The high desert of far West Texas can be unforgiving terrain. Just ask Douglas Friedman, the globe-trotting photographer renowned for his copious talents and bonhomie, to say nothing of his signature moustache and tattoos. Nine years ago, Friedman fell under the siren spell of Marfa, the diminutive Lone Star city and art mecca (population roughly 2,000) once described affectionately by John Waters as “The Jonestown of Minimalism” for its connection to artist Donald Judd. “The desert really doesn’t want you there. You’re in a constant battle against wind, rain, dust, and, in the summer, blistering heat,” Friedman says, reflecting on the challenges of building his serene modernist compound. “For one thing, I didn’t design the house with screens, because I wanted it to feel as open as possible. But I quickly realized that you need screens if you don’t want a scorpion in your shoe, a rattlesnake under your bed, and a tarantula in the sink.”
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Sounds charming. But Friedman is equally emphatic that the creepy-crawly desert critters are part of what makes the West Texas landscape so bewitching. “When you fall in love with Marfa, you fall in love with all of it,” he insists. “Having grown up in New York City, a nice Jewish boy, the idea of living out on the land was incredibly appealing. I have to take two flights and then drive three hours to get there, but the journey culminates at the end of a dirt road, with no visible neighbours and endless views of this incredibly beautiful, soulful terrain,” Friedman muses.
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When it came to designing a suitable house for his 10-acre parcel of heaven, the photographer adopted a sort of Occam’s-razor approach to architecture. “I was going for simplicity—something monastic but attractive, the easiest and most economical thing I could build,” he recalls. “The problem is that there’s nothing simple about building out here, especially when you have to put in power and septic systems and drill a well. Also, simplicity in architecture, with a modicum of grace, turns out to be quite difficult. My humble idea of desert living just kept ballooning.”
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After considering, and rejecting, a wide range of prefabricated options, Friedman settled on a modular system of glulam timbers, steel connectors, and structural insulated panels (SIPs in construction parlance), all shipped to Marfa and assembled on-site under the supervision of contractor Billy Marginot. A taut modernist box laid out on an exacting grid, the house features a two-foot clerestory that completely encircles the structure and makes the roof appear as if it were floating on a cushion of light when the home is illuminated at night. To maintain the integrity of the design, all the mechanical systems and wiring are channelled through the concrete foundation.
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The pool, made from a shipping container, is another prefab element. “It arrived from Canada on a flatbed truck, and we just craned it into a hole we dug. I hooked up the services and was swimming the next day,” Friedman explains. Outdoor amenities at Rancho Friedman also include a shade structure with pop-up screens for alfresco entertaining and a second, Juddian shade structure by the pool.
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For the decorating portion of the process, the well-travelled photographer relied on a formidable roster of advisers and éminences grises. “I’m lucky to have worked with and befriended, some of the best designers in the world, so I naturally turned to them for guidance,” he confesses. That line-up includes Steven Gambrel, who made the chic table lamps in the living room; Nicole Hollis, represented by end tables from her recent collection for McGuire; Brigette Romanek, who helped design and fabricate the green and rose-coloured marble table that anchors the living room; and Ken Fulk, who gifted a brass bar cart inspired by a 1960s Italian model. Friedman himself made his own contribution to the medley in the form of multicoloured cowhide carpets from his new collection for Kyle Bunting.
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In the entryway, a monumental stone table by the contemporary Dutch designer Lex Pott is flanked by a series of seven massive concrete planters, detailed in bronze, by landscape designer Adam Sirak. “I used the planters to create an indoor garden of specimen cactuses. It’s so nice to walk into the space and have a moment to exhale before moving into the big living/dining room,” Friedman says. “I also put a Judd chair in the entry because, well, you kind of have to.”
Notes of eccentricity emerge in the taxidermy pigeons that Friedman attached to the huge swing-arm lamps that light up the dining table as well as the decidedly unexpected de Gournay wallpapers that adorn the guest rooms. “I had this fantasy that I could live in a totally minimalist way, but I’m just not that person. I couldn’t resist having a little fun,” he says of the idiosyncratic jolts of colour and pattern.
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Still, notwithstanding the fanciful British wallpapers, Friedman insists on his bona fides as a true Texas hombre. “This is my home now, and I have a Texas driver’s license to prove it,” he says with apparent pride. “When I’m working on the house or in the pool, looking at the mountains in the far-off distance, I feel genuinely connected to the land, tarantulas and all.”
This article originally appeared on Architectural Digest.
Photography by Douglas Friedman
Styled by Michael Reynolds
January 15, 2020