SELLER: Kurt Rappaport
LOCATION: N. Crescent Drive, Beverly Hills, CA
SIZE: 8 bedrooms, 9.5 bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: ...The finest estate available, located on the most prime and desirable block in Beverly Hills just above the Beverly Hills Hotel. Designed by Waldo Fernandez and completely rebuilt using the highest quality materials & craftsmanship. Spectacular 2-story entry, dramatic paneled library/billiard room, incredible kitchen opens to family/great room, magnificent master ste. w/ his/hers, theater, wine cellar, gym, guest hse, huge motorcourt, spectacular gardens & infinity pool.
YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Kurt Rappaport may not be a celebrity of the film or television variety, but he is a very high profile Beverly Hills real estate agent who has made a fair sized fortune brokering big deals for more people in the bizness of show than we could possibly count. The children who haven't ruined their minds with the dope or booze will surely recall that it was Mister Rappaport who took in thirty-some million clams back in the Spring of 2007 when sold his freshly renovated house in Beverly Hills to that disturbing and robotic Tom Crooz fellow who proceeded to spend many more millions re-renovating.
Shortly after vacating his house on Calle Vista Drive so that the Crooz clan could take up residence, Mister Rappaport snatched up tire tycoon Lawrence Kraines crib on nearby N. Crescent Drive in Beverly Hills. Property records reveal, along with information received at the time of the purchase from both Lucy Spillerguts and Our Fairy Godmother in Beverly Hills, that just last year, in March of 2008, Mister and Missus Rappaport paid $13,200,000 for the 12,981 square foot pile.
Now, just one year later, after noted decorator to the rich and famous Waldo Fernandez worked the place over, the AAA located property has been flipped back on the market with a stunning asking price of $28,500,000. You have to admit children, it takes some serious real estate balls to attempt to flip a Beverly Hills mansion in the current economic climate at more than twice what was paid for it a year ago...even if it was fully renovated with the finest materials and is located on one of the most sought after streets in all of Beverly Hills.
Listing information reveals the Rappaport residence measures in at approximately 15,000 square feet, which would indicate that the couple either added a bit here and there to the house or they've included the guest house square footage in that figure.
Listing information also indicates the double gated stone manor house contains 8 bedrooms and 9.5 bathrooms including a massive master suite with a vintage Verner Panton shell chandelier, a fireplace, a vacuum unfriendly, fuzzy white area rug that looks like it was woven with the hair bunnies of our sheding and seriously sour pussycat Sugar leaves, and, as expected, marble his and hers (or hers and hers, etc.) everything.
The huge home is entered through an impressive and, indeed, dramatic two story stair hall that sets the traditional meets modern (but not too modern) decorative tone for the entire house. The parquet floors have been picked (or perhaps white-washed, we're not sure), the walls glisten with a light reflecting white paint and vibrant colors pop off the furniture, rug and sextet of Andy Warhol prints (or posters, or whatever) hung high on the wall behind the gently curving staircase. The rear wall of the entry has several sets of French doors that open graciously and informally to the back yard. If we're being truthful, and we always are, Your Mama admits that but for the cliché orchids on the glass table, we're sort of swooning over this crisp and elegantly contemporary entrance hall.
Formal living and dining rooms are available for formal living and dining events, but it's the more informal areas on the ground floor that provide owners and guests with some lovely and casual rooms in which to actually live. The coffered, dentiled and architecturally serious ceiling in the library/billiard room has been de-stuffy-fied but stripping (or pickling, or whatever) the perfectly pleasing paneling that covers the walls from floor to ceiling, and adding contemporary black and white photograph over the fireplace. The effective juxtaposition of old-school and up to date is further enhanced by the simple and modern light fixtures and a couple of Art Deco era club chairs covered in mint velvet (or velour, or whatever). We are not normally fond of pool tables in private homes, but if one must be included, this one from the 1930s–which probably cost as much as a Mercedes–is certainly an acceptable option.
The rear rooms on the lower level include a white-walled step-down family room that is large enough to accommodate several seating areas has has a row of French doors that open to the garden. The family room flows into the newly installed kitchen which appears to have two of everything. For strapping on the feed bag, there is a long counter with a row of iron and wicker stools and a big breakfast area tucked into a bay window.
Additional amenities, according to listing information, that should appeal to whatever 8-figure buyers are still out there shopping for a new mansion include the large motor court, garage parking for several sedans and sports cars, a brick lined wine cellar, home theater, home gym, home office, and art studio and a dance studio, separate quarters for guests or live-in staff and an elevator because, let's face it, who wants to be navigating a long staircase after a long night of gin and tonics and reality tee-vee programs played on the big screen in the media room?
The newly added and simply shaped infinity edged swimming pool and spa sits in the rear corner of the yard and replaces the over-processed backyard extravaganza that Mister Kraines had installed. A very, very long stretch of newly installed sod is a blank canvas where the new owner's landscape architect can go hog wild.
As deeply desirable as N. Crescent Drive is to all those really rich people who know and care about the difference between Beverly Hills and the Beverly Hills Post Office, it remains to be seen if Mister Rappaport can get anywhere near his asking price. Unless he's got his eyeballs on something else, Your Mama suspects the successful property pusher is not in a hurry to sell and that he can, and will, hold out for a large number that rings his bell, wets his whistle and lines the Missus' Birkin bag with $1,000 bills.