Upon moving into the 1950s building last April, Bellavance-Lecompte tore down a wall in the living room to create what he calls ‘‘the flow of an Ottoman-style house,’’ with the bedroom, living room and terraces surrounding the central dining area. Each room in the apartment is, inevitably, a gallery space — for his own productions, for vintage pieces and for the objects by the informal school of architects and designers he has gathered around him — but a sociable one: the L-shaped white divan in the living room can seat many. There are six Oeuffice Kapital tables of varying sizes scattered around the place, each made of interlocking pieces of different Italian marbles, the largest of which he uses as a dining table. A chandelier assembled from LED neons by Bec Brittain, a young ­Brooklyn-based lighting designer Carwan represents, hangs over it, asymmetrical and airy as the apartment itself. Another distinctly Carwan presence is the ‘‘Arab Doll’’ object by Carlo Massoud, which brings to mind both a bullet and a veiled woman.

Before becoming a designer, Bellavance-Lecompte worked in Berlin for the sculptor-photographer Thomas Demand. After studying with artists such as Olafur Eliasson and Grazia Toderi at the Terese in Venice, he realized that he preferred making design objects to art — yet his apartment nonetheless demonstrates his attraction to the kind of conceptual, collectible pieces that seem to confuse the distinctions ­between skilled labor and industrial processes. In the hallway leading from the kitchen hangs a series of four Coca-Cola signs in Arabic script from the 1970s, when such things were still hand-painted. In the dining room, a tall black steel ‘‘totem’’ by Oeuffice, which Bellavance-Lecompte describes as a ‘‘domestic altar in which to display objects in a personal way,’’ holds a mysterious figure resembling a white porcelain Chinese Buddhist sculpture — actually a stalactite formed from the dripping of expanded polyurethane from the manufacture of rubber boots. The sculpture was rescued by the Belgian architecture collective Rotor, also represented by the gallery.

‘‘Carwan’’ refers to the caravanserais where travelers would pause to rest from their journeys, the sites of a constant exchange of commerce, information and people. Bellavance-Lecompte’s apartment feels like one such place, and yet it is also strikingly minimalist, restrained and, so, innately, unmistakably Milanese. There are the gray walls, oak herringbone floors, marbled and mirrored surfaces; the multicolored handwoven fabrics that soften the hard edges of the architecture; and then, of course, the more obvious ­signals: a folding chair by Gio Ponti; a table lamp by Pietro Chiesa; a panettone on the kitchen counter, still wrapped in cellophane, awaiting a moment when Bellavance-Lecompte has the chance to open it.