Author: Sheri Baer

Words by Sheri Baer

Draped in a dreamy white dress with flowing sleeves and a plunging back, Aira Bubnelyte glides across the floor in the arms of her partner, Tomas Atkocevicius, impeccably attired in black tux and tails. “This is so Fred and Ginger—I love it!” enthuses the announcer as the couple twirls to the rise and fall of Count Basie’s “One Mint Julep.” “So smooth—the epitome of grace and formality,” the commentary continues. “They are doing the classic essence of ballroom.”

The setting: the PBS-televised Ohio Star Ball in 2005. And it was just one of many stops—or steps—in the extraordinary journey that’s swept Tomas and Aira from their hometown of Kaunas, Lithuania, to the elite ranks of competitive DanceSport, and ultimately to the Peninsula, where they channel their shared aspirations into San Mateo’s Dance Vita Ballroom.

Waltz. Jive. Cha Cha Cha. Salsa. Quickstep. Samba. Whether students opt for competitive, social or fitness dance—group lessons or private—the couple describes the outcome as uplifting, strengthening exercise. “When you dance, every muscle group of the body is working,” notes Aira, “and it’s also really therapeutic. You have to think a lot when you dance—doing the steps, listening to the music—so people forget their daily struggles.”

As lifelong dancers and teachers, Aira and Tomas credit education with playing a vital role in their success. Before they can guide the fast directional changes and staccato movements of the tango or the slow-quick-quick rhythm of the foxtrot, they have to entice feet onto the floor. “People here don’t know about ballroom dancing,” explains Aira. “Dancing with the Stars helped a lot, but that’s also not quite the same. The biggest challenge is for people to find out about it.”

That’s hardly the case in the couple’s home country, where dance is deeply embedded in Lithuanian culture. Dance competitions draw enthusiastic fans, and ballroom dancing is promoted on buses and regularly broadcast on TV. “In Lithuania, ballroom dancing is very popular as a sport,” affirms Aira. “It’s almost right after basketball.”

Aira herself began taking lessons at the age of six and can barely remember a time before dance. “I slowly fell in love with it, and then it became my passion,” she recalls, describing the discipline and training that led to winning major titles including World Youth Ballroom Champion and Amateur World Cup Ballroom Champion. “It’s always a battle inside you to fight with your butterflies,” she shares. “I loved the competing part of it, I loved the travel and I loved the community itself.”

Tomas started dancing at eight, but he admits it was far from love at first step. “My family made the decision, and I went along with it,” he recounts. “I was always at the bottom of the field because I was competing against kids who started at six and seven.” At 13, Tomas got his first taste of winning and finally succumbed to dance’s allure: “When you get a good result, it feels fantastic. It feels very rewarding.” At one point ranked first by the International DanceSport Federation, Tomas became a four-time Lithuanian Amateur Ballroom Champion.

Although they grew up in the same hometown, Tomas and Aira didn’t find themselves in a two-hand-hold position until they were older. At the ages of 26 and 20, they became dance partners—which also led to becoming life partners. “It was very natural because we spent a lot of time together, and our goals were the same. Eventually, we started to develop feelings for each other,” says Tomas. “First, it was just dancing and then little bit by little bit…” smiles Aira. “Even though I said I will never marry a dancer.”

After competing in the World Championships in Miami in 2003, the couple accepted a course-altering invitation to visit a friend in the Bay Area. Struck by “how beautiful life is here,” they envisioned a future for themselves on the Peninsula. “At that time, it was a lot of social dancing here, not a lot of competitive dancing,” Tomas says, “so we felt we could build something.”

Initially competing and teaching in studios all over the Bay Area and beyond, they realized their dream when they opened Dance Vita with two dance friends in 2011 (they are now solo owners) and settled in nearby San Carlos.

With a teaching staff and 7,200 square feet of ballroom space, Dance Vita’s schedule is packed with offerings. West Coast swing, bachata or salsa? Latin cardio? Friday Social Party? Argentine tango? Recognizing how overwhelming the choices can be, the studio offers a free group lesson and a 30-minute private lesson for new students, who range in age “from four years old to 80-something.” “That way, if they don’t know what they want to do, they can come in and try different things,” says Aira. “For people who feel like, ‘I have two left feet,’ I always say, ‘Just come and try.’”

In Ballroom Fitness, instructor Razmik Papian leads students through tango steps to Ed Sheeran’s “Bad Habits.” “Right foot forward, arms up,” he instructs, as the class progresses through basic elements of five ballroom dances. “You don’t partner up. You follow the teacher, the moves, and it’s nonstop,” describes Aira. “It’s mainly for stamina, for cardio, so it’s more like a gym type of workout.” While the fitness classes skew heavily to women, Aira and Tomas were surprised to see group social dancing classes (which rotate partners) filling up with men. “Engineers love to dance,” Aira observes. “In dancing, you have to think about how to do things, figure out the directions, the steps. They feel like they are in their own niche with that.”

Another popular offering is Dance Vita’s wedding package, which prepares couples for their first dance. When Aira and Tomas first opened the studio, they didn’t even know that was a thing. “So we said, ‘Okay, let’s start it,’” says Tomas, “and it took off.” In four lessons, couples learn a small routine choreographed to their favorite song. “It feels more special,” adds Aira, “and they don’t feel as awkward with all the guests watching them.” On the competition front, the couple takes pride in Dance Vita’s reputation and what their students achieve. “We have national champions at all categories—from the pre-teen to the senior level,” reports Tomas. “Some of them are world champions or world finalists as well.”

With their six-year-old son Oskar added into the mix, the quickstep has become a way of life for the couple. Some days, they say it can be midnight before they finally find a chance to talk. Despite the breathless pace, they are grateful to be partners in this particular dance. “I love coming to work every day,” reflects Aira. Tomas nods in agreement: “It’s nice to go to work because it doesn’t feel like work. The studio feels like an extension of our home.”

Cha Cha Cha

dancevita.com

Words by Johanna Harlow

What is it about the swell of a symphony that leaves us breathless? “To understand words, our brain has to make sense of what’s being said—but with music, it’s direct,” explains Paul Phillips, who has conducted more than 75 orchestras, opera companies and ballet troupes worldwide—and currently oversees both the Stanford Symphony Orchestra and Stanford Philharmonia. “We listen to a certain piece of music and suddenly we can be crying or feel ecstasy.” The conductor-composer thoughtfully adds, “We don’t even know for sure what came first: singing or speaking. There’s a theory that singing came first. There’s a book about that called The Singing Neanderthals.”

Paul credits a catalytic music festival during his teens for propelling him into classical music. “I was relatively old,” he says. At the mature age of 16, he was already a decade behind many of the masters. “Musical prodigies are giving concerts when they’re five and six years old,” he states with matter-of-factness. But when Paul was swept up in a daring Mozart piano concerto with Stravinsky’s “Firebird” as the triumphant finale, he couldn’t resist the call. “I was trembling at the end. I mean, I couldn’t stop shaking,” Paul recalls. “I just felt this overwhelming need to find out more.”

Although he played trumpet in a jazz band before this pivotal experience, classical music and conducting now consumed him. “This could be a really interesting thing to do with one’s life,” he remembers thinking. Despite his “late start,” Paul amassed considerable hours conducting band and choir performances during his high school years. “If you think of music in terms of colors, symphony orchestra has such a rich variety,” Paul describes. “An orchestra has many different types of sounds…The range is so vast.”

In fact, Paul explains, the complexity of the music is why the conducting role arose in the early 19th century. “It was considered impolite to turn your back on the audience—so the orchestra would follow the conductor from behind, and the conductor would be out there smiling at the audience,” Paul informs with his own smile. “Mendelssohn came along and said, ‘Well, that’s not a great idea.’ So he turned sideways—because he wasn’t gonna turn his back to the audience. He’s a little too polite for that.” It was the irreverent Wagner who first broke etiquette by addressing only his musicians. “It was very controversial,” Paul laughs. “It took decades for that to be considered acceptable.”

Orchestra and Academia

After acting as Director of Orchestras and Chamber Music at Brown University for just under three decades, Paul moved to Palo Alto in 2017 to take his current position conducting both the Stanford Symphony Orchestra (a 115-member group) and Stanford Philharmonia (a 40- to 50-member chamber orchestra).

To a twenty-something Paul, all this would have been news. “Academia was not my plan,” Paul confides. After college, he held positions at the Frankfurt Opera and Stadttheater Lüneburg with the intention of climbing the German opera house ladder. After he won the Exxon Arts Endowment Conductors Program, a conducting position at Greensboro Symphony Orchestra drew him back to the States. Positions at the Savannah and Maryland Symphony Orchestras followed.

Despite his early reservations about taking a collegiate role, Paul has grown to appreciate the enthusiasm of university students. “They’re so eager. They have this incredible passion!” he observes. “They’re trying to make great music happen and everybody’s giving all that they can.”

As his students leave the nest, Paul also finds reward in watching where they land. One of his students, Charlie Alterman, went on to be musical director (and pianist) for several Broadway shows including Godspell, Pippen and Martin Short’s one-man show Fame Becomes Me.

A Lyrical Adventure

When Paul isn’t rallying the orchestral troops with expressive hands and a swift baton, he composes—to date, a number of orchestral works, theater music, an opera and a ballet. Research is his other calling. It so happens that this professor is also a leading expert on the musical ardor of Anthony Burgess, an author most well-known for his novel A Clockwork Orange, which features a sociopath incited to acts of mayhem by classical music. “It wasn’t that he wrote books and wrote music—it’s that he did both and they were completely connected with each other,” expresses Paul. “Burgess said novelists should learn from composers how to structure a novel and suggested that they do this by applying musical form to literary form.” Paul published a hefty book on the subject called A Clockwork Counterpoint.

Paul shares that it was the author’s obituary that launched him on this investigatory path. It began with a quote: “I wish people would think of me as a musician who writes novels, instead of a novelist who writes music on the side.” Paul thought, “‘Wow, that’s a strong statement. What is this music?’” Swept up on a quest for answers, Paul wound up in Monte Carlo, cataloging Burgess’ musical scores for the author’s widow. “I couldn’t believe how much of it there was and how good the quality of it was!” he recounts. Paul later performed these pieces live and created the first-ever recording of the author’s music.

Above all, for Paul—whether he’s setting tempo with his baton or uncovering unpublished gems—it’s music’s emotion that continues to strike the deepest chord. “You can feel love and you can feel regret and you can feel joy,” he rhapsodizes, “and all these things just by the way the music enters your ears and resonates with your body.”

Words by Sophia Markoulakis

An idyllic family-friendly oasis, San Mateo’s Baywood neighborhood presents a distinctive composition of Spanish revival, Tudor and colonial-style homes. Front yards are meticulously maintained, and sidewalks are wide enough to push a stroller or tag behind a toddler’s first attempt at training wheels. With meandering roads that gently bend to the area’s topography, this coveted series of several blocks are filled with children playing outdoors and neighbors congregating with a glass of wine on a warm evening. It’s exactly that kind of hard-to-find character that Lauren Rilliet and her family were seeking 12 years ago when they decided to leave San Francisco. When a Baywood property came on the market, they jumped on it.

Pregnant with her second of three children, Lauren knew the move would signify a new phase in life. Not long after, she left her career at the brand, Gap Inc., where she had worked for 16 years. When she began remodeling her Spanish revival home, she often referred back to her experiences at Banana Republic where she was a fashion director and built out stores.

Knowing how to create retail spaces and style a collection of clothing came in handy. Today, she implements that knowledge as an interior designer for her firm Lauren Rilliet Design. “Putting together a home is not that much different than putting together a fully-styled outfit,” she observes. “It seemed like a logical progression to go from fashion to interiors.”
Lauren’s home, with its classic Spanish Mediterranean charm, needed a new kitchen and bathrooms. Right around the time she was wrapping up her last bathroom remodel, a neighbor asked if she could assist with hers. Six years later, Lauren has helped facilitate dozens of small and large home makeovers including more than 10 in the Baywood neighborhood.

For a recent project, a stately Parrott Drive colonial, Lauren teamed with Jeanne Davis of Davis Architecture to transition the interior’s Hollywood regency glam into a more authentic, laid-back space. One of the main tasks was to open up the home to more light and infuse a sense of comfy intimacy. “We lightened up the wood floors, added white oak for warmth and changed out fixtures,” she says. “We actually lowered the ceiling in the main living space to accommodate lighting and create a cozier feel. The wood beams were added to achieve that as well.”

By adding a wall, Davis Architecture also achieved a more welcoming entryway and improved the flow to the rest of the house. Lauren opted for a modern light fixture to juxtapose the antique rug. “We mixed in antiques with cleaner lines,” she notes.

The home’s boho-styled powder room speaks to Lauren’s preferred design aesthetic. “We were looking for a ‘wow’ moment there,” she further elaborates. “The family travels frequently, and we wanted to reference that with the wallpaper’s rich color palette.” The bamboo Chippendale mirror and mix of finishes on fixtures amplify the desired look.

Given Lauren’s personal connection to Baywood, her design projects focus on keeping close tabs on the architectural integrity of the homes she updates. “My style aligns with these homes, especially the Spanish revivals with their hand-painted terra cotta tiles. My clients are respectful of their home’s architecture and the original intent of the house,” she explains.

In Lauren’s own home, the arched leaded glass windows and wood beams speak to the home’s Spanish revival provenance. Unlike her client’s colonial on Parrott Drive, she darkened the wood floors so that they would better ground the family’s heirlooms and antique rugs. Many of the heirlooms—like the antique Chinese pottery and antique clock—come from her husband’s family. It’s an eclectic style that aligns perfectly with her home and the Baywood neighborhood—a charming community striving to remain close to its original design and intention.

Additional Design Credits

Architect: Jeanne Davis / Davis Architecture

Builder: Victor Perez / VP Construction

Landscape: Jim Redman / Elements Landscape

Historic Flavor

laurenrillietdesign.com

davis-arch.com

Words by Sophia Markoulakis

Keith Quiggins doesn’t like the word “trend” when referring to interior design. “I prefer the term ‘direction’ because trend tells me, ‘OK, this is going to be here for a hot minute,’” he explains. “Direction infers that this is where design is going.” Keith, owner of the luxury kitchen and bath design firm Rococo & Taupe, had just returned from Paris Design Week when we chatted, and since it takes a couple of years for European design trends to make their way here, he should know how the future looks.

Keith stresses that international shows like Paris Design Week and Milan’s Salone del Mobile are intentionally avant and meant to push boundaries. His Menlo Park showroom on Santa Cruz Avenue is where he captures his stylistic impressions through kitchen vignettes and samples of the latest appliances, cabinet hardware, plumbing fixtures and surface materials. Undoubtedly, his clients depend on him to prognosticate design thinking. “When you have a showroom, you have to keep your finger on the pulse of what people are asking for and still be inspirational. People will walk in and say, ‘Oh my, I’ve never seen this anywhere else,’ and I’ll say, ‘Well, yes, because I just saw it two months ago in Milan.’”

When Keith opened his kitchen and bath showroom almost 10 years ago, he picked Menlo Park, in part because of its proximity to high-end homes and construction projects, and he notes that 75% percent of his clientele reside within a five-mile radius of the showroom. Being a Mountain View resident, he could have established his business farther south in Saratoga, but admits that Menlo Park ultimately won out simply because there were no other design showrooms on the street at the time. Today, he is a founding member of the Menlo Park Design District, a one-stop community of over 20 downtown shops, galleries and designers.

In June, Keith is planning a 10-year anniversary party for his showroom, but the milestone is just the latest for this designer who has worked in the home design and construction field for more than 30 years. “We do whole-house remodels, but our main focus with the showroom is kitchens and baths—the two rooms that people think are the most important in the house.” Since the pandemic, Keith points to another growing category: cabinetry for home offices, entertainment centers and wine rooms. “Outdoor kitchens have also been very popular as people continue to split their time between work and home,” he adds. “I’ve done more outdoor kitchens in the last two years than I did in the previous seven.”

The name Rococo & Taupe refers to Keith’s aptitude for working with a wide range of styles. “I display multiple styles in the showroom, and I wanted a name that speaks to that. Rococo references the 18th-century ornate French style and taupe is a very modern and versatile color. Many people come in and say, ‘I totally get it.’”

As an avid cook, Keith is drawn to kitchen design. He switches up the display kitchens in his showroom about once a year and each reflects his talent for blending high-end materials and appliances with efficient workspaces that are meant to be used and not just admired. One of his favorite workhorses in the kitchen is a galley sink that functions not only for cleanup but also for prep work. For cooking, he’s not a fan of double ovens, preferring convection and steam instead. “There’s nothing better for a loaf of French bread than a minute or two in a steam oven to freshen up its crust,” he quips.

Keith is also very excited about invisible cooktops powered by induction technology. Installed underneath a solid surface such as granite, you’d never know a cooktop was there until you place your pan on that exact spot and start cooking. “It creates a cohesive, easy-to-clean surface and maximizes counter space,” he says.
The showroom also presents bathroom vignettes as luxe and modern as their kitchen counterparts. “The primary bath is an oasis away from the kids,” Keith observes.

According to a recent Pinterest Predicts report, oversized walk-in spa-like showers are in and built-in bathtubs are out. Keith concurs and says, “I still do a lot of freestanding tubs, but I’ve taken out more drop-in tubs than I’ve ever put in.” He explains that he’s also doing a lot of bathrooms that reflect the client’s desire to age in place. “Often, we’ll drop the floor in a shower, so there’s a curbless entry and add a bench inside,” he says. “We also do an extra-deep medicine cabinet with hidden outlets inside for personal care appliances.”

What you won’t see in Keith’s showroom are any white kitchen vignettes. He admits that it can be a little risky in his line of work to forgo the ever-popular white Shaker look, but it’s not what he does. “I want to create spaces that are unique while addressing the client’s aesthetic,” he says. Right now, he’s drawn to rich, saturated colors like terra cotta, wine, emerald green and navy blue that play nicely with warm neutrals like, well, taupe. The colors work really well with highly-veined statement slabs that are not only installed on countertops but also function as a backsplash. As Keith sums up, “Our clients don’t want to come in here and see anything that they might have seen when they were running through Home Depot looking for a toilet lever.”

As Palo Alto’s Ashly Edwards Huntington walked through Atherton after a recent splash of rain, she recalls being overwhelmed by how vibrant everything looked and how wonderful everything smelled. “And then…” she notes, “I stepped into this massive puddle! When I looked past my soaked jeans, I was pleasantly surprised by a gorgeous reflection of the sky.” Capturing this Perfect Shot reminded Ashly that even frustrating mishaps can lead to delightful discoveries.

Image by Ashly Edwards Huntington / @aehgallery

Calling all Shutterbugs: If you’ve captured a unique perspective of the Peninsula, we’d love to see your Perfect Shot. Email us at hello@punchmonthly.com to be considered for publication.

Words by Sheri Baer

Colorful boats perfectly reflected along a canal in Burano, Italy. Tannery workers processing leather in dye pits in Fez, Morocco. A pair of Gentoo penguins squawking in Antarctica. Each image teleports you to a distinct, far-off place, prompting curiosity and careful study.

“For me, photography is really a treasure hunt,” remarks Bill Scull, a Los Altos tech executive who successfully merges art with a lifelong passion for travel. “I love trying to capture images that tell the whole story in one image—about a culture, about a person, about a scene.”

In Bill’s case, it’s a creative quest that’s taken him all over the planet—nearly 100 countries to date—from Cuba to Croatia, Ghana to the Galapagos Islands, Patagonia to the South Pacific. Originally from the East Coast (with a childhood that included extended stays in the Marshall Islands), Bill first embraced photography as an engineering major at MIT. “I needed a creative outlet to balance out the highly intense engineering curriculum,” he recalls. “I love the act of photography because it causes me to be very tuned into my environment.”

Stanford Business School brought Bill west and the “spectacularly better weather” and business culture kept him here. In 1984, he settled with his family in Los Altos, eventually pivoting from a career in tech marketing and strategy into executive coaching, which includes mentoring social entrepreneurs and business founders in Africa and South Asia.

Balancing family and career with excursions, travel lectures and commercial assignments, Bill continues to click away. As to what catches his eye, what triggers the snap of the shutter? “A face could be amazing or a reflection. There’s the way colors work. I’m very attracted to human artifacts, human clutter,” he says. “Clothes on the line, shoes at the doorstep, coats on the rack, pots and pans in the kitchen.”

That shared human experience is the basis for connection, he explains. And the act of travel—engaging with different places and cultures—is what makes headlines from distant parts of the world feel less abstract. “When you’ve been there, it’s even more personal,” Bill points out. “The reason I like to take pictures in unfamiliar cultures is that it’s such a discovery for me. If you pay attention and are quick, you can capture those magical moments, those perfect moments—and pass along what it is that was there.”

Bill’s Travel Photo Tips

• Always be looking for shots. When you really look around, you’ll notice things consciously and subconsciously that tickle your imagination: shapes, lighting, leading lines, shadows, reflections, colors, people, markets, street vendors. Experiment!
• Tell a story. Use your photos to tell a story about the place and people you are visiting. Identify what is unique about their lives and create images that capture that sense of place.
• Ask permission. Before capturing street portraits, ask permission. How would you feel if someone popped up in your supermarket and repeatedly snapped your picture?

• Plan ahead. Research your destination, read about its history and search for images. That will spark your imagination and inspire a shot list. Refer to the shot list as you plan your daily adventures.
• Take lots of pictures. The only way to improve is to take lots of photos. Take multiple shots of the same scene using different exposures, angles or framing—then choose the best to edit.
• Keep it simple. Less is more. Discern the primary subject and spend a few seconds just before you press the shutter to tidy up the framing, excluding distracting elements and including important ones. Make sure the space around the primary subject is balanced.

Elevate Art Menlo Park Exhibit

Walgreens Storefront • 643 Santa Cruz Avenue
A collection of Bill Scull’s photography curated to encourage passersby to stop and learn how engaging images are created. elevateartmp.org

Broaden Your World

scull.smugmug.com

Words by Johanna Harlow

Immigrant, chef, author. For Menlo Park’s Donia Bijan, these first two identity markers weave intrinsically into the third. The Last Days of Café Leila—Donia’s novel about a woman named Noor and her return to her family’s restaurant in the beautiful but brutal city of Tehran after spending most of her adult life in the Bay Area—is flavored by Donia’s own experiences leaving her birth country on the eve of the Iranian Revolution as well as her culinary education and decade-long run heading Palo Alto restaurant L’Amie Donia.

Like your character Noor, you moved to the U.S. as a student. Can you tell me about that experience?
I came to America in 1978, on the cusp of turning 16. When you’re that young, you’re more resilient. But later, when my parents immigrated, I never stopped to ask them, “What was it like to lose your homeland?” At 16, I was self-involved and thinking, “Do I have the right jeans?” So in my writing, I’m asking the questions I wish I’d asked: “What was it like to start from nothing?” “What was it like to build a whole new life in a new place?” I will probably always write about exile and homesickness in different contexts because those questions are not resolved. I want to keep exploring them.

How was working in the restaurant industry?
Restaurant work is like war. You’re always on, you are likely to get wounded and you’re under tremendous pressure all the time. You run from fire to fire. There is very little contact with the world outside the restaurant. My husband always teases me: “Oh yeah, this song came out when you were in ‘The Cave.’” I have no idea about pop culture between 1986 to 2004 (when I closed L’Amie Donia). I was sucked into the vacuum of the restaurant world.

So what kept you coming back?
Oh, I was in love with it. The intensity. The pressure. Ultimately, you fall in love with what you’re cooking. You have this love affair with the dish. Each time you make it, it’s the first time. It’s a high because when you fall in love, you’re swept off your feet—but then you have to say goodbye. It’s like a Casablanca moment because that dish belongs to somebody else who’s paid for it, and you send it away and you’re left longing for someone else to order it. And it happens again and again and again. It’s indescribable.

You returned to France later in your career to further hone your culinary skills. How was that?
I worked for three months at different Michelin restaurants. After a few weeks, the chef would say, “All right, you’ve seen everything here. Do you want to go work for so-and-so? He’s near Provence.” Or, “He’s in Milan.” And I would get on a train with my knives and show up. At one stop, I remember the owner of a laundromat loaned me an iron for my uniforms. Until then, I’d been putting them under the mattress to smooth them out. Every night, after service, as if in prayer, I knelt by my bed and ironed my chef’s coat and trousers. Those are the memories that really stick with me because it felt like I was having a religious experience. I was a monk, and this was what I had to do to reach the next level.

In the past, you’ve compared making menus to poetry. Can you unpack those similarities?
Composing menus combined my love of writing with my love of food. The idea for a dish would come to me from one ingredient. I waited for it, and it arrived in the form of a sprig of lavender or an apple. I used the analogy of poetry because poems distill an experience. One dish can capture the essence of fall. And so I saw each dish as a little haiku, that would sort of transport you into the season. You’d be like, “Concord grapes… October… Of course!”

It reminds me of character development—the inkling of an idea and how it expands.
I never thought of it that way, but you’re right! So often someone will stop me on the street and say, “Rabbit! I always ordered that rabbit dish.” It was like they were talking about a person they looked forward to seeing every time they came in. And how each time it was a little different, but essentially the same. I closed L’Amie Donia in 2004, and people still stop to tell me how much they miss a certain dish.

How is restaurant work in contrast to writing?
I thought I was a hard worker and a very disciplined person.But writing—sitting down at a desk and being still and stringing words together—is so much harder than cooking for 200 to 300 people a night! A good day is when I can feel the characters in the room with me and we’re writing this story together. They’re guiding me and saying, “Do this. Don’t do that.” “I want to go here, not there.” And my job is to listen. A bad day is when they don’t show up and the silence is deafening.

In your book, food is linked with family as well as culture, community and memory. Why is that?
In my world, they’re inseparable. I think in many homes, the kitchen is sort of the epicenter, the heartbeat. I loved spending time with my mom in the kitchen. A lot happens there. You’re being nourished in so many other ways than just with food. The word in Farsi for stomach and heart is the same. Maybe that’s a subliminal thing in my head. They’re always connected.

How did you create the characters of Café Leila?
I had these three people—the father, the daughter and the granddaughter—as this triangle in my head for a good two or three years. I would hear the three of them knocking on my window. “We’re still here! What are you gonna do with us? We’re still interested in this project.” And I would be like, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Then I opened the door an inch and let one of them in. They were almost fully formed! To this day, I wonder where they came from.

Do you have a good support system backing you?
It was my husband [the artist Mitchell Johnson] who encouraged me to submit my writing. He has been a champion believer from day one. Each day, his parting words as he walks out the door to go to his studio are, “I can’t wait to read your book.” Every writer should be so lucky.

I know you’re working on a new novel. How have you seen your writing evolve?
I learned that a novel has the potential to feel like a home. When someone comes to your house, you don’t leave them standing on your doorstep. You invite them in for tea! Early in my writing, I wasn’t letting readers inside. You’ve got to let them see the raw emotion. It’s okay if the pillows aren’t arranged perfectly on the couch or the flowers in the vase are half-dead. A real person lives here. So open your heart and let ‘em in!

Words by Lotus Abrams

The first thing visitors tend to notice when they arrive at a new home tucked into a cul-de-sac in a 1950s neighborhood of Hillsborough is that there’s something different about the walls. Minimalist and dense like concrete yet softer and more organic in appearance, the distinctive walls are crafted from rammed earth, a method that has been employed for thousands of years (the Great Wall of China was built using this technique) and is seeing a resurgence in modern, eco-friendly construction. The home is the first rammed-earth project for San Mateo-based TRG Architecture + Interior Design, owned by architect Randy Grange and interior designer Leslie Lamarre, a husband-and-wife team who utilize many organic, natural and sustainable elements in their projects.

TRG’s client was motivated to purchase the Hillsborough property because of its proximity to the homes of some of his close friends, but the original house was inefficiently sited and would have been difficult to remodel to achieve his desired indoor-outdoor aesthetic. Instead, he opted to build his dream home—a calming antidote to busy life. TRG helped him realize his vision.

“The client came to me with some images of houses that he liked with concrete walls that are inside-outside, and also some masonry walls where the wall goes from the outside to the inside and becomes an interior finish,” recounts Randy. “I suggested the rammed earth because it provides the same effect yet is warmer, earthier and more environmentally friendly.”
Rammed-earth walls are made from soil pounded or “rammed” at very high pressure. The material is eco-friendly, as dirt is a renewable resource, while cement produces high amounts of CO2 during the manufacturing process. The high thermal mass of rammed-earth walls also effectively slows down heat transfer between the inside and the outside, keeping interior temperatures stable.

Prior to this home, there had only been one other rammed-earth project in Hillsborough, but TRG sailed through the approval process. “The design review board loved it, and the building department was so cool about it, so it wasn’t the challenge I thought it was going to be,” remarks Randy, who teamed with CBW Construction on the project. TRG also relied on an engineer and a rammed-earth specialist in Sonoma to ensure everything went as planned during construction. “The rammed-earth walls were the first thing that went up,” Randy says. “It took a couple months more than you would normally spend upfront, but then the house went together just like any other house.”

The new 5,270-square-foot, four-bedroom, four-and-a-half-bath home features 18- to 24-inch-thick walls (versus the typical 10 to 12 inches for cement), which not only make the home structurally sound, but also create a dramatic contrast to the glass window walls. The house takes full advantage of the site, too, with a staggered footprint that follows the curve of the road, and the design employs horizontal lines that complement the neighborhood’s existing ranch homes.

Adding a soothing element to the design, a series of intimate Zen gardens designed by Keith Willig Landscape Architecture are strategically placed outside the home. “When you walk through the house, you’re always in contact with one of the rammed-earth walls that are coming in from outside as well as glass, so it created space for these little Zen gardens,” Randy notes. “You really don’t walk more than 10 or 15 feet inside the house without seeing another one of the gardens.”

In addition, the home’s entrance features a raised ipe wood bridge over a Japanese rock garden punctuated by an ancient olive tree. The rest of the property and the pool are surrounded by gentle berms created from dirt excavated during the construction process and filled with native grasses and drought-tolerant plants. The home is also equipped with solar panels discreetly located out of view.

Inside, the rammed-earth walls set the tone for the interior design, and Leslie worked with the client’s own interior designer to ensure everything came together. “The home has a quiet palette so as not to take away from the predominant element of interest, which is the rammed-earth walls,” she says. Wide-plank timber flooring is used throughout, and the second-floor office captures a small view of the Bay. The gourmet kitchen features Henrybuilt cabinets, and a modern chandelier from Stickbulb hangs above the dining room table. “It’s minimalist with a flare,” summarizes Leslie.
Now solidly grounded in his new neighborhood, the client is thrilled with the result. “He had a vision about what he was looking for,” Randy affirms. “He especially loves the heaviness of the walls.”

Realize a Vision: trgarch.com

Words by Kate Daly

As a young girl, Katie Anderson remembers eyeing an aquarium in a pet store and being way more interested in the bejeweled treasure chest resting in the gravel than the colorful fish. Decades later, her own family has three dogs, some chickens, turtles and a guinea pig running around in Atherton, the same town where she grew up, but she is still drawn to jewels, as the name of her business confirms: Katie Anderson Diamonds.

“I have always loved jewelry, the design element, the sparkle element,” she says. “I come from a family of entrepreneurs and venture capitalists, so I wanted to create something of value.”

Katie chose diamonds, thinking they would appreciate and people would appreciate them. After selling about 10,000 pieces to date, she figures she has brought a lot of sparkle into people’s lives.

“I want to be your village jeweler,” she explains, and yet the texting that takes place during her design process enables her to have clients all over the world. Some customers even buy for the year: Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, birthday, anniversary and holiday gifts.

Katie started taking orders for Valentine’s Day back in November. The most popular requests were tennis bracelets, tennis necklaces, earrings and monograms in a style she describes as “timeless, clean, traditional and elegant.” A recent inquiry led to the unique ring she fashioned around a black opal she sourced in Australia.

Katie smiles when she recalls creating her very first piece: a simple diamond pendant that inspired friends and family in the community to place orders with an 18-year-old.

At the time, she was a senior at Menlo School and headed to Stanford when she won a $10,000 award from a national dyslexia association. Using the check as seed money, she walked into the jewelry mart in San Francisco and found “a wonderful man who must have been bored,” because he spent a lot of time sharing his knowledge. Today, almost 20 years later, she says, “He’s one of my buyers; we buy directly from families who have been in the diamond business for hundreds of years.”

For her metals, Katie buys directly from her “magical team of manufacturers in LA,” and only sells stones certified by the Gemological Institute of America, which numbers gems and tracks chains of custody. She sells all organic diamonds, nothing grown in a laboratory. Katie also doesn’t see the necessity of paying the high prices that flawless D diamonds command when those rated E, F and G provide “enough quality” for rings, and H diamonds with some inclusions or characteristics can work well for earrings.

Buying direct allows Katie to offer a unique business model—selling pieces at cost. “There’s no middle man,” she shares. “I don’t take an income and make no profit. We pay for labor and materials and then taxes. Everything is made in California.”

A few years ago, Katie started her Brilliant Heroes program after a retired Navy Seal asked her to design a $500 engagement ring. Having family members of her own in the Navy, she was moved to offer him more than a band with a small stone. “We’re going to get you two carats, and I’m going to cover this,” she told him. “It’s the least I can do to thank you for your service.”

That decision led to a system whereby clients who can pay a suggested 10% more than cost end up donating it to help fund the 10% discount she gives to service members, first responders, nurses and teachers.

Since Katie doesn’t advertise, most clients find her via word-of-mouth and contact her through her website, katieandersondiamonds.com. It serves as a lookbook, not a shopping site. She keeps little inventory on hand and might create a limited edition of 10 pieces; otherwise, she designs on demand.
For an engagement ring, for example, Katie will ask her client about diamond shape, cut and color preferences, metal choices, ring size, timeline and budget. She probes to find out how involved the bride wants to be. “Young people need to remember a proposal is about a marriage and not the ring,” she underscores.

The design process begins with exchanging sketches, photos and CAD (computer-aided design) drawings back and forth. The next step could be using a 3-D printer to make a mockup in wax so the bride can try on the piece to see how it looks, fits and feels. Katie takes pride in designs that “use as little metal as possible to make the stones sparkle.”
She views diamonds as dazzling gems that can be worn every day. Her own diamond wedding band features one pink, one yellow and one blue diamond to honor her three young children. She currently has no engagement ring, she admits, because she keeps upgrading and selling it.

Meanwhile, Katie has started a new venture on the side. When things quieted down in 2020 and she found herself at home in June with her venture capitalist husband and kids, the little ones asked for a bedtime story about Christmas. Katie turned it into the recently published children’s book, Holly Holiday and the Christmas Forest. And she has another one, Happy Birthday Holly Holiday, coming out this spring. Spoiler alert: it’s not about the diamond tiara Katie once designed for a 16-year-old’s birthday. That’s a whole other story.

The Art of sparkle: katieandersondiamonds.com

Words by Sheryl Nonnenberg

In 2012, Caroline Mustard’s son bought her an iPad for her birthday and suggested she use it to return to drawing. A native of Cornwall, England, Caroline holds degrees in Fine Art from the University of Brighton and had a career in art direction and scenic painting in Hollywood in the 1980s. She took a break from creative endeavors after moving to the Bay Area, but the gift of the iPad proved to be a pivotal event in her art journey.

It’s not hard to imagine how revelatory the iPad was to the former painter. Here was a device that could answer any question, play music, translate languages and map a destination. Opening an app called Paper, Caroline drew a zebra and became hooked. “I was so excited—I showed it to everyone,” she recalls. “I have always loved anything to do with computers, and soon I became obsessed with making art on my iPad and iPhone.”

Little did she know that what began as experimentation would result in a second career as a digital artist. In 2013, Caroline’s zeal for creating art using technology motivated her to co-found the Mobile Art Academy, a hub for artists using the medium. She also discovered a passion for teaching and has become well known for her classes at Palo Alto’s Pacific Art League and, since the pandemic, on Zoom. Her motto is a call to arms for anyone who has toyed with the idea of making art: “Digital is democratic—everyone can be creative.”

Sitting down with Caroline in the office of the Atherton Art Foundation, it’s easy to see why her classes are so popular. She exudes a joy and enthusiasm for art and art history that is positively contagious. As she shares tales from her artistic past, she refers to examples of her art on her phone, visually documenting the journey of how her personal style has evolved. From that first zebra to complicated layering of photography and drawing, using ever more sophisticated applications, Caroline is always learning.

What she did not foresee is how much she would love teaching. She explains that she began teaching children to use their iPads for making art at the Los Altos Christian School. From there, she launched into providing instruction for various municipal recreation programs in Menlo Park and Los Altos. She found her way to the Pacific Art League, which was initially interested but not sure if a digital art class would garner enrollment. But a major exhibition of iPad art by British artist David Hockney at the de Young Museum in 2013 soon changed that perception.

For Caroline, the exhibition was a transformative experience. “Hockney is my go-to artist,” she explains. “I have loved him since the ‘60s because he is always exploring and he loves the history of art. I agree with everything he says.” Seeing the large-scale work that Hockney had done in his native Yorkshire, Caroline recognized the potential of the digital medium—and what it would require to master it. “I saw that I needed to work hard and get my art out there,” she says.

Caroline created a website and her digital art began to attract interest. Following a show at the Pacific Art League, she participated in a group show at Art Ventures Gallery in Menlo Park and a large-scale solo show at the Jewish Community Center in Palo Alto. She is quick to explain, however, that courting gallery affiliations was never a priority for her. Sharing her passion for digital art with others is her main motivation. “Teaching is symbiotic for me: I can earn money and I love to teach,” she says. “I get inspired by teaching and I have to stay ahead of my students. It makes me work!”

Caroline’s teaching—and her conversation—is peppered with quotes from famous artists whom she admires. “All of my classes are steeped in art history,” she laughs. Discounting the old adage about how art teachers are failed artists, she cites Paul Klee and Wassily Kandinsky, both of whom were teachers. When asked if she has encountered any prejudice against digital art, she nods but then quotes Picasso: “Artists break rules.” And as to how working on her iPhone and iPad has kept her work vital and innovative, she cites another favorite artist, Wayne Thiebaud. “He said, ‘I think of myself as a beginner. Sometimes that’s the whole joy. If you could just do it, there’d be no point in doing it.’”

One thing Caroline has noticed while teaching adults is the lack of ability to draw. She attributes this to the lamentable demise of art education in schools and also the trend of not teaching basic drawing skills to art students. This is integral, she believes, in making art because “drawing is looking.” The good news, however, is that it is a skill that can be honed through practice on a ubiquitous device: the iPhone. “Digital is drawing, you are just using different tools,” Caroline says, adding that she sketches all the time, using Procreate Pocket on her iPhone. Whether on a bus, in a park or at a café, she is constantly observing and drawing. Has anyone ever noticed her attentive regard? “Never!” she exclaims. “I call it ‘stealth drawing’ because people don’t even know I am doing it.”

Perusing the iPhone work on her website carolinemustard.com, one can see a variety of subject matter, from autumn leaves to a still life of fruit to a cellist holding his instrument. These sketches, created using her finger as a tool, sometimes make their way into paintings and always are boldly and brightly colored. “Color is my passion, and I could never understand it as well without digital,” she explains. With the mobility provided by the iPhone, Caroline has the ability to record everything—and anything—around her. While living in Mountain View, she was inspired by the many bicycles she saw on the Google campus. Google Bikes is a fascinating study of color and line, capturing motion in the style of the Italian futurists. It was purchased by the interior design department of the company and now hangs in their bicycle building. “Capturing what I see, that is what my art is about—memory,” she muses.

Caroline is now working on a series about San Francisco, which began with an iPhone sketch of an empty storefront near Russian Hill. This work will entail what she refers to as “drawing fusion,” using both traditional media and digital. Clearly a proponent of the idea that art is around us, everywhere, Caroline also feels strongly that “our phones let us see things we can’t see otherwise.”

The advent of digital technology rekindled Caroline Mustard’s love for art, and by sharing her knowledge and talents with others, she finds fulfillment. “I can get people to create art who never thought they could,” she reflects with wonder.

To purchase books and find more information about online and in-person workshops, visit thejoyofdrawing.org

Words by Johanna Harlow

In a warehouse near Candlestick Point, Greek figures intermingle with medieval dragons, busts and big cats. While half-finished works await, chunks of stone and a powdering of rock dust on the floor show the layers shed by sculptor Manuel Palos’ stony creations—the archeological representation of a lifetime of work.

This afternoon, Manuel—his shirt the color of brick, his beret a shade of sandstone—considers a partially-molded woman on his worktable. “It’s not just jumping in. You’ve got to talk to them first,” Manuel explains as he holds the figure’s gaze. “My goal is to make a connection with each piece that I work on. This allows me to feel their energy and it guides me on how they want to be created.” Gently cupping her clay hand, Manuel finesses her fingers with a tiny wooden paddle. “Some days, they may not want to be touched, so I step away and work on something else. They let me know when they are ready to work together again.”

With over half a century of work under his chisel, Manuel’s handiwork can be found throughout the Peninsula, San Francisco and Mexico. He’s done it all. Bronze, marble, stone, clay. Classic, modern, art deco. Historical preservations, ornamental pieces, figure work. Commissions for doctors, lawyers, educators and politicians. And the 85-year-old shows no signs of slowing down. “Any item, any style, whatever they want—I’ll do it,” he promises.

Though Manuel welcomes all projects, he prefers figurative to decorative work. “I respect both,” he insists, but “figures are more meaningful than just a leaf. They’re more challenging.” When someone commissions the artist for a portrait, the process is personal. “First of all, I like to talk to the person and look in their eyes,” he shares. “Their smile… The way they laugh and talk… That’s the first thing I capture.” He then takes photos of his subject in different poses, both playful and serious. “That’s how you start to get the figure: the personality,” he observes.

It’s a fascination that has enthralled Manuel since childhood. “When I was a kid, my brother and I used to make little figurines in clay,” he recalls of his youth growing up in the Mexican state of Zacatecas. “We used to sell them for pennies.” This afforded the boys luxuries like candy and trips to the cinema. “We didn’t have to ask Papa for money to go to the movies!” he chuckles.

Manuel’s smile reveals a scar. Carved from lip to chin, he received it from a harrowing car accident that killed a dear friend. “I was lucky,” Manuel shakes his head. “I had a lot of work to do yet.”

And he set out to do it. In his late twenties, Manuel moved from Southern California to San Francisco to work as a moldmaker on the reconstruction of the Palace of Fine Arts. Back then, sculptors were in scarce supply in the City, the artist reflects. “We were working with people from different countries because they couldn’t find anyone here.” Many connected with the project through an ad in an international publication, flying from far-off places like France, Spain and Italy to offer their services.

Not long after joining the team, Manuel found himself elevated to assistant to the sculptor, aiding with scrollwork and colossal figures. “I learned how to work in that scale,” he notes. Surrounded by talented artists, Manuel thrived. “I learned from all of them,” he says. When they gave him advice, he listened. “They told me, ‘Manuel, you’re good at this. You should go to Italy. We are old already and we can’t teach you more.’”

To date, he’s taken more than 30 trips to perfect his craft—at workshops in Pietrasanta and Carrara and by soaking in the presence of the Masters. “That was a dream,” he reflects. “I saw the best there.” He cites Florence as his favorite Italian city, but adds that he discovered inspiration all over. “Everywhere you go, you see art!”

After recreating a fleet of 13-foot eagles to perch atop the Pacific Telephone Building (the tallest building in SF at the time), Manuel was hired to remake six larger-than-life mythological figures for the domed roof of the Legion of Honor museum—no easy task. “I was scared at the beginning, you know?” concedes Manuel. “Sometimes at night, I’d ask, ‘What am I doing? What am I doing?’ But then the next day, ‘Let’s go!’”

Over the years, Manuel’s Peninsula projects have ranged from planters for Stanford Shopping Center to hand-carved detailing and stonework for private residences—most impressively Hillsborough’s Chiltern Estate. For this luxurious castle-esque mansion, Manuel crafted interior arches and columns as well as eight chimney stacks designed to look like pillars. In Woodside, the Family Farm club commissioned Manuel to create a striking bronze stork.

Other memorable projects include additions to the famed Neiman Marcus rotunda in San Francisco and the Veterans Memorial Building in Berkeley. Manuel’s work is so prolific, in fact, that the mayor recognized him with his own San Francisco day on August 11 (Manuel’s birthday).

Another claim to fame for Manuel: the massive stone dragon fireplace he crafted for Nicholas Cage back in the ‘90s. When the shaggy-haired actor first showed up to wander the warehouse, Manuel had no idea who the man was. “I thought he was a hippie,” Manuel laughs. So when Cage requested a dragon to put above his fireplace, Manuel assumed he was kidding. “I’m gonna play his joke,” the artist remembers thinking. “I said, ‘No, I have a better idea! Why don’t I give you a big, big dragon—then you put the fireplace in the mouth!” Cage, a fan of all things Goth, enthusiastically agreed—and when Manuel received the check, he finally realized the guy was serious. The result was a fearsome 13-foot-tall creature, all claws and spikes and teeth. Manuel is currently babysitting the 4.5-ton beast while its owner moves into his new place.

Beyond his original work, Manuel also has a penchant for preservation. Frequently, he restores (or recreates) crumbling historical elements for public buildings, homes, parks and other sites. Also a collector, Manuel’s antiques range from a Victorian-era limestone griffin to a 16th-century marble nativity scene salvaged from a church in Tuscany. Manuel points out cracks in the nativity scene that he will soon seal with epoxy. “They told me that after World War II, many art pieces were broken or damaged,” he notes. “But look at the details!

His ongoing pet project involves a series of colossal Mayan molds bequeathed to him by the late Joan Patten. Back in the ‘60s, Manuel learned of this intrepid sculptress and her efforts to track down Mayan ruins in the jungles of Guatemala, preserving them with massive latex molds. At the time, she was the only person authorized by the Guatemalan government to make reproductions of these ancient works.

“She was looking for someone who had expertise in sculpting and moldmaking to assist her with the restoration of the molds,” Manuel explains. “Joan knew that I had the same vision as her in preserving these beautiful treasures so that future generations can benefit and learn from them.” These giant inscribed slabs, some over 20 feet tall, are weighty with history. “It’s a whole world up there,” Manuel describes, tilting his head at an ancient prince with a headdress of resplendent quetzal feathers.

“We want to give them a proper home,” adds Manuel’s daughter, Alejandra Palos, who manages her father’s studio and is a sculptor in her own right. Both father and daughter hope to see replicas displayed at universities and museums. “I mean, their home is here. But we want to give others the opportunity to really see them and to experience them,” Alejandra shares. “Scholars can learn from them and classes could be held about them.”

Looking to the future as well as the past, Manuel instructs the next generation of sculptors at his San Francisco and Puerto Vallarta studios. Both beginners and more advanced students are welcome. “Visualize your final creation and take the necessary steps to get it done,” he advises sculptors of all levels. “It can be frustrating at times, when it may not be going how you would like it to. That’s why it is so important to build a relationship with your creations.”

But don’t misunderstand: Manuel isn’t passing off the torch. “I’m still alive! I’ve got a long way to go,” the octogenarian asserts with a youthful grin and a determined glint in his eyes.

Set in Stone – manuelpalos.com

Words by Sophia Markoulakis

Creating a textile design brand is a gutsy undertaking, even for an interior design veteran like Menlo Park’s Sarah Boyden. After a successful 35-year career in residential and commercial design, Sarah recently embarked on a new artistic and professional endeavor as a textile designer. “There is no manual for this type of business,” she says of her new venture, a pursuit she affectionately describes as her “labor of love.”

Sarah’s enthusiasm is palpable, and she sees a touch of destiny in the switch. “I was wrapping up projects so that I could retire my business,” she recounts, “and I pulled out drawings of motifs and flowers that I had made years before while traveling to visit my son in college.” The pandemic slowdown allowed the time and space to rekindle her passion for the medium, and in October 2022, Sarah simultaneously closed Sarah Boyden Interiors and opened Sarah Boyden Home.

One of the pillars of interior design, textiles (fabrics, rugs, wallpaper, upholstery) comprise pretty much anything woven that tells a story through pattern, texture and color and creates a specific feel or emotion. Sarah credits travel with being a creative catalyst, and her knowledge of European textile history influenced her aesthetic when she was running her interior design business. “Like most designers, I was constantly on the hunt for new textiles,” she notes. “I think that many interior designers dream of having their own textile line, and I’ve thought about it for many, many years, but I’ve always been too busy.”

A Virginia native, Sarah has spent the majority of the last 30 years living on the Peninsula. Her brand embraces that duality: Southern roots and California lifestyle. “I love both coasts,” she affirms. “I do what I call the ‘bicoastal bop’ and visit home often to see family and friends. Virginia grounds me.” Sarah’s Menlo Park home is her lab, and the mix of family heirlooms, modern furniture, art and plein air paintings create a perfect backdrop for her textiles that are prominently displayed through window and pillow coverings. Her style is a mashup of Southern sensibility, elevated bohemian and classically eclectic. Talking about her love of color, Sarah quips, “I’m not a gray or beige girl.”

Sarah combines her knowledge of what customers want with her own eye for blending colors and shapes to create whimsical yet classic designs. “There are wonderful fabrics out there, but for me, it was a way to use my skill [drawing] that I learned long ago when I worked for a commercial architecture firm and to pair it with this creative expression that had been simmering on the back burner,” she says.

Sarah’s introductory lineup includes fabric and wallpaper designs ranging from bold florals like “Abloom” that are inspired by antique French Chinoiserie to linear patterns like “Chainlink” that reference great fashion houses like Hèrmes and Gucci. The bold, geometric pattern “DeeDee” is named after her mother, who was known for her needlepoint artistry. “My mom was the needlepoint queen,” Sarah says, “and this design is an homage to one of her original patterns.” Each can be ordered in a different color, and designs are created for layering with Sarah’s other patterns.

Starting with the sketch of an idea becoming the inspiration for a pattern to the transfer of that pattern onto a fabric, it’s a laborious process that can take anywhere from weeks to months. Once Sarah decides on a design, she plays with different color stories to decide how many each will have. Each pattern is grounded in a background color. Her florals, for instance, are composed of different color variations depending on the background. Sarah works with different mediums when determining these color stories.

“Sometimes, I use paint chips or fabric swatches. Sometimes, I paint the patterns in different color variations to determine which color combinations will work together and ultimately sell,” she explains. The completed designs are then digitized and printed on 100% Irish linen.

Even factoring in Sarah’s deep connections with design colleagues and showrooms, the leap hasn’t been easy. “I feel fortunate to have found a few kind, wonderful people who helped guide me and introduced me to the right people, like the woman who takes my designs and digitizes them for production,” says Sarah.

With her company still in its infancy stage, Sarah is actively pursuing designer showrooms and interior designers. “All I need is one influential designer to use a couple of my designs for exposure and to get traction,” she says. “I’m really trying to take care of the interior design community before I branch out into direct sales.” Currently, Sarah’s textiles can be ordered through an Atlanta showroom, Travis & Company.

Sarah’s next creative expedition: India, where she will learn the ancient art of block printing, a tedious task that requires hand-pressing color-dipped blocks onto fabric with focused precision. Her itinerary includes stops in Agra and Jaipur, among other historic textile cities. “Hopefully, soon after my return, I’ll have new designs to add to my inventory inspired by my most recent trip abroad,” she says. “Being in a place that is so uniquely different from where you live is very inspirational.”

weaving stories – sarahboydenhome.com 

Words by Lotus Abrams

Each new year brings the opportunity to examine the way we’re living and take a fresh approach where needed—and that extends to our surroundings at home as well. San Carlos-based interior designer Emily Kates says that clients are especially ready to head in new directions as we enter 2023. “For a while, design was very safe. It was like there was a formula for every space,” Emily notes. “But now, people are ready to push the envelope a bit more. We’re seeing an increasing use of organic shapes, asymmetry and interesting textures and finishes.”

Emily grew up in Portola Valley and started her interior design career working at a large firm in San Francisco after completing the interior architecture and design program at the Academy of Art. After working her way up to design director, however, she decided to move back to the Peninsula nine years ago to start a family, as well as her own practice—and she hasn’t looked back. Going solo has allowed Emily to take a more personal, collaborative approach to working with clients. It’s a strategy that’s clearly resonating, as she recently opened her own studio in downtown San Carlos to accommodate her flourishing practice. “When I started my business, the idea was to take on fewer projects to allow me to be fully engaged from end to end,” Emily says. “I do my own CAD drawings, and I’m there all the way through to turnkey, so I oversee all the ordering and installations.”

This hands-on approach keeps Emily at the forefront as home design trends and clients’ interests continue to evolve. A big driver of trends is social media, which she credits with democratizing the world of design by providing a platform to showcase new ideas, products and raw materials to a broad and increasingly informed audience. And in the year ahead, the influx of inspiration need not be applied solely to primary spaces like kitchens and living rooms.

“It used to feel like design was reserved only for certain people and grand areas of the home,” Emily says. “Now, people are looking at every aspect of the home as equally interesting, including spaces that were historically more utilitarian like closets, laundry rooms and mudrooms.” A pop of color, bespoke wallcoverings, distinctive lighting or unusual flooring materials might appear overwhelming in a primary living area but add interest and a welcome dose of the unexpected in smaller spaces—a practice Emily refers to as “jewel boxing.” “You now have the opportunity to be a little braver with things you might be too hesitant to try in a larger space,” Emily says.

For a recent project Emily completed in San Carlos, an arched doorway, patterned wallcoverings and an Egyptian built-in chest of drawers with a wood top transformed the primary bedroom closet, which was carved into former attic space. (Page 91) “It’s now an incredibly charming, beautiful gem of a room,” she says, adding that the arched doorway was repeated in the entryway for the primary bath. “The space would have felt so different if we’d used regular white doors instead.” In the primary bedroom, Emily covered the wall behind the bed in Holland & Sherry paperback linen: “It’s subtle, so the eye doesn’t necessarily catch it at first, but it provides this kind of warmth in the room versus using just paint, and it gives some sound attenuation because the room has a big, vaulted ceiling—it just feels so elegant.”

Another trend Emily sees emerging this year: clients are beginning to shift away from letting durability dictate their decisions about materials. “For a period of time, durability was the word of the day, but what that meant was that everyone was using man-made stone and performance fabrics, and people were rejecting a lot of beautiful natural materials because they’re not always going to look the same as they do on day one,” she says. “Now I’m seeing a return to an aesthetic where things don’t have to remain absolutely perfect, and it’s allowing the reintroduction of materials like soapstone, marble and softer woods.”

For a project in Hillsborough, Emily used a stunning slab of Grigio Perla marble for the bar countertop, a material many clients would not have chosen in recent years, given that a bar is an environment prone to exposure from acidic liquids. “It will calcify and show rings, but we loved the depth and liked that it would age like a beautiful leather,” Emily explains.

For Emily, the evolution of design trends has allowed her to expand creatively—a win for both her practice and her clients. “I’ve always loved classic design, but I like to keep things fresh in a way that’s relevant to today’s living,” she shares. “At the end of the day, seeing clients’ genuine happiness when they experience their homes and what we’ve all been working toward—that’s why I do this.”

fresh perspective – emilykatesdesign.com

Words by Sheri Baer

Call it rock ‘n’ roll kismet. The setting: a Grammys-themed school fundraiser in 2006. Karaoke is the main event, and a Menlo Park dad dressed like Tom Petty steps up to the mic. “This guy in a top hat and tails is belting out these songs and I’m like… oh my gosh!” recounts Rich Johnson, who had coincidentally shown up as Tom Petty’s Traveling Wilburys bandmate Bob Dylan. As it turns out, the standout vocalist is Rich’s Menlo Park neighbor, Jeff Bird.

For Rich, it was akin to Simon Cowell spotting the X-Factor. “Guys, guys, look what I found!” the bass guitar player raved to Rod Scherba, Allen Weiner and Roger Inman. After connecting over a shared passion for music on the sidelines of a CYSA soccer game in 2004, the group had been regularly jamming in garages. They successfully recruited Jeff (lead singer and guitar), who later looped in another neighbor, Scott Wachhorst, for keyboards and vocals. “We knew then that we had the pieces we needed to form a band,” notes Rod. “It was never for profit,” emphasizes Jeff. “It was mostly to be around friends—so fun, friends and philanthropy.”

And that’s been the ethos of The Members, Menlo Park’s now-legendary rock ‘n’ roll cover band, since the start.

Musically-inclined Menlo Park dads—that’s the common thread. Professionally, they run the gamut with titles like neurosurgeon, law professor, commercial real estate developer and biotech VC. While juggling young kids and demanding careers, they met up for chilly late-night garage practices—grateful for supportive wives. “It was frenetic, there was always something going on, right?” remembers Allen, who learned to play a drum kit in junior high. “I’d be having a stressful day, and I’d often stop and think, ‘Oh, is tonight band night?’ If it was band night, you knew you’d get to hang out with your mates, act a little juvenile in a way that you don’t get to in your day job and do something that you really love—make music.”

Since their official debut at an elementary school picnic, The Members have gone on to master a repertoire of more than 300 songs. They’ve taken the stage at local venues like Pioneer Inn, Freewheel Brewing Company, Club Fox and Menlo Park’s latest live performance space, The Guild. Always a popular draw, they’ve raised hundreds of thousands of dollars through school and community fundraising events.

As gig followed gig, the dad band watched their collective gaggle of kids progress from learning to read to leaving for college and beyond. They marked milestone birthdays and graduations together. And then, one huge, heartbreaking loss: the death of their bandmate, Roger Inman, from diabetes complications in 2020. An audio business executive, Roger not only contributed rhythm guitar, percussion and vocals, he also equipped the garage band to deliver professional-quality sound. “The reason The Members exist is because Roger Inman deemed it so,” reflects Rich. “Losing Roger was like losing a family member,” shares Scott. “We think of him every time we play.”

At a recent performance at The Guild to benefit the Ravenswood Education Foundation, blue, purple and magenta spotlights illuminate the stage. Jeff’s clear voice carries out over the crowd, “She’s got a ticket to ride, She’s got a ticket to r-i–i–ide but she don’t care…” as the rest of The Members chime in, “My baby don’t care… My baby don’t care…” to wrap up the familiar Beatles hit. “That’s an original song,” Jeff quips with an impish grin, after the applause settles. “I’m glad you like that. We’ve got more sing-alongs tonight.”

While they occasionally quibble about song selection, The Members all agree on the genre: classic and current rock ‘n’ roll. Van Morrison. Green Day. The Eagles. Elton John. The Rolling Stones.Counting Crows. Tom Petty. “We started out playing the music that we had grown up with and that we’d listened to and that we loved,” explains Allen. “We also like John Mayer, Train—more contemporary songs—because they’re a little more technical and you can play with them,” continues Jeff. “And you get a real buzz when you get it right, ‘Wow, that just felt fabulous!’”

As a cover band, The Members say they strive for a high degree of fidelity to the original, although they’ll look for ways to add subtle personal touches. “We want people to feel, ‘That’s a song I know and I like that song,’” says Allen. “Our theory is that it makes people think of times when they were partying and maybe it makes them want to dance.”

That’s certainly the case at The Guild, where the dance floor is packed—bodies swaying, arms waving—as the set list unfolds in a back-to-back sequence of crowd-pleasing favorites. “I absolutely love it when the whole band is clicking,” describes Rod, who plays lead guitar. “Allen’s laying down the beat and holding us together. Everybody is singing—Jeff, Rich and Scott have got their beautiful harmonies going—and I can lay down a tasty solo.”

That communal buzz ratchets even higher every October 31, when The Members play their signature Halloween Block Party. What began as a simple offering for the neighborhood kids evolved into an epic “everyone is welcome” event drawing hundreds of neighbors and friends. Set up in Rich’s West Menlo garage (decked out like a haunted castle), they play in costumes—the Warriors, Ted Lasso, even Boris Johnson—amid hay bales, pumpkins, kegs of beer and homemade pizzas, for five-plus rockin’ hours.

When the house directly across the street sold, “We were in the disclosure package,” smirks Rich. “They had to acknowledge that they knew there was a big block party there. When you’re in the land registry, you know you’ve made it. We’ve left our mark.”

Having become bandmates in their early 40s and 50s, The Members now tally their ages as late 50s and 60s. (Jeff’s 60th celebration included a Tahoe performance at Sugar Bowl.) “We cherish each time we’re able to play at a venue, and even the times we just practice in the garage,” sums up Scott.
How long can they keep it going? “I get a kick out of seeing people like Lyle Lovett tour or when The Stones or Springsteen play,” observes Allen. “You can play music for a really long time.”

Back on stage, to the accompaniment of hands clapping and feet stomping, The Members break into the chorus of “Drift Away,” singing, “Give me the beat, boys, and free my soul, I wanna get lost in your rock ‘n’ roll…”

Palo Alto’s Ashly Edwards Huntington frequently walks the Stanford Dish but on this particular day, the view ahead made her slow her stride. “The sky was stormy and ominous,” she describes, “and then I noticed rays of light piercing through the clouds.” After taking in the scene for a few seconds more, Ashly snapped this Perfect Shot: “To me, this represented a poignant promise of hope amidst darkness.”

Image by Ashly Edwards Huntington / @aehgallery