Mark Ronson's 1930s Hideaway Is the Definition of Hollywood Glam

Ariel Foxman

“I must have looked at 20 places that day,” says Mark Ronson—the music world’s modern-day Merlin, not to mention 2019’s highest-paid musician-producer—of his search for his first legitimate Los Angeles crash pad. It was the winter of 2016, post the release of the money-printing megahit "Uptown Funk" but long before anyone had heard the awards-sweeping power-ballad "Shallow" that he would cowrite with Lady Gaga. “I had been spending so much time in L.A. working, going back and forth between London and L.A., it was just time to bite the bullet.”

“Of course, the one house that was far and away the nicest was the one I saw in the beginning of the day,” recalls Ronson. “I couldn’t get it out of my head. It was a little bigger and a little more than what I had planned—but isn’t that always the case?” Yes, especially when the place in question is a spacious and secluded Spanish Revival four-bedroom, five-bathroom 1930s hideaway that comes with a bonus two-story guesthouse, Edenic gardens, and a pool area that is the definition of Hollywood glam.

Ronson was particularly enthralled by the property’s lush landscaping, layers of greenery that envelop the home. He looks out on a portion of his greener pastures from his bed. “I’m not a gardener, no,” says Ronson. “This is pretty much a three-man, twice-a-week job anyway.” He found the bright and patterned pillows in an Italian design catalog, opting to use contrasting patterns to create a bit of an installation out of his bed. On the nightstand sits a framed photo of Ronson, around age 10, playing guitar with his stepfather, Mick Jones of legendary '70s rock band Foreigner.

“The place was already so amazing,” says Ronson, who was excited enough to take a pause and soak up the bright, light, and airy spaces—a sharp contrast to his New York and London homes. “At first, I didn’t even think about decorating because the place itself had so much wow factor.” Eventually, a piece of art would go up here and a piece of furniture would make its way over there, and Ronson soon realized it was time to make this place “feel like my own.”

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“When I am working on music"—Ronson has produced hit records with Adele, Amy Winehouse, Bruno Mars, Miley Cyrus, SZA, and scads more—"I can describe exactly what I want out of a sound, because I can be like, ‘Can you take the bass down here or whatever, and we’ll put some compression on the drums,’” explains the impresario. “But when it came to design, for me it’s just easiest for me to show a picture to someone and be like, I like that!” Ronson soon curated his own mini library of vintage design books: David Hicks, Horst, Tony Duquette—even something called Styles of Living: The Best of Casa Vogue. He also began to scour design sites and Instagram accounts (@idea.ltd is a favorite) in between endless professional projects.

There is a private two-story guesthouse on the grounds. “Anyone who stays here becomes quite smitten with it,” says Ronson. “I mean, the guesthouse here is probably bigger than any of my first six apartments in New York.” The downstairs features an open living area, a kitchen, and a sitting nook. A spiral staircase leads you up to a single bedroom. The swimming pool is right on its front lawn. “I would actually like to entertain by the pool more,” he says. “But I’ve still got this New York, London streak, where it feels like sitting outside by a pool is something you do only on vacation. Even on a day off, it’s a bit anti my nature to just sit at the pool. It is lovely, though—I sit way more on the patio.”

“I really loved the house that me and my ex-wife [French actress and singer Joséphine de La Baume] had in London,” says Ronson. "We bought it from this woman, Celia Birtwell, who was a muse to David Hockney. She actually designed a lot of the fabrics and stuff that you would see in the background of his work. He painted her a lot, too.”

Ronson continues, almost wistfully, “It was this super charming house, so yeah—a combination of some eccentricity that I got from my mother [socialite and jewelry designer Ann Dexter-Jones]; my ex-wife, a little bit of the Parisian European thing; and then just things that I liked.”

Given his highly idiosyncratic aesthetic, it made sense for Ronson to turn to his friend of 30 years—actually, his first high-school girlfriend—interior designer Mandolyna Theodoracopulos. With a shared history, she was best prepared to translate Ronson’s visual tears and design-speak shorthand into the precise pieces and textiles he would love to live with. The two had worked on his London home, so they already had refined a process to get the job done without wasting resources. “I knew what I wanted already,” says Ronson. “There was no master plan. We’d be in a restaurant and see a finish on a coffee table, and we’d be like, ‘Write that down. Let’s go look it up and see what that is.’ It was pretty simple—but there was always a lot of detail.”

Mark Ronson's 1930s Hideaway Is the Definition of Hollywood Glam

The foyer in musician and producer Mark Ronson's 1930s L.A. home features a grand rotunda with a curved staircase and its original artwork. “I lacquered the banisters black,” says Ronson, who was looking to bring some small personal touches to what was already a successful space. He took a Keith Haring totem, meant to be hung on the wall, and turned it into a sentry of sorts by adding a custom base. “I just knew that I wanted it greeting people as they entered the house,” he adds.
Wearing a vintage shirt paired with Saint Laurent jeans and shoes, Ronson stands beside his dining room table. The dress displayed on the form in the corner of the room is a charming meta-nod to Warhol. During the initial soup-can-as-art phenomenon, the Campbell’s team ran this rather ironic promotion: Send in enough of the can’s labels and enter to win a dress with the soup-can print. Meanwhile, the room’s luxurious dragon-print wallpaper features the same pattern that’s also on one of the couch pillows in Ronson’s London home. “It is nice to have something familiar,” adds Ronson. “And it reminds me of some decadent Mr. Chow restaurant or something.”
Does Ronson ever entertain in his formal dining room? “To be honest, I have had dinner in this room maybe three times,” he says. “Once I had a date in there. It was ridiculous. We sat at the opposite ends of the table and had to shout.” The table is an original Karl Springer design and is covered in goatskin. As for the chairs, Ronson liked that they were neither too bright nor too intrusive and had “a really lovely shape." The horse sculpture centerpiece is a reminder of the adage that if it’s too good to be true, it probably is. “It’s a fake Botero that I bought online for two hundred bucks, thinking it was the real thing,” he says with a laugh. “I was like, I can’t believe no one has been on this website before!”
The two chairs on either side of the couch are recovered loveseats that, decades ago, sat in the lobby of New York’s iconic San Remo. Mark and his family lived in the Central Park West co-op when he was a kid. The chandelier, a stainless-steel fixture with a dozen orange velour lampshades, is from Harrods department store in London. “I was walking through, shopping for a wedding present for my sister. I saw that, and was like, Oh!,” recalls Ronson. “I am fairly impulsive. Six to eight weeks later, it’s in your house.” A painting by Derrick Adams, from the artist’s Culture Club series, hangs behind the couch. The black trim molding is original to the house, as are the decorative tiles along the stairs. In the corner hangs an “appropriately disturbing” print from the Chapman brothers [Jake and Dino Chapman], English artists that Ronson really enjoys. “This is from a show they had in New York. It’s something from a children’s coloring book, of a young boy and girl hanging out,” he explains. “But they have given the little girl a really, really pronounced camel toe or something.”
This vintage 1940s Rippen piano—made from aluminum specifically for use aboard cruise ships (lightweight and moisture-resistant)—is more than pure ornament. When Ronson isn’t playing it, the piano has a built-in player that entertains. The drawing on the left is by Keith Haring. “He’s forever linked with my memories of living in New York,” says Ronson. “It was a fairly inexpensive print, and maybe the first thing I ever bought—when I was 25 and DJing in New York.” The poster to the right is an announcement for the Supremes’ sold-out one-night-only concert at Lincoln Center in the fall of 1965.
Ronson’s living room turntable gets a lot of play. “I mainly play vinyl,” he says. “There’s something cathartic about putting a record on and not worrying what you’re going to play next. To enjoy the music how it was meant to be listened to, even if there’s a song that’s not your favorite on there.” Directly above the sound system is a painting by Moïse Kisling. “He’s one of my favorite painters ever,” says Ronson. “He was part of the Paris school with Kandinsky. Amazing.”
While most of the design and decor takes advantage of the light and airy nature of the house, Ronson wanted something a bit more cozy and perhaps sophisticated for his television room cum den. Looking to complement the vintage clubroom sofa already in the room, he opted for a Japanese silk wallpaper that mimics the look of malachite. All the better to showcase some of his many awards. “You would have to go through the whole house to get back around there,” Ronson explains, genuinely modest. “You’d really only see these if you were sitting and watching TV.” Does he have ambitions to fill that last shelf—a Tony, say, or an Emmy? “Hey, a boy can dream,” says Ronson.
The kitchen was one space Ronson barely touched. “It was just so beautiful as it is,” says the artist. “I remember just walking in and feeling just how spacious and airy it is. Whenever I have people over, they always seem to huddle around that island. It’s so conducive to chatting and bonding.” He re-covered the vintage chairs to match the black-and-white scheme in the breakfast area. Carrara marble tops and Viking appliances remained as is. The stairway to the left takes you the “back way” to the second floor, while a doorway to the right takes you directly onto a covered patio used for hosting and entertaining.
A look at Ronson’s breakfast nook in the home’s spacious kitchen. The iconic Scalamandre zebra wallpaper, here in yellow, is another nostalgic nod to the musician’s childhood. The same print, though in Masai Red, hung in one of the Ronson family’s go-to restaurants in New York City: the since-closed Gino of Capri that used to sit across from then white-hot Bloomingdale’s. “It reminds me of my youth,” says Ronson. “And it’s also in Woody Allen’s Manhattan.” Another relic made relevant? The collection of cassettes boxed and displayed on the kitchen wall. “These are all my favorite albums, but on cassette,” he explains. “Everything from the B-52s to Pete Rock to Sly and the Family Stone.” Through the door, one gets a glimpse of an early print by Lichtenstein, which “accidentally" complements the wallpaper. “It’s weird,” he notes, “but if you squint your eyes and look at [the print], it also looks like zebras bouncing through the air.”
The powder room on the ground floor also features the Scalamandre zebra wallpaper, only here the print is interrupted by a framed keepsake. “Someone told me that you put the fluffiest thing that you own in the guest bathroom because that’s where most people will see it coming and going out of your house,” says Ronson. “So there’s a letter from Stevie Wonder to me that hangs over the bath in there because he’s my all-time favorite.”
The house’s curved staircase takes you to a landing with doors that open to two large bedroom suites, as well as the hidden staircase to the kitchen. The painting on the wall is by an artist named Ella Kruglyanskaya. “I had seen her work a few years ago at Frieze, and it was all sold out,” says Ronson. “I had been waiting for years for her latest show to be done, and this is one of those pieces from it. I actually have a second one in my place in New York.” The two graffiti works are from the Street Market installation by artists Barry McGee, Todd James, and Stephen Powers. Showing at Dietch Projects in 2000, the artists worked to present an apocalyptic version of an urban street.
The master bedroom is like a sapphire blue jewel box. Suede walls match the plush carpeting and rich upholstery and linens. “I saw a picture of, maybe, Valentino’s study in the '70s,” says Ronson. “He had this matching carpet and walls, but it was this teal green thing. For me, it was just easier to go with blue.” This is the view from the foot of his bed. Above the couch is a light fixture Ronson acquired one year at Design Miami/Basel. Each bulb has its own transporting projection within: mellow scenes of hypnotic rain or the calm seas. “It’s just nice to sit on the bed and stare at,” says Ronson whose whirlwind in-demand schedule has him crisscrossing the globe, playing lots of late-night gigs.
The bedroom suite, which is a combination of what had been two bedrooms and two bathrooms, is quite large, with two closets, a dressing room, and hangout areas. “I don’t need a lot of room,” says Ronson. “And so you start putting more decorative furniture around.” The wicker bench, a deliberate contrast to the rich-Italian-playboy aesthetic, had originally been at the foot of the bed, but made its way to this nook, right beneath a print of an Andy Warhol Grevy’s Zebra. Does anyone ever sit there, though? His dogs.
Ronson was particularly enthralled by the property’s lush landscaping, layers of greenery that envelop the home. He looks out on a portion of his greener pastures from his bed. “I’m not a gardener, no,” says Ronson. “This is pretty much a three-man, twice-a-week job anyway.” He found the bright and patterned pillows in an Italian design catalog, opting to use contrasting patterns to create a bit of an installation out of his bed. On the nightstand sits a framed photo of Ronson, around age 10, playing guitar with his stepfather, Mick Jones of legendary '70s rock band Foreigner.
“I let myself have this one little cove,” says Ronson of his modest tribute to his professional success. “I’ve seen houses where you go and there are all these plaques up. It’s kind of fun at first, when you get these first few plaques, but then you realize it’s absolutely obnoxious to be like this. So what made the cut? “One of them is an album I made a while ago [2010’s Record Collection, released under the moniker Mark Ronson & the Business Int’l], that wasn’t one of my biggest records. It’s almost like celebrating that troubled child that doesn’t get into the best college, but it’s nice that he’s finally got a degree in something,” explains Ronson. “The one in the middle is a gift from Bruno [Mars]. He played a tribute to Amy [Winehouse] before we’d ever actually met. It was at the MTV Awards, because it was right after she passed. He played "Valerie," and that was what was on this drum. When we finally met, he wrote this nice message that said, “I like to think, in some way, she brought us together,” which it says on the plaque. (Ronson had coproduced Winehouse’s multiplatinum second record, Back to Black.)
Ronson says it was the gardens and this terrace with its original hand-painted tiles that put this property at the top of his list. “I was told it was done by the guy who had done the bungalows at the Beverly Hills Hotel,” says Ronson, referring to William Asa Hudson. “It’s got that Old Hollywood thing back here, and it felt very exotic and otherworldly, coming from London to this house.” Even better, the intricate tilework was complete and in mint condition.
There is a private two-story guesthouse on the grounds. “Anyone who stays here becomes quite smitten with it,” says Ronson. “I mean, the guesthouse here is probably bigger than any of my first six apartments in New York.” The downstairs features an open living area, a kitchen, and a sitting nook. A spiral staircase leads you up to a single bedroom. The swimming pool is right on its front lawn. “I would actually like to entertain by the pool more,” he says. “But I’ve still got this New York, London streak, where it feels like sitting outside by a pool is something you do only on vacation. Even on a day off, it’s a bit anti my nature to just sit at the pool. It is lovely, though—I sit way more on the patio.”

Originally Appeared on Architectural Digest