Roberto Capucci: Art into Fashion

I've always been enchanted by the story of John Fowler spending hours holed up in the Victoria & Albert museum studying its collection of women's costume and dress. Certainly not a bad way to spend an afternoon, and an endeavor that proved fruitful during his career. After all, he was and still is the undisputed master of curtain making and design. So many of his curtains resemble elaborate ballgowns, don't they?

If I lived in Philadelphia, you can bet your bottom dollar that I'd too hole myself up and seek design inspiration at the Roberto Capucci: Art into Fashion exhibit at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. The exhibit celebrates the forward-thinking Italian fashion designer and artist noted for his inventive construction and use of fabric. Worn by the likes of Marilyn Monroe and Gloria Swanson, Capucci's creations have also influenced younger designers including Ralph Rucci, one who is also noted for his architectural approach to fashion. Speaking of architecture, one of Capucci's most famous designs is his Colonna dorica dress, a silk satin creation based upon, yes, a Doric column.

So what's to glean from this exhibit? Well, an obvious answer would be the construction of the clothing. Look at the pleating of one dress or the voluminous skirt of another. Could that be translated into curtains? A lamp shade? Even an elaborate table skirt? Think about the weird but wonderful details he used like plastic cubes and pebbles. And of course, there are those riotous color combinations.

Unfortunately, I don't think my travels will be taking me to Philadelphia this spring, but if you happen to be in the city from March 16 through June 5, I urge you to visit the museum. That way, you can tell me all about it. In the meantime, I plan to purchase the exhibit's corresponding book pronto, as Roberto Capucci might say.




Bocciolo (Bud) Dress, a 2009 reproduction of a 1956 original, made of silk taffeta.




Colonna dorica (Doric Column) Sculpture Dress, 1978, silk satin.




A dress made of cotton lame and plastic with plastic cubes, 1967




Silk shantung taffeta and silk georgette dress with pebbles, 1972.




Sculpture Dress, silk taffeta and silk georgette, 1980.




Sculpture Dress, silk crepe and silk gazar, 1984.




Sculpture Dress, silk velvet and pleated silk taffeta, 1987.




Sculpture Dress, silk taffeta, 1987.




Sculpture Dress, pleated silk taffeta, 1992.




Sculpture Dress, silk satin, 1992.




Sculpture Dress, silk taffeta, 1992.


All images courtesy of the Philadelphia Museum of Art

Meet James Amster

James Amster is one of those cult figures in the history of American interior design. He unfortunately doesn't have the name recognition today of, say, Van Day Truex, but during much of the twentieth century, he was very much a prominent figure in American design. He was an antiques dealer as well as an interior designer, having started the decorating department at Bergdorf's in the late 1920s. Some of you might recognize his name from Amster Yard, an enclave of apartments and offices with central courtyard located on East 49th St. It was James Amster who bought the townhouses and restored them in the 1940s in order to create an artistic community. Amster Yard counted Billy Baldwin, Norman Norell, and Isamu Noguchi as tenants. Talk about some high wattage tenants. (The buildings were unfortunately razed a few years back.)
Amster was very much a traditionalist as you can see in the photos above which show his Amster Yard living room in 1971. Antiques and gilt seemed to have played important roles. What struck me most, though, was that truly luscious shade of glossy blue on the walls. The ultramarine color was achieved by custom mixing peacock blue, black, green, then more blue and more black. The painted walls were lacquered as well. Stunning.


This apartment reminded me of Todd Romano's that was recently featured in Architectural Digest. That too has glossy deep blue walls as well as a smattering of traditional antiques. Romano's home, though, is a great example of "the mix." Amongst the more traditional pieces you'll find modern art and contemporary furnishings. Perhaps Romano is the James Amster of the 21st century?

















Amster photos from House Beautiful, September 1971; Romano photos from Architectural Digest, February 2011, Thomas Loof photographer.

She's Ready for Her Close-Up

I've been trying to create a Cedric Gibbons moment in my study. Nothing lavish, mind you. Not like that set above, but rather a small statement.




I wanted it to be something you might see in a Fred and Ginger movie.




Of course, it had to be black and white. After all, most of my favorite movies are black and white.




It needed to cast a dramatic shadow.




And have a touch of the Neoclassical.




Maybe something sculptural?




What, oh what, to do?




Thanks to lamp.work.room, I found it...I mean her. A 1930s Grecian bust lamp with black base. As soon as I saw it on their website, I knew that this was to be my study's MGM moment. I think Cedric would have liked it. Don't you?

Although currently there are not other bust lamps on their website, lamp.work.room has some really fantastic antique, vintage, and contemporary lamps. I encourage you to check out their website. I'm anxious to buy another lamp from them, hopefully sooner rather than later.

(Image #1: Cedric Gibbons' set from "The Single Standard", 1929; #2 Fred and Ginger in "The Gay Divorcee", 1934; #3 "Bottoms Up", 1934; #6 Jean Harlow; #7 Kay Francis in "Girls About Town", 1931- images from Screen Deco: A Celebration of High Style in Hollywood (Architecture and Film, Vol. 3) by Howard Mandelbaum and Eric Myers. #4 Dolores Del Rio publicity shot. #5 "Cabiria", 1941; image from Designing Dreams: Modern Architecture in the Movies (Architecture and Film, 2) by Donald Albrecht.)

Unantiquated Andirons

Back when I had a real fireplace (rather than the faux one that I now have), I had the hardest time finding andirons, screens, and tools that didn't look old-fashioned. The andirons that crossed my path were usually of the brass variety and seemed fitting for Ben Franklin. Not that early American-ish andirons are not lovely; quite the contrary. They just seemed a little incongruous with my affinity for high gloss and mirror.

Unfortunately, I'm no longer in the market for andirons and such, but I did see some last week that would have been perfect in my old house. Available through Parc Monceau, they were vintage brass versions that had the elegant and regal shape of traditional andirons, but they had been replated in silver. How, um, cool is that? Silver toned fire tools and accessories would work well in a bedroom- if you're lucky enough to have a fireplace in your bedroom, that is- especially one decorated in cool, icy colors. Or, what if you had a dining room replete with silver Fromental or de Gournay wallpaper and a fireplace with a mirrored surround? The silver plated andirons would look, oh, okay, hot.

But, if brass is your thing- and I do love brass too- I've included a few examples that look modern. Let's just say that these aren't your grandmother's andirons.

All are available through Parc Monceau and Parc Monceau on 1st dibs.


The silvered finish adds some glamour to these traditional faceted andirons with claw feet.


How many of you grew up with andirons like these? They look quite different in silver, don't they?




Anchors away. I love the novelty of these mid-century brass andirons.



Not too brassy, and the Neoclassical lines are quite dignified. This pair is early 20th century.





And, if you can't make up your mind, how about a pair with both silver and gilt?



All images courtesy of Parc Monceau.

(Yet Another) Hadley Homage

I had a very fun weekend for a number of reasons, one of which you can see above. My friend Barry Hutner of Parc Monceau gifted me with numerous House Beautifuls from the 1970s. I think that Christmas came very early this year!

I have found so many interesting articles and photographs in these issues, and I haven't even finished going through them yet. But what has excited me the most are photographs of "new" Albert Hadley images. Okay, so they're not really new, but I for one have never seen photographs of these rooms before. I even found one photo of Mr. Hadley's bedroom that was pleasantly surprising. Who knew that he used to sleep in a canopy bed?!




That bookcase is a dead giveaway that this bedroom belonged to Hadley. This bed is a bit more opulent than the spartan version that has been photographed over the last ten years. I also like that there isn't an explosion of pillows on the bed.






This Chicago duplex apartment was decorated by Hadley. He divided the living room into two separate seating areas, each defined by its own rug. The rug in the top photo was by Edward Fields. The tiles around the fireplace featured handpainted animals.

In this tablescape, Hadley chose to mix textures. He said "Style is achieved through contrasts, through manipulation of lights and shadows. These objects reflect whims of momentary interest- as well as a continuity of fantasy." Well said.



Bedroom photo from House Beautiful, August 1971; Chicago apartment photos from House Beautiful, January 1971. Vignette photo from HB, February 1971.

In His Own Words

It's always a nice surprise to find a note or an article tucked into the pages of an old book. I've come across photos, business cards, even Don't Forget notepaper in my vintage books. I recently bought some old issues of the French publication Connaissance des Arts, and the previous owner, a doctor in Beverly Hills, had made notations throughout the pages. (At least, I'm assuming the notes are his.) These were no ordinary notations either, having been typed on note cards and placed within the corresponding article. It makes my method of folding over the top corner of a magazine page seem downright primitive.

In the Christmas 1954 issue, a lavish article on Charles de Beistegui's Palazzo Labia appeared. The Venetian palace is noted for its elaborate baroque design, its frescoes by Tiepolo, and its impressive renovation in the late 1940s and early 1950s by the wealthy de Beistegui. But, not everybody seemed to have been impressed by Beistegui's handiwork. The Beverly Hills doctor included this observation about Palazzo Labia:

Le Palais Labia a Venise, one of the main residences of M. Charles de Beistegui. This little renovation reputedly set him back a c-o-o-l $10,000,000.00. He was really having one of his 'off' moments, and can do MUCH better.


Well, it's nice to see that someone wasn't afraid to express his opinion.




Le Salon des Indes at Palazzo Labia




The Tiepolo frescoes














The bedroom of de Beistegui


Palazzo Labia images from Connaissance des Arts, December 1954

Party in the Dark

Are you ready for a lawn party? Yes? Well, I'm afraid that we're going to have to hold our horses because it will be some time for most of us can take the party outside. But, there's no reason that we can't start making plans. While trolling through old House & Gardens this weekend in search of party ideas, I found this August 1966 article about a nighttime garden party- a Party in the Dark. The June party took place on a Long Island lawn, one which measured only 150 feet end to end.

Elegantly attired guests arrived at dusk to find cocktails and empanadas waiting for them at a small bar on the lawn. After a few drinks, a little chitchat, and a game of black-tie croquet, guests proceeded to a buffet of chicken adobo, green salad, rolls, and fresh fruit dessert. And what might be the best part is that after dinner, everyone took pierced tin lanterns that had been placed around the dining tables and walked to a wooded area in which a dance floor had been laid. Now, how fun does that sound?

I love this idea because first, I prefer an evening event to a daytime party- if only because it's much easier to relax and cut loose after a long day. Daytime parties can, at times, seem a little stiff. And, nighttime lighting can lend a real sense of drama to a party. Of course, other things can add to the drama of a party, but perhaps we ought not to go there.

The buffet table was covered in a black and white striped fabric, while dining tables were outfitted in black and white polka dot cloths. Tin lanterns were hung on stakes around the periphery of the dining area.



Individual tins kept the dessert cool and bug free.



Tin lanterns filled with candles and carnations were used as table centerpieces.



Love the bottle of Bertolli Chianti. Note too that each table was accented by a different color- orange, yellow, or blue.



Guests enjoying conversation and chicken adobo.



The procession from dinner to dancing. Each guest carried a lantern in order to light the way to the dance floor.



Dancing in the dark until dawn.

All images from House & Garden, August 1966.