WHEN THE CULINARY mecca Dean & DeLuca opened in 1977 in SoHo, then a wasteland of industrial buildings that had been overtaken by artists, the shop was both a harbinger of the glossy retail scene that would soon consume the neighborhood and one of New York’s first importers of now-common ingredients: leatherwood honey from Australia, smoky Gouda from Holland, extra-virgin olive oil from Sicily. Artists like Donald Judd, who had bought a cast-iron building down the street, would swing by Joel Dean and Giorgio DeLuca’s shop every week for groceries. The duo brought to downtown tastes and textures once confined to small European villages, made using centuries-old techniques.
But beyond its gastronomic legacy, Dean & DeLuca also made a name for itself in New York — and eventually, at its more than 40 locations, around the world — for another innovation: its ultraminimalist store design, conceptualized by the artist Jack Ceglic, the enterprise’s unnamed third partner, who was for 46 years the partner of Dean, who died in 2004. (DeLuca, 75, still lives in Manhattan; Pace Development, a Thai real-estate corporation, now owns the company.) Ceglic, then a painter who specialized in figurative portraiture, had no intention of becoming directly involved in the 2,400-square-foot store, but he was the pickiest of the three, so he was drafted by Dean: “He said, ‘You don’t like anything, Jack, so you design it,’” Ceglic, now 83, recalls.
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In an era defined by shag carpeting, wicker baskets and macramé tapestries — the prevailing palette was, as Ceglic recalls, harvest gold and avocado green — he decided the corner storefront should instead be completely free of color or texture: a monochrome box that would contrast against, say, the crimson of sun-dried tomatoes. In keeping with the minimalist floor-through apartment that he and Dean resided in nearby (the current owner has kept it, museumlike, as one of the last examples of the period’s early ’80s loft style, all white columns and exposed piping), Ceglic built out Dean & DeLuca with bright white plaster walls, floors of matching white ceramic tile, butcher-block countertops in bleached maple and glass-and-stainless-steel cases to display the prepared foods and salads, a novel concept at the time. In a gesture that was considered daring 40 years ago, the walls were lined with open chrome shelves, made by a Pennsylvania company called Metro, upon which condiments and crackers were displayed like first edition books. As electricians wired industrial ceiling fans and plumbers hooked up stainless steel sinks, Ceglic pushed most of his metal racks and butcher-block tables toward the middle of the store, creating an oasis of colorful fresh vegetables amid gleaming copper cookware to entice pedestrians, like an installation inside a new SoHo gallery.
Ceglic’s aesthetic — part of an overall movement toward what would be called high-tech design (a combination of “high style” and “technology”) — proved to be enduringly influential, helping usher in a new era of kitchens. A generation of Patrick Batemans who bought Italian seasoning salt at the store started swapping out their maple cabinets and Formica countertops for open shelving, aluminum spice canisters and stainless steel islands with locking caster wheels. The effect was a cross between a commercial-grade restaurant kitchen and a masculine fantasy of the bachelor home cook, with brawny professional-grade appliances, handsome imported knives and Pyrex bowls. In fact, this elegant reconception of the efficient kitchen, which was rapidly becoming the social nucleus of the modern American home after having been a hidden-away female preserve, came to dominate, its high-low appeal blurring the distinction between the industrial and the domestic.
IT IS ALSO how Ceglic himself continues to live. Down a pebbled walkway a few blocks off the main drag of lavishly quaint East Hampton, N.Y., his weekend home rises from the flat terrain like a newly constructed barn, from behind a raw concrete courtyard wall surrounded by a throng of ferns. The 2,300-square-foot home, which Ceglic originally designed for himself and Dean 18 years ago, quietly contrasts with the area’s chocolate-hued, shingled farmhouses and pristine Georgians. Ceglic’s house is constructed entirely from standing-seam steel forged in prefabricated lengths by an Ohio company that specializes in airplane hangars and other industrial buildings; its cool blue-gray finish blends into the Long Island sky and is guaranteed by the manufacturer to last 20 years. The narrow, 20-foot-high windows are the kind used for SoHo storefronts; the horizontally divided, steel Dutch front door is standard-issue for firehouses; the floors throughout the main 48-foot-long living space — “the plaza,” as Ceglic calls it — are poured concrete with radiant coil heating. The walls, skim coated with white plaster, are crowned by three celestial south-facing windows.
Ceglic lives here with his partner, the 66-year-old architect Manuel Fernandez-Casteleiro; they met 14 years ago, after a mutual friend told the architect that Ceglic’s house resembled one of his firm’s dramatically austere residential projects. “I came and saw the house and said, ‘Oh my God!’” Fernandez-Casteleiro starts to explain, before Ceglic finishes his sentence: “We shared the same ideas.”
And good thing they did, because the home, like the high-tech movement it reflects, follows few conventional design tropes. If anything, it’s a testament to stripping away residential clichés — knowing what not to do, recognizing what to leave out. For instance, there are few interior doors aside from a restaurant-style, swinging aluminum one that hides a toilet and a barn door that hides another water closet. The bedroom — little more than an upholstered bed frame surrounded by white metal shelves that hold architecture and design books — is at the center of a master suite ingeniously shaped like a nautilus; as you work your way inward, you reach a walk-in closet in which the couple has hidden a collection of contemporary art that includes Andy Warhol drawings and photographs by Wolfgang Tillmans and Catherine Opie, and then a deep porcelain bathtub originally made for hospitals. In the main room, Ceglic keeps the walls bare “because I have this problem with visual noise,” he says. “I think it’s nice when you have a dinner party and the people at the table become the portrait.” Even the wall switches are very low, 28 inches from the ground, lest they distract his eye.
AS MIGHT BE expected, much of the home is oriented toward eating. Fernandez-Casteleiro does the grocery shopping and Ceglic cooks — simply, from memory, occasionally referring to Dean & DeLuca’s 1996 cookbook — inside a narrow kitchen that’s engineered entirely out of stainless steel fixtures in precise specifications (34-inch-high countertops, two inches shorter than standard to align with his wrists; 34 inches between the island and the oven behind it; no double sinks permitted) that allow him to work without wasting movement. All of it comes from a Long Island supply company that’s now run by Ceglic’s former Dean & DeLuca assistant. They eat at a gangplank-long mahogany table custom made in the early ’80s by Ceglic’s friend Joseph D’Urso, another pioneer of high-tech design, flanked by metallic de Stijl chairs painted a cyan hue, designed in 1927 by the Dutch architect J.J.P. Oud.
Other than that semblance of a dining area, the room is adorned with little more than a giant 20-year-old tree fern that nearly reaches the 20-foot ceilings, a squat wood-fired iron stove, a few Kvadrat-upholstered vintage chairs and some artifacts gathered over the years, such as a Victorian palm pedestal and a carved elephant statue bought decades ago at a yard sale. The couple occasionally updates these tableaus, shopping from a collection of Modernist, Edwardian and Victorian pieces hidden in the basement. In contrast with their strictly controlled interiors, they allow their two-acre yard to largely remain wild, with the deer that proliferate free to munch on the day lilies, clearing space for ceaseless waves of bright green ferns.
The house has always been out of step with what passes for Hamptons style; Ceglic and Dean themselves only ended up here after the decades-long gay reverie that transformed the Fire Island Pines into an AIDS-induced nightmare. But the clean, unsentimental ethos of the residence has gained fans over the years, and other rich creative types nearby have hired Ceglic to design their homes, retreats that while physically in the Hamptons, remain psychographically apart from it. In Bridgehampton, for instance, Ceglic created a compound for five Broadway veterans — the director Joe Mantello, the playwright Jon Robin Baitz and the actors Ron Rifkin, Ken Olin and Patricia Wettig — that appears as several shadow-gray shipping containers linked like oversize Legos.
Inside such pared-down spaces, Ceglic believes life and art are best lived separately. If you follow the alleyway behind his patio, you’ll find another blue-gray structure: a cavernous, 1,000-square-foot cabin fronted by a garage door. Ceglic and Fernandez-Casteleiro built it five years ago, and it is here that Ceglic spends his days, creating the life-size portraits that he has focused on since his early days in New York, a collection of work in the vein of Robert Longo, another hero of the high-tech movement. Recent ones, made in oil stick on 72-inch-by-48-inch sheets of paper, are based on candid photographs he took of 20-somethings obsessively staring downward at their smartphones. When not at the Long Island house, the couple lives in a similarly uncluttered apartment on lower Fifth Avenue in Manhattan; Ceglic finds his subjects while traversing the city, surreptitiously capturing them from across a subway car or waiting in the lobby at the doctor’s office. Typically, these people are too absorbed in texting to notice him as he watches them. The cultural shift toward gadgets that consume us — arguably with the same frenetic verve that characterized the Dean & DeLuca food revolution — has permanently changed the spaces around us. But once again Ceglic has chosen to turn that unease with modern technology into something palatable: art.
Produced by Colin KingB:
白小姐图库马报资料2016【没】【有】【办】【法】【找】【到】【刘】【坊】【的】【尸】【首】，【姚】【穆】【雨】【深】【深】【的】【叹】【了】【口】【气】。 【几】【天】【前】【见】【面】【时】【还】【好】【好】，【没】【想】【到】【此】【时】【就】【这】【样】【阴】【阳】【两】【隔】【了】。 【现】【场】【还】【残】【留】【部】【分】【妖】【气】，【姚】【穆】【雨】【用】【法】【术】【识】【别】，【发】【现】【这】【妖】【气】【有】【种】【特】【别】【熟】【悉】【的】【感】【觉】【好】【像】【在】【哪】【闻】【过】，【但】【却】【想】【不】【起】【来】，【而】【且】【这】【妖】【气】【还】【不】【一】【般】【其】【中】【掺】【杂】【着】【魔】【气】。 【身】【上】【同】【时】【具】【有】【妖】【气】【和】【魔】【气】【的】【妖】【魔】【那】【得】【有】【多】【强】【大】
【那】【么】，【先】【前】【佟】【天】【禄】【现】【身】【之】【时】，【他】【业】【已】【发】【现】【了】【自】【己】，【难】【怪】【冲】【着】【自】【己】【阴】【笑】！【自】【己】【来】【时】，【自】【问】【并】【没】【露】【出】【半】【点】【形】【迹】，【他】【怎】【会】【发】【现】【自】【己】【隐】【身】【树】【上】？ 【他】【此】【时】【无】【暇】【多】【想】，【反】【正】【事】【已】【至】【此】，【自】【己】【不】【挺】【身】【出】【去】，【也】【不】【行】【了】…… 【西】【门】【追】【雪】【一】【念】【及】【此】，【正】【往】【长】【身】【而】【起】…… 【突】【然】，【蓦】【觉】【身】【后】【有】【人】【悄】【悄】【的】【拉】【了】【自】【己】【一】【下】【衣】【角】！【不】！【有】【人】【在】
【顾】【飞】【觉】【得】，【自】【己】【没】【看】【错】【人】。【锻】【造】【道】【器】【的】【方】【法】【是】【小】【事】，【顾】【飞】【不】【怕】【张】【刚】【说】【出】【去】，【而】【张】【刚】【保】【守】【了】【秘】【密】【却】【让】【顾】【飞】【对】【他】【的】【信】【任】【更】【加】【了】【一】【层】。 【去】【看】【周】【静】【时】，【邹】【家】【的】【门】【是】【敞】【开】【着】【的】，【马】【兰】【花】【居】【然】【在】【邹】【七】【月】【家】，【周】【静】【在】【静】【静】【的】【练】【着】【绣】【花】，【马】【兰】【花】【就】【在】【一】【旁】【含】【笑】【看】【着】，【时】【不】【时】【地】【往】【周】【静】【嘴】【里】【喂】【食】【着】【一】【颗】【蓝】【莓】【模】【样】【的】【果】【子】。 【那】【慈】【爱】【的】【模】白小姐图库马报资料2016【虽】【然】【姚】【佳】【欣】【心】【里】【总】【是】【抱】【怨】【一】【个】【人】【撸】【串】【没】【意】【思】，【但】【在】【圆】【明】【园】【的】【夏】【天】，【还】【是】【动】【不】【动】【就】【要】【吃】【烧】【烤】，【碧】【桐】【书】【院】【到】【了】【晚】【上】，【时】【常】【肉】【香】【弥】【漫】，【勾】【得】【一】【干】【宫】【女】【太】【监】【哈】【喇】【子】【直】【流】。 【不】【得】【不】【说】，【烧】【烤】【的】【这】【个】【肉】【味】，【那】【简】【直】【是】【勾】【人】【魂】【儿】【啊】！【前】【世】【的】【时】【候】，【姚】【佳】【欣】【就】【经】【常】【被】【烧】【烤】【一】【条】【街】【给】【勾】【了】【魂】【去】，【明】【明】【是】【出】【来】【夜】【跑】【了】【减】【肥】【的】，【结】【果】【去】【撸】【了】【一】
【新】【鲜】【出】【炉】【的】【鸡】【蛋】【饼】【很】【烫】，【吹】【了】【好】【一】【会】【儿】【才】【放】【得】【进】【嘴】【里】。 【熊】【乔】【果】【张】【口】【吐】【了】【一】【口】【热】【气】。 “【烫】【死】【我】【了】……” “【你】【慢】【点】，【没】【人】【抢】。”【束】【亦】【圈】【说】【道】。 【这】【时】【候】，【有】【两】【个】【很】【年】【轻】【的】【小】【姑】【娘】，【穿】【着】【黑】【色】【的】【蛋】【糕】【裙】，【脸】【上】【画】【着】【浓】【浓】【的】【吸】【血】【鬼】【妆】。 【她】【们】【跑】【过】【来】【站】【在】【束】【亦】【圈】【面】【前】，【其】【中】【一】【个】【女】【孩】【子】【说】【道】：“【帅】【哥】，【要】【女】【朋】【友】
【但】【是】【把】【吴】【雪】【霞】【就】【此】【给】【了】【韦】【宝】，【只】【是】【带】【走】【一】【张】【五】【千】【万】【两】【的】【欠】【条】，【吴】【襄】【又】【有】【些】【不】【甘】【心】。 “【那】【你】【韦】【宝】【的】【官】【要】【是】【越】【做】【越】【大】，【二】【十】【年】【后】【仍】【然】【在】【做】【官】，【这】【五】【千】【万】【两】【纹】【银】【就】【永】【远】【不】【给】【了】？”【吴】【襄】【问】【道】。 “【我】【把】【韦】【家】【庄】【拿】【出】【来】【当】**，【给】【不】【了】【五】【千】【万】【两】【纹】【银】，【我】【把】【韦】【家】【庄】【整】【座】【城】【送】【给】【你】【们】【吴】【家】。【有】【字】【据】【为】【证】，【你】【们】【怕】【什】【么】？”【韦】【宝】
【萧】【墨】【开】【门】【进】【去】，【房】【间】【里】【没】【有】【单】【妍】【身】【影】，【空】【荡】【荡】【的】，【安】【静】【的】【过】【分】。 【即】【便】【他】【是】【心】【里】【早】【有】【了】【准】【备】，【可】【这】【一】【刻】，【他】【的】【心】【依】【旧】【难】【受】【的】【厉】【害】。 “【妍】【妍】，【你】【走】【了】【吗】？” 【许】【久】【没】【有】【人】【回】【答】【他】，【萧】【墨】【也】【知】【道】【自】【己】【这】【是】【在】【妄】【想】，【人】【都】【离】【开】【了】，【他】【还】【能】【奢】【想】【些】【什】【么】【呢】？ 【又】【在】【期】【盼】【些】【什】【么】？ 【桌】【上】【有】【单】【妍】【特】【意】【留】【下】【的】【信】【纸】，【只】【有】