1860 wallpaper patterns

1860 wallpaper patterns DEFAULT

William Morris and wallpaper design

During his career, William Morris produced over 50 wallpapers. These designs – many of which feature in the V&A's extensive Morris collection – adopted a naturalistic and very British take on pattern that was both new and quietly radical.

Remember that a pattern is either right or wrong. It cannot be forgiven for blundering, as a picture may be which has otherwise great qualities in it. It is with a pattern as with a fortress, it is no stronger than its weakest point.

William Morris

The success of Morris's wallpaper designs relies on his well-practiced and close observation of nature. Every one centres on plant-based forms, whether expressed in a luxuriantly naturalistic style (e.g. 'Acanthus' or 'Pimpernel') or one that is flatter and more formalised (e.g. 'Sunflower' or 'St James's Ceiling'). But Morris's designs were always subtle, stylised evocations of natural forms rather than literal transcriptions. He warned in his essay 'The Lesser Arts' (1877) against the likes of "sham-real boughs and flowers", and advised those designing wallpapers "to avoid falling into the trap of trying to make your paper look as if it were painted by hand". With a natural eye for pattern, Morris produced papers that not only balanced figuration and order, but which were (unusually for the time) distinctive.

In the early 1860s the British wallpaper market was booming, with mass-produced papers offering homeowners a cheaper alternative to textile-based wall decoration. Conscious of wallpaper's accelerating popularity, Morris made it one of the first things his new interior decorations company put into serial production. The first paper Morris designed was 'Trellis' in 1862, a pattern suggested by the rose trellis in the garden of Red House, Morris's home in Kent; the second was 'Daisy' (1864), a simple design of naively drawn meadow flowers. The next pattern, 'Fruit', (1865), also demonstrated the same informal naturalism of Morris's first two designs. All these papers, and nearly all that Morris then went on to design were printed using hand-cut woodblocks loaded with natural, mineral-based dyes.

In the early years of 'the Firm' (as the directors of Morris's company, Morris, Marshall, Faulkner & Co. called it), sales of wallpapers were rather limited. Morris's designs didn't chime with fashionable taste, which in the 1860s generally favoured wallpapers in the super-naturalistic 'French' style. Enabled by sophisticated new printing techniques, this look was characterised by complex and unashamedly pretty designs that centred on exuberant flowers and the use of illusory effects such as trompe l'œil. Although Morris also focused on plants, his work was unprecedented because it celebrated the simple forms he saw in British gardens, fields and hedgerows rather than exotic, imported blooms.

Morris's quietly radical designs were also noticably different to those produced by the Design Reformers. Active since the Great Exhibition of 1851 (which had been full of elaborate 'French'-style wallpapers), this group of affiliated designers consciously rejected the popular vision of wall-based pattern. Full of moral purpose, they aimed to create papers that were less gaudy, more 'honest' and, without any illusion of three-dimensionality, more appropriate for use on a wall. Morris's work was also 'flat' and to a degree stylised, but it had none of the severe formality of the geometric wallpapers by designers such as Owen Jones and Augustus Pugin (famous for his work on the interiors of the Houses of Commons).

Out of step with both aspects of contemporary wallpaper design, Morris's work was considered 'peculiar' – the verdict of most London decorators when his papers first appeared. It was only when Charles Eastlake's book Hints on Household Taste (1868) stimulated a wider engagement in interior design that the trade (and to a lesser extent the public) began to take an interest in Morris's designs.

It was in the 1870s that Morris really mastered designing for wallpaper, a period during which he created many of his most enduring designs, such as 'Larkspur' (1872), 'Jasmine' (1872), 'Willow' (1874), 'Marigold' (1875), 'Wreath' and 'Chrysanthemum' (both 1876–87). These patterns all demonstrate exuberant scrolling foliage, a degree of three-dimensionality, and a closely interwoven foreground and background. They all required a complex printing technique that involved a large number of individual printing blocks, making the resulting papers more costly than those that carried Morris's earlier, simpler designs. Morris papers began to be recommended in many domestic advice manuals and design books, including the affordable Art at Home series (1876–83). As a result they gradually began to be found in the newly built homes of the 'artistic' middle classes.

The most consistent champions of Morris's papers were people operating outside of mainstream bourgeois society. Artists in particular appreciated his work. His designs were hung in the London home of Morris's life-long friend, the painter Edward Burne-Jones, and in 1875 were used in decorative schemes throughout 18 Stafford Terrace, a house in London bought by Punch cartoonist Edward Linley Sambourne. Morris's work was also endorsed by a number of families in aristocratic circles. In the first half of the 1880s the Earl and Countess of Carlisle, who were friends with Morris and his wife, used Morris's richly coloured 'Bird and Anemone' and two versions of a design centred on sunflowers to update the 18th-century interiors of Castle Howard in Yorkshire.

In 1880 Morris was asked to redecorate rooms at London's St. James's Palace, a job for which he created a special wallpaper: 'St. James's'. Carrying a suitably lavish pattern, this design required 68 separate printing blocks to create a repeat over two wallpaper widths, and had a vertical repeat of 127cm. Then in 1887 Queen Victoria commissioned Morris & Company to create a special wallpaper design for Balmoral Castle with the 'VRI' cipher incorporated into it. These commissions no doubt boosted the commercial success of Morris's papers, as well as helping secure his reputation: by 1884 'Morrisonian' had become a known term in the interiors trade – and wallpaper design was no longer an anonymous art.

Despite the enthusiasm of artistic and aristocratic circles, Morris's papers were never universally admired as decorations for the ordinary home. Writing in the Journal of Decorative Arts in 1892, a commentator said that Morris's "…patterns are palatial in scale, and whilst their colouring is very beautiful and soft, the magnitude of the designs exclude them from ordinary work". Certainly many of Morris's later patterns – notably 'Acanthus' and 'St James's' – are on a grand scale. He felt that his larger patterns worked well in smaller rooms, but this went against the prevailing view of Victorian tastemakers, including Oscar Wilde, who apparently disliked Morris's work. Victorian architect Richard Norman Shaw also disapproved of Morris's delight in 'glaring wallpapers', saying that "A wallpaper should be a background pure and simple".

Despite his interest in its design, Morris still described wallpaper as a 'makeshift' decoration, treating it as only a tolerable substitute for more luxurious wall coverings. Some of the old snobbery about wallpaper as an imitative material, and a cheap option, still persisted and Morris, a wealthy man, preferred woven textile hangings for the walls of his own home. Between 1882 and Morris's death in 1896, Morris & Company issued a further 35 new wallpaper designs in a variety of types and prices. But from the early 1880s onwards wallpaper became less of a central concern for Morris as his energies were focused on the production of textiles at Merton Abbey Mills.

Although his papers were too expensive for most people to afford, towards the end of the 19th century Morris's designs began to have a significant influence on the wider market. Other designers and manufacturers began to produce cheaper papers in 'the Morris style', trying to recreate the appeal of his particular vision of organic growth controlled by a subtle geometry. And after Morris's death, the next generation of designers were conscious of working with his legacy. For example, Charles Voysey produced designs that show clear evidence of Morris's influence in his use of flat but complex patterns, as well as in his preference for stylised organic forms and motifs from nature.

Block-printing a William Morris wallpaper design

In a process that can take up to 4 weeks, using 30 different blocks and 15 separate colours, this video recreates the painstaking process in reproducing a William Morris wallpaper design from 1874.

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Background image: Acanthus wallpaper, designed by William Morris, manufactured by Jeffrey & Co., 1875, England. Museum no. E.800-1915. © Victoria and Albert Museum, London


William Morris


Sours: https://www.vam.ac.uk/articles/william-morris-and-wallpaper-design

A brief history of wallpaper

The history of wallpaper is not simply a history of ornamental patterns and designs. It is also a fascinating record of technological ingenuity and changes in patterns of consumption and domestic taste.

Originating in the 16th century, the earliest wallpapers were used to decorate the insides of cupboards and smaller rooms in merchants' houses rather than the grand houses of the aristocracy. But by the beginning of the 20th century, it was being used everywhere, in hallways, kitchens, bathrooms, and bedrooms as well as reception rooms, and was popular in both the wealthiest and poorest homes. Yet, it was this very popularity that led to wallpaper being regarded as the poor relation of the decorative arts. Take a journey through the V&A's vast wallpaper collection, dating from the mid-1500s to the present day, to discover its fascinating design history.

Many early wallpapers featured stylised floral motifs and simple pictorial scenes copied from contemporary embroideries and other textiles. They were printed in monochrome, in black ink on small sheets of paper that measured approximately 40 cm high by 50 cm wide. It was not until the mid-17th century that the single sheets were joined together to form long rolls, a development that also encouraged the production of larger repeats and the introduction of block-printing, which continued to be used in the manufacture of more expensive wallpapers until the mid-20th century. In this process, the design was engraved onto the surface of a rectangular wooden block. Then the block was inked with paint and placed face down on the paper for printing. Polychrome patterns required the use of several blocks – one for every colour. Each colour was printed separately along the length of the roll, which was then hung up to dry before the next colour could be applied. 'Pitch' pins on the corners of the blocks helped the printer to line up the design. The process was laborious and required considerable skill.

In a process that can take up to 4 weeks, using 30 different blocks and 15 separate colours, this video recreates the painstaking process in block-printing a William Morris wallpaper design from 1874.

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Technical improvements in the block-printing process meant that by the middle of the 18th century patterns could be printed in many colours and styles and the wallpaper industry in Britain flourished. As a result, it attracted the attention of the Excise Office who saw in wallpaper a potentially rich new source of revenue. A tax of 1d (0.75p) per yard was levied in 1712, rising to 1.5d (1p) in 1714 and 1.75d (1.25p) in 1777. These taxes inevitably led to increased prices and encouraged manufacturers to focus on more expensive wallpapers. Despite this, demand remained high and elegantly coloured patterns were sold by fashionable upholsterers like Thomas Chippendale.

The period was also particularly rich and inventive in terms of design. Floral patterns containing finely-coloured roses and carnations were most popular but architectural and landscape scenes were also admired. A paper from Doddington Hall contains framed figures and landscapes interspersed with flowers and insects, and the bright blues and pinks remind us that 18th-century interiors were often decorated in vivid colours. The idea of a wallpaper incorporating pictures within frames was inspired by the fashion for rooms decorated with prints cut out and pasted directly on to the wall, known as Print Rooms, that were pioneered by collectors such as Horace Walpole.

Most flock patterns were copied from textiles and imitated the appearance of cut velvets and silk damasks. Flock wallpapers were made with powdered wool, a waste product of the woollen industry, which was shaken over a fabric prepared with a design printed in varnish or size (a substance similar to glue). The powdered wool formed a rich pile that stuck to those areas covered by the design. At first, flock was applied to canvas or linen, but in 1634 Jerome Lanier, a Huguenot refugee working in London, patented a method by which the coloured wools could be applied to painted paper, and by the end of the 17th century flock wallpapers, as we know them, had appeared. They quickly became extremely fashionable. Their ability to accurately imitate textiles, at a time when it was customary to cover walls with fabric, was greatly admired, as was their cheaper price. Flock papers also had the added advantage of repelling moths due to turpentine used in the adhesive. A particularly magnificent example, featuring a large damask design of crimson flock on a deep pink background, was hung in the Privy Council offices, Whitehall, around 1735, and in the Queen's Drawing Room in Hampton Court Palace. By the third quarter of the 18th century there was hardly a country house in England that did not have at least one room decorated in a similar fashion.

An even more expensive decoration were the wallpapers made in China that first appeared in London in the late 17th century as part of a larger trade in Chinese lacquer, porcelain and silks. They rapidly came to dominate the market for luxury wall coverings for the next hundred years. Unlike European wallpapers, Chinese papers were painted, not printed, and featured large-scale, non-repeating pictorial scenes. Every set of papers was individually composed but the designs tended to fall into two groups. The first depicted the occupations and activities of Chinese life, while the second represented an assortment of exotic plants and birds, elegantly balanced in a landscape of shrubs and trees, that covered the walls of an entire room. Ironically, the Chinese did not use wallpapers themselves and their products were made exclusively for export. The accuracy and sophistication of their colours, and the naturalism and detail of their designs set new standards of excellence in wallpaper manufacture and established it as a luxury decoration much sought after. However, such was their reputation that before long European manufacturers were producing printed and hand-coloured imitations.

Up until 1840 all wallpapers were produced by hand using the block-printing process that, as we have seen, was labour-intensive and slow. Not surprisingly, manufacturers were keen to find ways of speeding up production and in 1839 the first wallpaper printing machine was patented by Potters & Ross, a cotton printing firm based in Darwen, Lancashire. Adapting the methods used in the printing of calico (a plain-woven textile made from cotton), the paper passed over the surface of a large cylindrical drum and received an impression of the pattern from a number of rollers arranged around its base. These were simultaneously inked with colours held in troughs beneath each one. The first machine-printed papers appeared thin and colourless beside the richer and more complex effects of block-printing and most had simple floral and geometric designs with small repeats. But no-one could deny the speed and economy with which wallpaper could now be made. Production in Britain rose from around one million rolls in 1834 to nearly nine million rolls in 1860, while prices dropped to as little as a farthing a yard (0.25p). In the space of just one generation wallpaper had become a commodity available to all but the most poor.

Mid-19th century wallpapers encompassed a huge variety of designs, including marble and wood-grain effects, imitation stucco, textile patterns, historical pastiches and revivalist styles. The most common were the many thousands of patterns featuring floral motifs and papers printed in bright colours with realistically shaded cabbage roses. To our eyes the naturalism of these patterns is quite appealing but to critics like the architect A. W. N. Pugin, it was characteristic of all that was wrong in Victorian design. Naturalistic patterns, he argued, were not only objectionable on aesthetic grounds but also inappropriate for the decoration of a wall. Their three-dimensionality did not work with its flat and solid surface and produced a disturbing and dishonest impression of depth. In their place, Pugin advocated designs with conventional ornament rather than realistic motifs. His own wallpapers contained his favourite medieval and heraldic ornament, but other designers like Owen Jones stylized nature, reducing flowers and foliage to a series of formal, symmetrical shapes. Despite the wide publicity given to these views, they never really took hold outside the design establishment and both manufacturers and the majority of their customers continued to prefer more traditional and naturalistic styles.

The writer, designer, conservationist and socialist, William Morris is possibly best-known for his wallpaper designs. He was responsible for more than 50 patterns and his influence upon the industry was long-lasting and profound. His work represents something of a compromise between the conflicting styles of the 1850s and 1860s. It has neither the full-blown, three-dimensionality of the mid-century cabbage rose, nor the geometrical severity of reformers' designs. Whereas Pugin and others abstracted nature according to a formulaic set of rules derived from historical example, Morris' abstraction of natural forms stemmed from direct observation of their organic shapes and curves. Also, in place of the exotic blooms, favoured by commercial manufacturers, most of Morris' patterns used commonplace plants that grew wild in meadows and the countryside. One of his most popular designs, Trellis (1864), was inspired by the rose trellises at Red House, his first home, and Willow Bough (1885) was based on drawings of willow branches that he made at his country home, Kelmscott Manor. The enduring impact of Morris' work can be seen not only in the many Arts and Crafts' imitations of his stylised natural forms, but also in the way that he transformed attitudes to decoration, encouraging a generation of middle-class consumers to want art and beauty in their homes.

A proliferation of pattern

The frieze-filling-dado wallpaper scheme highlights the popularity of wallpaper in Victorian homes. It was first recommended in 1868 as a way of breaking up the monotony of a single pattern on the wall, and by 1880 it was a standard feature in many fashionable interiors. The dado paper covered the lower part of the wall, between the skirting board and chair rail; above this hung the filling, and above this the frieze. And as if three different wallpapers were not enough decoration for any room, the scheme was often combined with ceiling papers to complete the densely-patterned effects. Ideally, the frieze should be light and lively, the filling, a retiring, all-over pattern, and the dado should be darker to withstand dirt and wear and tear. Co-ordinating papers, printed in muted 'art' greens, reds, yellows and golds, could be extremely attractive but the frieze-filling-dado-ceiling combination often led to visual overload. The treatment was best suited to hallways and stairs. But by 1900 ceiling papers had disappeared and, in artistic interiors, wide friezes, like the Peacock pattern produced by Shand Kydd, were hung above plain or simple panelled walls.

As the market for wallpaper expanded, increasingly specialised products were designed for ever-more specific functions and rooms. Victorian children were thought to be uniquely sensitive to their surroundings and by the last quarter of the 19th century many manufacturers were producing nursery papers aimed at improving impressionable young minds. The artist and illustrator Walter Crane, who was a prolific designer of wallpapers, was a master of this genre and his Sleeping Beauty (1879) paper exemplified the qualities of beauty and moral instruction that were required. The delicately drawn, slumbering figures entangled in a rose were clearly artistic, while the subject was well suited to encouraging children to sleep. Also, the wallpaper was especially practical. The oil-based pigments meant that it could be washed – or at least sponged – without damaging the colours. And even more importantly, it was arsenic-free. Arsenic had been widely used in the production of paints, fabrics and wallpapers since the 1800s and by the 1870s it was thought that the vapour given off by damp wallpapers could cause illness and even death. Children and the sick were particularly vulnerable. Growing public anxiety about the dangers of these wallpapers led manufacturers to develop products that were free of poisonous substances. Sleeping Beauty was included in a range produced by Jeffrey & Co. in the mid-1880s, entitled Patent Hygienic Wallpapers, that were advertised as washable and arsenic-free.

The 1920s and 1930s were boom years for the wallpaper industry in Britain and production rose from 50 million rolls in 1900 to nearly 100 million rolls in 1939, with most of the activity concentrated at the cheaper end of the market. While traditional stylised leaf and flower patterns continued to be widespread, patterns influenced by modern art and popular culture also appeared. Brightly-coloured, zig-zag, jazz designs vied with Cubist-style motifs in more design-conscious homes while Oriental subjects proved popular with customers seeking novelty. Arabian themes were inspired by the success of films like The Sheik (1922); Chinese patterns were indebted to books like Sax Rohmer's Fu Manchu series; and the discovery of Tutankhamen's tomb in 1922 led to a brief craze for Egyptian motifs. Cut-out borders and decorative panels, featuring geometric or floral patterns were combined with lightly embossed, plain or semi-plain backgrounds. The 'Good Design' movement of the 1950s favoured less fussy effects. It encouraged the use of flat, linear patterns and abstract geometric motifs, only to see them replaced by an explosion of bright colour and hallucinogenic Op and Pop designs in the 1960s. New products and new processes coincided with the growth of do-it-yourself (DIY) and in 1961 the first pre-trimmed and ready-pasted papers appeared, quickly followed by laminated papers, metallic finishes, and then tough, scrubbable vinyl wallpapers.

The 1960s and 1970s represented a high point for many wallpaper manufacturers when sales were strong and designs were bold and modern. But the oil crisis of 1973 led to a significant reduction in the size of the industry world-wide, with many firms going out of business or being taken over by large international corporations. Increasing competition from the paint industry and the popularity of finishes like stippling (creating shapes and images by making many small dots) and rag-rolling (using a roughly folded cloth to create a marbled effect) in the 1980s also led to reductions in sales and the only areas of growth were in the cheaper, mass-produced goods sold in DIY superstores. More recently, however, wallpaper has undergone a revival in its fortunes. The fashion for feature walls has encouraged a taste for larger, more assertive patterns while the development of digital printing and the revival of screen-printing has enabled artists and freelance designers to get involved. Deborah Bowness and Tracy Kendall make bespoke and limited edition papers that are more like installations than wallpapers. Firms like the Glasgow-based Timorous Beasties transform traditional pastoral scenes into dark, edgy images of contemporary life, and the involvement of big names from the world of fashion, such as Vivienne Westwood and Ralph Lauren, has helped to make wallpaper the essential background for a bold 21st-century lifestyle.

'Fruit' (or 'Pomegranate') wallpaper pattern, designed by William Morris, manufactured by Jeffrey & Co., 1866, England. Museum no. E.447-1919. © Victoria and Albert Museum, London




Background image: Sample from large wallpaper panel with digital image of ruched tartan fabric, designed by Vivienne Westwood, manufactured by Cole & Son (Wallpapers) Ltd., 2009, UK. Museum no. E.1477:43-2011. © Victoria and Albert Museum, London

Sours: https://www.vam.ac.uk/articles/a-brief-history-of-wallpaper
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The drop match was an important new tool, especially for large, formal patterns. Flocks (patterns that imitated woven fabrics) and arabesques (elegant, neo-classical designs) shared the same problem-they could look deadly dull when hung straight across. The drop match solved this problem by introducing variety.

American paperstainers regularly copied foreign wallpaper patterns using the same manufacturing technique of carving designs into wood blocks, dipping them in ink, and stamping the paper with the blocks. However, they soon found that depicting natural forms, especially the human face, required a higher degree of block-carving skill than was readily available. Instead, domestic producers concentrated on the backgrounds and brought out a variety of vibrant mosaic designs in all sizes between 1810 and 1840. These home-grown designs filled the demand for cheap, colorful backgrounds. Many of them can still be seen appearing behind dour-faced sitters in the folk art paintings of Jacob Maentel and Henry Walton.

In the process, the simple diamond form became much more than a framework because it began to sprout leaves, curlicues, pinstripes, shading, and shadow lines. All this decoration had the effect of making the background more prominent.

Grids of a Fashion

Diapers, which decorate materials from masonry to textiles, are a pattern of repeated motifs that were often used on dadoes and occasionally along borders, where they finished the edges nicely. The patterns were originally small-mere texture or embellishments on a grid. When diapers were used as the backdrop in wallpaper, dots or other small designs often peppered the intersections. Part of the success of the stately early 18th-century flock patterns was due to the rich embellishment provided by these diaper backgrounds.

Later, larger diaper patterns of medieval, Elizabethan, or Gothic forms found their way into wallpaper. But whether large or small, diapers remained static, whereas a trellis pattern conveyed movement and growth. Like the iron grid used on prison doors and windows, the diaper forms could appear oppressive, and though they tended to lack the dynamism of the floral and leafy motifs seen in trellis paper, they have an abstract appeal. Many 19th-century tastemakers praised the simple decorative quality of diaper forms because when they were used, the papered wall remained a flat, two-dimensional surface. An influential designer who showed how to carry out this idea was Christopher Dresser, who championed art botany-a stylized artificial art form with botany as its basis-in the 1860s and 1870s. He advocated supplementing floral motifs with sophisticated tints and diaper backgrounds for a more artistic approach.

Ode to a Trellis

For those who admired illusionistic, three-dimensional effects, there was the trellis, a grid that looked like a lattice. Evoking images of arbors with their trailing vines and flowers, the classic trellis pattern aimed to bring the outdoors in, provided that certain rules applied. For instance, House and House Furnishings, a British decorating book published in 1841, advised against using any pattern with lines crossed so as to form squares for a low-ceiling room, but took a different view if the lines were sloping or diagonal: A diamond trellis pattern, with a slender plant creeping over it, looks well in a small summer parlour. When a diagonal design had no plants or flowers, the trellis grid was often elaborated to resemble a lattice.

You didn’t have to be a Romantic poet to notice that grids and flowers were a perfect combination, but several did. Thomas Jefferson Hogg, a friend of Percy Shelley and his first biographer, described what happened when the pair went apartment hunting in London and in one of the flats discovered trellis wallpaper, something that was relatively uncommon at the time. There were trellises, vine leaves, with their tendrils and huge clusters of grapes, green and purple, Hogg wrote, explaining that Shelley found it all delightful. He went close up to the wall and touched it. Then, Shelley told Hogg, We must stay here; stay for ever.

So strong was the attraction for paper roses among Romantic poets that James Leigh Hunt insisted on decorating with them, even though at the time he was serving a two-year prison sentence for calling the Prince Regent a fat Adonis. Nevertheless, Hunt was able to bribe or charm his jailers into letting him occupy and decorate several rooms in the prison’s infirmary. I papered the walls with a trellis of roses, Hunt wrote. I had the ceiling coloured with clouds and sky; the barred windows I screened with Venetian blinds. Charles Lamb declared that there was no other such room, except in a fairy tale.

Trellises may have been somewhat rare in England in the early 19th century, but by mid-century that had changed. In a 1988 article for Country Life magazine, British author Pauline Flick reported that many of the wallpaper registrations between 1842 and 1883 were of diamond designs, ranging from the neat diaper patterns recommended by Owen Jones to ivy plants climbing up a crisscross framework of wooden poles. Naturally, mid-century designers came up with fresh variations for their favorite theme. The designers, Flick wrote, produced trellises smothered with jasmine and honeysuckle, bunches of rosebuds tied with intersecting ribbons, formal quatrefoil motifs like the diamond panes of a stained-glass window, and countless others.

As usual in the wallpaper world, a good idea wasn’t considered perfected until it had been run into the ground. Manufacturers flooded the market with multi-colored floral patterns, most of them based on diamond modules. During the design wars that filled the latter half of the century, critics often scorned the homely, predictable, floral trellis and its related forms. In Household Art, an 1893 book edited by Candace Wheeler, one theorist complained about the dreariness of an English bedroom with its 40-or 50-year-old wallpaper on which great, staring bunches of ill-shaped flowers are daubed of every conceivable hue. The author was further dismayed that these same wallpapers could be purchased in any American town, appearing all too often in the bedrooms and sitting rooms of middle-class families. The United States, according to this author, may have achieved design parity with England, but it was only for bad design.

Trellises continued to decorate the walls in both countries as either bold frameworks or more subtle William Morris prints, most of which achieved the ideal of appearing trellis-like without actually showing the trellis. One exception was the first wallpaper Morris designed, that of an unusual square trellis. Morris created Trellis in 1862, a pattern that was inspired by his garden at Red House, which was organized on a medieval plan with square flowerbeds enclosed by rose-covered wattle trellises. The pattern combined the simplicity of floral elements taken from medieval woodcuts, carefully rendered birds (drawn by his architect friend Phillip Webb), and a unique, undulating perspective. Flowers and vines were featured in both background and foreground, intertwining with the trellis.

The pattern remained a personal favorite for Morris, and he chose it for his bedroom at Kelmscott House, his London home for the last 18 years of his life. It must have satisfied his criteria for wallpaper design, which he believed should mask the construction of pattern enough to prevent people from counting the repeats while managing to lull their curiosity to trace it out.

Robert M. Kelly is the principal at WRN Associates in Lee, Massachusetts.

Sours: https://www.oldhouseonline.com/interiors-and-decor/evolution-of-wallpaper-patterns/

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