BECKER MINTY

We've Moved - Come and Join Us

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Wed, 13 Mar 2013 04:46:00 +0000

The BECKER MINTY blog has relocated to the new look BECKER MINTY website.

Come and join us at www.beckerminty.com where you'll find three blog streams - Instore, Interiors, and Inspiration - that cover all the elements of our beautiful world.

We'd also like to introduce you to BECKER MINTY Interior Design by Thomas Bucich.

Allow us to indulge your senses through the elements of space, form, light, texture and finish. Led by designer Thomas Bucich, BECKER MINTY offers a comprehensive Interior Design and Style Service to create bespoke interiors and furnishings to suit your individual desires, ensuring the highest attention to detail, quality and luxury.

Services include: Interior Design & Documentation, Custom Cabinetry, Furniture Design, Colour, Finishes & Art Consultation, Interior Styling, Commercial Design, Branding & Marketing Concepts

One final word on this site...we bid a very fond farewell to Rodney Hinde, who worked with us as Interior Decorator and Stylist, not to mention as our own witty and urbane design blogger, and who has now gone off to his next adventure.

Really Great Karma

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Wed, 19 Sep 2012 08:07:00 +0000

Our holiday did end on quite the glorious note.

And the mediterranean theme continued.

At Nammos Beach Club.

So named for Nammos beach in Mykonos.

And decorated for it as well.

And before anybody suggests that this may be incongruous, it wasn't.

Sure Bali is part of a continent with its own very rich aesthetic traditions.

And sure local inspiration abounds.

Maybe visitors can tire easily of things being 'too Asian'.

Which may beg the question: why are they there?

But this beach club was so seemlessly inspired, conceived and executed, and so sympathetic to the natural surrounds.

It is within the Karma Kandara resort, close to the southern most point of the island.

It was the furthest we ventured the entire week.

Except for those who visited Ubud.

I'd been there once before.

Heard it described as the Leura of Bali.

Once was enough for me.

But this spot I could visit time and time again.

We hired a bus to get there.

From memory it was about a 3 hour ride.

The driver waited.

All day.

While we luxuriated in the sun, frolicked in the shallow water, and supped lavishly.

And as the sun started to set, we headed back to our villas.

There were 11 of us that day.

And we shared the fare which was the equivalent of about $AUD100.

Sometimes I really did struggle with how inexpensive this luxury costs, and therefore how little the locals get paid.

It feels somehow fraudulent to live like a king on a shoestring.

Although we did spend a lot.

And we had a truly fabulous time.

But Bali is almost completely dependant on Australian tourism for its income.

And life there is inexpensive

So it would seem wrong not to go.

And I've already declared my undying love for the place.

And my commitment to returning.

And when I look at the image above of this beautiful beach.

With clear water.

No waves.

And sumptuous sun lounges between me and the sand, I am reminded why.

And it's a lot closer then Greece.

Even though I'm sure they could do with some Australian visitors too.

Petitenget

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Fri, 14 Sep 2012 05:56:00 +0000

When we weren't living it up in the lap of currency-exchange-friendly luxury, or sampling the Asian fusion cuisine of locally inspired eateries we very much enjoyed both the interior and the menu of Petitenget.

Delivering every Australian's expectations of a European-style brasserie in the tropics, Petitenget was something my travelling companions and I lazily described as 'that cute little French place on the corner'. Due no doubt to the look of the name we imagined being roughly pronounced as 'petite onjay'.
Kind of forgivable I suppose.
But not really.
For despite the fact that we were driven past this restaurant in air conditioned comfort almost twice daily for an entire week, not one of us noticed that it actually took its name from the name of the street it sits on.
By the time we did make the association it was almost time to leave the island.
And in our infinite sun-soaked wisdom felt sure the name must therefore be Dutch.
I have since discovered that this very long street and other places in the general region take their name from a local temple.
Called Temple Petitenget.
So it's a local word.
Shouldn't surprise me.
This is an area that gives us place names like Seminyak. Legian. Denpassar.
Sadly though, developing a knowledge of local language and culture, beyond 'Selamaat' and 'nasi goreng' is fairly low on the average tourist's list of Getting to Know Bali.
And I am as guilty as anybody.
Somebody who would secretly see himself as an aesthete and a linguist is actually as much a philistine as the next person.

So in blissful ignorance we supped on the slightly Asian infused essentially Mediterranean style fare we find at home.
And even though we were only there for a week, at least twice in that time we desired something 'familiar'.

But the food was great.
The service pretty good.
And the environment really very beautiful...
For anybody who enjoys Noosa, Mosman or Woollahra.
Which, apparently, we do.

Big W

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Fri, 14 Sep 2012 04:55:00 +0000

One venue we visited several times was the W.

Now I'm sure we all remember when the Blue at Woolloomoolloo was the W.

Loved it then.

Still do, in fact.

And about 15 years ago I stayed at the W in New York.

Lexington and 57th.

Mind totally blown.

But the W in Bali.

Completely out of this world.

From the long driveway.

To the W set with leaves and flowers.

The lagoon pools.

Woo Bar.

Lounge areas.

Everything.

It feels like its own little lavish principality, tucked away from the sights of the rabble.

If Seminyak has become the French Riviera of the region, then the W is Monaco.

Without the gamble.

A guaranteed win.

Sarong

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Fri, 14 Sep 2012 01:33:00 +0000

One of the holiday highlights, and the scene of the main event, Sarong was an absolute delight.

Set back from the road, the entrance to this restaurant created the sensation of a fabulous walled garden, great splendour concealed behind.

Unlike the venue in the previous post Sarong delivered on its promise.

Once inside the temple like gates the meandering path leads you across a serene lawn to something truly splendid.

The building meets all your expectations of 'classic Balinese' without any hint of touristy tackiness.

And the styling is exactly my thing.

Dutch colonial meets relaxed glam.

Aristocratic Safari.

Are they even categories?

Now I know I keep banging on about this whole colonial thing, but I will remind you that Indonesia was in fact a Dutch colony.

And there are many reminders of this in carved motifs, the occasional street name, and indeed whole buildings. And it's all just a little bit reminiscent of the whole Anglo-Indian thing you know I love so much.

You know, oppressive white people creating stylish surrounds in a tropical clime.

But it was done in a very contemporary classic kind of way.

Modern seating with interesting textures.

Tables that were at once slightly rustic, yet quite refined.

And your classic Louis XVI fauteuil, which although not quite right for the locale, somehow worked to remind us of the former period of gracious European life.

Finish it all off with chandeliers and organza curtains, and I'm pretty damn happy.

Potato Head

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Thu, 13 Sep 2012 06:11:00 +0000

The new hot favourite beach club in Bali has the unfortunate name of Potato Head.
Apparently everybody's talking about it.
So much so, that when I expressed my desire to return to Cocoon, I was quickly shushed, with the assurance that Potato Head was THE place.
And that nobody goes to Cocoon anymore.
Even though we'd been there the day before.
So, keen not to miss out on all the excitement, I agreed to go there.
We accessed it via a very long driveway, always a suspense builder.
And upon our arrival at the entrance the amazing structure both delivered and promised so much.

It had fabulous glamour written all over it. A collage of painted wooden shutters contrasting beautifully with monolithic concrete. The image provided by the shutters is said to be inspired by the work of Gustav Klimt. I could sort of see it, but the connection seemed tenuous at best.

The shutter concept continued inside, and I was really loving the reference to casual beach side living, even in such an environment.

However, the rest of the concept once inside the great wall of shutters did not seem to me to hang together very well. I didn't like it at all. It seemed a fusion of things that should never be introduced.

I do need to qualify this by saying that I have always been more of a fan of the small venue.

Intimate.

And exclusive.

And while I understand the decisions behind creating a larger venue, I always feel the owners are casting too wide a net.

Hedging their bets.

Trying to attract a range of demographics through an unsettling cocktail of spaces and decors.

And losing any edge in doing so.

And one of the defining decors in this space is one that I have always just found daggy and suburban

That 1950s / 60s retro Scandinavian thing.

Which seemed totally irrelevant to the locale.

I will concede that there were elements that worked well.

Like the bar area immediately upon entry. There was a sense of California, which strangely worked really well, the Palm Springs elements possibly permitted by the palm trees.

But then in the main dining area they'd taken the retro furniture thing too far, and I felt like I was in the Brady Bunch's family room.

But beside the pool.

It really didn't work.

And then there was the pool area.

I mean, obviously it was quite nice.

But your only lounging options were big communal daybeds.

In two big uninspired rows.

That bore little stylistic relationship to any other features.

And appeared to be occupied by that widely caught demographic I was talking about before.

Now I am not hung up on cool.

I don't have to go to the latest and greatest.

I am happy with something that is new to me.

But I also like venues tried and true.

I like places to be fun, and interesting.

Comfortable.

And cohesive.

None of which I can really say about Potato Head.

Plus the service was dreadful...

Now generally the service in Bali is not especially efficient.

And I feel it's not right to complain, when you consider how little the locals are paid.

But it's usually very friendly.

Everything is at least served with a smile on the side.

But not here.

I did, however, have one favourable experience at this legendary club.

A beverage in which I felt unqualified to partake:

The Millionaire's Martini.

In fact I had two.

So as a result, my memories of the ingredients are kind of hazy.

But I know it involved some passionfruit.

And basically came with a Bellini on the side.

Which upon reflection probably helped with the disjointed decor.

And made my final impression as delicious as my first.

Cocoon

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Thu, 13 Sep 2012 00:08:00 +0000

The first outing on our first full day in paradise saw us revisiting Cocoon, the scene of some luxurious poolside memories from my previous trip.
Those of you who haven't visited Bali are perhaps reading this thinking poolside? but surely there's beautiful beaches?
Yes, there are.
But not in Seminyak.
Well perhaps the beaches are nice, but the crowds on the beach are not.
And nor are the peddlars.
And the water is not that clean.
And it's kind of warm.
So it's all about poolside.
And not just your own pool.
Nor the communal pool at the resort.
But the pool at the Beach Club.
So called because it's beside the beach.
Or perhaps even across the road from the beach.
But not actually on the beach.

Upholstered sun lounges.
That are yours all day long.
Perfectly positioned and stable umbrellas.
No sand.
Yes, no sand.
Heaven.
And staff.
Endless staff.
To bring you towels.
Sustenance.
And beverages.
You need never get up.
Except of course to dip in the cool, still, clean water.

Although should you so choose there's private day beds....

And quite the range of indoor and outdoor dining and bar options...

Since returning home I have read that Bali is fast becoming the St Tropez of the southern hemisphere.

Now I didn't notice celebrities, royalty or excessively large motor launches.

But there is a decidedly mediterranean flavour to much that is on offer there, while still retaining a clear local identity.

Quite the fusion.

And Cocoon exemplifies this perfectly.

Chic, comfortable and location appropriate.

I've been to Bali too

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Wed, 12 Sep 2012 06:19:00 +0000

And then I went to Bali.
Two weeks after returning from London.
And before I go any further I assure you that my life doesn't usually look like this, but for various reasons this is how the timing happened.
The main reason being the 40th birthday of a close friend, Bali being deemed to be a great meeting point for both Australian and English contingents.
Although heavily weighing in our favour.
Now I don't know about you, but my first trip to Bali was only two years ago. And it was only due to heavy campaigning by a friend that I agreed to go.
Prior to that I had always dismissed Bali as the not-my-type-of-Aussie holiday destination.
But thank God my friend persevered.
For now I am a convert, and aim to spend a week there annually.

We stayed at the luxurious Sentosa Private Villas in Seminyak.
After the overheated and hectic airport experience, followed by an arctic air-conditioned airport bus ride, the serene and seemingly temperate environs of this resort were a welcome relief.

There is a little bit of cultural cross-polination which can be slightly challenging for the purist, however, the overall effect was really very beautiful and soothing.

The Japanese pond with large paving stones and coy carp set the tone upon entry.

I wasn't sure about the large stone figure, which we lazily described as Buddha, however, as Bali is a Hindu enclave in a Muslim state, other possibilities clearly abound.

The quadrangle of bedrooms and shared living space around the private pool nods ever so slightly to a Dutch-Indonesian colonial aesthetic. And if you've read any of my previous postings you will know how I feel about a colonial reference.

I especially loved the bedrooms.

Complete with mosquito-net canopied four poster beds and multiple gold cushions a la Anouska Hempel (the bolster being one of my favourite touches), it felt Asian and ancient Roman all at once.

And while I hesitate to use the unimaginative 'east meets west' it crazily managed to achieve this in a cohesive way.

So with this, and our inflatable Havaiana, as our base, this group of Aussie holiday makers enjoyed a week of Balinese merriment.

Final trip of the trip

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Fri, 17 Aug 2012 03:16:00 +0000

My final cultural outing, after a whirlwind tour of eating, shopping and gallery-hopping, was a nostalgic one for me.
I saw the Wallace Collection.
It had been the very first museum I had visited on my first trip to London, 23 years ago. I was with my mother, who had ensured that I saw as much London-specific culture as possible, limiting time for the 'frivolous' pursuits of shopping and bar-hopping: "You can do that anywhere!"
One of her favourites, the Wallace Collection, remained in my memory as one of my favourites as well, however, despite numerous trips to the UK since, I did not return until this year.

The collection's home is Hertford House, a magnificent 18th century abode, at the crown of Manchester Square, just off Hinde Street (perhaps another explanation for the enduring appeal of this museum to my family) slap bang in the middle of central London. It has been much added to over the years but still retains its overall elegant Georgian country house feel, which, as you've probably worked out by now, I can be all about.
The interior and the collection, however, go beyond elegance to extreme opulence.

The collection comprises artworks, decorative objects, furniture, sculpture, ceramics, arms and armoury collected over almost 2 centuries by the four Marquesses of Hertford and Sir Richard Wallace (illegitimate son of the 4th Marquess). It was bequeathed to the nation by Lady Wallace in 1897. One of the conditions of the bequest was that the collection must remain intact, no piece ever to be removed or added.
As a result the collection is displayed very much as it would have been at the time that the house was inhabited by its original owners.

The French furniture is the most dominant and defining feature of the collection, and is said to be one of the finest and most significant in the world, and it was this that I was most interested to see. However, although I had remembered there to be an abundance of rococo elegance, the reality of excessive baroque ornateness provided a level of sumptuousness that was too rich to fully absorb.
Especially at the end of an exhausting, albeit stimulating trip.

So I shamefully admit that I did in fact only skim the surface of this important collection. There were of course many highlights, and three particular standouts.

And I am now being somewhat lazy in my writing about them, but I know that I couldn't have done it better than the museum's catalogue descriptions.

"Perhaps the finest and most important example of the Rococco style in the decorative arts in the Wallace Collection, this commode was delivered by Gaudreaus for Louis XV’s new bedchamber in April 1739. A design for the commode attributed to the sculptor Sébastien-Antoine Slodtz, now in the Bibliothèque Nationale, reveals that the mounts were originally intended to be much more symmetrical. However, as executed by the master bronzier Caffiéri, they are wildly exuberant and seem to grow organically in every direction over the surface of the commode. Louis XV, as he lay dying in his bed, is said to have thought that in the flickering firelight, the mounts looked like the flames of hell. The commode was inherited by the King’s First Gentleman of the Bedchamber, the duc d’Aumont, who probably replaced the original red and grey marble top with this one of serpentine marble."

I've always loved this shape of piece, and was first introduced to it properly during my time working with anqtiques. The word commode always intrigued me though as I had always felt it to be like a very posh, very old pre-cursor to the port-a-loo. Clearly the word has other applications.

And of course it is a privilege to see one of the finest and earliest examples of a shape that is so popular today, in pieces with a range of merit.

"Delivered by Riesener on 8 July 1780 for Marie-Antoinette at Versailles, this drop-front writing desk is one of several similar pieces, some stamped by Jean-François Oeben and some by Riesener (who took over his workshop after Oeben’s death), all produced between the early 1760s and 1780. The transitional style of the desk, with its elaborate acanthus mounts and iconographical marquetry including the cockerel of France on the drop-front contrasting with the neo-classical male mounts on either side and marquetry urns on the lower doors, indicates that it would have been largely out-of-date as soon as it was delivered in 1780. Indeed, Marie-Antoinette only kept the piece in her cabinet intérieur or private study for three years, before replacing it with another, more feminine desk now also in the Wallace Collection."

Jean-Henri Riesener was one of the most celebrated, and possibly finest, 'ebenistes' (cabinet makers) in 18th century France. And I do love the concept of a secretaire, roughly translating to secretary, so called not as one may think for the writing of letters, but for the keeping of secrets, hence the drop-front writing table, which locks to conceal the contents.

I also did pause to wonder at the procurement of this piece. Despite the English sympathy towards the French aristocracy's plight at the hands of the revolutionaries, they may have been keen to snap up some bargains post 1792.

"This grand wardrobe is one of two in the Wallace Collection. The main purpose of the piece was for display, but it was also fitted with shelves for storing linen or other items. The figurative, gilt-bronze mounts on the centre of the doors represent Apollo and Daphne and Apollo flaying Marsyas, mythological stories derived from Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Boulle himself was a compulsive collector and owned a series of drawings after the Metamorphoses by Raphael, destroyed in his workshop fire of 1720. The wardrobe was once in the collection of the Duke of Buckingham at Stowe House. The interior was lined with peach blossom silk and fitted with gilt-bronze brackets and hooks to hold the clothes of Queen Victoria when she visited in 1845, three years before the 4th Marquess purchased the wardrobe."

Andre-Charles Boulle was another of the most celebrated cabinet makers of 18th century France, and is largely acclaimed for perfecting marquetry inlay in furniture, specifically inlay of brass and tortoiseshell.

This was therefore the perfect finale before heading back to reality, home and to work, for you know how we feel about all things gold and animal related at Becker Minty.

Migrations

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Wed, 08 Aug 2012 04:21:00 +0000

The second exhibition of the day, called Migrations: Journeys Into British Art, held so much promise for me. Described in the blurb as exploring the impact of migration on British art, I was left with the misunderstanding that this exhibition would showcase colonial art.
My mistake, as I cast only a quick glance.
As you may know from previous blog postings, I do love anything British Empire and Colonial, so I was a little excited, especially given that the Tate is known for housing such pieces.

Johan Zoffany, Colonel Mordaunt's Cock Match, c 1785

Alas, 'twas not to be. The true theme had been the impact on British art of artists migrating to Britain through the ages, which although conceptually interesting, did not excite and challenge me in quite the same way as the Picasso exhibition had. Despite its being a natural extension of the theme of the Picasso exhibition, going so far as to celebrate the contribution of foreign artists to British art

Obvious, and of course beautiful, examples can be seen in the influence of Dutch, Flemish and other continental painters on portaiture from the Renaissance and beyond.

Hans Holbein, Anne of Cleves, c 1539

Anthony van Dyck, Charles I, 1636

My most notable reaction was the realisation that all the 'foreign' names in British art were so entrenched in the annals of British art history that their 'foreignness' went unnoticed.

And the two works that I liked the most were paintings whose origin I would have unidentified incorrectly were it not for the catalogue.

Tissot, Portsmouth Dockyard, c 1877

James Tissot was French born, of Italian heritage, and mainly worked in France, where he lived and died. But both these works show English harbour scenes in Portsmouth, and although showing a decidedly French style, reminiscent of Manet and Toulouse Lautrec, also display the easy wealth of the American bourgeoisie so frequently displayed in American art of the period.

Who would have thought?

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Tue, 07 Aug 2012 01:44:00 +0000

My second cultural expedition came the day after visiting the Saatchi Gallery, and saw me taking in the flagship gallery of the Tate Britain, mentioned in a previous blog posting.
There were a number of exhibitions running at this time, however two of them were of particular interest to me: Picasso & Modern British Art, and Migrations.

Picasso & Modern British Art was a beautifully and uniquely curated show, exploring the reciprocal influence of Picasso and modern British artists.
Obviously I did not pay due diligence in my long ago completed Art History degree, for although I was aware of similar themes prevailing in the UK and on the continent during the 20th century, I was totally unaware of an ongoing visual discourse between Picasso and his British contemporaries.

Below are three examples of Picasso's works alongside those of his British counterparts that were real standouts of the exhibition.

Picasso, The Source, 1921

Henry Moore, Reclining Figure, 1936

Picasso, Three Dancers, 1925

Francis Bacon, Crucifixion, 1933

Picasso, Still Life With A Guitar, 1924

Ben Nicholson, Coin & Musical Instruments, 1933

Several pictures clearly say several thousand words, and will say them so much better than I will in an under-qualified art theory discourse. But I do hope showing these images together shares some of the inspiration and edification I experienced when seeing them in this exceptionally interesting and beautiful exhibition.
Particularly poignant when you consider that the Tate is renowned for a leading collection of British art since 1500.

The Grand Old Duke of York

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Wed, 18 Jul 2012 08:00:00 +0000

My first cultural outing saw me taking in the wonder that is the Saatchi Gallery, also in Chelsea.
I had originally anticipated it being a space in which was showcased a rotating selection of Charles and Doris Saatchi's private art collection.
But no.
It is in fact a gallery created to exhibit the works of emerging or little known contemporary British artists, and contemporary artists from elsewhere who are relatively unknown in the UK.
First established over 25 years ago, the Gallery has been in its current location since 2008.
And that location is magnificent.

Adjacent to a sprawling luscious lawn, the gallery is housed in the former of Duke of York's Headquarters, an elegant late Georgian building (completed 1801), complete with so many of my favourite features, including beautifully aged red brick, fan light windows and a Pantheon-like portico popped on the front.

The interior, however, does kind of kill me. Very few signs of the original interior remain, and I am all about a traditional architectural feature.

However, I do love the original being juxtaposed to the contemporary, particularly when done so unapologetically, where the contrast gives integrity to both styles, and they appear seamlessly joined.

Of course, of greater import are the works on show. And of all the amazing pieces I saw the one that resonated the most for me was this incredible installation. It is a site specific installation that occupies the entirety of a single massive room. It is the work of Richard Wilson, one of Britain's most celebrated sculptors

The immediate effect of the work on the viewer is one of great calm, despite having very little idea what the work actually is. And to describe it won't do it justice, but I'll try.

The railing you see in the above image is on the purpose built viewing mezzanine.

The thin black line you see around the perimeter and the pillar is the rim of a tray fixed to the wall. This tray is filled with oil. And the effect, although mildly confusing, is in fact mesmerising. For what appears on the surface of the oil is in fact the reflection of everything above the tray.

The oil, although shallow, conveys a sense of a bottomless pool.

And into this pool is submerged a sunken and tapering walkway to nowhere.

I am not an art critic, so I won't endeavour to 'explain' this work. But I did enjoy how it deeply challenged notions of space and texture, in an incredibly provoking way, but without causing any discomfort.

The Saatchi Gallery, and this work specifically, is absolutely one of the major highlights of my trip.

Cheers in Chelsea

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Mon, 16 Jul 2012 06:12:00 +0000

Next stop Tom's Kitchen in Chelsea - fabulous casual brasserie style eatery, and rumoured haunt of a courting Wills and Kate.

Part of the empire of celebrity chef Tom Aikens, this is exactly my style of restaurant.

You can drink at the bar without having to order any food.

If you do order the food it is absolutely sensational.

The service is perfect. The exact right balance of professional, familiar and attentive.

And the environment is great: although I feel we are at risk of overdoing the whole industrial look right now, I really like the way it's done here.
The space is theoretically a little overstuffed, but in an orderly fashion.
And the elements, although potentially disparate, come together beautifully.
Industrial fans and lights amongst painted pillars.
Subway tiles with wood panelling.
Rusted courtyard mirrors alongside Old Master replicas.
All of which create the perfect mood for any tone.

Which really works for me, because I can be all about anything from a quick tete a tete over a glass of wine to a long and noisy boozy lunch, and Tom's Kitchen offers all of this.

A trip down St Martin's Lane

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Sun, 15 Jul 2012 23:24:00 +0000

First port of call was to the much celebrated St Martin's Lane Hotel, to collect another traveling Australian.
As you may imagine it is on St Martin's Lane, which is in Covent Garden, in the West End, the traditional home of the performing arts in London.
This area was just pumping.
All day and all night.
There seems little evidence of the recession we all know Britain to be in, and the warmth and sunshine had neutralised the much publicised negativity from locals towards the upcoming Olympics.

The St Martin's Lane Hotel is in an unassuming building that resembles government offices, or low rent accommodation. The only exterior evidence of the luxury that lies within comes in the form of a perfect pair of topiary plants at the main entrance.

But upon walking through that revolving glass door, you are instantly transported into a cool, quiet sanctuary. The expansive space is defiant in its mere presence, given the crowds outside, and the tiny inner city dwellings for which this city is known.

Designed by Philippe Starck, who I've always felt is appropriately named, it does have that ultra modern cool concrete thing going on, of which I am not a big fan.

However, the palette, the opulent Louis inspired furniture and the witty touches in the other pieces bring warmth and personality, making it inviting and comforting.

And although I felt way too uncool to actually stay there, my traveling companion and I enjoyed the refuge provided by the foyer, the bar and the restaurant on several occasions.

Through the ages

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Sun, 15 Jul 2012 09:28:00 +0000

I'm going to go a little off topic here and over the next few days share some images and experiences from my recent trip to London. I have been there on numerous occasions and each time I discover something new, and rediscover something much loved.
And this time I was really reminded of the old and new cohabiting so cohesively together. London means such different things to so many people, all of whom have equal ownership of it, and its many different areas.
And they're not just the locals.
The first time I went there I was 18 years old, and one of the first things I did was to go shopping.
As you do.
I remember walking down the massively wide footpaths of Oxford St and hearing so many different languages being spoken around me. It was a truly exhilarating experience. For these languages were not just being spoken by handfuls of tourists, or small groups of minority migrants; they were being spoken by hordes of people from all over the world, in London for all manner of purpose, who belonged to London as much as the English, and to whom London was very much home, no matter where they were from, or how long they stayed.
London to me really is the centre of the western world, with only New York to compete for this title. Yet while New York's sense of history and tradition cannot be denied, it cannot compare to London on this.

I stayed in an apartment in a tucked away little corner of Westminster, a borough famed for the high profile Abbey and Houses of Parliament, but also a densely populated and very quiet residential area.

My accommodation displayed perfectly that English predilection for a greatly pared back version of grand country style in even the smallest of urban dwellings.

And while I have never been a fan of the 'country look', this particular penchant seems to be a defining experience, and one that I enjoy in this context.

The apartment was in a multi-story red brick Victorian style building, that was originally built as council housing in the first quarter of the 20th century.

Part of the Peabody Estate, so named for the philanthropist who helped fund such projects all over England, each of the buildings in this unique zone is named after a famous 19th century artist.

Turner House.

Rossetti House.

To name a couple.

Which is particularly pertinent to the location of these buildings, just behind the original Tate Gallery.

First opened in 1897 to house Sir Henry Tate's gift to the nation of his private collection of British art, the building is a fabulous example of late 19th century embellished classicism.

Palladian meets Victorian.
And despite its grandeur contrasting quite starkly with the modesty of its neighbouring buildings, its contents and function clearly inspired their names.
And interestingly for a colonial visitor, the mother ship of the Tate Britain is built on the site of a former penitentiary where detained convicts awaited transportation to Australia.

Nearby addresses also include the quietly grand Vincent Square and Marsham St.

The former is one of the largest private garden squares in London, home to a substantial cricket club and pitch right in the middle of central London. The buildings lining this quadrangle vary in age from 17th to 19th century; many are apartment buildings, some are still single houses. And although only a finely honed stone's throw from those of the Peabody Estate, cater to a very different demographic, mainly very old, under the radar, aristocratic money.

Neighbouring Marsham St is defined by its unique deco architecture from the early 20th century. Although reminiscent of grand deco apartment blocks in America, theirs is a particularly English take on art deco, a style not widely seen in Britain. And again the residents hale from another sector of society: many of these are the London bolt-holes for members of parliament from all over the country, easily accessible to Westminster Palace, but within a surprisingly quiet and serene enclave.

So with this uniquely peopled and out-of-the-limelight neighbourhood as my platform, I set forth to enjoy the multi-layered inspiration that London can provide.

Indian gift

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Wed, 06 Jun 2012 06:08:00 +0000

This exquisite Anglo-Indian ivory box is from my own personal treasures, and one I felt compelled to share. Especially given the fondness that both Becker Minty and our clients have for small decorative boxes.

It is a piece I have owned for many, many years, purchased from an antique dealer I worked for.

I had long coveted it, and although felt quite sure that it would one day be mine, it was not something I could afford, and was waiting for the right time.

That right time came sooner than I'd imagined when I thought that one of my colleagues had sold it.

I felt such distress that when I realised that another ivory box had in fact sold, I knew I just had to buy this one.

I use the term 'buy' loosely, for I in fact worked 2 days a week without pay until I'd worked the equivalent of the box's value, at which point it became mine.

And I continue to love it as much as I did when I first saw it.

It dates from the mid to late 19th century and is a beautiful remnant of the British Raj.

If we turn a blind eye to the reality of imperialism, we can savour the romantic ideal of an aristocratic English life transposed to harsh tropical climes.

Anglo-Indian, along with other true Colonial pieces, represent an elegant fusion of classical lines and local craftsmanship.

This particular piece does that perfectly.

Cased in ivory, clearly a local product, worked by Indian artisans, it is decorated with a technique that is essentially like that of the tattoo artist. The decoration itself is virtually English rococo.

And as for its function: it's a glove box. For kid gloves, no less. Soft, luxurious and fairly unnecessary in India.

So when you're not wearing them you pop them in this box, protected from the humidity by the sandalwood interior.

And that interior still releases the beautiful aroma of sandalwood.

After 140 years.

As long as glorious pieces like this survive the sun really never will set on the British Empire.

Set in stone

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Mon, 28 May 2012 04:51:00 +0000

You saw it here first.

Part of the collection from Jason Minty’s most recent worldwide shopping spree, this box has every tick for me.

Classic art deco, it features white stone bricks, and is reminiscent of the monumental architectural style of the era.

Think Chicago and New York.

The MCA on Sydney Harbour.

Perfect in the Macleay Regis.

Its shape is beautiful, the oblong stonework softened by the curved outline.

And made almost whimsical by the exquisite brass and malachite inlay, wrapping around like a luxurious ribbon.

Used for centuries as a pigment, in furniture and in jewellery, malachite is beyond comparison with its variegated shades of lustrous green.

A true natural wonder.

Perfectly teamed with the thin strips of curving brass.

We are loving all things golden, and the craftsmanship in this is superb.

And then you open this masterpiece on its smooth brass hinge, to reveal a beautifully warm wood lined interior.

Such an interior can protect the contents from the outside elements.

Cigars? Kid gloves? An old letter penned on crepe-like parchment?

Perhaps there’s nothing at all.

And that’s perfectly OK.

For it need be nothing more than decorative.

Because it does that perfectly.

Opulent simplicity

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Mon, 21 May 2012 05:35:00 +0000

Is it wrong to have a new favourite thing every week?
I think not.
This spectacular bowl has me totally mesmerised. Hand-made in black glass, its beauty lies in its irregularity.

I love how the gorgeously textured exterior challenges you to question what the material is, while the almost circular shape is made more beautiful through its subtle asymmetry.
Organic yet restrained.

The elegant convex sides invite you to peer inside, to glimpse a view of the reflective black pool they enclose, creating an illusion of depth that belies the shallow height of the edge.
And you know how we feel about a high gloss black surface at Becker Minty.

With a diameter of 50 cm it makes quite the dramatic statement, and while you may wish to fill it, for me it's enough for it just to be.
For form, of course, really does follow function; and if the function is to be beautiful, then this bowl is indeed perfectly formed.

Urbane safari

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Wed, 02 May 2012 02:49:00 +0000

If asked to choose my favourite furniture, I would nominate all things Campaign: pared back, clean lined and cleverly designed, it appeals to my love of history while ticking the efficiency and utility boxes.

Attributed to the conquering Brits who transported Georgian chic to all climes, each piece was meticulously designed so that the warring officer class could have home comforts wherever they sallied forth. Required to re-camp and de-camp at irregular intervals, the furniture needed for such travels had to be easily assembled, folded, stowed and transported.

You could say it pre-empted the modern flat-pack, although in truth it took much of its inspiration from the ancient Romans, the original flat-packers with their folding thrones and demountable cities, creating microcosms of Rome all along their campaign trail.

This fabulous folding stool really puts the camp back into campaign.

The zebra skin seat may have been a little ambivalent in its straddling of traditional and contemporary, so just to erase any doubt, they popped it on a brass frame, and took it to a whole new level.

So Becker Minty.

It’s a contemporary piece, made in Italy, the cradle of all things sophisticated. And while the Italians too did their fair share of damage in Africa, there is nothing remotely outdoorsy about this.

Clever, compact and oh so glamorous, it’s perfect for even the smallest of empires.

And did I mention there’s two?

Happily ensconced

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Wed, 21 Mar 2012 03:50:00 +0000

This elegant wall sconce has completely changed my apartment.
I don't normally post about my own abode, but this particular acquisition has proven a triumph.

The appeal of this fabulous piece lay in its obvious classical inspiration, the touch of gold that I have always loved but am especially embracing right now, and the contemporary addition of black opaque shades.

Like many of Becker Minty's amazing furniture pieces and decorative accessories, this was made in Spain. And like many of our Spanish-sourced pieces nods to the classic aristocratic lines of the late 18th and early 19th century, but with a rustic edge and a contemporary cool.

I would go so far as to say that the addition of this single item has brought with it a major transformation. Wall lights as a concept are a clever idea and they're making a comeback, providing a softer alternative to a harsh downlight, without taking up any of the valuable surface area of a floor lamp or table lamp.
In the case of this example, it has added volume, colour and texture to a zone that although very small, was feeling like a vast expanse of bland.

And there was a pair so I bought them both. For, while I don't have the perfect spot for the second one, it's sacrilege to split a set - partly out of respect for the object, but also for the fact that you may live to regret splitting them, and you'll never find them again.

But for now I am happy looking at just the one. It's one of the first things I see when I arrive home.
A stylish fixture with a flattering light: the perfect tone.

A real corker

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Fri, 24 Feb 2012 03:10:00 +0000

This is something I happened to see at a client's house recently, and it really appealed to me: a small side table in the form of a champagne cork.
It lives in a contemporary environment of clean straight lines and shiny modern surfaces, serving to provide a contrasting shape, colour and texture as well as adding a touch of whimsy.
And let's face it, its function is essential - who doesn't need somewhere to put their drink?
It's also reasonably light and easy to move, so no matter where you're drinking it's there to support you: champagne cork table - pop it anywhere you like.
Cheers to that.

Sleeping with the Stars

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 03:20:00 +0000

I recently attended a lecture by uber-fab Interior Designer Martyn Lawrence-Bullard, he of Million Dollar Decorator fame.
He counts amongst his illustrious clients such luminaries as Cher, Elton John & Tamara Mellon, creating houses that are both comfortable and elegant.
Luxurious sanctuaries.
On a grand scale.
I love, love, love his work, and although the style of his projects can vary considerably, all share a common thread of opulence through texture, and feature sumptuous fabrics, employing one of my favourite concepts: a textile on a wall.
He especially loves it above a bed.
As do I.

Decoration above the bed draws the eye upward, adding height to a section of wall that can often feel low if there is only a bedhead, or nothing at all. It can balance the other high pieces in the room such as curtains or wardrobes. It's the perfect place to add colour and texture, or repeat those appearing elsewhere. And nothing does all of that quite like a textile.

But I must admit its appeal for me is also safety-driven: a large framed painting or photograph over my head inspires little more than nightmares of death by artwork.

And as for a mirror over the bed, I find this pointless.
Now don't misunderstand me, I do love a mirror.
It's one of the oldest (and best) decorating tricks in the book, creating an illusion of extra space and bringing more light into a room.
I love it in all the usual places, and especially love an entire mirrored wall.
But not, I repeat, NOT over the bed.
This is something I have often seen on real estate websites, in panoramic landscape form. This shape not only serves to stretch the room out where it's unnecessary, it creates a sense of low ceiling, which is something you don't want, no matter how cosy the space. And to die in your sleep covered in a thousand shards of your own fragmented refection would be truly tragic.

So for a truly stellar bedroom experience, with texture, colour, drama and warmth (and putting safety first), remember: rug up.

Duel

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 03:46:00 +0000

'Two' seems to have been a bit of a theme for my blog recently, but I assure you I'm not all about a pair. I love a cluster. I'm all about balance through asymmetry, and I have an ongoing friendly struggle with a client who loves everything in pairs, often with a single item in between. I call it the 'shrine' style of decorating, and I tend to find it a little stagnant.

I prefer objects to encourage the eye to run smoothly about the space, resting on the key pieces and the spaces in-between, then gently moving on.

However, I do absolutely LOVE this perfectly symmetrical World of Interiors cover. It is not quite current but I've only just received my copy, and it's the mail I look forward to the most.

This magazine always inspires and delights, and this particular cover features SO many of my favourite things - a wall sconce, a wall-mounted mask, a rococo commode, a bit of taxidermy (not quite sure where you find a unicorn these days) and then they doubled it all.
Taking it from whimsical to fabulous.
And when combined with a wide-board oak floor, a controversial wall colour over every architectural feature and finished with an unexpected pendant light it's truly fantastical.

Two for One

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 00:06:00 +0000

A mini sofa, an oversized armchair, call it what you will... we prefer the term Love Seat.

Very cosy.

The shape is very classic and super smart - like an upright 1940s take on a chesterfield.

I love a bit of studding, and it's got that most elegant of elements - a pair of bolster cushions.

I'm also loving the single scatter cushion in the same fabric - very cool. And let's just talk about that fabric for a minute: it's a casual canvas in a chic shade of grey, which gives a comfortable tone to an otherwise very formal design.

With its easy elegance and relaxed luxury this too is a piece that can work in many environments, and has a range of applications.

Perch with a tea, lounge with a book, or our favourite, curl up on it with your plus one.

Round Two

noreply@blogger.com (BECKER MINTY) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 03:53:00 +0000

So you’ve probably picked up on the fact that I am loving all things gold right now. Truth be known, I always have. But recently I’m seeing it in every fab place I look. And while I’ve always been more attracted to the old than the new, there’s nothing I like more than a clever new take on something tried and true.

Just look at these – so cool. A clever little nest of 2 circular tables. Put them with a single chair, curving around the end of a sofa, or in the centre of an-L shaped modular - round is visually less intrusive than square, and provides an oft-needed softening effect. And I’m loving the fact that there are 2 in the set – there's usually three in a nest and I never quite know what to do with the third; it just gets in the way and takes up space.

And they are truly, truly beautiful. Featuring a distressed gold leaf finish, the top of each is an inset round mirror that has been aged. They feel so contemporary yet so antique. Whether you’re going for Georgian, Deco or 70s Vegas these can slot right in; rustic or urban, industrial or refined, they’ll work with it all.