When, in 1935, the Bright Young Thing Edward James (rumoured to be the illegitimate son of Edward VII) moved into Monkton House in West Sussex, a Lutyens-designed shooting lodge that had originally been built for his parents, he decided to make some changes. Declaring “I wanted to get away from that cottage-y look that Lutyens went in for,” Edward had the house painted a metallic purple, the front door pink and disguised the pillars as palm trees and the drain pipes as bamboo. Inside, in collaboration with Salvador Dali, he had the walls padded to resemble those of an asylum, his bed modelled on Nelson’s hearse and in his bathroom arranged for lights to shine through the alabaster walls, like planets.
At Edward's suggestion, Dali designed sofas for the drawing room based on the lips in his collage Mae West’s Face which May be used as a Surrealist Apartment, and Edward oversaw the production of lamps made of stacks of bronzed champagne coups. The Dali lips sofas were red, incidentally – which is significant, because when, later, James commissioned one in shocking pink, possibly inspired by the Italian fashion designer Elsa Schiaparelli, he “couldn’t even bring himself to sit on it,” recounts Kathryn Johnson, the curator of Objects of Desire: Surrealism and Design, 1924 – Today at the Design Museum. Evidently, everyone has a line – even someone who had gleefully embraced Dali’s idea that in his London house, the walls “should heave like a sick dog’s stomach” (Edward originally planned to cover them in dog hair).
Whether you find it revolting or strangely compelling, Surrealism – the movement which has at its premise a desire to free the creative imagination from convention – is having a significant moment; the subject of recent shows at the Tate Modern, the Whitechapel Gallery and more, it was even the theme of last year’s Venice Biennale. However, the Design Museum exhibition is the first in recent years to concentrate on Surrealist interiors, an important focus not only for lovers of the history of decoration. Having been deeply embedded in Freudian – and thus by extension Surrealist – thought, the idea of home is a psychologically rich theme in Surrealism. In relation to Monkton, English Heritage lost its seven-month campaign to save the house in the 1980s. Apparently, the National Heritage Memorial Fund deemed it ‘not of sufficient interest’ to warrant funding and it was bought by a private buyer without its contents, all of which were auctioned off. Were it not for this exhibition, we would not see the (red) lips sofa, the champagne coupe lamps and the lobster telephone ("Dali thought both lobsters and telephones were sexy," says Kathryn) set up together as they were for Edward.
Beyond Monkton, Objects of Desire also tracks the trend and use of Surrealism into the present day, for it is far from over, as regular readers of House & Garden will know. Take, for example, Maison Colbert, the home of modern-day Surrealists Charlotte and Philip Colbert. In collaboration with Buchanan Studio, they created a bathtub studded with silicon boobs, a uterus-shaped and fallopian-tube accessorised headboard and a huge marble coffee table that is inlaid with a giant eye. The uterus is a repeat motif in Charlotte’s art (and she even wears a uterus-shaped pendant). Philip, famous for his work with the crustacean motif once favoured by Dali (he’s re-imagined lobsters as NFTs, on t-shirts, as sculptures, and now as a telephone, too), explains that he sees the creatures as “a momento mori. A profound symbol that time travels.” Charlotte and Philip have put some of the furniture and other items into production; a Fallopia Vase, a Lobster Lamp and the Atomic Marshmallow Bedside Table are all available to buy.
Regarding the awakening of interest, “it’s coming up for the 100th anniversary of the Surrealist Manifesto, but I think it’s also because there are parallels between the 1920s and the 2020s,” says Kathryn. The parallels aren’t particularly positive – Kathryn lists mirroring pandemics, as well as political and economic instability, “but we often find at such times that art and culture is particularly innovative and vibrant. I think that Surrealism was a response to chaos. It didn’t attempt to provide answers, instead it suggested we drop the pretence that we’re all elegant, rational, sensible beings, and celebrate the fact that we’re all a little bit crazy. It’s a creative embracing of chaos – which could be seen as oddly optimistic.” Certainly, explained in such a way, embracing Surrealism seems like one of the few positive gestures that can be made in an otherwise bleak landscape of strikes and a cost-of-living crisis – so why not go for it?
Indeed, Surrealism is not just an aesthetic, but an attitude: “It’s about giving free will to what’s going on in your head,” says Kathryn. It can just as well be employed as, say, a theme for entertaining, too. In 1972, Baroness Marie-Hélène van Zuylen van Nyevelt van de Haar and her husband (and third cousin) Guy de Rothschild threw their famous Surrealist ball. Invitations went out with the cryptic dress code “black tie, long dresses & Surrealist heads”, the instructions typed backwards so they had to be read in a mirror. Guests arrived to find the château literally ablaze with light and the servants and footmen dressed as cats, pawing at each other or pretending to be asleep. The dinner tables were decorated with taxidermic tortoises and plates covered in fur; the food was served on a mannequin corpse lain on a bed of roses. Should you be suffering retrospective FOMO right now, know that a Surrealist summer picnic is thrown at Farleys House, the former home of Surrealists Lee Miller and Roland Penrose every summer (being a ticketed event, you too can join the Surrealist throng).
It is notable, however, that upon examination of Farleys House's interiors, you will notice that they are considerably less surreal-seeming than those of Edward James's at Monkton. While the the well-preserved rooms of the Georgian farmhouse provide fascinating insight into their renowned inhabitants’ lives (as well as a wealth of interior ideas!), it is instead through unanticipated juxtaposition of, for example, ceramics by Picasso and a plastic King Kong that Surrealist ideals are upheld. The same goes for the house of Surrealist manifesto author André Breton’s surrounds, whose house can be viewed at the Design Museum exhibition through photographs.Ni
Much like the Surrealists of the past, there are few contemporary examples that compete with Edward at Monkton. While Nicky Haslam certainly embraces theatricality and the unexpected in his interiors (after attending a séance with Salvador Dali, Nicky laughingly recounted, “The medium was an old fraud, nothing happened!”), his chintz-wrapped covered columns are unequivocally exquisite, quite unlike the extremity of some of the recently designed exhibits at the Design Museum. Among other items is a hairbrush with hay instead of bristles by Najla El Zein, and a Teddy Bear chair by the Campana Brothers - which is where I draw my line. “I think it’s all the eyes,” agrees Kathryn. “When they’re all together it’s unnerving.” I’d also like to go on the record saying that the idea of walls covered in dog hair makes me feel physically ill – though I’m not averse to pink lips as a sofa, or to padded walls. In fact, if you devote some time to watching a rather charming 1978 documentary entitled The Secret Life of Edward James, you’ll hear him explain that the walls were thus conceived to keep the house “cosy and warm.” Beauty, repulsiveness, and practicality; Surrealism has got it all.
