The World of Interiors June 2022

b o o kA D D R E S S 1st Dibs. Visit 1stdibs.com. A. Prin. Ring 020 7846 0201, or visit a-prin.com. Antiques, 95-97 Pimlico Rd, London SW1 (020 7730 2122; hawkerantiques. Alexander Lamont & Miles, Design Centre Chelsea Harbour, London SW10 com). Hector Finch, 90-92 Wandsworth Bridge Rd, London SW6 (020 7731 (07785 505760; milesdelange.com). Aram, 110 Drury Lane, London WC2 (020 8886; hectorfinch.com). Hermès, 155 New Bond St, London W1 (020 7499 7557 7557; aram.co.uk). Arte, Design Centre Chelsea Harbour, London SW10 8856; hermes.com). The Invisible Collection. Ring 020 3868 9012, or visit (0800 500 3335; arte-international.com). Charles Edwards, 575 King’s Rd, theinvisiblecollection.com. Jamb, 95-97 Pimlico Rd, London SW1 (020 London SW6 (020 7736 8490; charlesedwards.com). Chelsea Textiles, 40-42 7730 2122; jamb.co.uk). James Hare. Ring 0113 243 1204, or visit james- Pimlico Rd, London SW1 (020 7584 5544; chelseatextiles.com). Christopher hare.com. Julia Boston Antiques, 588 King’s Rd, London SW6 (020 7610 Farr Cloth,585King’sRd,LondonSW6(02073490888;christopherfarrcloth. 6783; juliaboston.com). Julian Chichester. Ring 020 7622 2928, or visit com). Cole & Son, Design Centre Chelsea Harbour, London SW10 (020 7376 julianchichester.com. Lacy Gallery, 203 Westbourne Grove, London W11 4628; cole-and-son.com). Colefax & Fowler, Design Centre Chelsea Harbour, (020 7229 6340; lacygallery.co.uk). Liaigre, 68-70 Fulham Rd, London SW3 London SW10 (020 8874 6484; colefax.com). Coromandel Crewels. Ring (020 7584 5848; studioliaigre.com). Margit Wittig. Ring 07779 690846, or visit 0118 979 6222, or visit coromandel.co.uk. Cox London, 46 Pimlico Rd, margitwittig.com. Max Rollitt, Yavington Barn, Lovington Lane, Avington, London SW1 (020 3328 9506; coxlondon.com). CTO Lighting. Ring 020 7686 Hants SO21 1DA (01962 791124; maxrollitt.com). The New Craftsmen, 8700, or visit ctolighting.co.uk. Dedar, Design Centre Chelsea Harbour, 34 North Row, London W1 (020 7148 3190; thenewcraftsmen.com). Osborne London SW10 (020 7351 9939; dedar.com). Designers Guild. Ring 020 & Little, 304 King’s Rd, London SW3 (020 8812 3123; osborneandlittle. 7893 7400, or visit designersguild.com. Dorian Caffot de Fawes, 22 Church com). Paolo Moschino, 8-14 Holbein Place, London SW1 (020 7730 8623; St, London NW8 (020 7386 9386; dorian-antiques.com). Elitis, Design paolomoschino.com). Pierre Frey, Design Centre Chelsea Harbour, London Centre Chelsea Harbour, London SW10 (020 3096 9772; elitis.fr). Farang SW10 (020 7376 5599; pierrefrey.com). Pooky. Ring 020 7351 3003, or visit Wren, 147 Amhurst Rd, London E8 (0770 254 6572; @farangwrenframes). pooky.com. Porta Romana, Design Centre Chelsea Harbour, London SW10 Flavor Paper. Ring 001 718 422 0230, or visit flavorpaper.com. Flora Soames. (020 7352 0440; portaromana.com). Pure & Applied, 169 Bermondsey St, Ring 01747 445650, or visit florasoames.com. GP&J Baker, Design Centre London SE1 (020 7234 0123; pureandapplied.co.uk). Ralph Lauren Home, Chelsea Harbour, London SW10 (020 7351 7760; gpjbaker.com). Guinevere, 1 New Bond St, London W1 (020 7535 4600; ralphlaurenhome.com). Rollo 578 King’s Rd, London SW6 (020 7736 2917; guinevere.co.uk). Hawker Whately, 41 St James’s Place, London SW1 (020 7629 7861; rollowhately.com). r Antique crewel panel, £836, 1st Dibs. Price includes VAT

b o o kA D D R E S S 6 rue de l’Odéon 75006 Paris T +33 1 55 42 92 10 [email protected] www.serierare.com THELAMPCOLLECTION.COM Whether they be borage, clover or courgette blooms, late spring or summer is PHOTOGRAPH: TESSA TRAEGER the time to enjoy flower fritters. Fire up the wok, dip your foraged food in a GREAT LIGHTING IS AN ART light batter and enjoy the delicate, crisp morsels. For the full story, see page 44 AT TYSON.LONDON Rose Uniacke, 76-84 Pimlico Rd, London SW1 (020 7730 7050; roseuniacke.com). Rubelli, Design Centre Chelsea Harbour, London ONE OF 1000 LAMPS IN STOCK SW10 (020 7349 1590; rubelli.com). The Rug Company, 555 King’s Rd, London SW6 (020 3369 3912; therugcompany.com). Sanderson Design Group, Design Centre Chelsea Harbour, London SW10 (020 3457 5862; sanderson.sandersondesigngroup.com). Schumacher, Design Centre Chelsea Harbour, London SW10 (020 4532 0960; fschumacher.co.uk). Scion. Ring 020 3997 8990, or visit scionliving.com. SCP, 135-139 Curtain Rd, London EC2 (020 7739 1869; scp.co.uk). Soane Britain. Ring 020 7730 6405, or visit soane.co.uk. Studio Printworks. Ring 001 973 925 5411, or visit studioprintworks.com. Sybil Colefax & John Fowler, 89-91 Pimlico Rd, London SW1 (020 7493 2231; sibylcolefax.com). Turnell & Gigon, Design Centre Chelsea Harbour, London SW10 (020 7259 7280; turnellandgigon.com). Vaughan, Design Centre Chelsea Harbour, London SW10 (020 7349 4600; vaughandesigns.com). Viaduct, 1-10 Summers St, London EC1 (020 7278 8456; viaduct.co.uk). Voutsa. Visit voutsa.com. Welland & Wye. Ring 01858 882149, or visit wellandandwye.com. Zuber, 67 Pimlico Rd, London SW1 (020 7824 8265; zuber.fr) $

www.volgalinen.com | +44 (0) 1728 635020 | [email protected]

JOIN US THIS JULY AS THE MATTHIEU SALVAING WORLD OF INTERIORS HEADS OUTSIDE, STEPPING FROM ROOMSCAPES TO THE SPACES BEYOND. WE WILL BRING YOU ALL THINGS ALFRESCO, FROM NEW DESIGNS FOR OUTDOOR LIVING TO THE WORLD’S MOST BEAUTIFUL GARDENS JULY ISSUE, ON SALE 1 JUNE

VI ITOR ’ BOOK Being brave, even bloody-minded, in the sphere of art and interiors is a high-risk, high-reward kind of strategy. Interior designer Alexia Leuschen was outraged when estate agents told her that the Stanford White mansion on Fifth Avenue she desired was a ‘gut-job’ when, in fact, ‘it had all the bells and whistles of 1906’. Similarly, Stéphanie and Cyril de Ricou were so charmed by a mould-ravaged hôtel in Courbevoie, one once occupied by a duke in Marie-Antoinette’s circle, that they took the plunge knowing it would take a lifetime to restore. Heading south, and to the 1950s, the Modernist architect Luis Barragán – whose Casa Ortega in Mexico City we display (above) – had had enough of diluting his vision, so wrote to all his clients to say he’d be ploughing his own furrow thereafter. The writer Polly Devlin recalls using all of her Irish charm to persuade a stony-faced Paris dealer to part with two mermaid sconces promised elsewhere. The plaster sirens lure us in to her anecdote-rich London house. Model Anh Duong had the courage to make a double-pronged change of direction, becoming an actor and an artist – as the richly autobiographical works in her East Village apartment attest. Finally, our very own Mrs Tependris, whom we introduce in Hubert de Givenchy’s living room, is contemptuous of trend chasers. Style is her holy grail 153

This page: Madeleine Castaing carpet covers the stairs, which encircle an Ai Weiwei ‘Oil Spill’ and a 17th-century armchair. Opposite: the mirror is by Edouard Chevalier.

FIFTH AMENDMENT Horrified by the likely fate of this Beaux-Arts mansion by architect Stanford White on Fifth Avenue, Alexia Leuschen stepped in to save it and right sundry historical wrongs. Out went the duct tape she’d mistaken for silver leaf and in came acres of treillage and other well-judged trappings, from period-perfect bathtubs to percées. The result is a many-splendoured thing, as Mitchell Owens can testify. Photography: Ngoc Minh Ngo

In the centre of one of Alexia Leuschen’s sitting rooms, its walls panelled with treillage, stands an antique Swedish octagonal table surrounded by a set of vintage dining chairs by Maison Jansen



TEN OUT OF TEN times, a another of his creations – ironically during a song entitled I Could Love a Million Girls. real-estate agent informed Alexia Leuschen, potential buy- ers – with their decorators and architects in tow – told him ‘My father was a huge fan of Stanford White’s,’ Leuschen that the Fifth Avenue town house was fit only for gutting. says, referring to Costas Kondylis, the talent behind many a Everything original was deemed without merit and had to Manhattan residential high-rise. Glamorous glass shafts be obliterated. The lacy iron staircase that coiled up six aside, the late Kondylis, like his daughter, was a classicist, storeys. The painted boiserie that dressed the walls. The and both admired the Fifth Avenue mansion’s hierarchical parquet de Versailles, admittedly creaking and splintering, plan. ‘The layout moulds the way you live in the house, and that had been trodden on by doyens of the Four Hundred, isn’t that kind of pleasant – to have the house tell you what Manhattan’s legendary elite. The dressing room’s extra- to do rather than the opposite? Why not just experience the long drawers for storing frothy evening frocks. Even the unfolding wisdom of the man who designed the place?’ asks below-ground kitchen had to go. Idly dropping by during Leuschen, who purchased it a decade ago with her former her hunt for a new apartment, Leuschen didn’t particularly husband. ‘The kitchen is in the cellar for a very good reason: fancy living in the relic – with nine bedrooms and ten you hear no clattering upstairs, you have no odours. Sure, bathrooms, it was far too big for a young family of four – you have to transport the food up to the dining room when but she was distressed by the agent’s revelations. you have guests, but it’s really not that inconvenient. It just means that every day has a certain amount of ceremony.’ ‘How could anybody think that? It just made me want For less formal meals, she points out, there is always the the house even more,’ the interior designer recalls in a tone farm table in the kitchen, which opens to a family room. of disbelief. ‘Everything was intact. It had all the bells and whistles of 1906.’ Built for an octogenarian railroad A training centre for Mormon missionaries for more magnate in the richly pilastered mode of an 18th-century than three decades before returning to private ownership Venetian palazzo, the limestone landmark also had prov- in the 1970s, the house was more palimpsest than time enance. It is among the last domestic works of Stanford capsule. Battered Bugatti bicycles languished in the attic, White, the priapic bad boy of the American Beaux-Arts and decades-old graffiti were scrawled here and there. A movement, who did not live to see the house completed. salon was paved with pockmarked limestone, evidence of He was shot to death by a former lover’s husband while long-gone office dividers, and more than one window had attending a musical revue at Madison Square Garden, been filled with cement. ‘The bathrooms were sort of a dis- Top left: the dining room, created with the interior designer Hutton Wilkinson, features a faux-ermine-banded carpet by The Bouwerie, the owner’s design company. Top right: as if awaiting a tableau vivant, theatrical fringed curtains frame the windows. Opposite: the antique Dufour panoramic wallpaper, which was printed in 1831 and found at Christie’s, tells the story of lovers Renaud and Armide. The settee is 18th-century Italian



This page, clockwise from top left: in a rusticated corridor, a totem sculpture by Ugo Rondinone meets a work by Ron Gorchov; The Bouwerie designed the main salon’s back-to-back sofas, which are flanked by antique gilt-bronze lamps; the Neoclassical canapé is another Maison Jansen number; Leuschen preserved the boiserie’s original finish. Opposite: a landscape by Nicolas de Staël is propped against one of a pair of infinity mirrors



This page, clockwise from top left: in the library, a René Ricard painting stands on a Jacques Adnet table, guarded by an 18th-century Neapolitan porcelain mastiff; another of the same artist’s works hangs above armchairs upholstered in blue boiled wool with yellow suede buttons; the fleur-de-lys carpet is a Bouwerie design; Jean Royère sofas have been given the teddy-bear treatment. Opposite: a Julian Schnabel inkjet print dominates one wall



aster,’ explains Leuschen, co-founder of The Bouwerie, a unpolished Indiana limestone and oak floors. Which really home-products firm that she has launched with a friend, is enough, when you think about it. It has purity.’ entrepreneur Fernanda Niven. ‘One was decorated with what I initially thought was silver leaf, only to learn that it Frivolity, too. Leuschen found the tailored envelope was duct tape holding the water-damaged plaster in place.’ perfectly accepting of both Neoclassical furnishings and diverse oddments, from a whimsical 1950s Jansen trompe- Research to hand, Leuschen restored what remained l’oeil commode commissioned by the collector Jayne and then put in place the sort of atmospheric details that Wrightsman to the plump library sofas dressed in a furry had been prized in the 1900s. Marble tubs the size of sar- fabric traditionally used for teddy bears. She wrapped the cophagi, carved to order in China, ennoble the bathrooms, staircase’s endless banister in velvet the colour of pine nee- joined by dignified panelling, antique basins and old-fash- dles and insouciantly amputated Christian Astuguevieille ioned chaises percées that camouflage the ceramic necessi- barstools so that they could be used as chairs in the library. ties. ‘Everyone should have them,’ Leuschen says, ‘because Walls host old-master portraits as well as a vast Julian it’s nicer to bathe next to what appears to be an elegant Schnabel inkjet print and a Nicolas de Staël landscape. chair rather than an obvious loo.’ Mirrored trelliswork transforms her study into a virtual birdcage, an echo of the Treasures aside, one of the finds that delights Leuschen treillage tearoom that Elsie de Wolfe installed at the Colony most is one of the most humble, discovered on a trawl Club, a White-designed club for society women. through Ebay. It is an early 1900s annunciator, a panel that would summon servants when one pushed the shimmer- Blocked windows have been opened and fitted with ele- ing mother-of-pearl call buttons that are still positioned gant balconettes copied from ones at Versailles. The powers throughout the house. The original one, on a wall near the that be there also granted Leuschen permission to repro- kitchen, had been woefully damaged, though the handsome duce the ram’s-head tap in the queen’s dairy for the powder replacement is purely for show. It isn’t actually connected room. The Louvre allowed her to make a copy of Claude and there are no footmen around in any case. Poirier’s 1711 statue of the nymph Arethusa for the rooftop potager, a bucolic reverie of herbs and flowers that is a vest- ‘Houses that are perfect make me feel neurotic,’ the pocket evocation of the owner’s ideal domestic habitat: designer says. ‘Rooms that are soft around the edges give you Marie-Antoinette’s hameau. ‘This house is very Louis Seize so much more peace, I think. My friend Fernanda’s father inside, which is a style that I love,’ she says. ‘It doesn’t have said this place has just the right amount of crumble, which a lot of flourishes, but it does have beautiful ironwork, delighted me, because we all have a bit of crumble’ $ The Bouwerie. Visit thebouwerie.com Top left: dressed in its original fabric, the Louis XV lit à la polonaise in Leuschen’s bedroom once belonged to fashion queen Hélène Rochas, while the chandelier once graced Paris’s Hôtel Lutetia. Top right: leopard-spot carpeting by Catry softens the floor in a bathroom, where a Hunt Slonem rabbit painting is displayed above the c aise percée. Opposite: the Jansen commode was made in the 1950s for collector Jayne Wrightsman



VEIN GLORIOUS United by a minimalist outlook and a love of stone, designer Henry Timi and gallerist Nicolò Cardi have turned the latter’s 1950s Milan flat into a monument to marble, tempering the material’s chilly reputation with sandy tones and artful lighting. Throughout the conjoined main and guest flats, the décor is intended as the ideal foil for the owner’s superb Arte Povera collection. Lee Marshall knows a hot streak when he sees one. Photography: Giulio Ghirardi

Henry Timi’s bespoke designs in ‘Nero Fossile’ stone run through Nicolò Cardi’s Domus apartment. Here a monolithic table and benches weigh upon a ‘Signum’ floor. Book spines add a dash of colour. A hand-sculpted wall at the back frames a work by Lucio Fontana. Sittings editor: Gianluca Longo



Opposite: just beyond the Domus entrance, Henry Timi surveys the view in apparently reflective mood – apt as he is being seen in a mirror. This page, above: in the main living space, looking north along its long, garden-facing axis, a monolithic kitchen island can be seen beyond a linen-covered sofa, both Timi-designed. Strikingly, the floor slabs line up perfectly with the furniture on top. Below: the reverse view. The rough-rock sides of the coffee tables were finished by hand



Perched on the bed’s powerful plinth are jugs made of silver and beakers hammered by hand from pewter. The natural-linen bedcovering echoes the material used to upholster the living area’s sofa

STONE everywhere. Stone in the atrium, where the The smaller of the two apartments, called Otium (Latin for ‘leisured ease’), is for guests. Of Italian provenance, the white veins of a grey marble floor swirl like sea foam. Stone travertine used here by Timi plays variations on tones of in the living room, where great irregular blocks have been beige, whereas the European fossil stone that is the keynote wrangled into a land-art circle on the fossil-stone floor. Stone of Domus, Cardi’s main living space, is a symphony of dark in the kitchen, dominated by a massive rectangular prism greys. Both exhibit a defining trait of Timi’s interiors, like a toppled monolith from 2001:ASpaceOdyssey, which turns which he describes as ‘the visual absence of anything func- out, on closer inspection, to open out into drawers stacked tional or technological’. Across the main space, which runs with heavy stone plates and bowls. Rough stone walls, a stone the length of one side of the palazzo and looks on to one of table, stone chairs. In the bathroom, a stone loo and bidet. central Milan’s largest private gardens, appliances from kitchen hobs to fridges are all hidden behind walls that But here’s the surprising thing. For all its lithic rigour, magically open, or sculptural blocks that turn out not to be the new Milanese pad of gallerista Nicolò Cardi does not come as solid as they seem. across as cold or forbidding. In fact, Cardi tells me that vis- iting friends always comment on how warm the space feels. As you enter the guest apartment, you’re confronted with He puts this down to the fact that ‘you’re surrounded by art a receding flight of four travertine monoliths, each one taller and creativity here’. Founded by his father Renato in 1972, than the last. The first is a table for two: its shorter sides Galleria Cardi – now Cardi Gallery – has risen to become one reveal themselves to be two straight-backed stone chairs of Italy’s most influential contemporary-art galleries, rep- that can be pulled out when needed. The next three mono- resenting over the years a roster of artists that includes Cy liths conceal, successively, a sink, a small cooking area and a Twombly, Lucio Fontana, Jannis Kounellis and Mimmo Pala- fridge. Timi reveals these secret islands with the flourish of dino, and opening a branch in London during 2015. Works a magician extracting a dove from a handkerchief. by some of the gallery’s leading lights form part of the pri- vate collection that adorns Nicolò’s new home in Milan. But there’s something else going on, you soon realise, as you wander through both spaces. Worked and finished at But that’s not all Cardi means when he talks about being the designer’s facility in Le Marche, the floor slabs are cut to surrounded by creativity. ‘Henry is an artist,’ he elaborates, line up exactly not only with doorways and wall corners, but glancing towards Henry Timi, the Italian architect and de- also with the objects placed upon them, whether these be beds signer who conceived and fabricated the space and pretty or sofas, kitchen monoliths or coffee tables. much everything you see in it – from the sofas, tables and wardrobes right down to the stone ashtrays and pewter The result is a play of sightlines and converging parallels drinking beakers. Some of these furnishings, fittings and that reminds one not a little of those extreme games accessories are one-offs, created especially for Cardi; oth- Renaissance painters liked to play with perspective, just for ers form part of the collections offered by the designer’s the joy of it. The long ‘garden’ side of Cardi’s main apart- brand, Henry Timi (he styles it as one word and all capital ment is an unencumbered visual corridor that leads all the letters). All are made at Timi’s own artisanal factory, near way from his bedroom to the spa area, announced at the town of Corridonia in his native Le Marche region. the other end by the rakingly illuminated rock wall of a floor-to-ceiling shower room. Turn a corner just shy of the Timi describes his style and approach as minimalismo ma- shower and another, shorter sightline, bathed by the warm terico – a minimalism of natural materials. This means for light of a glass-walled sauna, ends in a black punch bag (the example that, close up, you can see fragments of shell and antechamber to the owner’s personal gym) that could well other fossils embedded in the various marbles that line the be a conceptual artwork from Cardi’s collection. floor and then emerge from it in the refectory-like table and benches of the dining room. There are man-made traces too. Timi and Cardi met for the first time at Art Basel during At the edge of one of the rugged sand-hued slabs that line an 2017, when the gallerista was living between London and end wall is a series of semi-circular grooves, the width and New York but was already planning a return to Milan. ‘We length of a votive candle. Puzzled, I turn to Timi for illumi- both realised we shared the same rigorous, minimalist nation. ‘Those are the holes where the quarrymen inserted mentality,’ Cardi comments. But they also shared a passion the dynamite that split the block,’ he explains. for elemental natural materials that, he continues, ‘go hand in hand with the Italian Arte Povera movement, which is Cardi’s new home consists of two apartments separated part of my cultural DNA’. by an atrium. On the eastern edge of the Brera district, close to the famous Pinacoteca and the fashion drag of Via Monte- The owner of this striking pied-à-terre – a work of art for napoleone, it occupies part of the basement of the 1950s living in, to misquote Le Corbusier – is also keen to point residential palazzo where the gallerista grew up, in one of out, however, that he finds his stony, pared-back Milanese the apartments upstairs. As a child, he was surrounded by abode perfectly comfortable. ‘It’s a refuge for me,’ Cardi ex- artists and art talk. He recalls ‘lunches where people talked plains, ‘a cotton-wool cocoon where I feel good, where I can about subjects that seemed so distant to the kid I was then, relax, where I can leave the stress of work behind’ $ yet at the same time very attractive. And I remember play- Cardi Gallery, 38 Corso di Porta Nuova, 20121 Milan (00 39 02 45 47 ing football inside the apartment and taking aim at a work 8189; cardigallery.com). Henry Timi, 52 Foro Buonaparte, 20121 by Enrico Castellani … Luckily, it was a sponge football!’ Milan (00 39 02 80 50 9739; henrytimi.com)

Clockwise from above left: in the entrance hall/kitchen space of the guest Otium apartment, the table and chair are part of the ‘HT664’ series, made with ‘Colosseo’ natural stone; from left to right, the sink, the cooking area and the fridge. It is one of Timi’s design dictums that technological function be kept out of sight; between the two beds stands a shared table; in Otium’s principal living space, the sofa is supported by white lacquered wood

THE STUFF OF LEGEND Polly Devlin obe has spent decades acquiring things, from blue-and-white china to shellwork, and all of them come with a story attached – not provenance per se, just some highly personal connection that adds meaning to her life. Surrounded by them in her London home, the Irish writer offers piercing insights into the psychology of collecting and the role revenge can play in a purchase. Photography: Simon Watson

Opposite: in one corner of the studio an 18th-century Chinese lantern from Barry Sainsbury hangs above two corbels from Armagh Cathedral. This page: a Serge Roche obelisk is studded with Venetian medallions and glass beads. Flowers are by Daisy Garnett Sittings editor: Hamish Bowles

THERE isn’t an object in my house – and ure. To handle each object is to hold my own history. Looking at a picture has more than visual meaning. there are many – that I don’t love and treasure. They tell the story of my life. Every single thing has a tale Although filled with paintings and objects, my attached to it; not provenance as such – few of the rooms are not cluttered – for I care about the space pieces are grand enough for that – rather the matter around them. That is as important as the thing itself, of where I found them, who gave them to me and especially when it comes to hanging pictures or plac- why. Ornament and objects and paintings and fur- ing furniture; so too is the dialogue between things. niture are not status symbols or economic currency Meret Oppenheim’s Homage to Tutankhamun and to me; they are extras that have added authenticity, Chanel’s miniature classic quilted bag sit happily beauty and pleasure to my life. side by side, as do a delightful 1950s zodiac bull by Arnold Machin and a contemporary sculpture, a I remember, in detail, the journeys I made. Not little Japanese kitsch piece from the 1930s and an to buy anything, you understand – oh no. Yet some- ancient glazed pickle jar from the same country. how I would find myself in a town where I knew a little auction might be taking place, or a village The vast amount of blue-and-white china I’ve where the owner of a certain shop had a brilliant collected over many years is unremarkable, but eye. So I let myself believe it was all happenstance. within it are tulip holders, flat vases and obelisks I made friends in junk shops and yards and small that are hugely valuable to me because they were auctions and barns all over Ireland, Britain, France made in derelict Spitalfields by the brilliant ceramic and even the USA. I rarely bought in big shops or artist Simon Pettet, who died at the age of 28. emporia; I like feeling that I find things rather than having them already found for me. I once had a flat in Paris, the City of Light, so that was always a happy hunting ground. The intricate I bought, if I could, the thing I pined for in the mo- blue-and-white voile curtains in the parlour came ment. I pounced on the irresistible. What mattered from a stall in the flea market at Clignancourt, and I was the inner worth of the outward show. On some of found the fatly seductive green plaster mermaid my Irish spongeware the design is unsteady, as sconces in a run-down shop on the Right Bank. though rubbed by a weary hand. Everything in my Fourteen of these buxom sirens were ranged along house encapsulates a time in my life, so there is nos- the wall at the back. I went all quivery. The shop was talgia and memory, and yet it is here still giving pleas- always closed and every time I was in Paris I loitered This page: on the back wall, an obelisk by Ben Jakober made from old computer motherboards stands sentinel alongside Finola Graham’s painting Storm, Sea and Boat. Polly found the carved ram (originally from a butcher’s shop) at Annabel Elliot. Opposite: some 40 years in the owner’s possession, this Chinese elm bonsai tree is now over 100 years old and lives ‘against the odds’. Lucinda Oakes created the trompe-l’oeil foliate and tasselled friezes



This page, clockwise from top left: obelisks and a flat vase by the ceramicist Simon Pettet, who died aged 28; in the parlour stand upside-down Spanish flambeaux topped with pumpkins painted by Daisy Garnett (channelling Yayoi Kusama). Cressida Bell’s ‘Oak Leaf’ fabric covers a wing chair in the distance; John AM Hay’s 1915 portrait of Polly’s mother-in-law, Anne Fortescue, rests on Frank Lloyd Wright’s ‘Liberty Balloons’ carpet; the mermaid sconces (c1948), by Robert Dufour, were made for a restaurant in Neuilly. Opposite: a yellow chair by Nanna and Jørgen Ditzel



obsessively outside it. Then one afternoon I spied a anxieties. Children need constant touch and warmth, figure in a back room and rang and knocked until to know they’re wanted. If this is missing, a deep a tall stony-faced man opened the door, as cross as a insecurity is born, a greed and hunger that is never barrel of badgers. What did I want? Why was I filled. The child has a flawed relationship with the knocking? Could not I see the shop was closed, dé- outside world and finally finds more reassurance in finitivement. Nothing was for sale. Rien. Go away, objects than in people, who have shown they cannot bad person. ‘I just want two of those sirens,’ I said, be trusted. Acquiring things becomes a device to ‘and you have 14.’ I was in a mind to try wheedling, regulate mood swings and can make the acquirer but I knew it would cut none of the pince-nez ice in feel special and clever; it reveals a passionate crav- front of me. ‘Madame, they have all been bought by ing to be valued and loved. A craving, in other a decorator for a Texas millionaire. Vendus. Partez.’ words, for both praise and possession. ‘Oh, do stop it,’ I said. ‘Even a greedy Texan can For me, another underlying and unspoken make do with 12. I only need two. Anyway, I’m Irish. motive was my anger for our ruined Irish past. I felt Perfidious Albion stole all our snakes and mermaids. sometimes as though I was trying to compose and I’m after restitution.’ His stony face collapsed. We construct the semblance of a heritage, the aggrega- went for lunch. He kept two. I got two. He’s still a tions that undisturbed or unvexed families – as in dear friend. And restitution? Eh? My passion for England – had passed down through generations collecting is always by way of an imaginary resentful and which we were denied by cruel colonisation. restitution and assuagement. This is probably true Certainly, a sentence I once read in Claudia Kin- for most collectors. Every time you buy or bid it’s the month’s brilliant history of Irish furniture played its only thing you ever wanted, ever needed, will ever part. She described the kind of chest furniture found buy again. And then when you get it, the passion in Irish castles and lower houses until the Georgian starts over. Deep damage lies behind a serious period, but there were no examples of vernacular collecting urge. It is a symptom of chronic anxiety. storage furniture. The sentence read: ‘The ownership of such articles, or indeed the need for them, was In his fascinating book Collecting: An Unruly confined to the landed classes. The destitution of the Passion, the psychoanalyst Werner Muensterberger peasantry rendered storage boxes superfluous.’ In posits that possessions provide magic protection other words, the Irish had nothing to store. The land- and shield the collector from new frustrations and Top left: in the dining room, a sconce by Thomas Messel is affixed to William Morris wallpaper, made at the same date as the house. It hangs to the left of a needlepoint picture, after Landseer, of Queen Victoria’s favourite pets. Top right: 19th-century Chinese flower panels painted on silk sit alongside a painted cabinet topped with a bronze bust of Polly Devlin (c1969) by Carolyn Mulholland. The large lidded pot is by Clive Bowen

ed classes in Ireland – Anglo-Irish, as they called with pearl-and-diamond earrings dripping from themselves – were invaders and colonisers. The their ears, and I love my pack of Staffordshire dogs native Irish were, like any other nation, composed of grinning from behind their woolly coats and the social hierarchies, but after the invasions we were all flocks of mad lambs with their silly faces perched on dumped together into destitute peasantry, living in their bocage or curled up at the feet of goofy lions. bogs. I set about reversing the trend. Well, that’s my Here there be glass, too: Roman, Waterford, story. I can apply a high moral gloss to anything I Lalique; decanters and jelly moulds and doorstops; choose to do, believing I am both attaining virtue rummers and candlesticks and superb Venetian and alleviating infantile trauma by accumulation. jewelled obelisks by Serge Roche. How I got those – again in Paris – is a picaresque story in itself. Certain pieces give me more than a collector’s satisfaction. They give me revenge of a kind. A I tried not to spend more than I could afford but painting of a shield came from the estate of Basil I never succeeded, especially when it came to paint- Brookeborough, who was the appalling prime min- ings. I’d run myself into deep debt for a picture and ister of Northern Ireland when I was growing up missed so many I yearned for. My first job was at and who fostered bigotry. Although I wanted to hate Vogue and my salary was £10 a week, so do the math. it as I hated him I reckoned a thing can’t be blamed But while there I bought my first ever drawing, an for its owner and, hey, I loved it. Above a chimney enchanting sketch of a bunch of flowers by a young piece hangs an ancient painting of the first imposi- artist called David Hockney. It was £30 at Kasmin’s tion of an English demesne on Irish land, laid out in superb gallery, which had just opened in New Bond its formality just below Sugar Loaf Mountain. Street. That got me started. Next was a ravishing Offensive triumphalism. To quote Muensterberger: painting of flowers crammed into a jug by Vanessa ‘The collector has a need for compensatory objects Bell. Kasmin and Anthony d’Offay, genius dealers, of one or the other kind. This can also be interpret- let me pay for them week by week. Ah, but the ones ed as a self-healing attempt.’ that got away! I adored the work of Patrick Caulfield, and he was selling a big painting that I loved beyond But I also get enormous pleasure from looking at life itself, of Juan Gris, the Spanish painter. He need- all pretty and unusual things, especially those with ed £60 sharpish to pay the rent, but I didn’t have the a surreal touch. An 18th-century dog painting by readies… I still mourn it and the Paul Nashes and Jean-Jacques Bachelier shows two royal spaniels Top left: the Holbein prints above the bookcase were first discovered at Windsor by Polly’s husband’s uncle, the royal librarian Sir John Fortescue. The numbers game propped against the wall is by Billy Apple, at the Warhol Factory. Top right: the dresser changes all the time, but this version features green chequered jugs (mixed in among Irish and Scottish spongeware), a speciality of Castres in the Tarn, France. The chair is Regency

This page, clockwise from top: a doll’s house from Shepperton Studios now contains Polly’s cabinet of curiosities, including the George Orwell homage room, filled with Staffordshire animals and German wool sheep from the 1950s; a detail of the cabinet, with Yayoi Kusama’s pumpkins; a shell bureau made in Nice supports Tom Hickman obelisks and a strange ceramic model of Bradley Court (Polly’s first house) made and fired by her. Opposite: that ‘Jacobean muddle’ is also memorialised on the needlework bedhead, which includes a hidden poetic dedication to Polly’s daughters from Seamus Heaney

the Dora Carringtons that all rocketed out of my canvases for stools left over from the refurbishment reach. (I think Juan Gris sold for £3 million not long of the throne room at Windsor Castle. The designer ago, but it’s still part of my mental collection.) So Michael Szell gave them to me and the Royal School many of the treasures in my possession are by living of Needlework stitched them (I see it cost £1,387 in artists: Steffen Dam’s Wunderkammer made of 1999, but the work is amazing) and the two stools to glass and light; Annette Marie Townsend, whose accommodate the lovely things were copied from a miraculous installation of wax flowers is a homage pair I saw in Ham House and made by James Howett to nature and, alas, dying bees. in Marianna Kennedy’s magical workshop. I was lucky enough to buy works by the young Some of the things I love most were presents and artists of the 1950s before the astronomical rises, provide great opportunities for name-dropping. and I collected Irish paintings and those by women John Lennon gave me Yoko Ono’s A Box of Smile, – Mary Newcombe, Winifred Nicholson, Prunella Diana Vreeland a baroque brass inkwell, Ben Jak- Clough, Mary Fedden, Grace Henry, Claudia Carr, ober his own amazing take on computers and com- Charlotte Verity, Rita Duffy – but I was happiest munications, including an obelisk made of old when I discovered something that I could tell im- motherboards that captivates everyone who sees it. mediately was by a new genius: the big seascape by Finola Graham is one example, seen in an obscure I will travel any distance to see shell grottos and gallery in Paris; the self-portraits by Frances Borden houses, and parts of my place are a tad encrusted in Somerset are another; the visionary Jennifer with images, furniture, mirrors and obelisks made Troughton in Belfast. from that material. One pair of sconces is in the form of demons with curving shell horns and a queen scal- I do needlepoint (badly) and love it in all its lop for a mouth. A Shropshire farmer makes them. stitchery forms – Berlin work, stumpwork, quilting, Aubusson, tapestries and carpets – and so, also, In the hall, a bureau made in Nice in the 1930s is alas, do my cats and dogs. Not too keen on samplers. completely covered with shells in fantastic patterns The divine needlepoint cover on the big ottoman – a with conches for handles, and near to it is a gigantic fantastical mixture of Beatrix Potter and Persian South Pacific clam shell holding two ostrich eggs. carpet – was made by my grandmother-in-law. She started it when she was 70 and stitched the last knot Walking through the rooms I sometimes used to when she was 90. John Stefanidis (WoI Jan 2012) feel that I was using my possessions to anchor my designed the actual ottoman. life to earth, as though without the ballast of clutter I would go bumping off into empty space. Those The best examples of needlework are two blue days have gone. Age brings its own less hungry re- velvet, petit-point and devoré stool covers with the wards. The great English collector Christopher Gibbs Order of the Garter crest. They were painted once said that he only bought something if it sang to him; I bought when I heard the singing $

MRS TEPENDRIS at Large Alexandrian-born, but a true global citizen, The World of Interiors’ revered contributing editor and society Zelig Mrs Tependris has been on intimate terms with many of the great tastemakers of the late 20th and 21st centuries. She has many fond memories, for instance, of golden hours spent basking in the impeccable beauty that her dear late friends Hubert de Givenchy and his life partner, Philippe Venet, created in a series of legendary homes, latterly the Manoir de Jonchet in France’s Eure-et-Loir region, and the Hôtel d’Orrouer on the Rue de Grenelle. In the former, a moated castle that owes its present com- mandingly stately appearance to Louis XV’s architect Gabriel de Lestrade, furniture by Diego Giacometti (sold by Christie’s in 2017 and replaced with chic blacksmith’s copies) and provincial 18th-century makers was set on floors of sisal and pierre de Bourgogne. It is in the high-ceilinged 1732 Parisian apartment, however, in a room of gilded ivory plaster and boiserie (the work of architect Pierre Boscry and ornamentist Nicolas Pineau), appointed with faultless elegance alongside signed masterworks by the greatest 17th- and 18th-century cabinetmakers, bravura 20th-century art and chairs upholstered in Colombian emerald silk velvet or insouciantly slip-covered in pale linen, that Mrs Tependris is discovered in these pages. Dressed in a favourite Hubert dress from autumn 1964 of chenille and clipped ostrich (and captured as ever by her faithful friend, artist Konstantin Kakanias), Mrs T is caught in the act of admiring the perfect pebble, apparently discovered by Rachel ‘Bunny’ Mellon (on a Nantucket beach? In an Antiguan bay?) and flown by her private plane to the attention of Hubert and Philippe. They alone, she felt, would appreciate its unique allure. The refined collecting instincts and faultless taste of Givenchy and Venet will be celebrated this month when Christie’s in Paris will sell the contents of those two remarkable homes in a series of sales sure to electrify aesthetes the world over (highlights are travelling to Palm Beach, New York and Hong Kong before being showcased in Paris) $ HAMISH BOWLES The ‘Hubert de Givenchy: Collectionneur’ auction runs at Christie’s, 9 Ave Matignon, 75008 Paris, 14-17 June, with a dedicated online sale taking place 8-23 June. For details, ring 00 33 1 40 76 85 85, or visit christies.com 184



A MUSE MYSELF As her series of self-portraits and autobiographical sculptures attest, the artist Anh Duong finds inspiration in her own form and identity. Choice examples of her work are dotted throughout the former fashion model’s brownstone flat in New York’s East Village, along with encrusted canvases by Julian Schnabel (an old boyfriend) and Czech Futurist furniture. Painting herself, she tells Hamish Bowles, is the ‘perfect vehicle to express inner feelings’. Photography: Simon Upton This page: in the living room, Anh Duong’s Capri c’est fini (2012) hangs above a Babe Paley-inspired sofa designed by Daniel Romualdez. The King Farouk-era Louis Quinze Revival chairs and table were sourced by Zachy and Gamal Sherif. The flowers are by Flowerbx. Opposite: a Christian Lacroix haute-couture dress from 2002 is reflected in a giltwood mirror found in Paris. Sittings editor: Hamish Bowles



THE ARTIST Anh Duong had despaired of Schnabel hailed her first efforts, seeing in them echoes of the tormented French writer/artist Antonin Artaud, and of ever finding a flat in downtown Manhattan that would serve Alice Neel, neither of whom was familiar to Anh at the time. as both home and studio. Admittedly, the bar was set rather Their friends agreed. Dennis Hopper bought Anh’s first full- high, for at the time she was painting her piercing self-por- size portrait, of the art-world figure David Yarritu, and the traits and crafting her no less autobiographical sculptures in esteemed dealer Bruno Bischofberger eventually acquired 22 the tall-ceilinged drawing room of an Italianate town house of her self-portraits. (‘It was about painting something that where Mark Twain had once lived. Added to which, her first was always available,’ Anh has said of casting herself as her New York home had been a poetic loft in a light-industrial muse. ‘And then, of course, it became more than that: I real- building in the Meatpacking District that she rented from the ised it was a perfect vehicle to express inner feelings.’) artist-loving billionaire landlord Bill Gottlieb, who saved the area from the developers’ wrecking balls for decades. A quarter of a century later and Anh was luxuriating in Saint Barths on New Year’s Day when she vowed that this was Back then Anh’s artistic career was nascent. In the late the year she would ‘find my place’. Within hours her relent- 1980s she spent a long summer with her then boyfriend Julian less online sleuthing led her to a flat on the same street as that Schnabel at Eothen, a 1920s compound of clapboard cottages first Gottlieb loft. The mid-19th-century brownstone in the and club houses on a pebbled cove on Long Island’s most East Village had a promising floorplan, combining two apart- easterly tip, a spot where Andy Warhol and, later, Halston ments and thus providing the opportunity for separate living had cavorted with fellow glitterati. Here, Julian set up an al- and working spaces. One was a classic East Village shotgun – fresco studio, improvised with tarpaulin walls and set to work essentially three adjoining rooms running in a direct se- on his epic paintings. Eventually, Anh, bored with playing quence from the north-facing living room to a sitting room hostess and fascinated by his process, set up her own easel with a Rear Window view of rather forlorn private gardens and alongside him. It was a golden age for New York’s art world their shadowing trees – and the other the adjoining floor of a and the couple were at the nexus of it. ‘Everybody was super- later 20th-century addition, a light-filled loft-like space. cool and super-hip, and suddenly being a painter was like being a rock star,’ she recalls. ‘I was amazed by the freedom As Anh was subsequently to discover, the place had be- that all these artists had and the ability to express themselves.’ longed to the late artist Joann Gedney, who moved in Abstract Expressionist circles. She had lived there for 70 years and it had been filled with the detritus of her life. By the time Anh went to visit, however, it had been cleared of everything but an easel. A happy augury, thought she. There were some ad- ditional remnants that spoke of the city’s bohemian artist life of yore, including a bathtub with a lid to use as an extra sur- face, linoleum floors and plaster walls greyed by decades of dust and daubed with paint splashes. Anh was enchanted and daunted in equal measure and turned to the architect/decora- tor Daniel Romualdez, a friend of hers, for counsel. Together, they decided to keep as much of the patina as they could, even adding a sepia glaze to the plastered walls. Born to a Spanish mother and a Vietnamese father, Anh possesses striking El Greco features, all angles and planes; combined with the grace of the ballet dancer she had trained to be since childhood, they made her a sought-after model, and the emblematic muse of the fledgling couturier Christian Lacroix (today, she is agelessly beautiful and continues to in- spire pan-generational fashion designers, among them Thom Browne, Domenico Dolce and Stefano Gabbana, and Peter Do). Photographs from this earlier era by David Seidner and McDermott & McGough now hang in Anh’s bedroom and the light-flooded bathroom, a luxury for which Romualdez decreed it was worth sacrificing a second bedroom. Guests would have to make do with a monastic bed in the tiny office. Counterintuitively, Romualdez made the central, lightless room darker still, with eucalyptus-green walls and his old- fashioned kitchen cabinets painted a dead charcoal black. The Top: in the kitchen, the ancient Egyptian head came from Alistair McAlpine’s gallery. On the sill, Anh Duong’s first sculpture - of her foot - dates from 2004. Opposite: facing an Ettore Sottsass fruit bowl, Julian Schnabel’s Portrait of Anh in a Mars Violet Room, 1988, hangs perpendicular to a McDermott & McGough photograph. The stand supports the owner’s bronze Lesbienne à Madrid, 2004





Above the Ralph Lauren sofa hangs a Picasso etching of a minotaur. Chairs by Jindr˘ich Halabala, from Prague Kolektiv, sit across from a West Elm coffee table. The carpet is by Sybilla for Nanimarquina

strategy serves to effectively amplify the drama of the natural Futurist designers of 20th-century Czechoslovakia. Now, the light that streaks into the flanking areas and also showcases sinuous volutes of a brace of Jindr˘ich Halabala chairs anchor the dramatic portrait of the owner painted by Schnabel in the sitting room, and the bold black-and-white-banded 1988 on a ground barnacled with broken china fragments. drawers of a Jiri Jiroutek chest add visual drama to the bed- room, while the country’s jaggedly Cubist glass vessels on the ‘My approach to decorating,’ Anh opines, ‘is like paint- window ledges refract the pearly Manhattan light. ing or sculpting. I look at the room like a canvas and place the furniture and choose the colours as I would make a still life or The citrussy curtains at the windows in this room were a portrait of a person who lives there. It is all about composi- woven in the fondouk of Tangier, a place that’s cast a special tion, colours and rhythm. I start with the artwork,’ she adds. spell on Anh. ‘I felt like I was bringing the sun of Tangier to ‘This is what dictates the rooms… I remember my worst stu- New York,’ she says. They shed light on two early self-por- dio visit was when a collector asked me if I had a painting that traits: her current ones are, she explains, ‘about gender, trying would match her peach couch. I was mortified.’ to redefine the meaning of it emotionally and physically’. Above her bed, a roundel from this series depicts the endlessly Anh’s decor is a palimpsest of memory and life experi- fascinating subject clasping a childhood teddy bear and girded ence. The elaborate giltwood mirror in the living room was with Joan of Arc armour. ‘The duality of strong and vulnera- spotted by her in a Left Bank antique shop near the Paris flat ble,’ Anh explains, ‘the dance of inviting and pushing away’ $ of Warhol’s dandified dealer Fred Hughes, where she used to Anh Duong. Visit anhduongart.com. ‘Without obsession I am lost’, stay with Schnabel. It arrived stylishly mounted on wooden curated by Isabelle Bscher of Galerie Gmurzynska, runs at Spring packing blocks and has remained thus encased ever since. In Place, Beverly Hills, until 1 Sept. By appointment only. For details the Noughties, Anh was briefly married to Barton Quillen, ring 001 310 591 8884, or visit springplace.com whose gallery, Prague Kolektiv, showcased the work of the Top: in the bedroom, a ‘Tosca’ bag from Dolce & Gabbana Alta Moda sits on a chest of drawers by Jiri Jiroutek. Its stripes chime with the carpet from Le Nouvel Atlas, Asilah. Anh Duong’s roundel is titled The Impossible Gender Frontiers, 2021. Opposite: portraits of the artist as a model by David Seidner hang above a Biedermeier commode topped with brass lanterns unearthed in the Tangier medina





AN ANGEL AT MY TABLE Modernism is a secular creed of the 20th century, yet Luis Barragán, its prime mover in Central America, was first and foremost devoutly religious. Catholic objects, from icons to crosses, are stationed throughout his Casa Ortega in Mexico City, named after the silversmith who bought it in 1947. Other articles of the architect’s faith, from local crafts and rational grids to pink accent walls, are also well worth venerating, writes Alejandro Hernández Gálvez. Photography: François Halard Left: patios and loggias abound. An antique wooden table and modern rush-seated chairs are typical too, as is a shelf/plinth displaying regional craft objects. Top: in this view of the main sitting room, one can appreciate the thickness of the tepetate (similar to adobe) brick walls, which keep the house well insulated. A former mine for the material sits beneath the foundations, informing Barragán’s choice. Sittings editor: Rudy Weissenberg

‘BARRAGAN’S home is garden and house, made inextrica- bly one.’ That is how Emilio Ambasz, curator of Moma’s 1976 exhibition The Architecture of Luis Barragán, describes the house that he built for himself in 1947. Indeed, the show’s press release credits the Mexican master as a landscape architect, restating a difference that Barragán himself had begun to blur in his own practice: for him, the two disci- plines were largely indivisible. He was born into a wealthy family in Guadalajara, the capital of the Mexican state of Jalisco, on 9 March 1902. Horses and haciendas, as well as devout Catholicism, were part of his upbringing. In 1919, when he was 17 years old, Barragán entered the Free School of Engineering in his native city, since there was no programme of architecture in any local school. (That changed in 1948, when Ignacio Díaz Morales, a close friend and colleague of our subject, founded the school of architecture at Guadalajara University.) Like many graduates from rich backgrounds, Barragán travelled to Europe in 1924. As well as the usual destinations on such a grand tour, such as Spain, France and Greece, he visited North Africa. On that first trip, the young traveller became more conscious of Modernist ideas, but what interested him most was the work of Ferdinand Bac. Born in 1859, Bac was a writer and artist who, aged 50, realised he had a talent as a gardener. He designed outside spaces and wrote books on the subject. Indeed, Barragán bought several copies of Les Colombières, in which the author discusses gardens he made in the city of Menton, on the Côte d’Azur, and Les Jardins Enchantés, which brings together drawings of planned landscapes. Both books were published in 1925, and on his return to Guadalajara, Barragán dished out all his extra copies to friends. He also embarked on what is now known as his first phase as an architect: houses that mix the Top: central to Barragán’s material language is the controlled use of a handful of the same materi- als, such as these volcanic stone floors and grid-like windows with black-painted iron frames in the entrance hall. Right: two vases from the copper-producing state of Michoacán sit between butaques designed by Clara Porset. The traditionally Venezuelan chair is ubiquitous in the Mexican’s projects



Right: stairs leading up from the Patio del Perol, an internal, private court- yard, to the Terraza del Angel summer dining terrace. Below: it was so called because a large figure of the archan- gel Gabriel once stood here. Rustic wooden furniture and a split Dutch door that would look at home in a ranch or stables are classic Barragán. They remind us that the architect was an accomplished horseman. He left the table and benches for the Ortegas Below: in the main sitting room, a large 17th-century painting of the Annun- ciation hangs above a suite of uphol- stered furniture, in its original silk-velvet fabric, that Alfredo Ortega commis- sioned from Clara Porset. A prominent cross used to be attached to the stable- style door, which leads to the Terraza del Angel, but it was removed at some point. It’s often left open for the sake of air flow. Right: a Russian Orthodox icon takes pride of place on the tepetate wall.