Image courtesy of Random House
The Curated Object was thrilled when the lovely and talented design editor and journalist Jen Renzi took more than a few moments to discuss her latest book from Random House, The Art of Tile. Renzi’s years of experience and research as an industry insider have provided her with access to the very best and most important products, designer and projects-- and she has created a resulting volume that is both accessible and aesthetically astute. Considering tile an object worthy of admiration and intense exploration, she has created a dialogue between designer, consumer and lover of all things tactile. Her cultural acumen and emotional connection to the material have manifested themselves in a project worthy of the forthcoming hours of addictive page-turning. And to support your addition? Her beautiful blog, The Tileist - Joanne Molina
What was your initial goal when you starting penning your volume? Did it change as your research progressed? What was the most challenging part of compiling the information? This volume is unique insofar as that it bridging the gap between the starkness of the instructional tome and the glossy abstractness of a coffee table volume. What were some of the challenges creating a guide that would offer a provocative visual journey through the world of tile, as well as offer a comprehensive understanding of the craft?
JR: The goal was twofold: 1) to produce the biggest, most comprehensive book about tile on the planet and 2) to introduce readers to the breadth and depth of the category. I want people to be bowled over by all the insanely gorgeous materials at their disposal, and emboldened to consider more decorative choices when choosing tile for their home. White subway tile is great and all, but if you knew you could just as easily have wallpaper-patterned porcelain or a glass mosaic of blossoming roses, you’d probably be a bit more adventurous. Tile is such a great vehicle for bringing color, texture, pattern, or illumination into a space—but too often overlooked.
Image Courtesy of Random House
What was the most challenging part of compiling the information?
JR: Logistics!!!! The hard-core labor collating such a huge volume demanded. And it was a suicidal deadline: I had four months to shoot 25 spaces, 2,000 tiles, and write 40,000 words! I was this close to a nervous breakdown.
Every image in the book (except maybe four) was shot by Ben Ritter. The only way to complete that much photography that quickly was to camp out in a number of the best showrooms and shoot our favorites from their inventory. While showroom conditions are ideal for selling tile, they are far from photo-studio caliber! Thankfully, Ben is a total genius at overcoming daunting lighting conditions.
We did also shoot some tiles in the studio, but trafficking all that product proved exceedingly difficult. Tile is heavy, expensive to ship, and takes up lots of room. There was one day where I still had about a week’s left of round-the-clock writing ahead of me, and half of my 310-square-foot abode apartment was filled with boxes of tiles. I opened one and about 5 gallons of foam peanuts spilled out all over my living room, sticking to everything. That was a very dark moment!
This volume is unique in that it bridges the gap between the starkness of the instructional tome and the glossy abstractness of a coffee table volume. What were some of the challenges creating a guide that would offer a provocative visual journey through the world of tile, as well as offer a comprehensive understanding of the craft?
From the get-go, we knew that about 2/3 of the book would be successive pages of tile; I call it a catalog raisonné, but that’s a bit hoity-toity sounding. Regardless, that set the tone of the whole volume. We definitely wanted it to be a seductive coffee-table book, and to keep the mood aspirational.
Devising a structure that offered enough information without veering into how-to territory was challenging. I wanted to give readers enough background to make informed choices, but not to overwhelm them. At one point, I did have a section that explained the minutiae of how tile is installed—it walked you through the nitty-gritty—but it ended up feeling a little too instructional, so we cut it. My editor was very patient: she really helped me develop an outline that reflected our goals.
Thankfully, once we started putting the book together, I found that the images spoke for themselves. I credit this to Ben: he did an amazing job capturing these spaces from the right point of view, showing how tile works within the architecture of a room. One of my pet peeves in decorating books is photos that get in a little too close to the tile, or that don’t show you how the whole space hangs together.
The structure of the book actually really enables the above description. Particularly wonderful is the way that the second half of the volume explores the bazillions of tones, texture, patterns, shapes and peoples that appear on these tiny or tremendous canvases. Was there a section that you wish you had more room to explore? The sections on leather and glass are exquisite!
I love glass and leather, too! I would have liked to have shown even more leather, because the category has truly diversified over the last few years. There’s one company in Italy that makes tiles with a high-tech yet eco-friendly coating that renders them waterproof—you can even install them on yacht decks! And they come in super-crazy colors and patterns. Very sexy. Another recent discovery was a green company that makes tiles from shredded leather scraps—they are molded in a manner similar to cork.
And speaking of cork, that’s one material I wanted to show more of. People usually think of it as granola-looking, but today there are some very sleek offerings: ones that come in planks like wood floorboards, or colored in pretty pastel hues. It’s one of the more chameleon-like materials.
As much as I was able to fit into the book, there’s so much more that I wanted to showcase! This is why I recently started a blog on tile The Tileist as a companion to—and continuation of—the book.
Image courtesy of Random House
As individual objects and as parts of a more comprehensive project tiles really do have a lot to say in terms of the visual story they offer. Do you think it’s a challenge for the public to see tiles as objects in their own right? Do you think it’s intimidating in some ways given the availability of information?
JR: That latter point is really important. In my eyes, it’s why tile is still not as popular—as a decorative treatment in living spaces—in the US as it is in other cultures or countries. The world of tile is very intimidating! On one hand, it’s a building material, so there is a lot of technical know-how involved in installation. Not every kind of tile is suitable in all areas of the home: large-format glass is too slippery on floors, many glazed porcelains are for walls only, and you don’t want to put Thassos marble in the shower. And beyond these pragmatic matters, there are so many options in terms of color, material, pattern, shape, and size that I think people just get overwhelmed and give up. I hope that The Art of Tile will help. It’s a first step, providing an introduction to the material. And then you can flip through the back and review tons of choices to start honing in on what appeals to you.
So, some of what makes this a daunting category is the sheer amount of information and product. But I think there is also a culture of….not intimidation, really, but perhaps a bit of condescension. While I found many exceedingly knowledgeable and enthusiastic experts excited to teach people about tile, I did encounter a lot of, “oh I can’t believe you don’t know this company/this historic tradition/what hand-chopped marble mosaic is?!” People can get a little know-it-all-y. It’s like telling someone you were an art history major in college and they start grilling you about 16th-century Dutch portraiture—when, in fact, your specialty was high modernism, so you find yourself being apologetic for not having an intimate knowledge of the discipline’s entire canon!
I was just in one of the big showrooms today chatting with the head of marketing said how few interior decorators they work with really know how to design with tile. And these are professionals! So don’t feel bad if you are unsure where to start, or how to get the look you want. That’s my biggest piece of advice.
Image courtesy of Random House
One of the things I find very admirable throughout the volume is that you give experts their due credit and always maintain that readers should go with a professional. (The resource guide in the back of the book is phenomenal!) Can you discuss some of the reasons why you were so adamant about this?
JR: I am such a believer in putting yourself in the hands of people more knowledgeable than you—and in hiring pros for anything involving heavy boxes, dusty mess, and time-consuming labor! Tile is not like paint or fabric. It is a building material, like drywall or floor joists—things most of us would not even consider installing ourselves. A tiled surface is as much about the underlying wall/floor structure as it is about the top 1/2-inch of material. I have heard too many horror stories of installations gone awry—even by professionals: bathrooms and entryway floors ripped up to reveal lots of structural work was needed to shore up the substrate, for instance. Hiring a contractor who can oversee the job is your safest bet—if any surprises pop up, he/she can address it prior to the actual installation.
And designers can help you select the best product for your application and aesthetic. They can help you get to your desired look much faster than you can on your own!
Image courtesy of Random House
What was the most surprising part of your research? The fact or project that surprised you the most?
JR: Perhaps the most surprising discovery was how diverse my own tastes are. I was a little embarrassed to find myself cooing over these handmade ceramics at Urban Archaeology that had a relief print of antique lace. They were totally girlie. Usually I’m much more of a modernist!
Producing the book was like a crash course in material culture. I had to do mini dissertations on each material, so I learned so much about how things are made and maintained. Many materials are much sturdier and lower-maintenance than I thought they were.
Another great point that you make both in the text and by through your illustrations is that tile also has many co-stars, so to speak, such as grout. How do understanding these other elements help people better understand the virtually endless possibilities of using tile?
People really hate grout. It’s hard to pick the right color, and it can get pretty grody if not properly maintained. But it can be such an expressive tool. The very first day of shooting, a showroom sales rep showed me boards of this pretty pale-purple ceramic mosaic. There were three little samples on the board—one set with white grout, one with grey grout, and one with brownish grout. They all looked good, but what was fascinating was that each color grout made the tiles themselves look like a different hue in each case! It was a very effective demonstration of choosing the right color to complement your tile or to draw out certain characteristics. Two years ago at Cersaie, the big tile trade show in Italy, I saw these greyish triangular mosaics installed with a lime-green grout. It was beyond chic, and really unusual without veering into gimmicky territory.
Even within a traditional gridlike or running-bond installation, you can choose a color grout that emphasizes the geometry of the installation, or that tones it down so surfaces look more uniform, and less “tiled”. Use white grout with white tiles and you notice the tiles themselves. But use black grout with white tiles and you emphasize the pattern. (And hide the dirt!) There’s a lot of optical play involved.
One of my favorite companies is Ceramica de Treviso, which makes mosaics that reverse the relationship of tile to grout. They have products that are like fields of grout—almost like Venetian plaster—with little mosaics set in here and there to create nifty patterns. It’s a very arty look. The most extreme example of grout that I’ve encountered is a bathroom by designer David Mann, who lined all the walls in grey grout—and no tiles whatsoever!
Image courtesy of Random House
You really illustrate the versatile nature of tile; how it is functional insofar as it is designed to withstand the lives it supports (often quite literally). Many of the techniques and styles you describe either endure hardship of daily living—or more interestingly embrace it and wear it as a badge of honor. What are the challenges of trying to explain the benefits of living with tile that basks in its own history? Do you think people are more prone to embrace this? Are there certain places in the world where you think this trend is embraced more?
JR: “Living” materials—ones that age and patinate over time, like leather, stone, and some metals—are not for everyone. You really have to embrace randomness and chaos, and let nature take its course. You can’t be controlling! But I think such materials offer the ultimate reward, and the ultimate luxury, since they evolve into a completely one-of-a-kind look.
But I totally sympathize with people who want surfaces to look like they were just installed. That’s the nice thing about the new generation of decorative porcelains, which beautifully mimic leather or chiseled stone or even fabric. You can have the look of a more delicate material, but rest assured that it will always look like new.
Image courtesy of Random House
Did you find yourself drawn to a particular kind of tile? After seeing the possibilities what would we find in your dream space?
JR: It’s tough. I no longer have any objectivity! One thing I’d love is a walk-in closet swathed in leather floor tiles. The material is so sumptuous underfoot and confined spaces really accentuate the scent. I’ve actually become a huge fan of cork, too. It’s surprisingly sturdy, versatile, and antimicrobial—and has such a great eco story. But it also has a character similar to wood (no surprise, I guess, since it is made from bark). It’s also a little squishy and resilient. That combo if soft and durable is not something you find in many materials.











Comments