Don Yacovella is handcrafting the kind of furniture that hasn’t emerged from a workshop around here since the iconic George Nakashima and Wharton Esherick were in their prime.
By Scott Edwards
This bench is the embodiment of Don Yacovella, the minimal treatment of the wood his humble nature, the high degree of difficulty made to look simple his next-level talent. He’s relatively new to the scene, even though making furniture’s all he wanted since his parents turned the barn behind their Chalfont home over to him in high school. (Yacovella still works there today. And his mom still lives out front. He bought the home next door to keep both close by.) But building custom stairwells and cabinetry paid the bills; furniture did not. The World Wide Web changed that.
He did the math, then refused all projects for the next year. That’s how long Yacovella gave himself to turn a profit. He was never going back, though. Today, with a backlog of orders, it’s hard to remember what that freedom felt like. But all he needs to do is glance at this very image. “That was like 15 years inside my head. I finally had the time and had finally built up the skills to be able to pull that off,” says Yacovella, who sports a bushy goatee and sideburns and a coating of sawdust from his floppy newsboy cap to his boots on the afternoon I visit his workshop.
Yacovella; (top) his “George Nakashima Bench.”
His furniture evokes the midcentury modern icons, Esherick, Maloof: clean lines, the occasional raw edge and wood that’s left to look like wood, grains, knots, cracks and all. Yacovella makes no airs about improving on their designs. In fact, he calls this bench “The George Nakashima Bench.” Yacovella doesn’t usually get attached to his furniture, but this bench was different. It marked his arrival. “As bad as I needed the money, I would not give that bench to a person that I did not like,” he says. “It had to go to a good home.” It went to a woman in Venice Beach, California. They had several lengthy phone conversations before he finally sold it to her.
Don Yacovella Lounge Chair | $850 | etsy.com/shop/donyacovella
The bench is one-of-a-kind, for now at least. However, the lounge chair, which has been favorited by more than 3,700 people on Etsy, is still very much in rotation. It’s also the rare piece that Yacovella, a Clover Market regular, allows himself a bit of the credit. He’s tweaked the midcentury modern staple, giving the arm a new arch and taking care to match the grains at the joints, finally making it as comfortable as it is sexy. Yet, like its creator, still understated.
Don Yacovella Lounge Chair | $850 | etsy.com/shop/donyacovella
With no experience whatsoever, Narberth’s Darren Keith dove into creating his own comedy series. Somehow, he found his way back to the surface.
By Scott Edwards
It’s hard to overstate how little Darren Keith knew about making a TV show. If you spent a few seconds wondering how to go about it yourself—I’ll wait—whatever you came up with is probably more than he did initially.
“I had to Google, ‘How do you format a script?’ ” says Keith, who grew up in Northeast Philly and now lives in Narberth.
But what he did know was the irony of human nature. The lead singer, for example, who’s in it for the art, but who earmuffs his pride a few times a week and sings “Happy Birthday” so that he can collect a paycheck. Or, the seasoned concertgoer who shouts out a request for another band’s song. Free! Bird!
Keith’s spent the last 25 years cataloguing such experiences from a front row seat. He’s been a professional drummer—mostly freelance work—since he was 15, living in all the musical hotbeds—New York, LA, Austin, Branson—and witnessing and absorbing (two very distinct acts) the onslaught of shaming that goes hand in hand with a life on stage and, really, a life, period. He’s lasted this long because of his wit. Even before he sat behind his first snare, Keith was keenly aware of his ability to make those in his circle crack up. As he realized how precious an asset that is, the more he daydreamed about doing something with it. Like make a living from it. He was watching “Flight of the Conchords” and “Curb Your Enthusiasm” with the rest of us. He could do that, he thought.
Call it a midlife crisis. Keith decided the time was now. He was going to create his own comedy series. Without a sentence of writing experience. Zero concept of acting, performing aside. And no grasp whatsoever of how to produce a show. Needless to say, the three-and-a-half years since have been “a crazy rollercoaster ride.” It took him a year to finish the 10-minute pilot episode alone. But he did it. And when “DK the Gig” premiered on YouTube last Saturday (you can watch it here), everything before and after faded away. For now, at least. Keith’s planning to launch a crowd-funding campaign in March on Indiegogo so that he can film the other seven episodes he’s written. (He’s covered all of the costs to this point himself.) From there, he wants to start shopping the show around.
I know what you’re thinking. This is not an elaborate YouTube skit. Cynic that I am, I braced myself when I clicked on the link. I’m not sure what even got me that far. Active procrastination probably. But, then, I was laughing out loud. DK, the lead, played by Keith, is pure superego, but in the deadpan mold of Louie CK. His tiny world’s constantly conspiring against him. Wary as he is, he still has the wherewithal to ask, “You want honey or lemon with that?
Before you jump into your New Year’s resolution, know where you stand.
By Todd Soura
Another January is upon us. Which means it must be time for a new you, too. Isn’t that the way it works? A fresh start, a hellish holiday hangover, regardless of your motivation, resetting (or beginning) a healthy lifestyle is never a bad thing. But taking on too much too soon all but guarantees that you’ll be right back here this time next year.
Neither of us wants to see that happen. So, before you do a single crunch, figure out exactly how fit you are. I’ve developed the following baseline test to gauge all the essentials: body fat, strength, balance and flexibility. By the time you finish, you’ll know how much work you have in front of you, and you’ll be able to scale your workouts accordingly.
Remember, the key to sustainability is consistency. A year from now, you can look back on your first workout and laugh because it means you stuck with it and improved steadily. Until then, one set at a time, one rep at a time.
Body fat
I don’t like the body mass index, a standard measure of body fat based upon height and weight, because it fails to take into account muscle. A hip-to-waist ratio, by contrast, is not only easier to calculate, it’s more accurate.
Find a tape measure and wrap it around your waist (at your navel). Then do the same for your hips. Divide your waist measurement by your hip measurement. Anything below .9 in men and .8 in women is an indication of relatively good health.
Lay on your back with your knees bent and your feet flat on the floor. Lean forward like you would with a sit-up—no hands—and drop your right leg, tuck it beneath the left. Then plant your left foot and rise to a standing position—again, no hands.
If you’re under 70, you should be able to do this fairly easily. If you can, it means your overall strength and body control are good and your brain’s saying all the right things to your muscles.
Assume the position of an old-school sit-up—flat on your back, hands tucked behind your head—only you’re going to straighten your legs rather than bend them. Slowly perform a sit-up. When you’re completely upright, you should look more like half a “C” than an “L.”
If you can do 10 of these, your hip-flexor, abdominal and lower-back strength is above average. If you can do 20, you’re ahead of most.
Upper body strength
The push-up is one of the oldest exercises there is, and it’s still the truest test of upper body strength. Your hands should be just outside your shoulders, your body, stiff and straight. Lower your chest until it grazes the floor, then push straight back up to the starting position. Twenty is good for guys; 40 is excellent. For women, 10 is promising, 20 is top-notch.
Flexibility
Sit on the floor with straight legs. Lean forward and touch your toes. The taller you are, the harder this is going to be. It should be a bit easier for women. They tend to be more flexible than guys. Either way, if you can touch them, good. If you can grab them, even better.
The resurgence of the American muscle car is a bit deceiving. Yeah, they’re back and stronger than ever. But they’ve also matured into sophisticated adults.
By George Polgar
That low roar you hear behind you at most intersections these days, that’s the second coming of the American muscle car. The news of Detroit’s demise has, apparently, been greatly exaggerated.
Chevrolet Corvette Z06
The Chevrolet Corvette is the best value in the pack at $55,400. Between its angular body, the racer-like vents and futuristic headlights, the Corvette seems to borrow more from the sleek Italian supercars than its chunky American brethren. And with its new super-lightweight aluminum architecture, the Z51 handling package and the life-affirming 455-horespower V8 (bumped up five horses with the auto-manual transmission), it could hold its own with either club.
Unless you make your income from illegal street racing, the 650-horsepower Z06 edition ($83,400) is far more car than you’ll ever need. But need and want are two very different worlds, so test-drive the Z06, at least. Otherwise, it’ll haunt you.
Chevy Camaro SS Performance
Chevy’s all in on this retro movement. It gave the Camaro a sleek makeover, which, coincidence or not, now looks like a flexed bicep. Practically speaking, the car’s shorter, lengthwise and height-wise, and narrower, which results in a significant weight reduction. That matters because none of it came off the engine. The SS Performance model (Camaro’s fully-loaded package) offers 455 horsepower in the low $40,000 range.
Ford Mustang GT
The Ford Mustang was redesigned, too, in honor of its 50th anniversary last year. In another nod to its rich heritage, Ford reintroduced hood vent-integrated turn signals in the 2016 GT. Under that hood sits a 5.0 liter 435-horsepower V8. Couple that with a price just north of $30,000 and you have the top-selling muscle coupe.
Dodge Charger SRT
Demand for the 707-horsepower Hellcat edition Charger and Challenger ($63,000) was so instantaneous and overwhelming that Fiat Chrysler Automotive was forced to put a halt on orders so that it could catch up. (Keep that 707 horsepower in mind the next time you contemplate outrunning a cop.) The standard models are less than half as strong (305 horsepower), but they’re also less than half the price. And, last we heard, they’re in stock.
Dodge Viper SRT
The Dodge Viper ACR doesn’t have the legacy to tread on that the aforementioned do, but we’d be remiss if we ignored its 8.4-liter, 645-horsepower V10. The sticker shock ($118,795, tricked out) narrows the field, and the divisive figure trims its potential suitors even further. But if an adrenaline rush is what you’re after, the Viper was made for you.
Aside from the names and their aggressive ambitions, none of these cars share much in common with their grandfathers. They are refined verging on sophisticated. But, then, with muscle cars, it was never so much about what they are as what they do, and these still very much do that.
George Polgar is a Philly-based auto journalist and an on-air commentator for CBS TV and KYW News Radio.
Photo credits: Camaro and Corvette, courtesy Chevrolet; Charger and Viper, courtesy Fiat Chrysler Automobiles; Mustang, courtesy Ford.
[divider]What exactly does “winterizing” my car mean?[/divider]
First, have a friend stand outside your car while you test all the lights and signals. While you’re in there, check the heater and the defroster, too. Then, make sure your tire pressure is right and the tread is sufficient. If you want to go beyond the easy-to-reach stuff, ask a mechanic to look it over.
A photo exhibit explores the streets of the Caribbean’s new it spot.
Max Hansen Carversville Grocery, in Carversville, is hosting “Cuba From a Different Angle,” a photography exhibit by Jonathan M. Hansen, the younger brother of Max Hansen, the chef and owner of the gourmet grocery shop. The exhibit features images captured by Jonathan M. Hansen during his trips to Cuba over the last decade. A senior lecturer and faculty associate at Harvard, Hansen is writing a biography on the young Fidel Castro, his third book. He’s a self-taught photographer. Last spring, he exhibited at the Belmont Gallery of Art, in Belmont, Massachusetts, his first solo show. “What I do have, some people say, is a good eye,” Hansen says. “In Havana, I also have a lot of time, as Cuban archives typically close at 4 p.m. That gives me several hours with nothing to do before the evenings but explore and walk many different neighborhoods, old and new, restored and crumbling, commercial and residential.” The exhibit will run through the end of the month. An artist’s reception will be held January 15 at 6:30 p.m. Max Hansen will be preparing Cuban-inspired snacks and drinks. He also plans on serving a variety of Cuban cuisine at the grocery throughout the month.
Outside and in, the Main Line’s newest apartment building retains much of its nearly-100-year-old-character. But that doesn’t mean it’s without cutting-edge amenities.
By James Boyle
A selection of apartments are outfitted with air purification systems and circadian mood lighting. Think of it like living at a spa.
Under the scrutinizing eye of a community that takes its history and its curb appeal very seriously, a Bala Cynwyd developer spent two years and more than $35 million converting the former Eastern Baptist Seminary in Wynnewood into The Palmer, a high-end apartment building. And that only counts the actual construction period.
“It took three years to get the approvals from Lower Merion,” says Kevin Michals, a principal with Cross Properties, said developer. “People are always very cautious about new developments. The fact that we renovated an already existing building, rather than build a complete new development, made it a little easier.”
The 120,000-square foot, four-story building, designed by Philadelphia architect Horace Trumbauer and built in 1919 as a resort, has been listed on federal, state and local historical registers. The designation allows Cross to collect tax credits from the government, but it also severely limits the extent of any physical changes.
So the main lobby’s marble floor stayed. As did the rotunda’s wood floors and French doors. The arches, crown molding and balconies throughout are also original. “We have 60 different fireplaces in the homes, but they are more decorative than functional,” Michals says.
But The Palmer, the Main Line’s first new apartment building in more than 50 years, is not without its modern creature comforts. Cross partnered with Delos, a firm that specializes in developing sustainable- and wellness-minded spaces, to create several such apartments. They’re tricked out with high-end air purification systems (complete with aromatherapy), blackout shades, circadian mood lighting and vitamin C-infusing showerheads. “Water contains small amounts of chlorine,” Michals says. “The vitamin C counteracts the chlorine effects.”
There’s also a saltwater pool and a gourmet kitchen that’s available to residents for large gatherings, both of which are intended to invoke the halcyon vibe from the property’s original iteration, Green Hill Farms Hotel, retreat for Philly’s upper crust.
Photo credit: Courtesy The Palmer / Elizabeth Baxter
A meticulous two-year renovation transformed what Addison Wolfe Real Estate partner/realtor Art Mazzei describes as a “stately stone farmhouse” into a “spectacular English country manor.” No stone was left unturned. Literally. The parking square and walkways were dug up and laid anew with a skinny brick that was imported from Europe. The pool, likewise, was ripped out and replaced with a new heated one, complete with a spa and a waterfall, all of which sits atop a perch with an unspoiled view of the creek that runs throughout the nearly 25-acre Upper Bucks County estate.
The renovation doubled Valley Run Farm’s size, which now reaches just short of 4,000 square feet, without trouncing on its 165-year-old history. A “Game of Thrones”-size fireplace continues to command the great room, which now floods with sunlight thanks to opposing glass walls. Wide-plank French oak floors run throughout much of the home, as do exposed beams.
A massive skylight practically turns the posh kitchen into a solarium. All the better to appreciate a slew of amenities that would leave a Top Chef salivating, starting with Viking and Gagganeau appliances and custom-crafted cabinetry by the revered English company Smallbone of Devizes.
After a lengthy courting, it’s an enviable marriage of old-world character and cutting-edge creature comforts. —Scott Edwards
A guide to making room for the Christmas toys. (Theirs and yours.)
By Laurie Palau
If we’re not addicted to possessing the latest, most-hyped [insert the toy, device, home good or article of clothing here], then why do Black Friday sales now start in October? Let’s not pretend that Christmas isn’t a convenient excuse to lighten up in our daily struggle with restraint. As long as we give as good as we get, it’s not being greedy anyway.
But this isn’t about accumulating stuff. We’re not hoarders. Upgrading, by definition, means replacing. So, let’s launch a new Christmas tradition here and now. Once the tsunami of wrapping paper that is Christmas morning recedes, purge your household of all the unwanted things. With the excitement of getting new things (and the space and attention they’ll command), everyone, including the kids (especially the kids), should be willing to make a more honest evaluation of what’s important to them. (Hint: if there’s dust on it, it’s not. If it’s obsolete, it’s not.)
In fact, you may find that you and your family get a little (a lot) carried away. This, however, is a conscientious purge, not a scorched-earth purge. The goal is to keep as much as you can out of a landfill. Create four piles: Donations, Consignments, Recycling and, of course, Garbage. Think of the Garbage pile as a last resort. Here’s a brief guide to help you divvy up the rest.
In the home that Karen Vandeven and Steve Williams built from scratch, every feature was considered and reconsidered until it became a bespoke fit for their deftly curated lifestyle.
By Scott Edwards • Photography by William Heuberger
The living room houses most of Williams’ antique bike collection, along with a few more signs.
Karen Vandeven and Steve Williams’ three-bedroom home sits on a subdivided 120-acre farm in a densely wooded corner of Tinicum, about a 20-minute drive north of New Hope.
“We like it out here,” Williams says. “Although, when we first drove up here, we thought we were a little bit out [there]. We thought we were in Canada, we drove up so far.”
“Our friends, too. They would never come and visit,”Vandeven says.“And now, things have come so close. Doylestown is at our backdoor.”
They bought their five-acre plot in 1998. Back then, a band of vultures hanging out around the corner didn’t even flinch at the sight of them, probably because they knew they had the numbers. Even now, this nook looks relatively unfazed by time. The property’s original stone farmhouse sits just up the hill, within sight of the couple’s home. The corrugated metal cladding that wraps around the second floor of their home is meant to mimic the exterior of the farm’s two-story chicken coop and, in turn, convey a sense of belonging.
But Vandeven and Williams’ home shares little else in common with the remnants of the farm, or, really, any of their neighbors’ homes. As Williams tells it, an older woman in a Mercedes pulled into the driveway mid-construction, compelled to inform the contractor, Richard B. Reshetar (who’s based in the next town over, Point Pleasant), that the area wasn’t zoned for a factory. It’s a home, Reshetar told her. The woman, dumbfounded, said, “Who would want to live in something like that?”
Williams’ home office.
Williams, a graphic designer, had been sketching their dream home for years. Architect John Hayden caught his first glimpse of his drawings when he wandered into Williams’ former office in The Stocking Works, in Newtown, a retrofitted office complex that Hayden himself designed. When they finally found this land, after a year of looking, Williams called Hayden and asked him to design their house. A narrow ledge about midway down a 50-foot slope meant that the layout would have to be rectangular, not square, as Williams wanted. But that was the only major blow to his modern vision.
View from the top of the three-story “tower.”
The 3,000 square foot-home was built over 11 months and completed in June 2001, nearly every detail custom-designed. (A 1,200 square foot, three-story addition that the couple refers to as “the tower” for its obvious resemblance was constructed in 2008.) So much of the design, both inside and out, was influenced by their first home together, an apartment that wasn’t really an apartment in The Laceworks building, a retrofitted 18th century-mill in Lambertville, New Jersey. It was a wide-open, industrial-type space—1,500 square feet, no walls, a 15 foot-ceiling—that Williams talked the owner into letting him renovate.
“It got really hot up there in the summertime, really cold in the wintertime. The walls were just brick,” he says.
Williams installed a kitchen and a bathroom and painstakingly restored the hardwood floors. He lived there for eight years, the last three with Vandeven.
The loft-like master bedroom.
From the overall aesthetic to the practical features, this home is a reimagining of that time—improved upon with maturity. Where there were tall windows, there’s now a pair of one-story glass walls. The core of the home, its literal center, is a commanding steel stairwell. The floors throughout are a grainy No. 3 maple, the same as the floor that Williams spent six weekends scraping and sanding. The walls are few and the ceilings require a 90-degree head-tilt to appreciate. And those ceilings are wood, just like the one at The Laceworks loft. Both were done that way as a matter of function, foremost. Vandeven and Williams are cultivating an extensive vintage trade sign collection, most of which are rather huge and needed to be hanged from the ceiling. A 16-foot, wooden ferguson’s fast side market sign, the first Williams bought (he was 17, and it cost him $5), spans nearly the entire far wall of the kitchen. And that’s not even the largest one in the room.
The second-floor study in the “tower”
Nor are the signs the extent of their collections. Williams has also amassed a museum-quality stockpile of antique bikes. The living room is lined with several, including an ordinary (giant front wheel, tiny rear wheel), the oldest of which date back to the late 19th century. His favorite, a blue and silver 1937 Monarch Silver King, sits around the corner at the base of the stairwell.
Perfume and lotion bottles from several eras ago, the objects of Vandeven’s obsession, and rare, 100-year-old-plus lithographed tins are neatly organized on what look like glass shelves in the mold of a tool chest. There’s also Williams’ library, which is housed on the second floor of the tower. (Typography is the underlying bond of most of his various compilations.)
Both were scavengers before they met, but they function better as a couple. Williams can be impulsive, but he’s learned to abide by Vandeven’s code of conduct, which is, namely, don’t sprint across a flea market after the Next Great Find. Which he still sometimes does anyway.
In any other home, if the main entrance opens to the kitchen, it’s considered a design flaw. Here, it’s completely intentional. The kitchen is where you begin to understand the full effect of all that spaciousness. It’s not just carving out ample room for the signs. When people have room to breathe, they’re more inclined to get comfortable. This space could feel effortlessly intimate with five people hanging out in it or 50. Dinner parties here, it’s easy to imagine, would feel something like eating at a small BYO with an open kitchen.
The chef Max Hansen prepares dinner in Williams and Vendeven’s kitchen.
Vandeven and Williams are avid cooks, and the kitchen follows their ambitious needs as much as their aesthetic. The chef Max Hansen, who lives and operates his eponymous gourmet grocery in nearby Carversville, is a close friend. According to Williams, he considers their kitchen one of his favorites to cook in. The Viking Professional Series range can’t hurt.
The home’s main entrance and sun deck sit atop the garage.
Williams designed the sculptural aluminum pot rack which hangs over the center of an island that spans almost the full length of the large room. Beneath its counter hides the kitchen’s most impressive feature. A stainless steel dining table extends from one end of the island. At full-length, it seats 16. It’s the brainchild of a couple who spent many hours walking through the rooms of their dream house long before a blueprint ever materialized.
Kristina George handbags are bold by design. But they’re also game for the heavy lifting.
Krassy Georgieva, left, and Kamola Taflan.
All geometric designs and assertive details, nothing about Kristina George, a collection of haute handbags that debuted in 2014, is soft. Save for the calfskin leather they’re made from, which is really, really soft. Krasimira (“Krassy” to her friends) Georgieva and Kamola Taflan, best friends since college, devoted two entire years to honing their designs, which are inspired by the architecture they’ve adored around the world, and tracking down the artisans to bring them to fruition. The crystal seen here on the Antoinette Clutch (above), a bag that made the awards-show rounds last winter with Patricia Arquette, it’s hand-cut. The bags themselves are stitched together by hand, too, at a family-owned atelier in Europe. Statements that they are, these are not glorified accessories. Not just glorified accessories. These bags, of course, are meant to serve a purpose, an obvious qualification that wasn’t lost on Georgieva, who lives in Wayne, and Taflan, both of whom spent the last decade working in finance, not ensconced in high fashion’s elitist circles. In turn, they’re loaded with smart features, like the detachable chain on that clutch and the studs that protect the bottom of the Andromeda Tote (also pictured, right). After all, a handbags make no impression shelved in your closet, which is what it’d be if it was just one more pretty thing to lug around. Kristina George bags can do the heavy lifting, too. —Christina Scordia
