Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Times change

"Blue, prepare to have your socks knocked off at Kips Bay ..." wrote a commenter last week about my misgivings after visiting the Atlanta Symphony Show House, and I must admit I went to the Kips Bay 41st Annual Decorator Show House with a certain anticipation which was, to a degree, repaid. 


There always is, or should be, excitement about seeing who is doing what in show houses, and from that point of view Kips Bay did not disappoint, though my socks were not, as threatened blown off. The kitchen was superb, but show house kitchens always are, and the dining room a marvel of art, decoration, atmosphere, and practicality. In place of an actual sideboard a deconstructing bronze sculpture based on the form of a sideboard, that made me wish it was a sideboard – a superb piece that I wish I could have photographed. Above the table hung a tree branch and writhing neon pendant that was the best of its kind. I'm not really sure how the room would work for a few old fogies who need more than atmosphere to light their ways to the cognac, but I'll forgive that.

High-gloss, saturated color was much in evidence, as was the ongoing love-affair with 50's and 60's Italian furniture, and the strained-thru-SoCal 70's flea-market upgrades, though there was, that I saw, thankfully nary a rumor of Eames. Yet the neutral room persists: white on cream, white on beige, white on white, white on wood, white on tedium. Really? Still? 

Photography was not permitted so in writing this I am working on what I remember four days afterwards. Robert Brown's room, the first (I am told) at Kips Bay by an Atlanta decorator and literally the first room which one saw – or rather could have seen had it not been used for ticket sales and queueing – sadly as a result doesn't stand out, as it should, in my memory. Brown is a excellent decorator who, in my opinion, was underserved by the show house for, clearly, if a decorator earns a place that place should be respected and not be screened from view by a queue of ticket buyers.

Two adjoining rooms upstairs, the connecting doors carefully kept closed, were, for me, the yin and yang of the show house – one, a bedroom, an anachronism, a throw-back even, (remember, personal opinions here) by the West coast decorator presently masquerading as Ingres' Grande Odalisque in a Bath Towel in advertisements for Scalamandré, and the other an appreciation of the cool, friends–with–benefits sophistication of modern life. This is not to say I disliked either room – quite the contrary, in fact – but their juxtaposition set me thinking about the modern producers of mass-taste, those connections between decorating, TV and licensing.

At the top of the house, opening on to a beautiful roof terrace and with carp-filled pool, a luminously spacious family room with its lavender and grey coloration, silver blown-glass logs in a steel and mirror firebox below a big-assed TV, was the favorite despite that most repellant of furnishing textiles, a hair-on-hide rug.

Licensing is a topic of significance that I shall wait to tackle more fully in another post – when I'm not sitting here, thoroughly bad-tempered, impatient, woozy, and hacking and wheezing from the worst airplane cold I've ever had. I will say, however, that a few years back I saw, and I wish I'd kept it, on the back of a very old Architectural Digest, a pattern that was at the time being marketed as a design, recolored for modern times, by a well-known interior decorator. Call me naive if you wish, but I was shocked at it. I remain shocked when I think of how fabric houses and furniture manufacturers are pushing out collections of quite ordinary and derivative collections distinguished only by the celebrity name on the label. How we got here is worth considering – some other time.  

No, I didn't come away de-socked from Kips Bay, was never breathless from excitement – from the stairs, yes, certainly – and to be candid was underwhelmed by a couple of big names. Subtlety to the point of tedium or invisibility is not for me. I thought, though, as also a friend texted me to say, that these are not the grand old days of Buatta, Hampton and Parish-Hadley. Perhaps that is not a bad thing. Times change. 


But not always for the good. Though it happened months ago, it was only this weekend that I learned, heartbreakingly, that Archivia Books has closed. It occurred to me as I stood there, amazed that this beautiful shop has gone, that I am part of the problem. How proud I have been of saving money by going to Amazon to buy books when clearly if I have the money to buy such books I could afford to pay full price. Why would I? Look at the desolation above and wonder if keeping a local business going is worth it. 

Times change, indeed.


For photographs of some of the rooms go here

14 comments:

  1. As someone said, "Evolution is not always elevating." But the "Blue Quotes" keep rocking: "tree branch and writhing neon pendant that was the best of its kind" (I don't know what that mans but I'm getting some kind of image) "white on tedium" "Subtlety to the point of tedium or invisibility"

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Terry, thank you. Twigs and christmas tree lights are the usual variation and it was good to see a variety that actually worked and didn't make me afraid of what the fire marshal might do - if he recovered from the shock.

      Delete
  2. "White on tedium" is a tendency I was exploring, myself, in a posting of the same evening, on herdings of taste in other settings wracked by mass media; so one has to contribute anonymously, to avoid self-referral. The assassination of local business by obeisance to what we hail as free market principles floods us all with sorrow in retrospect; only this week I received a heartfelt confession from an inmate at Chicago's Booth School of Business, on how the 'free market' delights him with its resonances of 'democracy'. It's the "stuff happens" religion of Donald Rumsfeld, toward the distribution of antiquities when the Mesopotamian museum was sacked in his unregulating care. It's the lewd shield of the "LLC" for the scavenging opportunists at Judson Realty, when disposable "smart" devices earn more per square foot than hard, hard copies of literature. What's that expression on the tip of your tongue, Blue? "It's all good."

    Keep holding out for the selling of better patterns under a fancy name.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Anonymous, thank you. You're right of course – it's all good, if only as part of the delusion that laissez-faire capitalism is democracy. But, as they say, I'm not going there ...

      Delete
  3. I thought it was just me, missing the 'classic' show house rooms. For those who cannot attend, photos can be seen on-line at the Architectural Digest site:
    http://www.architecturaldigest.com/blogs/daily/2013/05/kips-bay-show-house-2013-new-york-blog

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The Devoted Classicist, thank you. No, it was not just you. Sometimes I think the OMGs need to get our more or at least take lessons in furniture, space planning, color theory, et al, but it is unlikely to happen.

      It was not an uninteresting show house and it certainly was more interesting than the Atlanta version. The room I actively disliked was the most traditional of all.

      Delete
  4. Socks have not left the premises.The virtual tour left me sad. Rather reminds me of cable TV with a zillion channels and nothing worth viewing.

    Sorry for the loss of your beloved bookstore. I know that pain. We are all culprits, I fear. Another box of books from Amazon just came today. But I miss that book synchronicity when the book you didn't know you were looking for leaps out at you and and says "you need me."

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. home before dark, thank you. As is often the case, the rooms were not served well by the photographs - they really were more interesting than they appeared as images on screen.

      We are left, as far as I know, with a Barnes and Noble bookstore within the city limits and that is it. All the others, small and large, are gone. To be able to browse and meet a book one had never heard of or imagined could exist is a pleasure that is now rare. As you say, synchronicity is sadly lacking.

      Delete
  5. What ever happened to proportion and scale? What am I missing? I found the house to be gaudy when it was not dull...roof terrace and back garden excepted.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. atdcom, thank you.

      There are still those who know about proportion and scale and use both in their work. There were elements that were gaudy and for me that means only that after years of neutral schemes there is a desire for color but, alas, few who know how to use it well. I've wondered a long time how design schools teach color theory.

      You and Anonymous below have given me much to work on. Thank you.

      Delete
  6. " I remain shocked when I think of how fabric houses and furniture manufacturers are pushing out collections of quite ordinary and derivative collections distinguished only by the celebrity name on the label. How we got here is worth considering – some other time."

    And how would you do it differently. This is what I tune into this blog for - actual commentary that solves the current state of design - not just another set of expectations dashed into the ground without thorough explanation. Please explain your design point of view.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Anonymous, thank you.

      "How we got here is worth considering – some other time. "

      The last sentence of what you quoted signifies that I intend to write about it.

      Delete
  7. Having seen the photos, I would suggest that there are quite a few designers in NYC that need their licenses revoked. Enough said!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Anonymous, thank you. I'd send some of them back to school. On second thoughts, school is maybe part of the problem.

      Delete