10 Minutes With: Paige Rense

During a stay in Charleston, Architectural Digest’s iconic editor-in-chief shares her thoughts on everything from historic architecture and livability to her own coastal digs

 

 

Architectural Digest’s most recent anthology, edited by Rense

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I love this area, and I particularly like showing houses from the South. It’s traditional, warm, and very real,” says Paige Rense, in town to promote her latest book, Private Views: Inside the World’s Greatest Homes (Abrams, 2007).


And who better to opine on the subject? The renowned magazine exec is credited with raising Architectural Digest up from small-time shelter publication to commanding presence in the international design community. Rense joined the then-three-person editorial staff in 1970—“We didn’t even have a photography budget back then,” she laughs. “I had to convince designers to commission their own photos and send them in.”


But much has changed, as she’s since published such coveted digs as Truman Capote’s house in Bridgehampton, David Bowie’s soulful retreat on the island of Mustique in the West Indies, and Ronald and Nancy Reagan’s White House residence, circa 1981.


During her brief stay this spring, the style maven sat down with Charleston Home editor Ellen McGauley to chat about all things related to house and home, before heading off to the William Aiken House to deliver the keynote speech to attendees of the annual Design Leadership Summit, held here in the Lowcountry. Here are some excerpts from their conversation:

 

EM: As you know, historic architecture is the foundation of our downtown cityscape. What wisdom would you offer for adapting updated design principles?


PR: The homeowner is the one who is going to live there, so as long as they’re not destroying the structure, my advice is to mix things up. It’s not very interesting to have too much of one thing. It’s much more interesting when you blend pieces. Just know that good things go together.

 

EM: How important to you is livability in  architectural and interior design?


PR: I think it’s more important than anything. No one should do a house or apartment with the idea of getting into a magazine. That doesn’t make sense. This was the difficulty years ago with major architects and designers who would impose their own ideals on the homeowner. They don’t do that anymore. After all, they’re not going to be the one who has to live there.

 

EM: How do you select houses for Architectural Digest?


PR: I don’t look for any one thing, you know. We get roughly 3,000 submissions each year—some are simple snapshots of rooms, others much more elaborate—and I look at every single residence that comes through. I trust my eye. When I see it, I know immediately. The house just speaks.

 

EM: Finding a great house and capturing it in a true way are often two different things. Is there any one principle you abide by to ensure your magazine reflects each house authentically?


PR: Absolutely. No stylists, no producers, no editors at the photo shoot. I heard of one magazine that sent four people to Paris to photograph a chair. Four people. One chair. I couldn’t believe it.

 

EM: So you aren’t present on photo shoots?


PR: I’ve only been on shoots three or four times in my career. I’ve found that if I’m there, the whole dynamic changes. I want the reader to see the house through the photographer’s eye, not anyone else’s.

 

EM: Is there something you wish homeowners or designers would do more of?


PR: I’d have to say that if anything, I wish they’d do less. Because between too much and too little, I’ll take the latter. I think back to when pattern on top of pattern was very popular, and I remember waiting anxiously for that to pass. It was just too much.

 

EM: As for your approach to your own house, do you have one or two rooms that always make you happy?


PR: Really, my entire house makes me happy. It’s an old sea captain’s house in Maine that a group of Buddhists once occupied. I try to keep the rooms rather subdued, as doing a magazine can be pretty intense. If I were to choose one room, I’d say my bedroom is probably my favorite place to be. I can watch the lobster boats and sailboats pass—it’s serenity, but I also get to see the action.