At Home with Angie Hranowsky

Designed with architect Johnny Tucker and completed over eight years, the low cypress structure dissolves into its surroundings. Deep overhangs temper the Charleston sun. Broad panes of glass pull the garden inward. "Color invigorates and inspires me," Hranowsky has said. "It propels my creativity." Here, color behaves less like ornament than another architectural material, moving from painted floors to glazed tile, textiles, ceramics, and artwork.

The first room introduces Hranowsky's eye in miniature. The oversized cypress front door, inspired by Luis Barragán's Gilardi House in Mexico City, sets the tone before you're fully inside. A terracotta mermaid stands beside a vintage Ingo Maurer Uchiwa floor lamp. A pine chair sits beneath a vintage yellow fiberglass globe, while painted blue zellige floors draw you further into the house.

The interiors have come together gradually, through instinct rather than adherence to a single school or style. Antiques sit beside severe modern pieces; lacquer sharpens woven fiber; polished glass interrupts the weight of dark wood.

Built-in cypress shelves stretch floor to ceiling in the living room, holding far more books than decorative objects. Fiction sits beside architecture monographs, books on travel, fashion, ceramics, art history, and cookbooks. Some shelves are neatly ordered; others have grown two rows deep. Rocko, the family's cat, has claimed one of the lower shelves without objection.

Opposite, a generously scaled sofa upholstered in a botanical print anchors the room. Rattan, chrome, painted ceramics, woven trays, and contemporary art coexist without hierarchy. Nothing competes for attention.

The same sensibility carries into the bath. Baina towels, Frama bath essentials, and Japanese bath brushes sit alongside painted wood, handmade soaps, and sleek fixtures. Elsewhere, FOUND inlay boxes and an Ochre side table fold naturally into rooms that have never distinguished between the practical and the beautiful.

The foyer arrives first in blue zellige underfoot, a cooler contrast to the peach plaster walls. By the time you reach the kitchen, the palette has shifted to yellow, changing from buttery to almost amber as the afternoon progresses.

Handblown Il Buco Vita glasses remain on open shelves beside candlesticks and framed portraits that lean casually against the wall.

Landscape is never treated as backdrop. From nearly every room, palms press against the glass while deep overhangs and linen curtains temper the changing light. The boundary between house and garden remains deliberately soft, allowing the architecture to shift with the weather, the season, and the hour.

Angie’s studio is only a few doors from Wentworth, and she has been part of No. 162 since the beginning. Over more than two decades, she has developed a body of work that resists easy categorization to create interiors that feel unmistakably her own. Her house offers perhaps the clearest expression of that point of view.

See more from Angie Hranowsky Studio at angiehranowsky.com, and follow her latest work at @angiehranowsky.