My mom, Patricia Richesin, in the Fortuny showroom studying the fabrics

While in Venice we had an invitation from Fortuny to visit their facility on the island of Giudecca.  A vaporetta ride, and we were there.  The factory is housed in an old brick building, right on the Giudecca canal.  The only hint at what awaits inside are the letters spelling the family name across the top of the building.  The showroom is located on the property of the factory, and has recently been completely re-designed by Barry Dixon.  We were met by Giuseppe Ianno, the manager of the facility.

The retail portion of the Fortunty with the walls upholstered in their fabrics

The showroom is truly breathtaking.  To see the beautiful Fortuny fabrics used so lavishly was a real treat.  For those of you who aren’t familiar with the product; Fortuny is a hand printed cotton fabric, typically with a soft metallic design in either gold or silver applied over the printed cotton.  Sounds a little glitzy for most folks, but the reality is that it is not.  The fabrics are beautiful and can be as subtle or as powerful as you want, depending on the combination of colors.  Oh, forgot to mention that they can also be customized, so it is possible to get the exact design that you want, in exactly the color combination that you want.  They only use the finest cotton, and at first glance, you would think the fabrics were printed on silk because of the luminous sheen. 

Wings of luxurious fabrics, and bolts in the background

Detail of the lavish drapery. The border was quilted.

A blue and green color scheme was used in the showroom to reinforce the “water” theme of the Venice location.  Many folds were in the drapery panels to compliment the “waves” in the water beyond.  The draperies were one of my favorite things.  The border was quilted, and the draperies had Fortuny lining fabric “tied” to the face fabric.  It was a beautiful detail.  Also in the showroom were the new range of Fortuny Murano glass lamps, as well as address and note books bound with their stunning fabrics.

The new range of Fortuny lamps, which have illuminated bases

The lavish draperies facing the Giudecca canal and a Venetian mirror with Fortuny fabric behind the glass

We had the opportunity to tour the garden on the property after we were finished in the showroom.  I’ve been to lots of factories over the years, and never have seen a beautiful garden associated with one.  The garden was lovely, and covered in roses in full bloom.  There is also a swimming pool on the party where the Countess who formerly owned the company entertained.  It is one of only a handful of swimming pools in Venice, where they are currently banned since they do not fit in with the historic accuracy of the city.

The garden with rose covered trellises

Another garden view

The factory pool, complete with changing rooms. The rooms have fully mirrored back walls which make the pavillion seem open to the space beyond.

As we walked back toward the Vaporetta to return us to Venice, we passed the bookbinding studio where the address books covered in Fortunty fabrics were made.  The gentleman producing these was so proud of his craft, and really did an incredible job.  It was an awesome experience and made for a memorable day in Venice.

Binding books with Fortuny fabrics

Applying the glue that binds the books

A friend of mine shared this New York Times article and slide show with me today. Zach Motl follows some of my design philosophy which breaks conventional thought about space planning.  Zach also has a great color sense.

A Roomy 178 Square Feet

By: Penelope Green

Published: February 10, 2010

Robert Wright for The New York Times

But Mr. Motl, 25, has made the most of this studio apartment in Clinton Hill, Brooklyn, which he rents for $944 a month, and has outfitted for about $2,500 in the three years since he moved to New York City. He has hewed to the old decorating dictum that says the more stuff you put in a room (albeit artfully arranged stuff), the bigger it seems. More really is more.

Mr. Motl, a theater major who also studied sculpture at the State University of New York at Geneseo, had planned to pursue a career in acting after graduating in 2007. Like so many before him, he had been testing the waters in New York City during his summers off from school, cobbling together a living and a career path by doing two or three jobs at a time, along with a handful of internships: waiting tables in Bellport, N.Y., his hometown, and in Brooklyn; teaching sailing at yacht clubs up and down Long Island; interning at P.S. 122 in New York, and for Miles Redd, the maximalist designer.

Pretty quickly, Mr. Motl began to realize he would much rather work in interior design than the theater. “Not that I knew anything about it,” he said. “I thought ikat” — a trendy textile — “was a piece of furniture.”

Still, he is an innately stylish guy. “I always knew what I liked and what I didn’t like,” he said.

And he has a sailor’s sense of thrift and handiness that has served him well in his new profession, and at home. When he moved into this apartment, a grubby white box, he removed all the window panes, scraped them clean and reattached each one so they wouldn’t bang or let the cold in (he keeps them sparkling clean).

He also chipped the mirrored tiles off the bathroom walls — “That’s when the love affair with my downstairs neighbor began,” he said dryly — and painted the room midnight blue. He built task lights with a steampunk aesthetic out of components he found at Canal Lighting for less than $200; he also put together a milk-glass shade ($12 on eBay), an Edison bulb ($18 at Canal Lighting) and an electric cord to make the fixture that hangs atmospherically over the beadboard breakfast counter/front hall table/cabinet he built himself.

Mr. Motl knows how to arrange furniture in groupings — an office “area,” sitting “room,” “bedroom” and so forth are clearly defined (though only a few inches apart). And he knows how to hit the sweet spot that turns a bunch of objects — like stacks of National Geographic magazines — into a collection, and how to array those objects so they look sculptural, instead of like a sign that he might be a candidate for A&E’s “Hoarders.”

Mr. Motl has been “collecting” since the age of 5 or 6, picking things up from the curb for his room, visiting yard sales when he had his own money. He recalled being kicked out of an antiques store at age 10, because the proprietor thought he was in there to steal something. “I remember, after running to my mother in tears from the confrontation,” Mr. Motl said, that the store owner defended herself “by saying, ‘What interest would a 10-year-old have in antiques?’ ”

When a professor at school culled his library of ’40s and ’50s Penguin paperbacks — mostly theater titles — Mr. Motl scooped them up. They’re jammed together on the shelf above his bed, books being one of the many multiples Mr. Motl has filled this tiny space with.

Wooden tennis rackets hang on the walls. “I bought one at an antiques store,” he said, “and then felt like an idiot because I kept finding them on the street.”

The blue Marc Jacobs Wellington boots were purchased on sale for $10.

Does he ever wear them?

“No, they’re just there.”

By November of 2008, Mr. Motl wanted just one (full-time) job. He was still waiting tables to support himself while he worked part time for Mr. Redd. A friend showed him a posting on Craigslist by Robert Couturier & Associates, the upscale architecture and design firm.

The ad was for a junior designer, with three years’ experience and knowledge of AutoCAD, the computer drafting program. Mr. Motl didn’t meet either of those requirements, but he did have pictures of this apartment. He got the job

Robert Wright for The New York Times