High Style Tile

A number of readers responded to last week's post on Delft and Portuguese tile by emailing me their sources for antique and new tile. I want to share these sources with you as I'm assuming that decent looking Delft tile is hard to find. I'll split the sources up into separate posts as they each make and sell such beautiful tile that it's difficult to narrow down the number of photos into one post.

First up is The Douglas Watson Studio in Oxfordshire, England. It was designer Christopher Leach who informed me of their work. In fact, Leach used their tile in a London town house project that was recently featured in British House & Garden. Above, you can see a photo of the tiled bathroom that Leach designed. (To see more photos of the project, click here.)

What is refreshing about the work of Douglas Watson Studio is that many of their tile designs are full of whimsy but are fortunately lacking cuteness. There is the traditional Delft style tile as well as the more exotic looking tile seen so often in Italy and Spain. What I am charmed by the most, though, are their series of tiles. Themes include the alphabet, birds, cooking, etc. Can you imagine how lovely a kitchen would look with one of these series featured prominently in the room?

I urge you take a look at the website. Every photo of their tile is more charming than the last!



One example of their Delft tile



Much of their Delft tile is available in blue and white as well as manganese or polychrome.




How gorgeous is this tiled Battle Scene panel?



Or this Balloon panel?



Catchpenny Series



Botanical Herb Series



Old English Alphabet



There are also tiles that are a bit more exotic in design.



An example of some recent work. This might appeal to the gardeners reading this.




I'm not sure to whom this coat of arms belongs, but it certainly looks stunning in tile.

All tile photos from the website of Douglas Watson Studio. The photo of the Christopher Leach designed bathroom is from British House & Garden, March 2012, Simon Brown photographer.

Old-Fashioned Easter Lilies

Every year as Easter rolls around, there are two things that I especially look forward to: Cadbury Cream Eggs and Easter lilies. There's not a lot that I can say about Cream Eggs other than they taste really good, so I'll just focus on Easter lilies here.

Easter lilies, white and trumpet shaped, aren't seen too often anymore. In fact, I'm only able to find them in Atlanta during this time of year. I suppose that they're a rather old-fashioned lily, one that has now been supplanted in popularity by the Oriental varieties that are so prevalent today. When I was trying to find interior photos which showed Easter lilies, I could only find images from the 1930s to the 1960s, a time when the Easter lily was popular in both its potted form as well as in cut stem arrangements.

By the way, if you're wondering why these lilies are a symbol of Easter, it's because they're a symbol of both resurrection and purity. And one more tidbit of info: Easter lilies are also called Bermuda lilies.



A vase of cut lilies in the New York apartment of designer James Pendleton.




A Pierre Brissaud illustration shows the drawing room of the Harrison Williams.




A potted Easter lily in the Rose Cumming designed home of Dr. and Mrs. Russell Cecil.




McMillen's old Houston showroom. An urn is a classic way in which to plant a lily.




Some rather tall Easter lilies flanking the fireplace in this McMillen designed drawing room.




The sunroom of Françoise and Oscar de la Renta. The mirrored urns holding the Easter lilies look very disco.



Photos #1 and #2 from House & Garden's Complete Guide to Interior Decoration (1942); #3 from The Finest Rooms by America's Great Decorators; #4 and #5 from Sixty Years of Interior Design: The World of McMillen; #6 from HOUSE & GARDEN'S COMPLETE GUIDE TO INTERIOR DECORATION - SEVENTH EDITION.

More Paolo Genta

After publishing my post on the work of Italian designer Paolo Genta, I received a surprise gift of the monograph on Paolo's work. I spent a few hours reading the book, and I really couldn't put it down. The photos of Paolo's interiors are absolutely smashing. Much of the work featured is more traditional in scope, though Paolo does appreciate a more modern aesthetic as well. Contemporary rooms do make appearances in the book, but for me, it's all about the beautifully lush rooms filled with sumptuous fabrics and antiques. And one thing that really struck me about his work is the number of rooms in which decoratively painted walls, ceilings, and doors appear.

The text is comprised of an interview with Paolo, and fortunately the interview is published in both Italian and English. It was interesting to learn more about this designer, his past, and his inspiration. But if you're someone who doesn't read the text in design books, not to worry. The photos will provide you with hours of enjoyment.

For more information on the book, visit the Electa website (that's the book's publisher.) I was not able to find copies available on Amazon, but the book is for sale on Amazon UK as well as Abebooks. To learn more about Paolo Genta, visit his website.


























All photos from Paolo Genta, Electa, 2010;

My Tribute to Albert Hadley

It's with a very heavy heart that I'm publishing this post, one that I hope will be a fitting tribute to Albert Hadley. As I'm sure some of you are aware, Mr. Hadley died early this morning in his hometown of Nashville. It's strange how very sad I feel, especially considering the fact that Mr. Hadley and I were barely acquainted with one another. And yet, I feel as though I knew him quite well. His work resonated with me like that of no other designer. And truth be told, no other designer has taught me as much about design and living as Albert Hadley did.

There have been very few times in my life that I've been struck by the proverbial thunderbolt, but one indeed hit me while reading the Elle Decor cover story on Albert Hadley's Manhattan apartment (February/March 2000.) If there is such a thing as a perfect home, that was it. Yes, the rooms possessed more style and flair than most of us can ever hope to achieve in our own homes, but what mattered more to me was the apartment's complete lack of pretension. His home was just that: a home, one in which he surrounded himself with objects that had meaning for him or that simply struck his fancy. You could tell that nothing was chosen for show, but rather because it spoke to him. And in turn, his apartment spoke to me.

One of my dreams in life was to meet Mr. Hadley. I was fortunate enough to have spent time with him on three different occasions. But before meeting him, we had corresponded by mail. Shortly after starting my blog, I sent out holiday cards that I had designed using a photo of Sister Parish goofing off and holding an empty Jeroboam up to her mouth. A friend suggested that I mail a card to Mr. Hadley, and so I did. He responded with a very gracious letter in which he wrote, "Sister Parish would be thrilled to be the Christmas card for "The Peak of Chic"! I don't recognize the photograph, but she's certainly belting it out."

A few months later, I had a private meeting with him at his office. He was very generous with his time, answering all of the silly questions that I asked him. I was struck by his mild manner and his still-mellifluous Southern accent that seemed little affected after years of living away from the South. Seeing that I was a fellow Southerner, he was especially interested to show me framed drawings and sketches of the work that he did at Rosedown Plantation in Louisiana. I realized after that meeting that Mr. Hadley was not just a great designer, but a kind and courtly gentleman as well.

That was not to be my only meeting with Albert Hadley. Close to four years ago, the editors at House Beautiful assigned me an article to write about a wonderful Manhattan apartment designed by Mr. Hadley and his then associate Harry Heissmann. (House Beautiful, April 2009.) Once again, I made the journey up to the offices of Albert Hadley Inc., only this time I was armed with my tape recorder, pad, and pencil for an interview. I suppose that if there is to be one plum writing assignment in my life, that was it!

Mr. Hadley was the best kind of decorator. His primary concern was to create homes for his clients in which they could live comfortably and live well. He catered not to his whims but rather to the needs of his clients. And most impressive to me was that he encouraged young designers to get educated in the history of design and the decorative arts. He believed that without this foundation of knowledge, decorating with any kind of authority is difficult at best.

I realize that my tribute to Albert Hadley might border on hagiography, but death has not elevated Mr. Hadley to legend status nor design sainthood. He achieved that long ago during his exalted career. And it might seem hackneyed to say that his passing marks the end of an era, but in my mind, indeed it does. I feel fairly certain that the word "branding" never crossed Mr. Hadley's lips. And I do wonder if a humble, thoughtful person like Albert Hadley could succeed in today's world where never-ending self-promotion has become the norm.

There are other masters of design practicing today, and for that we should be thankful. But there will only be one Dean of American Decorators, and for me, Albert Hadley will bear that title forever.





Some of my favorite Albert Hadley and Parish-Hadley designed interiors:



The Manhattan apartment of Albert Hadley.



A mid-1970s era Manhattan living room in which Parish-Hadley used a mix of Alan Campbell fabrics.



A Palm Beach guest house bedroom. (Parish-Hadley)




A garden room at a Greenwich, CT show house. (Parish-Hadley)



Brooke Astor's Manhattan apartment. (Parish-Hadley)





The Manhattan apartment of the late Glenn Bernbaum of Mortimer's fame. (Parish Hadley)



Mr. Hadley's former country house in Tarrytown, New York.




A Manhattan bedroom designed for a bachelor. (Parish-Hadley)



Decorated by a young Albert Hadley, this room appeared in a 1959 Vogue article, "Summer on a Shoestring".



The guest sitting room of the Leonard Davis house, Palm Beach. (Parish-Hadley)



The "Dog Sitting Room" in the guest suite of the late Brooke Astor's apartment. (Parish-Hadley)



Mr. Hadley's Kips Bay show house room from 2001, "Homage to Van Day Truex". (Albert Hadley)




Mr. Hadley's Southport, Connecticut house.


All interiors photos with the exception of the first are from Albert Hadley: The Story of America's Preeminent Interior Designer by Adam Lewis and Parish-Hadley: Sixty Years of American Design by Christopher Petkanas, both terrific resources.

Claude and François-Xavier Lalanne at Home

If your work week was anything like mine, then we all deserve a restful weekend. And what better way to wind down the week than with these bucolic photos of the rural home and workshops of the artist Claude Lalanne and her late husband François-Xavier. Located near Fontainebleau, the Lalannes' home was a 19th century dairy farm that they purchased in the late 1960s. (You can just barely make out the farm in a foggy photo, below.) Unfortunately, I don't know if Claude still lives on the farm after the 2008 death of her husband.

What might be even more enchanting than the 19th c. buildings are the Lalannes' sculptures that were dotted throughout the landscape. François-Xavier's bronze and stone sheep stood guard beneath a sculpture of the garden goddess Flora (see photo above), while Claude's copper and bronze alligator chair provided a nice perch upon which to sit and take in nature's beauty. It really does look like a magical forest.




A François-Xavier bronze bird amongst the grapevines.




The 19th century dairy farm that they called home.




François-Xavier's blue hippo has a basin in its mouth and a tub in its stomach.




This bronze garden chair, designed by Claude, was made for the Lila Acheson Wallace garden in Williamsburg.





Claude's copper and bronze alligator chair.




Claude wearing her work uniform of white overalls and a denim jacket. Upon her head is a pink-patinated bronze butterfly hat that she made.




All photos from House & Garden, December 1988, Alexandre Bailhache photographer.