Posted on: October 9, 2008
The Beethoven of Design
For a blind interior designer, the creative process is nothing short of an eye-opening experience
By Dave Waldon
CTW Features
Eric Brun-Sanglard is more than just another successful interior designer. He also sculpts and plays the piano. He's a fitness buff, doing everything from swimming to Rollerblading. He hikes in the mountains and jumps out of airplanes. In short, Eric B., as friends and clients alike know him, is a typical citizen of Los Angeles, home of the beautiful feeling.
Oh, Brun-Sanglard also happens to be blind. Though at times, according to those who know him, the 45-year-old is the last to realize that he has what many would call a �disability.� �It�s true � I guess I don�t think I�m blind,� he says during a rare quiet moment in the bustling office that houses his company � which is called, fittingly enough, The Blind Designer, Inc. �I don�t go around thinking, �Oh my God, I�m blind.��
His attitude is a far cry from the reaction he thought he would have when he was younger. Growing up in his native France, he would have nightmares about losing his sight, and he resolved that if that ever happened to him, he would take his own life rather than live that way. In 1995, Brun-Sanglard, who is HIV-positive, saw his fears become reality when he suffered an attack of cytomegalovirus, a disease that can run rampant in patients with suppressed immune systems. The virus destroyed his optic nerves, and suddenly a man who had worked with visuals as an advertising executive with companies such as Chanel and Christian Dior was left in the dark.
Rather than feel sorry for himself, though, Brun-Sanglard decided to get on with his life â“ and it wasn't long before life handed him a surprising new career. While Brun-Sanglard was getting his guide dog in San Francisco, his then-partner was in L.A. searching for their new house. When two were found, Brun-Sanglard made a decision after he walked through both possibilities.
"We came up with the idea of buying both and fixing up [one] and selling it," he says. "I started designing it and getting the materials, and it was really fun. And that's when I realized that I could do that. So we redid that house, we sold it right way, got a bunch of offers on it. And we moved on to the one that we lived in and totally redid it so it looked really nice. So it really happened by accident. It's not like I got up one day and said, 'I'm going to become a designer.' And when people started seeing my work and seeing the final product, they started asking me to work for them."
By 1997, Brun-Sanglard and his partner were running a business that specialized in both interior design and construction. But Brun-Sanglard's challenges were far from over. A professional and personal split resulted in the business going under and him having to start over, but later rebounding with his current operation. Then in 2006, just as he was wrapping production on an A&E series called "Designing Blind," Brun-Sanglard went into kidney failure, which caused his work to grind to a halt. Last November, he underwent a successful transplant, and soon after he was back up to speed. Today his health is good and his viral count is virtually infinitesimal.
"I believe that each challenge makes me stronger, and I learn more about myself and more about life, and I get more tools in my toolbox," he says.
One of these said tools is Brun-Sanglard's ability to relate to his clients on their level. The role that his own houses played in his recoveries following his health crises have given him perspective about the importance of everyone's personal space.
"When I lost my sight, I realized that my home was my sanctuary, my safe place, my safe haven," he says. "And that's probably why I started designing homes, because I needed to have a space around me where I felt good, where I felt like it was going to be a special place.
"And I think it's helped me create homes that are more about the person â“ about being a cocoon. And that's what I'm really good at creating, a home that feels really good. Yeah, it looks good and it's everything they might want, but it's more than that. It's about coming home and feeling, 'Wow, it's so great to be home.'
"I think there are a lot of designers who don't get that, who just create a beautiful space, but it's a place where you don't even want to be because it's like a museum or like a showroom. It's beautiful to look at, but not really inviting.
"The most important thing to creating a home is giving it a feeling of being a home. And that means something that is not only going to reflect my work, but reflect the person�s needs and emotions and life ⓠtheir life, not my life."
Brun-Sanglard describes the relationship that he has with his clients as "very intimate," a matter of trust. But he also wants them to become intimate with their homes. To that end, he encourages those he works with to see their rooms as he does â“ with everything but their eyes. "I ask my clients to close their eyes and discover their spaces without looking at them, and by just going around and feeling the walls, feeling around the space," he says. "Your body can be your measuring tape, and you can use your own body to judge the space around you. So you feel good moving around, sitting in your chair, sitting on the couch. How much room do you need?"
The designer also has his clients sit in the soon-to-be-redesigned room to get the sense â“ or senses â“ of things. "(I have them) take notice of the smells, make noises to see how sound travels," Brun-Sanglard says. "At different times of the day, sit in the room and see how the sun comes in, and all of those different aspects. I really want them to get in touch with the energy of the room. I don't care what's in right now. It should be what feels good to you, what inspires you."
Brun-Sanglard's own inspiration is quite abundant these days. When he's not juggling multiple projects for others, he occasionally works on his own property, having just redone his backyard. He's also developing a new TV series, "Sight Unseen," along with writing his memoirs. It's probably in bad taste (not to mention a cliché) to say that Brun-Sanglard's future is so bright, he has to wear shades. But the future is definitely where his attention is directed.
"I don't even have a portfolio from my advertising days," he says. "At times that makes me sad, because I wish I had a portfolio that would at least show the work that I've done. But I think it really helped me to move on to where I am today. I didn't want to keep things from my past; I only wanted to let go of that and to move forward."