The Alchemy of Things

DON
CAMERON

HOUSE
OF
TABLEAUX

‘I approach interiors as scenography or a framing for a particular way of living. The process of creating a space that enables objects and scenarios to evolve supersedes that of ownership. Crafting tableaux on this continually evolving stage is a constant inspiration and fascination.’

Don Cameron

Don’s aesthetic range is crystallised in the vestibule. The portrait is by Louise-Maria Servaes and the 1930s wooden torso is unattributed.

Lights, by Magistretti, Lelli and G.C.M.E., add a sculptural element to the space.

A refined industrial wall unit by Vittorio Introini provides the backdrop to a voluptuous Soriana sofa set by Afra and Tobia Scarpa for B&B Italia. The Roberto Gabetti and Aimaro Isola rug, Tapileo, is from the Tapizoo series.

To those of you who have seen my previous book, Perfect Imperfect, Don Cameron will be a familiar figure. To originally stumble upon him and his remarkable aesthetic through the prism of Hotel Hotel in Canberra felt like a gift. We have become friends and we had lunch to discuss this book, the ideas behind it, and, to be honest, to see if anyone in his network in Australia or overseas would fit the bill. (They did – see Henk and Hubèrt). During the conversation he asked if I would consider revisiting his apartment. No, I said – too easily recognised, too many distinctive items, too much his essence. How wrong I was. We left it that he was revamping and I could reassess when complete, and here we are, and here it is.

I tend to keep things for a long time, so Don’s ability to, in his words, ‘shape-shift’ is astounding to me. Decoratively, he never stands still, his creative brain set to overdrive as he voyages into the world to seek out pieces that are as rare as they are diverse. Only in his oeuvre can a Gothic Christ and a cluster of Vico Magistretti Giunone lamps, a panel from an Angolan initiation hut and a 1970s tiled table by Roger Capron share the same space and, rather than seem at odds with one another, find visual connection.

Formerly a director of music videos and advertising films, Don equates his ability to constantly reinvent as the product of his experience. ‘It stems from my career as a director. After a project is awarded, you work very intensely and intuitively. During the process of making a video, you own every aspect: the set design, art direction, casting, styling, make-up, lighting, the camera movement, then the edit and final grade – everything. Once possessed in such a comprehensive way during its creation, to finish and let go is quite a natural consequence. By moving to the next project, there is a sense of things happening in a cycle.’ This is compounded, often by one project being radically different to the next, especially when segueing between the worlds of video and advertising.

He has managed to turn his curatorial and research-based interest in objects into a career, and so is able to pursue those elusive items he has an intense interest in. Don sets his own pace and, in turn, attracts those who understand his way of operating. ‘A rewarding aspect of dealing or working with designers, clients and collectors is that you can make narratives around how they live in an atmosphere of appreciation and trust. I find it a nice way to communicate – not just through words but through things.’

He is sanguine that the furniture, lighting and objects have had several lives, and owners, before him, and will have after; that he is but another period in their life – a foster carer waiting to place them in a more permanent home.

His travels, mainly in France, Italy and Belgium, result in the arrival of a new container annually, and with it comes an injection of stock that needs to be housed instantly. ‘To see the change, the dynamic of a room develop as new objects supersede the existing ones and another dialogue is developed, is fascinating.’ Tastes change, he acknowledges, and constantly researching and pushing the boundaries of his knowledge helps him retain an edge. ‘As with video, it is more interesting to have a hand in finding and creating new tastes and territories than emulating what is fashionable,’ he says.

Don’s sources are both generally known (the antiques fair in Parma and the Porte de Clignancourt markets in Paris are favourites), but his special finds come from people who operate outside the mainstream. Rather than rely on websites, he has developed a network of contacts he visits, dealers he talks to and relationships he builds, to peel back the obvious layers of what is on show to find something intriguing, half-hidden, underappreciated and not yet in the broader design consciousness.

A French abstract bronze sculpture, table with base by French artist Fred Brouard and modular ceramic screen by L’Oeuf Centre d’Études sit in tandem with a Songye Kifwebe female mask from the Congo.

Adjacent to the lean Vittorio Dassi sideboard are Gino Sarfatti 1073 floor lamps. A Sirrah wall lamp serves as a work of art.

Gianni Moscatelli dining chairs around the Jorge Zalszupin table are still waiting for their seat pads. The Flemish cabinet at the end of the table adds a macabre note.

By creating tableaux in his apartment gallery to present to clients, the pieces work in a domestic, relatable scale and show how a room full of different objects that range across eras and genres, with little obvious connection, can work together. ‘Tuning elements like stage props to create the best scenario means nothing remains static and I embrace moving things around as a way of living,’ says Don.

Lighting is a constant curiosity; its multitude of forms, how it exists in a space; how light is coerced to glow, radiate or reflect, depending on the elements and materials. As a video director he used light to create mood and atmosphere, but his interest went further. ‘I loved to place lights within frame and have the light source filmed, as it gave the work more integrity and made scenes more beautiful. I would lens the lights as if a character, a performer with a role,’ he says.

As for the objects themselves, he finds himself more and more drawn to things with a strong identity, pieces that can hold their own and are not necessarily reliant on other things around them to make them work. ‘I admire assertive, sculptural forms that can be seen not only as a functional object but as an aesthetic experience.’

The result is an apartment gallery of endless curiosity. While no two rooms are the same and are of differing character, they have a common signature, linked by their level of intensity, each a scene waiting to be inhabited. A study painted an immersive grey with ceiling, cornices and moulding details drenched in the same colour serves to frame the red velvet Italian armchairs, as much as complement the articulating P40 Lounge Chair by Osvaldo Borsani, giving a new reading to an unfashionable brown. The dining room, a deep olive green, takes on a sinister air with its 17^th century Flemish cabinet and 20^th century medical model. ‘When sourcing, I think in terms of compositions – casting objects and creating tableaux of varying scale. I see the inter-relationship of objects and the space between as a constant creative source.’

Sometimes acquisitions, rather than coming his way, are ones he seeks out – for clients or the gallery. Having seen a sequence from a Seventies Italian film with two Massimo Vignelli Saratoga sofas, he set out to find them. ‘They conjure a mood between decadence and glamour and can live within a room, away from the walls. The combination of gloss lacquer framing and heavy patina to the upholstery is exquisite.’

One of the most painstakingly considered and quietly beautiful aspects of the apartment is the vestibule. It is a centrally placed space from where there is visual access to the study, dining room and living room, and where Don’s aesthetic range is somehow crystallised. Apart from the Mangiarotti M1 table that grounds the composition, the room is a collection of unknown or unattributed works. The portrait is by a Dutch potter turned artist; the monolithic sculptures hint of the American artist Louise Nevelson, but were sourced from a collector in Milan; the female torso has the sensuality and skill of Rodin but is an unattributed work from the 1930s; and the extraordinary ceiling grid is reminiscent of Niemeyer’s Senate in Brasilia but is, in fact, a ceiling taken from a bank in Brussels. ‘The kinetic articulating metal elements in combination with the more patchy, painterly diffused light produces an extraordinary emotional effect.’

The Italian club chairs and Belgian ceramic side table introduce punches of colour within the mouse grey surrounds. While the artist of the painting is unknown, the sculpture in the alcove is by Lino Tiné.

Don draws unlikely connections – the Osvaldo Borsani armchair sits quite naturally beside the panels from an Angolan initiation hut.

The Portuguese Gothic spindle bed and Victor Cerrato ceramic table make comfortable bedfellows.