Dictators don’t care if their homes are Instagrammable; they have no appetite for hygge or minimalism or starchitect-designed green buildings; they don’t even really give a shit about antiques. Instead, they reside in ferocious, claustrophobic tributes to their power—the representation of force is their only aesthetic concern. Peter York, who literally wrote the book on “dictator chic,” offers a few insights: “Fascinated by the question of what makes dictators’ houses so recognizably similar, I spent months poring over pictures—from across the continents, from the end of the nineteenth century to the beginning of the twenty-first … Dictators might work in the grand styles of earlier centuries, but they don’t usually use old materials and furniture. Everything is brand spanking new. Old styles add gravitas, but antiques themselves are too faded and shabby … Dictators’ homes aren’t for one’s family, friends or private self; they’re not a refuge from the world or the job. Dictators’ homes, in fact, are the job—a place to do business, harangue people and settle scores, all while one’s entourage stays nearby. They are an architectural and artistic means of establishing the power of the occupants, of intimidating and impressing any visitor.”
This and more in today’s culture roundup.
(Image: Ben Baker/Redux)
