The New Normal
Interior Design After Corona
“To be modern is not a fashion, it is a state. It is necessary to understand history, and he who understands history knows how to find continuity between that which was, that which is, and that which will be” - Le Corbusier
We have repeatedly been told by a seemingly shambolic government that we need to adapt to a “new normal”, of which there is no singular definition and whose parameters seem to change on a weekly, if not daily, basis. During our collective experience of enforced isolation we were told to stay at home, that the enemy was on the streets, in restaurants, cafés and on public transport — ergo our homes were, and are, a safe space from which to retreat from an uncertain and unsettling world. All of us nonessential workers became increasingly aware of how the places in which we live, be that a house or an apartment, help or hinder our daily lives, and most pressingly, the ability to work, home school children, relax and dine. Fortunately, at least for the time being, as offices and shops reopen it takes at least some of the pressure off an increasingly strained program of interior design requirements. Hopefully, so as to avoid complete economic and social meltdown, the world will continue in getting back on track. The question, of course, being asked in every industry is: will things ever go back to the way they were? Within the interiors sector opinion is mixed, some — perhaps those with a more holistic outlook — believe things will improve for the better, whereas others think it’s only a matter of time until the year is forgotten, like a bad dream, and we will all go back to living, and spending, in much the same way as we did before; changing our interiors as new trends and modes of design are pedalled by the media (predictions for 2021 already include dried flowers, winter balconies and sustainable furniture). The latter is, hopefully, not the case, and perhaps inevitably, after such a levelling global crisis, the way we approach design, architecture, and our future requirements will differ. After all, this is nothing new, and for many years there has been an association between modernism and good health.
Paimio Sanatorium (1933) designed by architects Aino and Alvar Aalto
Swimming pool at a private residence, Brussels, designed by Pierre Yovanovitch
In 1933 architects Aino (1894-1949) and Alvar Aalto (1898-1976) completed the Paimio Sanatorium in southwest Finland; the building, rigidly geometric with long, ribbon windows wrapping its elegant elongated façade, has all the hallmarks of what we now think of as modernist architecture. The Aalto’s choice of materials however were based on more than mere aesthetic sensibility — Paimio was conceived to promote recovery from Tuberculosis, one of the early twentieth century’s most pressing health concerns. “The room design is determined by the depleted strength of the patient, reclining in his bed,” Aalto explained. “The colour of the ceiling is chosen for quietness, the light sources are outside of the patient’s field of vision, the heating is oriented toward the patient’s feet.” (Cold feet and a feverish head were seen as a symptomatic of the disease). Similarly sunlight had been proved effective at killing the tuberculosis bacteria, and so with expansive windows and terraces where patients could sleep, the architecture itself became part of the cure. Indeed much of modernist architecture can be seen as a drive to improve living standards; Le Corbusier (1887-1965) used pylons or pillars to lift buildings off the ground, doing away with damp cellars, and at his Villa Müller in Prague Adolf Loos included a space in which to quarantine sick children. The white walls and industrialized austerity of Ludwig Mies van der Rohe (1886-1969) and Eileen Gray (1878-1976) — empty white walls, clean floors and sterile metal fixtures — is that of the hospital, there to demonstrate cleanliness. At a new juncture of disease and architecture, it will be interesting to see how client briefs change and how the design community will respond. Of course it’s not the end of the world (despite the recent U.S. Presidential debate) and we don’t need to overreact, but even if it’s subconscious, people will inevitably take the pandemic into account as they assess their home and design requirements in the future; seeing any new interior we can’t help but think about what it would be like to be imprisoned there for months on end.
Bathroom at a private residence, Brussels, designed by Pierre Yovanovitch
Paimio Sanatorium (1933) designed by architects Aino and Alvar Aalto
The requirements of international clients have always varied somewhat from those of us in Europe; for e.g. requests for delineated areas, or lobbies to entrance halls so as to have a specific space to remove and store outside clothes and shoes and a place to wash your hands (Le Corbusier solved the last problem by installing a freestanding sink in the entryway of his Villa Savoye). In Asia for e.g. this is often the norm, and as we become increasingly concerned with all things hygienic it might be something we start to see more of in the U.K. Similarly, although materials will clearly remain site specific, durable surfaces like limestone, marble and polished plaster might be used with more frequency as they can withstand heavy duty cleaning, and even antimicrobial and easy-to-clean fabrics and materials. There will also, inevitably, be changes in our choice of where to live (U.K. house prices are already rising at the fastest rate since 2016); the recent trend has been for people moving out of the city, for additional space and security, and for locations where there is still a degree of empty green space (of course for those of us who grew up in the countryside the question remains as to how long it will remain a novelty).
In terms of the 0.1%, requirements are a little more extravagant, and the idea of luxury self-sufficiency is on the agenda; cinemas, bars, swimming pools, tennis courts, spas and gyms are now seen as essential, and not merely as token tick box signifiers of wealth. “The diurnal life of spaces is therefore also becoming more prominent, and homeowners have looked to translate some of the wonder of a hospitality environment in the comfort of their homes,” explains Siobhan Kelly, Associate Director at David Collins Studio. “For example the inclusion of a home bar facilitates a transition in atmosphere and use of space tailored to the user; offering the opportunity for a moment of theatre and delight and marking the start of an evening ahead.” A more wholesome requirement has been clients asking for additional space for home schooling or tutoring arrangements (though whether or not this will be a continuing request, or merely a temporary solution, is yet to be seen). Similarly whilst working from home might not be a panacea for everyone, the pandemic has shown us we are as capable of being productive given a conducive environment — this in turn could result a demand for more flexible living space, or even a move away from the recent trend for open plan living.
With this understandable, and for many new found, preoccupation with interiors, it’s quite possible the industry will see a boost. The post-Covid client will be more intimately acquainted with the confines of their homes; the lack of daylight in one room, a tired and impractical kitchen or the need for an extra bathroom. Those annoyances, overlooked for years, will suddenly become unbearable and they’ll be willing to pay a premium to have them put right; indeed a good many firms have already seen an increased interest, and with it, requests for quotations. Of course with forecasts of economic doom and gloom it’s hard to predict how many of these projects will actually materialize, and how many will wait until the world becomes somewhat more settled in economic terms. Undeniably a well-designed interior will serve to positively impact mental well-being and as the pandemic continues to rage around the world, it’s something many are now coming to realize. Living in a beautiful, aesthetically nourishing space, surrounded by carefully considered objects and art is at least one positive when the rest of the world is a closed to us. Unlike the airy emptiness of Bauhaus modernism, Corona-compliant public spaces are primarily defensive, with taped lines, plexiglass screens and prophylactic design — at home we might find ourselves longing for texture, warmth and interiors that speak of an owners personality; not merely what may or may not be in vogue. This is all part and parcel of people looking to make their homes a sanctuary, somewhere to retreat and relax — whether that be enforced or voluntary — and there are cheaper ways to achieve it than by taking a second home in the Cotswolds. Clearing any clutter and unnecessary detritus can go a long way, as can filling a home with objects you love, or that give you happiness, whether that be art, furniture, or simply more family photographs.
For some time there has been an undercurrent of “wellness” rippling through the interiors sector and now, perhaps more so than ever, there’s an increasing awareness of the effect of stress on physical and mental health; the long term impact of quarantine will be a demand for building features that encourage positive behaviours and support a “mind, body, spirit” approach. Outdoor space will clearly be a huge priority, whether that be a balcony, terrace or garden. Similarly, the pandemic has made many people question the provenance of food, and with it the idea of eating organically, growing vegetables or installing a kitchen garden (of course cows do struggle going down stairs and so for those living in a third floor walk-up it’s probably inadvisable to keep one on the balcony — whatever the extent of your Marie-Antoinette milk-maid pastoral fantasies). The pandemic has understandably spurred a feeling of unrest and anxiety amongst consumers, and it’s likely we’ll see a greater use of calm, serene colours and organic textured finishes, that help inspire a sense of reassurance. For city dwellers in particular — especially those of us unable to tack on a terrace and fill it with mature olive trees — there might be a move away from the clean, white anonymity of contemporary minimalist modernism and an increase in biophilic design; hues and materials that mimic the sensation of being in nature. “In many ways the changes being seen in response to the pandemic are an acceleration of trends that already existed,” explains Kelly. “Comfort has become not just to do with the treatment of spaces and the furniture pieces within them, but more encompassing — from the technical performance of smart sanitising technology integrated within joinery, to establishing boundaries with other occupants. Where open plan living was once most desirable, many clients now seek more privacy, with requirements for flexible spaces and to be able to physically separate rooms for specific uses.”
Whilst we might all like to gaze into a crystal ball and see exactly how the future will pan out, the best we can do is prepare; designers thrive in constrained situations and out of adversity might come some truly inspiring and original new work. Much of the wealth — especially that served by the design industry — has not disappeared; most developers will probably see numerous opportunities once the landscape clears of those businesses who didn’t survive (sadly, but inevitably, some of the young brands that have developed in recent years will be eliminated). One key difference is that clients are increasingly concerned by perceived value, and design firms are going to have to justify their worth in a meaningful way. This means unique design led developments, rather than an exercise based purely around profit margins; pricing services should not be determined by industry standard or what the market will bear. Interior design is after all a discretionary item, and something that can very easily be put on hold. As soon as there is some degree of certainty — in this case, most likely, that will be when there’s a viable vaccine — we’ll start to see things return to normal; a lot of purchases that would have been made are still going to happen. Throughout history, interior design has reflected the aspirations and anxieties of the moment. “Each age demands its own form,” architect Hannes Meyer (1889-1954) wrote in his 1926 essay, The New World. “Ideally and in its elementary design our house is a living machine.” Bauhaus modernism, which spread from European sanatoriums to every major city in the world (hence its nom de plume of “International modernism”) became — particularly with the advent and ease of cheap air travel — a symbol of cultural nomadism, for a society who moved around the world with ease, and felt less and less bound to any one place. As travel has been forced to slow, hopefully, so too, has the trend for homogeneity in interiors — especially within the luxury sector — and en masse, we might start see a return to design with intent and ambition.