Today's inaugural ceremony somehow just brought visions of songs from my childhood that represented the America I grew up to love. Here are some of my favorites that brought back a lot of great memories. Congratulations to President Obama!
At Seventeen
Poetry Man
Tin Man
Have You Ever Seen The Rain
The Sound Of Silence
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Faberge And Tiffany And Lalique? Oh My!
Artistic Luxury Exhibit
February 7, 2009 — May 31, 2009
Legion Of Honor Museum
San Francisco, California
Stan ParchinExhibition Explores Techniques & Rivalries of Three Famous Designers
This ticketed international loan exhibition that reunites nearly 250 opulent objects from the Gilded Age, on view at the San Francisco, California's Legion of Honor Museum from February 7-May 31, 2009. Lenders to Artistic Luxury... include Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, His Serene Highness Prince Albert of Monaco and public and private collections in London, Moscow, St. Petersburg, Paris, Berlin, Hamburg and the United States.
Meeting of Minds: The 1900 Paris International Exposition
Over 50 million visitors attended the Paris Exposition Universelle or World's Fair from April 15 to November 12, 1900. Some 60 countries presented 85,000 exhibitions that displayed the best of their artistic, cultural, scientific and industrial accomplishments. Innovations such as the escalator, wireless telegraph and first projected sound films were demonstrated. The Parisian cityscape was forever changed by the construction of various venues for the event, among them the Grand Palais, Gare de Lyon, Gare d'Orsay and Petit Palais.Three of the early 20th Century's greatest designers and their ateliers (studios) were represented together for the first and only time at the International Exposition: Peter Carl Fabergé (1846-1920) of St. Petersburg, Louis Comfort Tiffany (1848-1933) of New York and René Lalique (1860-1945) of Paris. The conservative designs of Fabergé, a jeweler, appealed to the British and Russian royal tastes while those of Tiffany attracted a much broader clientele. Lalique's avant-garde works were purchased by the cognoscenti of artistic and literary circles.
The Exhibition
Artistic Luxury... explores the three designers' sources of inspiration in historicism (the revival of popular motifs from the past), Art Nouveau and Modernism. The exhibition also examines each artist's development and how they responded to their clients' demands for sumptuous decorative objects. While their styles were unique, Fabergé, Tiffany and Lalique shared a common desire to transform everyday objects into splendid artistic creations for their sybaritic benefactors.
Highlights of the installation include:
* Easter eggs by Fabergé (including Imperial ones owned by Princess Grace of Monaco) and jewelry designed for the Russian tsars and their families;
* the stained-glass Magnolia Window by Tiffany and his studios (never before exhibited in the United States) as well as examples of the artist's Favrile glass vases and incomparable lamps;
* Lalique’s Art Nouveau designs for jewelry that incorporate stylized birds and insects, flora, mythical creatures and idealized female forms;
* Tiffany & Co.'s Adams Vase from The Metropolitan Museum of Art, the firm's star attraction at the International Exposition; and
* bronze sculptures of women metamorphosing into butterflies that adorned Lalique’s booth at the Exposition Universelle.
Fabergé, Tiffany, Lalique is the first comparative study of the work of the three greatest jewelry and decorative arts designers at the turn of the 20th century: Peter Carl Fabergé, Louis Comfort Tiffany, and René Lalique. Their rivalry found its stage at the 1900 World's Fair in Paris—the only exposition where all three showed simultaneously and where the work of each was prominently displayed. Some of their most elaborate designs for the Paris World's Fair are reunited for the first time in a gallery recreating the ambiance of this opulent international exposition. Looking critically at the development, design, and marketing of each firm, this exhibition explores how these designers responded to the demand for luxury goods in the years leading up to World War I.
Event Prices
*Adult $20.00
*Youth (13-17) $16.00
*Seniors (65+) $17.00
Event Hours
Sunday 9:30 AM TO 5:00 PM
Tuesday 9:30 AM TO 5:00 PM
Wednesday 9:30 AM TO 5:00 PM
Thursday 9:30 AM TO 5:00 PM
Friday 9:30 AM TO 5:00 PM
Saturday 9:30 AM TO 5:00 PM
To Learn More
Wyeth's Enchanted Isle
Betsy Wyeth’s Magical Benner Island, Off the Coast of Maine
From Architectural Digest
Text by Paul Theroux/Photography by Peter Aaron/Esto
Published June 2003
From May to October, Betsy James Wyeth—wife of painter Andrew— lives on and maintains Benner and Allen islands, several miles off the coast of Maine. Her main residence is on Benner, just across the channel from Allen, in the foreground, which holds more family dwellings.
A dock leads to Benner Island’s Oar House, far left, and outbuildings, which include a 19th-century grocery store that has become a freestanding library, far right. Andrew Wyeth’s studio, Wharf House, is second from right. Flanking the dock are the Fish House, left, and the Salt Shed.
The entrance of Oar House, whose slatted wood exterior has patinaed naturally under the island’s extreme conditions.
Shelves in an Oar House hall hold Wyeth’s collection of shells under bell jars. A nature lover (as well as a descendant of the poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning), Wyeth collaborated with her artist son, Jamie, in 1979 on a fictional children’s book about animals titled The Stray.
The dining area of Oar House, which Wyeth calls “my tempera,” contains items that she has collected over the years. A visitor once referred to the interior as looking “like an Andrew Wyeth,” to which the artist replied, “I think it looks like a Betsy Wyeth, myself.”
Having renovated an 1857 lighthouse on Maine’s Southern Island, which the couple inhabited from 1978 to 1990, Wyeth created her compound on Benner Island in a few years’ time.
A 1943 drybrush by Andrew Wyeth, Jack-in-the-Pulpit, hangs in the Oar House living area.
Wyeth, who once remarked, “I’m not easily tied down,” pauses on a swing in her barn on Allen Island, which she, Andrew and their two grown children frequent in summer.
A drawing by Jamie Wyeth of his father hangs in the bedroom/office of Oar House.
Influenced by formative years spent in a sparsely furnished Maine house, Wyeth has said, “I’ve liked to come home to orderliness because I am so chaotic underneath, so really wild that I really have to keep things in order. I’ve always done that.”
The Oar House bedroom/office.
In the Oar House dining area is Blue Barrel, a watercolor Andrew Wyeth did in 1989 of a scene in the Fish House, which his wife has turned into a small fishing museum, with old lobster nets and other nautical accoutrements.
The fish house.
A ramp leads to the Fish House.
The library still retains signs of its previous incarnation as a grocery store, with records of transactions and IOUs, one dating to 1842, written on the wood paneling. Wyeth placed a pair of sheep figures—a motif echoing throughout the compound—near the shelves.
Andrew Wyeth’s studio.
Wyeth constructed an octagonal building, Round House, where she archives her husband’s works (one of which, his 1995 Two If by Sea, depicts it).
A bronze casting of the artist’s hands rests on the table. The busts are of Thomas Jefferson and John Paul Jones.
A view of the 500-acre, spruce-filled Allen Island from the considerably smaller Benner Island. Wyeth acquired both islands shortly before she passed along Southern Island in 1990 to son Jamie. “It’s a pleasure,” Wyeth has said of her time so far on Benner. “It’s been a great pleasure.”
From Architectural Digest
Text by Paul Theroux/Photography by Peter Aaron/Esto
Published June 2003
From May to October, Betsy James Wyeth—wife of painter Andrew— lives on and maintains Benner and Allen islands, several miles off the coast of Maine. Her main residence is on Benner, just across the channel from Allen, in the foreground, which holds more family dwellings.
A dock leads to Benner Island’s Oar House, far left, and outbuildings, which include a 19th-century grocery store that has become a freestanding library, far right. Andrew Wyeth’s studio, Wharf House, is second from right. Flanking the dock are the Fish House, left, and the Salt Shed.
The entrance of Oar House, whose slatted wood exterior has patinaed naturally under the island’s extreme conditions.
Shelves in an Oar House hall hold Wyeth’s collection of shells under bell jars. A nature lover (as well as a descendant of the poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning), Wyeth collaborated with her artist son, Jamie, in 1979 on a fictional children’s book about animals titled The Stray.
The dining area of Oar House, which Wyeth calls “my tempera,” contains items that she has collected over the years. A visitor once referred to the interior as looking “like an Andrew Wyeth,” to which the artist replied, “I think it looks like a Betsy Wyeth, myself.”
Having renovated an 1857 lighthouse on Maine’s Southern Island, which the couple inhabited from 1978 to 1990, Wyeth created her compound on Benner Island in a few years’ time.
A 1943 drybrush by Andrew Wyeth, Jack-in-the-Pulpit, hangs in the Oar House living area.
Wyeth, who once remarked, “I’m not easily tied down,” pauses on a swing in her barn on Allen Island, which she, Andrew and their two grown children frequent in summer.
A drawing by Jamie Wyeth of his father hangs in the bedroom/office of Oar House.
Influenced by formative years spent in a sparsely furnished Maine house, Wyeth has said, “I’ve liked to come home to orderliness because I am so chaotic underneath, so really wild that I really have to keep things in order. I’ve always done that.”
The Oar House bedroom/office.
In the Oar House dining area is Blue Barrel, a watercolor Andrew Wyeth did in 1989 of a scene in the Fish House, which his wife has turned into a small fishing museum, with old lobster nets and other nautical accoutrements.
The fish house.
A ramp leads to the Fish House.
The library still retains signs of its previous incarnation as a grocery store, with records of transactions and IOUs, one dating to 1842, written on the wood paneling. Wyeth placed a pair of sheep figures—a motif echoing throughout the compound—near the shelves.
Andrew Wyeth’s studio.
Wyeth constructed an octagonal building, Round House, where she archives her husband’s works (one of which, his 1995 Two If by Sea, depicts it).
A bronze casting of the artist’s hands rests on the table. The busts are of Thomas Jefferson and John Paul Jones.
A view of the 500-acre, spruce-filled Allen Island from the considerably smaller Benner Island. Wyeth acquired both islands shortly before she passed along Southern Island in 1990 to son Jamie. “It’s a pleasure,” Wyeth has said of her time so far on Benner. “It’s been a great pleasure.”
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Catherine The Great's Coronation
Catherine the Great's Coronation dress at the Kremlin Armoury MuseumMy ongoing fascination with everything Romanov taught me details about Catherine the Great’s remarkable coronation in 1762. The book, Russian Imperial Style, by Laura Cerwinske, described the pageantry.
Catherine’s crown was made of 5,000 diamonds, hundreds of pearls and a 415 carat ruby purchased from a Chinese Emperor. Before placing the crown on her own head, Catherine had to travel from St. Petersburg to Moscow, the historical site of Russian coronations. The trip took 13 days and was made by sled. But, by sled in Romanov fashion. Catherine’s sleigh was a palace on runners! It contained a salon, library and bedroom all warmed by porcelain stoves. It had six windows and was wide enough for 8 people to pass abreast! Behind her sleigh was a procession of 19,000 horses and 14 large sleighs and 184 smaller ones carrying the royal court.
(drawing of a typical sled carriage exclusively for Russian royals)
Along the route to Moscow 600,000 sliver coins were tossed to the crowds lining the roads-perhaps a Romanov stimulus package?
Once in Moscow, she went to Assumption Cathedral and assumed the Diamond Throne which was embedded with 870 diamonds, 144 rubies and 129 pearls. Her 5 hour coronation was attended by Circassian princes, Mongol officer, Greek-Orthodox noblewomen, Mohammedan princes and kings and queens from the numerous lands of the Empires. A week of public feasts and weeks of private festivities followed. The result, Catherine the Great proved herself to be the most regal Russian monarch.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
The PBS Antique Road Show is a favorite in our home. The latest show aired was in Palm Springs, California. It's very exciting to watch the interviews as the appraiser questions the guests before they announce the big reveal.
The first appraisal is for a Joseph Stella Painting with Original Frame, ca. 1930. Below is the actual transcript of the interview by appraiser Peter Fairbanks president of Montgomery Gallery with the paintings owner.
GUEST: My husband was a student at Washington State University, and he had an art professor by the name of Clyfford Still. Then, as the years went by, he went on and got his doctorate and came back to Washington State. And the chairman of his department, they owned the painting, they gave it to us as a housewarming.
APPRAISER: Very generous of them. Very nice gift.
GUEST: Yes, it was.
APPRAISER: Very nice indeed. Good heavens. And what do you know about Clyfford Still? Did you follow his subsequent career?
GUEST: Well, we followed him for a little bit. He left Pullman and went back east, and at that time, we heard that he was a Guggenheim protege. Whether he was or not, I'm not certain, so...
APPRAISER: And this painting, as we can see, down here is signed and dated "Clyfford 37." And I believe there's actually some writing on the back. May I take this down?
GUEST: Yes.
APPRAISER: Just flip it over there. Can you perhaps tell us what it says here? Can you read this?
GUEST: It says, "To my friends, the Whiffens." And then it has his name and the date, '41. That's the date he gave it to the Whiffens.
APPRAISER: I must say, while we have the painting reversed, I was intrigued to see that the supports, the stretchers, are actually rather rudimentary. They're not the kind of stretchers you expect to see by a painting of such note as Clyfford Still. But anyway, it's held together over the years, so you must have done the right thing. Let me just put it back down.
GUEST: It's just as we got it. We haven't done anything to it.
APPRAISER: Right.
GUEST: And the subject of the painting is...?
GUEST: Grand Coulee during the time they were building the dam.
APPRAISER: Right. It's a big dam in the State of Washington. Which is, of course, near Spokane...
GUEST: Yes.
APPRAISER: where he grew up and studied and graduated.
GUEST: Right.
APPRAISER: He's best known as really one of the founders of the Abstract Expressionist movement.
GUEST: Right.
APPRAISER: He and Rothko and Franz Kline and de Kooning and Jackson Pollock. And Mark Rothko introduced him to Peggy Guggenheim.
GUEST: Yes.
APPRAISER: Who was responsible for his first one-man show in New York. This is an earlier work by him. This is from 1937, when he was still doing figurative work. Yes. Now, around about 1938 to 1942, he started to make that transition from figurative, representational work to more abstract art. And amongst the other artists, such as Kline and de Kooning, he was really the first to do that. He was ahead of them. They were still working in a figurative manner into the '40s. So he was a little ahead of the curve. Now, have you had this appraised before?
GUEST: No.
APPRAISER: And you need to have it appraised for what purpose?
GUEST: Insurance purposes. It's an insurance figure.
APPRAISER: Well, I really feel that given the importance of the artist, given the importance of this painting, I believe that this shouldn't be insured for anything less than half a million dollars.
GUEST: Really?
APPRAISER: Yeah. We have to put that in context. Bear in mind that a painting painted ten years later than this, in 1947, sold a few years ago for $21 million.
GUEST: Oh, really?
APPRAISER: That painting that made $21 million was a new benchmark for him.
GUEST: Yes.
APPRAISER: So, in fact, it may turn out that I'm being rather conservative when I say half a million.
GUEST: Well, but that gives us a basis of where to put our insurance.
APPRAISER: I don't think it should be anything less than that. It's a magnificent painting in its own right, and you can see the Expressionist palette already in the way that he applies the paint. I have to say, in all my years on the Roadshow, it's probably the most exciting find I've had.
GUEST: Oh, really?
APPRAISER: I'm absolutely thrilled that you brought it in today.
GUEST: Well, thank you.
APPRAISER: So thank you.
[end]
The next appraisal is for the Marilyn Monroe Dress from the Film, "Some Like it Hot". The appraiser is Beth Szescila of Szescila Appraisal Service.
GUEST: It's from Marilyn Monroe, and she wore it in the film Some Like It Hot. A friend of mine, Don Feld, who was a costume designer in Hollywood, gave it to me.
APPRAISER: Do you have any idea where Don got it?
GUEST: I don't know, but I assume he probably got it from Western Costume Company.
APPRAISER: You've brought some photographs of Marilyn actually wearing this dress in Some Like It Hot. The dress was actually created by Orry-Kelly, the Oscar-winning costume designer. He did a lot of clothing for Marilyn. He created the dresses specifically for her. And he would often actually sew her into the dresses to make them fit just right, to get that really sexy look. It's in black peau de soie, a material that's very similar to satin, with this wonderful fringe that gave her all the movement that she needed for her action roles. It's really amazing looking at this dress at how small it is.
GUEST: Yes.
APPRAISER: I think most of us don't realize that Marilyn was such a small person.
GUEST: Right-- I was surprised to see how small she was, myself.
APPRAISER: We have some identifying material on here. This seems to be the label from his collection, because it says "Don Feld" and it identifies the dress as having been worn in the movie. And then we have a label here with Marilyn's name on it. And with the pictures, you can easily see Marilyn in action, where she's wearing this dress and it's really fabulous on her. It's hard to believe that in the film, she danced around in this dress, because it was so tight on her...
GUEST: Right.
APPRAISER:...you couldn't believe she could dance around in it. Well, this is an iconic dress from an iconic film...
GUEST: Yes.
APPRAISER:...worn by one of the greatest sex symbols of the 20th century. In an auction, I would not be surprised at all if it went for somewhere between $150,000 and $250,000.
GUEST: Oh, my g... Whoa!
APPRAISER: And actually, with the unpredictability of the market for this type of item, it would not surprise me at all if it went much higher.
GUEST: Wow.
APPRAISER: I'm just going to be conservative here, because I don't want to get you too excited.
GUEST: I'm about ready to fall over.
APPRAISER: Oh, well, please don't.
GUEST: Oh, you made me very happy. I mean, it's great.
APPRAISER: Well, great.
[end]
The final appraisal is for a Tiffany Studios "Saxifrage" Candlestick, ca. 1905.
The appraiser is Kerry Shrives of Skinner Inc.
GUEST: This was a gift to me from some friends. They bought it, I think, like ten or 15 years ago at a garage sale, and they have had it in their bathroom ever since, and whenever I visit them, I've always admired it, and they gave it to me as a gift, which was really exciting, and I just love it. I think it's beautiful and delicate. This is pretty remarkable.
APPRAISER: And we can see from the bottom, it is made by Tiffany Studios in New York.
GUEST: I saw that. I didn't know if it was, uh... real.
APPRAISER: No, it is. There's a little applied plaque here with the Tiffany Studios New York mark. You can see as much on the base here as on the top. It has just a wonderful patination, the verdigris patination. Made out of bronze and probably dates from about 1905. Louis Comfort Tiffany and Tiffany Studios are really on the forefront of the Art Nouveau movement, and really is beautiful, elegant. I mean, it's a very organic form. The leaves are amazing in that each one is an individual leaf that emanates here from the base. So it's an incredible amount of work involved in that. It's not just sort of a, you know, a large cast base that has some detailing on it. But each piece is individual and unique.
GUEST: So those are individually made and then soldered together?
APPRAISER: Yeah. The stem is graceful and elegant. One of the things that attracted me the most is the decoration up in here, each of these is such a fine and delicate individual bronze wire there. It's beautiful. And then the top here, see where the candlestick comes in, cast with this great detail and design. Now, this is a particularly rare pattern. It's actually called a saxifrage pattern, something that just comes up very infrequently. At auction, if I were to estimate, one candlestick-- not a pair but just a single-- I would be looking probably in the $15,000 to $20,000 range. So... It was a very generous gift.
GUEST: Oh, my God. I owe them a big dinner in Paris.
APPRAISER: Big dinner, yes.
GUEST: Wonderful. Woo-hoo! Well, those are great friends.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
The Millionaire Fairs Continue In Spite Of The Global Economic Crisis
Departures Magazine is a Travel & Leisure monthly periodical published by American Express for its cardholders. There is also a website, Departures.com, for online viewing as well. In the latest issue, there was an article that reported the success of last November's Millionaire Fair in Russia. It went on to mention how the event seemed to grow each time since it first began 5 years ago with the first fair held in Amsterdam. The attendees come from all over the world.
In the Guardian, Luke Harding wrote about the fair. He noted that at the height of the economy, there were 110 billionaires in Russia, second only to the United States in number. Despite the fact that many have been downgraded below the billionaire status, they apparently, still have plenty of money to spend. Harding quoted Alexander Aivazov, who was in attendance this year, as saying "...we Russians have always got money hidden away somewhere, often in the refrigerator" The fair was also being held in Turkey. There, Istanbul expected to draw 15,000 visitors to the event. In an article from Overseas Property Investor, Rustu Barkay, a local executive, noted "...there are many luxury hotels in Istanbul which are now full, booked by guest who flew in on their private jets for this event. The reverberations and excitement for this event are actually bigger than they were for the Formula One races. Our expectations is that over four days, visitors to this trade fair will spend around $100 million while in the city. Including the volume of business that takes place at the trade fair itself, this figure will be closure to $500 million" The article goes on to indicate that the fair includes luxury goods such as limos, helicopters, one piece from the Faberge collection, homes and yachts. There was also coverage by ABC News on the illustrious affair.
Although Millionaire Fair is in its fifth year, I had no idea it existed. These stories left me wondering whether such events can continue to thrive in the wake of the current and increasing global economic crisis without the ultra rich leading themselves down a path similar to that taken by the European nobles of the past? Will such excess spark a modern day revolution in Russia, the USA or any other country? Let's hope not.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
California Open Auditions To Appear On Architectural Digest
Architectural Digest is holding an open audition on March 25th for designers that are interested in having their work appear in it's monthly magazine. This is a golden opportunity for designers to gain national recognition. The auditions will be held at Pacific Design Center located in West Hollywood,California. The event begins at 9:00 AM and is open to professionals and non-professionals alike.
Requirements:
• No more than two completed residential projects
• Photographs only (up to 8" x 10" no disks or transparencies)
• Photographs of each of the major rooms in the house (a maximum of two shots per room)
• Materials that can be left behind—they will not be returned
• Homes that are not currently for sale
• Homes that have not been published before
• Homes not under consideration at any other publication
(For More Details)
Obamas choose interior designer for White House
By LISA TOLIN, Associated Press Writer
WASHINGTON – The White House private quarters will be getting a Hollywood-style makeover.
Los Angeles-based designer Michael Smith has been chosen by first lady Michelle Obama to decorate the private quarters of the executive mansion, transition officials said Tuesday.
Michelle Obama said Laura Bush had been a "wonderful steward" of the White House and that the family looked forward to making the East Wing home.
"Michael shares my vision for creating a family-friendly feel to our new home and incorporating some new perspectives from some of America's greatest artists and designers," she said in a statement.
Smith has designed the homes of director Steven Spielberg, actors Dustin Hoffman and Michelle Pfeiffer, model Cindy Crawford and mogul Rupert Murdoch. He's known for using antiques in a way that feels modern and airy.
(Full Story)
WASHINGTON – The White House private quarters will be getting a Hollywood-style makeover.Los Angeles-based designer Michael Smith has been chosen by first lady Michelle Obama to decorate the private quarters of the executive mansion, transition officials said Tuesday.
Michelle Obama said Laura Bush had been a "wonderful steward" of the White House and that the family looked forward to making the East Wing home.
"Michael shares my vision for creating a family-friendly feel to our new home and incorporating some new perspectives from some of America's greatest artists and designers," she said in a statement.
Smith has designed the homes of director Steven Spielberg, actors Dustin Hoffman and Michelle Pfeiffer, model Cindy Crawford and mogul Rupert Murdoch. He's known for using antiques in a way that feels modern and airy.
(Full Story)
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Thrift Stores Thrive As Economy Tanks
By Ben ArnoldyCSMonitor
Alameda, Calif. – Americans are rediscovering the fusty fix-it shops and unassuming secondhand stores on their local Main Streets. These businesses, once the left-behind nooks of gentrifying downtowns, are busier than ever amid an economic slump that's emptied out neighboring bistros, boutiques, and day spas.
On a Saturday afternoon in downtown Alameda, Calif., Gabe Morgan waits in a line of customers at The Watch Hospital to get a timepiece fixed. The economic downturn has made him think more about repairing than buying new.
"For the first time in I don't remember how long, I got some shoes repaired," says Mr. Morgan. He dug out three pairs from his closet for resoling. "I wanted to save some money."
For decades, repair and reuse have been fading ethics, upheld mainly by environmentalists and people on the economic margins. As hard times drive these values back into the mainstream, champions of reuse caution that some government policies and business practices threaten to set back the movement.
"We were a mend-and-make-do society, and we have completely changed. We don't fix anything anymore. We use, throw away, and buy more," says Bruce Buckelew, a former IBM engineer who has repaired more than 30,000 computers and put them into public schools, nonprofits, and low-income households in Oakland, Calif. "The worse the stock market gets and the bleaker the job market, the better for reuse, actually."
Some early signs:(For complete article)
Monday, January 12, 2009
It's out with marble and chandeliers; in with polished limestone and glass
Economic reality is making companies think anew about design - and restaurants are among the most visible results
By: Stephen Bayley
The Observer
Sunday 11 January 2009
Blog
So, will it be like that symphony where, in the last movement, the musicians carry candles and walk off one by one, leaving only a percussionist to bong the final crack of doom? Are architects and designers shutting down their iMac studio displays and walking towards the horizon?
Actually, no. Times of constraint have historically stimulated architecture and design. The profession of consultant designer began in America's Great Depression when a team of cheerful opportunists led by Raymond Loewy, Henry Dreyfuss and Norman Bel Geddes persuaded consumers that life would not be complete without a streamlined, chrome wastebin, so America designed itself out of recession and back into consumerised prosperity.
But there will be changes in our expectations. Every so often, an academic article appears in the Harvard Business Review which attempts to show how fashions in women's hemlines (up or down) and men's facial hair (on or off) can be seen as measures of economic health. It's not pure science, but it's an interesting speculation. In moments of hardship, we feel modest. In periods of prosperity, we feel exuberant. Or, just possibly, it's the other way around.
Other economists argue that we only ever get changes in architecture and design after new sources of energy are discovered. Take a very long view of history and you'll see that's correct: wind, steam, coal, electricity, oil and atoms all have their expressions in great architecture and design movements.
But now that the energy is running out, what are we to make of the condition of architecture and design? The world is suffering from a mass psychogenic malaise: we have - for the time being - lost the future. So everyone everywhere is in psychological retreat.
Architecture and design, the practical arts, are much more closely related to the economy than music or novels. You don't need wealth to write a novel; history shows that poverty is a positive stimulus to literature. Yet the architecture and design of the last century can only be properly understood as the economy made visible. During America's pomp in the 1950s, the now stricken General Motors used to trail prospective automobile designs, known as "concept cars" no matter how empty-headed they might have been, at national roadshows called Futuramas. Alas, all our futuramas are now in the trashcan of history along with GM.
In postwar Italy, the ricostruzione (politically mandated reconstruction) gave architects and designers in Milan an opportunity to build and make new national symbols. The marvellous Vespa scooter is typical. It was actually designed to mobilise the lethargic workers, although its characteristic step-through frame was to allow women, priests and anybody else not wearing the trousers to mount the vehicle while retaining modesty. All that colourful plastic disegno of the 1950s and 60s was trade promotion via applied art.
The International Commercial Vernacular Glass Box (ICVGB) began when Lever Brothers, the detergent and edible fats multinational, built its green, glass headquarters on New York's Park Avenue in 1952. Unilever, as it is now known, is struggling and rumoured to be facing break-up.
Meanwhile, no one will regret the passing of the ICVGB, now facing a recession all of its own. Until very recently, it seemed absolutely proper that Rawleigh Warner, former CEO of Mobil, would travel the world in his bizjet with his architect as hand baggage, making sure that every filling station in every part of the planet looked absolutely identical. It was called "corporate identity". And at just the moment Mobil's ambitions had been realised, someone made the case for context, particularity, national identity and appropriateness.
We have had it with that version of corporate identity. So our straitened times will find their own expression in architecture and design. There is no better barometer of where we are than the restaurant. To mangle Brillat-Savarin's aphorism, tell me where you eat and I will tell you what you want to be. Eating out is a lesson in taste in both senses. Visiting a restaurant has always been as much a tutorial in interior design as it is gastronomy, although the two are closely related.
It was her horrified reaction to the grey rissoles and beige soup served in postwar British restaurants that inspired Elizabeth David to hymn the voluptuous colours and flavours of the south; her book Mediterranean Food was the result. Published the year before the Festival of Britain, Mrs David's book was more influential than the South Bank. It introduced Britain to Europe; little more than 10 years and Terence Conran's Habitat was selling the batteries de cuisine needed to make ratatouille and terrines.
Just the other day, Tony Schlesinger, owner of fast-food chain Spudulike, was showing me pictures of his latest shops and I started thinking how marvellous that such quality of design - bright and optimistic - is now in the factory outlet and shopping-mall mainstream. Spudulike will not win Pritzker Prizes for architecture, but its approach is evidence of changed basic assumptions.
But what of the uncertain future? Two nearly simultaneous London restaurant openings suddenly seem very significant, not for the food, but for what they tell us about our expectations in architecture and design. The first is Bob Bob Ricard, the second is Princi. Both are in Soho, an area that has been a restaurant laboratory for 200 years.
Bob Bob Ricard is the work of David Collins, the London-based Irish interior designer who is the darling of Madonna and all who sail with her. Collins is big-budget. He designed Restaurant Gordon Ramsay and is rightly admired for his glorious reworking of the Wolseley in Piccadilly, where his well-exercised preference for glitter, gilt and glazing suits the luxo-kitsch Viennese concept. But at Bob Bob Ricard, the stencil has shifted and blurred.
At street level, it is a bizarre combination of Norman Rockwell-style American diner with vinyl banquettes, plus terrazzo, perhaps from a Cannes fish restaurant, antiqued mirror ceiling, real as well as metaphorical brass. Something about it that made me write "Directoire" in my notebook. There are buzzers on the tables which light up numbers at the bar so your champagne order can be promptly served. It is opulent and a bit creepy. Downstairs is a crepuscular bar with dark-red leather booths.
Bob Bob Ricard has been fastidiously executed to the wrong plan. It feels foreign and weird, like putting chilli dipping on foie gras. Just around the corner is Princi, an all-day bakery and bar which is foreign, but feels right. After all, this is Soho. "Spirito di Milano" it says in the window. Princi is a concept lifted from Lombardy by Alan Yau. It was Yau's Wagamama (designed by John Pawson) that introduced us to communal, artisanal resto-cool. Princi takes it on.
It is airy, handsome and smart without being demanding. Furniture is by Poltrona Frau, uniforms by Armani. There is firewood made decorative and there are baskets. There is no applied decoration, but the materials speak for themselves: polished limestone, glass and rough-hewn pillars where you stand with a caffè. A contemplative water feature drips along one side of the room. Here - in design terms - is the elemental symbolism of earth, water, fire.
Restaurant consultant Nick Lander recently speculated that we will not be using the word "restaurant" for very much longer because it suggests levels of waste, redundancy, expense and frou-frou that are inappropriate. Princi offers a credible alternative.
Brillat-Savarin also said that eating is the supreme pleasure because it consoles you for the loss of all the others. That's true, but it would be unsettling today to eat in a complicated and expensive restaurant populated by burping customers with grease running down their chins and liveried flunkies chasing their 15 per cent. And it would be financial suicide to invest in one.
We may be more liberal about hemlines and facial hair, but we are becoming stricter about vulgar excess. It's a truly terrible moment for investors in gilt, chandeliers, marble and lacquer. And a great one for believers in good proportions, honest materials, modesty and decorum. Our home economy might needs be austere, but austerity does not have to be ugly or boring.
I promised myself never to use "zeitgeist" except ironically, but only one of the two restaurants mentioned here captures the spirit of the age. The great thing about our new constraints is that both mediocrity and excess are now intolerable. Quality in architecture and design will, however, make everyone better off.
By: Stephen BayleyThe Observer
Sunday 11 January 2009
Blog
So, will it be like that symphony where, in the last movement, the musicians carry candles and walk off one by one, leaving only a percussionist to bong the final crack of doom? Are architects and designers shutting down their iMac studio displays and walking towards the horizon?
Actually, no. Times of constraint have historically stimulated architecture and design. The profession of consultant designer began in America's Great Depression when a team of cheerful opportunists led by Raymond Loewy, Henry Dreyfuss and Norman Bel Geddes persuaded consumers that life would not be complete without a streamlined, chrome wastebin, so America designed itself out of recession and back into consumerised prosperity.
But there will be changes in our expectations. Every so often, an academic article appears in the Harvard Business Review which attempts to show how fashions in women's hemlines (up or down) and men's facial hair (on or off) can be seen as measures of economic health. It's not pure science, but it's an interesting speculation. In moments of hardship, we feel modest. In periods of prosperity, we feel exuberant. Or, just possibly, it's the other way around.
Other economists argue that we only ever get changes in architecture and design after new sources of energy are discovered. Take a very long view of history and you'll see that's correct: wind, steam, coal, electricity, oil and atoms all have their expressions in great architecture and design movements.
But now that the energy is running out, what are we to make of the condition of architecture and design? The world is suffering from a mass psychogenic malaise: we have - for the time being - lost the future. So everyone everywhere is in psychological retreat.
Architecture and design, the practical arts, are much more closely related to the economy than music or novels. You don't need wealth to write a novel; history shows that poverty is a positive stimulus to literature. Yet the architecture and design of the last century can only be properly understood as the economy made visible. During America's pomp in the 1950s, the now stricken General Motors used to trail prospective automobile designs, known as "concept cars" no matter how empty-headed they might have been, at national roadshows called Futuramas. Alas, all our futuramas are now in the trashcan of history along with GM.
In postwar Italy, the ricostruzione (politically mandated reconstruction) gave architects and designers in Milan an opportunity to build and make new national symbols. The marvellous Vespa scooter is typical. It was actually designed to mobilise the lethargic workers, although its characteristic step-through frame was to allow women, priests and anybody else not wearing the trousers to mount the vehicle while retaining modesty. All that colourful plastic disegno of the 1950s and 60s was trade promotion via applied art.
The International Commercial Vernacular Glass Box (ICVGB) began when Lever Brothers, the detergent and edible fats multinational, built its green, glass headquarters on New York's Park Avenue in 1952. Unilever, as it is now known, is struggling and rumoured to be facing break-up.
Meanwhile, no one will regret the passing of the ICVGB, now facing a recession all of its own. Until very recently, it seemed absolutely proper that Rawleigh Warner, former CEO of Mobil, would travel the world in his bizjet with his architect as hand baggage, making sure that every filling station in every part of the planet looked absolutely identical. It was called "corporate identity". And at just the moment Mobil's ambitions had been realised, someone made the case for context, particularity, national identity and appropriateness.
We have had it with that version of corporate identity. So our straitened times will find their own expression in architecture and design. There is no better barometer of where we are than the restaurant. To mangle Brillat-Savarin's aphorism, tell me where you eat and I will tell you what you want to be. Eating out is a lesson in taste in both senses. Visiting a restaurant has always been as much a tutorial in interior design as it is gastronomy, although the two are closely related.
It was her horrified reaction to the grey rissoles and beige soup served in postwar British restaurants that inspired Elizabeth David to hymn the voluptuous colours and flavours of the south; her book Mediterranean Food was the result. Published the year before the Festival of Britain, Mrs David's book was more influential than the South Bank. It introduced Britain to Europe; little more than 10 years and Terence Conran's Habitat was selling the batteries de cuisine needed to make ratatouille and terrines.
Just the other day, Tony Schlesinger, owner of fast-food chain Spudulike, was showing me pictures of his latest shops and I started thinking how marvellous that such quality of design - bright and optimistic - is now in the factory outlet and shopping-mall mainstream. Spudulike will not win Pritzker Prizes for architecture, but its approach is evidence of changed basic assumptions.
But what of the uncertain future? Two nearly simultaneous London restaurant openings suddenly seem very significant, not for the food, but for what they tell us about our expectations in architecture and design. The first is Bob Bob Ricard, the second is Princi. Both are in Soho, an area that has been a restaurant laboratory for 200 years.
Bob Bob Ricard is the work of David Collins, the London-based Irish interior designer who is the darling of Madonna and all who sail with her. Collins is big-budget. He designed Restaurant Gordon Ramsay and is rightly admired for his glorious reworking of the Wolseley in Piccadilly, where his well-exercised preference for glitter, gilt and glazing suits the luxo-kitsch Viennese concept. But at Bob Bob Ricard, the stencil has shifted and blurred.
At street level, it is a bizarre combination of Norman Rockwell-style American diner with vinyl banquettes, plus terrazzo, perhaps from a Cannes fish restaurant, antiqued mirror ceiling, real as well as metaphorical brass. Something about it that made me write "Directoire" in my notebook. There are buzzers on the tables which light up numbers at the bar so your champagne order can be promptly served. It is opulent and a bit creepy. Downstairs is a crepuscular bar with dark-red leather booths.
Bob Bob Ricard has been fastidiously executed to the wrong plan. It feels foreign and weird, like putting chilli dipping on foie gras. Just around the corner is Princi, an all-day bakery and bar which is foreign, but feels right. After all, this is Soho. "Spirito di Milano" it says in the window. Princi is a concept lifted from Lombardy by Alan Yau. It was Yau's Wagamama (designed by John Pawson) that introduced us to communal, artisanal resto-cool. Princi takes it on.
It is airy, handsome and smart without being demanding. Furniture is by Poltrona Frau, uniforms by Armani. There is firewood made decorative and there are baskets. There is no applied decoration, but the materials speak for themselves: polished limestone, glass and rough-hewn pillars where you stand with a caffè. A contemplative water feature drips along one side of the room. Here - in design terms - is the elemental symbolism of earth, water, fire.
Restaurant consultant Nick Lander recently speculated that we will not be using the word "restaurant" for very much longer because it suggests levels of waste, redundancy, expense and frou-frou that are inappropriate. Princi offers a credible alternative.
Brillat-Savarin also said that eating is the supreme pleasure because it consoles you for the loss of all the others. That's true, but it would be unsettling today to eat in a complicated and expensive restaurant populated by burping customers with grease running down their chins and liveried flunkies chasing their 15 per cent. And it would be financial suicide to invest in one.
We may be more liberal about hemlines and facial hair, but we are becoming stricter about vulgar excess. It's a truly terrible moment for investors in gilt, chandeliers, marble and lacquer. And a great one for believers in good proportions, honest materials, modesty and decorum. Our home economy might needs be austere, but austerity does not have to be ugly or boring.
I promised myself never to use "zeitgeist" except ironically, but only one of the two restaurants mentioned here captures the spirit of the age. The great thing about our new constraints is that both mediocrity and excess are now intolerable. Quality in architecture and design will, however, make everyone better off.
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