Too-often invoked by architects and interior designers–and those who write about them–to describe rooms that defy convenient categorization, “timeless” has become the unfortunate adjective of first resort. Rarely helpful and only occasionally accurate, it is often applied to anonymous-looking spaces, spaces that do not automatically lend themselves to being pigeonholed as contemporary, traditional or country, but occupy, instead, some vague stylistic domain seemingly free of clocks and calendars.
Now, though, veteran design writer Bo Niles has made an earnest, ambitious–and largely successful–attempt to legitimize and term and codify “timeless” in a coffee-table book format.
“Timeless Design” (PBC International, $34.95) is a lavishly photographed tome of 33 homes created by 27 architects and interior designers from these shores as well as abroad.
Niles is the first to concede that the book may be subject to “merciless criticism” because the designation of timelessness is an arbitrary one. Like beauty itself, what is timeless may be in the eye of the beholder.
Her credentials as an arbiter of style, however, make her as qualified as anyone to decide what is and isn’t timeless. Her first book, “White by Design,” published in 1984, was hugely successful and is still in print. She wrote three other books on design and decorating, and during the course of 20 years worked as an editor for The Architectural Forum, House & Garden, American Home and Country Living magazines.
Like its subject matter, the book is a concession to the amorphous nature of timeless design and the myriad ways in which it can be interpreted.
“Frankly,” Niles says, “I have a fairly purist point of view of what constitutes timeless design. But for the book, I tried to respect the particular vision of an individual architect or designer. Different designers have quite different takes on it, but that makes it less subject to dogma and more accessible to more people.”
Variation aside, however, Niles insists there are certain basic principles associated with building and decorating in a timeless fashion.
“A living space,” she writes in the book’s introduction, “must reveal an essential integrity and harmony both within and without. (It) must be appropriate to its setting and to the lifestyle of its occupants. To be livable, manageable and comfortable, spaces work best when they are restrained in demeanor and pared down in decoration.”
Structural elements, she says, tend to be “distilled to their essence”; furnishings “assume a stylishness tethered to no particular era.”
An illustration of that principle is evident in a vintage Chicago apartment. Interior designer Janet Schirn installed a clearly contemporary glass-topped dining table and four white armchairs in a small window bay but left the traditional architectural elements, including hefty crown moldings and woodwork, a strategy that combines history with the here and now.
At first glance, some readers will inevitably regard some of the houses in the book as underfurnished extravagances. But physical, visual and emotional comfort, Niles says, can be measured in terms of quality, not just quantity.
“The finest materials, impeccable craftsmanship, and furnishings and accessories chosen with a connoisseur’s eye” can, even in limited amounts, convey a sense of warmth, luxury and the look of abundance. Spaciousness, which comes from editing furniture, accessories and artwork down to a can’t-live-without level, is a bonus.
It consists of just two easy chairs and a shared ottoman in the sitting area of a Washington, D.C., master bedroom by designer Mary Douglas Drysdale, for example. But the space immediately conveys a sense of long-lasting comfort and interpersonal intimacy.
Then again, like timeless style itself, minimalism is a matter of degree, and there is room for personal preference. The addition of an area rug, a side table or a reading lamp is always an option. Clutter, on the other hand, is a distraction.
“It’s really a matter of winnowing and culling and discriminating,” Niles says of the process of achieving a timeless room. “The idea isn’t to get down to the absolute necessities but to live with only those things that are deeply meaningful, look right and that serve you well, and getting rid of the extraneous stuff that tends to accumulate when you aren’t looking. That way the special things–sculpture, a collection, the elegant lines of a chair–have a chance to stand out and be appreciated and contribute to the personality of (the) room.”
In that regard, timelessness may be an idea whose time has come, coinciding as it does with a trend toward simple living, a trend fueled by a population that is aging and, after the acquisitive ’80s, thinning its bloated inventories of household goods.
Then again, pared down doesn’t mean pared to the bone. There’s still room for those requisite elements that give a home a distinctive personality.
San Antonio architects Ford, Powell & Carson, for example, used regional and rustic antiques, bleached mesquite floorboards and locally quarried stone to give a living room a deep-in-the-heart-of-Texas look that expressed pride of place and respect for the past.
California designers Jeffrey Goodman and Steven Charlton, on the other hand, deliberately neutralized the backgrounds of a 1950s Los Angeles home to allow the owners’ prized possessions–collections of photography, art, ceramics and glassware–to get the attention they deserve.
Still, it must be noted that the homes in “Timeless Design” are top-tier properties, artfully propped for photography and to showcase a designer’s or architect’s best work. One has to wonder while looking at picture-perfect palaces whether ordinary mortals can afford to aspire to such understated, extravagant frugality.
“But,” soothes Niles, “the less you spend on a lot of stuff, the more you have to spend on a few really good pieces that will stand the test of time, that aren’t trendy today and obsolete tomorrow. Timeless design is an investment. If you’re willing to approach it as an investment, it is going to last and be easier to maintain in the long run. Besides, sometimes you don’t need all the things you think you need–rugs and window treatments and lots of furniture. If you think carefully and shop carefully, you may well be able to afford to spend more on high-quality goods.”
In the book, except for a pair of inviting easy chairs here and there, matched sets are conspicuous by their absence. Like clutter, it seems, predictability via repetition and overly coordinated decorating can thwart timelessness. Instead, sofas and chairs are typified by pleasing, straightforward profiles and neutral-hued fabrics. They are subdued and suitable, rarely showy, though often distinctive. Even though they are usually the largest elements in the room, timeless seating pieces are exceedingly considerate of a space’s other attributes–its architecture, artwork, window treatments and surface finishes.
Paint colors, again with a few exceptions, also tend toward the neutrals–warm whites, gray, celadons, beiges, tans–usually in the same intensity as the colors of the upholstery or draperies. Stronger color comes in low, but still effective, doses–a red bedspread, an electric blue blown-glass vase, oil paintings, a painted antique secretary or a wall of books.
Some rooms in the book have wool sisal carpeting or subdued area rugs, but bare wood is clearly the floor of choice, whether light or dark, for the practitioners of timeless design. Window treatments are often of the barely there type or dispensed with altogether, far from the flouncy and flagrant fabric-by-the-mile approach so often employed these days.
Timeless design is easier and more difficult than it looks. There are fewer decisions to be made because there are, typically, fewer elements to fret over. But it’s more difficult because a room has to be conscientiously composed of elements that contribute equally to a cohesive whole.
“Like all decorating, timeless design is really a matter of educating yourself, of training your eye and refining your tastes, and you can get better with practice,” Niles says.
