Colour clash
Reading old fashion magazines and design periodicals from the twenties and thirties I noticed that colours tended to be described in a visual way, associating them with actual objects like foods or cultural artefacts. I imagine that this was helpful as fashion periodicals like the Tatler were printed completely in black and white, like the films that inspired a lot of fashion. So while modern art was exuberantly coloured, as artists experimented with colour theory, writers on fashion and interiors had to be more descriptive when it came to colour because of the visual limitations of the print matter and the colourful trends of the time. Take swimming costumes for example. When a writer described a fashionable look in a 1925 issue of Irish Tatler (‘The Swimming Costume Up-to-Date’) we can see representations of similar ensembles in graphic illustrations, but not in colour photography: ‘One I saw was of black, with bright orange trimmings on the tunic, which was flared… The cloak provided to wear over it was also in black, trimmed with a full orange collar, and the cap showed the same colour combination. Another was in mauve, trimmed with green, and I especially liked a deep blue that had purple bindings. This was provided with a reversible cloak, blue on one side and purple on the other’. In ‘Jazz Materials for Summer’ the author described patterns of lightening bolt motifs in green, black, white and grey (https://wordpress.com/post/candacenova.wordpress.com/17).
Typical colours mentioned in the periodicals were associated with things that were commonly known or understood then but are not now. For example ‘tango’ – which was orange-red – and ‘lido blue’… but lidos don’t really exist anymore, so is this akin to an ‘aqua’ blue, or an ultramarine? In interior design and architecture the same colour references featured. Often ‘buff’ was mentioned, which seems to have been a yellow-ish beige. Look at this 1939 description, from The Architect and Building News, of the interior colour scheme of the Showboat Lido in Maidenhead, Berkshire in England. Its colour scheme was eau-de-nil (a light green referencing the exotic Nile river and the Egyptian influence on design at the time, and popular in women’s clothing) and ‘flesh pink’. The restaurant was decorated in green and black with chromium fittings. The carpet in the ballroom was described as ‘tango’ and the border was black, a very Ballet Russes and typically art deco type of colour scheme (although this was late in the era).
Surfaces
Art Deco historian Alastair Duncan described the change in colour and surface treatment that took place towards the end of the jazzy twenties and into the streamlined 1930s. The use of vibrantly clashing colours waned as more muted colours were used, with a focus on textured surfaces. In a previous post I quoted from ‘The Lady of the House’ writing in Irish Tatler in 1931. The author revealed that: ‘Any elaboration of design, bold patterns or glaring colours are taboo this season’, advising that the best colours to adopt were green, blue, yellow, or coral. These were decidedly 1930s colours rather than the vivid, deep, clashing hues of the 1920s, and typical in interiors as well as clothing.
This 1937 description of The Comet roadhouse from the Architect’s Journal describes an interior with lots of 1930s glamour and whimsy: the balustrade of the stairs employed motifs of stars and moons, the walls were painted ‘shell pink’, the restaurant featured mirror tiles with aeroplanes and their smoke trails were etched in the peach-tinted glass. The carpet was zebra-patterned in brown and dull gold. The sitting rooms had floor to ceiling silver-gilt panels and a turquoise carpet. The entrance was in stippled plastic paint with ‘rounded angles everywhere’ – streamlining – with a floor and staircase in terrazzo of a light buff colour mixed with mother of pearl. This is a good demonstration of the move towards concentrating on surface materials rather than on surface pattern. In a way it was following in the wake of neo-plasticism in art, which concentrated on the surface of the canvas rather than on pictorial representation (as well as the Bauhaus precedence of form over applied decoration or ornament – which was what 1920s art deco had been showcasing). Duncan related this change to the austerity of the Depression years, which is also likely as the pared back minimalism of the 1930s was attractive to wealthy people not wanting to appear ostentatious, but it also represented a focus on health and hygiene and a stripping away of historical baggage (see Paul Overy – Light, Air & Openness and Mark Wigley – White Walls, Designer Dresses).
The monochrome photography of the time flattered form and tonal variation, displaying to best advantage perfect complexions, lean bodies, and cleverly curved and white rendered buildings. There was something incredibly elegant and also glamorous about an image that seemed to portray a world of crisp whites, velvety greys and silver light reflections. ‘Painting’ with light, and presenting a space in ‘a state of light’ was the sophisticated way to think about photographic representation and also about interior design. The austere luxury of the 1930s seemed more highbrow and intellectual than the jazzy twenties art deco style but also reflected a new sobriety in the strained period preceding the Second World War. The emphasis on surface was also influenced by the commonplace and democratic nature of man-made materials and engineered, finely tooled technology: radio casings, car chassis etc. Buildings, radios, cars, ocean liners, trains, clothing, women’s eyebrows… all conformed to this look. It was a moulded, man-made progression from the handcrafted origins of French art deco.
Thirties style was partly shaped by those representational methodologies of film and photography, and the desire on the part of the protagonists to pare back the visual and textual narrative of The Style of the Era.
nova: vintage treasure 