Guy Knowles’s passion for buying and renovating property went into overdrive 10 years ago. He and his wife had just divorced, and they bought adjoining Rosedale townhouses so they could both be close to their daughter, Zöe. (It was an amicable split; his ex even lived in his basement when she was redoing her place.) A few years later, he moved again, though he stayed within walking distance of Zöe and her mom. Then, two years ago, a 53-year-old Knowles left his job as vice-president of real estate at Rogers shortly after the death of his friend Ted Rogers. Not tied down to work, or to being so close to his daughter (by then Zöe was a teenager), he felt ready for another change.
This time around, he found a 3,000-square-foot Arts and Crafts semi—really more like half of an old mansion—in South Rosedale and set about customizing it to fit his extensive contemporary art collection. That meant configuring rooms with enough wall space to accommodate some of his biggest pieces, including a 125-inch-wide painting by Vancouver-based artist Steven Shearer. Knowles drew an outline of the Shearer directly on the drywall during construction to make sure it would fit. And unlike most collectors, he didn’t paint the walls white, which he thinks is too “galleristic.” He dithered over colour options—until he saw the movie Duplicity and fell in love with the teal walls of the German museum featured in it. Although his designer urged him against it, he immediately had almost every downstairs wall painted that same shade of blue, which also happens to be his favourite colour. He loves how it makes the art pop, and how in combination with the black baseboards it makes the place feel masculine.
But now that he’s finished renovating his new place, he’s itching for change again. There’s already a stack of MLS listings on the table in his front hall.
Knowles bought this photograph at the Cohan and Leslie gallery in New York nine years ago. Called Untitled (James Osterberg, 1970), it’s an image of Vancouver artist Tim Lee—one of Knowles’s favourite artists—performing one of Iggy Pop’s signature backflips.
By framing this oil-on-newsprint work and hanging it, rather than tacking it up or leaning it against a wall, Knowles thinks he’s probably undermining artist Gabriel Vormstein’s message—that there’s nothing new to say in the medium of painting. But then, he adds, “I have a dog, and it was expensive.”
Knowles’s designer, Gloria Ferazzutti, had the couch made with specific instructions that it be deep enough to accommodate her client’s six-foot-two frame.
The original oak flooring—with mahogany, cherry and pearwood inlays—is typical of an early 20th-century Arts and Crafts–style house. Knowles didn’t think he could save it, but his contractor cleaned off all the dirt and grime, took up the whole floor, restored it plank by plank and re-laid it.
The giant white piece on the wall is a 2006 work, Structural Integrity Test, by Canadian Aboriginal artist Brian Jungen. “It’s a very important and sophisticated work,” Knowles says. It’s made of plastic footstools—much of Jungen’s work repurposes mundane objects as art (his whale skeleton made of lawn chairs hangs in the National Gallery). It’s one of the few Jungen pieces small enough to fit in a house, and it hangs in the perfect spot: “When light comes through the bay window, you get a shadow effect referencing Aboriginal shadow play,” Knowles says.
Knowles is a fan of classic rock. His B&W speakers from Son Idéal in Montreal, where he used to live, are great for blasting Zeppelin.
Simply beautiful. And I love the teal. Why couldn’t you tell us where he go those divine white chairs from. So gorge!
August 17, 2011 at 9:59 am | by lucresialintondotcom