
When you place a small painting on a wall surrounded by generous negative space, something unexpected happens. Rather than disappearing into the expanse, it commands attention in a way that invites intimacy. A fresh visual discovery that asks you to step closer, to lean in and examine the brushstrokes, to engage with the work on a deeply personal level.
This phenomenon has caught the attention of the design world, with conversations emerging about the power of tiny paintings in contemporary interiors. But as someone who spent years working in contemporary galleries before transitioning to interior design, I see this as more than a fleeting trend. It represents a fundamental shift in how we experience art in our living spaces, moving away from the imposing statement pieces that dominated just a few years ago toward something more considered and intimate.
Art personalizes everything. It’s where I begin in every project, not where I finish. This approach stems from my background as an art historian and my years working in galleries, where I learned that the most meaningful collections emerge from intention, attraction, desire, and instinct rather than from decorative necessity.
When we surround a small work with negative space—on a mantel, above a console, or even alone on a large wall where convention might dictate something oversized—we’re creating an opportunity for genuine engagement. The intimacy of standing close to examine details creates a different kind of relationship with art than the impressive but often distant experience of a large-scale piece. Both have their place, and the most sophisticated interiors understand how to balance these contrasting scales.
The gallery wall remains one of my favorite design elements, but the difference between a curated gallery wall and a generic one comes down to intentionality. Each piece needs to have impact in its own right while contributing to a greater visual narrative.

In my Tribeca apartment, I’ve combined large abstract paintings with a small, unconventional piece made entirely of colored artist’s tape. Their color stories don’t match in any traditional sense. Yet something works because all the pieces share an ineffable quality, they’re each just enough “off” to create visual harmony rather than predictable coordination. This is the playful tension I’m always pursuing in my work.
By combining various sizes of artwork together, you create a visual rhythm that guides the eye naturally across the wall. The viewer perceives both individual details and the composition as a whole simultaneously. This is where thoughtful curation transcends mere decoration when the arrangement itself becomes part of the artistic statement.
The key is establishing consistent principles while varying scale and intensity. In one of our guest bedrooms at our NJ shore house, I combined Quadrille wallpaper with artwork of varying sizes and subjects. The large-scale wallpaper provides a confident backdrop, while smaller pieces add intimate moments of discovery without competing for attention. The result feels collected over time rather than installed all at once.
Some of my favorite design moments emerge from defying conventional placement wisdom. A series of tiny paintings above a bed instead of the expected large piece. A miniature portrait layered over bold wallpaper. A cluster of small works juxtaposed against an oversized canvas on an adjacent wall.
This approach creates what I think of as “visual surprise”—moments that make you pause and reconsider assumptions about how art should be displayed. The effect can feel almost tongue-in-cheek while maintaining complete sophistication. It’s that balance between whimsy and refinement that defines my aesthetic philosophy.
Consider layering different eras and styles through this lens. A 17th-century portrait against modern graphic wallpaper. A contemporary black and white photograph over smaller-scale historic patterns. These unexpected pairings work when a consistent approach to scale, placement, and the overall design narrative unites them.
One unconventional placement technique I frequently employ draws from Georgian England: picture rails. These moldings, which originated in the mid-1700s as a practical solution for hanging art without damaging plaster walls, add an architectural element of interest while providing flexibility for evolving collections.
In contemporary interiors, picture rails serve a dual purpose. They reference historical design precedent while solving modern challenges, particularly for collectors whose acquisitions evolve over time. The ability to rearrange without causing new wall damage supports a living, breathing art display that feels authentically curated rather than permanently installed.
This integration of historical elements with contemporary sensibility reflects my broader design philosophy. I’m constantly exploring the juncture where explosive maximalist English style meets the strength and calm of architectural form. The result is often pattern and texture deployed in subtle, sophisticated colorways mixed with strong architectural details, a beautiful contradiction that somehow resolves itself.

The most significant difference between working with art as a designer versus working with art as decoration lies in timing and intention. I strongly advocate for starting design projects by acquiring art first, despite the seeming counterintuitive nature of this approach when faced with substantial renovation costs.
Art selected with genuine intention becomes the foundation for everything that follows. I guide clients through an aesthetic deep dive, uncovering their signature style by understanding what truly resonates with them beyond surface preferences or trending aesthetics. Once we establish what feels authentically “right,” pieces of various mediums work together effortlessly because they’re united by something deeper than coordinated colors or matching frames.
In one project, I combined mostly abstract paintings with a Michael Wolf photograph of Hong Kong buildings that reads as abstract despite its documentary origins. Everything coheres because the soul of each piece aligns—the same energy, the same essential quality, even when the subjects and techniques differ dramatically.

This approach extends to sculpture and three-dimensional work as well, though the dynamics differ since most sculptural pieces require structural support rather than simple wall hanging. I particularly love helping clients collect “smalls”—sculptural objects and ceramics displayed artfully on mantels, bookshelves, or integrated into custom millwork. These pieces create moments of discovery throughout a home, small visual surprises that reveal authentic taste rather than anticipated choices.

The romance of art display must be supported by technical rigor, particularly regarding illumination. Every piece on display deserves its own dedicated source of accent light, whether that’s a picture light, wall wash, track light, or dedicated ceiling spot.
For smaller, singular works, I like to use wall-mounted picture lights to provide uniform light with architectural interest. When dealing with very large artwork, wall washing provides the most even distribution of light across the entire surface. The technique you choose should respond to both the scale of the work and its surface characteristics.
One crucial consideration often overlooked: any piece behind reflective glass will simply bounce light back rather than revealing the work itself. During the framing process, specify non-reflective museum-quality glass. This seemingly small detail dramatically affects how successfully your lighting illuminates the actual artwork rather than creating glare.
The surface of the work itself also dictates the lighting approach. Highly textured paintings benefit from angled light that creates shadows and emphasizes dimensionality. Flat works, such as photography or prints, require more even illumination. Understanding these nuances transforms adequate art display into an exceptional presentation.
Successfully displaying different types of art—paintings, photography, sculptures, works on paper—together requires understanding what I call the “soul” of each piece. This is the work I find most rewarding, helping clients discover their signature aesthetic through careful curation across mediums.
The process involves looking beyond obvious visual similarities to identify deeper connections. On my own gallery wall, mostly abstract paintings work alongside pieces that seem dramatically different in medium or approach because they share an essential quality, a particular relationship to color, form, or concept that creates subtle visual resonance.
What makes a gallery wall feel genuinely curated rather than generic? Each piece must justify its presence through individual merit while advancing the collective composition. The pieces I’m drawn to often share a quality of being slightly unconventional and just enough “off” that they avoid predictability while maintaining sophistication.
The direction I’m pushing most enthusiastically in current projects involves site-specific, highly bespoke artwork created specifically for individual clients and their particular spaces. This doesn’t necessarily require enormous budgets, but it demands imagination and collaboration with artists and artisans who understand the vision.

For our Manasquan house powder room, I commissioned artist Adam Wallacavage to create a custom octopus-shaped sconce that nods subtly to the marine environment without veering into literal beach house territory. Combined with scalloped sconces from Matilda Goad and Galbraith and Paul wallpaper via Holland and Sherry, the space became a memorable design moment that reflects our family’s personality far more authentically than any purchased art could achieve.
I’m also seeing murals resurface across projects, either painted directly on-site or installed as custom wallpaper. This represents a return to treating walls themselves as canvases, blurring the line between architecture, decoration, and art in ways that create truly immersive environments.

Throughout my career as both an art historian and designer, I’ve maintained a particular affection for art that challenges aesthetic conventions—work that makes you pause, reconsider, and lean in with curiosity rather than offering immediate visual pleasure. Not every piece needs to be conventionally beautiful or instantly gratifying.
This philosophy extends to how we curate collections within living spaces. The most interesting homes include pieces that provoke questions, that represent artistic risk, that might not photograph as perfectly as more decorative alternatives, but create genuine engagement with anyone who encounters them.
These challenging pieces often become the most meaningful elements in a home precisely because they demand something from the viewer. They’re the works that guests remember, that spark conversation, that reveal the homeowner’s willingness to trust their own taste rather than defaulting to safe, expected choices.
As collections grow and evolve, the infrastructure supporting them must provide flexibility. This is where architectural interventions like picture rails, custom millwork with integrated display areas, and thoughtfully planned lighting systems prove their worth.

In my shore home, the custom millwork library in our office serves multiple purposes—book storage, certainly, but also carefully designed opportunities for displaying smaller sculptural works and objects. These built-in display moments feel integrated with the architecture rather than applied as an afterthought.

The stairwell, which extends through the double height of the house, offers opportunities for creating what I call “little design moments” as you progress through the space. A 15th-century antique Spanish table functions as both bar and buffet while providing a surface for displaying artwork purchased from Pocoapoco, an Oaxaca-based nonprofit. The plaster lime wash textured finish differentiates this vertical space from the first floor, creating a gallery-like atmosphere that elevates the artwork without competing with it.
The ultimate goal of thoughtful art curation is not to create a museum-like environment, but to integrate meaningful work seamlessly into daily life. The pieces should enhance lived experience rather than existing as precious objects that demand careful navigation around them.
This balance between sophistication and livability defines my approach across all projects. In our family room at the shore house, a piece by artist Margot Bergman anchors the space—bold and visually arresting, yet comfortable enough that sandy feet and casual entertaining never feel at odds with the art’s presence. The custom stool with fabric from Zak and Fox invites actual use while maintaining the refined aesthetic that makes the room feel completely resolved.
Art that challenges conventional notions of beauty particularly excels in this context. When pieces provoke genuine engagement rather than simply providing a decorative backdrop, they become part of the home’s living narrative rather than static decoration. They grow more meaningful over time rather than fading into visual wallpaper.
The process of building a meaningful art collection for your home begins with honest self-assessment about what genuinely speaks to you, setting aside concerns about trends, resale value, or what you think you “should” like. The most successful collections reflect authentic taste developed through curiosity and willingness to trust your instincts.
Start by visiting galleries, museums, and art fairs, not necessarily to purchase but to train your eye and identify patterns in what captures your attention. What makes you stop and look more closely? What creates that visceral response that transcends intellectual analysis? These responses provide invaluable guidance for developing your collecting philosophy.
Consider working with designers or art advisors who understand the difference between decoration and curation, who can help articulate what draws you to certain work and identify artists or pieces that align with those authentic preferences. The investment in this guidance often prevents costly mistakes while accelerating the development of a cohesive, meaningful collection.
Your home should tell the story of your life through your living spaces. Art is how we begin writing that story—one meaningful piece at a time, whether it’s a tiny painting commanding attention on a vast wall or a bold statement piece that transforms an entire room. The key lies in approaching each acquisition with intention, each placement with consideration, and each arrangement with the understanding that the most sophisticated spaces feel curated over time rather than decorated all at once.
Ready to curate a meaningful art collection that transforms your home into a space that feels like livable art? Contact Laura Krey Design to explore how we can incorporate your existing pieces and discover new works that reflect your unique taste and challenge conventional beauty standards.

Contact Us to discuss your project and explore how Laura Krey Design can create a home that feels like livable art—where every detail has meaning and every room tells a story.