It’s possible you’ve spent hours foraging flea markets, wondering how a Russel Wright pitcher or an Eames shell chair or a Jens Risom credenza might fit into your home décor. But did you ever stop to wonder how those pieces may have figured into the homes of their own makers? Leslie Williamson, a San Francisco–based photographer, did — and the result is Handcrafted Modern, a new book that offers an intimate glimpse inside the houses of 14 of America’s most beloved mid-century furniture designers.
Williamson writes that the book was born of pure, old-fashioned curiosity: “What would an architect build for himself, without the demands of a client upon him?” she wondered. “Would he experiment? Would what an architect builds for himself be the purest manifestation of his creative vision?” But as she immersed herself in the project it became less about the big questions and more about the tiny details, the items that told the story of who each designer was as a person rather than as a “demigod of design,” as she puts it. Williamson photographed personal artifacts as much as furnishings — Walter Gropius’s bath towel, Ray Eames’s bedside bobby pins, Vladamir Kagan’s shower, Jens Risom’s drafting tools — and in doing so, she’s created a warmer, more humanizing portrait of modernism than has perhaps ever been captured in print before.We’ve excerpted some of our favorite details in the following slideshow.
Irving Harper: Harper’s Rye, New York, farmhouse is filled with vintage Herman Miller, and no wonder: As a designer in George Nelson’s office, Harper was the vision behind classics like the Marshmallow Sofa. Even more fascinating for Williamson were Harper’s paper sculptures (pictured), which filled both the house and a massive barn out back. Made from everyday materials like toothpicks, pins, and straws, they were Harper’s main creative outlet post-retirement. “It kept me sane,” he says.
Irving Harper’s desk
Russel Wright: The American Modern dinnerware designer — who also created furniture and textiles — used his Garrison, New York, home as a canvas for material experimentation. “I gave up counting when I reached twenty different treatments [on the walls and doors],” Williamson writes. “Pine needles mixed in paint on the living room wall, a hundred butterflies laminated in clear plastic in his daughter’s bathroom, a door covered in the bark of a birch tree (above), and so on.”
Russel Wright’s home.
Vladamir Kagan: “Each room unfolds into the next as an unexpected surprise,” Williamson writes of the designer’s Park Avenue apartment, which he shares with his wife Erica Wilson. In the living room sits Kagan’s 1953 leather Contour chair, surrounded by abstract paintings by Frank Stella and Joe Crum and a cagelike enclosure for trees and other greenery.
Vladimir Kagan’s home
Walter Gropius: The Bauhaus founder built his home in Lincoln, Massachusetts in 1938, and thanks to his wife, Ise, the house remains as it did when he lived there. Williamson was able to capture details like a cookbook left on the kitchen counter, “complete with penciled-in notes on how ‘Gropi’ preferred his duck a l’orange,” and Ise’s red evening dress, which hangs in the couple’s dressing room.
Jens Risom: Flanking the desk in the office of Risom’s New Canaan, Connecticut, bungalow are two golden Rs, left over from the designer’s Jens Risom Design, Inc. showrooms. Over lunch, Risom gave Williamson some decorating advice: “Good design goes with good design. It doesn’t matter what style or period.”
Jens Risom’s bar
J.B. Blunk: The late designer’s home in Inverness, California, is now run as an artists’ residence, and it was the only home in which Williamson had the pleasure of staying the night. Blunk built the one-room cabin with his wife in the early 1960s; strapped for cash, the two salvaged the majority of the wood in the house from nearby beaches, including this hand-carved redwood sink in the bathroom.
There's a certain taboo attached to pop stars who attempt to forge acting careers, and vice versa. Painters aren't normally supposed to take up fashion design, and just because you're a great photographer doesn't mean you'll make a great chef. But here at Sight Unseen, where we attempt to travel to the very heart of creativity, we delight in any and all cross-disciplinary meanderings, which is why our ears perked up when we heard about American Fashion Designers at Home, by Rima Suqi. Even if some of the more than 100 CFDA members featured in the book hired professionals to craft their spaces, the translation of their aesthetics from one genre to the other is an endless source of curiosity.
If you were familiar only with Uhuru’s work, it would be enough to surmise that the Brooklyn-based furniture designers are experts at creating something beautiful from practically nothing. (The formal term for this, we’re told, is up-cycling.) In the half-decade since RISD grads Jason Horvath and Bill Hilgendorf have been designing their own line, they’ve produced chairs from Kentucky bourbon barrels, loungers from the Ipe wood planks of a demolished Coney Island boardwalk, and scrapwood stools so stylish they were recently picked to decorate the café at New York’s SANAA-designed New Museum. But while it's true Uhuru are a resourceful bunch, step into their sprawling Red Hook studio and any assumptions you might have about their bootstraps process all but disappear.
This story was originally published on June 9, 2010. Veuve Clicquot's renovated Hotel du Marc is set to open this fall. // In their most famous works, Fernando and Humberto Campana construct by a process of accumulation, looping yards of sail rope around seat frames or folding velvet tubing in on itself to create amoeba-like sofas. So it's fitting that visitors to the brothers’ São Paulo studio should find behind its unremarkable metal grate rooms and shelves stacked high with stuff — weird material experiments by the studio’s half-dozen in-house artisans, miniature models and prototypes, artifacts the brothers picked up on their travels, miles of scrap, and dozens and dozens of sketches. In some ways, it all seems an extension of São Paulo itself, a city of 20 million that in the last century has sprawled so far and wide it’s annexed, at last count, five different downtown areas.