Design Revolution
May 2008
Mid-Century modern is on a tear. Ambitious shows are taking place in New York, Los Angeles, Palm Springs and Miami. Auction records are falling with each new sale. Furniture long ignored and often denigrated has over the past decade not just survived but revived amid a buzzing market. The genre is tricky to define, though, because it’s not confined to a single style canon. Modernist furniture crosses a lot of lines and includes high-style glamour, ascetic simplicity, sharp angles, sinuous curves and even garden-variety kitsch.
American Modernism got a kick-start when emigrating European architects, in the period between the world wars, created innovative houses in Southern California that spoke to the uniqueness of the state’s climate, topography and paucity of tradition. Richard Neutra and Rudolf Schindler, both Austrian-born, and the Hungarian Paul László created renegade one-story homes that blurred the line between inside and outside, with an abundant use of glass that created light-filled, airy living spaces (enabled by post and beam architecture). Their work gained national attention, not least because of the acclaimed architectural art photography of their friend and booster, Julius Shulman.
California continued for years to be a source of architectural experimentation. Between 1945 and 1966, the now-defunct magazine Arts & Architecture (1938–1967) commissioned a group of prominent architects to design so-called Case Study Houses, efficient and inexpensive homes that could help ease the housing shortage after World War II. Most were in the Los Angeles area, by architects including Neutra, Eero Saarinen, Pierre Koenig and Charles and Ray Eames, and were made famous by some now highly collectible Shulman photographs. Meanwhile, California developer Joseph Eichler built more than 11,000 "California Modern" ranch houses, mostly in northern California, between 1950 and 1974. (These sleek and airy, affordable homes were a far cry from the barebones tract-community Levittowns emerging on the East Coast, which paid more attention to economies than style.)
California Modernism caught the public zeitgeist, fueled by its practicality and by the forward-looking can-do optimism that emerged after the war. Design, too, was moving in exciting new directions. Note the plural. This mid-century furniture covers a wide swath, and the designers can be roughly segmented into three groups, none making furniture that remotely resembled your grandmother’s living room. Let’s call them "hot," "warm" and "cool," recognizing that this is a loose schematic and that many designers can’t be neatly pigeonholed.
Designers in the first group made luxurious, elegant and often dramatic pieces for wealthy clients, some of whom, of course, belonged to the affluent entertainment industry, which had a penchant for eclectic glamour. Their furniture complemented both the au naturel California ranch houses and the sumptuous mansions of Beverly Hills. The most decorative designer in this grouping was László, who was noted as much for his elegant interiors as his architecture. His furniture, much of it customized and handmade, was characterized by bold colors and sumptuous textures of lacquer, veneer, marble, gold leaf and even handwoven fabrics.
James Mont, working out of New York, played to the swank sophistication of the silver screen. Fairly noir-ish, he created extravagantly glamorous and sometimes over-the-top custom interiors. His workmanship was superb; he is noted for his hand-rubbed finishes—pickled, stained, laminated, gilded, lacquered. Mont could be sculpturally elegant but also elaborately ornate, running to a mid-century West Coast style sometimes referred to as Hollywood Regency. Other designers who appealed to this rich-or-famous clientele on both coasts include Tommi Parzinger, who is known for his luxurious yet tailored style and generous use of metal in the details; architect/designer Samuel Marx, who could do both austere and curvaceous (and is the subject of the book UltraModern: Samuel Marx Architect, Designer, Art Collector by dealer Liz O’Brien and published by Pointed Leaf Press in 2007); Beverly Hills actor/designer/decorator Billy Haines; Karl Springer, associated with interesting materials such as reptile skins, shagreen and parchment; and T.H. Robsjohn-Gibbings, he of the neoclassical bent.
American Modernism got a kick-start when emigrating European architects, in the period between the world wars, created innovative houses in Southern California that spoke to the uniqueness of the state’s climate, topography and paucity of tradition. Richard Neutra and Rudolf Schindler, both Austrian-born, and the Hungarian Paul László created renegade one-story homes that blurred the line between inside and outside, with an abundant use of glass that created light-filled, airy living spaces (enabled by post and beam architecture). Their work gained national attention, not least because of the acclaimed architectural art photography of their friend and booster, Julius Shulman.
California continued for years to be a source of architectural experimentation. Between 1945 and 1966, the now-defunct magazine Arts & Architecture (1938–1967) commissioned a group of prominent architects to design so-called Case Study Houses, efficient and inexpensive homes that could help ease the housing shortage after World War II. Most were in the Los Angeles area, by architects including Neutra, Eero Saarinen, Pierre Koenig and Charles and Ray Eames, and were made famous by some now highly collectible Shulman photographs. Meanwhile, California developer Joseph Eichler built more than 11,000 "California Modern" ranch houses, mostly in northern California, between 1950 and 1974. (These sleek and airy, affordable homes were a far cry from the barebones tract-community Levittowns emerging on the East Coast, which paid more attention to economies than style.)
California Modernism caught the public zeitgeist, fueled by its practicality and by the forward-looking can-do optimism that emerged after the war. Design, too, was moving in exciting new directions. Note the plural. This mid-century furniture covers a wide swath, and the designers can be roughly segmented into three groups, none making furniture that remotely resembled your grandmother’s living room. Let’s call them "hot," "warm" and "cool," recognizing that this is a loose schematic and that many designers can’t be neatly pigeonholed.
Designers in the first group made luxurious, elegant and often dramatic pieces for wealthy clients, some of whom, of course, belonged to the affluent entertainment industry, which had a penchant for eclectic glamour. Their furniture complemented both the au naturel California ranch houses and the sumptuous mansions of Beverly Hills. The most decorative designer in this grouping was László, who was noted as much for his elegant interiors as his architecture. His furniture, much of it customized and handmade, was characterized by bold colors and sumptuous textures of lacquer, veneer, marble, gold leaf and even handwoven fabrics.
James Mont, working out of New York, played to the swank sophistication of the silver screen. Fairly noir-ish, he created extravagantly glamorous and sometimes over-the-top custom interiors. His workmanship was superb; he is noted for his hand-rubbed finishes—pickled, stained, laminated, gilded, lacquered. Mont could be sculpturally elegant but also elaborately ornate, running to a mid-century West Coast style sometimes referred to as Hollywood Regency. Other designers who appealed to this rich-or-famous clientele on both coasts include Tommi Parzinger, who is known for his luxurious yet tailored style and generous use of metal in the details; architect/designer Samuel Marx, who could do both austere and curvaceous (and is the subject of the book UltraModern: Samuel Marx Architect, Designer, Art Collector by dealer Liz O’Brien and published by Pointed Leaf Press in 2007); Beverly Hills actor/designer/decorator Billy Haines; Karl Springer, associated with interesting materials such as reptile skins, shagreen and parchment; and T.H. Robsjohn-Gibbings, he of the neoclassical bent.
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