Designing space for the wealthy is never easy, finds Kishore Singh, and all because no one knows how to frame a brief.
Ever wondered about the kind of brief to give to an interior designer for a home — first, or second, or one of several? Of what you might want in it? Of what it might suggest of you? Of whether it, like Englishmen, will be your castle — or a designer’s commission-based fantasy?
Many of us think arcanely, we want a say in how we wish to live (which is, of course, as it should be), but without being conscious of it we also indicate the things we’ve liked — the gazebo in a colleague’s house, a piece of furniture that a friend owns, the carpet collection at an associate’s house that might have inspired you. Put these together and you will likely have a disaster. In any case, many of those who choose to keep a designer out and insist on doing everything themselves might end up wondering why their living spaces don’t look as good as similar spaces in their friends’ homes.
“There are two reasons why people want to keep us away,” laughs an interior designer, “because we’re expensive, and because we refuse to follow instructions.” But on the other hand, “There are two reasons why people want us,” she points out, “because they’re too busy, and because they’re unfocussed about their needs.” The designer — let’s say she’s quite popular in the capital — has some suggestions: “Don’t fight the need for a designer, you’ll need one to help you crystallise your thoughts,” she says. But if you’re uncomfortable with the idea, “Don’t succumb to giving up the whole home, but get the basic bones done by one, and you’ll notice the clarity it’ll generate in what you hope to achieve.”
That’s good advice, provided you stick with it. “The whole point,” Sanjay Anand says, “is that you want to achieve something you’re most comfortable with.” Anand, a Bangalore-based consultant, points out that the easiest home-owners to deal with are those who’re passionate about their hobbies — “so you’ll know if they want a tennis court, or swimming pool, or music room, or gym” — or those who like collecting things — “so you know they will need space to display their sculpture, or racks for their library, or walls and lighting for their art”.
It’s easier when you want to take the do-it-yourself approach when you’re a collector of some kind. Not too many wealthy Indians are maverick (and confident) enough to create fun elements, such as parking an old Lambretta scooter, for instance, in the entrance hall, the whole sand-blasted, or nickel-coated, for effect; or a pile of woks, or milk pails — unless they’ve been endorsed by Subodh Gupta, in which case it’ll cost as much if not more than the house itself, and you can definitely afford a designer. It’s the reason why most art collectors have it easier — you expect a Malvinder Singh to employ the spaces to show off his canvases, just as you would expect fashion designers like Rohit Bal or Abraham & Thakore to use the space to show off their ingenuity. It’s one reason why it should be amusing to see how various fashion designers will react to the rooms and suites they have been asked to design for Hotel Samrat in the capital.
Equally, it’s a challenge when you own different homes and are a frequent globetrotter, to define the kind of personal space you cherish. You don’t want it to resemble a hotel suite — you see too many of those anyway — and perhaps you don’t want to follow trends that are, at best, ephemeral. It’s one reason why, with the exception of Lekha Poddar’s house in New Delhi, I have never seen a house with minimalistic pretensions — and in Poddar’s case, it is more straight lines than minimalism anyway: her art collection is too huge and too commanding to be wished away to the whims of a passing fad.
Most Indian millionaires choose to reflect a feeling of warmth, something that radiates on account of their choice of furniture, furnishings and their display of collectibles or art. Take Vijay Mallya, businessman and politician, who has homes across different continents and varied interests. His Delhi home, therefore, reflects his globetrotting personality, with a strong Moorish theme made resplendent with rich drapes and textures, perhaps out of a desire to create an impact in Delhi’s social circles where farmhouses are known for their plush elegance. Elsewhere, his homes have different themes — a countryside hunting lodge, a city penthouse…and in Mumbai, his bevy of yachts with their teak and polished brass, where he can play jolly captain of his fleet.
Few Indian millionaires are as flamboyant as Mallya — though there are lots of wannabe aspirants — and while a few might appear inclined to the trappings of power with leather chesterfields and wood-panelled walls with baize-fitted writing tables, most are likely to settle for a mix of public/private spaces that suit their temperament rather than merely impress their visitors. Naturally, there is considerable speculation about the powerhouse that Mukesh Ambani is building for himself in Mumbai, and though the Net has been abuzz with pictures purportedly of his new house Antilla, nobody but the family and the designers have a clue about the interiors. Ambani himself is noted for his simple taste in clothes and food, by which indication he might insist on a level of simplicity inside. But which man builds a 27-floor-high home for himself, or buys a jet for his wife as a birthday present, and can still file a claim for simplicity?
Yet, insists the Delhi-based designer, families such as the Ambanis are the best clients to have, and no, not for their wealth (alone), but because having decided on something, they will likely not interfere too much in the progress of their (and their designer’s) vision. Imagine, she asks, having a filmstar — Shah Rukh? — for a client. “They hyperventilate, they change, they’re dramatic, they’re confused, and like a Bollywood movie, they want everything altogether,” she says, insisting she knows because she’s barely scraped through a few Mumbai commissions, but vows never to do them again.
The best clients? Maybe it isn’t politically correct to refer to a community as such, but the designer says the Marwaris are by far the best. “They’re wealthy but understated, they’ve travelled around the world but never let it show, yet they have a great deal of respect for your ideas, and if they’ve agreed on something, they will let you do it without once querying anything. And oh, they like a sense of space, so you won’t find them crowding too much in too little space.”
Understated elegance, or posh pretensions — how’s that by way of a working brief, when you need to hire yourself a designer?
