History, Originality, Atmosphere

Design Principles

“Most of the houses I came to admire were owned by people in the creative fields, and they were done by the owners without third parties involved. They were, of course, a reflection of their owners’ income, but more importantly. they were a reflection of their owners’ private selves regardless of their wherewithal.” — Miguel Flores-Vianna

It would be foolish to try and dictate what exactly “good design” should be as it’s something incredibly personal to each and every one of us. There are of course those grandees of design, the likes of Madeleine Castaing (1894-1992), François Catroux (1936-2020), Jacques Grange (b. 1944) and Peter Marino (b. 1949), who are acknowledged as having contributed to the canon of interior design by creating interiors that are universally admired for their elegance and audacity. Moving away from the thorny issue of taste, there are certain principles that any designer should take into consideration, those being: history, originality and atmosphere. The majority of those unique talents that stand out from the crowd have an understanding and appreciation of the history of design, and how architecture and interiors developed over time, for e.g. in the twentieth century, the way in which Art Deco led to Modernism, Post-Modernism, Minimalism and so on. This understanding of periods and styles leads to informed choices, consistency and an overall refinement that is as relevant when working within the confines of an historic interior as it is to something wholly contemporary. As Picasso (1881-1973) said “Learn the rules like a pro, so you can break them like an artist”. This is something equally applicable, if not more so, to interiors and architecture — as those who understand the principles of deign are better able to interpret them in new ways.

The little known designer Isabelle Hebey (1935-1996) if often credited with curing the French of their penchant for period pastiche, yet that didn’t mean throwing history out of the widow: “For me”, Hebey said in 1968, “nothing compares to a piece of Boulle furniture placed before a wall clad in steel”. She was followed by Andrée Putman (1925-2013), Christian Liaigre (1942-2020) Philippe Starck (b. 1949) et al who took the lessons of the past and reinterpreted them (sometimes directly as with Starck’s now iconic Louis Ghost Chair) for modern living, whilst at the same time, remaining utterly modern. Clearly history and originality go hand in hand, the proverbial godfather of which might be Jean-Michel Frank (1895-1941) whose designs for the Rockefeller apartment at 810 Fifth Avenue — a reinterpretation of the classical style of Louis XV — were nothing short of genius. On that note, often such a reverence for the past is somewhat more oblique, for e.g. Jean Royère’s (1902-1981) use of traditional artisanal wood-bending techniques (similar to those used in Louis XVI sofas) employed in the construction his now iconic Ours Polaire (or “polar bear”) sofas. Atmosphere is of course more difficult to pin down, it’s somewhat more of an ethereal concept, related to the overall feeling a place conveys; the work of Axel Vervoordt (b. 1947) is perhaps the pre-eminent contemporary illustration of a seemingly innate ability to conjure up atmosphere in abundance — with the interiors of his much photographed twelfth-century Kasteel van ‘s-Gravenwezel veritably straining under the weight of carefully curated art and antiques, each room offering its own unique mise en scene.

An interior by Arthur Elrod in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, image c/o Vendome

An interior by Arthur Elrod in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, image c/o Vendome

An duplex on New York’s Upper East Side designed by Robert Stilin, image c/o Vendome

An duplex on New York’s Upper East Side designed by Robert Stilin, image c/o Vendome

As a result of the internet we have more information at our fingertips than any generation before us; and that allows access to reams of information on the history of design and interiors. On the flipside it can sometimes feel somewhat overwhelming — akin to looking for a needle in a haystack — especially if one does not know where to begin or what exactly to look for. Indeed when faced with such torrents of information, print books are often a great place to start; and for a helpful overview one might look to Inspired Design: The 100 Most Important Interior Designers of the Past 100 Years (Vendome, 2018). Whilst some of my personal favourites are excluded (Royère and Charlotte Perriand (1903-1999) spring immediately to mind as an unexpected and surprising omissions), the list was essentially compiled, at least in part, as a result of crowdsourcing: asking those on various social media platforms, such as Instagram and Facebook who they thought were the most important designers of the century — the votes were then tallied and taken into account as a means of whittling down the top 100. For those with an aversion to such egalitarian tactics, it shouldn’t necessarily be seen as a negative, and regardless of personal preference (playing favourites is never a helpful pastime, when dealing with either children or decorators) this is an incredibly useful resource for young designers who might want a better understanding of those who, for better or worse, have shaped the course of design. It includes not only those names widely discussed and regularly referenced, who entirely changed the way we think about interiors, for e.g. Billy Baldwin Jr. (1903-1983) and Albert Hadley (1920-2012), but also those designers lost in the mists of time; the likes of Basil Ionides (1884-1950), who, in the 1920s, was an important colour theorist and Kalef Alaton (1940-1989), whose work is still frequently referenced today — and in particular, his unique vocabulary of modern upholstery, European style and ancient artefacts. More than a mere run of the mill coffee table book, Jennifer Boles and Stephen Drucker tell the story of interior design, from those who bridged the gap between tradition and twentieth century modernism, to those who were entirely ahead of the pack (such as Frances Elkins (1888-1953), avant-garde decorator and arbiter of taste) — whose work was wholly radical and set new precedents for the future of design.

An interior by Axel Vervoordt, Antwerp, Belgium, image c/o Vendome

An interior by Axel Vervoordt, Antwerp, Belgium, image c/o Vendome

The home of Alessandro Twombly, Lazio, Italy, image c/o Vendome

The home of Alessandro Twombly, Lazio, Italy, image c/o Vendome

For much of the twentieth century the concept of interior design, particularly so amongst the higher echelons, was synonymous with originality. Paris was, undoubtedly, the world leader and styles varied wildly, from the sober, refined, neo-traditionalism of Maison Jansen (the first truly global design firm) to Royère’s whimsical concoctions, distinguished by their exuberance and whimsy, to the austere rational modernism of Le Corbusier (1887-1965). (That’s not forgetting the brilliance of British designers like Sibyl Colefax (1874-1950) and David Hicks (1929-1998)). The thread that binds them is their ability to reinvent and unify the most varied and diverse stylistic approaches, combining different aesthetic references — often unexpectedly — so as to create a style that was unmistakably their own. There was no singular mode of thought, and the wealthy patrons who commissioned such designers were keen to make a statement. After a century of such unrelenting development and constant growth (at least in part spurred on by the arrival of entirely new materials and processes), true originality, in a very literal sense, is often now hard to come by; but nevertheless, we should champion and celebrate those designers with real talent, who take the lessons of the past and build on them to create contemporary interiors with integrity and gravitas.

There are a number of designers that stand out as taking a fresh approach to interiors, and amongst them is New York based Robert Stilin, whose recent monograph (Vendome, 2019) features fifteen of his best works, which range from a 1920s mock-Tudor house in Louisville, Kentucky, to a rambling 1980s Hampton’s beach house. Stilin’s work is not only immaculately detailed and conceived but the designer has a seemingly innate ability to create spaces that are at once casual and relaxed, yet elegant and sophisticated. One signifying feature, consistent throughout each project, is pared back, pragmatic architecture, combined with a carefully curated amalgam of antiques, mid-century furniture and an abundance of modern and contemporary art (a personal favourite is a tony duplex on New York’s Upper East Side, where, in the sitting room, an octagonal mirror by Max Ingrand (1908-1969) hangs above an Émile-Jacques Ruhlmann (1879-1933) mantelpiece). Without the need for a complete refurbishment, one can readily take inspiration from Stilin’s deftly layered, art-centric interiors — designed for comfort, and not merely as a show piece — which are the perfect illustration of how one can unabashedly mix styles and genres of furniture and art in a way that feels entirely of our age.

Style is of course not all about spending vast amounts of money, something often misunderstood by the luxury sector, and especially by developers, who are often more concerned about a tick box list of criteria than design integrity. The very best interior designers are able to create an atmosphere, an overall feeling of coherence and unity, that certain special something that is in actuality artistry. It comes, at least in part, from an inherent understanding of scale and proportion, but also from a learned understanding of design, the nuances of period and stylistic details, and how to manipulate them so as to achieve a contemporary interior whilst loosing none of their charm and subtlety. Of those included in his book Haute Bohemians (Vendome, 2017) — writers, artists, antique dealers and artisans spanning four continents — photographer Miguel Flores-Vianna explains, “These are the people who collect items not because of their monetary value, but because of how they make them feel.” What’s particularly wonderful is that it’s gritty and entirely un-staged — these interiors show signs of life, and of the people who inhabit them, for e.g. in the home of artist Alessandro Twombly, a farm in the hills of Lazio, Italy, one sees his studio strewn with paints and brushes. Similarly in the home of Joseph Achkar and Michel Charriere, the historic Hôtel de Gesvres, Paris, tattered silk walls and an abundance of objet d’art, cluttering almost every surface (albeit deliberate and curated), all add to the charm.

Flores-Vianna has an artist’s eye and the incredibly rare ability to intuit the soul of an interior, capturing images that are windows onto other worlds. It’s personality that gives an interior atmosphere and, in recent years, what seems to be a societal quest for perfection is having an incredibly negative impact on design; the issue being, that everything starts to look the same — whether that be architecture, interiors or FF & E. There are of course those designers who tread their own path, for which they are rightly celebrated, Atelier AM and Pierre Yovanovitch (b. 1965) for e.g., and this should be the focus of those publishing behemoths, not merely celebrity interiors that have been airbrushed and edited into something approaching an architectural rendering. Flores-Vianna shows us that in order to create a truly remarkable interior, something that is not merely demonstrative of wealth, or a trophy house, it must first and foremost reflect an owners personality; their likes, loves, desires and, ultimately, how they see themselves.

Ben Weaver

Benjamin Weaver