ARCHITECTURAL DIGEST April 2008 - Review

I know when the placement of a piece of furniture works because it is invariably adopted by the cat, who has excruciatingly picky taste. However, when I’m not consulting the cat on matters of interior design, I do look to such sources as professional design books available in the public library and that ever faithful subscription to ARCHITECTURAL DIGEST.

Now ARCHITECTURAL DIGEST, or “AD” as its intimates know it, is the most pompous, bombastic-perpetrator-of-style magazine you’re likely to run into on a casual graze of the magazine rack. It is the glossy tabloid of the rich and the infamous, or those affluent enough to afford a complete lack of taste.

I truly do love AD, you must understand this, its thick pages, the heavy weight like money in my hand. It is the best over-priced subject of my pot shots, and I have annotated the April 2008 issue for pure pleasure. Feel free to follow along in your own copy, as I will reference page numbers.

Photo front cover – light, airy, tropical. You can’t really “swing” on those couches because they’re suspended by FOUR ropes to the ceiling, instead of two, but they must be easy to clean under. Furthermore, look at the view out the window—it’s a freaking bridge! This real estate is half way built under a causeway!

The Connecticut house design by Susan Green (pp. 84-90) – she is hideous and has done nothing new or remarkable. It’s a study in conservatism.

Mongolian yurts in the Serengeti (pp. 114-120) with bed coverings from India? Everything is foldable, everything is moveable, okay, this is innovative and practical. Thank goodness they didn’t try to picture the army of servants it takes to actually fold up one of these yurts and pack it in an umbrella case. Still, here is creation spawned from amino acids. Here is world-wide cross pollination of style and practicality informing at a new level. It works. As long as you have that army of servants, it works.

Meat Loaf house – Nice tones. Same as everywhere. Who cares? It is unremarkable, except to know that it’s Meat Loaf’s, who has specifically non-decorated the interior as rock and roll. Come on! This is Bat out of Hell, how interesting is it to rebel against that? Sports memorabilia? His house is a study in squandered opportunity; it looks like the reflection of unwasted youth. Furthermore, look at page 140, then flip back to page 138—it’s the same damn table! Well, not the exact piece of furniture, but it’s two candle sticks, a plant and a bowl, same arrangement, even same angle of the photograph!

Scandinavian heights over Central Park (pp. 164-235) is warm and delicate. I like. You could complain that because the wall and ceiling surfaces are painted white on white that the interest of the architecture is hidden; however, for the context that the designers create, the effect is like layers of a snow drift.

D. C. house renewal (pp. 172-179) is summed up by the motto pictured in the library above the fireplace: “Remember the Dead.”

I’d love to write a story about a person who lives in that glass house in California (pp. 182-191), a fish tank overlooking the Pacific. Of course the story would end when an earthquake brings all pretension smashing down in shards of lethal edges.

Thai died at Bangkok House (pp. 192-197) in Bangkok, Thailand. This was probably a really gorgeous dark wood interior, which now looks like an over-sized bird cage for humans. Is that like a giant stadium looking over the trees onto the grounds? See the turret on the left, page 192? Maybe they rent out the yard for game day parking.

New York glamour (pp. 198-203) looks like it was highlighted in lipstick. I love New York. X. That couch with the heavy teal curtaining…what do they DO on that couch?

Found modern and unlikely art in San Francisco (pp. 206-213) – I wasn’t going to make any comments at all about this magazine, about this issue…I was going to keep quiet, keep my thoughts to myself, be polite until I came upon this article, at which point I must, I really must express some opinions. First, it is illegal to possess any remains of a marine mammal without special permitting. Exhibit A, mounted on pedestal page 207 is a bleached whale vertebra, as identified by the magazine’s captioner. If it isn’t bad enough that AD condones use fur fabrics and leather upholstery! All of Greenpeace and whale watchers should descend upon this dwelling and demand the proper curation of this ecofact. Furthermore, and next to a leather chair I might add, is a cobbler’s bench, probably the symbol of oppression for some poor generations of shoe menders, which here becomes a side table to the effluent (yes, that’s the word I meant). Monet’s self portrait? Good gracious I’d like to have a portion of these people’s credit line, though I must say, even Monet looks bored with them. And the culinary studio—aren’t we over the checkerboard kitchen? This is the pinnacle of pretension.

Bora Bora looks just like Disney Disney (pp. 214-219), still I wouldn’t mind a few nights booked there, charged to that resident in San Francisco.

I like the wild craziness of the style in Manhattitude (pp. 222-227), except I could do without the trunks, especially the bashed damaged one that keeps appearing—it’s pictured in the sitting room and the living room, watch closely.

Interesting reflections in Belgravia (pp. 228-233). Did they move that mirror from the entrance hall into the library, or did the house come with identical images? The couches of the library are vibrant rather than relaxing. Those must be some pretty boring books on the shelves. And why is there a lamp on the floor by the window? Okay, I’m really not sure what a lot of the art is in here, but the big black bug thing framed on the wall in the study looks like the portrait of a black widow spider, just the subject for a husband’s office, no?

So here are harmony and irony replete within the pages of this April issue of AD. Ah, and here is May’s.