Recently I went to a party at Fortuny launching a collection of pillows by Malcolm Kutner. Fortuny pillows are great in almost any form because of the subtle pattern designs and colors of their textiles, which meld handsomely to almost any interior. We have used them everywhere, from the most august drawing rooms to sun porches. The examples on display are super duper models, some with elaborate beading or fabric trims, that demonstrate that sometimes one can make a great thing better.

I think it is interesting how these seemingly minor elements of a room can have such import: their role is certainly larger than their size.  I learned this early in my career from my mentors, some of whose dictates I regularly recall and share with the designers in my office. These include: never deliver a sofa without the decorative pillows –the client will not grasp the full effect you are trying to achieve without them; lacquer colored (a lush red) silk velvet pillows improve virtually any room; they are not to be called “throw” pillows under any circumstances; pillows made of old and exotic fabrics visually settle a new room; they must be larger than 18 inches; details such as Turkish corners add interest;  “poofy” pillows are comforting (that advice comes from the 70’s); and the style of the pillows, despite our best efforts, always dates a room.    

I offer a short cavalcade of photographs over the decades of rooms with pillows, starting with a late Victorian room by Elsie De Wolfe with heaps of pillows (a type of space that almost every American house of quality had at that time, and the first time Americans really embraced the piling on of pillows), a mid 20th century streamlined room with modern pillows, a Sister Parish room with contrasting pillows, the balloon effect of pillows in a 1980s room  and a view of two of my rooms, one with fantastic pillows made for the Duchess of Windor by Jensen. 

Now that I have been fully wearing the mantle of a decorator, I too can say with complete conviction that pillows are important.

Photos:

Top 2 images: Fortuny Pillows by Macolm Kutner

3rd Image: Elsie De Wolfe’s Irving Place interiors (early version)

4th Image: 1962 Park Avenue Duplex by Albert Hadley

5th Image: Sister Parish’s NYC apartment

6th Image: Living Room of a River House apartment by Kevin McNamara

7th Image: Thomas Jayne’s Soho loft, a pair of Duchess of Windsor pillows on bed.

8th Image: Thomas Jayne’s Soho loft, Cabinet Room

I was in Las Vegas last week to lecture at the Las Vegas Market, filled with fascination, but not seeing any great decoration. Then a call came from one of the great aesthetes of our time, Stuart Feld, the leading eye behind Hirschl and Adler and expert on American painting and the decorative arts.  He wanted me to visit his Duncan Phyfe show at the H&A galleries in New York, which I had already seen and you should, too. Then he asked me how I liked Las Vegas, adding ”I love it, it is part of our culture”. I was surprised to hear that from him. He added how much he liked the Wynn Resort, so I immediately went to see it. 

As in all matters of taste, he is right. If you stay  at the Wynn, you will love Las Vegas. Unlike its neighboring resorts and casinos, this bastion does not attempt to evoke Venice with a faux Grand Canal, Rome with a group of high rises topped with columns of an unknown order, or a shipwreck on a Caribbean island — how unfortunate is that? Rather, the Wynn’s striking decoration is based on classical proportions, but modernized and expanded with acute eyes and grand style. While some may question aspects of taste, it remains a more beguiling and original creation than any of the paste ups of old motifs that surrounds it.  

The centerpiece of the hotel is, and I do not use this word loosely, a fantastic double story atrium known as the Parasol court that opens onto a desert oasis replete with modernist waterfall and viewing balcony that cuts away to a lounge. What makes the space so memorable are the giant silk “parasols” that really are more like lanterns. They are made in brightly colored fabrics decorated with embroidery and tassels and hang from fabric covered poles that move slowly up and down (the lounges in the court are incidentally named Parasol Up and Parasol Down). Their scale is dramatic — some may even be taller than me. The floor is equally remarkable with huge flowers rendered in mosaic.

I am grateful that Stuart answered my cry from the wilderness because after my wondrous visit to the Wynn, I can love Las Vegas, too.   

All photos show the Parasol court at the Wynn Resort at Las Vegas. 2nd Photo from bottom shows the view from the Parasol court to the waterfall.

As a bar experience, you can read a review here.

The Winter Antiques Show, now in its 58^th year, is constantly evolving. First conceived as a specialty fair for collectors interested in the finest of English and American antiques and decorative arts, it has broadened its mission to include the best of the 20^th century as well. This august show, on which Americana Week in New York is anchored, has learned to adapt to changing tastes. Much of that credit can be given to both Catherine Sweeney Singer, the executive director, and Arie Kopelman, the chairman, who took over the reins of the Show in 1995. They encouraged a more expansive vision of collecting, shifting the dateline to include fine art and decorative arts to 1969, hence opening the door to a new array of modern items. Many of these objects, which had not yet been created when the first Winter Antiques Show was presented, help to draw in crowds of visitors hoping to see the unusual and unexpected.   

The show is now a decidedly diverse experience, welcoming more than just a narrowly focused group of collectors. An offshoot of this is Young Collectors Night. It is an evening where ancient Egyptian statues, Duncan Phyfe furniture, and the music of Rihanna, Beyonce, and the Black Eyed Peas share the attentions of a youthful crowd. I was invited to be on the evening’s Interior Design Committee and brought along several of the younger members of my office. I asked each of them what their favorite items from the evening were and I think their selections are interesting. Their choices are revealing and give a hint of what captivates this younger generation’s eye.

Natalie Obradovich (2nd from left, photo top) picked a pair of 1960s chairs from Moderne Gallery.

“I really love Danish furniture from this period. These chairs have such an unusual shape. The high back, low arms, and the almost ear-like extensions at the top of the chair make them feel modern and fresh. Yet, the spindle back and general idea of the chair recall early American Shaker forms.”

William Cullum (second from right) chose an Irish Georgian mirror with clear cut glass prism studs from Georgian Manor Antiques.

“What I love most about this piece is it’s sense of humor. It is absolutely ridiculous and fun, but in the most sophisticated way. The cut prism studs feel like magnified paste jewels from some elaborate costume the Duchess of Devonshire would have worn, and the antique mirror has the most wonderful patina to it.”

Chelsea Wick (left) chose a photograph from the Peter Fetterman Gallery.

“I love the contrast of the models’ soft, feminine, and brightly colored clothing with the hard and rigid façade of the more traditional building. It is a visual dichotomy; the combination of fashion, representing something new, within the context of the Victorian building, which was actually being demolished at the time of the photograph. For me, this photo represents what New York must have been at the time, glamorous but still gritty.”

Earlier this week I attended the opening of the newly refurbished American Wing at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Seeing the reinstallation of the collection was like attending a high school reunion —it was great to see old friends again. And, all of it looked exceptionally well in its flattering new environment. The new galleries, of which there are 26, are now positioned on one floor in a continuous flow of spaces. Ten years and $100 million in the making, it does not disappoint.

There are many artful touches and well considered details in the design of the galleries. One is the choice of a single neutral taupe color that provides a consistent backdrop throughout. Interestingly, many visitors made comparisons between the American Wings at the Met and the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. The Museum of Fine Arts’ galleries have richly colored walls, several with period appropriate wallpapers. The Met took the opposite route, avoiding emphatic color to allow the art to stand out.

In general, I tend to favor placing paintings against colored walls in my own work to set them off — but, of course, there is a difference in mission. Because the Met has encyclopedic collections and they are trying to present the broader history of art, an academic approach where art is handled like scientific specimens to be studied is warranted. Art can be carefully examined in a neutral environment, whereas decorated rooms balance multiple themes and competing focal points.   

Another interesting choice the Met made was to focus on placing paintings in original or period frames, allowing individual artworks to connect back with their original context.  A prime beneficiary of this is Emanuel Gottlieb Leutze’s 1851 Washington Crossing the Delaware. This painting — which receives the most dramatic transformation by being placed alone on a long arched wall at the terminus of an enfilade of galleries — is set within a reproduction of its original lost frame by Eli Wilner. It is a triumph.

Leutze’s painting has had multiple frames during its existence, the current one being the fourth of its 161 years of existence. In the below photo the painting is seen in its original frame at the time of the Metropolitan Sanitary Fair of 1864 in New York. In 1897, John S. Kennedy purchased the painting for $16,000 and donated it to the Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art. Upon its arrival it was placed in a different frame, which can be seen in the image following dating from 1907.

Once again, the painting was reframed in 1918 in a shallow, flat frame. This very plain frame was maintained because it allowed one to focus on the painting alone – a very 20^th century notion. Now, in a dramatic new course from previous decades, there is a growing movement to reunite paintings with their original or period frames. Frames are seen as part of the art and considered archeologically essential to their appreciation.

Additionally, not only has the painting been paired with a replica of its original frame, but it is also now hung in a gallery with Frederic Edwin Church’s 1859 The Heart of the Andes and Albert Bierstadt’s 1863 The Rocky Mountains, Lander’s Peak. These three paintings were first seen together at the time of the Metropolitan Sanitary Fair in 1864, but dwelled in different galleries afterwards. Bringing these important works together ties them historically and highlights the bonds of time and place between them.

There are other wonderful juxtapositions, often insightful and sometimes humorous. It is fun to see the lazy, light-hearted ease of Bingham’s Fur Traders Descending the Missouri where it will catch your eye at the entry way framing the grandly posed Washington Crossing the Delaware.  I also admired how Sargent’s Wyndham Sisters is bracketed with his other famous works, Madame X and Mr. and Mrs. I. N. Stokes. The strong black and white tones of the latter form a bold frame to the softer and more ethereal painting in between.

I hope you will all consider a visit to the new American Wing at the Met. It is worthy of a trip to New York to see – but failing that, The New York Times interactive tour of the new galleries is an exceptional introduction.