Excerpt from: Frances Elkins: Interior Design

by Stephen M. Salny

Foreword by Albert Hadley

Imagine—in 1926—a room where a camelback sofa and some chairs were covered in peach-colored corduroy! That is a fair example of Frances Elkins’ “fearless use of bold color,” as Stephen Salny points out in this book. The subject here is one of the twentieth century’s most remarkable and avant-garde decorators.

Mr. Salny makes a great contribution, especially to the world of design and decoration, by documenting the work of Frances Elkins. He presents ravishingly beautiful photographs of a wide range of interiors that she created over the span of her illustrious professional career. The text records historically and in detail not only her philosophy and point of view, but also brings into focus her background, character, and colorful personality.

For those who have known and admired her contributions to the art of interior decoration only from afar, this book is a beautiful and exciting experience. One is reminded that Frances Elkins was a frontrunner in her profession—a decorator, perhaps ahead in the races.

Now, imagine the excitement when I, as a very young man in Nashville, Tennessee, saw the first photographs of the interiors of her beloved Casa Amesti as they appeared in House & Garden. The contents of such magazines played a big part in my design education at the time—beautiful rooms for supposedly beautiful people with, as our friend the late Diana Vreeland would term, “ghastly good taste.”

Nothing had been seen like the rooms at Casa Amesti before. That was an eye-opener for me. To this day, when I look at the photographs of those rooms in my scrapbook, I am equally impressed. They are timeless.

A while later when the interiors created by Frances Elkins for the Yerba Buena Club at the San Francisco Golden Gate Exposition in 1939 appeared in House & Garden—charmingly, in sketch form—I was dazzled. The imagination, the inventiveness, the drama, and the color and scope. It was modern—and it was beautiful. So you see, I feel that I am a qualified member of the Frances Elkins fan club. But wait—there’s more.

After graduating from the Parsons School of Design in New York in 1949, I was invited by Van Day Truex, who was director of the school at that time, to return to Parsons to teach, which I did. Each year the students in the graduating class were given a final assignment that was specific in detail and to be uniform in presentation. The works were duly displayed in the gallery and a committee made up of professional designers was invited to view them and determine which student or students were eligible for scholarships for summer courses at the school’s Paris branch.

Mr. Truex compiled the list of those to be invited to judge. During my second year on the faculty and because I knew that Mr. Truex was a great admirer of Mrs. Elkins, I thought, ah-ha!—this is my chance. I suggested that he consider Mrs. Elkins to be a judge. He did. She accepted. I was finally to meet Frances Elkins.

When Mr. Truex introduced me, needless to say, I was excited and enormously impressed. I was particularly impressed by how attentive she was to each of the projects on view and the interest she showed in the details. This was no game for her. This was business, and she was enjoying every moment.

As I watched her move about the gallery, I was quietly amused by her manner, her sense of authority and well-being. Even though she was short of stature—made more so by her sensible flat-heel slippers—she seemed a giantess. She wore a small pillbox hat, set well back, freeing her smooth round face. Her cheeks were lightly rouged and across her high forehead a luxurious fringe of spit curls gave focus to her sparkling and animated eyes. She was dynamite!

This book is a treasure. It is history at its best. It is entertaining and it provides lively fueling of inspiration for public and scholarly enrichment for generations to come.