27 September 2010

Living with Castaing: Charlotte Moss


Charlotte Moss in her Upper East Side garden - MC would have adored this indoor/outdoor space; photo by Mark Heithoff
A few years ago, I sat behind design doyenne Charlotte Moss at a screening of a Madeleine Castaing documentary and by her expression, it was clear that Moss was a Castaing devotee.  Ever since, I have been dying to hear CM's thoughts on MC and by the end of our conversation,  I was left inspired and energized by this intrepid traveler of style. 

EEE: When did you have your first Castaing experience?

CM: Oh my gosh. It was probably on one of my first trips to Paris in the early 80s. I nearly stumbled on her shop. She was in there, in the store sitting in a corner. 
 
There were some things I was interested in and I introduced myself. She acknowledged that, we chatted and that was that. And then I probably saw her a couple of other times when I was on trips. For me, she was such a goddess and her store was like being in a temple.


The Bibliotheque at Leves: Moss carried off the Napoleon III X-form chairs and the reading stand in the archway
Castaing chic for everyone!  Moss  had this quintessentially Castaing chair reproduced

She was famous for refusing to sell things. 

There were no prices on anything. Remember, she was the first one who ever did a shop where – it’s tough to even call it a shop – it doesn’t do it justice...  It was if you walked into someone’s salon and it felt like you were intruding. It was almost like you had gone to someone’s house and you got busted opening the medicine cabinet or caught opening a drawer, you know what I mean?

And she would have a fire going and a tea cup perched here and there...

She was having tea in some mistmatched number – fabulous – I thought – oh my God – my grandmother did that! And French women do it too. All these things start to line up for you. When your grandmother did it, well of course that was your grandmother and when your parent tells you something, you think yeah, yeah, yeah – but when you see someone else do it, it’s immediately validated.

Were you able to buy things from her?

I don’t remember if I actually bought anything – maybe a pair of candlestick lamps with shades. I remember I was interested in a screen one time and she had some fabulous ceramics… that would have been the kind of thing I would have bought. I wouldn’t have bought any upholstered furniture because the prices were crazy. But years later I did end up buying things at the auction.

One of a pair of stools embroidered with Madeleine and Charlotte's initials by longtime Castaing employee Laure Lombardini who pretty much did all of MC's needlework; photo by Francis Hammond

The thing that I wanted but I had with good sense to stop in the bidding was the pair of stools with the blue checkerboard needlepoint with MC in the middle – those are the opposite of my initials.

Some people look at her style today and see a zany grandmother, maybe a little fuddy duddy....

You have to look at everything in its period and in its time and then to understand how a person may reflect their time. And sometimes they might be ahead of their time.  

There’s no fuddy-duddy grandma about Castaing. She was an original.  She first said that everything has to have heart in it. She had courage, she wasn’t going to work for anyone she didn’t like.

She set her own rules….

Yes, she set her own rules. I know a lot of decorators who think that is heresy. They think that if they’re on the other end of the phone and someone calls them, they have to work for them – well, how could anything of beauty come from that? She just said no. She had a mind of her own. There’s no fuddy duddiness. She put no price tags on things because she didn’t sell things to people she didn’t like.

Did she influence you as a retailer?

Oh yes.  You learned that it was all about atmosphere, seduction, selection, and details.


A pair of opaline cachepots from the Castaing sale in Moss' bedroom; photo by Pieter Estersohn

Your Townhouse really had that in spades.

It's about setting the mood. Those little moments you can create, those little vignettes – I don’t care if it is a tabletop vignette inside a bookcase - every surface, vertical or horizontal, was an opportunity to inspire, to entice, to make people stop, and think – take note. Engage them. And that to me is 90% of retailing. Because when it comes right down to it, the stuff is coming from the same places, so it’s what you do with the stuff that distinguishes you.

You’re inspiring me right now!

Right now everyone is over in France at Maison Objets looking at the same objets – what are they going to do with it all once they get it?

Why is the person going to buy it from you instead of someone else….

Because someone’s going to give them an idea. Someone’s going to tweak it, put it with something.  A a customer, I'm going to keep going back to the store that keeps giving me ideas.

One of the things I appreciate about you is that you find inspiration from past style setters and celebrate them… who is on your radar at the moment?

The large porcelain covered urns in the dining room at Leves...

are now in Moss' study
I can’t think of anyone in particular- I’m closing my latest book and there are women in the book that are always  resonating in my work…more than anything, it is the red thread that connects these women - -  their spirit, energy, curiosity, adventure, generosity is also a big one....

I just had a big discussion last night at a dinner party about the women who traveled in the Middle Eeast, about the Gertrude Bells of the world and a lot of others who are more obscure… My next fabric collection for Fabricut is being named after these women because for me it’s really important that history lives on. And that we keep bringing it forward and find a way to bring it forward in a fresh way.

So these women from the past who were intrepid travelers have nothing to do with my fabric collection at all! But they have something to do with me. And I admire them so this is my opportunity to bring it forward – so when someone asks me why I named it "Florence" or "Isabel", I can say, "Isabel is a woman that…" and I can give them this 2 minute trip down the Amazon….If that inspires someone to pick up that book, then I feel like I did my job, to get someone interested in history.


Moss in her study surrounded by inspiration
As someone who teaches design history, it seems that many inherently find history boring, or even a dirty word!

History is only a dirty word if you're stuck in it.  What people forget oftentimes is that history informs us and that every decision we make today about tomorrow is a better decision with the knowledge of yesterday.  


I've told this story a hundred times:  I had an interview with an editor and they were talking about the line on the legs of a chair – it was a sabre leg. And they went, don’t you think this is incredible? Don’t you think he's the smartest designer? And I said, "have you ever seen the klismos chair?"

Of a thousand years ago…. Wow.

Before you write that one, you need to pick up a history book. But that’s the problem – they all think it’s new. And the same thing in fashion too.

There’s nothing new under the sun.

That’s right. If you really want to learn about construction, study a Balenciaga sleeve, and they just don’t know about that. Without trying to be schoolmarmy, there’s a way to bring the past in – in a soft way – and I hate to say commemorative - but I’ve got to name those fabrics after something!

It seems that in many design schools, the emphasis is on New – and that to call work "beautiful" is almost a put-down - which I find sad.  What's wrong with aiming for beauty?

That’s interesting. Creating beauty, seeing beauty is what I built my business around and I'm not giving up any time soon!

We just put up a couple of articles from my old magazines on charlottemoss.com. The opening line to one is "Nothing of beauty was ever created by anyone afraid of making a mistake." It’s so true.  "What makes a house romantic?" is another article done by Joseph Hudnut who was the Dean of Architecture at Harvard.

Pretty impressive credentials..

Yes, but also responsible for bringing Gropius and Breuer [founders of the Bauhaus] to Harvard! This was a guy with a different aesthetic and here he is talking about romanticism and beauty. I have the 1920 through 1979 issues of House and Garden – I’m up to 1929, going backwards all summer. I totally bonded with the 70s. That was the era when I was in college so I had a little walk down memory lane.

What?!  Are we going to see Charlotte Moss shag carpeting coming soon?

No!  But you will see ikat carpeting this fall.

Can't wait.

A thousand thank yous to Charlotte for sharing her thoughts and enthusiasms. To see what else is on Charlotte's mind and what other vintage articles she's archived, visit her here.


12 September 2010

September Debut

A deb donning Ceil Chapman
Fall is my absolute favorite season.  After suffering the indignities of  summer's cruel heat, it is pure heaven slipping on a cardigan and still feeling autumn's invigorating chill.  One can also return to black, navy, chocolate brown, and charcoal and no longer resemble a dark cloud of gloom lurking on the Lilly Pulitzer horizon of June.

While grey is one of my wardrobe staples, it's never occurred to me to use it in a room. When House Beautiful asked me to consider the glamour of grey for their September color issue for my first assignment for the magazine, I was intrigued.

A corner of the luxe, luxe, luxe sitting room designed by Raquet - the variations in tones and textures make it a difficult room to capture by lens

Designer Andrew Raquet was to be my guide of a New York residence he designed for a young family.  If you haven't already picked up a copy of the issue, beware - you may find yourself in a paint store by the end of the day.


My day with Andrew was months ago and I am still haunted by a Prelle silk he used.  My fellow fabric devotees know that Prelle is an ancient French manufactory producing the finest hand-loomed silks since the 18th century with the price tag to match its exquisite quality.  The lustrous lovely in question was Droguet Forlane en noir.  It's a small scale repeat of a stylized flower?berries? Whatever - it is charming.


Wallis Windsor thought so too and splashed out by covering this canape in the silk.

I've only recently gotten turned on to the thrilling possibilities of throw pillows.  As Andrew wisely pointed out, it might not make sense to spend several fortunes covering a sofa in Prelle or whatever your poison may be, but a pillow?  The world is your silk-lined oyster.

P.S.  September is also my debut as an independent design historian and enthusiast (aka Freelance).  Look for more regular EEE postings to come.

Top photo of Deyanne O'Neil Farrell by Horst P. Horst; #2 courtesy of House Beautiful; #3 from prelle.fr; #4 from the Sotheby's Duke and Duchess of Windsor sales catalogue

16 August 2010

Coup de Foudre: Lagerfeld's Austrian

I was recently savoring the ode to the eighteenth century that was Karl Lagerfeld's Paris flat, as captured by Christie's in 2000.  The sale was a major purge, and he swept out his savonnerie to go all high tech and Hedi Slimane.  As long-time readers of EEE may know,  there is nothing like an Austrian shade or a pagoda pelmet  to stop me in my tracks. 


The Kaiser's are perfection - the two swags (as opposed to four or five) are unexpected, and I love the gathered side edges and that it's unlined.  Oh I could go on and on.

From his introduction to the sales catalogues:
"Lives, like novels, have chapters.  Never put yourself in a position where one day you can compare a still unknown future to a happy past."

Photograph by Karl Lagerfeld from the 29 April 2000 Christie's Monaco catalogue

(Click here to see my current pagoda obsession....)

27 July 2010

Life after Castaing: Chez Harry Heissmann

Harry Heissmann's living room, featuring a pair of Castaing brackets, photo by Russell Gera
Madeleine Castaing didn't buy Important or Fine French Furniture, but rather what charmed her.  This pair of brackets in the form of tree branches captured her fancy and found a home at her fairy-tale Leves.  Years later when her estate was sold off, they also captured dashing designer Harry Heissmann's and here they are in installed today in his Brooklyn Heights flat. (That he lives in the most fabulous neighborhood in the city is enough evidence of his excellent taste to my mind; Harry also spent years working for the master of the refined, Albert Hadley.)

another view, photo by Russell Gera
Madeleine's quirky side would no doubt have found his snail table very amusing. 

As installed by Madeleine in the dining room of Leves - do you think the plant is plastic? I do.


Many thanks to Harry for giving us a glimpse into his personal world.  And another big thank you to Habitually Chic for including MC and EEE in her Fall Book Brigade.

25 July 2010

The House that Pleasure Built


Mlle Dervieux's boudoir

For as long as I can remember, I have been fascinated by that singularly glamorous creature, the Courtesan.  Living outside of society's constraints and approval, hers was a life dedicated to mastering the art of pleasure in all its forms - intellectual and sensual.  

It was a job requirement to be dressed fashionably and sumptuously and her quarters, as an extension of her person, were just as exquisitely equipped.  The Opera dancer Anne-Victoire Dervieux (1752 - 1826) was one such mistress who was so passionate about her Paris neoclassical hotel particulier that she eventually married her architect François-Joseph Bélanger.* 


The house on the rue Chantereine (now the rue de la Victoire) was fabled for its elegance.  The Baronne d'Oberkirch was one of the many who toured it - while its mistress was out, of course - and described it in her memoirs: "It was a gem.  The furniture alone was worth a king's ransom.  Both court and city had contributed to its decoration."

The two story house was first constructed by Alexandre Brongniart, but was redesigned by Belanger in 1788 in the latest Pompeian taste.



The brothers Goncourt called it the most splendid of the small-scale hotels, "with its bathroom in the Etruscan fashion, the dining room preciously worked with silver arabesques, painted figures, and mahogany and lemon wood married together."  Most petites maisons were sited on the outskirts of Paris where men could engage in all sorts of unsavory pursuits away from society.  If interested, I highly recommend the 18th century novel La Petite Maison which narrates the seduction of a young woman through the architectural delights of a maison de plaisance.

 

Belanger was at the forefront of French neoclassicism which drew upon the arabesque decoration found in the Ancient Roman murals in Pompeii.  (Compare with his British contemporary Robert Adam who was similarly influenced.)


A rare exhibition of 20 watercolor designs was recently on view at Didier Aaron in London.  My dear friend Marc sent me a few images from the show, which I hope some of you had the good fortune to see.  For more, click here.

One of Belanger's most important clients was the Comte d'Artois who, surely no coincidence, was one of Dervieux's supporters.  I couldn't help but include Belanger's charming design for the comte's bedroom at the chateau de Bagatelle in the Bois du Boulogne.


*Dervieux was imprisoned during the French Revolution and her marriage to Belanger afterwards is said to have been more of convenience than of a shared passion enflamed over boiserie and mantelpieces.  Oh well.  The house was later inhabited by another lady of style, Hortense Bonaparte.  Click here to see Dervieux's boudoir in miniature.

For more reading pleasure, curl up with Katie Hickman's Courtesans: Money, Sex and Fame in the Nineteenth Century and Mistresses: True Stories of Seduction Power and Ambition by Leigh Eduardo.  Of course, I am always looking to expand my library on licentious ladies, if you have any suggestions....