Reverence for the Past
Victor Bonnivard
“I’m Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde from a creative point of view. I’ve always had this duality of modernity and history. It’s not worth asking me to do something basic, like everyone else. Ask someone else, I’m not interested. Ask me if you want something a bit extravagant, out of the ordinary, like nothing else!” — Jacques Garcia
Going by Instagram at least, it seems the majority of those working in the worlds of art and design spent the entire month of August in Italy, Greece and the South of France. Inevitably, during that time, there have been those who have paid pilgrimage to those iconic twentieth-century locations, such as La Colombe d’Or, Fondation Maeght, Villa Kerylos and Le Sirenuse that have inspired and beguiled for generations. Such locations are so seductive and all-encompassing in their overall aesthetic that they continue to have a deep, visceral impact on generation after generation of designers, architects and decorators looking for inspiration and aesthetic nourishment under the warm glow of the Mediterranean sun. This is of course part and parcel of the mid-century trend that over past decades has swept through the interiors industry like wild-fire, resulting in the work of certain avant-garde greats, for example, Charlotte Perriand (1902-1999), Pierre Jeanneret (1896-1967) and Serge Mouille (1922-1988) being seen ad infinitum to the extent that a good many of us have now grown tired of seeing the same “Tabouret” stools, cane back “Office” chairs and “Spider” ceiling lights in every other interior (let’s not forget Sottsass’ neon-pink “Ultrafragola” mirror, which now has the dubious honour of making any room look as if it’s been styled by an intern). That’s not to say “retro” can’t ever be done well, as seen in the work of nineteen-seventies-Italian inspired Dimore Studio, whose moodily glamorous spaces, accented in smoked glass and brass, feel as if Gabriella Crespi (1922-2017) and Mina Mazzini (b. 1940) should be sitting in a corner smoking Vogue SuperSlims and bitching about Serge Gainsbourg (1928-1991). Similarly, Julien Desselle’s carefully curated stable of young and up-and-coming designers, the likes of Jaune, Halleroed and Charlotte de Tonnac and Hugo Sauzay of Festen Architecture are able to create interiors with a twentieth-century flavour that, importantly, don’t feel like pastiche, or for that matter, recycle the same Pinterest references seen used over and over by those with a less nuanced (or non-existent) art-historical understanding. In the case of the latter, Château Voltaire on Paris’s Rue St. Roch, despite its location next to a busy road, has proved to be the go-to for those working in the creative industries (who don’t necessarily want to break the bank at The Ritz or Plaza Athénée) in large part down to its David Lynch-esque interiors, with their nineteen-forties style carpets, coffered ceilings and slip-covered sofas, which are neither old fashioned nor trendy. The key perhaps is that nothing is a direct copy or immediately identifiable as being by the hand of a “named” designer (e.g. Le Corbusier, Royère, Eames et al) — rather Festen’s interiors evoke an era and create an atmosphere without placing an over-reliance on “bells and whistles” in order to carry the scheme. That’s not to say designers shouldn’t use vintage furnishings or accessories, or, for that matter, draw inspiration from them; for example, the arts and crafts style wall lights at Château Voltaire were inspired by an original sourced by De Tonnac and Sauzay at the Saint Ouen flea market. The key is to combine furniture, art and objets d’art in a way that feels coherent and speaks of a designer’s own ethos and individual aesthetic which, of course, is a skill in itself.
Paris-based interior architect Victor Bonnivard, at the Belgrand Hotel on the Champs-Elysées, Paris, photograph by Victor Stonem
The bar at the Belgrand Hotel on the Champs-Elysées, Paris, designed by Victor Bonnivard, photograph by Victor Stonem
Similarly, at Pied-A-Terre Paris co-founders Andrea Bokobsa (b. 1991) and Nathaniel Glas (b. 1983) have taken advantage of the trend for all things vintage, whilst at the same time ensuring their luxury “residences” remain very much of the twenty-first century, steering well clear of the sort of stale pastiche and “Insta-trendy” design pieces seen on media rotation. “We don’t believe we should be dictating what your stay with us looks or feels like,” explains Bokobsa, “and by creating a certain sense of distance we leave it to our guests to experience and enjoy the space for themselves.” The Pied A Terre Tuileries residence for example, with interiors by Paris-based design duo Charlotte Albert and Alexis Lamesta of Necchi Architecture, is a tribute to Andrée Putman’s (1925-2013) immediately identifiable “paw”, to employ the French terminology — as evidenced in the black and white tiled bathrooms, with their monochromatic checkerboard motif and use of brushed stainless steel throughout. Interestingly, in terms of hospitality, Putman thought traditional palace hotels vulgar, with “too much Louis and too many flowers” (though this was in the aftermath of the shoestring budget she had to work with in decorating the soon-to-be iconic Morgans Hotel), and its perhaps worth keeping in mind, that when approaching contemporary interiors, veering too far into what is essentially a recreation of any period style, whether it be eighteenth, nineteenth or twentieth century can very quickly feel stale and uninspired. Indeed even within the realms of traditional decor, designers such as Billy Baldwin (1903-1983), David Hicks (1929-1998) and John Fowler (1906-1977) had the ability to create considered, well-proportioned interiors that were carefully-researched and masterfully curated, whilst unmistakably of their era. They paid referential homage to the past, in respect of stylistic detailing, colour choices and fabrics, and to those grandees that defined generations, but were by no means a prisoner to it, and appreciated the importance of moving with the times and ensuring the day to day mundanities of contemporary life were catered to in terms of programmatic practicalities. Of course, such an approach relies far more heavily on innate design, as opposed to mere “styling” ability, and were it employed en masse, it would, no doubt, very quickly separate the wheat from the chaff apropos those who have a genuine talent for architectural and interior design, and those who can merely curate. After all, if one shops entirely at Loro Piana or The Row, one will, for the most part, look elegant and put together, and similarly, those designers with recourse to galleries such as Jacques Lacoste and Laffanour won’t go far wrong putting an artfully curated selection of blue-chip furniture in a gallery like room, with a boxed out white fireplace and wooden floors. With a view to those young designers who are looking further afield for references, we spoke to interior architect Victor Bonnivard who designed the recently opened Belgrand Hotel on the Champs-Elysées, which again, has a distinctly retro flair, about his passion for largely “unfashionable” nineteenth-century art and design, and how he’s able to combine it with twentieth-century French style so as to create a new/old aesthetic all of his own.
A room at the Belgrand Hotel on the Champs-Elysées, Paris, designed by Victor Bonnivard, photograph by Victor Stonem
What was it that initially drew you to a career in design?
My father was an architect, and so I grew up surrounded by books on Neoclassical and Postmodern architecture. I remember running around the agency as a child, seeing people creating and drawing. At the time a lot of work was done on paper it was very impressive. At a young age, my father showed me buildings that he had drawn. I think that’s what most appealed to me. He was born just after the Second World War and so a little older than other parents of my generation, and still had a Beaux-Arts education; meaning that he’d learned to draw nudes and studied antique architecture. At the beginning of his career in the late nineteen-seventies, this undoubtedly influenced his stylistic approach, which was Postmodern, as opposed to modern. Even when designing projects for social housing he would still incorporate, for example, concrete columns and a pediment. I believe I inherited part of that vision. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Stylistically speaking, what would you say defines your approach to interiors?
At first, I try my best to understand the place I’m working with. Indeed, I feel that too many interiors are either too rich or disconnected from the scene, the history, or the architecture of the building. Then I go on the feelings given by the materials, the fabrics and the furniture to build a coherent space around them. I need to know what will be in the scene to make the best architectural choices possible.
There’s an increasing focus on interiors being designed so as to be “Instagrammable”, in the sense of them being bold, eye-catching and editorial. In your opinion, in today’s design world, and moving forward, is there still a place for quiet, refined interiors, that don’t necessarily scream and shout?
It is indeed a trend that we, as architects and designers, must deal with. Moreover, social media, such as Instagram, is also a means of visibility which is a critical factor for our careers. However, from what I’ve seen there’s a clear distinction between personal and commercial projects. In a private project, the emphasis is more on an intimate, singular, personal feeling; a sense of home. In a commercial project such as the Belgrand hotel, the “instagramability” of the project is a key factor in its success. The targeted clientele being international, and the trend being to make a booking decision based upon imagery, the interiors have to act as an impactful incentive. However, there is of course no set rule, and such approaches are to be blurred depending on the project; commercial projects can embrace singularity and personal ones can, no doubt, embrace “instagrammability.”
The “Sleeping Beauty” chair, (1919) by Paul Follot, with upholstery “illustrated” by furniture painter Jean Veber based on the fairy tale “La Belle au Bois-dormant” © Isabelle Bideau/Mobilier national.
There’s a certain vintage or retro feel to the interiors you designed for the recently opened Le Belgrand Hotel on the Champs-Elysées in Paris; but would you say that’s something that defines your aesthetic or was it purely a site-specific response?
It’s a specific response, just like any project I work on. The Belgrand was the hotel in which Alain Delon (b. 1935) and Romy Schneider (1938-1982) stayed when they were young actors and being so close to the Champs-Élysées I built the project around the idea of recreating a nineteen-seventies Parisian lifestyle. However, like any project, there’s a personal touch, a glimpse of my own sensibility, and here, I feel that my passion for nineteenth-century art and architecture shines through in some of the details.
Fashion and interiors have in recent years become increasingly intertwined, with twentieth-century furniture, in particular, becoming as much a status symbol as a Cartier watch or an Hermès Birkin — as evidenced by the slew of recent auction records for works by the likes of Royère, Giacometti and Jean-Michel Frank. On that basis, how important is it, if at all, that interiors are trend-driven, and is it something, from your experience, especially having worked in the hospitality sector, that’s important to clients?
Design history is complex, and few people have the will to go beyond famous names. For instance, if Pierre Paulin’s (1927-2009) creations are well known, Olivier Mourgue (b. 1939) and Bernard Govin’s (b. 1940) are perceived as “niche” even though they all explored the same possibilities brought by foam and stretch fabrics. In the hospitality sector, especially knowing that the goal is to offer a home away from home, it’s important to allow individuals to recognize familiar design codes. Nevertheless, pieces are not bound to be from the more famous creator — the idea being to convey the atmosphere, and to give the sense of a landmark destination.
In terms of the decorative arts, what would you our particular area of interest or expertise?
I’m thoroughly familiar with twentieth-century designers and creators, but above all, I’m interested in older styles. It takes a lot of time to understand, so as to be able to select art pieces. My favourite period is eighteen-thirty to fifty, in part, because it’s been overlooked, and there are still a lot of things to be discovered. In this respect, I think that I’m perhaps something of an exception in a field mostly interested and influenced by the period between nineteen-twenty-five to nineteen-ninety.
The painting by contemporary artist François Malingrëy, depicting a group of men standing on a beach, that hangs in Victor Bonnivard’s dining room in Paris © François Malingrëy
The facade of the Belgrand Hotel on the Champs-Elysées, Paris, designed by Victor Bonnivard, photograph by Victor Stonem
Despite your passion for nineteenth century design, are there any twentieth-century designers you admire?
Jean-Michel Frank (1845-1941). I love his work for its ability to synthesize the so-called style Français, skinned, stripped down but still exhaustive; the setup is almost eighteenth-century-like. His interiors have a metaphysical sense to them, in that they talk to us, the viewer, and it’s in this dialogue that the work transcends the simple furnishings or layout of a space.
Who would be your ideal client and why?
There’s no such thing as a perfect client, given every individual is different. The key point being, a relation of trust based on dialogue.
In an ever-changing world, what would you say is the biggest problem facing today’s designers, and indeed for that matter, the industry en masse?
In my opinion, rather than a problem, it’s more of a revamping. There was a time when the career of a successful designer could be assessed by the ability to create mass-produced objects. With today’s concerns regarding ecology, overconsumption, and an ever-growing need for singularity and personalization, the cards have been extensively redistributed. To me the real ecology is not necessarily to buy locally. When one buys a product, the ecological approach is consider a product’s lifetime. That’s where the relationship with it becomes important. The question is not one of price; it could be a teapot made by a contemporary artisan producer, or one acquired at auction, made two centuries ago — either way, it will be something I want to use for the rest of my life, and even pass on to my children; rather than buying from a local shop when it will simply be thrown out in favour of something new.
What’s your favourite work of design?
The “Sleeping Beauty” chair, created in 1919 by Paul Follot (1977-1941), with upholstery “illustrated” by furniture painter Jean Veber (1864-1928) based on the fairy tale “La Belle au Bois-dormant” — it’s the hinge of classical conception and modernity. The fabric panels are very poetic, not soft — and as always with Veber’s work, it’s deeper than it seems at first sight.
What was the first important piece of art (or design) you ever owned?
A painting by contemporary artist François Malingrëy (b. 1989). It depicts a group of men standing on a beach. I remember taking my first loan to acquire it! It now hangs in my dining room and will not move. I really love this piece — I bought it from two young art dealers at the T&L Galerie. Right away I fell under its strength; the composition resonated with me as a mix between Goya (1746-1828) and Hippolyte Flandrin (1809-1864). I’ve always preferred figurative to abstract paintings — something about the human figure speaks to me.
Which artists would you collect if you could?
Works by Charles Marie Bouton (1781-1853), François-Joseph Kinson (1770-1839) and Georges François Blondel (1730-1791). I know it might seem old-fashioned, but I truly love romantic paintings. In particular, I love Bouton’s church ruins, such as Gothic Chapel, on display at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.
An object you would never part with?
A pair of paintings by Louise Abbema (1853-1927) that once hung in my grandmother’s dining room — representing hydrangeas and chrysanthemums. Blue hydrangeas make me think about French writer Robert de Montesqiuou (1855-1921), and I like to think that she painted them as a homage to him. She was a woman ahead of her time, almost like Christine the Queens today.
What was the last thing you bought and loved?
An1845 bust by Jean-Pierre Dantan (1800-1869). I was looking for a piece to complete my living room décor and had the chance to acquire it.
What’s the best gift you’ve been given?
A sculpture of a baby head, Le Petit Voyou, by Jean-Joseph Carriès (1855-1894); his twin belongs to the Petit Palais Collection. It was my thirtieth birthday gift from one of my closest friends, who knew Carries is one of my favourite sculptors.
Reconfiguration of the ballroom at the Hôtel Le Marois, by Victor Bonnivard, with a 1940s Quatre Potiers handrail and architecture attributed to Pierre Pinsard, photograph by Stephan Julliard
What would you like to own that you currently don’t possess?
A nineteen-seventies BMW in champagne. Even though I’m anything but a good driver I’ve always loved old cars — life can be ironic.
What’s your biggest extravagance?
My library! I’m a compulsive book buyer — even though it’s entirely unreasonable as I don’t have the space. I love Lagerfeld’s (1933-2019) library; though I don’t have his means, therefore I’m limited!
What’s your biggest regret?
Not having had a great dinner with Françoise Sagan (1935-2004), Régine (1929-2002) and Amanda Lear (b. 1939) — but unfortunately, that’s somewhat wishful thinking. Though I’m still hoping to have dinner with Mme Lear!
The site that most inspires you?
Grotte des Planches, close to arbois. My great grandfather discovered the cave in nineteen-twenty. It’s a remarkable natural site which we inherited with my brother a few years ago. It has four generations of family history that we want to continue. The stone there has been carved by water for millennials, and in places, it almost has the appearance of sand dunes.
Where’s the most unforgettable place you’ve travelled?
The Gellért Spa in Budapest; the blue thermal baths with their Zsolnay earthenware tiles give the place a truly magical atmosphere. Stay at the Hotel Gellért, and from there take afternoon tea at the New York Café, go for a drink in the gallery of the Párisi Udvar, and spend the rest of the evening at Mazel Tov — where both the food and canopy are marvellous.
Where would you like to go next?
I would love to go back to Italy and take the time to enjoy Firenze, Napoli and the architecture of Roma, then make a detour by Vicenza to see Palladio’s Villa Rotonda. I also need to take time to go and visit a Murano glass blower!
What’s the best souvenir you’ve bought home?
A horn chair by Babacar Niang that I brought as a souvenir after a trip to Senegal. Unfortunately, he passed away a few years ago, but his pieces are still produced. He’s a great designer with visionary shapes.
Tell us about a recent “find”?
I recently discovered French philosopher Auguste Comte’s house in Paris, it’s a bit hidden and hard to find; which might explain why time there seems to have stopped — almost like Georges Sand’s house in Nohant.
If you didn’t live in Paris, where would you live?
My hometown, Salins-les-Bains in Franche-Comté — where I go as often as I can. There’s a one-hundred-and-twenty years old family-owned chocolate factory: Hirsinger. It’s an institution! For dinner, I’ll always book a table at Le Bistrot de Port Lesney, and for dessert have the famous Paris-Brest for two. Gallery-wise, it’s harder. But the Jurassians’ vineyards make up for it, they’re a very good reason for friends and clients to come and visit me.
Reconfiguration of the ballroom at the Hôtel Le Marois, by Victor Bonnivard, an exceptional building dating back to 1860 with architecture attributed to Pierre Pinsard, photograph by Stephan Julliard
If you had to limit your shopping to one neighbourhood, in one city, which would you choose?
The ninth arrondissement of Paris. First, we’ll go to Drouot, then to Mathieu Neouze’s gallery, whose selection is one of my absolute favourites. Then, coffee on Place Saint-Georges, so as to admire the façade of the nineteenth-century Hôtel de la Païva; lunch at Belle Maison, completing our shopping frenzy at Galerie la Nouvelle Athènes and ending the afternoon with tea in the garden of the Musée de la Vie Romantique.
What’s your favourite room in your apartment?
My living room. I’m fortunate to have a décor classified as a monument historique, for its Madder wallpaper, among other things. I love both details and the light — standing there feels like being part of a painting.
What’s the best book you’ve read in the past year?
I have little time to read therefore I would rather read work-related books than novels. My latest finds is L’art de suspender les rideaux: De l'ancien régime au second empire, by Jean-François Dontenwill and Sébastien Ragueneau, that I found at the Librairie du Compagnonage. It’s the kind of book that better helps you understand a style or period. In terms of design, details speak as a spokesperson for history and their concerns.
What would you do if you didn’t work in design?
If I were not a decorator, I would have opened a hotel. I love the idea of building a venue and the art of welcoming à la française.
What ambition do you still have?
My ambition is to create a reference décor for a particular style. Such as Le Château Du Champ De Bataille for Jacques Garcia, Hôtel de Duc de Gesvres for Joseph Achkar and his partner Michel Charrière, or some private interiors by François-Joseh Graf. These are decorators whom I admire most.
What’s the greatest challenge of our time?
One of the biggest challenges is finding quality makers and materials. In my work, for example, I put an emphasis on employing artisans capable of ancient paint techniques and upholsterers who still fill furniture with horse hair. I’m strongly committed to doing my part so as to avoid such specialist makers disappearing, and without demand, they will.
What’s next?
Very soon I’ll release my first furniture collection made in stoneware in collaboration with sculptor Hervé Rousseau. The Fireplace is currently on display at le Musée de la Chasse et de la Nature in Paris. Simultaneously I have several apartment projects and two châteaux I’m working on. Of course, the most exciting ongoing project is still the development of my agency!