediments - to coax begonias, African violets and orchids into bloom or with fluorescents to provide spot-lighting.
The antique chandelier in the main living area looks of a piece, but is actually festooned with "30 extra pieces" of pendants and prisms." The bedroom chandelier - purchased at the Hotel Intercontinental's going-out-of-business sale - is similarly augmented. "It needed to be fuller," Bousfield shrugged.
Here are some of Rojas's and Bousfield's space-saving strategies for their tenement apartment:
A front-opening chest is the base for a giant Chinese cupboard that conceals regularly used kitchen appliances. On top of that are Chinese boxes that hold Christmas decorations. "There's a place for everything and everything is in its place," said Bousfield.
Hide the "functional objects" like foodstuffs, clothes, and tools. Sweeping keys and tchotchkes into a decorative lacquer box, 1940s chiffarobe, or designated drawer, eliminates clutter.
Bousfield and Rojas priced out a Home Depot closet at "several hundred bucks," but instead opted for two sliding Chinese temple doors found in a Queens warehouse at $100 a pop. They slapped little wheels on the bottom and built a closet around them with tracks on the bottom. "We added a book case on the end for stability" that also provided extra storage, Bousfield noted.
Measure the places where you need a piece of furniture and keep the specs with you while shopping stores and flea markets.
The men's collection of Imari and fancy dinner ware is in a screened hutch in the bedroom. Why? The hutch's height was just right for a needed bed stand but the dimensions inside were perfect for the Sunday dishware. Bathroom products and medications are in a retro Malibu cupboard next to the only sink (a double one) in the apartment. A huge wooden candlestick serves as a hat rack in the ante room.