Tuesday, May 8, 2012

An extraordinary man

"Where the hell did that come from," I said. The Celt didn't reply though I did get a quizzical look. He knew I hadn't been referring to the a cup of coffee he'd just handed me and he's learned, after more than thirty years of watching me gaze with horror into the chasm, the Slough of Despond, that is early morning, to let me get on with my daily rebooting and go his own cheerful way. Like one of Jesus' Little Sunbeams in the early morning, is the Celt, whereas I ... well, the horror of it all.

What I was referring to was Don McLean's American Pie running through my head. A song, or poem, a hit from the early 70s, I'd not thought or heard of in years and one perhaps emblematic of my generation - a threnody, if ever there was one, for lost youth and times gone by. I've done a lot of that recently - looking back at the milestones - perhaps it is my age, the fact that I'm retired and the death of someone to whom I should have been closer than I was. Whatever the reason, a backwards glance is the rasion d'être of this blog - nostalgia threads its elegiac way throughout all I have written.

As I mentioned in the previous post, occasionally I receive personal reminiscences - each a milestone in its way - of the men I've written about over the past year or two: that generation of decorators and designers lost, predominantly, to AIDS in the 1980s and 1990s. Towards the end of last year I was surprised and pleased by a comment, a memory vivid and personal from TS. Surprised because it was on a post from September 2009, and pleased because it coincided with my recurring thoughts about Geoffrey Bennison, one of the men with whom, unthinkingly, I began my series about those I've called a lost generation. Bennison's name is remembered still, both as a purveyor of textiles, and also by those of us who appreciate his eye, his style and his wit. As a previous commenter said, it makes one wonder why there isn't a book about Bennison's work.


"I sold to Bennison, he got his talent from being a very good artist, which is why he stands out from the other decorators. He used to dress up in womens outfits on a Friday night and hitch hike down to his flat in Brighton. In London he lived in a top floor flat ............ and he had a pair of binoculars at the window and bought off me in the street far below, by shouting 'turn it upside down, right, show me the front and what's the best price?' Extraordinary man - I miss him. TS"


The idea of Geoffrey Bennison, the grandest of decorators, in a skirt, heels and a wig thumbing a lift on a Friday evening is, to me, the stuff of legend and, undoubtedly, a source of consternation and, possibly, joy to many a kind motorist, the lorry-drivers, the rough trade, and other denizens of the lay-bys of the road to Brighton. An image I cannot get out of my head and one that trumps even these grandest of Parisian rooms decorated by Bennison in Le Goût Rothschild.


If you would like to see how extraordinary a decorator Geoffrey Bennison was, click on his name in the side-bar Labels. In my opinion, one of the best decorators of his generation, Bennison, whether working in Rothschilds' houses or working in his friend's London terraced house he remained extraordinarily human as the tale above shows.


I've written about a number of extraordinary men and their connections over the past two years - threads, really, of a larger pattern that shines brightly in my mind's eye but which still needs to be woven - and now I have the time to do so.



Photographs by James Mortimer from The World of Interiors, July/August 1983






26 comments:

  1. Bennison ranks high in my list of those few who could give such vitality to a formal interior. The Rothschilds' Manhattan apartment, quickly put together in the 80s when it was thought the Socialists might make necessary a quick departure from Paris, remains one of my favorites in terms of a sumptuous night time space.

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    1. The Devoted Classicist, thank you. I have photographs of that New York apartment, I think. Bennison's last design work I think. I shall look them out.

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  2. I have always been fascinated by Bennison's use of pattern and color. That the eye rests on the neutral colored sofas and then continues to move around the room is -well- painterly. In a word: beautiful.

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    1. Daniel James Shigo, thank you. Interesting word you use "painterly" for Geoffrey Bennison trained as an artist at the Slade School of Art before he became ill with tuberculosis. One of my favourites, Mr Bennison.

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  3. I've also wondered why there wasn't a book on Bennison - and not just any book but a great book.

    But is there anyone out there -- except, perhaps, for Martin Wood -- who could write it? I doubt it. (Bennison would be lucky to find his own Chester Jones.)

    P.S. I also wonder how many of those spectacular Bennison rooms are still intact? I suspect only some.

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    1. The Ancient, thank you. It was you, I think, who is the "previous commentator" I mention as having written that about the book. I would like to think of Chester Jones as the author. Martin Wood, excellent author, has problems with his images and quality of colour reproduction.

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    2. I just realized that I have no idea at all what Bennison himself looked like -- no matter how he was dressed.

      Also, there is at least one other name I can think of to write an appreciation of Bennison's work. If John Richardson will oblige by living long enough, and finish off his Picasso biography, he could easily dash off a memoir/appreciation to accompany the definitive collection of pictures. He knew Bennison from their days at school together, and he knows enough about design and decoration, etc. (Besides, after the Picasso he will need a change of pace. Just as the Greeks had a tragedy followed by a short satyr play!)

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  4. This will have to do until the book comes out. Thanks so much.

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  5. ArchitectDesign, thank you. There are some more photographs of a NY apartment he did from the same period but they are for a later post.

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  6. An antique dealer in the West Country-Exeter in Devon, told me that Bennison,who was well known for wearing a long-haired wig, would put fake dandruff on his shoulders to complete the
    authenticity of his look!

    The dealer never mentioned the cross-dressing..

    Best

    Herts

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    1. Anonymous, Herts. Thank you. I think I might have liked Geoffrey Bennison a great deal.

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  7. Glad to see this exuberant affirmation of the time to weave the pattern. I know it will be a contribution of considerable light, and will rightly expand respect for the talents of its subjects. But I'd probably settle just for the sight of a benign personal project being handsomely fulfilled.

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    1. Laurent, thank you. That saying "one door closes, another opens" has always irritated the hell out of me but just maybe... just maybe..

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  8. For once, The Ancient seems to have got it wrong when (in his first comment) he yearns to have Chester Jones write a book about Geoffrey Bennison. Anyone who's read the Colefax and Fowler book should know that 85% of the text was cribbed from John Cornforth's earlier work, The Inspiration of the Past, in fact whole paragraphs were lifted and only moderately revised. Chester Jones is a marvelous designer but he is not an author. John Richardson, on the other hand, could do a book on Bennison with real authority~if his essay in House and Garden is any indication of his understanding of the subject.

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    1. Toby --

      Perhaps I was unclear. That's just what I meant about Chester Jones.

      (Conforth's book -- for which Kinsey Marable charged me a small fortune many years ago -- is a treasure.)

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  9. Toby Worthington and The Ancient, thank you both.

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  10. Dear Ancient, we've simply got to stop meeting like this, using Blue's
    blog like a hotel assignation!
    All I meant to say is how rare it is, to encounter good writing in books
    about design and decoration. All evidence points to a minefield of
    apocryphal tales, warmed over anecdotes and fatuous pronouncements.
    Martin Wood's books on Nancy Lancaster and on John Fowler were welcome contributions in terms of illustrating what other, more accomplished writers (Robert Becker, John Cornforth) had outlined with greater precision. It isn't enough to have enthusiasm for one's
    subject. A discriminating author will get beyond the clichés and half
    truths. Perhaps the subject itself, i.e, interior decoration, is by its very nature slippery. Yet there are fine examples of intelligent text
    in recent books on David Easton (Annette Tappert, text) and David
    Mlinaric (Mirabelle Cecil, text) and Maison Jansen (James Abbott, text) so we know that it can be done.
    The author of Blue Remembered Hills, if provided with a generous
    grant, could do a beautiful job on a subject like Geoffrey Bennison.

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    1. Toby Worthington, thank you.

      See comment below.

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  11. File this under: Immediate Antidote to Overly Neutral Interiors. Use to quell uneasiness created by all white rooms and burlap used for upholstery and that seeming innocuous but overly hostile everyone needs to be the sameitis.

    Perhaps Professor Blue should right this wrong and write this book.

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    1. home before dark, thank you. I think I've seen burlap used as upholstery for the last twenty-five years - on two continents - and it has never impressed me on jot. There are a few projects in hand and a judicious weeding is called for.

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  12. Gentlemen, you're welcome to tryst chez Blue Remembered Hills any time the fancy takes you for as you know what happens in the BHR stays in the BHR.

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  13. His apartment for Isabelle Goldsmith is one of my favorite designs ever. I think it may have been his last. I seem to recall that she had to pick some paint colors, and that he died while working on it. Brilliant designer. Renzo Mongiardino is another favorite. His book is amazing--the way he extrapolated his painted room designs from tea pots!! Genius.

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