The House That Made Chromeo’s Dave Macklovitch Move Cross-Country

Dave Macklovitch, half of the electro-funk band Chromeo, wasn't shopping for a house when he first laid eyes on what’s now his analog midcentury Los Angeles retreat. The Montreal-born West Village denizen wasn’t in the market; he’d just wrapped a tour. But, for whatever reason, as it happened, he wound up taking the suggestion of a friend who thought he’d enjoy seeing her mom’s Laurel Canyon house. “I was like, ‘Why not?’ I felt voyeuristic,” he explains. One look was all it took for Macklovitch—whose stage name is Dave 1—to fall completely in love with the home available for rent. “I was instantly head over heels for it, and I tried to convince my friend’s mom to sell it to me.”

But money was not really what she was after. Above all else, “She wanted to make sure I understood the aesthetic and architectural value of the house,” says the musician, 40, of the two-bedroom 1954 home designed by Dutch architect John Sjoberg (the architect originally designed the residence for himself). Macklovitch knew it was special because the midcentury signatures—wraparound windows, low ceilings, an indoor-outdoor feel—intermingle with powerful Brutalist accents, a style he’s fond of thanks to his native Montreal. “So I actually laid out all the furniture I would bring to the house, and the look and feel I would give the place, and then she was like, ‘Alright, you can have it,’” he says.

The living room opens directly to the pool, which was added later. “You literally walk out of the living room into the pool, so I thought that was really interesting,” says Macklovitch, who loves the view outward and the way the sun shines through the ceiling and creates a linear shadow effect.
“The office has wraparound windows, so there’s light coming in from both sides, and I have a bunch of books from my days when I was an academic, and they keep me company," says Macklovitch.
“The office has wraparound windows, so there’s light coming in from both sides, and I have a bunch of books from my days when I was an academic, and they keep me company," says Macklovitch.
Photo by Ye Rin Mok

Test aced, the design and art collector—“I don’t have warehouses of it, but I’m an aficionado”—simply moved everything in, since he already owned most of the furnishings. It’s a hobby sparked in Brazil in 2010 when a friend introduced him to Oscar Niemeyer and Sergio Rodriguez. “I fell in love with the sinuous, curvy, very sexy Brazilian design from the ‘50s and ‘60s,” he says, and that led to Italian and Danish greats. “When you’re on tour, finish a show, and go back to the hotel, you have two hours to just go online and browse, so that’s the kind of stuff I started learning about,” says Macklovitch.

The house essentially designed itself. “That’s why I wanted it, because I knew it was going to work,” he says. Macklovitch, who before Chromeo exploded, was an academic working toward his PhD in French literature at Columbia University (he has one and a half chapters left to go on his dissertation). “And it did.” He bought only a couple of credenzas and bits. It was kismet.

Because the colors in the house are dark, Macklovitch felt teak Scandinavian furniture would “clash weirdly” against the “virility of the house, the aggressiveness of the concrete and the gray walls.” Occasional chairs and a table by Poul Kjaerholm, a favorite Danish designer, felt like a no-brainer, as was a Hans Wegner leather and metal sofa. For accents he went “'60s space-age” with a spherical Ricardo Fasanello chair he imported from Brazil and a Joe Colombo Elda chair that’s perfectly futuristic ‘60s Italian. “I thought that would be a nice juxtaposition,” says Macklovitch, who decorated his parents’ and brother’s houses as well, using much of his own Brazilian midcentury collection.

Inside Dave Macklovitch's Carefully Considered Midcentury Modern Home

Macklovitch spends a lot of time outside, so lighting the outdoor space was important to him. The dining table is outside and was left by the previous owner, like the rest of the furniture around it.
Macklovitch spends a lot of time outside, so lighting the outdoor space was important to him. The dining table is outside and was left by the previous owner, like the rest of the furniture around it.
Photo by Ye Rin Mok
“The bedroom I just wanted to keep mostly white, that relaxes me, and it definitely is a softer, more glowy contrast to the stark, very masculine Brutalist accents of the living room,” says Macklovitch, whose personal space is incredibly minimal. The Joe Colombo Elda chair was one of the first nice vintage furniture pieces he could afford; it was a gift to himself six years ago. “I come from a fairly modest background where everything was sort of utilitarian—I don’t take any of this for granted. It’s the result of hard work and also discovering a new passion and learning about it as I go along,” he says.
“When you walk in up the steps there’s a big concrete ramp with plants in it, which reminded me of the Barbican in London,” says Macklovitch. “The kind of juxtaposition between slabs of concrete and plants, wildlife. I had never seen that in Los Angeles, or at least not much of it. When you do see a lot of concrete, like in some John Lautner houses, it’s almost more of a ‘70s futuristic thing, and this is really a ‘50s midcentury house but it’s got all these concrete accents.”
The all-white master bathroom (one of three total baths) was built after the fact over a terrace, so the shower opens up to what’s left of it, allowing him to shower half indoors, half outdoors. “That’s fun if you’re a nudist,” laughs Macklovitch.
The all-white master bathroom (one of three total baths) was built after the fact over a terrace, so the shower opens up to what’s left of it, allowing him to shower half indoors, half outdoors. “That’s fun if you’re a nudist,” laughs Macklovitch.
Photo by Ye Rin Mok
When it came to furnishing his new home, Macklovitch’s “idea was basically to stray away from the textbook teak Danish furniture," he says. "I didn’t think it would work for the kind of virility of the house, the aggressiveness of the concrete and the gray walls.”
When it came to furnishing his new home, Macklovitch’s “idea was basically to stray away from the textbook teak Danish furniture," he says. "I didn’t think it would work for the kind of virility of the house, the aggressiveness of the concrete and the gray walls.”
Photo by Ye Rin Mok
Macklovitch loves that the home is surrounded by trees—bringing the green of the outdoors inside. Small splashes of color in the form of a pair of Ellsworth Kelly works provide additional color in the otherwise neutral living room.
Macklovitch loves that the home is surrounded by trees—bringing the green of the outdoors inside. Small splashes of color in the form of a pair of Ellsworth Kelly works provide additional color in the otherwise neutral living room.
Photo by Ye Rin Mok
Of the Ricardo Fasanello chair in the living room, he says, “I dreamt about it and found one good example in Brazil, and it took six months to get it to North America.”
Of the Ricardo Fasanello chair in the living room, he says, “I dreamt about it and found one good example in Brazil, and it took six months to get it to North America.”
Photo by Ye Rin Mok
Macklovitch’s favorite space is the living room, which flows into the outdoor pool and boasts views of the canyon and gardens. “It’s really special,” he says of the space, which also features a koi pond. The musician tends to shun flashy AV systems and likes keeping it simple with only his turntable, collection of vinyl records, and ‘80s Bang & Olufsen stereo in the living room for music. “I don’t need an iPad to control my house, like, I’m good,” he says.
The stone-floored hallway is riddled with books, which the academic-turned-musician collects in a major way, glass sculptures, and vibrant Josef Albers squares. In one of the closets in the house, after moving in, Macklovitch found photocopies of the Los Angeles Times Magazine from August 1955, and the cover was his house, with an article including the floor plans and photos by Julius Shulman.

“I like analog things and they keep me company,” says Macklovitch, who has a turntable, vinyl records, and vintage stereo in lieu of surround sound or a high-tech audiovisual system controlling all his screens, lights, and AC. “Those things are a nightmare to me, I literally just wanted light switches and my turntable and vintage Bang & Olufsen stereo from the ‘80s.” His “million art, French literature, and reference books” keep him company, too, as does a modest, “miniature” collection of American art—Richard Serra, Ellsworth Kelly, Josef Albers. "They all represent to me phases in my apprenticeship in my learning process. When I became fascinated with Josef Albers, I had to read all his books on color theory and learn about the courses he taught at Yale and Black Mountain College, and [go to his] show at the Guggenheim,” says Macklovitch. “They become your friends. Same thing with the authors I was studying, and the Brazilian architects and furniture designers I’m obsessed with.”

Despite the home seeming like an ideal hosting hub, Macklovitch and his girlfriend don’t entertain here: “Maybe I’m too paranoid, or it just feels like a sanctuary, like a safe haven in a weird way,” he says, instead finding inspiration, companionship, and safety in his rarefied collections. “I like coming here to unplug and feel removed from everything else.”