<p>When James Ramsey and Jennifer Blumin bought a Tribeca loft from the 1830s, they were determined to keep all the original details: the old windows, the tin ceilings, the brick walls. “You can feel the 19th century here,” James said, “and imagine the gaslit street.”<br /><br /></p>.<p>To be sure, James, a principal of the design studio Raad, and Jennifer, the founder of Skylight, which does adaptive reuse of historic spaces, introduced a few carefully chosen modernist elements: some white walls, pale oak floors and stainless steel Miele appliances in the kitchen. But it is a style that Jennifer described as “warm <br />modernism.”<br /><br />She and James, who are both 37, bought the 2,000-square-foot apartment in 2013, for $1.8 million, and spent $700,000 renovating it. James designed the loft, with Jennifer contributing ideas.<br /><br />Now, a visitor stepping off the elevator is greeted by light filtering through the old glass and an urban grove of philodendron, palms and anthurium growing nearly as tall as the 12-foot ceiling. A teak daybed is piled high with pillows – the couple’s sons, Phineas, two, and Theodore, eight, have been known to lose themselves among those pillows – and a speckled sheepskin is tossed over a sofa. Beyond the welcoming fireplace is a media centre and a low-slung cabinet made of carved walnut, designed by James to evoke vintage stereo cabinetry, a piece he has re-created for several clients. “Remember the speakers in the 60s and 70s?” he said.<br /><br />The kitchen and dining area is in the middle of the loft, a space that is often dark in 19th century buildings, because all the windows are at the front and back. James took advantage of the eight-foot space between this building and the neighbour’s, punching out three windows: one to bring light into the eating area, a second in a guest room and a third in the children’s room. (The one by the dining table has a window seat, which comes in handy when the couple entertains as they do nearly every Sunday.)<br />The Miele appliances in the kitchen are hand-me-downs from friends who were renovating. “It’s amazing what people throw out,” James said. And the 300-bottle wine rack, made out of terracotta drainage pipes, was an inspiration borrowed from another friend, a well-known fashion designer: “We stole the idea from our neighbour, Lela Rose, who lives across the street and has one.”<br /><br />A visitor can’t help noticing another design element in the loft, one that complements all those 19th-century details – a “natural-history feel,” as Jennifer put it.<br /><br />“We love wacky animals,” she said. In fact, there are animals everywhere. A Beluga whale skeleton made from a plaster mold is suspended over the dining table. Photos of giant squid decorate the guest bathroom. A fish mask hangs on the wall in the guest room, and a walrus mask in the boys’ room. And at the foot of the master bed is another sheepskin, this one black and white.<br /><br />“It’s the dog substitute,” Jennifer said, for “the English sheepdog we don’t have.” Why don’t they have a dog? “Jen wants one,” James said. “But I just know I’ll be the one walking it on a day like today.” And he’d prefer to watch the snow from inside, through the 19th century windows.<br /><br /></p>
<p>When James Ramsey and Jennifer Blumin bought a Tribeca loft from the 1830s, they were determined to keep all the original details: the old windows, the tin ceilings, the brick walls. “You can feel the 19th century here,” James said, “and imagine the gaslit street.”<br /><br /></p>.<p>To be sure, James, a principal of the design studio Raad, and Jennifer, the founder of Skylight, which does adaptive reuse of historic spaces, introduced a few carefully chosen modernist elements: some white walls, pale oak floors and stainless steel Miele appliances in the kitchen. But it is a style that Jennifer described as “warm <br />modernism.”<br /><br />She and James, who are both 37, bought the 2,000-square-foot apartment in 2013, for $1.8 million, and spent $700,000 renovating it. James designed the loft, with Jennifer contributing ideas.<br /><br />Now, a visitor stepping off the elevator is greeted by light filtering through the old glass and an urban grove of philodendron, palms and anthurium growing nearly as tall as the 12-foot ceiling. A teak daybed is piled high with pillows – the couple’s sons, Phineas, two, and Theodore, eight, have been known to lose themselves among those pillows – and a speckled sheepskin is tossed over a sofa. Beyond the welcoming fireplace is a media centre and a low-slung cabinet made of carved walnut, designed by James to evoke vintage stereo cabinetry, a piece he has re-created for several clients. “Remember the speakers in the 60s and 70s?” he said.<br /><br />The kitchen and dining area is in the middle of the loft, a space that is often dark in 19th century buildings, because all the windows are at the front and back. James took advantage of the eight-foot space between this building and the neighbour’s, punching out three windows: one to bring light into the eating area, a second in a guest room and a third in the children’s room. (The one by the dining table has a window seat, which comes in handy when the couple entertains as they do nearly every Sunday.)<br />The Miele appliances in the kitchen are hand-me-downs from friends who were renovating. “It’s amazing what people throw out,” James said. And the 300-bottle wine rack, made out of terracotta drainage pipes, was an inspiration borrowed from another friend, a well-known fashion designer: “We stole the idea from our neighbour, Lela Rose, who lives across the street and has one.”<br /><br />A visitor can’t help noticing another design element in the loft, one that complements all those 19th-century details – a “natural-history feel,” as Jennifer put it.<br /><br />“We love wacky animals,” she said. In fact, there are animals everywhere. A Beluga whale skeleton made from a plaster mold is suspended over the dining table. Photos of giant squid decorate the guest bathroom. A fish mask hangs on the wall in the guest room, and a walrus mask in the boys’ room. And at the foot of the master bed is another sheepskin, this one black and white.<br /><br />“It’s the dog substitute,” Jennifer said, for “the English sheepdog we don’t have.” Why don’t they have a dog? “Jen wants one,” James said. “But I just know I’ll be the one walking it on a day like today.” And he’d prefer to watch the snow from inside, through the 19th century windows.<br /><br /></p>