The Ultimate in High-Rise Living

I love the high-rise in which I live.  It's located on the most prominent street in Atlanta.  All kinds of interesting people live here.  And, important to me, it's been around since the late Sixties, meaning it reminds me of the old Atlanta in which I grew up.  But the building's one annoying deficiency is that it lacks a restaurant to provide room-service dining.  Thirty-plus years ago, there was a high-style restaurant in the lobby called "Tango", but sadly, those days are long gone.  If it were still around, I would likely never cook for guests again.  Instead, I'd simply call down and order dinner.  How great- and easy- would that be?

My fixation on having a downstairs restaurant might be why I was so taken with this 1990s House Beautiful article about designer William Hodgins' three-room apartment, which was located in the residential tower at Boston's Ritz-Carlton Hotel.  Without a doubt, Hodgins' great taste and beautiful possessions are really the reason why I clipped this article, but the photo of a waiter pushing the room-service dining table into Hodgins' apartment hooked me, too. 

You might remember Hodgins' earlier home, which I featured on my blog a few months ago.  That apartment was located in an 1887 building.   So, why would a traditionalist like Hodgins choose to live in a modern building?  For its conveniences, of course, which included room service provided by the hotel's dining room.  Rather than create an old-world backdrop for his "old things," Hodgins wisely chose instead to play up the modern aspects of his apartment, eschewing curtains on some windows, painting walls bright white, and laying faux-concrete tile on the floor.  Said Hodgins, "Trying to make a new apartment look old never works."  So true.  And Hodgins' preferred neutral color-palette meant that his antiques adapted quite nicely to their modern surroundings, making the age discrepancies between possessions and architecture seem minimal.

But back to room service.  Despite the fact that Hodgins claimed to rarely order it, he certainly knew how to personalize a room-service meal: with place settings of antique creamware.  Now I want a restaurant in my building even more.

All photos from House Beautiful, Oberto Gili photographer

William Hodgins, Town and Country

A reader recently suggested that I write about Boston designer William Hodgins, whose work has been woefully absent on my blog until today. Hodgins is, in a way, like designer Dan Carithers. Both men eschewed New York for Boston and Atlanta, respectively, and yet, despite not living in the epicenter of the design world, managed to forge high-profile careers and earn their places in the annals of American design.

A good introduction to the work of Hodgins might be this early-1990's House Beautiful article, which featured both his gracious Back Bay apartment and his country house.  In both homes, Hodgins has seamlessly blended elegance with comfort, traditional antiques with modern furniture, and American down-to-earth-ness with Continental sophistication, all underpinned by a neutral color palette and Hodgins's rigorous editing.

Also worth pointing out is the seemingly superb quality of both home's furnishings.  There are no junky accessories or random-looking pieces of furniture.  Everything seems to have been chosen with the utmost care.  Then again, that neutral color palette requires superb furnishings, because those neutral tones just don't have the ability to mask inferior furniture and fabrics like robust colors do.

If you wish to see more of Hodgins's work, you might want to read William Hodgins Interiors by Stephen Salny. Although I have not read the book, it appears to be a monograph worth checking out.


In the City:

...and in the country: