The Search for Simple
Of all the various possible ways to approach interior design, we’d imagine the one least likely to be assimilated for residential decor would be “Brutalism.”
Yes, there are styles which seem to repudiate engagement with abundant variety, rich ornament, layering, decoration, legacy cultural symbolism—or even physical comfort—and they each have their emphatic advocates. Witness the fans (and marketing) for interior designed modes like: Minimalism, Simplicity, [Marie] Condoized Uncluttering, Archetypalism, Rustic, “Zen”, Getting Back To Nature, Tuscan, and some of the decorative/design choices made by people with serious commitment to a Green ethic. Even Hygge, with its focus on cozy comfort, still composes with a rather minimalist palette.
Part of this is the desire to shear off the—to use Chesterton’s phrase— “bottomless botherations” of modern life: the ever-increasing accumulation of things and habits which seem to get in the way of authenticity and which destroy focus. It’s not a new desire, and goes back thousands of years: nearly every initiative to create a monastic community has material purification (or purging) as one of its practices. In the early 20th Century, architect-designer Charles Ashbee moved his Guild of Handicraft from polluted (physically and spiritually) London to the clean, green Cotswalds, in search of “the simple life.” If we want other examples (which fully manifested in the design of their objects and buildings), one need look no further than the Shakers—or the manifesto (and Walden home) of Thoreau.
When made consciously, none of these moves to simplification are bad choices. They all have their charm—and some real contributions to make to an individual’s (and community’s) mental, ethical, physical, and aesthetic wellbeing.
But—for home decor—Brutalism too?
Rudolph spoke and wrote extensively about architecture—but “Brutalism” was not a term embraced by him. Moreover, it is a limiting term: given the breadth of work Rudolph did (in every material)—that one word does not even begin to fairly characterize the broad range of his creativity. So “Brutalism” is a term about which we’re careful (and use with plenty of qualifiers). Even so, it can be profound and powerful as an architectural direction—but It seems the least likely mode to be applied to the interior decor of homes—the very realm most identified with comfort.
Can “Brutalism” become a product: sell-able and trade-able?
As observed above, other approaches to creating a life have become a “style”—with manifestations in media (magazines, books, TV shows), workshops, and finally catalogs and stores filled with objects that reflect the choices and “look” entwined with the type of life one has chosen. This has been commented about by distinguished philosophers and social commentators. Who wouldn’t agree with Immanuel Wallenstein that we are seeing…
“…the thrust towards the commodification of everything.”
And perhaps that’s due to the need to feed the hunger for a never-ending string of new stimulations and diversions—or as Andrei Codrescu has put it:
“Matter of fact, the only certainty driving the economy is the certainty that boredom at faster and faster rates is inevitable.”
So perhaps, in the search for the ever more novel, Brutalism too can be sold as the latest thing…
Brutalism Enters The Residential Interior Design Market
Welcome to Furniture, Lighting & Decor, which, by its own self-description, is the “only one-stop information source covering the furniture, lighting and home decor markets.” and which covers “lighting and fans as well as home decor categories like mirrors, pillows, wall decor, furniture, rugs, tabletop and more. It goes to 40,000 purchase influencers in print and digitally.”
The November 2019 issue has a fascinating article on the recent Masion & Objet trade show in Paris, in which Patti Carpenter (the magazine’s editorial advisor, and a Global Trend Ambassador for Maison & Object) reported on the trends she observed at the event. She discerned “…a shot of spontaneous modernity and comforting classicism, harkening back to the foundations of design.”
The 12 trends she noted were: strong showings for the colors of coral, minty greens, mustard, vegetal greens, and mid-tone blues. For forms, styles and materials, in evidence were the appearance of shearling and curly textiles, “striking stripes”, arched forms (in cabinets, frames, panels, and lighting), capsule shapes (“enhancing each piece with spherical style”), beetles as a decorative motif, and “classic Greco-Roman expression that offers new inspiration in a time of upheaval.”
And also she found “Brutalist Beauty” — characterizing objects that are “… embracing the solid, imposing aesthetic of the Brutalist school of architecture, which stands out with singular individuality.”
Is this Brutalism? Is this beauty?
We’ll be the first ones to agree that many examples of Brutalism can have a special beauty of their own. Sometimes that beauty is in powerful forms and proportions, in other instances it comes out of the play of scale or materials (and especially the use of materials in unexpected ways, as in the chair at the top of this post). Sometimes it in the domain of what Edmund Burke characterized as the Sublime: participating (to use Plato’s term) in the kind of beauty and emotions evoked by the mega-manifestations of nature—a mountain range or a vast valley.
But for interior decor?
Well, why not? The objects shown in the article certainly have aesthetic merit and strength-of-form (and they all seem to share an affinity with London’s Post Office Tower, which is sometimes identified as an example of Brutalist architecture.)
But we can think of other objects—furniture—that could be stronger contenders for Brutalist decor. Scott Burton’s furniture might be a candidate:
Donald Judd was an artist who was intimately concerned with architecture and design—and his work in furniture might truly apply:
Then there’s the furniture designs of Ducatteau, like the chair at the top of this article.
As for other kinds of interior furnishings, one could look to this example of lighting—the Thorn chandelier:
Finally, we’d offer this example of a possible Brutalist home decorative object: one that is simultaneously calm, direct, and powerful. Its frank and unapologetic exhibit of the essence of its materials results in a work of design and craftsmanship that is both elegant and strong (brutally strong?) Of course we’re referring to the work of a legend in the domain of design and craftsmanship: George Nakashima: