In with the old and in with the new: Studioilse, led by Ilse Crawford, celebrated both in this Regency home. Photo by Magnus Marding.
At least twice a week in an online group about old homes that I belong to, a member will comment something to the effect “Ugh, that modern chandelier/dining table/sofa/art doesn’t belong in this house.” To which I usually comment with an 🙄 and, if I’m feeling especially sassy, something about refusing to live in a museum.
There’s nothing wrong with outfitting an 18th-century house with 18th-century furnishings. But it’s not the only, or even the best, way to proceed.
Over the years I’ve found that Americans are much more likely than Europeans to believe older homes should be kitted out in a manner that matches the architecture. (At least they don’t go so far as to snub enhancements such as indoor plumbing.) Maybe that’s because America doesn’t have many older homes, certainly not compared with the Old World. (It is called the Old World for a reason.) Residences built in the 19th century, let alone the 18th, are relatively rare in the States, hence the need on the part of many Americans to protect them as if they were an original 1959 Barbie still miraculously in its box.
In many areas of Europe, however, the housing stock remains rich in centuries-old buildings. These homes are just that: homes, not period pieces. The period features are usually kept intact (huzzah!). No self-respecting Swedes with an iota of taste would remove a kakelugn—an often-spectacular tiled stove—from an 18th- or 19th-century house. But that doesn’t mean those same Swedes feel obliged to limited their decor to Mora clocks (glorious though they are), Gustavian cupboards, and flat-weave rugs.
That stove is a kakelugn. Fabulous, isn’t it? Photo courtesy of Gabriel.
In fact, I’d argue that Swedes and Belgians are the masters of incorporating modern and contemporary furnishings into historic residences.
Example A: a sitting room in a Stockholm home for sale. I think the adherence to a neutral Gustavian palette ensures harmony between the ornate millwork and the sleek furniture.
Example B: a dining room in an Antwerp townhouse, also for sale. This was the city’s first Art Nouveau residence. I’d argue that the minimalism of the furniture ensures that the magnificence of the architectural ornamentation gets it due.
Perhaps introducing elements of contemporary style is the best way to honour the artistry of older homes. For one thing, replacing a Georgian home’s heavy draperies with soft white curtains, swapping out a multitude of ornate chairs for a clean-lined sectional, and editing down an excess of chinoiserie to a few choice pieces ensures that the architecture doesn’t get lost in the crowd.
In this room by Jessica Helgerson Interior Design, the minimalist furniture complements rather than competes with the curvaceous fireplace surround . And the juxtaposition of the mod chandelier with the classic ceiling medallion is delightful. Photo by Aaron Leitz.
For another, furnishing an older home with newer designs is a testament to the timelessness and versatility of classic architecture. It’s difficult to imagine a Palm Springs Modernist home outfitted with Louis XIV chairs or a rococo gold mirror: The house’s proportions and features are incompatible with anything not equally sleek. But one could argue that older homes were designed not only for their time but for all time.
This home by B3 Designers is a brilliant example of modified colour drenching. Painting the wall mouldings the same shade as the wall makes a more welcoming background for the contemporary furnishings, but painting the crown moulding and the ceiling a contrasting white honors the room’s Victorian heritage.
Bonus: When you incorporate non-period furnishings into a period home, you’re ensuring that the result is one of a kind. Anybody can fill a Victorian home with Victorian furniture, rugs, and lighting. But only you could incorporate pieces from disparate styles in your own unique way.
