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Writing in his diary in January 1985, Andy Warhol described a visit to the Park Avenue South loft of Julian Schnabel—one of his primary rivals in art-world notoriety at the time: “Bryan Ferry was there. Julian has all his own art in the place and he tells you about each one, he stands there and reads into his own work. I mean, he literally stands there and…tells you what his paintings mean.”
Three decades later, the address has changed, but Schnabel’s home is still bursting with his work. And he still seems to relish the role of docent. On a sunny morning earlier this year, the artist walked a small group of reporters and photographers through his sprawling West Village lair, nicknamed the “Palazzo Chupi.” He designed the pink Italianate mansion, which sits atop an early 20th-century brick stable. It’s easy to see the 12-story palazzo as an architectural extension of the artist’s maximalist take on art, design, and life—a persona that has followed him ever since he kicked the quiet braininess of Minimalism and Conceptualism in the face with his loud, brash Neo-Expressionist paintings in the late 1970s and early ’80s. This is a man, after all, who soon became known for wearing pyjamas in public.