Basking in the Glow of Roman and Williams’s New Exhibition
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Photo: Weston Wells
On a late afternoon in fall, the sun can sit so low on the Manhattan sky that the entire city seems edged in light. But come dusk, as that glow dissipates, electric bulbs switch on, natural beauty fading into the industrial aura. And so it was last evening, when Architectural Digest and Roman and Williams gathered with friends to celebrate the AD100 firm’s latest triumph: an exhibition of lighting at the historic Mercantile Building. Guests, among them a who’s who of the design, art, and publishing worlds, caught their first glimpse of the display from the street, where double-height windows hinted at the luminous treasures beyond. Only upon entering the second-level space, however, did the full panorama reveal itself: a constellation of 100 fixtures, each one a singular feat of craft—and beneath them a long dinner table set for 70.
Titled “A Certain Slant of Light,” the temporary exhibition takes its name from poet Emily Dickinson’s own rumination on the raking sun of winter afternoons. (At dinner, her full prose appeared on sheets of vellum at each setting.) Inside the late-19th-century edifice, designed by architect Thomas R. Jackson, firm founders Robin Standefer and Stephen Alesch have surveyed their lighting designs for Roman and Williams Guild, among them 12 new introductions. (Jackson also designed the Guild’s Howard Street address.) Fans, of course, will immediately recognize past hits such as the Oscar pendants, distinguished by hand-spun brass shades, and Woodrum series, the brawny architectural forms of which reference ancient Celtic barrel making. “Light is unique and poetic and remarkable,” notes Standefer, who likens it to a force that can stir emotion, "creating an immersive environment that captivates the senses.”
Light, of course, has long formed an ineffable through line in the work of Roman and Williams. Picture the sybaritic ambiance of the Boom Boom Room, with its reflective ceiling medallions, sputnik-style hanging fixtures, and illuminated central column. Or the hushed atmosphere of Le Coucou, where flickering candles join a chorus of custom pewtered-steel chandeliers and cast-glass sconces…. Or The Met’s renovated British galleries, whose carefully calibrated radiance coaxes 400 years of decorative arts into sharper relief. “Far from being static, lighting is dynamic and ever-changing, capable of transforming any space,” says Standefer, explaining how lighting can reveal unexpected nuances of texture, color, and form.
The firm’s tireless attention to detail reveals itself in their latest lighting designs. Four years in the making, the Axil pendant, for instance, required molding glass at an unprecedented scale to realize its three-tiered shades. The Lentium sconce and table lamp, meanwhile, mark dynamic feats of sculpture, their cast-bronze frames bearing Alesch’s own handiwork. (Every piece is a creative pas-de-deux between him and Standefer.) And the Porto sconces showcase a dynamic interplay of material traditions, with burnished brass wall brackets supporting hand-blown shades of opaline, aubergine, and clear glass, at turns rippled or smooth. That rigorous sensitivity extends to the Petra Egg and Globe pendants, the alabaster for which was sourced from Spain on account of its subtle veining. Dinner guests, transfixed, could be overheard comparing the stone orbs to celestial bodies.
Taken as a whole, the 100 fixtures capture the firm’s wide-ranging influences, pivoting nimbly among disparate styles. But the mix also reveals a common ethos, grounded in master craft and rigorous construction. Brass was produced in France using a special copper content to yield warmer tones. Glass, meanwhile, has been cast in Sogni, Italy, according to age-old techniques. And bronze was poured at a historic Parisian foundry using ceramic molds. Look closely and you’ll also discover the minutiae of construction, with nuts and bolts exposed. “Lights are the embodiment of art and science,” says Standefer. “They create layers of atmosphere that fuse the pragmatic and the philosophical. They are also, in some ways, the pinnacle of industrial design for us—inanimate objects that literally animate space, through which we create light and experience.”
At dinner, that experience included coursed servings of lobster salad, steak au poivre, and a decadent charlotte au chocolat. Champagne flowed and so did conversation, as friends new and old connected. To one end of the table, AD100 designers Peter Pennoyer and Elizabeth Roberts could be found swapping New York stories. To the other, AD New American Voices Matt McKay and Darren Jett chatted about Brooklyn nightlife. Holding court front and center were Standefer, Alesch, and AD global editorial director Amy Astley, surrounded by friends Nate Berkus, Rachel Feinstein, Leo Villareal, and more. Standefer put it best: “Quality of life, quality of light—they are absolutely connected.”
Originally Appeared on Architectural Digest