- November 2, 2024
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I’ve been hearing about Norman Hervieux’s home for years. People in Sarasota’s design community smile whenever it is mentioned. “It’s charming,” they say. Charming and original and clever. The first two adjectives I can understand. But clever? How could a house be clever? What on earth do they mean by that?
But once I walked in I immediately understood. The style is definitely mid-century modern but instead of the rigid rules and design clichés that usually accompany the look of the 1960s, the Hervieux house is full of color and surprises. Subtle juxtapositions are everywhere and they give the house what so many others lack: a story.
More than one story, in fact. Conversations, dialogues and ideas fill the place up.
Take the Bertoia diamond chair, for example. A staple of the mid-century look, it sits in a corner of the living room, proper and expected. What isn’t expected are the two throw pillows. Covered in needlepoint of bright color and abstract pattern, they suggest something crafted by a 1960s psychedelic granny. But placed on the chair they become more serious. The chair gives them class. The pillows give the chair fun. And a conversation is born.
A different kind of cleverness is found in the way Hervieux renovated the house. It started out as a small ranch — 1,100 square feet — of no particular distinction. Without changing much, Hervieux figured out various ways to make the place seem bigger and lighter. From the front door, for instance, you can now see all the way through the house, through the screened porch, to the very end of the backyard.
Even the dining table and chairs don’t slow down the eye. The pedestal design (by Eero Saarinen) means only five legs, as opposed to a more traditional design that would have 16. “Define the space but don’t enclose it,” Hervieux says. It’s the guiding principle of his work.
The home, located just south of the Ringling Museum, has three smallish bedrooms that each serve a different purpose. The master bedroom is cool and dark. Here the designer changed the location of the windows. Now, through large panes of glass you look out at a silver metal sculpture by Vicky Randall that dominates the front yard. The second bedroom, crisp and painted a deep red, serves as a den/guest room. It’s barely large enough for a white leather sofa and a television, but still manages to be chic and cozy. The equally small third bedroom is now the office. It’s full of objects — “my toy chest,” Hervieux calls it — carefully arranged and always changing.
There’s art everywhere, much, much more than in a typical mid-century home. Most of it is from the period, but it remains wildly colorful and eclectic. The big painting in the living room, by Francis Mordecai, was found at the Woman’s Exchange. There’s a stabile by Alexander Calder and two pastels by Joan Miro in the kitchen. And, yes, the painting in the den is a real Stuart Davis, a gift from a friend. But the gold foil designs in the master bedroom were found in a Dumpster on the Ringling College campus, the remains of a long-forgotten student project.
Hervieux taught at Ringling for 32 years, most of it as head of the Interior Design Department. Nowadays he designs for private clients — including Mary Grandpre, illustrator of the Harry Potter books. Locally he’s considered the town’s “designer’s designer,” the one particularly in sync with the creative spirit. And though his own home has a hefty dose of whimsy, he stresses, “I consciously apply the principles of art and design to every project. I can’t stop teaching.”
He also can’t stop telling stories. His home is full of them, a little gallery of ideas that delights the senses.