Schubert’s “garage” is breathtaking. Beautiful. Exquisite. But where are the tools, the work benches, the girlie calendars? Schubert concedes that it isn’t a typical, oil-on-the-floor garage, and he’s comfortable with that. “I wanted to create a backdrop for the car as a piece of art,” he says.

“I like very pure, minimalistic, empty space,” the German-born Schubert says. Think polished concrete, lots of glass and halogen lighting. “I like to be in a space where things line up and nothing stands out.”

It’s not just a Ferrari though: Schubert used to have a Maserati in there too, if only for a few photo shots.

One wall is covered in Homasote, a special type of recycled paper-fiber board, with a single-tier bookshelf built in. Two walls are floor-to-ceiling glass with retractable exterior shades to cut down on the afternoon sunlight. Overhead, the central skylight is artfully bisected with an aluminum enclosure for halogen lights.

To avoid exhaust fumes when the car is started, Schubert built a hydraulic ramp into the floor. The ramp tilts up about six inches at the front, enabling the car to roll back across the bridge and into the street before it’s started.

Further proof that the automobile role as machine has been abandoned in favor of its status as objet d’art: There are no wrenches, screwdrivers or battery boosters lying around – and Schubert will need them if the Ferrari remains true to form. Such a garage is consistent with the fact that modern cars are largely inaccessible to the tinkering, shade-tree mechanic. Most people never open the hoods of their cars. Instead, this garage has a lovely modular couch, two Dodo recliners by Toshiyuki Kita, a metal and stone coffee table and a flat-screen TV on tracks that can traverse the length of the room. “People in L.A. care so much about their cars and then the cars wind up stuck out in garages,” says Schubert, whose garage truly brings the car into the living space.

There has always been good reason to separate cars from living space. Cars are kind of stinky and oily. In modern cars, the passive reeking of gas and oil has largely been overcome by strict clean-air requirements that limit out-gassing. Soon, emission-free electric cars will “really open up the design of houses,” says Schubert, so that people will be able to drive directly into the home. It would make unloading groceries easier. Schubert looks forward owning an electric car, and his garage is pre-wired for a high-capacity charger and has 49 solar panels on the roof. But the electric car will have to sleep elsewhere. The Ferrari, he says, “has found its permanent home.”

When he found this loft in an arts district downtown, he knew it was a perfect fit. Rigaud wanted the vibrance of his art collection to provide the color to the space and opted to keep the concrete walls and white painted drywall just as it was.

“I wanted to keep everything open,” he says. In planning out how to use the space, he focused on the entertaining he wanted to do, keeping things uncluttered, choosing the right light fixtures and providing the right backdrop for his Haitian art collection.

“I love to cook, I love to entertain, and I love to throw dinner parties, says Rigaud. So he took the space most people use as the living area and made it the dining area.

Large windows on two side of his unit flood the home with natural light.

This is a TV-free zone. “When I entertain people, we don’t sit around and watch TV,” he says. Thus, he turned the second bedroom into a den and relegated the television to that space

You can get a good feel for the layout of the public spaces in this image. The bedrooms and public spaces form a U-shape around the kitchen and two bathrooms. “I already had this table, and because it was wooden and so heavy, the wire chairs were a good match,” says Rigaud. He also installed the light fixture, called Larmes, which means “teardrop” in French. It is composed of 24 teardrop-shaped bulbs that cast a wonderful light for entertaining.

“I didn’t want to leave this area empty, or fill it with too many things,” says Rigaud of this space next to the front door. Four Barcelona chairs surrounding a marble coffee table from CB2 create a conversation area. A perfectly-scaled drum pendant, also from CB2, hangs overhead, and a floral painting by his mother, Jeanne Rigaud, brightens up the space. In fact, most of the paintings of flowers and women you see around the loft are his mother’s work.

“My mother is 86 years old and is self-taught,” says Rigaud. “She started painting about 20 years ago, in her 60s.”

Rigaud kept the cabinets and granite counters that were already there when he bought his loft. He added a beautiful and reflective glass mosaic tile backsplash he found at Clad Tile and Stone.

Acrylic counter stools give guests a perch where they can keep Rigaud company while he prepares dinner

A bookcase separates the master bedroom from the main living space. A mix of books and Buddha heads fill the shelves. Rigaud has been collecting Buddhas from all over the world for many years.

The mermaid on the wall is from another Haitian artist who creates sculptures from junk found on the streets

The vibrant floral painting over the bed is by the late Haitian artist St. Pierre. It extends draws the eye up from the headboard.

Two fun owl table lamps from West Elm provide reading light.

Tate Bed and nightstands: Crate and Barrel

Here you can see how bedroom number two is tucked away beyond the public areas of the loft. In order to keep those areas TV-free, Rigaud transformed this room into a television den.

More paintings by his mother, a Noguchi coffee table and a comfortable sectional outfit the cozy space

While this is a fairly well-sized balcony, there isn’t room for a lot of stuff,” says Rigaud. “I wanted to provide seating and room to move around.” A well-timed visit to a DWR closeout sale provided him with the sofa and chairs, which he says he got for “just about nothing.” The West Elm stools work double-duty as cocktail tables and extra seating

Some of his designs are classics—even if you don’t know who he is you will have seen his Papier Japonais or La Palmas textiles in someone’s house somewhere. He also spends a good portion of his time making art, both sculpture and works on paper and he is currently shopping a delightful picture book manuscript as well as designing collections for Clarence House and Hermès. His new book, Clarence House: The Art of the Textile, is both a visual presentation of this textile house’s fabric collections and an illumination of Yoshida’s creative design process.

The same sense of imagination applies to decor, and there too Yoshida knows his business. The interior he designed for his loft in New York City’s Tribeca neighborhood demonstrates a talent for both engaging aesthetics and practical needs. The furnishings reflect Yoshida’s numerous interests, as well as his delight in what he calls “making conversations.” Figuratively, this means the visual crosstalk between the gridded geometries of a rare set of 1905 Josef Hoffmann nesting tables and the sensuously curved lamps on a three-arm Serge Mouille chandelier. Literally, it means that Yoshida excels at creating spaces where people can comfortably sit and chat.

The last is key, to Yoshida’s way of thinking. After leaving his native Japan, he took a grab bag of art and design courses in London and New York City. But, he says, the best education he received came from “simply hanging around with and talking to smart, creative people.” One of these was Robin Roberts, the founder of Clarence House, whom Yoshida met in 1980. “We just clicked,” the designer says. “He taught me everything I know about textiles. Back then, I had a taste for only clean, Zenlike designs. But Robin introduced me to a new world—pattern and color combinations stretching from the 18th century to those by 20th-century designers such as Dorothy Draper and Madeleine Castaing.” Yoshida absorbed all these influences in his designs for Clarence House. His wallpapers tend toward lyrical Japanese botanicals, and his woven works echo Cubist art (he pays homage to Fernand Léger, among others) and antique kimono motifs.

That sweeping sensibility is at play in Yoshida’s loft. Impressed by Alan Tanksley’s sleek and serene design for the condo, including a trim kitchen with French limestone counters and stainless steel appliances, Yoshida sought a cool backdrop for his diverse furnishings and objects, painting the wood-paneled walls in battleship gray and bright white.

Not surprisingly, his collection is wildly eclectic. Pieces are by turns antique, exotic, vintage, cutting edge, minimalist, and maximalist. They come from Europe, Asia, Africa, and the United States. The living area is anchored by a zebra-stripe upholstered Art Deco bergère and a 1950s Milo Baughman sofa and matching club chairs. In Yoshida’s work space, a zebra-skin rug sets off a classic leather-and-rosewood Eames lounge chair and ottoman and Marc Newson’s fiberglass Felt chair. The master bedroom contains a 1950s red-lacquer Japanese table. A pair of unrolled and framed antique Asian calligraphy scrolls—one covered in Chinese characters, the other in Japanese—hangs above the bed, which is flanked by a small table by Koloman Moser (a founder of the Wiener Werkstätte) and a pair of vintage wall lamps by René Mathieu.

The artwork deserves a special note. While Yoshida owns works by the Belgian artist Jan De Cock and by Sonia Delaunay, most of the pieces are of his own making. His favorite format is to layer painted segments of wood in a box, giving the artwork a 3-D effect. He does both abstract pieces and figurative work. A whimsical composition called Birdie—an arrangement of six boxed elements that recalls the famed glass birds made on the Venetian island of Murano—is the centerpiece of the guest room.

Placement is also a kind of art, and Yoshida has done a sterling job of creating seating arrangements tailored to encourage banter. The dining area, outfitted with a Vladimir Kagan table and chair set, is adjacent to the kitchen, so guests can hold forth with the cook. “I love to entertain, but usually don’t invite more than six or eight people,” Yoshida says. “In large groups, people rarely get beyond polite chit-chat. At a smaller party, you can have a truly meaningful discussion.” And, as Yoshida knows, a good conversation can be the starting point for just about anything.

Poggenpohl cabinetry and French limestone countertops in the kitchen; the stools are fromDesign Within Reach, and the wall ovens and cooktop are by Thermador.

In the guest room, artworks by Yoshida hang above a daybed upholstered in a Clarence House fabric; the étagère is Japanese, the 1950s wall lamp is by René Mathieu, and the side table is by Eileen Gray.

A Serge Mouille chandelier hangs above a dining table and chairs by Vladimir Kagan; the photo work is by Jan De Cock.

In the master bedroom, Asian calligraphy scrolls hang above a Charles H. Beckley bed upholstered in a Clarence House fabric; the Japanese lacquer table is from the 1950s, a pair of vintage French armchairs are upholstered in a Clarence House fabric, and the Tibetan rug is from Aero.

In the study, Marc Newson’s Felt chair from Cappellini, an Eames armchair and ottoman, and a Saarinen side table; the 1960s floor lamp is by Arredoluce.

The artworks and rug in the apartment’s entrance hall are by Yoshida, and the table is by Roger Tallon; the chair is by Satyendra Pakhalé, the mobile is vintage, and the curtains are of a Clarence House fabric.

In the living area, a Milo Baughman sofa and armchairs are upholstered in a Clarence House mohair; other furnishings include a Vladimir Kagan cocktail table, a French Art Deco bergère, and a wall lamp by Jean Prouvé. Yoshida created the sculptural piece above the fireplace and designed the rug.

Photographs by Jeffrey Hirsch and Erik Piasecki

With a ceiling height of 4.45m, right from the start, this project overwhelms its viewer. The whole interiors were modified to create large open spaces while at the same time retaining the great sensitivity of the building’s history. All the mouldings, wood flooring and detailing have been preserved which aids in the preservation of unique elegance and poise within. One of the most spectacular details is the existing mirrors throughout the residence which have been restored to represent one of the most dominant features. In the living room, the gold plated life size mirrors at opposite ends of the space bring about an overly opulent feeling reminiscent of the Versailles where the skirting, dado rails wood panelling and ceiling motives make you appreciate the old times.

These surrounding details have been applied with the starkness of white to elevate and create a light feel while the inset furniture and soft furnishings within the perimeter primarily consist of dominant black. There is a sense of aristocratic living in combination with a sexy through for example the artistic pieces all around you. Art is a major part of the space, the pieces of furniture were chosen by artistic convictions; a Rick Owens chair, a leather marquetterie gaming table (a unique Deuce piece), a Galerie Fortin armchair and Pierre Chareau wall lighting. In other words, an apartment designed for a true art collector.

Moving away from the main living area the ratio of the residence mildly shifts from aristocracy to more contemporary modern living. The kitchen is the center of the home: an area of life with an art ad family gathering. Now moving towards the master bathroom all aristocracy is once again restored. At this point one would expect us to analyze the master bedroom, but when it comes to this overwhelming en-suite glamour we have to be true to our selves and say that for us this IS our master HEAVEN. White polished marble throughout, the exposed shower, black sliding floor to ceiling partitions and inset day bed, I think there is absolutely no need for us to go on except to say that this is our modern Cleopatra bathroom, but in modernization terms, milk is substituted for Veuve Clicquot champagne.

SO-AN have a signature design style, which is very fortunate because along with everything else, it possesses the demanded sexiness, poise and the much-wanted felling of elitism.

This intervention is a dense complex box that contain the kitchen, mechanical and secondary space; it divides the public and private area of the loft.

A primary feature of the box is a series of huge sliding doors that can open the entire perimeter of the loft of that can extend the exterior walls to close off bedroom.

This way you can arrange it any way you want: if you need more space simply use these doors and you will have more space. If, on the contrary, you want some privacy and want to divide it, fine – do that. You only use the limits when you feel the need to, which is great. The whole loft has hard floors, covered with big tiles or big stone plates, something that makes it a bit too cold to my taste. But if you use it for a painting workshop or something similar, then you have a reasonable point.

All the furniture is modern and very functional, with futuristic design and no trace of wood unless intended to be used as decoration like covering the door of some device. The ceiling is pretty high, so they use some big and powerful ceiling lamps that are pretty unique in style and bring an extra touch to the general design of the apartment.

To create a living room scaled to their vast collection of modern art, Marino converted four small rooms into one loft-like space. At right is Gilbert and George’s Growing Up.

“Art is part of the environment,” says Marino, who helped the couple assemble their collection.  Cambodian sandstone heads are displayed near Damien Hirst’s Potassium Chloride. Love, 1966, is by Robert Indiana.

On one wall of the entrance hall is a five-panel canvas by Jorge Pardo. Anish Kapoor’s Blood Solid is on the floor. Felix Gonzalez-Torres did the light sculpture. The gorilla console is by François-Xavier Lalanne.

Many of the furnishings, accessories and fabrics in the living room, as throughout, were designed by Marino’s firm, including the pair of ebonized and gilded-brass bookcases, the fringed sofas, the bronze pillow fabric and, at right, the pair of lampshades trimmed with antique sari fabric. On the circa 1970 Plexiglas low table is a circa 1900 hammered-bronze bowl from Japan. The painting, Witness, is by Richard Serra.

“It’s a very gracious house,” says Marino, who preserved original elements such as the crown molding. “There’s nothing tight or narrow.”

The first piece of art the couple bought together—Sol LeWitt’s Wall Drawing #767—dominates a living room sitting area. The pair of slipper chairs are Marino’s own design.

The dining room’s vertical-stripe wallcovering makes a lively backdrop for a light sculpture by Leo Villareal, over the mantel, and a work by Paola Pivi, at right. The lamps are by Josef Hoffmann. Tiffany’s silverware.

Converting a club into a residence is “adaptive reuse,” says Marino. “It was fascinating to watch the switch.”

“I said, ‘Let’s go nuts here and make the whole room an artwork,’ ” Marino says of the powder room, which was painted by Eli Sudbrack. The cabinet is by Gio Ponti; the chandelier is by Verner Panton.

Marino treated the paneling in the master bedroom with Venetian plaster. The canvas at right is by Mark Sheinkman; at left is a 1981 oil by Marc Chagall.

Meanwhile, the towering 11′ ceilings yield gallery-size walls that are ideal for displaying art. The front entrance opens into a vast, sweeping loft space configured into large living and dining areas. One end is continuous with a large, open kitchen.

The bedrooms, meanwhile, are separated from the main space by pocket doors, which allow easy transition from openness to privacy.

If you happen to find $1,950,000 somewhere, you can even buy it.

This residence & gallery is a celebration of clients’ inspired lifestyle, expressed through the design. Overall, it is an expression of the unity between art and architecture.

The couple began to buy all sorts of things such as creations of local graffiti artist Barry McGee or Shepard Fairey, JR and Os Gemeos. They reached a moment when they had collected over 120 pieces and at that time the couple realized they would need a bigger home if they wanted to keep doing that. They moved into this lovely loft that offers them the perfect interior structure. Wardell’s office has a rectangular that the couple calls the “dinner’s ready slot”.

In 2007 the couple decided to purchase a 3,200-square- foot former Chinese laundry and tooth-powder factory. It had a very large and column-free interior that allowed them to divide the space as they wanted. They also decided to create several cozy rooms. They placed the master bedroom at the back, away from the street. They also wanted to maximize the daylight and to have plenty of space to showcase the art they have collected. In the end it all turned out great. It’s an unconventional home but the owners are unique as well. It’s like the house resembles its owners.

But this immaculate space is also the perfect backdrop for its ownerâ€s finely honed collection of Italian industrial design from the 1960s and 1970s, which includes furniture and lighting by legends like Joe Colombo, Cini Boeri, Mario Bellini, Gae Aulenti and Angelo Mangiarotti. Their particular brilliance at combining function and form while exploring the newest materials and technologies of their day resonates with Renaud-Clément, who views these pieces as sculpture as well as furnishings.

The Italians made work that could fit anywhere,

he said,

even in an old palazzo.

In this case, the palazzo is the former factory of the Eagle Electric Company, in a neighborhood that appealed to Renaud-Clément precisely because it hasnâ€t yet been gentrified, a fate that long ago befell the Manhattan ZIP codes where he used to live. When he bought the space, the kitchen was at the one end of the loft that had windows, and the bedroom was completely enclosed. With the help of Steve Blatz, a New York architect, Renaud-Clément moved the kitchen to the other end of the space and opened up the bedroom. He left the wide hallway essentially empty: “It energizes me,” he said.

And if the furnishings are deliberately spare — “I donâ€t like accumulation,” he declared — so is the art. Works by artists like Yuichi Higashionna, Not Vital, Hedi Slimane and Michael Phelan punctuate the glowing whiteness of the space.

Sometime soon Renaud-Clément, ever the editor, will auction off some of the pieces from his design collection, which currently totals about 450 things. But among those Italian classics he refuses to part with are two Ferraris from the 1970s and a 1967 Maserati Ghibli, which its owner calls “a mythical car.” They are an extension of Renaud-Clémentâ€s passion for Italian design, but, like the chairs and lights in his loft, theyâ€re not meant to be museum pieces: he drives them around New York and takes them to Europe every summer. Extravagant, perhaps, but can you imagine someone who lives like this driving around Europe in a rental?