OBSESSION DU JOUR: BLACK FLOORS, de MENIL STYLE

Last October I took a tour through Virginia and one of the little treasures that came home with me was a copy of the book The Finest Rooms in America by Thomas Jayne.  I picked it up in the museum shop at Jefferson's Monticello, where it is stocked as it features in its pages the great house's tea room.  But the content of the book is not entirely historical: Jayne, who worked for the noted Parish-Hadley firm, has culled a collection of exemplary rooms ranging from the colonial to the contemporary.  And though in perusing his selections, I am not entirely in agreement that all of these rooms warrant inclusion as being among the very finest, I will say many of them still are or come very close.  Which brings me to my obsession of the moment ... black floors.

One of the interiors included is the de Menil house of Houston, Texas.  It's the former home of the late John & Dominique de Menil, who immigrated from Paris to the U.S. during the Nazi occupation of France and eventually settled in Houston - to oversee a petroleum services empire and otherwise amass a breathtaking art collection in excess of 17,000 pieces.  And in the process probably drop the biggest chic-bomb the state of Texas has ever seen.  It's delight

The couple commissioned Philip Johnson to build their residence there in the International style, and they hired the fashion designer Charles James for its eclectic decorative program - though I am assuming the artwork was always consistently rotated at the de Menils' direction.  Apparently though when the house went up in 1950, it might as well have been 1850 for the ensuing reception of bewilderment.  A New York Times article on the house quotes Houston architect Anderson Todd: ''Most people in Houston knew nothing about Philip Johnson or Mies van der Rohe or Le Corbusier. This wasn't a house -- it was a dental office or a Laundromat.'' 

The results probably do warrant inclusion among the finest rooms in America, but today it is that black floor that I am in love with in particular.  The flooring is described as glazed black Mexican tile, but I'm curious as to whether it was the specification of architect Johnson or designer James?  Apparently Johnson - who preferred strict Modernism in furnishings - was outraged with James' decidedly eclectic and voluptuous treatment of the interiors.  Funny how it's the one thing that really could have been from the hands of either of the two opposing polarities...

The de Menil living room: my apologies to Siegfried & Roy, but really, this is the best use of a White Tiger.  For interior purposes anyway.

I'd have to say that's a Magritte over the piano.  When the artist visited Houston, the de Menils arranged for some students to escort the artist to the rodeo.  How surreal is that?

Probably a pretty comfortable nook to cuddle up and shop the auction catalogs...

Of course these rooms would likely be equally stunning with a variety of other floor coverings, but as we all know (and I cannot seem to stop thinking about lately), it is black that really does make a terrific, appearance-enhancing backdrop.  And here I am also brought to mind the soft black walls Rosamond Bernier chose to offset her own remarkable art collection as well.  And so we know this so well, but sometimes its just very nice to be arrestingly reminded of the fact, in practice and not in theory...   

Enjoy!

- a.t.s

The Finest Rooms in America: 50 Influential Interiors from the 18th Century to the Present is available through Random House : www.randomhouse.com

BRITISH PATHÉ: CHRISTIAN DIOR FUR SHOW IN LONDON (1969)

Ordinarily I wouldn't mind the unseasonably warm weather we've been having.  But you know, I'm "between sizes" right now (which is too say a little too chunky for the slim-tailored shirts that make up the better part of my closet), and I was really counting on hiding under sweaters and coats until at least April.  Guess I'd truly be distraught if I had a new coat from this (unbelievably groovy) Christian Dior fur show from 1969, as reported in a wonderful vintage British Pathé newsreel.  Swoon! 

There is so much here to celebrate:  that Sixties sense of chic, the use of white to enhance the stage presence of the coats, the groovy electric organ music ("if the coats didn't send the customers, the music certainly did..."), and of course all that odd, playful period modeling that seems (sadly) almost unfathomable today.  Frankly, I am living for all the synchronized "jigging about," especially in a chinchilla cape! 

I've written a little bit about Sixties style modeling before on The Social Design -specifically I think on a scene from a '68 Ungaro show used in the Catherine Denueve film Manon 70.  I wish I had a better grasp of the vocabulary of choreography, dance, and movement -  but to me there really is something paradoxical about the dominant modeling expressions of the time that both bewilders and entrances me.  It seems they sought to simultaneously exaggerate both the lines of the clothes and also the terrific sense of movement and freedom of the age.  The result is a recurrence of stiff, stylized postures that work quite well for print editorials (and here I definitely have Peggy Moffitt on the brain) but when applied to the movement of runway come off, well, a little bit bizarre...

It sort of calls to mind some observations I once read in a feature on the Audubon-inspired painter Walton Ford and how there is something distinctly unnatural in the naturalist Audubon's work,  because he was in fact not working from live models but rather from "freshly shot birds pinned into macabre dioramas."   Well, Dior isn't using dead birds but rather ballet dancers - and to great effect in my esteem.  And in my amateur musings on the Sixties modeling milieu I am probably discounting the influence of popular dance anyway. I will also add that Geoffrey Beene, a designer of great intellect, often cast dancers for models in his shows as well.

I wholeheartedly invite anyone with an opinion on Sixties modeling to chime in, or Sixties fashion for that matter (but really, I'm not so interested in the anti-fur sentiments)...

Enjoy!

THIS IS THE BLOGGING OF THE FRIDGE OF AQUARIUS...

Sometimes don't you just think you'll fall asleep if you see another stainless steel kitchen appliance?  Of course the greatest threat of such an acute and décor-triggered case of narcolepsy is hitting one's head on an equally ubiquitous granite counter top.  Last month I had to replace my old refrigerator and found the choices wanting: black or white (which apparently in any other form I love) and of course good old stainless steel.  It brought to mind the Eighties when I thought it was beyond stylish to have commercial grade stainless in the kitchen, especially glass-doored refrigeration units.  Clearly a far cry from the dulled-silver hell that constitutes the American middle class kitchen of today.

Of course what I really wanted was a mustard yellow fridge: please do think sunny Provence and please do not think Harvest Gold - although we did just watch Super 8 and were charmed to see its inclusion in the period kitchen sets. (Still, I am short
a macramé owl hanging to really pull it off...)  What I actually did end up getting was yet another stainless steel model - because, simply, neither black nor white worked with the existent scheme and the last thing I wanted to do was initiate a domino chain of kitchen redecorating.  Stainless steel really is nothing if not neutral. Yawn...

I guess I just didn't know that what I really ought to have done was this: travel back in time and pick myself up a "Match Your Mood" number from Westinghouse! 

I hope you enjoy this most compelling promotional film, one that vividly illustrates the decorative benefits of the company's "Complete Refrigerator," circa the late Sixties.  You'll see it starts off slow and moody as Young Mrs. Homemaker contemplates the winter landscape.  But then, like all groovy things, the electric organ kicks in.  And although it's not documented in the film, perhaps she's paid a call to her M.D. on the way home, since from the looks of her abrupt bout of uncontrolled shake dancing and home decorating, I myself am led to believe she's just gotten a needle of B12 and speed in her butt.  And then soon enough everyone's joining the party.  You will have, too, before all is said and (re)done...

Well, it's a terrific blast from the past - great visual and musical fun.  But on a realistic note, it's a good reminder of what Interior Design can and should be: a world of stimulating customization, a world of expression and license.  Face it, no one gets into the trade for the thrill of spec'ing one of three standardized finishes.  And I think this is one of the reasons I am so often keen on Sixties design - it really oozes optimism, possibility, and a certain kind of freshness and freedom - virtues which are always in style, if you ask me.  And there's something that's definitely out for 2012, and that's neutrality.

And as a matter of fact, I really do want a Mrs. Robinson zebra-striped fridge to match my Mrs. Robinson zebra-striped shift.  More than you know...

Enjoy! xo

Westinghouse ... "The Complete Refrigerator"