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Showing posts with label America. Show all posts
Showing posts with label America. Show all posts

Reconsidering the Kast


For years armoire cabinets have served us well. They were a place to organize, store and conceal clothing, bedding, towels and more recently, clunky televisions and stereos. Since we have upgraded to slick flat-screened TVs, iPods and enamored with the minimal look, we have found new ways to keep excess out of sight; we simply don’t want these massive pieces of furniture anymore.

The origin of a large storage piece goes well back in time. In the Netherlands, the Dutch created a similar piece known as the Kast or Kasten. By the seventeenth century, the Kast had become the most important piece of furniture in the house. It was a very functional and very impressive piece of furniture. It signified material success and a well-ordered household – two things the Dutch were known for. Filled with linens, needlework, porcelains, silver and pewter, the kast was kept locked, with the woman of the house in charge of the key.

Pieter de Hooch, Interior with a Woman Besides a Linen Chest


Typically located in the center hallway of a household, the Kast was huge, as much as eight feet in height and six feet wide. Because they were so large, they were often sold rather than moved. The kast was usually constructed in four sections. The upper section had two cupboard doors which opened to reveal shelves. That section was surmounted by a projecting, removable cornice. This upper section rested on a lower case piece which sometimes had a second set of cupboard doors or sometimes merely a single long drawer, or even two short drawers side-by-side for additional storage. The entire piece was raised on a fourth section of molding over bun feet. Often given to a bride before her wedding, a wealthy burgher would purchase one as a symbol of his financial success. It was elaborately adorned, paneled, carved, ebonized or inlaid with exotic veneers.

Cornelis de Man, Interior of a Townhouse


Dutch women had more rights than many other women throughout the Continent. Foreign travelers noted with horror that wives had the right to haul their husbands before magistrates to charge them with wife beating or to find them guilty of entering into a house of ill repute. Husbands could be publicly admonished or barred from taking communion. Women could even get their marriages annulled if a husband returned from sea with a venereal disease. Widows could inherit and administer their husband’s property, bequeath it or transfer it as they liked. Women were the keepers of the house and had the right to toss their husbands out the door for excessive drinking.


Cornelis de Man, Family Group at Dinner Table, 1658



In exchange for all these rights, women were encumbered with strict household duties. They cared for their home, husbands, children; they looked after the cooking, cleaning and outdoor gardens. A clean, well-ordered home was held in high esteem. It was considered free from wanton chaos which was apt to seep into unkempt households. The presence of the kast helped to keep this order.



The seventeenth century was the Golden Age of the Netherlands. Wealth flooded into port cities. The merchant class became prosperous. It was a period of high achievement in the arts and sciences. The Dutch burgher lived a much more affluent life than did any other merchants elsewhere.





The Dutch loved comfort and expensive items. Foreign travelers also noted the love and care that was lavished upon the Dutch home. Many Dutch burghers possessed considerable disposable incomes, and they thought nothing of spending a lot of money and effort to make their home a comfortable retreat.



In America the Kast was the most recognizable symbol of Dutch heritage, particularly in New York and New Jersey from the mid-seventeenth to the early nineteenth centuries. Their designs similar to their European counterparts, although the methods of construction were not as elaborate or sophisticated. Kasts were still very important household items.



Decoration could be painted ornamented with symbols associated with good fortune and fertility. Door panels painted with flowers and fruit, geometric forms often in grisaille which simulated carving on more elaborate and expensive furniture.


As industrialization gained speed in America, the cultural and practical functions of kast diminished. The kast gradually ceased to be made. Preserving and storing textiles became less important in the nineteenth-century household. Factories began producing inexpensive machine-made linens and cottons. Built-in cupboards and closets were designed in houses. The old and outdated Dutch cultural symbols that once decorated the kast no longer seemed relevant to a dynamic young nation. Inevitably with these changes, the kast faded away.


John Thain: America's New Sun King


Louis XIV (1638–1715), by Charles Le Brun

On July 18, 1668 in the gardens of Versailles, Louis XIV threw quite a fête for himself to celebrate his military victories. "Le Grand Divertissement royal," it was called, and cost one-third the yearly budget of Versailles. Royal parties were expensive. So Louis raised taxes -- relying heavily on the peasants -- and forced prosperous towns to pay homage of huge sums.

The Sun King was well known for his opulent extravagance. This is best exemplified by the construction of his palace at Versailles, his Hall of Mirrors and over the top baroque furnishings. Louis' motivation was not based just on his eye for luxury, but it was also a way of controlling the nobility, reducing their power and keeping a sharp eye for any potential rivals. Louis was flattered by all as much as he was feared. He insisted on his particular daily rituals, the Levee and the Coucher. Around 8:30 am the king, resting in his bed, would hear: “It is time, Sire”. The levee was a ceremonial rising just for him. Doctors, family and a few favored friends entered the king's bedroom where he was washed, combed, shaven and dressed. Then he slurped down a breakfast of broth with everyone standing around. It was estimated the attendants numbered one hundred, all male. At 11:30 pm, The Coucher, was performed -- a reverse, shortened version of the levee to celebrate Louis retiring to bed.



Skip to nearly four-and-a-half centuries later in America and I can’t help to see some similarities. John Thain’s task last year was to oversee the sale of Merrill Lynch to Bank of America Corporation and take over the bank's wealth management and corporate and investment banking divisions. He had to reduce expenses and fix the security firm. In order to get his wits about him, he needed to spend $1.2 million of the bank's money to lavishly redecorate his Merrill Lynch office while major layoffs were looming and the firm was going down in flames.

Thain hired (the fabulous) Michael Smith for $800,000 to create an environment where he could adequately think about this mess. Smith procured two area rugs for a total of $131,000, two guest chairs for $87,000, a nineteenth-century sideboard (mistakenly called a ‘credenza’) for $68,000, four pairs of drapes at $28,000, Roman shades for $11,000, a mahogany pedestal table at $25,000, a George IV Desk for $18,000, a sofa for $15,000; a custom coffee table for $16,000; Regency Chairs for $24,000 (personally, I question if they were period and designers out there: is this appropriate for a commercial application?); 40 yards of fabric for wall panels for $5,000, six wall sconces for $2,700, and a parchment covered trash can for $1,400.

In his private dining room he ordered six chairs for $37,000, a mirror for $5,000, and a chandelier for $13,000. And lastly, a $35,000 "commode on legs." (I assume this means a toilet and not a French dresser.)

Thain signed off on the purchases, as well as, "Labor to relamp the six wall sconces" for $3,000, and another payment of $30,000 to pay additional expenses Smith had incurred.

Michael Smith is being paid $100,000 to redecorate for the Obamas, which includes items from Target. (According to The Daily Beast), by the way.


We live in a society where an outrageous level of compensation is a justifiable reward for executives. Apparently, this level of extravagance is standard operating behavior. And apparently, high-profile CEO’s have the power, magnitude and all the glory of kings.

Are the rest of us mere peasants? According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics the national average salary is a little over $40,000, or in other words, approximately one thirtieth of Thain's expenses for the redecoration of his office.

Bank of America received $25 billion in bailout funds and then an additional $20 billion mid January while Thain spent $1.2 million to have his office redecorated out of the profits of the company as previous employers he axed were out of work. Merrill Lynch lost $56 billion from sub prime loans and the credit crisis, so what’s another $1.2 million, eh John? As Marie-Antoinette allegedly uttered a century later, “Let them eat cake?” – and we all know what happened to her.

Hey Thain, what principles were this great country founded upon?

(Thain resigned at the end of last month after being found out and has vowed to repay the funds. Must be a drop in the ocean from his end-of-the-year bonus.)

We Need More Space. We Must Have More Space!

Indians Viewing Landscape by Thomas Cole, 1827


One of the tenacious beliefs in America is that we need space. We don't have enough. We can’t get enough.

Consider our history. We first landed on the Atlantic shore, and from there moved inland to the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. From there we came out onto the rolling prairies of the Midwest, which soon flattened out into the Great Plains, which were then brought up short by the massive phalanx of the Rocky Mountains. We wanted all kinds of space, we demanded it, and then we quickly filled it up with our presence.

Americans don’t like to be fenced in. With a population of over 300 million people, the unthinkable is happening. We still covet big homes on large lots, located on wide, smoothly paved streets dotted with small newly planted trees. Big houses on big lots cost money. More money than most people have to spend.

From The Economic Cottage Builder, 1856



Early in the history of our country, the size of a house wasn’t important. Owning it, making it over into something inimitably our own, was. Back then, a home was both a refuge and a place of work. It was cozy and comfortable, without any frills or unnecessary accessories. It was where the family came together. Where they established their identity.

A small house was not a liability; it was efficient and affordable. Smallness was a virtue. The decoration was restrained. The woman of the house was to keep the premises tidy and functional. That was her job.

All this changed in the second half of the nineteenth century. With the acquisition of wealth, houses got bigger. Within the span of a few decades, the new middle class changed the concept of domesticity.

The Breaker House, designed by Richard Morris Hunt in 1895 for
Cornelius Vanderbilt II

Designed by McKim, Mead and White for Henry Villard and his family in 1882; completed in 1884. Villard went bankrupt three months after moving into his mansion.


Bigger houses meant more wall and floor space. And they needed to be decorated. Bare walls in a really big house were a sign of weak imagination. All that money and no decorations? The self-made moguls who were transforming the American economy needed to build houses that matched the grandiosity of their tax-free business enterprises. “So and so lives there,” people would whisper out in the streets. “The marble columns come all the way from Italy.”

Great Hall in the Villard House


It was important for these robber barons to strut and display their new-found wealth. Why accumulate money without flashing it around? So they built gigantic domiciles. They coffered the high ceilings, carved fireplaces into elaborate caverns, paneled the walls, installed stained glass windows and posted iron gates around their property to separate themselves from everyone else.

J Pierpont Morgan’s Drawing Room in New York, 1883
Decorated by the Herter Bros. in a style of “Pompeian inspiration … a mild gaiety of expression amid the aroma of perfect taste.”
The ivory white woodwork was sprinkled with gold.


They decorated the inside with artifacts that had virtually no meaning to them personally: suits of armor, oil paintings, statuary, tapestries, and oriental rugs. Some went as far as to have their furniture gilded to give it a smooth satiny finish – reminiscent of what the Sun King had. Above all, they needed to distinguish themselves from the other moguls, and also from the paltry efforts of the middle class.

George W. Child’s Drawing Room, 1870s
Paneled in aramanth wood, large mirrors,
Aubusson carpets and a “Byzantine” clock.


America was founded on principles of equality. The newly rich didn’t want equality. They didn’t want to have anything to do with earlier domestic designs. They thought that was homey and lame. They sent their decorators to Europe to strip complete rooms out of an old chateau in France, old-world palazzos in Italy, musty old castle in Britain paying their impoverished owners the lowest prices. They wanted anything they could find that was European that would cover up the tinselly newness of their new-found wealth.

Ames-Webster House, Boston, 1890s
Interior by Herter Brothers


Ironically, as they looted Europe of its architectural treasures they felt a need to recapture the past. Designed by a new generation of Paris Ècole trained architects, they developed a visual language based on classicism, in which architecture, painting and sculpture combined to express a new sense of national purpose. While a few American voices such as Louis Sullivan were calling for an expression to build with the latest technologies, materials and in a new progressive American style, the American millionaires didn’t want that. They looked to the past. They mimicked the past and added at will. Popular magazines published pictures of their grand houses, which alerted the middle class to the fact they had a long way to go to try and match the excesses of the really big robber barons.