A blog of Chinese art, culture and design

Wen Zhenheng was the Ming Dynasty’s Martha Stewart. A scholar from the late Ming period, Wen documented his philosophy of home design nearly 400 years before the advent of MS Living or Architectural Digest. His Treatise on Superfluous Things remains one of the era’s most compelling glimpses into classic Chinese interior design.

Many scholars refer to the late Ming and early Qing Dynasties (1550 – 1735) as “the golden age of classic Chinese furniture.” Aesthetic tastes tended towards simple, austere wooden furnishings. Ming homes and gardens reflected this sense of orderly restraint-a style that shares much in common with the Zen-inspired minimalism of the 20th century. Wen’s approach to interior design is sharp, insightful, and often funny-he is, by design, a gentleman of the highest order.

Space Planning
Although Wen Zhenheng acknowledges, “methods of arranging furniture are varied,” he advocates an ordered aesthetic based on the underlying structure of nature. Proper arrangements are determined by the room’s function, and décor should change from winter to summer. In hot weather, he recommends that lattices be removed from the windows and replaced with bamboo curtains. Each room, according to Wen, has its model in nature: bedrooms should avoid “the slightest touch of adornment” to be “appropriate for a hermit who supposedly sleeps with clouds and dreams of the moon.” In public spaces, “books and ceremonial wares should also be suitably arranged so that they create a scene resembling lofty clouds, firmania trees, and ancient rocks.”

Studies and Small Rooms
In small rooms, Ming interior design limited furniture placement to a few key pieces. Shelves and cabinets were used to “keep books and paintings in order” and to house “a small gilt Buddha,” but Wen Zhenheng advises that “there should not be too many [shelves]; otherwise, the room looks like a bookstore.” If a study is used as a seating area, it should contain no more than four chairs and a couch-bed. In a very small space, Wen advises placing a writing desk in the center of the room and outfitting it with objects of beauty such as brushes, incense powder boxes, and incense burners.

Bedrooms
The bedroom was concerned with the utilitarian aspects of Ming life. Classic Chinese furniture adheres to the same rule that continues to dominate contemporary design: “form follows function.” Simple and unadorned, the Ming bedroom contained one or two sleeping couch-beds (for the homeowner and/or a guest), a small table, two small stools, and a reading lantern. Storage was limited to a garment rack, a cosmetics box, a small cabinet, and a drawer under the bed for shoes and socks. Neutral tones were considered most appropriate for the Ming bedroom-no “colored pictures or painted surfaces.”

Sitting Rooms and Grand Rooms
Like the contemporary coffee table, the Ming sitting table was a surface for display. Table arrangements included books, painting albums, paperweights, inkstones, brushes, and water holders. In contrast, the Grand Room housed a larger, more functional table with long couch-beds on either side. Everything was bigger in the Grand Room-large inkstones, oversized vases, and large pots of orchids decorated this public area.

Artwork
Ming scholars viewed artwork as a powerful force in the home that should be used sparingly. Wen Zhenheng advises hanging only one painting per room: “It is regarded as vulgar to hang paintings on two walls or hang two paintings symmetrically at both left and right.” According to Wen, hallways should contain horizontal scrolls, while small landscapes and nature paintings (absolutely no fan paintings or square pictures) should be hung in sitting rooms. A “painting table” beneath the artwork should display exotic rocks or seasonal flowers. In small rooms and bedrooms, paintings should not be hung at all. One exception to this minimalist approach is the Grand Room, in which “there is no harm in placing extra miniature landscapes formed with rare peaks, old trees, clear brooks, and white pebbles.”

Accessories
Vases and incense burners were must-have accessories in a Ming home. Bronze and ceramic were valued over gold and silver. In spring and summer, Ming homeowners dusted off the bronze vases and incense burners. In autumn and winter, the bronze went into storage and ceramic models were used in their place. Incorporated into almost every room, incense sets included a powder box filled with fragrant sticks or chips. Flowers and incense burners were kept separate, as the smoke could damage plants. Floral arrangements were minimal, using one or two types of flowers or-in some cases-only a single bloom. Displayed on low stands, large vases were used in hallways, while small vases adorned more intimate rooms.

A Cornerstone of Contemporary Décor
Little original furniture remains from the Ming dynasty, yet the Ming aesthetic continues to influence interior design to this day. Handcrafted Ming-style furniture retains its popularity in homes across the globe. Wen Zhengheng’s philosophy of functional design and simple materials remains a cornerstone of contemporary décor, not only in Asia but throughout the West as well. In his words, “With only a small table and a couch-bed installed, visitors can recognize a room’s charm.” Quality takes precedence over quantity.

Wen Zhengheng quotes are excerpted from A Treatise on Superfluous Things, translated by Huajing Xui Maske, printed in Beyond the Screen: Chinese Furniture of the 16th and 17th Centuries, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, 1996.

“I look for pieces that have cultural significance and are excellent in their representation of craft,” says Suzanne Lovell. The Chicago-based interior designer travels extensively, equipped with an expert eye for unique artwork, antiques, textiles, and furnishings. Lovell’s global adventures have influenced her firm’s approach, which balances a wide range of multicultural influences in a seemingly effortless blend of comfort and style.

As principal of Suzanne Lovell, Inc., she has remained at the forefront of the design world for many years and is continuously honored as one of the “AD 100″ by Architectural Digest magazine. Her Chicago-based firm recently opened a Manhattan studio, and their portfolio includes projects for clients nationwide.

Lovell’s design for the 2009 Architectural Digest Home Design Show in New York was an example of her ability to curate a space with diverse but cohesive objects. In the AD Home, Lovell used a pair of Pagoda Red’s Northern Chinese stone column bases from the 19^th century as side tables paired with French Bergere chairs. “I use Asian objects in harmony with objects from many other cultures.”

Lovell pays careful attention to detail and works hard to develop an in-depth understanding of each client’s individual style. “It’s a constant dialogue between a client and myself with regard to likes and dislikes. It’s not about me as a designer; it’s about the client and their approach to the world,” Lovell explains. “I’m interested in people who enjoy a mixture of cultures in their environment. I’m also interested in the beauty of objects, their proportion and scale and the excellence of their craft. I think about things not only visually, but also symbolically.”

For a residential project in Chicago, Lovell blended a client’s collection of Asian artifacts with contemporary craft and period antiques. “We looked to Nepal, China, and India for inspiration. We offered further depth and breadth to the existing collection and helped our client tell a personal story that honors history. For this process, we were very fortunate to have Pagoda Red as a resource.” A focal point of the home is a large-scale 19^th century Northern Chinese lantern suspended within a two-story stair hall. “The large lantern from Pagoda Red is uniquely juxtaposed with a large collection of classic portraiture running up the stairway,” she explains. “In the context of a somewhat traditional space, the significant Asian fixture really speaks to this client’s unique identity. The same arrangement might not work for someone else, but for this person it is perfect.”

Ultimately, Lovell’s interiors reflect the complexity of the people who live in them–their travels, stories, interests, and inspirations. Lovell says, “It’s all connected. We’re always looking for comfort in our rooms–what holds us, what gives us context.”
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For more information about Suzanne Lovell and her designs:

www.suzannelovellinc.com

CHICAGO

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Chicago, IL 60654

312.595.1980

NEW YORK
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212.686.8681

The story of Chinese Art Deco begins in World War One, when trade routes between the West and the Middle East were disrupted by conflicts in Eastern Europe and Turkey. China joined the allied forces in 1917 and trade increased between Asia, North America, and Western Europe. As the flow of goods escalated between the allied nations, so did the exchange of ideas. Modern European design, in particular, influenced Chinese designers of the 1920s and 30s in seaport cities like Shanghai.

Known as the “Paris of the East,” Shanghai was the symbol of Westernized China. The city’s artists and designers were strongly influenced by French styles, and Shanghai’s art and architecture began to reflect the modern sophistication of the Art Deco aesthetic. When the war cut off the supply of Persian rugs to the West, American and European exporters looked to China for a new supply of carpets in the Art Deco style.

Chinese wool industries in coastal cities-including Shanghai and Tianjin-responded to American and European demand by producing high-quality carpets in the popular colors and patterns of the era. While traditional Chinese rugs were woven from a combination of undyed and naturally pigmented wools, Chinese Deco Carpets fused Eastern motifs with Western hues and styles. In the early twentieth century, chemical dyes imported from Europe increased the range of color that Chinese weavers could use, and enabled them to experiment with more modern designs. Advances in machine-spun wool weaving also allowed them to create denser carpets with more consistent surface patterns.

The production of Chinese Deco Carpets reached its peak in the 1920s and 30s and ended in the 40s, when the Communist Party gained control of China’s political system. Under Mao Zedong, exchange between China, Europe, and the Americas died down as the government worked hard to erase the effects of Western influence. The isolationism of the Maoist era has since given way to increased trade in the past few decades, and Chinese Deco Carpets have again made their way into America, this time as antiques.

The rich colors, high-quality pile, and short production period of the carpets make them valuable collectors’ items. Beyond their worth as objects of beauty, they also tell the story of an era of exchange between East and West.

Sources:

What the Wool Trade Wrought: Rug-Making in Early 20th Century Tianjin, Elizabeth Bergen, Hali Magazine, Issue 118, September-October 2001, pp. 102-105

Shanghai’s Art Deco Riches Revealed, Gary Jones, TIME Magazine, February 27, 2007

“The beautiful thing about design is its intangibility,” says Mick De Giulio. “It’s subjective and hard to explain why you love certain things. For example, you might respond to the grain, the depth, the texture and the feel of a piece of wood, and someone else may not see it. All that matters is that you love it. Certain materials or objects attract certain people, and that is what I try to find for my designs.”

De Giulio has earned an international reputation for his unique and personal approach to kitchen design—an art he’s been practicing throughout most of his life. He learned woodworking as a teenager in Detroit, assisting his father in the family workshop. “My dad had a little woodshop where he would make cupolas. Eventually we progressed into cabinet making and I designed my first kitchen when I was about 20 years old.”

De Giulio moved to Chicago and founded his own company in 1984.  He has remained committed to the craft of kitchen design ever since. “As a design profession, nothing has progressed more than kitchens,” he says. “In the last 20 years, especially, kitchens have evolved into a room and a lifestyle area where people do everything—hang out with family and friends, cook, entertain.”

Every kitchen tells a story. “I did a project for a client who showed me this old ice chest that she used to play with as a child in her grandmother’s house. She used it as a toy chest. I said, ‘Let’s take it and refinish the hardware, clean up the wood, and incorporate it into the kitchen.’ Now it’s part of her kitchen, and those memories of this heirloom are still around.” 

De Giulio is attracted to projects that reflect the individual lives and loves of his clients. In his search for unusual pieces, he often incorporates antiques into his kitchen and bath designs. “Found objects, personal pieces—these are the things that put a unique signature to each design,” he says. “For instance, there’s a stone basin that one of my clients bought from Pagoda Red that we incorporated into their powder room vanity. We set it on a piece of lychee, a Balinese wood.”
 

Travel also inspires the design process. On global expeditions, De Giulio has collected inspiration from a wide range of cultures. “I was at a tile shop in Paris when I saw this beautiful material—just a little piece on the floor. It took me 2 years to research how that piece was made. Eventually I found the people that made it—a group of artisans working it Italy. I befriended an artist, and now we work together to incorporate these unique pieces into my designs.” De Giulio’s search for a unique object, crafted in a way that distinguishes it from all other pieces, speaks to a sensibility deeply grounded in a personal approach to design.

“It’s not just about buying cabinets and countertops,” he explains. “It’s about surrounding yourself with things you love.”_________________________________________________________________________________________For more information about Mick De Giulio and his designs:WILMETTE
de Giulio kitchen design
1121 Central Avenue
Wilmette, IL  60091
847.256.8833CHICAGO

de Giulio kitchen design

222 Merchandise Mart Plaza
Suite 121
Chicago, IL  60654
312.494.9200

www.degiulio.org

From the freeform hardwood coffee tables of modernists like George Nakashima to the reclaimed driftwood chairs of the current crop of eco-conscious furniture makers, natural wood has the power to imbue a modern home with warmth. The current fervor for wood’s sculptural qualities has deep roots in Chinese design. Long before contemporary furniture makers began to preserve the natural forms of tree trunksand branches, Chinese artists had mastered the craft of designing furniture and other decorative objects from the twisted forms and inherent grains of hardwoods.
The significance of rootwood furniture is not only formal; it is also philosophical. Satisfying the Taoist design principles of naturalism and spontaneity, rootwood furniture exemplifies the idea that the scholarly aesthetic of a Chinese gentleman should be expressed with a humble attitude. The Chinese ideals for a literati gentleman are

strength in reason, creation, expression and dexterity—these values are also expressed in what is required to envision, design and create rootwood furniture.
Wood is one of the five elements of Chinese mysticism, along with fire, water, metal, and earth. The twisted roots of trees have special associations for Buddhists and Taoists, who see them as the embodiment of the ebb and flow of nature’s energy. A search for the perfect piece of trunk or root mirrored the spiritual pursuit of harmony. Polished and arranged in a certain way, rootwood has the ability to transform from a piece of wood into a cumulus cloud, a flowing river, or a miniature mountain range. By removing the wood from its original context, it takes on special symbolism.

Looking at Chinese paintings, it is easy to find examples of rootwood’s historical importance. An imperial painting from the Five Dynasties period (8th century) depicts Emporer Minghuang sitting on a rootwood stool. Later, images from the Ming and Qing Dynasties (16th to 19th centuries) commonly show scholars sitting in rootwood chairs. The twisted forms of rootwood beds and tables also populate the erotic art of the era, attesting to its significance not only in the homes of intellectuals but also in the hidden world of sensual pleasure.
Like many Chinese objects and materials, rootwood contains the duality of two worlds. Rootwood craftsmen—by manipulating the perception and scale of the original tree—shape the mystical, unknowable world into one that is known, an everyday part of daily human life. The root of the tree offers a sense of wholeness in its form. An ancient love poem from the Han Dynasty beautifully illustrates the metaphor of completeness: “…roots never break from the trunk they cling to. If even these unfeeling things shun separation, how could we, who have feelings, bear to part?”[1]

Chinese folklore teaches that when a baby is born, the man in the moon ties an invisible red thread around its leg. He ties the other end of the magic thread to the baby’s destined mate, and as the two grow up a mysterious force will draw them to one another. If their paths cross, they will marry.

The sense of immutable union underlying this story is so engrained within Chinese culture that it enters every aspect of home life. Pairs of cabinets, chairs, and screens evoke the married couple who form the center of the family. Relatives and friends present young couples with gifts in pairs, such as paintings of bamboo and plum, to bless their home with harmony and children. The Chinese character “Double Happiness” is an even more common wedding symbol, often found stamped onto envelopes, embroidered on textiles, and painted on porcelain jars. Expressing the wish to multiply the couple’s joy, the symbol combines the two characters representing contentment.

This understanding of wholeness through pairing is so fundamental that it guides nearly every aspect of life. All three major Chinese religions—Buddhism, Confucianism, and Taoism—teach that harmony can be achieved through the union of two opposites into one whole: male and female, yin and yang, sun and moon. 

 The philosophy of pairing permeates Chinese design as well. Chinese courtyard gardens strive to balance the duality of natural and manmade worlds by joining crooked paths with straight ones, or setting twisted stones alongside smooth ones. Feng Shui’s approach to space planning relies heavily on coupled sets to bring balance to a room—whether a pair of chairs, matched sets of vases, or two stools designed to flank a sofa or bed.

A beautiful example of coupled furniture is a pair of 19th century red lacquered cabinets in which the original craftsman wedded the cabinets with a pattern of plum branches that spreads across the doors. When one cabinet is viewed alone, the design appears to be an abstract motif or the shadow of many years of wear on the lacquer. It is only when the cabinets are placed side by side that the picture emerges, marrying the pieces in an unbroken set.