A Modernist Amagansett House by Julian and Barbara Neski

A 1982 house designed by the modernist duo Julian and Barbara Neski found new owners in 1994 who refurbished the rooms and brought in a collection of mid-century furniture.
Photo: Tony Lattari

In the 1950s, Barbara and Julian Neski worked for the architect Marcel Breuer, carrying out his program of austere lines and heavy forms. But when Barbara showed up pregnant with their first son, she was fired. The couple broke out on their own, and earned a reputation in the 1960s for lighter, giddier modern homes — eventually building 25 weekend retreats across the Hamptons. A 1972 house for two performers centered on a spiral staircase they could float down, like the risers of a stage set. In East Hampton, a 1964 house with a pair of steeply angled roofs displayed a severe flair that must have flustered the neighbors in nearby cottages.

In Amagansett, the birch trees around a hilly lot were the inspiration for a 1982 house built for a headhunter and his family. Rather than flatten the site, the Neskis raised the home over slender support columns the width of nearby trees. The cantilevered, L-shaped house seems to glide into the woods, like a yacht. A wide deck that wraps around the back is around 900 square feet, enough room for each of three bedrooms to have its own private balcony (the primary, on a corner, has two) and for an outdoor dining area off the kitchen, shaded by an extension of the roof.

“It really does feel like you’re within the trees,” said Myles Reilly, the broker who found the house for Kathy Formby 30 years ago and is selling it now. The house is held up by columns, allowing a car to drive underneath.
Photo: Tony Lattari

Just off the kitchen is a shaded spot for eating or lounging outdoors.
Photo: Tony Lattari

The home itself is simple, like many of the Neskis’ most well-known designs, and just 2,200 square feet. Inside, it centers on an open living area capped with a sunroof that runs from a wood-burning fireplace to a pass-through into the kitchen. But, for the most part, the design saves all of the attention for the views through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and invites visitors to enjoy their freedom with a ramp to the entrance that seems to encourage bounding up and down it. “It’s signaling to you to let your hair down,” said David Sokol, the author of Hamptons Modern. “It’s acknowledging that the weekend started, and it’s time to reconnect with a bit more of the inner child.” There’s a dash of Breuer and his cantilevers, but the home doesn’t feel “stuck in amber,” Sokol said. “In the Neskis’ work, and in this house in particular, you can see the influence of the 1920s and yet it’s something else.”

When Kathy Formby first saw the house in the 1990s, she had built a fashion career designing accessories that wouldn’t feel instantly dated. “Trendless — that was always my goal,” she said. A painter by training, she created the Ricky bag for Ralph Lauren before helping lead Chanel’s successful reinvention of an 1856 luggage line. But it might have been the minimalism of an old boss, Calvin Klein, that attuned her to the Neskis’ style. “There’s something he said that I always used in every sort of aesthetic decision,” she said. “Think about the design, strip it down to its core, then only put in what’s necessary.”

The decks that wrap the house add around 900 square feet of outdoor space.
Photo: Tony Lattari

Kathy and her ex-husband, the J.Crew executive Scott Formby, stripped out the brown upholstery, bad blinds, and brass sconces left by the last owners, which didn’t seem to match the home’s gray cedar exterior or simple lines. They bathed the exterior in a lighter shade of gray, doused the inside in white paint, and brought warmth to the bedrooms and bathrooms by using natural materials only: river-stone flooring, seagrass wall coverings. The furniture came from their collection of playful mid-century classics: swinging black leather Knoll sofas over a thick shag rug; metal basket chairs by Bertoia under pine-cone-shaped pendant lamps by Poul Henningsen. News of the stylish house reached the fashion world and, through it, the husband of a Calvin Klein designer — architecture critic Alastair Gordon, who knew the Neskis well, and wrote of them in his 2001 book, Weekend Utopia. “They weren’t ego driven, money driven. They really loved design,” he said. Which is how he felt about the Formbys. Gordon arranged a meeting between the couple and the Neskis, which he wrote about in 2000 for the New York Times. The Neskis were thrilled with what the couple had done with the place, and felt connected to its new owners — leading to invites for the Formbys to join them on trips foraging for Indian Pipe flowers and to visit their own home in Water Mill. They chatted about plans to expand with a swimming pool and an art studio (Kathy is a painter), but the Formbys couldn’t bear to go through with it. “We really didn’t want to chop down any trees,” she said.

Thirty years later, even as Kathy Formby finds herself admiring the home’s smart design — a hidden outlet, the flow between the rooms — the trees are still the centerpiece, wallpapering the house with green in summer, red in the fall, and, a few weeks ago, standing like painted lines against the winter landscape. “We had that big snowfall and everything was covered in white,” she said. “It’s hard to explain, but the house changes. It’s changing all the time.”

Visitors enter via ramp, into a foyer that divides the house between a guest suite, through this door, and access to the main, open living area.
Photo: Tony Lattari

The entry foyer, with a painting by Matthew Satz, who uses smoke to color his canvases. Kathy Formby is friends with Satz, and initially studied painting before work in illustration pulled her into a career in fashion. The door leads to an open living and dining area.
Photo: Tony Lattari

The living area at the center of the house is lit by a wall of glass and a series of skylights. The Formbys decorated with an eclectic mix of mid-century design, and Kathy later filled the space with plants she puts out on the deck in summer.
Photo: Tony Lattari

Behind the wood burning fireplace, a passage leads to the primary suite.
Photo: Tony Lattari

The driftwood chair is from California, the shag rug is from France, and the painting of palms is by a friend.
Photo: Tony Lattari

Bertoia chairs surround a Jens Risom table. The Formbys collected mid-century furniture that they stuffed inside a Greenwich Village apartment before they bought the weekend retreat.
Photo: Tony Lattari

A lounge chair by Bruno Mathsson faces the fireplace. The hall behind it shows the home’s L-shape and leads to the guest bedrooms.
Photo: Tony Lattari

Behind the dining table is a pass-through sized for a wine bottle that connects the kitchen, without giving a glimpse of its clutter.
Photo: Tony Lattari

Kathy Formby was careful in a recent renovation to replace oak cabinets with an exact match. The countertops are the original Corian. “We never went for crazy, fabulous marble backsplashes — the trend of the time. I hope this house is kind of trendless.”
Photo: Tony Lattari

Cabinetry designed by the Neskis hides a paper-towel holder, and adds warmth to the room.
Photo: Tony Lattari

Back behind the living-room fireplace, in a corner of the home that looks into uninterrupted views, the primary bedroom has two separate decks — both cut off from the decks of the rest of the house.
Photo: Tony Lattari

The primary bathroom, where the Formbys discovered outlets at the back of drawers — ideal for hiding blow-driers and electric toothbrushes. The Formbys added the stone flooring.
Photo: Tony Lattari

Off the foyer in the other direction, away from the living room, are two guest bedrooms, each with their own balcony and each walled in seagrass.
Photo: Tony Lattari

Kathy Formby has used the second guest bedroom recently as an office space as well.
Photo: Tony Lattari

A second bathroom is in the guest wing.
Photo: Tony Lattari