The red chair

I have to start this little ramble by telling you that I am not overly fond of red. My dream rooms are generally filled with taupes, creams, pale sage greens and hints of gold, a serene palette that makes my retinas purr with contentment and almost puts me into...let's say, a silken swoon.

Then one day I was idly leafing through an old issue of Architectural Digest, admiring the interiors of a lovely English castle. I turned a page, and I froze. What was this? Plunked sassily down in the middle of a room filled with soothing hues -- a red chair!

The sudden snap of color jolted my senses, as if I had just chewed on a handful of coffee beans. I looked at that chair and thought, wow.

You know how once you notice something you've never paid attention to before, you start seeing it everywhere? So it is with red chairs. Looking for them is more fun than truffle hunting! More fruitful, too. 

Pretty soon I found these in a book about Provence interiors. Two Bloody Marys in a serene garden? Or something like that.

Okay, so maybe these technically aren't chairs, but, really! They add almost psychedelic punch to this otherwise quiet environment.

 

Ivory, cream, white, and...red chairs!

 

 A shy, sweet corner...then, Carmen emerges!

Via tumblr

This is one of my all-time favorites. Not just red, but red and striped. Like waving a red flag 

in front of...a decorator.

Via Pinterest

Are two matching red chairs better than one? This room would look gorgeous either way.

Another red chair duo, in a bed and breakfast in Bruges, Belgium. This room 
looks good enough to eat. Or wear.

via Belgian Pearls

A trio of chairs, a trio of Venetian mirrors at Ca D'Zan in Sarasota. I just knew I'd find a place for this photo someday, and here it is.

Here's a sneak peek at Michael S. Smith's new book, Building Beauty: The Alchemy of Design. 

What a chair. What a room!

Red and white chair with a red ottoman in the dramatic white entrance of a house in Buenos Aires. Now, where would you look if that ottoman wasn't there?

via The New York Times

Don't you just want to run out and buy a red chair?  Or slipcover one you already have? If nothing else, make some pasta with red sauce tonight. It will be a good start, and maybe you can work your way up to something bigger. Be brave! 

© 2013 by A Silken Swoon. All rights reserved.

 

Ca D'Zan, Part II

Let's see...where were we?

Oh yes, Sarasota-by-the-Bay, or The Ringlings Do It Right.
For do it right they did, down to the very last intricately molded hinge,
exotic marble tile, and gleaming nickel faucet.

Ca D'Zan's bedrooms, in the style of the day, were rather small and simple
in comparison to the splendor downstairs. But not too small or simple.
You just couldn't fit a 30,000-pipe organ that cost a cool $1 million
into the guest bedroom, that's all.

As we came up the marble staircase, we seemed to have made a transition
from Italy to France, far quicker than Alitalia could have done.
John Ringling's bedroom features a pair of Napoleonic beds
(what is it with rich men and Napoleon?)...

...and his bathroom contains the requisite marble bathtub 
carved from one piece of stone. 

I would like to know--did they have cranes in 1925?
If not, I shudder to think of what it took to get this tub up the stairs.
Imagine trying to get a grip on a few thousands pounds of marble!

Monsieur's closet, with some snappy, Tom Wolfe-like attire, perfect
for those warm Florida winters.

And, from John Ringling's window, a glimpse of the stunning 
terrace and bay.

 Breezing down the hallway. Literally all of the windows in this house were
constructed of leaded glass with large, tinted panes of 
soft gold, green, and rose, which created the magical effect of a 
perpetual indoor sunset. I don't know about you, but this would put me
in a good mood pretty much all of the time.

Mabel Ringling's intimate boudoir. This room didn't do a whole lot for me,
but oh, her private bath! There is room for rapture in there.

A delicately painted panel on a closet door. There were, if I remember
correctly, four or five of these.

I believe this was a guest bath. Now, I  would never choose to do a bathroom
with violet tiles, but I wouldn't turn this one down, either.
Note the marble toilet seat. I'm speechless.

And now we get to perhaps the best part of this property, the 
many-kinds-of-marble rear terrace that stretches beguilingly out into 
glittering Sarasota Bay.

Walking along the promenade, I expected to hear a gondolier's voice at any moment.

After a great deal of sighing over the beauty of it all, I walked down the steps
to where the waves were gently lapping at the very solid shore. 
This is where the Ringlings docked their 125-foot yacht. 
Nice going, John and Mabel!

Really, imagine the parties you could hold here. I'm thinking of that scene in
Sabrina where the guests are in ball gowns and tuxes, dancing under
the stars.

 I leave you with this humble image from the kitchen 
(sorry, I'm obsessed).
Doesn't it just make you want to pound a chicken breast into submission?

                      

(c) 2013 A Silken Swoon. All rights reserved. Photography by Eileen and property of A Silken Swoon. 

Ca D'Zan, Part I

Say the words "house tour," and I respond pretty much like Pavlov's dog 

to the ringing of a bell. So it was with great delight that I was

able to take a tour of Ca D'Zan, the Ringling Mansion,

in Sarasota, Florida last week.

When a house cost $1.5 million to build in 1925, you know it's going to

be pretty special. It didn't hurt that Mabel Ringling had

fallen in love with Venice on a trip to Italy and envisioned a house

that looked like a doge's palace. The results do not disapppoint.

The thrills begin when you walk through the garden...

 ...and come around a curve to see an amazing facade crafted of stucco, 

terra cotta, and what must be thousands of beautiful glazed tiles.

 Why, thank you, I'd love to come in. 

 The door hardware is drop-dead gorgeous. 

 As are the wrought iron details.

 Once inside, we were treated to a taste of "Venetian Gothic" style. I would

call this the Downton Abbey of the South, wouldn't you?

 The breakfast room. Look at that green crystal chandelier!

With all that spendor around me, I think my favorite room might have been

the kitchen. I love this simple, elegant tableau (without those darn ropes).

 What a fascinating sink, with that serpentine divider. I do think I might trade in
my farmhouse sink for this one!

There were so many sets of china, I lost count.

This darling decanter had babies.

 For some reason, I became fixated on this elegant blue and white vase as the one item

I would have liked to carry out with me.

It's easy to ask yourself, while being squired around a 36,000-square-foot pile such

as this one, "Who needs all this?" As fate would have it, John and Mabel Ringling

didn't enjoy it for long. Mabel died just three years after the house

was completed, and her husband followed a few years later.

Because of the stock market crash in 1929, John Ringling had 

just $300 at the end of his life. But don't feel sorry for him -- this is just one of the many beautiful houses he lived in while he still had his fortune. At least Mabel had the

good sense to make a graceful exit before the crash.

Next post: the breathtaking terrace on Sarasota Bay, bedrooms, and bathrooms.

(c) 2013 by A Silken Swoon. All rights reserved.