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opposite: At the south end of the restaurant is the wine storage area, which can be reserved for small parties, full of racks found in Paris. this page, FROM TOP: White wood detail pops against a moody dark wall, and sconces from San Francisco add a hint of gothic vibe. Metal shelves top raised Carrara marble tables. A yellow meat slicer sits in bright contrast to the surrounding neutral palette. According to Weimann, the leaded glass panes above the eating counter are salvaged from a Sherman tank factory in New York. Many of the items in the restaurant were picked up on trips around the world and sat in storage for five years until Weimann and Maclise could find the perfect place for them. A barrel-vaulted ceiling features fir salvaged from the third floor of the Sanborn Building, built in 1901 and still standing on historic Ballard Avenue.
n 2008, Seattle friends James Weimann and Deming Maclise decided they wanted to do a project together. The self-proclaimed “interiors and architecture fanatics” had each done their own projects but decided it would be fun to team up. Given their similar aesthetics and interest in food, Weimann and Maclise decided to open the French-inspired Bastille, in Seattle’s Ballard neighborhood. And that was just the start. Five years and four restaurants later (the duo also co-own and designed Poquito’s, Von Trapp’s, and Macleod’s Scottish Pub), Weimann and Maclise opened Stoneburner: an Italianinspired restaurant named after chef Jason Stoneburner. Spacious, well lit, and layered with antique metal, vintage light fixtures, and a stunning barrel-vaulted ceiling, the restaurant is designed to be an equally perfect choice for a casual business lunch or a late-evening cocktail date. “We knew the food was going to be Italian-inspired, so we wanted to stay in that design box, but at the same time make it fit Ballard, which is a very sophisticated metropolitan area,” Weimann says. “We also wanted an old-school New York vibe.” According to Maclise, the space was difficult to work with because it was so long and narrow, but they problem-solved with a floor plan that has open eating areas, a bar, and a counter that wraps around the kitchen. The ceiling over the bar features a recessed oval made from Kingwood taken from the decommissioned Italian Embassy in Buenos Aires. Three Italian Sputnik light fixtures hang overhead, while two multibulb standing lamps (also from Italy) flank a 500-pound finial the two found on a salvage trip to the East Coast. The eating counter is topped with Carrara marble cut by metal fabricator Chris McMullen. In the main dining area, vintage schoolteacher’s chairs from New York tuck into each table. Above it all is a ceiling from an Amish school in Wisconsin. And below, custom cement tile from Nicaragua is laid in place with dark grout. Everywhere you look there’s a thoughtful detailed touch: sconces from The New York Times, walls are also from the decommissioned Italian embassy in Buenos Aires, metal gates from Brooklyn. The blend of international items is a subtle nod to the guests at Hotel Ballard, where the restaurant is housed. As Maclise says, “We wanted to create a place where, when people show up from out of town, they feel like they were walking into something special and not just another place they could find in any town.” h
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GRAY ISSUE No. twelve