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‘Quite an Emporium of Charming Souvenirs’

May 21, 2013

Step behind the scenes of our Heritage video

It’s Smythson’s 125th anniversary, and the new heritage video takes pride of place in our series of celebratory films launched in September. Delving deep into the heart of the brand’s long and storied legacy, this piece called for something more eccentric, more eclectic, something altogether more intimate.

Rendered in director Virgilio Villoresi’s distinctive and evocative style, the film brings pieces from our archive collection to animated life using a series of techniques that trace the evolution of motion picture; from the quaint effect of the ‘zoetrope’ in the 1800s all the way up to a modern-day 3D sequence. It travels through twelve decades of Smythson’s story, bringing an enchanting lightness of touch to the journey.

Villoresi was born in Fiesole, in the province of Florence, on November 10th 1979. After falling in love with cinema at the age of 10, a life ambition was born.

‘I would scavenge for video tapes in various libraries and take them home to watch alone’ recalls the 30 year old. ‘My studies were actually of no use whatsoever. My real school consisted simply of watching, avidly, through the eyes of someone eager to learn.’

From an early age he became interested in experimental cinema and soon began to make a series of animated collages following the example of the Polish animators of the 1950s.

‘My work recreates a reality that doesn’t exist…a reality whose surface is covered in soap, where inanimate objects come to life and keep slipping, always sliding…

You don’t need to explain anything to a child. In fact, I would explain to an adult to watch my films through the eyes of a child.’

When asked what century he would want to live in, he replied ‘All of them, except this one’.

‘My creative philosophy comes from the concept of abandonment. I communicate my memory … memory filtered through imagination, to preserve a sense of childlike innocence. My approach to the art of cinema is all about relaying a state of suspension – between childhood and adolescence, waking and dreaming. I want to give the viewer a sense of being asleep, like an afternoon nap, so to speak.
I’m fascinated by states of consciousness like catalepsy or somnambulism, where it’s possible to inhabit the space between dream and reality. I try to recreate the movement of that dimension in my films.’

‘I have a similar sensation myself as I work; I believe that everything happens in my absence.
I’ll explain better: As I’m working I have a feeling of being possessed by some presence …so, ironically, there’s a distinct awareness of my absence throughout the creative process. It’s like being led by someone I don’t know.’

Why were you so excited to get involved with Smythson?

‘I think Smythson products have the same mood of my poetic imagination. The importance of hand-made things is also a value that we share, and craftsmanship is obviously such an important theme for this video. I loved working with the archive collection – my favourite piece was definitely the miniature doll’s house.’

And there is something about his style that transports you, indulging an irresistibly child-like immersion in a world of miniatures.

Where did you get the idea for the heritage video?

‘I was inspired by the history of optical effects and wanted to create a parallel with the history of the brand. Taking a journey through the evolution of ‘pre-cinema’ seemed to be such a perfect fit for the particular beauty and heritage of this iconic brand. It’s like a symphony where the notes are the colours and silences the distance between the objects.

The first practical step was to get my head around the task of representing the brand’s history from the end of 1800s up to the present day. So I spent quite a lot of time at flea markets rummaging through dusty old magazines from each decade in question. Between that and the valuable styling input from Vivì Bridges, the aesthetic of the video was born.
Next, my team and I transformed each Smythson product into a pre-cinematic instrument, and everything came together to create a sort of animated ballet.’

What, or who is your biggest inspiration?

‘Honestly, everything I really love. You find inspiration everywhere…all you have to do is look at the world with sincerity and honesty.’

Finally, what does Smythson mean to you?

‘To me, Smythson means elegance and inspiration.’

www.virgiliovilloresi.com

Technology through the Pages

March 11, 2013

What is communication? It stems from community, communion, comprehension. A coming together, a shared experience. It bridges distances – personal, geographical, cultural, political. It is humanity’s most innate instinct and society’s most powerful tool.

Of course, it all began with the humble (but mighty) pen. Next followed the printing press, and then, in 1838, a man called Samuel Morse invented the first electrical telegraph.

Telegram sent to Frank Smythson by a customer in 1915 and a Smythson Unicode telegraph book, 1909

On the 24th of May 1844, the very first telegram was sent from Washington D.C to Baltimore, bearing the message:

‘What hath God wrought?’

What hath he wrought indeed.

When technology began to take the world by storm, speed became the new currency. The distances it bridged grew ever broader, until the notion of communication became abridged to the universal ‘.com’ of the Internet era. Gone were the days of lingering over long-awaited letters. The world seemed to shrink, and with it, some would argue, so did some of the long-held values of social interaction.

Smythson telegram pad and leather case from a 1902 catalogue, and iPad cases from the Spring Summer 2013 collection

Society’s relationship with technology has always been conflicted. The opportunities and benefits it brought were immeasurable – but somewhere along the line, the art of communication appeared to lose its way.

Language itself suffers terribly at the hands of the digital age. We seem to have landed ourselves in some
post-apocalyptic world of dismembered words, a dismal wasteland strewn with acronyms.

OMG, LOL…CBA.

What has become of a society that replaces the act of laughing with a monosyllabic substitute that has all the spontaneous eloquence of a lobotomised mollusc? Hard to be sure whether ‘lol’ even qualifies as a syllable. Somewhere, Shakespeare is turning in his grave at the fact that ‘ROTFL’ is used as verb. Not to mention the king of lexical cringe: YOLO. (For those of you fortunate enough not to be familiar with this, it stands for ’You Only Live Once’). Because God forbid we should waste precious seconds of said life going to the trouble of actually pronouncing words. Alas, the age of antisocial media is upon us.
Even more bemusingly, there is apparently such a thing as the ’American Association Against Acronym Abuse’ or ‘AAAAA.’ One can only hope there’s a 12 step program for that – and yes, the first step is admitting we have a problem.

Graphic designer Jean Jullien’s exhibition 'Allo?' at the Kemistry gallery in east London looks at how today’s technology affects the way we interact and communicate with each other.

It’s not all bad news though – art comes in many weird and wonderful new forms. What kind of world would it be, after all, without silk-shirted Koreans pony-trotting their way exuberantly across our screens?
Doesn’t bear thinking about.

In fact, the modern world’s most life-changing invention was born from what many claim is the highest art form of all: music.

On the 3rd of March 1847, Alexander Graham Bell was born in Edinburgh to a deaf mother and a father who taught elocution and speech correction. Fascinated by acoustics from a young age, he learned to translate conversations to his mother by tapping code onto her arm, a technique very similar to the dot-and-dash system invented by Morse ten years earlier.
Bell had a passion for the piano, and his mother used to enjoy sitting for hours with him, holding her hand to the instrument to feel its vibrations as he played. Driven to uncover the source and mechanisms of the music, he lifted the lid of his piano one day to discover that the sound was being produced by the vibration of multiple wires. That moment marked the beginning of his life’s work.

At the age of 29, Bell presented a musical or ‘harmonic’ approach as a possible development of the telegraph – inspired by the idea of transmitting sound across a wire; of being able to ‘talk with electricity.’

It was exactly 137 years ago today that he made his historic breakthrough and the telephone was born. Bell’s
notebook entry of the 10th of March 1876 describes that seminal moment, as he spoke through the instrument to his assistant in the next room and uttered the famous first words:

‘Mr Watson – come here – I want to see you.’

Alexander Bell’s notebook, diary entry of March 10th 1876

Communication was the cornerstone of Frank Smythson’s venture when he first opened his doors to the world in 1887. The importance of it lived and breathed in every personalised card he printed, every gift he wrapped.

Smythson catalogue from 1912, featuring Frank's handwriting

Frank was himself a remarkable innovator. In 1908 he created his iconic Featherweight Panama Diary, which contained the thinnest paper ever produced that could be written on in ink without bleeding. Though many have tried to recreate it, Frank’s Featherweight paper still remains unmatched by any other. Designed to be ‘carried inside a gentleman’s breast pocket without causing the least disfigurement’, the Panama was the world’s first practical, portable diary. It was, in many ways, the iPad of its time.

1908 Panama diary from the Smythson archives

The diary remains virtually unchanged to this day, and its unfaltering popularity amid our extensive range of technology accessories is perhaps a promising portent of the enduring permanence of penmanship.

On that note, G2G. BFN, BS.

(Just to clarify, FYI, that last one stands for ‘Back Soon.’)

Mum’s the Word…

March 5, 2013

Mother Nature. Mother tongue. Mother lode. Motherland. Motherhood.

Mother: A word deeply rooted in the notion of origins, of the fundamental, the universal things. A word that in itself embraces the ‘other’. It’s the very embodiment of altruism.

The history (or rather herstory) of Mother’s Day can be traced back as far as the 6th century BC, to an Anatolian deity called Cybele. She represented nature, fruitfulness and fertility, and was known as the Mother Goddess. Her cult following spread from Asia Minor to Greece and eventually to Rome, where she was rechristened Magna Mater, or ‘Great Mother’.

The Ancient Romans celebrated her with an annual Spring Festival, in which food and flowers were exchanged at dawn.

An ancient precursor to today’s tradition of daffodils and breakfast in bed, perhaps?

Smythson greeting card, 1912

It wasn’t all roses for womankind though. Industrial war arrived to wreak its wreckage, taking so many young lives with it, and the first feminists began to fly their flags in protest. Not quite the bra-burning breed mind you, those didn’t come onto the scene until about 100 years later.

These women wanted peace, but they weren’t afraid to fight for it.

Think somewhere between Mother Theresa and Madonna (as in Like a Virgin, not the Virgin Mother).

In 1870, a poet and social activist called Julia Ward Howe penned the Mothers’ Day Proclamation, an appeal to all women to join in protest against the carnage of the Civil War. It was a rallying call for peace, unity and disarmament.

Meanwhile, another woman was devoting herself to a similar cause. Founder of the Mother’s Day Work Clubs, Ann Jarvis made it her life’s mission to improve health conditions in her community. When the war broke out she made the ultimate peaceful pledge and declared neutrality, providing aid to soldiers in both camps.

After her death in 1905, It was in her honour that her daughter put Mother’s Day on the map for the first time.

Ann Jarvis with her daughter Anna, and a bespoke Smythson card commissioned by a Ms. Edith Hayhurst in 1907 for her mother

On May 12th 1907, Anna Marie Jarvis held a memorial service for her mother, handing out flowers and urging children to hand-write personal notes to their own mothers.

It was she who shifted the collective notion of ‘Mothers’ Day’ to the more personal ‘Mother’s Day’ as we all know it today.

But the power of that little apostrophe proved fatefully counteractive, when much to her dismay, the tradition quickly spread and become a major commercial event.

‘I wanted it to be a day of sentiment, not profit.

A printed card means nothing except that you are too lazy to write to the woman who has done more for you than anyone in the world. And candy! You take a box to Mother – and then eat most of it yourself. A pretty sentiment. This is the paradox of my life. My greatest success is also my greatest defeat.’

Jarvis spent the rest of her life protesting against the holiday she had created. She actually filed a law suit in 1923 to stop a mother’s day festival – and, ironically, she was arrested for disturbing the peace.

Despite her best efforts, the day remains a firm fixture in calendars across the world. You can’t really find fault with her dedication to a higher cause, but most mothers today are likely to give you short shrift should you choose to share it.

Now, where’s that box of chocolates….

Happy Mother’s Day!

Smythson greeting card from 1911, and a Mother's Day card from our current collection

A Purist’s Touch: Spring Summer 2013

February 18, 2013

Smythson’s Spring Summer 2013 collections draw inspiration from the soft, fresh hues of the Cornish coastline, whose ever-changing moods of earth, sea and sky have historically been both home and muse to so many iconic British artists.

Smythson Spring Summer collections. Clockwise from top: small Eliot pouch, Chameleon sunglasses case, envelope iPad clutch, ‘Make it Happen’ Chameleon Panama notebook.

Among the most influential were Barbara Hepworth and Ben Nicholson, members of the small colony of artists in St Ives that became as important as Paris or London during the golden creative period between the 1920s and 1960s. They became pioneers of the radical abstract art movement in Britain.

On holiday in 1931: (left to right) Ivon Hitchens, Irina Moore, Henry Moore, Barbara Hepworth, Ben Nicholson and Mary Jenkins.

Barbara Hepworth, 1964 and Ben Nicholson, 1935

Both were celebrated for their ability to synthesise organic form, light and colour from nature to produce compositions of extraordinary elegance and clarity.

Barbara Hepworth ‘Pendour’ (1947-8)

Ben Nicholson’s work typically features cool, harmonious colours, subtle textures and precise shapes.

Nicholson first visited Cornwall in 1928, after moving in the Parisian art scene and mixing with the likes of Mondrian and Picasso. During this visit to St Ives, he chanced upon a local fisherman called Alfred Wallis painting in his home.

Wallis meets Ben Nicholson; a defining moment captured by Christopher Wood in 1928.

Nicholson was struck by the ‘naïve’ purity of the pieces he saw, and found in them an authentic freshness and immediacy which he aspired to in his own work:

‘There is a formidable organisation, a rhythm in which the movement of the whole landscape leads up to a decisive purpose. His imagination is surely a lovely thing – it is something which has grown out of the Cornish earth and sea, and which will endure.’
- Ben Nicholson, ‘Alfred Wallis’, Horizon Vol. VII, No. 37, 1943

Alfred Wallis 'The Blue Ship' (circa 1934)

Smythson greetings cards found in the archives 1909, 1898

Sunset over St Ives Bay

Wallis’ paintings spoke directly to Nicholson’s desire for a ‘truthful and fresh way of conveying reality’. His move towards abstraction saw a developing interest in texture as well as contour, adding a note of sensory depth to the clean lines and absence of ornament in his work.

Ben Nicholson (1934 – 1941)

Smythson embraces this philosophy with a new take on our classic collections. Pared back to a pure, more abstract form, our handbags are distilled to the original essence of their design. A palette of Prussian blue, dove grey and white is coupled with the crisp contrast of clementine, lifting the natural tones of the Cornish
land- and seascape.

We visited the Tate Modern to get a taste of the artistic movement Hepworth and Nicholson helped to define. One of the gallery’s five iconic core collections, Structure and Clarity traces the development of abstract art from the 1920s – a revolutionary new vision shaped by the geometrical laws of architecture, characterised by measured restraint and uniformity.

Smythson Chameleon tote in white, Spring Summer collection

Piet Mondrian 'Composition C (No. III) with Red, Yellow and Blue' (1935): At the heart of the exhibition stood a room holding Hepworth and Nicholson’s work. A beautiful counterpoint to the angular paintings that hung on the walls, Hepworth’s gentle sculptures bloomed voluptuously across the floor of the room, an elegant reminder of geometry’s softer landscapes.

Barbara Hepworth 'Elegy III' (1966) and 'Pierced Hemisphere II' (1937-8)

Winifred Nicholson (Nicholson’s first wife) 'Quarante Huit Quai d'Auteuil' (1935)

Smythson Spring Summer Eliot collection. Clockwise from top: large slim purse, python manuscript sleeve, large tote, medium pouch.

Discover our exclusive new online catalogue for Spring Summer 2013

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A Brief History of Valentine’s Day

February 5, 2013

Valentine’s Day: a time of year surrounded by expectation and charged with anticipation – or for many, something more like trepidation. Not surprising really, given the overwhelming task of squeezing the measure of a relationship into a single day, a gift, or a few carefully composed words that always seem to fall just a little shy of the mark, teetering precariously on the brink of cliché.

So where did it all begin?

Miniature Smythson Valentine’s card, 1906.

Far from the floral onslaught of windows awash with shades of pink.

In fact, romance originally had very little to do with it at all. Think Pagan rituals, animal sacrifices and (consensual) flagellation.

Every year between the 13th and 15th of February, the ancient Romans used to hold a festival called Lupercalia, which saw naked young noblemen presiding over the ritual sacrifice of a goat. The hides were then used to whip young women as the procession passed through the city, a practice that was believed to enhance fertility. Fifty shades of passé, as history would have it.

Then, in around 270 AD, a man called Valentine arrived to rock the boat with his religion and newfangled notions of monogamy. History has shrouded some of his life in mystery – some believe he was a priest, others claim he was a doctor – but it was his Christianity that ultimately got him into trouble. At the time, emperor Claudius II persecuted followers of the Christian faith and banished young men from marrying, as he thought it would hamper their performance as soldiers. Valentine refused to give up his beliefs and continued to secretly conduct marriage ceremonies for young lovers. He was eventually discovered and sentenced to death.

During his imprisonment, he befriended his jailor’s daughter Julia, and (whether by miracle or medicine) is said to have cured her blindness. Before his execution on the 14th of February, he left her a written farewell, signed ‘from your Valentine’.

This 1940s personalised Mignon diary was discovered in the Smythson archives among a collection of Valentine’s cards and gifts. A coincidence perhaps, but we thought it fitting that its cover was gold-stamped with the name of the girl who gave rise to the celebration of Valentine’s Day.

It was the English poet Geoffrey Chaucer who first brought romantic love into the equation. His 1382 poem Parlement of Foules is the earliest recorded text to make a direct reference to Valentine’s Day:

For this was on seynt Volantynys day
Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese his make

For this was on Saint Valentine’s Day
When every bird cometh here to choose his mate

Smythson Valentine’s card from 1903: ‘A sign of love’. Frank used the image of the swan, famous for its monogamous mating habits, as a clever play on words. ‘Signe’ (sign) and ‘cygne’ (swan) bear the same pronunciation in French. This is one of the earliest cards in the Smythson archives.

The image of the love birds has since become an iconic symbol of love, universally associated with Valentine’s day.

A selection of lovebird motifs from our past and present collections.

The oldest surviving Valentine’s card in existence dates back to 1415 and can be found on display in the British Library. It was written by Charles, Duke of Orleans to his wife while he was being held in the Tower of London following his capture at the battle of Agincourt. The poem begins:

Je suis desja d’amour tanné,
Ma tres doulce Valentinée

I am already sick with love,
My very gentle Valentine

These Smythson Valentine’s cards are a beautiful example of the time-honoured craftsmanship that still goes into the creation of our stationery today. Dating from 1905 to 1912, each piece boasts intricate techniques including plate-marking, embossing and diestamping. Visit the Valentine’s archive exhibitions in our New Bond Street and Sloane Street stores to see them first-hand in all their exquisite detail.

Nothing like a colourful cocktail of Pagans, prisons and poetry to bring a fresh perspective to the occasion – but if you prefer a little less carnage and a bit more vintage with your Valentine, then perhaps the Smythson Valentine’s Day exhibition might provide some inspiration.

The Cult of Beauty: An Extraordinary Era – Behind the Scenes of the Autumn/Winter collections

August 6, 2012

‘Autumn/Winter is a season dripping with lush colour and lavish detail’ –British Vogue

Edwardian opulence meets modern edge as Smythson steps into the new season with a powerful palette of earthy, olive tones, coupled with bursts of violet or crimson. Colours are deep, textures rich, and design indulges every detail. As our collections slip into their autumnal hues, their styles shift to mix and match your every move and mood. Go all-in with a capacious Cooper tote in violet ostrich, or give your day-to-evening look a kick of contemporary flair with our versatile new range of Mara accessories.

An Extraordinary Window into the World of Kerry Lemon

May 29, 2012

In celebration of Her Majesty the Queen’s 2012 Diamond Jubilee, we commissioned charming illustrator and artist Kerry Lemon to create a quintessentially British installation with a twist for our store windows.

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