At Home With - Kecia Lewis

“I feel like with the kind of work we do as artists, we are literally giving ourselves — we’re giving our body and voice and spirit,” said Kecia Lewis, who recently won a Tony Award for her performance as the tough-minded but inspirational piano teacher Miss Liza Jane in the musical “Hell’s Kitchen.”

What with all that giving at the theater, Ms. Lewis was in the market for a place that did the giving — “that made me feel welcome when I was just being still” — when she started looking for apartments in Manhattan for the run of her “Hell’s Kitchen” contract.

“It had to feel peaceful, because I have to be able to pray,” said Ms. Lewis, 59, a native New Yorker now based in Atlanta. “I have stayed in places where it was not peaceful, and I have moved out. If it feels like there’s an energy that’s frenetic or chaotic, I’m like, ‘No, not for me.’”

She was 18 when she got her first role on Broadway, in the original production of “Dreamgirls,” and has since appeared in numerous shows, among them “Once on This Island” and “Chicago.” Last spring, she came north for a couple of “Hell’s Kitchen” workshops. On one visit, she stayed at an Airbnb in New Jersey, and then an Airbnb in Queens.

“But once we knew we were going to Broadway, I wanted to find something in the city,” Ms. Lewis said. Not too close to Midtown, but not so far as to make for a burdensome commute to the stage door.

Kecia Lewis stands in a doorway in her apartment.

Her manager reminded her about Listings Project, a weekly online newsletter of vetted real estate prospects. Ms. Lewis searched for a one-bedroom and fell in love with the first one she saw: a floor-through overlooking a garden in a Washington Heights townhouse.

When she got to the bottom of the listing, it turned out she knew the building’s owner, Clint Ramos, a Tony Award-winning set and costume designer, who lived in the building with his family. It was old home week.

Looking up at the window boxes outside Kecia Lewis's apartment.

Mr. Ramos sent her a video of the apartment, which had exposed brick in the living room, a small second bedroom/office, window boxes with fake flowers (a touch she found charming) and an expansive, airy feel.

A wide view of Kecia Lewis's living room.

Although the apartment came fully furnished, and Ms. Lewis was happy with the décor — she has a funky rug in the living room of her Atlanta condo, and the rental had a funky rug; she has a sectional with colorful throw pillows in Atlanta; there was a sectional with colorful throw pillows in the rental — she knew she could make tweaks without hurting Mr. Ramos’s feelings.

“Clint told me, ‘Take things down if you want me to move them out,’” she said.

The sofa in Kecia Lewis's living room, decorated with patterned throw pillows.

Well, OK, maybe just a few things. The two framed deer illustrations over the bed are going to be history any day now. Another portrait of a deer in the living room made way for the large flat-screen TV that Ms. Lewis had vowed to buy for herself if she won the Tony.

The flat-screen TV in Kecia Lewis's apartment, above a low table and next to a red chair.

Her Tony statuette and the Lucille Lortel, Outer Critics Circle and Richard Seff Awards will soon move from a low table to a custom-built shelf, displacing a framed print of assorted insects.

Ms. Lewis brought a few select items from Atlanta, including a scripture blanket with a quote, “I Believe in Miracles,” and two sets of the fine bed linens she favors. “I look for a 1,200 to 1,500 thread count,” she said. “I like my luxuries.”

The apartment’s railroad flat configuration is a plus. “It’s more like a house, because it feels like you’re in different spaces in every room,” Ms. Lewis said.

“It’s like there’s something here,” she continued, gesturing at the entryway, “and there’s another kind of space over here, and my bedroom is another space.”

The bed is covered in a bright blue bedspread and sits opposite a dresser.

While she doesn’t bring her work home with her, she does inadvertently bring her false eyelashes. They rest like a conclave of centipedes on the dresser opposite the bed.

“I take pictures with people at the stage door, so the lashes end up back home,” Ms. Lewis said. “At any given time, there could be seven pairs here before I take them back to the theater.”

Other items she brought from home include an assortment of scented candles and a melter for scented wax. Ms. Lewis is very big on scents.

Citrus wafts from the bathroom, a spicy something or other perfumes the living room, and pumpkin bread is the top note in the bedroom, with brownie and pecan pie on the menu later this week. “My favorite scents are any kind of food, usually sweet,” she said.

Also tucked into her luggage: a SodaStream, a Keurig coffee maker, a NutriBullet, a water pitcher and two favorite mugs from her expansive collection.

Looking into the white kitchen, with several bottles of champagne sitting on the counter.

“I try to buy a mug from every city I’m in,” she said.

She has a set peripatetic routine every morning: coffee while perched on one of the red Eames-style molded chairs around the dining table, followed by meditation and Bible-reading on the sectional and then worship in the office.

Kecia Lewis sits at a small, round breakfast table next to two bright red chairs, wearing a bright orange pantsuit.

“There’s something about that room,” said Ms. Lewis, who has a ministry license that allows her to preach, and is hoping to become ordained. “I enjoy being in there with the door closed. I like to put on my prayer blanket or wrap it around me like a tallit,” she said, referring to the fringed shawl worn by observant Jews.

In Kecia Lewis's office, a small desk and chair are pushed up against the window and a loveseat is draped in a blanket reading "I Believe in Miracles."

As she (and her lashes) head out for the theater, she said, “I always tell the apartment, ‘Goodbye,’ which is kind of weird,” she conceded. “But I feel like it’s a living space, so I say, ‘Bye, see you tonight. Stay well.’”

Kecia Lewis sits in a corner of her apartment, gazing into the distance.