JOB is a name you know without knowing it: the cigarette papers, the little booklet with the crowned monogram. The company was Perpignan's, and the fortune it made built this, an Art Nouveau headquarters that treated rolling papers as a reason for murals and gilt.
You feel the money the moment you step in. A stairwell that climbs past painted panels and wrought iron under a full ceiling mural, dark wood everywhere, a marble bust set in a niche between two painted maidens. It is a lot, and it is meant to be.
Low interior light again, ISO up into five figures to hold the gilt. The iron grille outside, worked into the JOB monogram under a crown, tells you whose house it is before you knock.