Inside a grand country house once home to the great collector Victoria de Rothschild
There is a tradition in the Rothschild family of collecting fine and decorative arts, all meticulously documented over the course of three centuries. Victoria de Rothschild, who died in January 2021, was no exception to this and, having married into the family in the 1970s, she carried the baton forward in her own elegant and original way.
Hers was a rare and exotic focus. She had an instinctive eye for design; textiles and all things textural captivated her from an early age, evolving over time into a fascination for craftsmanship and applied arts. She collected sculpture and vessels, Japanese baskets, ceramics, silver, glass, contemporary furniture, photographs, jewellery and hats, always seeking out new young artists. Ranging widely in her purchases, she edited her collections constantly, choosing particular pieces of museum quality to position in her beautifully conceived interiors.
Victoria was born in the sunshine of Florida, though her family later moved to Manhattan. Her sense of style was inherited from her mother Marcia Lou Whitney Schott, a chic and distinguished New York decorator. In 1973, aged 23, Victoria married Sir Evelyn de Rothschild and came to London, bringing with her a certain transatlantic elegance.
When Evelyn’s mother Yvonne died in 1977, he and Victoria took custody of Ascott House in Buckinghamshire. Originally a 17th-century farmhouse, it was acquired by Baron Mayer de Rothschild in 1873 – as part of the larger Mentmore Estate – and given to his nephew Leopold, who had it expanded and remodelled into the large country house that can be visited today. Leopold’s son Anthony (Evelyn’s father) had donated the house to the National Trust in 1949. The agreement included the right for the family to live in the house and for the collection – including paintings by Thomas Gainsborough, George Stubbs, Andrea del Sarto and Aelbert Cuyp, the finest quality French and English furniture, and an important specialist collection of Chinese ceramics dating from 200 BC – to remain in situ. To this day, the family uses the entire house during the winter, and the beautiful private rooms in spring and summer, when the house and garden are open to visitors.
Once she had moved in, Victoria was able to give full rein to her delicate, pared-back aesthetic. Though shy, she approached Renzo Mongiardino, the great Milanese set designer and decorator. Together they transformed the house, untouched since 1945, creating a sophisticated, exquisite environment: the private rooms intimate and cosy; the grander, public rooms more formal.
There were later additions. New York architect and designer Peter Marino refurbished some of the bedrooms and, in 1997, Robert Kime restored the Porcelain Room and the Common Room. The transitions between the touch of these three esteemed designers appear seamless. Victoria’s own themes emerge throughout their respective work; she was the driving force and they clearly understood and imbibed her aesthetic.
‘My mother had the challenge of working round the existing collection,’ explains her daughter Jessica. ‘She and Mongiardino approached this with great care, finding common ground in their love of layering, of pattern on pattern, of delicate stripes, paisleys and friezes.’ They used them lavishly, but in a restrained manner, with barely discernible variations in shade and motif – so different to the fashion for chintz and glazed cottons popular at the time. ‘I remember long trestle tables set up in the dining room,’ she adds. ‘Strips of wallpaper, friezes and borders were being stencilled, painted or block printed, then applied to the walls. There was so much happening, it was like a film set. They were creating a world that has hardly dated and remains intact to this day.’
In the grand dining room, there are several imperceptibly different, superimposed layers of friezes and trimmed wallpapers, and trompe l’oeil blue and white Delft tiles. Another of Victoria’s ideas, long before it became mainstream, was to use humble natural materials: cane, bamboo, matting and raffia. Sometimes raffia was applied to the walls, then stencilled – as in the corridor upstairs – and chairs made of raffia and leather would be stamped with a pattern around the edges. Her attention to detail was phenomenal. Every corner, every tablescape had its own story: the objects, the art chosen, the juxtapositions took you by surprise, but all came together in a natural way.
After 25 years at Ascott, however, in 2000, the couple went their separate ways. Based in London after her marriage ended, Victoria continued to collect over the following decades. With the confidence to buy primarily from living artists, her purchases were always an emotional response to things that moved her.
The Far East was new territory for her. She travelled widely during those years, with her great friend Annie Summers. Victoria was always on the lookout for crafts with texture and movement, and of the best quality: vessels, sculptures and jewellery, often monochrome, in natural materials – ceramic, wood, woven fibre, lacquer, platted thread, even paper. The perfectionism and discipline of Japanese craft captivated her – in many ways, it reflected her personality. She bought, among other things, Naoko Serino’s works of jute fibre; Ritsue Mishima’s etched glass; pieces made of whitewashed ash by Irish craftsman Liam Flynn; and carved wooden objects by Marc Ricourt.
After Victoria died, her children reluctantly decided to sell a large part of her collection. Designer Tomasz Starzewski, who is a family friend and the long-term curator of her acquisitions – together with Maak auction house, specialists in ceramics and crafts – came up with the idea of presenting an installation of the craftworks purchased by Victoria in the rooms open to the public at Ascott House, the rooms she had so exquisitely decorated in the 1980s. A harmonious juxtaposition emerged, and the varied pieces have settled happily within her decoration. Over 100 works are on show; an intimate collection, including personal items and jewellery, things she wore and lived with. Running alongside the public exhibition, there are private tours and related talks leading up to the online sale on September 21.
‘In many ways, my mother was an artist – creative and highly original,’ says Jessica. ‘I think of her as a maximalist/minimalist. She had broad horizons and collected widely, always curating and paring down in her final choices.’