Colour is Home by Charlotte Coote
In her new book, Colour is Home, Charlotte Coote guides us through the sometimes tricky process of mixing colour and pattern from original brief to finished design.
Words: Charlotte Coote I Photography: Lisa Cohen
Photo: Lisa Cohen
Photo: Lisa Cohen
Creating the ‘narrative’ for your project is where the fun starts. Before you even begin to contemplate colour, textiles or furniture, it is essential to decide on an overall theme or story. The narrative is what forms the heart of the design. If a narrative is strong, it can really elevate the look and feel of a completed space.
Identifying a theme: There are many ways to identify a project narrative or theme. For starters, try standing in the house, or on its future site, and looking at the surrounding landscape. What do you see? What is the local climate like throughout the seasons? What is the history of the area? Often the answers to such questions can help form a narrative for your project to follow.
When it came time to design the new kitchen at Marnanie, the first thing I did was just stand in the space for some time and look around. I wanted to understand the light in the room and also consider what could be seen through the windows. The view through the glass was green, green and more green. Specifically, I could see rhododendrons, a chestnut tree, Dicksonia tree ferns, a monkey puzzle tree and mollis azaleas.
I knew from experience that the colour of the landscape wouldn’t change much over the seasons. I went outside and picked handfuls of leaves, arranged them on the floor in the space and selected a green colour that related to them all: Mount Macedon Green, I called it. I decided to paint all the kitchen joinery in this colour. This reminded me of the quintessential English Georgian country kitchen, in which joinery was often painted. And from here my narrative was born.
“Before you even begin to contemplate colour, textiles or furniture, it is essential to decide on an overall theme or story.”
Alternatively, a design narrative might emerge from a life experience that touched you somehow. The feelings and memories of that time can offer inspiration and resonate through the project. A previous home often influences the creation of a narrative. One Coote & Co. project is a case in point. When our clients’ historic family home burnt down in a devastating fire, we were commissioned to work with them to redesign the interiors of the new property.
We began building our narrative by researching the art and interiors of the original home: studying pictures, artefacts and books. We also asked the owners to share memories, stories and feelings from their time living in the old house. Tapping into these stories allowed us to gain a strong sense of the home’s history and heritage, and thus to retain its original charm. We worked hard to create quirks and layers in the new home that would look like they had been there forever. Inspiration born of feelings and personal experiences inevitably leads to a stronger narrative.
A narrative can also be ‘cold’ created from something tangible or intangible. It might stem from an idea, a particular artwork, or even a rug or significant piece of furniture. For one of our Queensland projects, the client was drawn to the idea of the pineapple being a symbol of welcome. We used the pineapple motif throughout the project, replicating and reimagining it in numerous ways: we designed bespoke porcelain crockery, chose textiles and cabinetry hardware that reflected the theme, and used the iconic Coote & Co. pineapple lamp bases.
I find that spaces designed without a defined narrative can often fall down. It’s not enough to fill an interior with arbitrary bits and pieces – the various elements must somehow relate to one another. An interior should tell a story. The narrative might develop over time, as new layers are introduced, but the original concept must always be kept in mind to ensure continuity and cohesiveness.
