By Ann Volkwein
Photographs by Abigail Fenton
At Foothill Farm, tucked under Baldhead Mountain in Lenox, an avant-garde cellist, Maya Beiser, and a renowned psychiatrist, Dr. Rami Kaminski, have created a sanctuary that invites the environment of the Berkshires in to play. It’s a captivating exchange between the light, the trees, and the gardens that provides a serene setting for creativity.
The couple lived together mainly in New York City (where they raised their two children, now young adults). But, during COVID, Kaminski discovered he didn’t have to be tethered to the city. “I was born by the sea,” he said. “When we ended up here, I realized how much I like the nature. There’s something about this house; it’s almost like it was meant for us.” He has since attentively indulged in tending a robust vegetable garden, redesigning the terraced gardens, and gently nurturing potted fig trees. *
Beiser’s roots, on the other hand, are more connected to the land; she was raised by her French mother and Argentinean father on a kibbutz in Israel. Her attraction to the cello was her first step toward what became a completely original path. They only had violins in the kibbutz, and she had to campaign to get a cello. “We were in a very rich cultural environment that encouraged you to develop an individual expression on the one hand, but, on the other hand, everything had to be decided by the group. So, for me, I developed this incredible desire to just create my own world.” Celebrated violinist Isaac Stern discovered her when she was 12, and that soon led her off the commune and around the world. Her latest album, “Maya Beiser x Terry Riley in C,” was named a Top Ten Classical Album of 2024 by The New York Times, NPR, and the Boston Globe.
There’s an undeniably individual intensity to Beiser’s presence, music, and refined aesthetic. While Kaminski tended to the gardens, Beiser’s eye turned toward the interior design. The former barn/guest house, which they call The Art, is her recording studio. “We found this incredible place in 2021. I just went into that barn and thought, wow, you know I really could see myself recording the Bach Cello Suites here.” Beiser explains that, for a cellist, it’s the most iconic of classical music, and, if you’re a serious cellist, you eventually record those suites.
The home’s original section was a small 1838 farmhouse in the New England Federal style. Previous owner (and Broadway producer) Anita Waxman made the most dramatic changes in the ’90s with architect Tim Techler, including a large addition. “We reimagined it, but we didn’t design it,” said Beiser. Her first step was to strip and pickle the old wood floors until they glowed and paint all the walls Benjamin Moore’s Decorator’s White. A proper tabula rasa.
“I didn’t know that I could find my own voice. But when we came here, I thought, this is the place where I can allow myself to just be surrounded by nature and find a new way to do it. And that’s what I ended up doing the first two years, just recording those suites.” The result is the album “Infinite Bach,” an acoustically layered, ethereal rendition of the six suites that explores the reverberations and harmonics of her barn studio.
She kept the pops of vibrant color by tile artist Phillip Mayberry in the bath and spa rooms (what she calls “a bit of Versace.”) And she shifted the dining room to what was once the patio, placing the table on the trompe l’oeil tile “rug.”
Kaminski is the founder/director of The Institute for Integrative Psychiatry and The Otherness Institute in New York, but his home office is the former vicar’s room, the oldest part of the house. Beiser stripped away layers of red paint and gold trim to create his peaceful space, where, over the past few years he wrote his upcoming book, “The Gift of Not Belonging: How Outsiders Thrive in a World of Joiners” (Little, Brown Spark, June 2025). The book highlights the life experience of people he terms otroverts: those among us who, while being empathetic and friendly, fail to fulfill society’s definition of fitting in, not out of shyness or as a result of marginalization, but out of an inability to feel like they belong. Rather than embracing their innate individualism, they often feel as though something is wrong with them. “You don’t need to belong in order to connect,” said Kaminski. Let that statement sink in, and grasp just how radical a notion this truly is in a world that rewards joiners, one that is focused on defining oneself on so many cultural, gender, and political levels. The question he posits is, is belonging a clear part of human nature? Aren’t we all in essence born as non-belongers?
Drama and comfort intersect here, with a whimsical serenity to the soft, sculptural sofas and scale of the modern fixtures. Maya and Rami often chat on the steps to the kitchen, which opens to the long, skylit front hall, warmed by radiant-heat floors.
The book’s message is imbued with tenderness, helping to define the gifts inherent in being an otrovert. As one of Kaminski’s clients observed, the book is both validating and a kind of guide. Not belonging can lend great freedom and fulfillment in life, and otroverts can have an outsize impact on the world, contributing unique and alternative perspectives outside of the modern communal brain. “Belonging is something that we are indoctrinated to believe,” said Kaminski. “The most important thing is to enjoy being yourself. Because you are the only one in the world that lives your life. And so, your responsibility to your life is enormous. You are allowed to define yourself for yourself.”
Their home allows them to do just that: “We can exist in this space, each in our creative worlds,” said Beiser. B
I just went into that barn and thought, I could really see myself recording the Bach Cello Suites here.”
A spiral staircase leads from the lower living area of the barn to Maya’s studio, where a wall of windows, curved outward like the bow of a ship, allows the sunlight and rock garden below to permeate the recording space.
