The New York Times: An Artist and a Designer Who Found Their Niche, June 2006
Download Article (.pdf)The massive black walnut tree rising majestically behind the house was a very good sign, for it meant that one of Warren Muller's three requirements for a country place had been met. And it was even before Mr. Muller, an artist, and his partner, RJ Thornburg, an interior designer, had walked through the front door of the 19th-century farmhouse they were checking out in the Pocono Mountains, in Brodheadsville, Pa.
"I told RJ that there were only three things I really needed to be happy," Mr. Muller, 60, explained recently. "A fireplace, a bath and a good tree to hang my hammock."
Mr. Thornburg, 50, who once created rooms by the thousands for Disney and other corporate clients and who today is one of Philadelphia's most sought-after residential interior designers, could easily add a fireplace and a luxurious bathtub to the house if they ended up buying it. But a tree like the walnut, with its large branches strong enough to hold both ends of a hammock, could not be manufactured. It had to be found.
Found objects play a large role in Mr. Muller's life, though the tree was somewhat unusual in that he had an idea of what he was looking for before he found it. His art, which is not simple to describe, is mostly electrified installations that range from playful chandelierlike fixtures built of teapots and samovars to large conglomerations of rusty farm implements, bright orange broom brushes and glass busts of dead presidents.
Most of his pieces are commissioned for specific spaces, but many of those that are not are for sale in Mr. Muller and Mr. Thornburg's gallery, bahdeebahdu, at 309 Cherry Street in Philadelphia.
Mr. Muller's works are constructed almost entirely from everyday objects that he collects on regular pilgrimages to flea markets, junk stores, Home Depots and the like. And though he often knows generally what he needs — "I'm looking for something that could make an elegant pair of sconces," he said, holding up as possibilities two wood-and-steel mole traps that looked disturbingly like some kind of medieval chastity device — more often than not, his collecting is done without a finished product in mind.
Occasionally material even shows up unbidden, like the collection of vintage pedal cars that arrived in a crate sent by friends on vacation in Asia, with a note saying, "We thought you might like these." Mr. Muller thinks they might be useful in a piece he's creating for a Mini-Cooper dealership.
In a way, the house on the wooded lane in the rolling, bucolic hills of Brodheadsville fits into the unbidden-treasures category. About three years ago, Mr. Muller and Mr. Thornburg began a typically relaxed search for a place outside the city. Their first thought was Bucks County, Pa., where they had visited and had friends.
But after a few excursions with real estate agents, they realized that the prices in Bucks County and other similarly popular Philadelphia retreats were more than they were looking to spend, at least for the kind of place they were hoping to find. "All we could afford were these little houses with no land, really, and no outbuildings," Mr. Muller said.
So when a friend came into the gallery talking about her place in the Poconos, a part of the world neither Mr. Muller nor Mr. Thornburg had ever seen, they were intrigued enough to say, "Well, if you hear of something that sounds like us, let us know."
The word came the next day. She had in fact seen a place that seemed to fit the bill — a three-bedroom, about 1,800-square-foot house on a hilly three acres in Brodheadsville, about 25 miles north of Allentown, and roughly the same distance from the New Jersey border. Best of all, perhaps, the sellers were motivated to make a quick sale. Mr. Muller and Mr. Thornburg decided to make a stop there on their way up to a summer rental in Provincetown on Cape Cod.
"We were trying not to seem too excited as we walked around," Mr. Muller recalled. "We didn't want the sellers to know how much we liked it. But we pretty much knew it was great the moment we got out of the car. And then they said, 'Oh, and do you want to see the barn and garage across the road?' and we said, 'You mean those are part of the property, too?' We didn't even know until then."
By the time Mr. Muller and Mr. Thornburg got to Provincetown, they had decided to make an offer, and by the time they got back from their vacation, they had a deal (they wouldn't disclose the price). "We were saying to ourselves, 'Oh my God, what are we doing, are we out of our minds?' "<