A Walter von Nessen Masterpiece at Wright

With last weekend's release of The Great Gatsby, not to mention the film-inspired merchandise currently being sold at Tiffany & Co. and Brooks Brothers, the 1920s is coming back into vogue.  The timing couldn't be better for Wright auction house, which will be selling this extraordinary Art Deco-style chair- the work of American furniture designer Walter von Nessen- at an upcoming auction in June.  The armchair, thought to have been one of a pair, is both important and rare, with a pre-auction estimate of US$200,000-$300,000.

First exhibited in 1928 at the International Exposition of Art in Industry, Macy's answer to the 1925 blockbuster L'Exposition Internationale des Artes Décoratifs et Industriels Modernes in Paris, the chair features a curved aluminum back and base, with cast bronze armrests and cut brass ornamentation.  Most striking, at least to me, are both the cut and applied ziggurats, a classic motif of the Art Deco style.  What adds to the chair's allure is its peculiar, and almost tragic, history.  Housed at a movie theater in upstate New York, the chair was sold along with other metals to a scrap metal hauler in the late 1970s.  Thankfully, the hauler recognized that this chair likely had value, so he contacted a couple who had recently sold their important Art Deco collection.  The couple bought the chair, and it has remained in their care for the last forty years.  To think that this chair almost ended up in the scrap metal pile!

The chair, a notable example of the American Art Deco style, has a documented history of its early years.  Featured in a November,1928 article in The Metal Arts magazine, the chair also appears in a period photograph that was included in At Home in Manhattan: Modern Decorative Arts, 1925 to the Depression.

Wright's Important Furniture auction will take place in Chicago on June 6. For more information, please contact Wright.

A photo showing the chair in situ at the Macy's exhibition.  This photograph appears in At Home in Manhattan: Modern Decorative Arts, 1925 to the Depression.


All photos used with express permission from Wright.

Rouen Suite on the Normandie

To those of you who are cruise devotees, forgive me if it seems as though I'm raining on your parade. You see, I'm cruise-ship averse. One reason may be because I get motion sickness at the drop of a hat. Then again, it might also have to do with the fact that the idea of being stuck on a ship in the middle of the ocean kind of freaks me out. And then there's the Norwalk virus. Have you ever seen those news interviews with passengers returning from a Norwalk afflicted cruise?? Talk about a cruise from hell.

However, there are certain ships that might entice me to overcome my cruising apprehension. One is the small but luxurious ship upon which Diane Dorrans Saeks recently traveled during her sojourn to Myanmar. (She wrote about it last week.) The ship that really strikes my fancy, though, is the late French ocean liner, SS Normandie. I don't wish the ship were around today, because traveling on it would be nothing like it was in the 1930s. There just wouldn't be the same sense of style, gentility, and decorum today as there was back then. But, for a taste of what might have been (had we lived back then, of course), take a look at the Rouen suite on the Normandie. Decorated by the French firm Dominique, the suite's decor is an example of the Art Deco and Streamline Moderne styles that were used throughout the ship's interiors. It's sad to think that just seven years after these photos were published, the ship was destroyed by fire in the port of New York as it was being converted to a U.S. troopship, having been seized by the U.S. government in World War II. Such a shame, especially considering how beautiful and well-appointed these rooms were.

Image at top: The suite's dining room had walls covered in parchment and pallisander.



In the bedroom, lacquered blond wood walls had engraved mirrored panels. The color scheme for the room was bisque and brown.



The blue bedroom had silk paneled lacquer walls and sharkskin furniture.



The salon.



Another bedroom with "laced pigskin...ruddy tones...coarse textures."

All images from House & Garden, August 1935.

A Little Dab'll Do Ya

While I was researching yesterday's post on The Divorcee, I found a terrific online resource for architectural artifacts: Urban Remains in Chicago. I ended up spending a lot of time going through their Art Deco period inventory which includes the 1930s startled cat door stop at top. I'm crazy for authentic Art Deco interiors, but I also know that there is a lot of Deco drivel out there. Deco flourishes can quickly careen into tacky territory. My advice would be that unless you live a Deco era home, go light on the Deco furniture and accessories. The pieces below are ones that I think would look great mixed in with other periods and styles.





A 1920s pendant light with baked black enameled accent.



These 1930s era metal stools are probably too short to be used at a kitchen island or a bar, but could be use for pull up seating around a table of some sort.




A novel pair of armillary table lamps, c. 1930s.




A pair of 1920s chrome plated, cast iron bookends.




I like the looks of this light, although you would really have to find the right space for it.




I like the shape of this mantel, although the varnished oak I'm not so crazy about.




If your first or last name begins with an "E", these door knobs might look nice in your dressing room, powder room, coat closet, etc.

Watch This Movie: The Divorcee

I watched the Norma Shearer movie The Divorcee (1930) over the weekend believing that the movie's sets included a country house done up in Hollywood Regency decor. Well, wrong movie. The Divorcee did not have such a set. Still, the movie was interesting to watch. A pre-code film, the movie's plot was, for the time, rather scandalous. In a game of tit for tat, Shearer's character cheats on her husband after discovering that he had an affair. (In the scene shown at top, a chipper Shearer had not yet learned about her husband's cheating ways.) Shearer then receives a lesson in society's double standard when it comes to adultery. While her husband's fling was a piffling event, Shearer's affair was a cardinal sin, something that eventually leads her down the road to moral looseness. Let's just say that for the era, the movie was considered to be shocking.

Storyline aside, the movie's Cedric Gibbons designed interiors are a feast of Deco architecture. In both Shearer's apartment as well as the swinging nightclubs, the geometric door surrounds are larger than life, while chevron sconces are quintessential Art Deco.

You know, for such morally challenged people, they certainly lived and partied well. Anyway, have a look:



The fireplace and andirons of Shearer's apartment are so Deco in flavor as is that pair of busts.




Shearer's husband in the kitchen fixing, what else, cocktails. The space is somewhat spartan yet stylish too.




The chevron shaped sconces are also textbook Art Deco, but the real star of this screen shot is that massive piano stool with the low ziggurat back and fluted sides.





A dramatic movie deserves a dramatic entry hall.




The apartment's sofa is definitely unusual. It had two separate backs that fit within the niches; the backs were connected by one large, bow front seat.





One could really make an entrance into the nightclub thanks to the massive door. Classic Moravian star fixtures helped to light the space.




Shearer's apartment after she became The Divorcee. I love the swag to one side of the doorway.

George Barbier: The Birth of Art Deco

Are you familiar with George Barbier, shown above? I was vaguely aware of his name and knew that he was an illustrator during the Art Deco period. But beyond that...nothing else. Evidently, I'm not alone.

Barbier was one of the leading figures of the Art Deco era, enjoying fame and notoriety with fellow artists Léon Bakst, Erté, and Aubrey Beardsley. Much of Barbier's work centered around fashion illustration (including very stylish works for Cartier), although book and magazine illustrations and theater designs (set and costume) rounded out his oeuvre. His illustrations were so very evocative of the Deco era; they were lavish, stylized, and at times erotic. They captured the modernity and frivolity of that time.

Unfortunately, Barbier's name has been obscured with time. Bakst and Erté's stars continued to shine bright through the years, while Barbier was relegated to the annals of time. And amazingly enough, no exhibitions of his work had been staged since 1932 until this year when the Fortuny Museum in Venice held a retrospective of Barbier's work. An accompanying book was recently published entitled George Barbier: The Birth of Art Deco, edited by curator Barbara Martorelli (distributed in the U.S. by Rizzoli New York).  The book is a fascinating study of the man who helped define the Deco aesthetic.  There are numerous color plates of Barbier's work, and I think you'll be charmed by them.  (I know that I was, especially by his theater designs.)  The text is informative and concise, but the book really is all about Barbier's illustrations.

If you have an interest in illustration, in fashion, or in the Deco period, I highly recommend this well researched book.  After reading it, I think you might agree that it's high time more people are familiar with George Barbier.

(Those of you in New York might be interested in an upcoming lecture by the author on November 17 at the Art Deco Society.  Sponsored by the American Association of University Women, the event will take place from 6-8pm, $20 for ADSNY members and $25 for guests & non-members.  For more information, please call 212-679-3326)

Mademoiselle Spinelly chez elle, 1921 from Le Bonheur du Jour ou les Grâces à la Mode, 1924

Mademoiselle Sorel en grand habit, 1921 from Le Bonheur du Jour ou les Grâces à la Mode, 1924

Costume Study, Chinese Dancer, c. 1920

La Fontaine de coquillages, from Gazette du Bon Ton, March 1914

Falbalas et Fanfreluches, almanach des Modes présentes, passées et futures, 1924

The Romance of Perfume, 1928; a promotional book for Richard Hudnut and Richard le Gallienne.

(All images copyrighted George Barbier: The Birth of Art Deco edited by Barbara Martorelli, Marsilio, 2009)