Amaranthine

This week I want to deal with what I see as timeless interiors, and if this involves some of the forgotten decorators from the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s, then all the better. The interior shown below is by one such - Ruben de Saavedra - from the 1980s.

Whilst selecting these photos it occcurred to me that one of the many changes over the last 3o years – besides the fade to a neutral palette – is that, generally speaking, when color is used today it is much cooler in tone than that of the 1970s and the 1980s. Reds, oranges, yellows and greens, the potency of which seems to blare off the page, were commonplace. Not for those decorators the smirk of disengaged white or beige - they had fun with color.

Ruben de Saavedra's interior has endured with little to date it: the Edward Fields rug, perhaps, the wallcovering in the bedroom and the large lights in the lowish ceiling are of their time. It could be argued that lighting as a profession really began in the 1960s and 1970s, both decades when drama – thus dramatic lighting – prevailed in interior design. Uplights and downlights were pretty familiar by the 1980s and track spotlighting was ubiquitous especially in homes where there was significant furniture or important art - investment as aesthetic - significant and important being routine, if lax, hyperbole used by magazine editors and art advisors of the period.

So what is it that stops an interior from being passé? It cannot be an intrinsic quality but rather a matter of perception, of training and of preference. It may be the answer lies in the roots of the word classic for Mr de Saavedra's design is a classic, if not downright classy. With that word classy you're getting to the root of the matter in one of two senses: the first, meaning adhering to established standards and principles and the other belonging to the highest rank or class.

A further question: how does one tell now which rooms will stand the test of time - and there's enough puffery in books and magazines suggesting it is possible - or does true classic design only reveal itself with the passage of time?

As with many an inanimate object the magazine, Architectural Digest, has winked temporarily out of existence. When it returns I shall post correct attributions for photographer, writer, issue and date.

The eleventh commandment

"Thou shalt have a decorator", according to Ruben de Saavedra, is the eleventh commandment. I'd always thought it to be "Thou shalt not be found out," but I'll go with his version.

Ruben de Saavedra's name is no longer well known. Like all the men I've written about over the past weeks, he belongs to that lost generation of decorators, and like all of them his name and work deserves to be remembered. One correspondent, JT, said of de Saavedra "he was HUGE in the 80s, with his exuberant personality matching his almost neo-baroque decorating."

Here, then, are photos of his New York apartment.

I could talk about how it's quite striking that this apartment, designed I think to be at its most beautiful after dark, is as classic today as it was thirty-five years ago, but I will forgo that pleasure. I could also say that perhaps today a different emphasis would be given to the interplay of levels of sheen from mirrored walls, lacquered ceiling, glittering gold, shimmering silk, polished marble, waxy wood, burnished leather, all contrasting with the visual roughness of carpet, animal-skin velvet, crusty paint, but I think that might be going too far in analyzing rooms as easy to read as they would have been to inhabit.

What I will say is that these rooms to my mind reflect the hospitable nature of the man: a man who took pleasure in entertaining; delighted in showing off his beautiful collections to appreciative friends; liked turning up the drama; was eager to provide quiet moments for the comfort of himself and guests; content with well-fed conversation around his Louis XVI dining table - a table at which robust wine was generously poured - and knowing he and they would look fabulous by candlelight.

Thou shalt have a decorator, indeed, and a sensual one.

I usually order a Manhattan at our favorite Italian restaurant, but this evening I fancy it will be a Gin and It.

1 1/2 oz gin

1/2 oz sweet vermouth

Straight up in an Old-Fashioned glass

Ruben de Saavedra died aged 57 of kidney failure in 1990.

Photos by Richard Champion from Architectural Digest, November/December 1975. Quote about eleventh commandment from text uncredited to any writer as far as I can see.