The seven-story, $50 million luxury condo building on the corner of West Fourth Avenue and Acoma Street in Denver’s historic Baker neighborhood stands as testament to the past four years of developer Agatha Kessler’s life.
Designed by Fentress Bradburn Architecture to be a Zen retreat in the city, the Watermark is a first for Kessler, who was born in Hong Kong, educated in England, and has since lived and worked around the world.
Look down to the ground from her two-story, 3,000- square-foot penthouse at the Watermark, which she only recently inhabited, and the sidewalk looks like rings of water made from stone and moss that are rippling away from the building.
“We have the mountains,” Kessler says, “so we needed the water.”
Her building is also Denver’s first to feature a rooftop infinity swimming pool.
Kessler has been making waves of her own in the predominantly male commercial real estate businesses. It’s here at the Watermark that she conceived the home of her dreams — an escape filled with artful mementos. These are some her favorites.
Collected is a periodic feature about people and their stuff. Elana Ashanti Jefferson: 303-954-1957 or ejefferson@denverpost.com
Divine equine: Kessler’s ex-husband, a laser physicist and computer entrepreneur, bought this Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) porcelain horse during travels in China. “Fifteen or 20 years ago,” Kessler says, “you could get very good authentic (Chinese) art for a fraction of the price as now.” These days Chinese law dictates that objects older than 300 years are not allowed to be exported, making this horse especially precious.
“He stands with pride” on a high shelf in Kessler’s kitchen, but not because that’s an especially sacred place.
“No one,” she says, “can knock it over there.”
Warrior bronze: This Meiji Period (1868-1912) vase includes the classic Japanese imperial stamp, a cherry blossom. Kessler says it was rare for Meiji vases to stand as tall as this one, which is about 21 inches. Nine interwoven dragons emerge in the etchings, which she believes represent safety, protection and eternity. She was drawn to the piece at an auction in Tokyo.
“The Meiji Emperor gave it to one of his Shoguns as a reward,” Kessler says. His family later sold it to an auction house, which is how an imperial piece like this ends up in “the hands of a commoner.”
Animal attraction: Slinky, googly-eyed industrial art in the form of an alligator and a crocodile perch on a table behind a black-and-white sofa in Kessler’s mountain-view living room. The animals were gifts from her boyfriend. Made from old typewriter parts, she keeps them with a glass frog, which was also a gift. Together the menagerie reminds Kessler of a fable she heard growing up and continues to heed. As she tells it:
An alligator is swimming along in a river, and the water is very swift. Too swift for a frog to cross from one side to the other. So the alligator stops on the river bank and says, “I’ll take you across” to a frog that is waiting there.
“No, no, no,” the frog protests. “You’ll eat me!”
“I just ate lunch,” the alligator says. “So I’m not hungry. Besides, you are but a toothpick to me.”
So the frog accepts the offer and hops on the alligator’s snout for a ride from one side of the river to the other. Then, just before they reach the bank, the alligator flips up his snout and opens his mouth.
“You promised you would not do this!” the frog says.
“I’m sorry,” the alligator says, “but it’s my nature.”
Prayer party: A set of six carved wood Buddhist monks made in Burma and purchased in Bangkok stands just inside Kessler’s front door. She says the collection is about 150 years old. “The colors are so incredible,” she adds, “and they have this peacefulness on their faces.” She posed the monks near the entrance to her home because they “help to keep me in perspective.”
