What is a Luopan?

April 5th, 2010

Feng Shui practitioners rely on directional energy to plan a space, and the Luopan is their compass. Authentic Chinese luopans are beautifully crafted devices, tuned to produce accurate readings within complex scenarios. Dating back 2,000 years to the birth of Taoist Feng Shui, the luopan contains rings of information, each concentric circle relating to different heavenly and earthly energies. At the center of the luopan is a direction finder-the “Heaven’s Pool”-fitted with a magnetized needle that points south.

Luopans come in a variety of sizes, and scale generally increases with complexity. The traditional luopan is composed of two interconnected, rotating dials: a heaven plate (usually made of metal) and an earth plate (often composed of wood). The luopan allegorically embodies the union of heaven and earth; its name translates into “a plate (pan) that holds everything (luo).”

Unlike a normal compass, the luopan is divided into 24 directional lines that radiate outward from its center. These represent the “24 mountains,” a series of directions that correspond to yin or yang elements. A Feng Shui expert uses these 24 directions to determine the facing and siting of a building, ultimately mapping that building’s “birth chart.”

Each degree of the compass gives a reading that allows the Feng Shui practitioner to pinpoint what is right or wrong with a certain area. The practitioner reads the geomantic calculations-contained within the rings of the luopan-and uses this information to derive a solution to the problem. Comparing the luopan’s calculations with other factors, such as the homeowner’s birth chart, the Feng Shui expert recommends ways to promote a room’s inherent good qualities and minimize the harmful features of a space.

Luopans of high quality are rare objects. Contemporary versions often fuse the heaven and earth plates, undermining the luopan’s ability to accurately read a space. Well-crafted luopans, with rotating parts made from traditional materials, are highly valued among Feng Shui experts and lovers of Chinese objects.

Chrysanthemum Day

April 5th, 2010

Chrysanthemum Day

In China, September is welcomed with “Chrysanthemum Day,” a celebration of autumn. The chrysanthemum is an auspicious flower, also referred to as one of the “Four Gentlemen of China” along with the plum blossom for spring, the orchid for summer and the bamboo plant for winter. Chrysanthemum, pronounced “ju” in Chinese, is phonetically similar to the word “jiu,” which can mean either “long time” or the number “nine”. And so, chrysanthemums are honored on September 9th (9/9), considered to be one of the luckiest days of the year. Moreover, since the word nine is homophonous with the word for “long time,” Chrysanthemum Day is also a day for honoring elders.

According to one legend, Fei Ch’ang-Fang, the legendary clairvoyant of the Han dynasty, advised a follower to take his entire family far from their home to a distant hill on the 9th day of the 9th month to avoid hardship. He told each family member to carry a red bag with a spray of dogwood inside. Each person was told to wear the dogwood while climbing the hill and then to drink chrysanthemum wine at the top. Upon retuning to their home, they realized the trip was a lucky excursion, averting them from great tragedy. Therefore, on September 9th, climbing hills, wearing dogwood sprays and drinking chrysanthemum wine have become traditional activities believed to invoke good luck and the avoidance of misfortune. The date continues to be celebrated today by visiting gardens, creating paintings and poetry about flowers, drinking chrysanthemum wine and eating rice cakes.

More than 3,000 varieties of chrysanthemums bloom in China today. Cultivated over hundreds of years, many of the earliest varieties are documented in the Chrysanthemum Book of the Song Dynasty (960-1279). The flower itself has proven medicinal properties, and chrysanthemum tea is used to treat a variety of ailments. The tea is prepared with dried chrysanthemum blossoms steeped in hot water and mixed with sugar or wolfberries.

Chrysanthemum stones are found in China’s Hunan Province. They are dark gray limestone specimens of volcanic origin embedded with celestite crystals that look like Chrysanthemums, the official symbol of the Imperial Family of China. The availability of these stones will soon be limited because areas where they are mined will be flooded with water released by the Hunan Dam. Some reports indicate that this will occur as soon as this year. Chrysanthemum stones possess deep symbolic meaning and are truly collectors’ items. Some believe that having a Chrysanthemum stone helps one experience the passage of life in the same way the petals of a flower unfold: a process in which the occurrence of change is not perceived as unsettling or disruptive; instead, it is embraced as fluid and harmonious.

Shen and the Magic Brush

April 5th, 2010


A Tale from China Retold by Dianne de Las Casas, The Story Connection.

There was once a boy named Shen. But he was no ordinary boy. Shen was blessed with extraordinary talent. When he dipped his brush in paint and stroked the color on a surface, his paintings came to life.

One day, Shen heard the sweet chirping of crickets. It made him want to paint a cricket. So he dipped his brush and began painting on the road.

A herald from the Imperial palace happened to be walking along. “Stop!” he cried, “you are defacing the property of the Empress of China!” The man looked down and saw Shen’s cricket. Suddenly, the cricket came to life and jumped up.

“I can’t believe it!” the man said. “It’s magic!” He brought Shen to the Imperial palace to meet the Empress.

The Empress looked at Shen and said, “I am very unhappy. My palace is dreary. And I am weary. Paint me something extraordinary to make me happy.”

Shen thought for a moment and then bent down. He dipped his brush and painted something extraordinary. When Shen was finished, he picked it up. It was a colorful, ripe peach.

The Empress cried, “A peach! You paint me an ordinary peach?! You should be punished!” She ordered him to the dungeon and took away his brush.

The Empress said, ”It must be his brush that contains the magic–Paint me a golden throne!” The herald picked up the brush and began painting but nothing happened. Many tried but no one could get the brush to work.

Frustrated, the herald threw the brush into the dungeon. Shen was lonely in the dungeon by himself but now he had his brush so he began painting. With every stroke of the brush, he felt better.

Shen painted rolling hills, tall bamboo, a beautiful panda, and a majestic stallion. The walls shimmered with beauty and then came to life. The horse looked at Shen and whinnied.

“Yes,” said Shen, “I would like to go home.” He climbed upon the horse’s back. The Empress heard the sound of the horse and ordered the dungeon door opened. Everyone was surprised to see Shen galloping away.

The royal herald and the Empress’ guards jumped on their horses and chased after Shen. Shen painted a large waterfall but they passed right through it. Shen then painted a grove of bamboo trees but they stampeded through it.

Finally, Shen painted a valley behind him. The royal herald and the Imperial guards saw too late. Down they fell!

The Empress followed too but on foot. She became lost forever in Shen’s elaborate landscape. As for Shen, he returned home to his family. He never once painted for gain. Shen only painted things that made the world more beautiful.

It’s Not Just a Table, It’s an Idea

April 5th, 2010

Table

The Ming Dynasty not only represented the peak of furniture design in China; it represented China to the rest of the world. Ming tables, beds, and vases were among the most famous Chinese exports to gain widespread popularity in Europe. Those designs were, in turn, absorbed by European furniture-makers and transformed into modern versions of Ming style. Charting the course of a Ming table, we can trace a line from its assembly to-many centuries later-its assimilation into global markets. As we map the trajectory from Ming furniture to its influence on the rest of the world, it becomes clear that a table is, in fact, more than just a table.

The Language of Good Design
Furniture design in China has been a revered craft for thousands of years. Yet, prior to the Ming period, no word existed in the Chinese language for objects we understand as “furniture” today. Beds, tables, cabinets, and chairs were referred to as “household implements.” As scholarly intellect grew in importance, Ming philosophy became visible in the material world as well. Like the sharpened mind of a Ming scholar, chairs and tables were free of fuss. This moral, philosophical approach to craft changed the Chinese concept of furniture. By the 15th century, Ming scholar Wen Zhenheng’s Treatise on Superfluous Things contained entire chapters on “Tables and Couches,” as well as “Chairs and Beds.” In the 276-year span of the Ming Dynasty, furniture making evolved from a utilitarian endeavor into an art.

Starting at Square One
The story of Ming furniture is embodied in the simplest of objects, the Ming square table. Consisting of four legs and a flat tabletop, the square table was the most basic symbol of domesticity. It hosted family dinners, board games, and afternoon tea. Communal dishes were set in the center of the table, and guests helped themselves to rice. As simple as this table seems, the methods that went into its construction were complex. The lines were straight; the joints were flawless. The square table represents the culmination of a craft honed over many centuries-a moment in history when aesthetic tastes merged with economic prosperity and advances in artisanship to create a nearly perfect object.

Joinery and Construction
The construction of wooden furniture in China was analogous with advances in architecture. Just as Chinese architects used mortise-and-tenon joints to build houses; furniture makers used the same system to construct tables. Nails and screws were never used; joints were individually carved to fit into one another like wooden locks and keys. By the Ming period, tables had evolved from low slabs into high dining tables surrounded by chairs. A wooden panel known as a “waist” was used between the tabletop and apron to secure the top to four sturdy legs, while S-curved braces further stabilized the table. Dovetail and tongue-and-groove joints are also common in Ming tables.

A Table is Not a Table
Furniture during the Ming Dynasty rarely served one purpose. Beds were used as couches, sofas doubled as beds, and dining tables were among the most multi-functional furnishings in the home. According to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, “a table used for serving food at mealtime could also be the surface for a chess game or fortune telling several hours later.” Tables occupied the center of family life, functioning not only as places for meals, but more broadly as the hub around which household activities revolved.

Simplicity and Elegance
For a table to fulfill its many purposes while achieving the Ming ideal of understated elegance, it had to be made from unassuming materials and methods. Wood was allowed to speak for itself-carvings were minimal and restrained. Fine-grained woods such as hard pine or huanghuali (“yellow rose wood” wood) were carved into clean-lined furniture with nearly invisible joints. Expert craftsmen revealed the richness and depth of the wood in pieces that exhibited an even grain structure throughout.

Ming Style and Modernism
The ideals that guided Ming furniture designers in the 15th and 16th centuries resurfaced in the West, much later, under the 20th century mantra, “form follows function.” Lightweight, slim, and timeless, Ming furniture blends in seamlessly with modern décor. Well-known designers of the modernist era often cited Ming design as their inspiration. Round-backed Ming chairs inspired Hans Wegner’s famous “Chinese Chair” in the 1940s. As recently as the past decade, Piero Lissoni debuted a contemporary “Ming Console Table” and Marcel Wanders designed an avant-garde interpretation of traditional Chinese porcelain with his “Ming Vase.” The ideals of the Ming Dynasty have not faded. Indeed, they have imprinted themselves on the global consciousness like wood grain on a table.

Chinese Beds: Rooms within Rooms

April 5th, 2010

 

 

 

 

         

                              My bed concealed by a folding screen, bamboo desk aslant,

                          I lie and watch the year’s new swallows arrive at my humble home.

 

                                                Kao Ch’I (Ming Dynasty), Lying at Leisure During Rain

 

In the Ming and Qing Dynasties, Chinese beds were not only used for sleeping at night but also for sitting and chatting with friends and family, drinking tea, smoking opium, and playing games of Go. Significant pieces of furniture, they were passed down through generations of families.

 

Beds figure prominently in classical Chinese poetry, stories, and paintings. In addition to their erotic importance, they were the place of opium dreams, where oracles visited the souls of sleeping bodies. Shen Ji-ji—a storyteller from the early Tang Dynasty—wrote the famous tale of the World in a Pillow, in which a man dreams an entire lifetime in the span of an afternoon nap. The story attests to the bed’s significance as a place for both dreams and waking life.

 

Chamber beds are the most elaborate examples, composed of a raised platform and a wooden awning that encloses the sleeping area. Constructed from hundreds of pieces carved into interlocking joints, chamber beds could be closed with curtains or lattice panels, providing a private space to sleep, talk, conceive, and bear children. The intimate quarters of a chamber bed witnessed the entire cycle of life, from birth to death.

 

For women, in particular, beds were symbols of their status within the household. Included as part of a woman’s dowry, an antique Chinese canopy bed is often referred to as a “wedding bed.” It was one of the few items that remained in a woman’s possession throughout her life, even if her marriage ended in divorce. 

 

Daybeds and couch-beds are simpler, used in men’s bedrooms and sitting areas. Ming writer Wen Zhenheng advocated a spare aesthetic for a man’s bedroom when he argued that “even the slightest touch of stylish adornment would make it look like the women’s quarters.” The design of masculine couch-beds and daybeds ranged from spare wooden platforms to more intricately carved pieces with latticed armrests and backs.

 

 Today, the Chinese bed is a unique example of antique furniture that remains a multi-functional object. Chamber are particularly beautiful in lofts or large rooms, where they establish an intimate area for sleeping or sitting. The raised platform also creates a small riser where you can leave your shoes and step into a private space. Daybeds and couch-beds are as versatile as they once were, often used in contemporary homes as a sofa or divan. These antique beds have witnessed many lifetimes, and will continue to see many more, enduring as objects of beauty and utility.

Excerpted from The Columbia Book of Later Chinese Poetry: Yuan, Ming, and Ch’ing Dynasties (1279-1911), Trans. & Ed. Jonathan Chaves, Columbia University Press, 1986.

 


East Meets West: Chinese Art Deco Carpets

April 5th, 2010

Art Deco Carpets

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

Interior Design in China’s Golden Age: A Ming Gentleman’s Notions on Room Order

April 5th, 2010

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.

Mick De Giulio: Design and Found Objects

April 5th, 2010

 


“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

Twists and Turns: Chinese Rootwood Furniture

April 5th, 2010

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]

[1] Excerpted from The Columbia Book of Chinese Poetry: From Early Times to the Thirteenth Century, Trans. & Ed. Burton Watson, Columbia University Press, 1986.

Suzanne Lovell: Identity of a Home

April 5th, 2010

Suzanne Lovell

“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 19th 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 19th 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.”
_________________________________________________________________________________________

For more information about Suzanne Lovell and her designs:

www.suzannelovellinc.com

CHICAGO

225 West Ohio Street

Chicago, IL 60654

312.595.1980

NEW YORK
40 East 34th Street

New York, NY 10016

212.686.8681