A Surreal Experience

As Marcel Duchamp once said, "Anything is art if the artist says it is." Even a hotel—especially one designed by a sculptor. The Duchamp, an enclave of ultramodern guest cottages and villas named for the master of Dada and surrealism, is more than just a place for weary wine tasters to rest their heads. If Ian Schrager's hip, urban, Philippe Starck–deigned chain has become the Marriott of boutique hotels, Peter and Pat Lenz's Duchamp at the northern end of Sonoma County, California, still screams uniqueness. "We knew there were plenty of people like us, who are design-minded but like to travel to towns like this," says German-born Peter Lenz. His wife, Pat—an American sculptor and the visual mind behind the hotel—puts it more succinctly: "There's no way I could live in a Laura Ashley potpourri-filled space. I'd rather see nothing than a whole lot of stuff."

The couple are no strangers to the hospitality industry. In the 1970s and '80s, they tasted success on the North Fork of Long Island, where they opened a restaurant, no longer in business, and the still operational Lenz Winery. Then they cashed in their New York chips and, Peter Lenz says, followed the sun to California. After 10 years living at a vineyard in Calistoga, watching real estate skyrocket and pondering different development possibilities, the pair moved to Healdsburg.

The town is just far enough from the ritzier Napa Valley to offer some relief from unbridled tourism. But at 65 miles from the Golden Gate Bridge, Healdsburg draws a healthy stream of San Francisco wine and antiques aficionados. And Sonoma as a whole is markedly on the rise, with visitors scrambling for a seat at celebrity chef Charlie Palmer's Dry Creek Kitchen and a room at the new connecting Hotel Healdsburg or one of the classic B&Bs in the area.

The downtown Healdsburg plot where the Duchamp now stands was once three separate pieces of property. They came with a large metal shed and three cottages, and the Lenzes immediately saw the potential for a hotel. It would be configured in multiple freestanding buildings amid greenery, a concept that reminded Pat Lenz of Europe. Gradually, she developed a plan for six new villas where every detail would promote an atmosphere of restfulness, giving harried city dwellers a bit of breathing room. The key to this, she explains, is an almost subliminal unity of line. Designing the bedroom furniture, for example, she stipulated that the headboards, desks, and daybeds all be the precisely same height. She conceived every detail, down to selecting the sleek bathroom hardware, then called in a local architect to draw the plans.

The plot's original buildings, gutted and rebuilt, are now four new cottages named for 20th-century artists who have inspired her: Miró, Man Ray, Warhol, and Picasso. (Guests can also choose from six one-room villas.) One or two carefully chosen decorative elements subtly convey the cottages' themes. Two Marilyn posters and a striking black-and-white photo of Andy preside over the Warhol cottage, where the kitchen is complete with a vintage stainless-steel bar sink the Lenzes found abandoned on the property. Evocative though not authentic, an abstract nude sculpture they uncovered at a salvage yard is mounted on the fireplace surround in the Picasso cottage.

Relaxing amid the Duchamp's contemporary Italian design coups, mid-century modernist masterpieces, and mission rarities—just a block from Healdsburg's historic town plaza—is a surreal experience in itself. Many of the sofas, occasional chairs, and lamps are from the couple's own collection. Commonality between the cottages and villas derives from minimalist, honey-hued wood beds and desks that Pat Lenz designed with a nod to sculptor Donald Judd.

The guest quarters surround a courtyard of decomposed granite dotted with adult olive trees, honoring the surrounding countryside with as little concrete as possible. A collection of 1950s fiberglass lounge chairs acquired through Trout Farm, San Francisco's premier clearinghouse of mid-century modernism, awaits restoration and placement around the lap pool and hot tub.

The result is a mellower brand of luxury lodging. "There's something about Marcel Duchamp's sense of quiet and privacy—along with his wit—that I tried to keep in mind when I was designing the hotel. I wanted people to have that experience without hitting them over the head with chic," says Pat Lenz, fresh from a pilgrimage to Paris and nearing completion on a 10-foot fiberglass visage of the artist, meant to be seen from behind to offer a view through his magical eyes.

Today, an acre of undeveloped land adjacent to the Duchamp awaits eventual expansion in the form of new cottages and possibly a restaurant. But the couple's most immediate concern is closer to home. The house where they're planning to move shares 6 acres with a recently decommissioned slaughterhouse. Over the next two years, Pat Lenz will convert the concrete building into an artist's studio and winery—30-foot ceilings, industrial hoists, and all.