God Is in the Details
Luxury Interiors
“The essence of interior design will always be about people and how they live. It is about the realities of what makes for an attractive, civilized, meaningful environment, not about fashion or what’s in or what’s out. This is not an easy job.” — Albert Hadley
Luxury is defined as “great comfort, especially as provided by expensive and beautiful things”. Of course, that’s open to a very wide interpretation and different people have extremely different views as to what constitutes luxury. Perceptions of luxury vary widely, and are dependent on an inordinate number of factors, from nationality, to background and even occupation (the homes of Architect’s for eg are notoriously the hardest to sell, as the majority populace tend to see them as somewhat cold and sterile). There is no one concept of what constitutes luxury, or, for that matter, luxury interiors. Currently, however, within the interior design sector, there is, it seems, a relatively wide ranging consensus on “luxury” that is something of a hangover from the turn of the century. Interestingly, either one of the last two centuries is just for comparison; circa 1900, the haute bourgeois were keen to signal their social standing with interiors groaning under the weight of overly embellished Victorian excess. By 1920 however, there was a seismic shift in style to the Art Deco, with the work of Émile-Jacques Ruhlmann (1879-1933), Jean-Michel Frank (1895-1941) and Eileen Gray (1878-1976), which — partially as a result of socio-economic concerns — became ever simpler and ever more streamlined until the overt modernism of Le Corbusier (1887-1965) and Charlotte Perriand (1903-1999). Circa 2000 we saw heavily embellished hi-gloss, marble clad interiors that are, unfortunately, still with us, and as yet, there has been nothing of the radical change of approach seen in the epic avant-garde of the early twentieth century. A good many creative directors and directors were trained and promoted during this period and are hung up on to this tired, outdated idea of luxury. This is to an extent setting the profession back, and preventing those designers working under them, who might have a more nuanced contemporary approach, from contributing anything more than a regurgitation of house style. The definition of luxury has come to prioritize “expensive”, in the sense of an interiors looking expensive, over comfort and beauty. There is an unnecessary vulgarity to this approach, whereby subtle artisanal skill and craftsmanship is often overlooked in favour of brash shiny surfaces and tick box estate agent criteria. “Vulgarity” to quote Coco Chanel, “is the ugliest word in our language, and I stay in the game to fight it.”
The home of Irish architect and interior designer David Collins, London, with one of his much copied signature fireplaces
A dramatic four poster canopy bed forms the focal point of a French bedroom designed by David Hicks, upholstered in one of the designers characteristic graphic prints
One key difference between the last two centuries is that for much of the twentieth, luxury was also largely synonymous with originality. Paris was undoubtedly the world leader in interior design and styles varied wildly, from the sober, refined, neo-traditionalism of Maison Jansen (the first truly global design firm) to the overtly modernist designs of Isabelle Hebey (1935-1996), who cured the French of their penchant for period pastiche, to Jean Royère’s (1902-1981) whimsical concoctions, distinguished by their exuberance and audacity, that serve as a source of constant inspiration and admiration to this day. That’s not forgetting the brilliant British designer David Hicks (1929-1998), whose graphic patterns and vibrant palette reflect a wonderfully independent creative flair. The thread that binds them all together is the ability of those designers 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 modernist designs were keen to make a statement. The idea of luxury is clearly a very individual concept, but it should be the job of a designer to carefully foster a relationship of trust, and an inextricable part of that process is to open a client’s eyes to options they might not have previously considered. Whilst a client’s happiness is tantamount, a skilled designer is able to offer alternatives and to educate. A successful contemporary interior should, after all, be based on cultural and historical awareness, as well as an understanding of stylistic traditions. The ability to tell a client they are wrong, without causing offence, requires a certain degree of tact, pragmatism and subtlety — a particular skill-set that distinguishes the good from the great. Of course some of the grandes dames of interior design have been known to terminate a client relationship where the necessary degree of mutual simpatico is irreparably lacking. “First of all, I need to get a sense of where I am, then who owns the space,” Florentine architect and interior designer Michele Bonan has said of his working process. “If I don’t like it, I won’t accept the job.”
The light-filled lounge at the J.K. Place Roma designed by Michele Bonan, reflecting the designers unique appreciation of place and context, photograph by Massimo Listri
Andrée Putman (1925-2013), or la reine du damier, had an outlook of “radical simplicity”, that during the late 1980s and early ‘90s became a byword for French chic; paving the way for other designers to use modern and minimalist features in historic settings. Her interiors, pared back and elegant, are sophisticated rather than luxurious in the traditional sense of the word. “Style and money have nothing to do with each other,” she once mused on the concept of luxury. “Good design is pure and simple, and I am interested in that family of things that will never date.” Her work on Morgans, New York, the first boutique hotel, was the epitome of Putman’s particular brand of laid-back sober elegance. When it opened in 1984 it was both a critical and popular hit, and within weeks, celebrities were flocking to the small, gray-toned rooms. Yet the bathrooms were clad in a black and white checkerboard of “the least expensive stoneware tiles” — stylish and sophisticated, typical Putman, but far removed from the then consensus idea of a grand-hotel bathroom. In the era of ultimate excess, Putman managed to redefine and change people’s perception of what luxury should be.
That is precisely the power of great design, as true originality can trump any level of material cost when it comes to creating desirable interiors. This approach should be the template for moving interiors forward, and shifting focus to a design led approach where the emphasis is on quality and originality, and not merely on something that looks obviously expensive. That’s not to say every interior, both private and commercial, should be a barren landscape of Venetian plaster, sisal matting and neutral hues. Exuberance and frivolity often make for wonderful, escapist interiors, for example Martin Brudnizki’s (b. 1967) whimsical refurbishment of Annabel’s nightclub; a fanciful concoction of gilded de Gournay wallcoverings, pink onyx, bronze palm-trees and floor-to-ceiling chandeliers. Similarly, Kelly Wearstler (b. 1967), who helped reinvent modern American design, has a unique ability for combining multiple patterns, prints, and an often eclectic collection of furniture and art, so as to produce a coherent and unified whole, that is both wholly original and unique. Luxury should not be thought of in terms of expense, but in terms of quality of life, pushing the boundaries of every small detail, from the initial plan, to choice of materials and ensuring the highest possible level of craftsmanship. “The details are the details. They make the product. The connections,” explains architect Charles Eames (1907-1978). “It will, in the end, be these details that give the product its life.”
It would be unwise, if not reductive, to attempt any singular definition of what luxury should be. It is, after all, an incredibly personal concept, and the idea of “life’s little luxuries” means different things to different people. In recent years there has been something of shift away from the house merely as a status symbol, and clients are becoming increasingly focused on their own personal experience. The roll of a designer is to set a client on the right track, and that should mean moving away from gaudy Trump Tower tack and towards thoughtful, considered design that takes account of lifestyle and interests: creating a Wunderkammer, or cabinet of curiosities, reflecting the personalities of those who will eventually inhabit the space. Identikit PrimeResi interiors — polished marble floors and fire surrounds lifted from those early works of architect and interior designer David Collins (1955-2013) — will no longer cut the mustard; the focus should be on timeless style and comfort, with an emphasis on materially and craftsmanship, and curating objects that have a personal meaning attached to them. Technology is also an increasingly important consideration in the sphere of luxury interior design, both in terms of environmental factors, such as air filtration systems, as well as health and fitness; with the incorporation of wellness subscriptions, for eg Peloton and Nordick Track (something sure to gain even greater momentum post-pandemic lockdown).
The home of interior designer Kelly Wearstler, Beverley Hills, with its intricate neoclassical moldings offset by a typically eclectic collection of furniture and art
Increasingly the idea of luxury is being thought of as part and parcel of creating and curating a unique collection and investing in art and classic design — sourcing from independent dealers and galleries, rather than relying solely on contemporary manufacturers — which feeds into the idea of building an interior gradually over time. Design firms need to respond in respect of educating themselves better on art and design history so as to fully understand a client’s wants and needs; thus approaching the idea of luxury with a greater level of sophistication. From a projects inception, careful consideration should be given to a client’s existing collection, or, to the idea of working with a specialist consultant so as to fully incorporate and integrate art, with careful consideration given to placement and lighting schemes, rather than thinking of it merely as a decorative afterthought. In terms of furniture, Designers like François Catroux will often lend clients “space fillers” from their own collection, for eg a table or commode, until the right piece becomes available, which might sometimes take years.
This sort of ongoing client relationship is typically something a good many firms ignore, in favour of signing off a design package and effectively cutting ties upon completion. This is also relevant to the distinction which is frequently made between “luxury” and “high end”, and is particularly apropos in terms of the prime residential sector. Developers for eg will often talk about interiors looking sufficiently “high end” as a byword for luxury; whereas in actuality, it’s merely part and parcel of achieving a desired asking price, and might mean very little to the end user in terms of quality. It’s this unhelpful mode of thinking that results in the plethora of identikit interiors throughout London’s most desirable postcodes — fitted with the expectation a buyer will, in any event, want to start again from scratch.
With regards private residential, at least, there needs to be a concerted shift away from bland, homogeneous interiors and towards client-led, client-driven design; where the impetus is on the provision of a true bespoke service, and design intent stems from the individual taste of the homeowner, the spirit of the place, its history and socio-cultural background; not merely on delivering a repetition of “house style”, regardless of context or brief. Interiors should be designed to be in keeping with the times, so as to be compatible with changing attitudes and lifestyles, but also timeless. A good designer should not impose style; they should work closely with a client so as to achieve the very best outcome, based on a relationship of mutual trust and understanding. Luxury is more than bricks and mortar, it’s the ability to design the atmosphere, identifying the crux of an environment, whilst drawing inspiration from context — the whole reinforced by an often imperceptible number of subtle, discreet details that work together so as to co-exist in perfect harmony. When designing luxury interiors, regardless of style, a designer should have one key word in mind: quality. In the prophetic words of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, “God is in the details.”