If Hollywood had a royal family, Hutton Wilkinson would certainly be part of it. His roots in Los Angeles reach back to 1877. Pasadena was founded by his great grandfather. And he’s rubbed elbows with virtually any family who provided the foundation stones for the very ground we stand on today. Yet, Wilkinson’s renown has just as much to do with what he does as who he is. At just 17-years-old, he apprenticed under the late visionary Tony Duquette whose set pieces were greatly responsible for giving the silver screen its shine. Wilkinson’s more-is-more approach has amplified every aspect of his artistry. Whether he’s one-of-a-kind crafting architectural jewelry ornamented with precious stones or celebrating the life of structures with decadent design, he never stops until expectations are a distant memory. Wilkinson was kind enough to invite JohnHart Media into his opulent Dawnridge estate, the world-famous property once owned by Tony Duquette. Painstakingly perpetuated as an unofficial tribute to the decades the duo spent pushing each other to create bigger and bolder visions, Dawnridge is the closest we’ll ever get to stepping into the minds of Duquette and Wilkinson. And the transition from modern-day Beverly Hills to the timeless, tangible fantasy of Dawnridge can only be likened to fairytale epics. For one afternoon, Wilkinson sat with us to discuss the difference between living and dead homes, lament the disappearance of character and individuality, and emphasize why “over-the-top” just isn’t enough.
JohnHart: What was Hutton Wilkinson like growing up?
Hutton Wilkinson: Growing up, I was no different than I am today. We have home movies of everyone coming down for Christmas morning and all of my brothers and sisters in pajamas and underwear looking like a mess and I come down in a little red coat with brass buttons or a tailcoat or something. So, I was always fancy. In Harpers Bazaar they call me “Mr. Fancy”. It’s very sad.
I grew up in Hancock Park. My great-granddaddy was the founder of Pasadena. He wrote the city charter for Pasadena. He was here since 1877.
I always wanted to be an architect. I grew up in my grandfather’s and father’s architectural offices in Hollywood. I realized as an adult that it was the decorators who got all the attention and who had the Rolls-Royces in those days. (A decorator) could make a lot of money and get a lot of attention too. So, I became a decorator and I was very successful and invested everything I made into real estate.
JH: You’re a Renaissance man recognized for a few different art forms. Besides interior design, I know you write books…
HW: I didn’t know I could read, let alone write. (laughs) Yeah, I do a lot of different things. I’m crazy about interiors, but I’m also crazy about making one-of-a-kind pieces of jewelry, and we’ve had a big success with that. It’s under the name Tony Duquette.
Tony and I started the jewelry business around 1995. I was the designer from Day One. He never really believed in it, but it was a highly successful business and Vogue magazine wrote: “After a maximum of minimalism, all fashion is turning to Tony Duquette for inspiration.” One year we had 365 pages of editorial publicity just for jewelry.
JH: Did you feel that, as a child, you wanted to work with jewelry also?
HW: I loved it. My mother had beautiful jewels, and hers were all French. She was South American. In South America, everything comes from Paris; all the furniture, all the jewelry, all the clothes, the curtains; everything comes from Paris. So, she had beautiful jewelry, and I was always playing with it.
Tony would spend $365,000 in the ’60s for decorations. Now we get about $1 million for decorations, and I know people who are spending much more than that, but it’s almost enough money to do a good job.
My granddaddy was President of Bolivia from 1934 to 1935 and there was always a picture of him on the piano in a white tie and tails with this great big diamond seal, this presidential seal of Bolivia. I was always trying to put her jewelry together to make that seal. She banned me from her jewelry box, but I never stopped. (laughs)
JH: When and how did you first meet Tony Duquette?
HW: Well, I learned about Tony Duquette when I was in seventh grade and there was an article about Tony and Elizabeth Duquette. They lived in a silent film studio; they only lived here (Dawnridge) for one year, and then (Tony) was invited to go to the Louvre to have his exhibition, and so they rented (Dawnridge) to Marlon Brando when he was doing Julius Caesar. Also Glynis Johns, Eva Gabor, Nancy Oakes, who’s father, Sir Harry Oakes, was the Governor of the Bahamas and was murdered.
Anyway, I saw this reportage on Tony, and I was sitting at the breakfast table on Sunday morning with my father, and I said “This is what I’m interested in.”
And he said, “You are completely crazy.”
(In the article) Tony was sitting on the throne from the Chapultepec palace surrounded by abalone and mother of pearl and crystal chandeliers on the stage of his studio. His living room was 150 feet long, 28 feet wide, and 28 feet tall, and he was wearing the robes of a cardinal.
And then his wife was standing next to the 18th-century doors from France with the ceiling from the Hearst collection in the house with the tapestry from the Santa Barbara Art Museum. It was just incredible. And the purple brocade sofa that was a gift from Marlene Dietrich. It was a whole thing. I mean amazing, with her jewels and the whole thing.
I quit my school and quit my job that day and went to work for Tony for free for two years, and then he paid me $50 every two weeks for three years. That makes me 21 years old and not very bright.
I asked all my friends, my family friends, “Do you know Tony Duquette?” Everyone knew him, but nobody would introduce me to him. Finally, when I was 17 years old, I had an art teacher and we used to play “Tony Duquette.” “If you were Tony Duquette, how would you do this project?” Just her and me. And, after about two weeks, she put a note in my locker that said “Tony’s looking for volunteers.” I quit my school and quit my job that day and went to work for Tony for free for two years, and then he paid me $50 every two weeks for three years. That makes me 21 years old and not very bright.
Then he offered me $5 an hour. I said, “I think I can do better on my own.” I opened my own business. Jimmy Carter was in the White House; 20 percent inflation. I saw French furniture go from $500 to $5,000 overnight.
I had money and so we started buying real estate in a partnership. You know, for every dollar I put in, he put in a dollar. And we owned a lot of office buildings and apartment houses, things like that. We did a couple of house flips. We’re not so good at it because we tend to overspend when we’re decorating. (laughs)
And that’s how I met Tony Duquette, and a dream came true. And we were together for 28 years, working. We did so many projects! We worked in Paris, we did a 12th-century palazzo in Venice, we worked for Norton Simon, J. Paul Getty, the Duchess of Windsor, Doris Duke, the Vanderbilts, the Rockefellers, all the great fortunes.
JH: Can you tell us a little bit about Tony Duquette Inc.?
HW: Tony Duquette Inc. is mostly an interior design business. We make a collection of one-of-a-kind jewelry in 18-karat gold with precious and semi-precious stones which we sell through trunk shows across the nation. It’s like a very expensive hobby for me. I’m a little bit lazy about selling it because it’s rare. And it is all for sale, I just don’t get around to it very much.
But decorating is great. We’re working all over the world. I have projects in Thailand; I’ve just finished a big house in Paris last year; I’ve got another one coming up in Paris at the end of this year; I’m working in Boston, a fabulous property, 60 acres, outside of Boston on the Charles River; and I’ve got a lot of work in Palm Beach. We also have projects in Los Angeles. New York is a great place for decorating and I have a lot of great projects and clients there. So, we just keep moving and I’m kind of like Mario Buatta. I don’t know if you know that designer, but he was a great friend of mine and a great designer. He had no employees. I have no employees. I do it all by myself. (I) just do it and it gets done and everyone’s happy.
A room tells you what it wants to be. The problem is a lot of people don’t listen.
I also do parties, and we’ve always done parties. Tony would spend $365,000 in the ‘60s for decorations. Now we get about $1 million for decorations, and I know people who are spending much more than that, but it’s almost enough money to do a good job. (laughs)
JH: So, which came first: the jewelry or the interior design?
HW: Interior design came first. We always had a passion for jewelry. I was always designing jewelry for my wife. Tony was making jewelry all the time. His first necklace was for the Duchess of Windsor, and I found the bill. It was $850 and it sold at Sotheby’s for $250,000.
He had friends who would give him an old diamond bracelet or something and he’d remodel it. I don’t think he ever charged them any money. It wasn’t until 1995 that we actually made a business out of it.
JH: The first customer for Tony Duquette’s jewelry was the Duchess of Windsor? With such a high starting point, who would you say you’re making jewelry for today?
HW: Ah, well my customer is a lady who is possibly an executive, possibly owns her own business, possibly has received a big bonus from her job, or doesn’t have to ask her husband for permission. Because the minute a husband gets involved, it’s always a disaster. They want to know the karat weight, and they want to know this and they want to know that.
My jewelry has a history of selling at auction for more than retail. And my jewelry is not inexpensive; it’s unfortunate. But it’s made in America, it’s an entirely American product. I’d like to keep it that way but the prices have gone skyrocketing now that gold and labor is so expensive, but I have no intention of changing the way that it’s manufactured.
JH: Where do you find the inspiration for creating these individual pieces of jewelry?
HW: Well, the inspiration in making jewelry comes from the stones. The stones tell you what they want to be. It’s like a room. A room tells you what it wants to be. The problem is a lot of people don’t listen. You have to hear it, and then you have to act on it. And the same with the stones. The stones tell you whether they want to be a ring, they want to be a bracelet, they want to be a necklace, they want to be something. And they want to be paired with something else.
I can’t just do a diamond on a chain. That doesn’t interest me in the slightest.
I’m a color person, but I make really great beige jewelry. I can use smoky quartz and petrified palm tree and all kinds of things and make great beige jewelry. But my beige rooms… my idea of beige (in decoration) is coral.
JH: How do you feel crafting individual pieces of jewelry compares to mass-produced jewelry?
HW: I’m neither a gemologist nor a jeweler, so I (employ) one of the great jewelers. When I was 17 working with Tony Duquette, he was 17 working with David Webb, one of the great American designers.
I said to him one day, “Why is my jewelry different from everyone else’s? He said, “Because when they make their jewelry, like a mass-produced piece, let’s just say, it’s cut on a machine and it’s a straight line. Your straight lines are like this.” (gestures indicating an uneven cut) Because it’s all hand-done, not just, like, sliced with a knife or blade or whatever.
I think things that people have touched, antique furniture that people have sat on, mirrors in which people have looked at their reflections for centuries; these things have soul. They have human energy. They have energy in them. And that’s why these rooms (at Dawnridge) also have a vibration of something great happening in them.
There’s nothing better than the glamor of one-of-a-kind decoration, things that are made for you. The only thing rich people have left to them is to have things made for them, whether it’s a dress, a car, a sofa. And in the old days that’s what they wanted. They didn’t want to be like everyone else. Everyone was an individual.
I think things that people have touched, antique furniture that people have sat on, mirrors in which people have looked at their reflections for centuries; these things have soul. They have human energy.
What’s happened to the individuality in this country? In the old days, everyone wanted something just for them, that only they had. If you look around this house, even though I make mass-produced fabric for Jim Thompson and things like that, I challenge you to figure out where (all the contents) came from. Because it’s antiques, it’s things that we’ve made. Like the sofa over there from Doris Duke. When she died I bought it back because it was designed for her by us, and it’s a great piece that I now reproduce by Pearson Furniture.
JH: Does pouring so much of yourself into a single piece of jewelry feel creatively exhausting to you after a time?
HW: Actually, creativity exhilarates me. I’m totally alive in the middle of something creative. I’ve been so fortunate with my clients. They hire me because they want what I have to offer. They’re not there to tell me what to do. You lose respect for people who pay you an enormous amount of money and then tell you exactly how they want it. You know, “I really wanted blue” and you’re almost like a prostitute! “Okay, so I’m going to do it blue when it should be pink, but I’ll do what you’re asking me to do because you paid me.”
The jewelry is another thing. I make what I want and, hopefully, someone’s going to like it. It’s a big gamble, but if you make it, someone will show up. It may sit on the shelf for 10 years, but someone will show up! And again, my clients don’t even really like to tell people where they got it, because they want it just for themselves. It’s a one of a kind piece but they don’t even want to share me with their girlfriends.
JH: The jewelry pieces that you’re creating today under the Tony Duquette banner as well as the pieces he’s created over the decades look like they’re from the past and a utopian future simultaneously. Do you feel like these pieces connect you to the future or the past, or are you transcending time when you’re creating these pieces?
HW: Well, I always felt that Tony Duquette’s work was 10 years ahead of its time. I always thought it was futuristic.
My jewelry is inspired by old films, actually. It’s inspired by old black-and-white films. I live for old black-and-white films. But it’s big and bold and rich and it is futuristic.It’s more modern than modern. And it’s constantly evolving. I don’t know if it evolves backward or forward, but it doesn’t really matter as long as it makes me happy and hopefully makes someone else happy.
Jewelry is great because it’s only given in love, it’s only given in friendship. It’s never given because “I hate you, here’s a diamond ring.” And my jewelry is not a diamond. A diamond on a finger: that’s gemology. My stuff is design. And the history of American jewelry design is not about the quality of the stones, even though my stones are quite good. It’s about the design; the workmanship.
My jewelry is architectural really. Everything looks like domes and buildings.
I had a one-man exhibition at the GIA – The Gemological Institute of America. It went on for like six or eight months. They said it was the best and most highly attended exhibition they ever had. And I said, “Well how are the stones?” Because I’m not a gemologist. “Did you like the stones?” They said, “Your stones are great.” So, I haven’t been sold any Coke bottles yet saying they are emeralds. (laugh)
But the jewelry, it feeds my soul. I can’t just do a diamond on a chain. That doesn’t interest me in the least. My stuff is very complicated and the color palate, the different colors I mix together, is interesting. I have customers who own as many as 150 pieces. I had my darling friends John and Dodie Rosekrans, both of them now deceased, but he bought 15 necklaces in one sitting. He could have bought an office building. (laughs)
JH: Is there a unifying thread connecting the interior design and jewelry aspects of Tony Duquette Inc?
HW: Yes. You know, jewelry is a decorative art and I’m a decorative artist. Tony Duquette was a real, honest-to-god artist. He was a painter, a sculptor, he designed furniture, and… everything; he designed everything! He called himself an “artist designer”.
When he died, I inherited his books and I realized that all of his books were about fine art. All of my books are about architecture and decorative art. I’m not only a decorative artist but I’m almost a decorative historian. And so, jewelry is a decorative art and we always say, “The chandelier is the jewelry in the room.” So, yeah, there is a lot of correlation between jewelry and interiors and architecture and all of that. My jewelry is architectural really. Everything looks like domes and buildings.
JH: Do you feel that being aware of modern trends in interior design is helpful to your work, or does it distract from the purity of your vision?
HW: I love modern architecture. All of it. I love modern design. However, I’m the first designer that the New York Times called a “maximalist” as opposed to a minimalist. I am not a minimalist designer.
I’m not drawn to have a room or a house all one style. I like to mix it up. I’ll put very modern things in with very antique things and very comfortable things with very uncomfortable things. (laughs) The worst thing a house can be is boring. That is the worst thing you can say about a house.
It should be unpredictable. My design, I hope, is unpredictable. You need to be surprised. A lot of people don’t understand that. They want it to be predictable, and they want their neighbors to be happy. Well, fine, if that’s what you want. I mean are you decorating for yourself or are you decorating for (your neighbors)?
We all have taste. Whether I think your taste is good taste or bad taste doesn’t matter, it’s your taste. We all have it. We must express it! Express it through the way you dress, the way you entertain, through the way your house looks, through your car. Whatever it is, express your personality! People are so scared to express themselves these days. I don’t know what the problem is. Where are the characters? There are no characters! There’s no outlandish behavior. There’s nothing amusing anymore. It’s very sad.
JH: Can you explore your “more is more” design philosophy with us?
HW: It’s all about layering. You can’t just paint a wall pink. You have to paint a wall pink, then you have to hang a tapestry on the wall, then you have to put a big nail through the tapestry and hang a painting by, I don’t know, Rauschenberg or someone like that. You have to layer it. You can have wall-to-wall carpeting, and then put Oriental carpets on top of it. You can have… look at this (gestures at Dawnridge), we have a Mylar ceiling and then we have lattice and then we have chandeliers and then there’s a sunburst and then, you know, it’s just one thing after the other. It’s all about layering.
The worst thing a house can be is boring. That is the worst thing you can say about a house.
That doesn’t mean it has to be cluttered. It doesn’t mean it has to be fussy, but it should be interesting. Tony Duquette used to say “The enemy is the least common denominator.” And the worst thing would be the plain white of the refrigerator door. And you go to these people’s houses and they’re all white. Well, that took a lot of talent! (laughs)
The best one was this young couple. I laid out everything I wanted to do with this fabulous house; they had the most fabulous house. And the woman comes in with her husband and says, “Do you see this? Do you see what he’s doing? Do you understand what this is? This is color. This is real color. Do you get it? Do you understand what he’s doing here?” And under his breath, this young guy, he said, “Well, gray is a color, isn’t it?” Oh my god. (laughs) So, yeah, that’s one of those problems. (laughs)
JH: What do you think of collaborating with clients?
HW: Collaboration with clients is always a great thing, but having them trust you completely is a greater thing. I’ve been so fortunate to have incredibly wonderful clients who just say “Do it.” And they go away, and I do it! And it’s always successful, and they like it!
I had a client, a very clever lawyer, and he said, “This is what I want…” And he wanted this, that, and the other thing. And I said “Fine” and I drew a picture and said “Here it is. This is exactly what you asked for. And here is what I would do.” And I made two pictures. And he said “Well, I’m going to do what you do because I’m paying you for your expertise. If I wanted this, I’d do it myself.” So he was smart. It’s so often that they kind of think they know more than you do, which is fine, you know. Maybe they do. But then they shouldn’t hire me, or anyone else of that level.
But I always collaborate. If they don’t want black, then I show them something else. But they’ll always come back to black, even if they don’t want it. (laughs) They’ll say, “Actually, you were right the first time! Let’s paint it black.” It’s just the way it is.
JH: Are there any stand-out interior design projects you’d feel comfortable sharing with us?
HW: All of them! All of my interior design projects have been memorable. All of them have been for fabulous, wonderfully nice people.
The house in Paris was beyond fantastic. The lady said when it was published in Town & Country, “These two guys” (that was Tony and me) “were so amazing. They measured every inch of this apartment, got it all done, got it all made, and it just fit like bam!” The walls were covered with 18th-century embroidered mughal, Indian embroidery, set with precious and semi-precious stones. I mean, it was something unbelievable, that house! All with gold thread.
Tony was very hands-on, very artisanal almost. He made everything with his own hands and glued it all together. I’m always trying to figure out a way to do it without glue.
I had another client; I did two apartments for them in Wilshire Terrace. (The second of the two) they said they wanted to look like a Venetian palace. So that’s like 8-foot ceilings and this is Wilshire Terrace; it’s ridiculous! So, anyway, they went to Venice and they came back and they knocked on the door, and I opened the door, and I said, “Before you come in, the question is Grand Canal or Ganges?” (laughs) So, the front of the house looked like the Grand Canal and the back of the house looked like a houseboat in Kashmir. It was fantastic.
The Palazzo in Venice: I can’t tell you how much fun that was to be in Venice for 8 months. It was published in Town & Country and Vogue. I don’t think Tony Duquette ever asked anyone if they had a budget. I always say, “What’s your budget?” And then we do it. You do it on time and on budget. So the Palazzo in Venice, we did it on time and on budget, and then the lady said, “Do you want to go for a walk?”
And I said, “Yeah, let’s go for a walk” (in Venice).
She said, “Where would you want to go?”
And I said “Have you ever been to Codognato?”
And she said, “No, what is it?”
I said, “It’s one of the greatest jewelers in Europe.”
So she said, “Well, let’s go there.”
And I said, “Well, I’ve never been inside. I’ve been to dinner at his house but I’ve never been inside, because I’m too scared to go inside. It’s like looking at the green vaults in Dresden. The windows are just so amazing.”
So, she said, “Well, let’s go.”
So we go in and Attilio Codognato came out and I introduced him to my client because we knew each other. I want to get the ball rolling, so I said, “Well, let me see the coral and emerald jewel up there.” And he put it in my hand and she was sitting next to me and she took it and put it in her purse. And I said, “Well, let me see the pearl and diamond one up there” and he puts it in my hand and then she takes it and puts it in her purse. And I said, “Well, that’s enough; got that conversation started.”
So, anyway, two hours later, we left that store in dead silence. We walked for about two blocks in dead silence. And I finally said, “You know, you’ve just spent more money in two hours than you spent on the entire Palazzo.”
And she said, “I know.”
And I said, “My problem is: I did it on time and on budget. If I’d shown you things outside of the budget, you would have bought them, wouldn’t you?”
And she said, “I probably would.” And so, you know, learn a lesson every day, but I don’t want to struggle with people over money. I’d rather just do the work.
JH: Is there a modern interior design trend that you can’t wait to see go away?
HW: Open floor plan, that’s a good one. That paint-everything-white thing; let’s see that go away fast. And restoration hardware: they should find a place to… go elsewhere. (laughs)
That apartment in Paris was in an old building, 15-foot ceilings, fantastic building. A developer had gotten a hold of it six years ago, taken everything French out of it, every molding, every chandelier, every fireplace, every parquet floor. Anything French was out of there. They took down walls. They painted it all white. It was open floor plan, modern kitchen. Hideous! You could have had human sacrifice on that island in the center. It was terrible!
Collaboration with clients is always a great thing, but having them trust you completely is a greater thing.
My clients bought it, and I had the pictures of it, and I drew it as an 18th-century interior, and, you know, boiseries and the whole thing. And they said, “That’s exactly what we want. You’re right on our wavelength. This is what we want.” So, I bought 18th-century rooms and shoved them into the spaces and made everything work.
And this is the best part: there were these three-foot-by-12-foot-high openings, and I had to put doors in them. And any normal person would have put one three-foot door that opened and closed, but I had to have a foot-and-a-half-by-a-foot-and-a-half-by-12-foot. So the guy who was in charge of all this boiserie said, “You know, Mr. Wilkinson, I’m very concerned about the proportions because these doors that you wanted me to get are not typical French proportions. I don’t think it’s going to look good. I think we should just put in the door.”
And I said, “No, let me tell you something. We’ve been doing this for years in Hollywood. It’s called Hollywood Regency. Just do it. You’re going to love it.”
So, he did it. And he brought his whole office and architects, he brought the whole group into the house to see it. And he said “From now on, these are our new proportions. We’re only going to do doors that are a foot-and-a-half-by-12-foot.” So, I took that open floorplan thing and demolished it right there in that house and made it just gorgeous.
JH: Did it feel like you were coming home when you bought Dawnridge?
HW: No, because I’d known the property for already 28 years before I bought it. (Tony Duquette) built it in 1949. He didn’t move back in until about 1972. And it was a very private place. He had parties at his studio, which was amazing; like a Venetian palace down on Robertson Boulevard, between Santa Monica and Keith Avenue. It’s still there. It was a silent film studio built for Norma Talmadge by Joe Schenck, her boyfriend. In the old days, a lot of the stars had their own studios.
I was in the house since 1972 for eight hours a day sometimes, so it wasn’t coming home to anything. I used to say to Tony, “Why don’t you show your own work?” And he didn’t have an answer. And I think he thought that if he was surrounded by very valuable things, which he was, that people would think he was rich. But he was rich. He was rich because he had invested in real estate.
Even in my own house, I love to look around and say “Where did all of this stuff come from?” It’s like I’m searching for inner peace through materialism.
When I had the sale with Christie’s after he died, I had to sell all the 17th-, 18th-, and 19th-century antiques to pay the heirs and the government as the executor of the estate. A chair sold for like $150,000 to the Peabody Museum. A mirror sold for $250,000. Paintings sold for $950,000. But I wanted to show his own work here, and his wife’s work, and I was able to do that. And I’m still buying things back.
JH: What was your first impression of Beverly Hills?
HW: My father was in the first graduating class of Beverly Hills High School, and they had a house on Alpine Drive, which they built before the Depression. My grandfather had to keep the house just to prop up my grandmother’s prestige. I mean, they couldn’t afford it, but they kept it until she died and then they sold it at once. But Beverly Hills is absolutely the dream come true.
JH: Has your impression of Beverly Hills changed at all over the decades?
HW: I think it’s the one place that hasn’t changed. Now, that’s maybe a broad statement. Are they tearing down some of the most beautiful houses ever built to build ugly houses? Yes. I wish they had some preservation here. Take the Lucille Ball house for example. The guys tore it down and rebuilt it exactly as it was. Well, it’s not exactly as it was. I mean, you can’t get that kind of workmanship anymore.
JH: Dawnridge is definitely the most exotic headquarters we’ve seen for any kind of business. Do you feel that it inspires you creatively to work out of Dawnridge? Or does it distract you?
HW: No, at Dawnridge I’m never distracted. Dawnridge is always motivational. It’s always exhilarating. And it’s always eye-opening. I see new things all the time, and I’ve been hanging around here for the last… how many years? Almost 40 years! Even in my own house, I love to look around and say “Where did all of this stuff come from?” It’s like I’m searching for inner peace through materialism. I bought all of this stuff and I have no idea where it came from or when I bought it! But it’s there, and it materialized. Things tend to materialize. It’s interesting.
JH: Is there ever a risk of your ideas outpacing the space afforded by Dawnridge?
HW: No, I don’t think so. I hope not! My ideas won’t ever outpace the space. But I think we’ve sort of done it. You’re not going to see very much change. In the old days, the drawing room had sofas and chairs and coffee tables and all that stuff and a carpet on the floor. I took it all out to make it more like a gallery or an entrance hall. Right now I’m liking it empty, like a ballroom.
Tony was able to make burlap look like velvet and he was equally at home with solid gold or gold paper.
JH: You’ve made efforts to keep new creations within that recognizable Tony Duquette style. As someone he mentored, is it difficult to recognize where his vision ends and yours begins in relation to Dawnridge as we see it today?
HW: We were joined at the hip. When I first went to work for him (laughs) for free, he took me to a house that he did for the Lockheed heiress, Palmer Ducommun, up in Bel-Air. And it was a very modernist house, and when we were done, we got back in the car and he said, “What did you think of the house?”
And I said “I thought it was great.”
He said, “Didn’t you think it was strange?”
I said, “I didn’t think it was strange at all.”
He said, “People think it’s strange.”
And I said, “Well, I didn’t think it was strange.” So we had the same aesthetic. We were like on the same wavelength. So, it’s very hard to know where Tony’s thing ends and Hutton’s begins.
I’m a little more organized and maybe a little more commercial than Tony. Tony was very hands-on, very artisanal almost. He made everything with his own hands and glued it all together. I’m always trying to figure out a way to do it without glue. (laughs) Most of what Tony did, they were all prototypes. They were prototypes for other things.
The new jewelry is all mine. His jewelry is fantastic. But, if you look at it, it’s much smaller, much more delicate. And the materials aren’t as rich. He didn’t have as much money or something. He didn’t get the big stones, let’s put it that way. But his jewelry was amazing. Mine has taken it up a step.
But I think that Tony would be very pleased if he walked through the door right now. I’ve redone it with a lot of finesse and a lot of care. This room didn’t even exist when Tony was here. (People) think it’s decorated by Tony Duquette, so let them, because it is! I mean, the screens are by Tony Duquette, the sofas are by Tony Duquette, the fabrics are Jim Thompson… that’s (my design), but it’s all based on Tony’s aesthetic. It all comes together. (laughs) It’s all one. I mean it’s like John Galliano for Dior or something like that.
JH: You’ve talked about wanting to keep Dawnridge “alive.” How do you continue to breathe life into the property?
HW: I was taken to see the Eames House in Pacific Palisades a million years ago. Twenty years ago. And my friend said to me, “You’ve got to help these people. The grandchildren have inherited this house and they don’t know what to do with it.” So, I go and I see this house and it’s painted like a Mondrian painting on the exterior except it had been bleached white.
I’m driving home totally depressed by this historic house, which is a fabulous place, and finally the light bulb went off, and I called my friend on the car phone (he was driving in front of me) and I said, “Listen, I’ve figured it out. It’s a dead house. The house is dead.”
The same size house, (Dawnridge) is 30 by 30-foot square. Same size property as (Dawnridge). Built the same year as (Dawnridge). And then there were walls of black lacquer that had faded to grey and were all alligatored and horrible and the pillows were all squishy like they were filled with wet sponges or something. And the original Eames chair was faded to beige by the sunlight.
And I said “Well, what is your point of view on this house? If this was Versailles you could take it back to Louis XIV, Louis XV, Louis XVI, or Napoleon.”
“Oh, we want it to look exactly like it was the day the old lady died.”
I said, “Well, it looks like to me that when she died she didn’t have a dime!”
And the linoleum floors were popping up because in those days they didn’t know they were supposed to put down plywood first. They were trying to glue it straight to concrete. And that’s when I said “So how are you going to raise the money for this?”
And they said “Well, we’re going to charge people $10,000 to sleep in the guest room.”
And I said “I’ll give you $20,000 if I don’t have to sleep in the guest room.” It’s just that the spiders must be this big. (holds up hands to indicate saucer-sized spiders) I mean it was the most horrible place.
So, okay, I’m driving home totally depressed by this historic house, which is a fabulous place, and finally the light bulb went off, and I called my friend on the car phone (he was driving in front of me) and I said, “Listen, I’ve figured it out. It’s a dead house. The house is dead.”
Where are the characters? There are no characters! There’s no outlandish behavior. There’s nothing amusing anymore. It’s very sad.
Dawnridge is alive. We have music, we have people, we have food, we move things around as we please. The garden has 2,000 pots in it. We move them whenever we want. We paint things, we cut things in half, we do whatever we want because it’s an alive house and that’s the difference. So, this house is alive, and we’ll just continue living in it and having fun and doing things and, you know, pushing out walls. You know, whatever we can think of that will make it better, or make it more fun, or make us happy.
JH: Do you have a favorite piece of art or furniture in Dawnridge?
HW: At the top of the stairs there are two basreliefs of Chinese chinoiserie and I’ve had myself photographed in those positions by Stephen Arnold way back in the old days. He’s no longer with us. They’re kind of surrealistic pictures and, if there was a fire, I’d probably take those two basreliefs. They’re the least valuable things in the whole house, but, you know.
JH: What’s a Hutton Wilkinson party like?
HW: The minute you walk through the door, everyone is friends no matter if you’ve ever met them or not. And if anyone comes in with attitude, they’re not invited back. Ever. So, everyone has a good time, and hopefully, they dress up. We love to dress up, and we like to eat, and we like to dance, and there’s lots of candlelight, and waiters are all dressed up with turbans with feathers in them, and sometimes we use three houses. So, we’ll have cocktails in my house next door, then we come out and have dinner in the garden, and then we come up (to Dawnridge) and have dancing up here.
JH: Would you say that Dawnridge is a product of its time? By that, I mean would it be possible for an artist to create something like this today?
HW: Well, I think it’s a product of its time because Dawnridge the house is so small. In the old days, people had five-foot-by-five-foot bathrooms, which we have. They had little bedrooms. All these giant… I call them Tusceranian Villas… are too huge. I’ve worked on a lot of them, and the people don’t even know what they’re going to do with all that room.
And I was hired for many years just looking at blueprints of $5 million houses back when that was a lot of money, 12,000 square foot houses, to see what’s wrong with them. What’s wrong with this design?
And I’d say to the people, “How are you going to come down the stairs and greet your guests in a chiffon dress?”
And they’d say “What guests?”
And I’d say “Well, how is the butler going to get from the kitchen to the living room to serve the hors d’oeuvres to your guests?”
“What butler?”
I’d say, “You’re not going to have a butler? How are your guests going to get from the dining room table to the disco which is over there?”
“What guests?” (laughs)
“Why are you building a disco if you don’t have guests?”
“Well, because we had the room, so we thought ‘Let’s have a disco.’”
Well, let’s face facts, the best American investment, correct me if I’m wrong, is real estate. It just hasn’t failed anybody.
These houses are all too big, and they’re ridiculous, and they don’t make you seem any richer or more sophisticated. Look at this charming little house (gestures at Dawnridge). I don’t need a big house. I hate a house that has one room too many. Next door, I have one room too many. It’s being used for storage, so I guess it’s not one room too many. But it is.
JH: I read an anecdote about a friend of Tony Duquette’s telling him that his genius was in real estate.
HW: Tony made plenty of money, but you can never make enough, so you’re always thinking, “Why did they hire him instead of me?”
And so he was bitching to his friend, Bill Roth of the Matson steamship company, who owned Ghirardelli Square, and he said “You know, Bill, with all of my genius, the only thing that’s made me any money is my real estate.”
And Bill Roth said “That was your genius.” (laughs)
And it was! It was his genius because it gave Tony the ability to do anything he wanted.
JH: Do you feel like, if it wasn’t for that genius, Dawnridge would be here today? Do you think it was reliant on him being so savvy with real estate that he ended up with this one-of-a-kind property?
HW: Well, let’s face facts, the best American investment, correct me if I’m wrong, is real estate. It just hasn’t failed anybody. The stock market is so volatile. We’ve seen dips in real estate too, but still. I personally like commodities, so land is a good commodity, but I like copper and cement and steel and things like that. Gold is always good.
Tony would have had exactly the same life without having invested in real estate. He just might have been poorer. (laughs) He called himself a do-it-yourself Medici. He did it all himself. It didn’t cost any money. He just did it. For our clients, we have to use fine workmanship and fine materials. But Tony was able to make burlap look like velvet and he was equally at home with solid gold or gold paper. It’s all about lighting; it’s how you light it.
JH: Do you feel like Dawnridge is complete?
HW: No, I’m always thinking of putting a third floor on it. (laughs) I’ve always wanted to build a big ballroom, and I had the plans for it, but the city wanted me to push it back and that would have been incorrect proportions on the exterior of the house. And I said, “I’m not going to build something wrong, ugly, just because you don’t want me to have this bump on the front of the house which is already there.” The bump is already there! But they wanted me to push it back.
I mean, live lavishly in a one-room apartment if you have to, but live lavishly.
So, no, there’s so much more we can do. There’s an empty lot over on the other side; I could build a whole house there if I wanted to. And my house, which I consider part of the same property, I can build a big ballroom over there too. (laughs) I like a ballroom. Or a library… something!
JH: In a perfect world, what would be your ideal future for Dawnridge?
HW: Right this minute, I’m trying to give it away to a university or some kind of institution that will take care of it. I’ve contacted many institutions and there’s one that I think wants it, but they also want a $20 million endowment… and I just spent it. (laughs)
JH: Would you want it to be retained exactly as it is?
HW: I think that would be a good idea. One of the great museums in America is the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. She was a rich woman, and in her will, she said “It must stay exactly the way it is the day I die.” And so the day she died, there was a cup of tea, some glasses, and a rotting banana, and that’s what’s there today. It’s exactly the way she left it, and it’s great. That is one of the greatest examples of a very personal decoration. If she wanted to hang a painting halfway on the wall and halfway in front of a window, she did, and it’s just fantastic.
JH: What advice would you give to someone who wants to live lavishly but feels like it’s beyond their means?
HW: It’s not. That’s all there is to it. You just have to be clever. You have to be really clever. And just follow your gut. Listen, there’s so much available to us now on the internet and everything else that it’s not an impossibility. Just don’t try doing it in a 12,000-square-foot house. I mean, live lavishly in a one-room apartment if you have to, but live lavishly. I can show you examples of that. I had a very poor artist but we decorated his house and his house looked like a palace. It’s all smoke and mirrors.
