The renowned architecture and design studio has captivated the design world for the past two decades with its bold, fearlessly eclectic vision, embodying old money aesthetic by seamlessly marrying unexpected styles and textures across eras. Among Dimorestudio’s many creations are rich, layered interiors and dramatic scenographies.
AD was invited into its ever-evolving Milan HQ, where surrounded by opulent furnishings by 20th-century masters and their own designs, the design duo behind the studio: Emiliano Salci and Britt Moran, composed a typical arrangement of iconic jewels and timepieces evoking old money aesthetic. Here, we talk about their history, and how the concept of time influences their work.
AD: What does the word “home” or “dwelling” mean to you?
Emiliano Salci: If we say “residence”, we all think of an ancient, aristocratic, sumptuous house. But in Latin, the word “dwelling” derives from the verb morari, which means “to stay”, and therefore the dwelling is a place that invites us to stay and spend time. Here, we create homes, and we choose and design furnishings and fabrics that have the strength to “hold us”, and to retain the light of the time in which they were born.
AD: In the minimal Milan of the early noughties, you proposed colour, and instead of the usual showroom, you opened up your home in Via Solferino. What prompted that?
ES: Ours was a home studio; during Salone del Mobile, guests could experience first-hand the atmosphere and system of our style, which always arises from encounters with different eras. For us, it is natural to mix a 19th-century object with a piece by Vico Magistretti, or one by a less famous author. Also, at the origin of each project, there are our different characters: I love decadence, but Britt is more “exact”, more scientific, more Goethean; in fact, he studied chemistry and loves literature and travel.
Britt Moran: Mixing different eras is very Italian. Indeed, I would say that Italian taste is knowing and valorising every layer of time. When I first arrived in Italy for my “Grand Tour” as a 20-year-old, I was fascinated by the gold leaf on 14th-century altarpieces. This layer of gold is a symbol of precious manual skill, of attention that becomes a working method and culture.
ES: Britt chose the keyword – culture. And I would add an adjective: culture must always be personal, because it means finding one’s own masters, from every era. Britt is American and studied in Edinburgh. I was born in Arezzo and if I have to remember my two teachers, I would say Piero della Francesca and his frescoes in the Bacci Chapel, and Beppe Angiolini and his Sugar boutique. Some pinks and blues in our works come from Piero, while the sense of time passing and being loved, or feared for that matter, comes from Beppe. I think of the peeling walls of his shop. I think of a pile of broken chairs and a Romeo Gigli dress on top. No one had done anything like this before him. At 13, I ran away from school to see the shop’s windows. We became friends like that.
BM: A few weeks ago we purchased a 16th-century painting, an oval with the Madonna and a wonderful child, but in reality what struck us was the texture of the canvas. You can see the jute is so worn. Beautiful.
ES: This is to say that our style lays bare the textures and structures of time, which then means discussing memory and roots. Either you know where Gio Ponti’s culture comes from, and therefore you are able to imagine his world and know how to make his world a part of yours, or else Ponti is just an expensive piece placed in a living room.
Britt Moran: In fact, we do not reconstruct an era, we are not citationists. We interpret, and in this way, we also insert errors, and temporal gaps, which are always desired.
AD: What era inspires you the most right now?
ES: The 1960s, that sophisticated snobbery, placing a painting by Lucio Fontana on the floor, an Andy Warhol. Those were years of nonchalance even in precious things, there was a rebellious and always elegant air, a bit like Yves Saint Laurent. Anyone who has breathed this air, perhaps in their family, still lives it today. I think of a party in Pantelleria, the women with diamonds and evening dresses, then at a certain point Charlotte Gainsbourg arrives in jeans and a cream-coloured cashmere sweater, in August. She was the chicest because she didn’t care about everything.
BM: To Emiliano’s 1960s I would add Milan’s 2000s. This city has never been so beautiful as it was then, when we met. There were still the old shops, maybe a linen shop in Via Monte Napoleone, a little bar in the Garibaldi area where we would go to drink a glass of red wine; I still remember the columns with the mirrors. Now the city has been drained of its little jewels.
