My most recent blog entitled ‘Regency mainstream’ has begged a number of questions that basically boil down to ‘What’s the difference between Regency style and Empire style?’ This may spark controversy, but that they are hard to distinguish might perhaps be because they are often indistinguishable. Mind you, English joinery and French joinery are not the same, but forms, motifs, and surface decoration frequently are. And, Paris continued to be the style center, with one of the upshots of the cessation of the Wars of Napoleon that moneyed English, with demand pent up the result of nearly 20 years of intermittent hostility, flocked to Paris to buy whatever wasn’t nailed down. And enjoy the sites of what had become an imperial city. Not just the Arc de Triomphe, but the living spaces of the recently deposed Emperor and Empress were prime tourist destinations. Consequently, it is not surprising that English grandees, many of whom were made wealthy in the recent wars, then sought to emulate in their own domestic spaces an ostensibly Napoleonic aesthetic.
While direct commercial exchange may have been uncertain, intellectual exchange seems to have been more frequent. The designs of Thomas Hope published in 1807 heavily influenced those of Percier and Fontaine in their Recueil des décorations intérieures published in 1812. Ironically, this volume was then introduced into England with a popularity that at least temporarily eclipsed the influence of Hope, George Smith, and others. Well, we all know, then as now, if it is from Paris, it has to be better.
Fortune follows fashion, of course. The London merchant E H Baldock, amongst a number of others, did an extensive business in furniture that was in the French style, and Baldock most prominently had pieces made in France for the English market. The pair of boulle cabinets shown is an example. Interestingly, the Regency period found renewed interest in what became Anglicized as ‘buhl work’, and this sadly resulted in a number of earlier French pieces scavenged for their boulle and marquetry elements.




Things do go in and out of fashion and I suppose the fact that, for much of the last century, Brighton was a bargain day out for Londoners occludes its glory days. It’s still pleasantly seedy, as are most seaside resorts, but no where else is the Brighton Pavilion.
With an increase in funds with accession to the Regency, the now Prince Regent let imagination run wild. The forest of onion domes and minarets executed by John Nash, while lavish in their number were a bit less extreme in cost, built as they were of stucco over a wooden and iron frame. The vaguely Mughal exterior gives way to a riot of Chinoiserie, with the long gallery with walls and trim painted an astonishing pink, with a bamboo motif overlay in a blue-green.
The bamboo motif carries on with chairs and tables made of split bamboo. Even the staircase that leads to the upper floor carries on the bamboo motif, but in cast iron, faux painted to match the yellow color and ribbing of the furniture.
The effect of all of this is less of anything oriental than of exotic excess. Moreover, the design of the pavilion was even in its day not in the most fashionable taste, which tended more toward studied antiquarianism in the manner of Thomas Hope, who’s Household Furniture and Interior Decoration was published in 1807. It’s interesting to note that the interiors at the Royal Pavilion were realized by Crace and Company, whose more sober commissions included the interiors of Sir John Soane’s London residence. And, of course, with the accession of Victoria, sobriety became the order of the day. The Brighton Pavilion was sold by her to help pay for her decidedly more practical and domestic seaside home, Osborne House on the Isle of Wight.
The contrast with Windsor had political implications also, as the aesthetic came to represent the Whig modernity of the Prince’s allies, contrasted with George III’s Tory conservatism. Ironically, the Prince had to moderate his interest in all things French to avoid any political association with the excesses of the French Revolution. Although frequently at odds, the Prince of Wales and George III found common cause in support of the ancien regime.



