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Now, as we know, the French have a long and proud history in the decorative arts – they virtually invented the idiom – but, more than any other, there’s one style that encapsulates le style Francais. You might know it as Art Deco. The French called it Moderne. Ah, Art Deco. Just mention it and images of sleek ocean liners, peopled by impossibly beautiful characters wearing Cartier jewels and sipping Manhattan cocktails spring to mind. Or maybe it’s the futuristic styling of Max Sterm’s Metropolis or even the gaudy delights of the Odeon cinema – those streamlined and chrome-plated ‘peoples’ palaces’ that brought Hollywood glamour to the depression-ravaged masses of the 1930s. Art Deco emerged as a style for the new century and an ever-changing, fast-paced world of motor cars, air travel, flappers, and syncopated jazz. It’s the style of the Chrysler building, of the Zigfeld Follies and, as it happens, Victoria Coach Station; an intoxicating mix that continues to beguile us as much as it did in the Roaring Twenties.
Has there ever been a style more luxurious, glamorous, more imitated and, perhaps, less understood? Let’s start with the name. ‘Art Deco’ was actually only first coined in the late 1960s as a sort of two-hander to Art Nouveau which had preceded it. Also, far from being a single recognisable style, there were, in fact, many different strands, depending on when and where it popped up.
Italy, Sweden and, of course, America all had their own particular ‘takes’ on it. But nowhere did the style emerge more coherently than in France. Many books will tell you that Art Deco first surfaced at the Exposition Internationale des Arts Decoratifs et Industriels Modernes, the world expo held in Paris in 1925. Except that it didn’t. The Moderne style actually began to appear in France much earlier, around 1910 and was well into its stride by the time of the exhibition.
So, having de-bunked a couple of myths, let’s look at what is it that makes French Art Deco, sorry, Moderne, so distinctive. It’s all down to time and place. The French interpretation of the style was extremely luxurious, relying on rare and exotic materials like Macassar, ebony, lacquer, shagreen and mother-of-pearl, to give a sheen of glamour. As the centre of the world’s luxury goods market, Parisian designers were well-placed to take advantage of the readiness of these materials and could also draw on the world-leading expertise that Parisian craftsmen had in working them.
So much for place, as for time, le Style Moderne sought inspiration not from the modern industrial world, instead, it looked back in time to the world of Marie Antoinette and the French aristocracy. For a style so synonymous with the twentieth century, the French Moderne style is firmly rooted in the grand traditions of the 18th Century ancien régime – the political and social system of France before the revolution of 1789 – and its time-honoured traditions of apprenticeship and guild training.
During the 18th Century, France established itself in the forefront of the luxury trades, producing furniture, porcelain, glass, metalwork and textiles of unsurpassed refinement and elegance with Paris becoming the style capital of the western world. The ebenistes of Paris became the acknowledged masters of furniture making in Europe, supplying the homes and chateaux of the French court and aristocracy.
Some of the most beautiful and refined furniture ever made, displaying the highest level of artistic and technical ability, was created in Paris during the eighteenth century. Rather than breaking with tradition, the great designers of the 1920s saw themselves as inheritors of a grand tradition stretching back over two centuries. Tradition, however, was not the only source of inspiration. So too were the exotic, avant-garde trends in the fine arts and fashion. The vogue for exoticism developed following the arrival in Paris of the Russian impresario Sergei Diaghilev and his dance troupe, the Ballets Russes, in 1909, with its wildly atmospheric and outré productions. Léon Bakst’s design for Schéhérezade (1910), for example, featured lavish orientalist sets and costumes. The unexpected colour combinations, vivid patterns and louche furnishings – billowing curtains, low-slung divans, piles of tasselled pillows – were immediately imitated in stylish interiors by Paris artist-decorators.
Paris in the 1920s had an abundance of places where objects in the Moderne style were sold and displayed, mostly galleries, showrooms and shops on the more voguish Right Bank of the city centre. What were called Ensemblier showrooms, such as those of Emille-Jacques Ruhlmann, Süe et Mare and Martine, not only displayed individual pieces for sale but presented fully furnished interiors that suggested the range of what the ensemblier could produce on commission. At the more accessible end of the market, the four big Paris department stores established specialised decorating departments and many speciality shops, including Jean Luce, La Crémaillère and Le Grand Dépôt, which sold a wide range of glass, ceramics, linens and other utilitarian and decorative goods. It was as if Moderne had entered the DNA of the French capital.
For those in search of the Moderne style, Paris is, of course, a mere hop and skip over the channel but for a taste of the style that’s a little closer to home, Eltham Palace near Greenwich is a capsule of 1930s Parisian-inspired sophistication. Stephen and Virginia Courtauld of the eponymous textiles dynasty bought Eltham with its semi-ruined medieval Great Hall, moat and bridge, and rebuilt it as a dazzlingly sophisticated semi-rural hideaway. The saloon is a vast Moderne interior, lined with Australian black bean wood panelling, topped with a dome and finished off with a vast, circular, abstract carpet, the effect is like entering the First Class Lounge of a 1930s liner. Not that everyone felt that at the time: one editorial in The Times likened it to a cigarette factory.
The stock market crash of 1929 saw the optimism of the 1920s gradually decline. By the mid-1930s, Art Deco was being derided as a gaudy, false image of luxury. Despite its demise, however, Art Deco made a fundamental impact on subsequent design. Art Deco's widespread application and enduring influence prove that its appeal is based on more than visual allure alone.
Vive la France!
Click here to visit our lookbook 'Iconic Geometry' for our take on an Art Deco inspired interior.
Or click here to shop our full collection of Art Deco pieces.
The British, as we are always told, are a reserved people. Along with fish and chips, our stiff upper lip is what we’re most famous for. I must admit that whenever I hear this, I have to remind myself that, within this sweeping statement, they’re talking about me. I don’t know about you but I’ve never considered myself the shy and retiring type, if anything, I’m a bit of a Cavalier. A what, I hear you ask. Let me explain. According to a particular school of thought, we Brits divide into two camps – Roundhead and Cavalier. Students of history will know that these were the opposing sides in the English Civil War – the Parliamentarians aka Roundheads were known for their spartan tastes – banning Christmas carols and anything that looked even remotely pleasurable while, on the other side, the Cavaliers revelled in all that life had to offer and showed it with their big hair, Saville Row tailored uniforms and their all-round flamboyance and love of the good things in life. We have a saying that if someone has a ‘cavalier attitude’ it means they don’t care (like that’s always a bad thing). If ever someone accuses you of that just tell them to stop being such a Roundhead.
Anyway, so the theory goes, these opposing traits have become key aspects of the British character, battling for supremacy in every walk of life like it’s 1642 all over again. As a design historian, one of the things I love is being able to make connections between man-made objects and the wider world. I think, down the centuries, this Roundhead versus Cavalier tension has played out in the way we decorate our homes. Roundheads are all about straight lines and classical order, while Cavaliers are more laissez-faire and letting things go curly. Normally it works pendulum style – think of the florid excesses of High Victorianism being stamped out by William Morris and his smock-wearing acolytes, or those ‘Form Follows Function’ Modernists showing Art Deco exactly what it could do with its decorative flourishes - but occasionally those two forces fight it out at the same time. With this in mind, this week we’re taking a look at the curious affair that was English Rococo.
Rococo, it’s a word you’ll have heard before but what exactly was it? Quite simply, the most self-consciously decorative – cavalier - of all decorative styles. Developed in Louis XIV’s (it was known as “the French taste” in this country) it was the dominant style in northern and central Europe during the first half of the 18th century, affecting all the arts from furniture to fashion and sculpture to ceramics. The word rococo actually began life as a term of ridicule in the 1790s, when the style was already dead and buried. It sounds Italian but actually derives from the French rocaille (pronounced 'rock-eye'), describing the shells and rocks which were used as decoration in shell-rooms and garden grottoes.
There’s nothing straight about Rococo, it’s all about the curve. Flowing lines became obligatory. Think twirly-whirly, think wedding cake decoration, sinuous C and S-scrolls, garlands, ribbons, shells and sea monsters. Familiar objects lose their well-known outlines and, to quote the Bard, suffer a sea-change, into something rich and strange. In Rococo’s surreal world everything swirls, moves and writhes. Designers plundered the natural world for inspiration; crabs, eels, and crustaceans happily rub along with seaweed, mermaids and river gods. Rococo’s essential motif was the cartouche – an amorphous, unformed shape that was somewhere between a jellyfish and the human ear, which could be moulded into any shape. From this basic motif the great French ornemanistes – like Nicolas Pineau, who could take a console table and turn it into an all singing, all dancing gilded extravaganza – produced their extraordinary designs.
Across the channel, the British were grinding their teeth. Paris was the undisputed centre of European fashion and the French luxury trades set trends for all the other European nations. Despite being almost constantly at war with France throughout the 18th century, those thrifty Anglo-Saxon Protestants still craved the exquisite sophistications of the enemy. Rococo arrived in England just at the point when things were getting more square and architectural. Since the 1720s when Lord Burlington had led a campaign to revive the classical splendours of Palladio and Inigo Jones, the Palladian movement had been the dominant force in design. The watchwords were symmetry and balance and, as styles go, it was sober and serious – Roundheaded, even. For some, Rococo’s arrival was looked upon rather like the arrival of a flu pandemic. Frothing with indignation, one commentator had this to say:
They heap cornices, columns, cascades, rushes and rocks in a confused manner, one upon another; and in some corner of this confused chaos, they will place a cupid in great fright, and crown the whole with a festoon of flowers.
The Rococo first inveigled its way into England via the fashionable dining rooms of the aristocracy. Gastronomic success rested not only on the best ingredients, but also on the service, the convivial atmosphere, and the visual interest of the table and eating room. By the 1740s, the best dining tables were groaning with a prince's ransom of rococo silverware: a still-life centre piece or a branching epergne holding flowers and fruit surrounded by a flotilla of tureens, condiment sets and candelabra. The greatest Rococo silversmiths were Paul de Lamerie and Nicholas Crespin (who once found the perfect Rococo shape in a turtle’s shell and so mounted it in silver and turned it into a punch bowl) both of whom specialised in elaborate tableware that were swirling rocaille masterpieces, which must have ruined the taste of the soup for more Palladian-minded diners.
The outstanding English interpreter of Rococo was Matthew (or Matthias) Lock. He was a designer and cabinet-maker who had workshops in Tottenham Court Road but about whose life we know virtually nothing. Lock was an outstanding draftsman who, probably more than anyone else, understood the French style giving it his own, very English, twist. In his fantasy world – best seen on his mirror frames – a riotous assembly takes place; friendly goats confront surprised foxes; monkeys precariously perched monkeys blow bubbles; squirrels admire spring flowers; Chinaman in coolie hots and drooping moustaches cling to trees, the roots of which dissolve into icicles; all among a riot of fountains, shells and running water.
So did, England ‘go Rococo’? Well, for the answer to that, look around. Visit France, or southern Germany, or Austria or northern Italy and you’ll be tripping over Rococo palaces, churches and townhouses, try looking for the same in this country and your search will be in vain. The truth is Rococo made only a brief stay as a fashionable style and only touched the smart and the grand, even then, mostly in the form of small objects – vases, candlesticks, soup tureens, mirrors - rather than whole interiors.
As styles go, Rococo was elegant and charming but insubstantial. This was to sow the seeds of its downfall since it showed a lack of reverence for classical architecture which became unacceptable to the new generation of Rome-inspired architects, like Robert Adam who openly despised it. In fact, what was called Rococo in England bore little resemblance to the rich, creamy, wedding-cake heights it achieved in Europe. Done properly, Rococo was smart, urban and sophisticated it was also expensive and hard to master. Rococo designs demanded that each craftsman be also an outstanding artist as well. That was asking too much. John Betjeman, the great architectural historian, said that political history explains the style’s failure to launch. Because of the Civil War and gradual reform of Parliament, the aristocracy took a greater interest in politics here than on the Continent. Rococo required commitment and we were just too busy with other things. Perhaps it was a victory for the roundheads after all.
Styles never quite come to a full stop. In the early 19th Century the rococo impulse was revived under the flamboyant Prince Regent. Its last hurrah was at the turn of the century with Art Nouveau, when it made a flamboyant if brief return. While the austere geometry of modernism governed much of design thinking during the twentieth century, designers continually returned to organic, natural curves as a source of inspiration in the 1950s, and the psychedelic 1960s.
Fantastical, daring, highly decorative and never, ever sensible, it’s almost impossible not to be charmed by Rococo. There again, as a Cavalier, I suppose I would say that.
We talk to ‘Antiques Roadshow’ expert Chris Yeo about collecting Mid-Century glass. He says ‘dancing with light and alive with colour, Mid-Century glass makes a bold statement, just try not to get too hooked’.
When I tell people I work in antiques the question I’m invariably asked (after “When do you hope to get a real job?”) is “What do you collect?” and my answer is absolutely nothing. Although I’ve lived, eaten and breathed antiques since childhood the idea of amassing a collection of any one thing or group of things has never held any appeal. With one exception, that is.
Roughly twenty years ago, on a typical Saturday morning mooch around an antiques market (remember them?), I came across something that stopped me in my tracks. It was a glass vase, a sleek, weighty number in rich shades of blue and turquoise. It was love at first sight and, of course, I bought it. About a month later I bought another piece of glass, shortly followed by another and another – you get the picture.
For the next few years, I hoovered up every piece of studio glass I could find. It was a labour of love and an obsession which bordered on an addiction. Put a piece of studio glass in front of me and I would find it near impossible to ‘just say no’. I won’t be too hard on my younger self. There is, after all, something undeniably seductive about mid-century art glass: a perfect marriage of art, craft and design that melts the hearts of even the most ardent minimalists. Richly coloured and beautifully made, fine quality glass introduces just the right note of luxury, colour and sophistication into any interior.
The Europe that emerged from the Second World War was a grey and dismal place. War-time shortages and rationing of “luxury goods” meant that people had been starved of colour for years. There was a huge demand for anything bright, fresh and modern, especially among young people setting up home for the first time. Ceramics, textiles and wallpaper manufacturers all ramped up the colour quota but nowhere was this appetite for colour better nourished than amongst makers of studio glass. And, when it came to glass, no one understood colour better than the Italians.
Italian design came of age in the post-war years with a welter of colourful designs in both glass and plastic, materials which share the same malleable qualities. The magical process of transforming a bubble of molten glass into a vessel or piece of sculpture is a test of skill and artistry but the Italians took up the challenge with gusto and, of course, style. Highly individualistic designers celebrated colour for its own sake, applying it in ever more bold and dramatic combinations. Italian glass is more properly Venetian glass. Venice has always been the heart of the Italian glassmaking industry with a history of glass-blowing unparalleled anywhere else in the world. From the thirteenth century onwards Venice had held a monopoly on glassmaking in Europe, and its products—often extravagantly coloured, enamelled, and gilded—were treasured luxuries. Originally, Venetian glass was made - as you would imagine - in Venice, but the workshops were moved to the small lagoon island of Murano in 1291, in part because their kilns constituted a fire hazard to the city, but also to keep the glassmaking process a secret by isolating the makers on their own well-guarded island.
Now, I think it’s fair to say that for many of us our idea of Murano glass will have been “coloured” by a trip to Venice. You’ll have done the circuit of St Marks, paid through the nose for a coffee and then, along with ten thousand others, you will have been funnelled off into the narrow alleyways that lead off the square. You shuffle along passed shop after shop – each one dedicated to relieving you of as much money as possible - crammed with all manner of gaudy clowns, fish, dolphins and more Mickey Mouse figures than even Disneyland would want - all sold under the banner “Murano”. If this has been your only encounter with Italian glass you’d be forgiven for wanting it to stay that way but there really is so much more to Murano.
From the 13th to the 18th century Murano glass was one of the wonders of the world with an unrivalled reputation for innovation, its glassmakers having developed, among other things, ways of incorporating threads of gold into their creations and techniques for the famous millefiori (multicoloured) and lattimo (milk) glass. Amongst the myriad workshops that make up the Murano glass industry the most highly regarded and arguably the best known is Venini.
The firm was founded in the early 1920s when an enterprising Milanese lawyer, Paolo Venini, established a new glass company on the island with a Venetian antiques dealer, Giacomo Cappelin. Their breakthrough innovation was to copy the French fashion industry’s tradition of appointing an artistic director to create new designs and then drive them forwards. This was a stroke of genius which instantly put Venini at the forefront of fashion. The firm collaborated with artists who transferred their skills from canvas to glass, combining bright vibrant colour with flair and confidence that’s the very essence of Italian style. As a strategy, it took glassmaking to new heights of excellence and kick-started the Italian studio glass movement.
By the early 1930s, Venini was attracting the cream of Italian designers including Carlo Scarpa, Gio Ponti and Tyra Lundgren. The post-war years were Murano’s most dazzling and creative period. With its bold palette, Italian glass of the 1950s and ‘60s is instantly recognisable. Shapes have an easy asymmetry and a looseness of form reminiscent of folded fabric. In fact, one of the most popular shapes was the ‘fazaletto’ or ‘folded-handkerchief’ vases first made by Venini in the 1940s.
With its vibrant colour combinations and top-quality design credentials, the Italians dominated the glass scene but they weren’t the only nation on the colour spectrum. In the UK the prestigious London-based firm of Whitefriars had been making glass since the 17th century and had a centuries-old reputation for restrained and elegant glassware but in the 1950s its fortunes changed when, like Venini, it engaged the services of an artistic director, Geoffrey Baxter (1912-95).
Baxter was a young graduate fresh from the Royal College of Art, at that time a powerhouse of ideas about art and design. At Whitefriars, Baxter took the forms of Scandinavian glass – thickly-walled, with curving organic shapes and highly sculptural vessels – but, unlike the Nordic versions which used either clear glass or subtle, muted shades – Baxter used bright, rich colours to create something youthful and very British. Colourful things were also coming from behind the Iron Curtain.
In Czechoslovakia, the glass industry was nationalised in 1948 and continued the centuries-old tradition of glassmaking in the Bohemian region. Bohemian glass had a reputation for excellence and the new Communist government did not deem glass to be an art form that was ideologically threatening, meaning that designers could work largely free of official control. This resulted in the creation of highly innovative modern designs that updated traditional methods of glassmaking and put Czech glass on par with the best that Italy had to offer.
Following on from its 1950s heyday, studio glass is once again riding the crest of a wave of popularity. If you’ve never thought of having glass on display, think again: the allure of light playing on coloured glass can be just as compelling as a strikingly painted canvas. That said, some people remain a little nervous about living with glass – “It’ll get knocked over and smashed!” Truth is, most glass is more robust than you think and, so long as you’re not flinging it against the wall, it’s no less durable than pottery.
Striking forms and colours make the piece a work of art in its own right and a real talking point. Art glass, displayed as a single statement piece or grouped together, brings warmth and colour to an interior as effectively as any painting and can also be a good way of introducing an accent colour into a room scheme.
The sinuous, organic shapes and jewel-like hues so beloved of mid-century glass artists work as a counterpoint to the tailored interiors of today. Arranging collections of glass in groupings of similar colours and shapes create a strong visual impact.
Remember, when it comes to glass, less is always more, don’t clutter shelves and tabletops with pieces. Instead, give each one space to breathe. You’ll find your art glass a source of inspiration as well as beauty.
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Browse our collection of Mid-Century glass:
> Shop our Murano glass collection
> Shop glass and ceramics
The 20th Century was an era of innovation and flair in the lighting sphere. Two post-war periods saw an influx of new materials as well as a desire to move away from traditional designs. This was the age of the Sputnik pendant, stunning Murano glass lamps, and a host of other revolutionary lighting designs.
For most of our history, we relied upon daylight, moonlight, and dubious candles to get by. Gaslight arrived in the 19th Century, but it was reserved for commercial and industrial settings at first and had its fair share of drawbacks.
The greatest revolution in domestic lighting came in the 1870s. Joseph Swan and Thomas Edison invented the first commercially viable incandescent light bulbs. These offered a much cleaner and safer solution than gaslighting. The National Grid rose to the challenge of roll-out, and by the end of the 1930s the number of homes wired for electricity rose from 6% in 1919 to 2/3s.
The spread of electricity in the early 20th Century set the stage for some of the most ground-breaking lighting designs in history. Today, lighting is an essential element in the interior tapestry, both in form and function. Layers are key to this, and vintage lighting, with its brilliant spectrum of design styles, can fulfill any brief.
Lighting, perhaps more than any other interior feature, will always need optimal function as well as good looks. A major functional breakthrough came in the development of task lighting in the early 20th Century. Task lighting is designed to aid specific activities, from reading to sewing. It encompasses floor lamps, table lamps, and desk lamps. The last of these has a particularly fascinating history.
Like all great designs, social context played a big role in the development of task lighting. An early entrepreneur in this field was Curt Fischer, who ran a German metal workshop. His company, Midgard, invented its first lights in 1919. These lamps were informed by an acute study of human behaviour. Midgard was deeply inspired by Bauhaus principles and vice versa. Throughout the 20s and 30s, the driving force behind task lighting was factories and workshops. As the 20th Century progressed, they found a whole new relevance through emerging corporate work culture.
The ergonomics behind early designs responded to common human problems. Slouching over a desk for long hours has long presented side effects. With their articulated arms bending – quite literally – to the user’s will, early task lights addressed this issue.
Despite plenty of experimentation during the early 20th Century, it was one George Carwardine who invented the desk lamp as we know it today. Far from a lighting designer by trade, Carwardine specialised in car engineering. Upon observing the suspension mechanisms in vehicles he worked on, Carwardine realised the same could work for lights.
By using a new sort of spring and pivoting arms, he achieved balance without the need for counterweights. He patented the new helical spring in 1932, but he chose to outsource production to the company that supplied his springs. So, Carwardine worked on new designs whilst Herbert Terry took over the manufacture, and the Terry Anglepoise lamp was born.
The first Anglepoise model, 1227, became available to the general public in 1935. The outbreak of WWII helped rather than hindered them, as they marketed it as the ideal blackout lamp for keeping light localised. Herbert Terry continued to adapt to the zeitgeist throughout the 20th Century. For example, during the 60s and 70s the company produced lamps in an array of vibrant shades.
These early designers and manufacturers were so successful that most later desk lamps have looked very similar. Articulated lamps are still much sought-after, especially in the current mode of home working. It wasn’t always about creating the most focused light possible, as Hans-Agne Jakobsson proved. The renowned Swedish designer mastered anti-glare, diffused and muted lighting. We consider these same qualities indispensable in our interiors today.
Whether you’re looking for a workshop lamp or a statement chandelier, vintage lighting is such a large pool that you cannot go wrong. If you’re after artisanal beauty, there’s one country that gets it right every time. This feels like an apt moment to quote our interview with Toma Clark-Haines, the Antiques Diva. ‘Lighting is the jewellery of the room and sets the vibe of a space. When it comes to lighting, it’s got to be Italian.’
It's not hard to see why Toma covets Italian lighting. Italy was home to the likes of Gio Ponti and Gaetano Sciolari during the 20th Century. They also had one major asset when it came to lighting design: the glassmakers of Murano. When this stunning hand-blown glass met with stylish Mid Century forms, the result was breathtaking.
Successful designers such as Gino Sarfatti treated lighting as an art form, producing reams of lamps in his lifetime. You appreciate these pieces as an art form before even thinking of them as a light, but function was never sacrificed for style.
Lamps by the likes of Carlo Nason, the famed Murano glass artist, shatter the boundaries of traditional lighting. Colour is the most mesmerising feature in any Murano glass lamp, with a dazzling array of vibrant shades.
As always, Italian manufacturers played a key role alongside these individual designers. Mazzega, for instance, started out in 1946 and still operates today under the grandson of founder Angelo Vittorio Mazzega. The company, then and now, works with the very best international lighting designers – all in the medium of gorgeous Murano glass. When you hear Mazzega, their chandeliers made up of densely packed leaves of Murano glass often spring to mind.
Explosive talent ricocheted through Europe and America in this period and shook the design world. Interior rule books were torn up and rewritten more frequently than ever before. Again, more often than not the most iconic designs speak to their historical and social context. You can almost map social developments through just a few distinctive lights and their makers.
The fabulous Sputnik chandelier was influenced by a fascination with all things space-related in the Mid Century. Its origin is disputed due to the many interpretations of this pendant light, but the very first came from Gino Sarfatti – the Italian modernist designer.
As with George Carwardine, Sarfatti was not a destined lighting designer. He was an aeronautical engineer by trade but seized the opportunity for extra income when his family fell on hard times. Sarfatti called his designs ‘rational’ lights, in reference to their efficiency and simple aesthetic.
The Sputnik, with its branches pointing in all directions, was a very successful experiment in directional light. Its metal form gives it an industrial edge, but it somehow feels glamorous at the same time. This seminal design is named after the Soviet Union’s first-ever satellite, launched in 1957. Sciolari was among the designers who designed their own version of this classic.
Singular design houses shifted seamlessly with changing tastes throughout the century. A good example is Maison Jansen, the Paris-based favourite of royals and elites. They spanned traditional Louis XVI, Art Deco, and modernism in over 100 years of operation. In the 70s, their iconic palm tree and ananas floor and table lamps revived Hollywood Regency glamour with brilliant results. These brass lamps with their natural themes are still in high demand today for bringing exotic luxury to a space.
At the other end of the spectrum, the lighting designs of Poul Henningsen are the definition of Scandi restraint. The Danish designer's motivation was akin to that of the Arts & Crafts movement – to improve people’s lives through design. His three-tiered shade designs reduced glare and distributed a soft glow throughout the room.
His first pendant, the PH lamp, was produced in 1926 by Louis Poulson and met with global acclaim. Henningsen designed his first PH Artichoke for a modernist Copenhagen restaurant in 1958. This stylish spiky pendant remains a firm favourite amongst collectors.
The 20th Century saw perhaps the most extensive and successful range of lighting designs in history. The lighting produced in this period is indispensable to our interiors, whatever your personal taste.
The designs covered in this article don’t even scratch the surface of vintage lighting. However, they do give some idea of its sheer quality and range. Shop all our 20th Century lighting on our website, as well as our whole collection of Mid Century design.
Spark your imagination with our lookbook, ‘Iconic retro lighting‘
Thyme shares the perfect autumnal recipe this month. Quince tart, a guaranteed crowd-pleaser. Andrea at Last Drop Wines recommends two wines that she describes as 'magic in a bottle' to accompany this indulgent dessert.
'I adore quince but never see enough of it. I have a similar passion for Ratafia, the wine pairing. (A word of caution, Ratafia, is a widely used word for fruit liquors, nutty biscuits and fortified wines - the latter is the one of interest.) Ratafia was very much a treasure tucked away in a small oak barrel in the corner of a small family producer's cellar. Made for consumption by family and friends and not as a commercial wine, it is simply magic in a bottle - a local custom dating back to the 13th Century. A certain amount of begging had to be done to get our hands on these wines.
This pair of Ratafias are the perfect gift for your friend or yourself. Available for £75 for the pair, including delivery and a handwritten card.
Please send orders through to hello@lastdropwines.com.
Our online shopping system is coming soon! It will be available at www.lastdropwines.com.
An 'Aladdin's cave for wine-lovers,' you will find Last Drop Wines on the famous King's Road in Chelsea. The store is owned and led by Andrea, whose expertise can recommend and provide a bottle for any occasion.
View all seasonal recipes and wine pairings on L-Shaped.
Thyme shares a hearty recipe for the Tuscan soup ribollita this month, which combines earthy vegetables with beans, tomatoes, and bread. Andrea at Last Drop Wines recommends a Chianti to accompany the dish. This particular wine is as sustainable as it is delicious...
'Quite simply this month's pairing has to be a good bottle of Chianti. I have chosen Salcheto Biskero 2019 from Michelle Manelli; vintage after vintage, I keep this wine in the rack as a perfect everyday red.
Careful attention is given to the blend of 85% Sangiovese (a sensational clone of Sangiovese Prugnolo Gentile), Canaiolo Nero, Mammolo, and Merlot. This organic wine contains no sulphites and is made from indigenous yeasts. It also comes from the first estate in Italy to be fully self-sustainable with energy-independent cellars.
This is the perfect pairing with this soup and, in fact, a perfect red for most occasions. I'm not sure that I would pair it with my Sunday morning fry-up, but I am always happy to find this bottle in the wine rack.
So if you are craving the hills of Tuscany, a bowl of ribollita, and a glass of red, this wine should get you as close as possible without any PCR tests!'
This Chianti is £17 per bottle plus delivery. However, buying one bottle seems a bit silly so we are offering a case (6 bottles) for £100 including delivery. Please send orders through to hello@lastdropwines.com.
Our online shopping system is coming soon! It will be available at www.lastdropwines.com.
An 'Aladdin's cave for wine-lovers,' you will find Last Drop Wines on the famous King's Road in Chelsea. The store is owned and led by Andrea, whose expertise can recommend and provide a bottle for any occasion.
View all seasonal recipes and wine pairings on L-Shaped.
Dripping with their vibrant glossy glaze, French antique confit pots are a humble yet gorgeous collecting area. We discuss their culinary history, what to look for when buying a pot, and how to bring their magic into your interiors.
Confit pots were made for culinary use and they quickly became staples of the French kitchen. ‘Confit’ comes from the verb confire, to preserve, which inspired the French preserved duck dish of the same name. Confit pots served as the all-important preserving vessels for confit. Luckily, many of these earthenware pots have survived and we encounter beautiful 19th and early 20th Century examples. The great irony of these pots is although they were produced en masse, every single one is unique.
"I'm looking for drama in my interiors. That means pieces with great shapes, rich textures, and patina, patina, patina!" This week, we chat to none other than The Antiques Diva herself, Toma Clark-Haines.
Q: The antiques industry has rapidly evolved during the pandemic. What key lessons have you taken away?
A: People do business with people. The world may have gone virtual, but buyers want to connect with the people behind the brands and customer interaction is more important than ever. One of the things we teach in our Antique Dealer Training and Mentoring Program is that dealers need to be the face of their brand in order to connect with their buyers. The connection is important. As a result, video content is key- especially when working with the American market. We work with dealers to develop a video content strategy that connects with their target audience.
Early in the pandemic, I made the bold move to share my personal diary during quarantine on republicoftoma.com. In my blog posts, I spoke about day-to-day life in quarantine. I was vulnerable, open, and real. I confessed the struggles I was going through being alone in lockdown in Italy. It seemed a strange "marketing move," but my business doing antique buying tours has been really disrupted, so I needed to find a way to stay relevant. I stayed relevant by being real. I discussed what was going on in my life at the time.
Also, I pivoted The Antiques Diva to incorporate virtual tours, long-distance buying and selling services, brand-coaching, and more. When you can't go outside, you go in. I started painting again and will be launching a fabric collection in June 2021 at High Point Market. One of the most important lessons I've learned has been about supply and demand. Between Brexit and the pandemic, there is a shortage of inventory on the market. Brits are having problems securing inventory from France because the French are having problems securing inventory from house clearings due to Covid restrictions. Auction houses are experiencing higher volumes of traffic and prices are surging.
In these times, dealers need to think smart. They have to be strategic. I often speak about the gentrification of antiques. What's on the market at a lower price point? Antiques dealers are the arbiters of style- what they sell, interior designers buy, and home décor trends emerge.
Q: Your finger is always on the pulse when it comes to interior trends, are you predicting any revivals in the near future?
A: Asian antiques are killing it right now. With Brits facing difficulties sourcing antiques on the continent, and normal trade routes drying up during the pandemic, our British buyers are relying upon Antiques Diva Asia to bring South East Asian Antiques into Europe. We are watching a global movement of inventory in a different fashion to previous years. For three years I've been predicting this will be the trend, and based upon sales my predictions have finally come true. Combine Brexit sourcing difficulties with a pandemic that doesn't allow people to travel and we've all got island fever! Americans have been embracing this wanderlust vibe for the last several years. Buying exotic touches from faraway places allows us to travel in our own homes.
Speaking of homes, we are selling more practical items. Tables, chairs, sofas, side tables, and even armoires. Remember when armoires were all the rage? And then dropped out of fashion with the advent of the flat-screen TV? Well, they are back as people are seeking storage spaces, particularly for their home office. Tables that can be converted into desks have also been big sellers. Art sales have also increased significantly... perhaps we're all tired of looking at the same four walls?
In these times, dealers need to think smart. They have to be strategic. I often speak about the gentrification of antiques. What's on the market at a lower price point? Antiques dealers are the arbiters of style- what they sell, interior designers buy, and home décor trends emerge.
Q: Furnishing an interior, especially from scratch, can be daunting. Where should you start?
A: In the last 20 years, I've moved eight times within four countries. I always start with the lighting in a new home. Lighting is the jewellery of the room and sets the vibe of a space. When it comes to lighting, it's got to be Italian. From lighting, I then look at pieces with fabulous lines. In love- as well as in antiques- opposites attract. I love a low-slung sofa combined with sexy legs on a French bergère, or the long voluptuous lines of a chaise longue. I'm looking for drama in my interiors, and that means pieces with great shapes, rich textures, and patina, patina, patina!
I always start with the lighting in a new home. Lighting is the jewellery of the room and sets the vibe of a space. When it comes to lighting, it's got to be Italian.
Q: The Antiques Diva is more or less global and pre-pandemic you travelled a lot. What made you settle in Venice?
A: Love. No, not a man. Venice itself. I fell in love with Venice. When I was a child I dreamt of Venice. I had a black and white swimming suit I would wear standing in my bathtub with a yellow broom and I would swish the water and pretend I was a gondolier. When I first moved from America to Europe 20+ years ago, I visited Venice and was disappointed. It was crowded and hot and I hated it. Years later I returned for work with The Antiques Diva & Co and made Venetian friends. They let me inside Venice. The real Venice. There are two Venices. The city the tourists know and the city that lays beyond. Venice is like an onion- you have to peel back the layers to get to the core of the city. I liked the adventure of peeling back the layers.
When I divorced, I found myself frequently going to Venice because it made me happy. I would wander the canals and alleys and get so lost. In getting lost I found myself again. I was living in Berlin at the time and realized that because my job was global, so long as I had a laptop and a plane ticket I could live anywhere. Moving to Venice was the best decision of my life.
Q: When did your passion for antiques start?
My parents didn't have much money, but my mom had great style. She would scour the flea markets, thrift stores, and second-hand markets for fabulous finds from the past. One of her most prized possessions was the silver her grandparents- my great-grandparents- brought with them on the boat when they moved from England to America. I joke I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth- literally. We used the "good silver" every day because my mom's dad always said that there is no silver polish like the patina of daily use. My mom was a second-generation American. Meanwhile, my father's family fought in the Revolutionary War.
I moved to Europe 20+ years ago- first to Paris, then Amsterdam, then to Berlin, before moving to Venice three years ago - I brought the family silver with me and continue to use it every day. I've always seen antiques as another way of travelling; they take you on a voyage to other times and other places.
When I was young I would go with mom to garage sales and she would give me four quarters- $1- to spend. I was rich. For four quarters I could buy a Barbie doll, or a fantastic REAL teapot to play tea party with. I realised at a young age that you could get more for your money at garage sales. I never understood why I would buy new when there were such fabulous treasures for a $1. And more to the point- I could sell what I bought at a garage sale for the same price I paid! If I bought a new Barbie it immediately lost value and had the same value as the used one I purchased.
When I moved to Paris in my 20s with my then-husband, it was second nature to shop the brocantes and vide-greniers. I decorated my fifth-floor walk-up apartment with Paris flea market treasures. I was hooked. Bitten by the fleas.
Q: What prompted you to start your podcast, The Business of Antiques?
When people ask me what I do, I say "I'm in the business of antiques." My company, The Antiques Diva & Co, has always had a mission: to make antiques fun, sexy, modern, relevant, accessible, and PROFITABLE. Most of our clients in America are trade clients and buying for re-sell. If my clients sell well, they buy well, so I began giving clients tips on how to increase their sales. I realised quickly that most people who go into antiques go into the profession because they love antiques- NOT because they understand how to run a successful business.
I launched my Antique Dealer Training and Mentoring Program as well as our Antiques Diva marketing services. We help dealers to build websites, create marketing templates, and offer social media services. We introduce dealers to potential buyers to help them be more successful in their business. The podcast was developed to continue to support our audience and help them to make antiques more profitable.
Q: How do you unwind when you're not running your Antiques Diva Empire?
Pre-Covid I would have said hopping on a plane and going someplace warm and sunny, with a good book and a great spa. Post-Covid, it's simpler times. I live in Venice, so I take long walks in the fog in the early morning. I am learning Italian and take classes four days a week. My mouth is learning the acrobatics required to pronounce those Rs! I love to cook and always set a gorgeous table (even when dining for one). I read and write a lot!
I've been fortunate because even though gyms are closed throughout Italy due to Covid, my gym allows you to book private sessions so you have the entire gym to yourself and your trainer. I have weekly calls with my dear friend Gail McLeod- our head Antiques Diva agent in the UK and founder of Antique News and Fairs. Somehow, when you talk to a friend you feel like anything is possible. Friends and cats! Those are great solutions for unwinding. I have two cats named Fortuny and FIorella, and they are the naughtiest kittens in Venice- but also the most fun. I've trained them to walk on leashes so they go with me on my strolls. One of the nicest things about Venice at this time is that I have the city to myself. It's a magical experience to be alone in Venice.
Q: What's your favourite location for an Antiques Diva buying tour?
Ooo la la. That's got to be the most difficult question I am asked. I LOVE all my tour countries. It's got to be France. Paris prices are at rock bottom at the moment. Provence is always king... or shall I say, Le Roi! Britain also delights because of the wide variety of inventory. Many British dealers have become dear friends and understand the American market so well- even better than the Americans. I love Chaing Mai Thailand for sourcing antiques and Bali is also beyond wonderful. Mamma Mia... did I forget Sweden? How can you ask me to choose? This is like asking a mother to choose her favorite child.
Q: Do you ever get creative or writer's block?
This past year I took a break from blogging on antiquesdiva.com for exactly that reason. During the pandemic, I lost my vision and needed time to think about where we were going next as a company. I took the decision to take a step back from blogging for antiques and focus on blogging on my website for our parent company republicoftoma.com. Only now, one year into the pandemic, do I feel like I'm getting my groove back! In general, my solution for writer's block is to do something else entirely to "forget" about what I'm trying to do. Once I stop forcing it, the words come naturally.
My favourite thing is my desk. It's a desk for a Diva- a French 18th Century marquetry bureau plat, with the most gorgeous ormolu mounts with the faces of women on all four corners. It's feminine yet powerful and reminds me of one of my favorite quotes by Yasmin Mogahed. “Being both soft and strong is a combination very few have mastered.” It also reminds me of how I want to run my business and what type of CEO I want to be.
Q: What's your most treasured antique?
I mentioned my great-grandparents' silver earlier. My house is positively filled with antiques. But my favourite piece is my desk. It's a desk for a Diva- a French 18th Century marquetry bureau plat with the most gorgeous ormolu mounts, with the faces of women on all four corners. It's feminine yet powerful and reminds me of one of my favorite quotes by Yasmin Mogahed. “Being both soft and strong is a combination very few have mastered.” It also reminds me of how I want to run my business and what type of CEO I want to be.
Q: What would our readers be surprised to learn about you?
I only pretend to be a Diva. Really I am a farm girl. Growing up, I lived on a ranch 30 miles from the nearest town. I learned to drive a pickup truck when I was 12 and a tractor when I was 14. I love adventure and I love horses, but I don't ride dressage- I ride Western. Although I once played polo in Buenos Aires, and it gave me a new respect for the thighs of English-style riders! I've played polo in Buenos Aires and jumped out of aeroplanes. I've gone elephant trekking in Myanmar and learned to steer my own elephant. Contrary to what you might expect, guiding an elephant is NOTHING like guiding a horse!!!
Q: What's your go-to comfort food dish?
Mamma Mia. I may live in Italy, and I may have attended cookery school in Paris in my 20's, but when it comes to comfort food I am a true American. I am a rancher's daughter. Give me a really rare steak and fries any day and you've got a very happy girl!
Q: What has been your best lockdown purchase?
A: Okay this question makes me realise I've been seriously remiss. I don't think I've made any indulgences (other than too much wine) in more than a year. Come to think of it, my wine cellar may be the benefactor of my best lockdown purchases. I decided mid-Covid life is too short to drink bad wine. After our first lockdown ended in the summer, I went to my favourite wine shop in Venice- Cantine del Vino già Schiavi- and informed them I needed to learn about wine. Rather than me choosing the wines, I asked them to prepare some palette teasers for me. The next day they delivered 36 bottles, each with a special nuance I need to taste. I'm working my way through their recommendations in a self-study wine course.
Q: What makes your house your home?
A: I fill my house with objects from my travels. The word 'souvenir' in French means 'travel memories.' And that's what you will find in my home. Memories. Memories of places visited, people whose lives have intersected with mine. The architecture of life. My house becomes a home when it's filled with living things- my cats, plants, friends, family, and laughter. My home is about long dinners and late nights. Lazy mornings in bed. The smell of coffee in the morning.
"It feels like you're bursting out of winter when the asparagus season starts." We chat to Charlie Hibbert, head of all things food at the leading Cotswolds destination Thyme.
Q: Being a chef is a famously stressful career. How do you unwind?
A: An occasional lie in is a must. A walk with the dog, and a quiet meal - in or out - with my wife Molly. A Guinness never goes amiss too.
Q: Thyme grows a lot of its own food. What advice would you give to someone starting to grow their own produce?
A: I am about to start a little vegetable garden at home. It's best to start with a clear plan and not to overstretch yourself, you want to enjoy it rather than for it to become a chore.
Q: You left London for the Cotswolds. What do you miss about the city? What's the biggest perk of living and working in the countryside?
A: I miss the restaurants at your doorstep, the variety, and the quality. It's a real luxury having all of that available to you. The biggest perk of being in the countryside would be the space and quiet. It's nice to strike a balance, I appreciate London now I live in the Cotswolds.
Q: Which country inspires your cooking the most, outside of the UK?
A: European food culture is vast and fascinating, with variations of recipes scattered across the continent. Italy has a certain culinary romance, and I suppose that has a hold on me.
Q: What are you proudest of?
A: My family... but don't tell them that.
Q: What has been your best lockdown purchase and why?
A: I bought a workbench that has me scheming up all sorts of projects which will probably exasperate my wife. If that's too practical, I bought myself a new bespoke knife which I don't need and can't afford.
Q: What would our readers be surprised to learn about you?
A: I'm a huge racing fan, specifically F1. I suppose that's a guilty secret, as it's not very on-brand.
Q: What is your worst habit?
A: Incessant knee jiggling.
Q: Who would be your dream dinner party guest and why?
A: Someone fun... I would have loved to meet Anthony Bourdain, he would be a fantastic character to have at the table. Jamie Oliver would be great too, or even Stephen Fry. Could I have a table for 4?
Q: What makes your house your home?
A: Molly, Bonnie (the dog), and I have just moved into our new house. The process of filling it with our things, redecorating, and painting makes it feel like we have made it a home.
Q: Is your style minimalist or maximalist?
A: I think I lean closer towards minimalist. However, I take all my cues on style from my mother, Caryn. She has an amazing eye for detail and the vision to see what a room or house can be. I don't have that.
Q: What does your ideal Sunday look like?
A: My family has always loved to host, and that meant Sunday lunches with friends- outside in summer, by the fire in winter. Even when there are no guests over, preparing a lovely lunch is extremely enjoyable.
Q: You're walking the plank first thing tomorrow. What does your last meal entail?
A: It chops and changes... I think a plate of asparagus, with butter sauce, a poached egg, and parmesan. It feels like you're bursting out of winter when the asparagus season starts.
Gustavian style flourished in Sweden during the 18th Century. Inspired by the neoclassical French style, Sweden became major players in Europe’s age of elegance.
When discussing Gustavian design, the individual behind the name matters. King Gustav III reigned from 1772 to 1792 and oversaw and encouraged the flourishing of the arts.
The King was shot at a masquerade ball in 1792 and died a short while later. This event inspired Verdi’s opera Un Ballo in Maschera.
Although he was loved by some and hated by others, King Gustav’s role in the Swedish Enlightenment is clear. He was an educated and cultured man who welcomed artists and writers to court. Despite the pressures he faced at home and abroad, his reign saw huge advancements in art, literature and design.
Gustavian design fuses foreign influence with long-standing Scandinavian ideals.
In France, Louis XVI reigned during one of the most significant periods of French furniture design. His style was more refined than his predecessors, but maintained the opulence and grandeur. King Gustav spent a crucial period of time in Paris and at the royal palace in Versailles. This experience left him determined to make Stockholm the ‘Paris of the North.’
Today, Swedish design is generally associated with minimalism and muted colours. Much of Gustavian style did display these trends, but period pieces can actually be very splendid.
The entertainment rooms in palaces and noble houses during this period were full of gilded furniture and grand mirrors. At a glance, you might be in a French 18th Century palace.
Across Europe, design was influenced by the discovery of Pompeii and Herculaneum in the early 18th Century. Artistic concepts were completely overhauled by the exposure of this clean-lined elegance.
At Stockholm Palace, you can view King Gustav’s Museum of Antiquities to get a sense of his fascination with the classical. The museum displays a large collection of sculptures which the King brought back from his ‘grand tour’ around Italy.
The Pompeian style is evident in Gustav’s Pavilion at Haga Park. The interiors of the Pavilion feature marble columns and rich detail. King Gustav commissioned Louis Masreliez for the design, who went on to define the style of the period.
The impact of neoclassicism is clear in Gustavian furniture. The pieces are architectural in form and display symmetry, columns and carved detailing. The classical inspired Swedish furniture's trademark restraint, as it moved on from the elaborate rococo period.
Despite all of these influences, Swedish style is inherently… well, Swedish.
French 18th Century design had a huge impact on King Gustav, but the Gustavian interpretation was more refined. In fact, Gustavian furniture is a loyal tribute to Swedish ideals.
Swedish winters are long and dark, which still shapes their interior design to this day. The priority has always been to bring light into rooms, through pastel colour palettes, giltwood and plenty of mirrors.
Although the décor in palaces and noble houses was grand, Gustavian style became more homespun as it spread throughout Sweden. Often the carved frames of chairs and sofas were left exposed and the furniture was painted. Local woods were used such as oak, beech and pine.
Although Gustavian designs were simple, they were well-executed and designed for their purpose. Function was a priority and lots of corner cabinets and console tables emerged.
Shape and detail helps to identify the Gustavian: bonnet topped cupboards; barrel-backed chairs; fluted legs and carved decoration to name a few. Some of the most distinctive carved motifs are guilloche (woven circles), rosettes and scallop detailing.
So, why does this style have such a profound influence?
Even the most modern furniture store, IKEA, draws upon its Gustavian heritage. Interior designers constantly source antique and reproduction Gustavian pieces to transform homes with Swedish style.
The most obvious reason is that Gustavian furniture is easy to live with. It is equally suited to a grand London townhouse, a country cottage, a chalet or a villa. Curved lines and carved motifs make these pieces decorative, but the silhouettes and paintwork are simple.
There is also a certain magical quality to Gustavian period and style pieces. Furniture with its original paint gives a lovely fairy-tale finish, especially in a muted colour palette. It's feminine, but not overtly so. Gustavian pieces were often fairly small and mobile and they were meant to accentuate a space, not dominate it. This is a versatile style as a result, whether it's used in small doses or as an entire decorative scheme.
No Gustavian interior is complete without the iconic Swedish Mora clock, which is a piece as rich in history as it is beautiful. Mora clocks are a testament to community craftsmanship. In the early 18th Century, the town of Mora suffered a bad drought and many people fled to Stockholm. Here they would learn new skills and trades, including clock-making.
Upon their return to Mora, a local industry started as families worked together to manufacture these iconic clocks. Mora clocks radiate the quiet peace and grandeur of Gustavian style and have a beautifully rounded shape. A Swedish Mora Clock is often the finishing touch in a Gustavian inspired setting.
Gustavian furniture has a valuable place at Lorfords and Swedish pieces are always coming through our doors.
Browse Gustavian daybeds, sofas, chairs, Mora clocks and other antiques on our website or come and see them in person.
Our two hangars at Babdown Airfield and showroom in Tetbury give Gustavian pieces the space and context they need to do them justice.
Visit our lookbook, ‘Swedish Enlightenment,’ to view our selection of Gustavian furniture.
Toby Lorford, owner and managing director of Lorfords, had been commuting from London to the Cotswolds for years. By a slice of luck, he left London just in time to beat the stay-at-home order… Catch up on how he got on with an empty flat, several tins of Edward Bulmer paint and spare time on his hands to create a new living space for him, his partner Kate, and their dalmatian Florence.
For several years now, I’ve been living in London and commuting almost daily to Lorfords in Tetbury. Most mornings Florence, our dalmatian, looks at me as if to say…’Really? Have you seen the time?’ The commute was beginning to take its toll on all of us. So, sat at Charles de Gaulle after a great trip to Deco Off and the Paris flea markets, Kate, my partner, and I finally made the difficult decision to move back West. It would give us more time to work but also more time to travel. We began the slow process of packing and sorting – and looking for somewhere to live.
Swapping our spacious London house for a tiny studio flat that I’d maintained in Tetbury just wasn’t practical for us (not forgetting Florence). Luckily a friend offered me a larger flat – which also happened to be 50 yards from our antique shop on Long Street.
How lucky were we? Within a week of firming up the move, travel restrictions were imposed in Italy and the pandemic started to take hold in Europe. Just a week before the final moving date, stay-home orders were issued in the UK and we left London – packing and sorting far from finished, but everything thrown in a couple of lorries.
With lockdown restrictions in place my commute would no longer have been viable or acceptable. I also needed to ensure that I was as close to the business as possible to help guide it through the commercial challenges of the crisis. We made it just in time!
So, with an empty flat, an almost unlimited supply of paint (huge thanks to the wonderful Edward Bulmer Natural Paints) and a shop full of beautiful handmade furniture and antiques literally a stone’s throw away, we had some work to do.
Despite having to leave our lovely home in London we were excited by this opportunity and would like to share it with you – if you’re interested that is!
Over the next few weeks we’ll be showing you what we’ve done to the flat, the furniture, art and objects that we’ve chosen and explain why we’ve chosen them.
For now, I’ll leave you with the starting point… On removing the old carpets and sheet boarding to make the floorboards flat, we found the most wonderful layer of worn old paint across parts of the living room. Now those of you who know me will be well aware that my first love in antiques was for original painted English furniture. And my partner, Kate, is an artist whose passions and practice include found objects. We umm’d and ahh’d over spending hours hand-scrubbing the boards with white spirit and soap to preserve the texture and finish rather than sanding and overpainting.
Of course, the painstaking approach won! So here are our favourite sections of knackered floor… the canvas on which the room will be built… and a few hints at the layering of textures that will be coming to our new home on Long Street.
Did life exist before Mad Men?* It’s a question I’ve been pondering a lot since the peerless series faded to black for the final time (*answer: yes, but it didn’t look as good).
Critics may have focused on the internal machinations at the Sterling Cooper ad agency but, as we all know, the real star of the show was the sumptuous mid-century styled sets: Gorgeous eyefuls of caramel coloured interiors with sleek, sensuously curved furniture and desk lamps that deserved their own mini-series. Has there ever been a tv series so determined to make the viewer drool with couch envy? Of course our love of all things mid-century was already well established by the time Don Draper sparked up his first Lucky Strike. Hard to believe that it’s twenty years since furniture of the 1950s, ‘60s and ‘70s came in from the cold and started making serious headway in the style supplements and salerooms. Fashions come and go; nowhere is this more true than in the conjoined worlds of antiques and interiors, but, two decades on, mid-century is still here, stronger than ever. It remains the chic-style option it always was and, no longer hobbled by its former retroassociations, Mid-Century has taken its place alongside Art Nouveau and Art Deco as an established epoch in 20thcentury design history. Before you embark on a full Mad Men inspired home makeover, here’s my guide to the essentials of mid-century furniture, a style that remains as fresh and innovative in 2016 as it did half a century ago.
As the name suggests, the style dates from the middle decades of the 20thcentury, roughly from the mid-1940s to the late 1960s. Rather like Art Deco, the name was coined long after the period in question. When it first emerged, our parents and grandparents knew it as Contemporary, and as a decorative style it influenced everything from the shape of a sofa, a vase or a coffee pot to the pattern on a tablecloth. It was youthful, stylish and bang up to date, and that was exactly what people wanted. Every style comes with its cultural baggage and mid-century speaks of an era of confidence, one which looked ahead optimistically to a bright future of ever increasing economic prosperity with more money and leisure time to relax and enjoy life. Mid-century interiors were all about chic style and ease of living, and this was also reflected in the furniture. Small wonder it appeals to us so much today.
Deciphering the mid-century style can at first seem something of a challenge. Certainly not all modern furniture from this period will be in the mid-century style. Plastic inflatable furniture from the 1960s, for example, is definitely not mid-century (it would be an example of Pop design, in case you were wondering). As an illustration, let’s try this: At first sight a Danish rosewood and leather dining chair by Neils Moller seems to have very little in common with an American high-gloss white fibreglass Tulip chair by Eero Saarinen, yet they’re both hailed as mid-century design classics. So what’s going on? Well, I’d say what unites these seemingly unrelated chairs boils down to three things: simple, modern elegance, functional comfort and fine craftsmanship. In my view, it’s the mix of those three essential elements which is the hallmark of mid-century design. Mid-century designers had a dictum: Form follows function, in practice this meant no excess decoration or unnecessary flourishes. In less capable hands it’s a mantra that might have resulted in some very boring furniture. Fortunately for us, the generation of designers who followed it was one of the best the design world has ever seen. With the possible exception of the Regency period in the early 19thcentury, perhaps no other point in history has produced quite the same number of top calibre artists and designers as the 1950s and ‘60s: Charles and Ray Eames, Robin Day, Eero Saarinen, Harry Bertoia and scores more. Unlike the Regency period, however, when only the wealthiest could afford the best furniture, mid-century designers were driven by a mission to bring good design to the many rather than the few and embraced mass-production with the result that their designs are still relatively plentiful today and Amen to that. But the mid-century movement is more than a mere roll-call of designer names (nice though that is). The philosophy of good design available to all, which those great designers championed, was taken up by manufacturers at the more affordable end of the market, with many smaller factories producing good quality, well designed furniture within easy reach of the middle class. The names of most of these designers have mostly been lost to history but today, these pieces can be picked up at reasonable prices while still ticking all the boxes for style and quality.
After World War Two furniture designers began to move away from the hard lines and polished chrome of pre-war German inspired modernism towards a softer, warmer aesthetic. The great architect-designer Marcel Breuer led the way and others soon followed. The mood was for something more human, more organic and for this everyone looked north. Since the 1930s Scandinavian, especially Finnish, designers had developed a soft modernism, relying on wood rather than metal and drawing on their own native skills in cabinetmaking, producing designs that were simple, understated and elegant. This fitted the mood exactly and Finland, Sweden and Denmark moved centre stage, becoming the benchmark for the best of mid-century style. What we tend to think of as classic mid-century furniture, in rosewood or teak with soft, fluid curves and simplicity of form has its roots in 1940s and ‘50s Scandinavia. It wasn’t just the north that had a part to play in the mid-century look. The 1950s was a time of convergence in design, when Italian, French and British, as well as Nordic influences began to merge together, creating a style that was truly international in its outlook. But at its heart the mid-century style was solidly American. America in the 1950s was the powerhouse economy of the world with previously undreamt of levels of wealth and international influence. A new generation of young designers set out to reshape the look of modern America, pushing the boundaries of furniture design by experimenting with new materials and manufacturing techniques.
Harry Bertoia (1915-78) was born in Italy and moved to the USA in 1930. He studied at the Cranbrook Academy of Fine Arts near Detroit, Michigan and eventually became head of the metal working department at the academy. Bertoia brought a sculptor’s eye to his furniture designs, particularly in the series of wire mesh chairs he designed in the early 1950s. The Bird lounge chair, designed in 1951-2 for Knoll, has been described as looking like a piece of sculpture suspended in space. The chair, which was mass-produced but by hand rather than machine, was made by welding a sheet of metal mesh into shape and then welding it on to the wire legs.
Mid-century designers eagerly embraced the possibilities created by new materials like plywood and plastic. Eero Saarinen (1910-61) was particularly influenced by developments in the field of plastics. His Tulip chair was one of the first chairs designed with a single pedestal base and was revolutionary when it was introduced in 1956. A true Modernist, Saarinen’s chair was a solution to what he saw as the clutter of chair legs under a dining table. A design classic, the Tulip chair anticipates the Pop design movement of the 1960s by a good ten years and is every bit as striking today as it was when it was new.
Although America and Scandinavia drove the mid-century look, other countries produced significant designers whose work is highly desirable today. In Britain, William Plunkett (1928-2013) was a designer with a background in engineering who worked in a highly individual style. Like Harry Bertoia, he combined his engineering skills with a sculptural flair and created a series of elegant metal-framed seating that won many design awards.
An essential ingredient in the mid-century interior was lighting. Lighting has, of course, always had a practical use in the home but was now more closely integrated in the overall decorative scheme. The floor lamp, designed in 1950 by George Rispal is a highpoint in mid-century lighting design. The coolie shade and cylindrical shade provide task and ambient lighting respectively, while the strikingly organic form, inspired by the work of German-French artist and sculptor Hans Arp (1886-1966), means it works as a piece of sculpture every bit as much as a lamp.
Well designed, refined, slick without being cold, at times a little decadent but never camp and very grown up; the appeal of mid-century furniture is highly seductive and it’s easy to understand why, twenty years after its rediscovery, it’s in ruder health than ever.