Refined Living
The Art of Good Design
“The process of gaining awareness [of intimacy] is going throughout a place that is perceived differently by each person. It is probably in this difference that one finds intimacy, the thing linked to oneself. […] [Beauty] can give physical but also temporal form to a place […]. If one finds oneself before a beautiful space, one’s perception, though it might be different for each person, becomes intimate.” — Gae Aulenti
For a good many years now, particularly so within the luxury sector, interior design has been suffering from something of a lack of refinement. Slapping a flat slab of marble on a bathroom wall (even if it is book-matched) is fairly obvious, boring and lacking in any real creativity. Yet, this is the look seen ad-infinitum in the prime residential sector — often poorly laid out and with terrible detailing. The result can feel somewhat dreary, dated and have more in common with gaudy Trump Tower excess than for e.g. the elegant marble clad Art Deco bathrooms of the sort designed by Jean-Michel Frank (1895-1941), Émile-Jacques Ruhlmann (1879-1933) and Piero Portaluppi (1888-1967). Of course, the worst offenders are developers who, with budget in mind, design to a tick box list of what they consider will appease potential buyers: a marble bathroom, countertops, fire surrounds, parquet floors and often an excess of fitted joinery (shelving, bookcase, media units etc.). Whilst there’s nothing necessarily wrong with any of these things they are, done well, inherently expensive and when value engineered to an inch of their lives, or when detailing is left to a contractor, they can end up looking poorly finished and ill-conceived. It’s much like jewellery — an enormous diamond in a clunky setting can appear vulgar; and whilst we might be impressed by the sparkle, it doesn’t necessarily make it any more refined. It brings to mind the now infamous story about Elizabeth Taylor (1932-2011) and Princess Margaret (1930-2002); after Richard Burton (1925-1984) presented Taylor with the 33.19-carat Krupp Diamond, Margaret remarked to a friend that it was “the most vulgar thing I’ve ever seen”. Taylor heard of the slight and not long after, the two women — quite by happenstance — met at a party. Taylor was wearing the diamond and asked Margaret if she would like to try it on. She acquiesced slipped it on her finger. “Doesn’t look so vulgar now, does it?” observed Taylor. Witty yes, and whilst Margaret was a famous snob, was she necessarily wrong? Its akin to interiors that beat you over the head with expense, whilst remaining relatively uninspired and poorly designed.
A bathroom for a private residence in Brussels, designed by Pierre Yovanovitch; where the interior architecture and refined detailing takes precedence
The home of Terry de Gunzburg designed by Jacques Grange, where an extraordinary collection of art and furniture are used in such a way as to form part of a harmonious whole
Indeed it’s all too easy to assume expensive materials and furnishings will equate to an elegant, refined interior, but that’s not necessarily the case. Great designers will use materials in such a way that they become part of the overall intent, for e.g. in the bathroom Pierre Yovanovitch (b. 1965) designed for a private residence in Brussels, one first notices the interior architecture, the detailing of the vanities set into niches and the unusual central banquette; not merely the fact that the room is entirely clad in stone. On a practical note this was a project with an extremely healthy budget and such complex and well realised design wouldn’t translate easily into the majority of projects — even those within the rarefied world of luxury interiors. However, perhaps those working within the sector might consider something radical: an increased focus on design and detailing and the use of materials other than giant stone slabs (which in any event aren’t helping on an environmental level) — whether that be tadelakt, polished plaster or even simple, classic tiling; of course, when looking at the price per sq foot of certain manufactures — Anne Sacks for e.g. — it might be clear why it’s an uphill struggle convincing certain clients to use anything other than marble. As a perfectly illustrative example, in Vincent Van Duysen’s (b. 1962) “C Penthouse” in Antwerp, Belgium, the predominant materials in the beautifully refined and carefully detailed bathroom are wood and micro cement. Indeed Van Duysen is an architect particularly known for his detailing and subtle manipulations of cabinetry that make his projects so instantly recognisable. By no means is this to say stone should never be used, but given the increasing scarcity of certain veins, perhaps a little more thought could be put into the design than a reliance on wall-to-wall slabs, rainfall showers and floating vanity’s — something seen all too often in the prime residential market.
An apartment on Park Avenue designed by Andre Mellone, typical of the studio’s carefully resolved and detailed projects
Another problem of course are clients with unrealistic expectations, or rather, budgets that don’t allow for those expectations. Quite simply the details are what make an interior, and it’s often those details that eat up a budget (and good taps, hinges and hardware etc. can be extremely expensive), but cutting them in order to achieve a vague approximation of an interior that clearly had a far higher budget often results in something bland and lacklustre. It requires a degree of tact and diplomacy to tell a client their budget is too small, but it’s often worth it if the result is a more realistic and better designed end product. The paradigm example has to be Andrée Putman’s dealings with Ian Schrager and Steve Rubell (the New York entrepreneurs behind Studio 54), who, in 1981 emerged from a 13-month jail term for tax evasion, having thought up a new concept: the boutique hotel. Having secured enough financial backing to buy the Executive Hotel, a dowdy brick building at 237 Madison Avenue, they approached Putman with a simple query: “We’ve heard you can design bathrooms without using any marble.” Her reply was blunt. “There won’t be any marble in your hotel. I see it as somewhere simultaneously austere and elegant, with a few whimsical touches. Your budget is totally unrealistic. We’ll have to choose the least expensive stoneware tiles, but avoid pink.” By chance, the tiles she favoured were available in black and white, enabling her to create a checkerboard pattern that would become her trademark. “Not using colour broke the rules of luxury hotels,” she explained. These now iconic bathrooms are much admired and have been much imitated; they’re still as relevant today as they were back then and often appear on mood boards — whereas another bland identikit marble clad luxury bathroom with “too much Louis and too many flowers,” to quote Putman, would inevitably have been long forgotten.
The Oxford English Dictionary defines refinement as “a small change to something that improves it”, and therefore there’s clearly an overlap with originality and creativity in design. Arguably the three are inseparable as for a designer to refine anything from the use of a material, to the design of a vanity or an architectural element such as a staircase, they have to have real talent; one frequently sees examples whereby an existing item of furniture, the design of a fireplace, or even the bones of a room, are butchered and distorted to the extent that the resulting design is lacking any of the flair or refinement of the original. Again, at risk of sounding like a broken record, this comes back to the problem of imitation or rather, trying to copy an existing interior without the budget. This extends not only to the overall design, but for e.g. those smaller necessities like handles — which can be extremely expensive; if Van Cronenburg (possibly the peak of architectural hardware) isn’t in budget, then look for something entirely different and don’t try and do it on the cheap. The same can be said for paint, fabric, flooring, fixtures, fittings and furniture; a poor approximation will look just that, it makes far more sense to investigate what options are within budget and to go for honesty and integrity over a cut price design statement. This is very much where the skill and creativity of a designer comes into play, as those with a trained eye, good taste and experience within the industry will be able to offer a client with expectations that might be somewhat unrealistic a workable, desirable alternative — similarly a seasoned and talented professional will not take umbrage at a client rejecting a design; but rather, they will work with them so as to reach an outcome that reflects the designers aesthetic, whilst also taking full account of the clients requirements and tastes (that is of course excluding those grandees of design who have been known to give a client short shrift if they fail to reach a requisite simpatico — “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”).
“C Penthouse”, Antwerp, Belgium, designed by Vincent Van Duysen; demonstrating the architects mastery of materials and subtle detailing
Essentially, at least to some extent, the concept of a refined interior is very much tied up with a designers sensibility and appreciation of materials and those details that make an interior sing; much like fashion, those who do not see that something inherently expensive might not necessarily be the best choice will never truly understand how to elevate an interior to something that transcends the financial sum of its parts. Those that genuinely understand design are those that can work within a budget, using the best materials available so as to make the most of an interior without trying to fake it. Whilst the result might not be the most “instagramable”, eye-catching or editorial; more likely than not it will stand the test of time and have real substance (and by no means does it have to be boring). This is equally applicable to those projects with extremely large budgets, where a client has an existing collection of art and antiques, or where they are willing to build such a collection anew; even when designing for the 0.1% its remarkable how much of a budget can be taken up by infrastructure and servicing (or even placating wealthy and litigious neighbours), and so again, it’s necessary that a designer keep a careful eye on the budget and detailing (many a luxury interior is blighted by badly positioned and unnecessarily large vents for e.g) making the most of every penny so as to achieve a truly refined whole. At this rarefied stratosphere of design the work of Jacques Grange immediately springs to mind as an example of doing things well; whilst those with modicum of design knowledge will appreciate, Grange has a tendency to furnish his interiors with a jaw dropping array of furniture and art from the very best makers, galleries and designers — yet, nothing shouts, nothing screams and every piece is part of a harmonious whole. One doesn’t focus on the expense involved, but on the mastery with which an often eclectic array of objects have been combined so as to create an interior with atmosphere and integrity. It’s about time there was a greater focus on designing for the long run, and not with the sole intention of setting trends or shouting for attention; creating interiors that are built to last, that can be added to and improved over time — not merely gutted and started afresh with every new owner. The problem with “trends” is that people tend to get bored of them quickly — whereas the classics will always remain desirable.