As Donald Trump begins renovations on The White House, which involves tearing down the building's east wing to make way for a brand new ballroom, we are left reflecting on the history of this most recognisable monument. We all have a picture of what the White House looks like now, but it hasn’t always looked this way; so, what did it used to look like, and how did it get to where it is today?
The early years: from humble beginnings to the blaze
America’s first president George Washington never actually lived in the White House. It was America’s second president John Adams who moved into the newly-built “President’s House” (as it was called back then in November of 1800). Although stately, it was in Mrs Adams’ words “vastly deficient in furniture.” In fact, it was so empty that Mrs Adams famously used the East Room—a grand room intended for hosting lavish banquets—as a laundry room with the Adams’ clothes hung out to dry on a line that stretched across the entire space. Unlike the Washingtons, the Adamses weren’t especially wealthy, meaning the money to decorate the home came mostly from Congress. A year later, guests stated that the furnishings were ‘by no means sufficient,’ and that the grandest of rooms were completely empty. Thomas Jefferson himself was shocked that a sizeable amount of the furniture dated from President Washington’s collection. When Jefferson became president in 1801, he retained Washington’s furniture out of respect, but also used money provided by Congress to furnish the President’s House with pieces from Baltimore and Philadelphia. Subsequently, James and Dolley Madison also added their share of furnishings, particularly pieces for entertaining: most notably an especially large dining table for hosting grand dinner parties. However, all the efforts put forth by the three principal residents of the President’s House were, in the end, for nothing as the War of 1812 broke out between the United States and Great Britain. Tragically, in 1814, British forces captured and burned Washington, leaving the President’s House in charred ruins.
The French taste: a new spirit for a new house
Just a few months after the fateful blaze, President Madison made the decision to rebuild the White House. In 1817, the White House was officially ready to be inhabited once again—just in time for the inauguration of James Monroe. Under Monroe, the freshly built interiors were given a new look and feel altogether: the French taste. One reason for this implementation would have been the fact that Monroe served as the American minister to France from 1794 to 1796 and then from 1803 to 1807 to negotiate the Louisiana Purchase treaty. There, Monroe and his wife Elizabeth hosted legendary soirees in their well-decorated Parisian house—now a pizzeria. However, the choice of French furnishings reached far beyond the Monroes’ tenure in France; the use of furniture from France held a significant amount of symbolism. France was such a strong ally during the American Revolution: a fact that America had certainly not forgotten. Still, the significance goes deeper than allyship and gratitude. Like America, France had recently departed from a monarchy to begin a new era as a republic. As power changed from the monarchy into the hands of Napoleon, France’s taste regarding interiors changed, as well; the extravagant styles associated with the Ancien Régime were out, and the new style that evoked equality, republicanism, and comparative simplicity was in. Napoleon’s own propaganda aside, pieces with motifs such as oak branches, laurel leaves, Roman helmets, and eagles were used as parts of the Directoire and Empire styles to conjure feelings of civic virtue and strength; sentiments The United States of America certainly related to as a new nation. Also, let’s be honest—do you really think Americans wanted to decorate their most important home in the English manner after the recent arson incident? So, there stood the White House, nearly 4000 miles from Paris, proudly filled with bergères, fauteuils, chaises, and tabourets by Napoleon’s famed French ébéniste Pierre-Antoine Bellangé—most notably in the Blue Room.
Hey, big spenders: the eras of excess
From 1829 to 1837, the seventh president Andrew Jackson famously spent more than twice of his allotted budget for redecorating. He purchased furniture and decorative objects of the highest quality, as the East Room, an important space for entertaining distinguished visitors, was sparsely decorated when he was elected to office. Antoine-Gabriel Quervelle, a French-born cabinetmaker based in Philadelphia, was his primary furniture maker of choice, as he was trained in Napoleonic France and drew heavily upon the drawings of English cabinetmaker George Smith. After all, it’s not technically English furniture if made by a Frenchman on American soil. Top-of-the-line glassware was ordered from Pittsburgh’s Bakewell, Page, and Bakewell, while extensive silver objects and services were imported from France and made by the likes of prominent silversmith Martin-Guillaume Biennais. Martin Van Buren, Jackson’s successor, continued this trend of overspending, earning the nickname the “Prince of Democracy,” as a visitor of the White House famously said that Van Buren had, “fitted up the President’s house in princely stile.” Guests recounted copious amounts of gold and silver, large chandeliers, and ‘rich cut’ glassware, while the furniture was modeled after designs of the French Restauration—the style that was affiliated with the restoration of the monarchy. Scenes reminiscent of royal splendour were perhaps not the best PR moves for a house intended for the leader of a republic, and this sentiment certainly did not go unvoiced. Pennsylvania Congressman Charles Ogle, a supporter of Van Buren’s opponent William Henry Harrison, called the White House a “palace as splendid as that of the Caesars,” with its, “glittering and dazzling saloons…” and “splendours of a monarch’s court.” Harrison was eventually elected, but he passed away one month into office. John Tyler, Harrison’s successor, was presented with such limited funds after the recent administrations’ spending sprees that his wife Julia Gardiner was rumoured to have used her own family’s funds to refurbish the house.
Following the trends: a new style after a series of revivals
In America, revival styles dominated the mid-to-late 19th century—even in the White House. While the Gothic Revival was largely overlooked within the White House (except for a cast-iron bench commissioned by Millard Fillmore), the Rococo Revival was a style that lingered throughout a few presidential tenures. Heavily inspired by the forms of Louis XV, it contrasted greatly with the cleaner, more linear French taste of the previous administrations. The Rococo Revival may have had the s-scrolls and naturalistic elements of the original Rococo of the 18th century, but it was much heavier and lacked the sense of organic fluidity so often affiliated with the Rococo. Rococo Revival furniture was a way of showing American industry and technological advancements, as it was mostly formed via the lamination and steam molding of rosewood: ideal for the middle class via mass production. There was clearly a new way of decorating the White House; one that was less about symbolic messages and palatial tendencies, and one that was more about going with the trends.
Elected in 1849, Zachary Taylor was the first president to decorate in a more subdued ‘French’ style that was inching toward full-blown Rococo Revival, followed by Millard Fillmore. James Buchanan, elected in 1857, brought about Rococo Revival in its full glory—even adding a gilded interpretation of the style to the Blue Room, which was previously decorated in the more Napoleonic fashion. The Lincolns famously went all out when it was their turn to decorate in the still-fashionable Rococo Revival, attracting lots of (fair) negative sentiments regarding overspending in the middle of a Civil War. Although most of the pieces bought during this era did not survive due to changing tastes and years of wear-and-tear, one can still find the Rococo Revival of the Lincoln administration (including the Lincoln Bed and a table by Rococo Revival stalwart John Henry Belter) in the Lincoln Bedroom—a space previously used by Abraham Lincoln as an office.
When Ulysses S. Grant took to office in 1869, another revival style was implemented: the Renaissance Revival. Perhaps the most eclectic of all the revivals, the Renaissance Revival included three major elements. The first of which was from 16th-century France, with its Baroque cartouches and forms of both humans and animals. The second was Louis XVI with its fluted legs and gilded rosettes, as Empress Eugénie, Napoleon the III’s trendsetting wife, was fascinated by Marie Antoinette. The third was the Neo-Grec, which drew upon the classical stylistic language gleamed from ancient Greece, Rome, and Egypt. In other words, the Renaissance Revival was a complete mess and it's not surprising that this style was short-lived, only producing a handful of pieces still used by more recent administrations (including the ‘Grant Cabinet Table’ favoured by Bill Clinton).
After decades of rehashing pre-existing forms and combining them to make Franken-styles, it was time for a new look, and this new look was the Aesthetic Movement. Originating in England in the 1860s, the Aesthetic Movement rejected the series of revivals that came before it. Instead of subscribing to the revivalist notions of historic forms and their associated moral ideals, the Aesthetes had one main philosophy: art for art’s sake. In today’s language, that roughly translates to “you do you.” Of course, like any style, the Aesthetic Movement did come with prescribed elements, such as global motifs, bamboo furniture made popular in America by Commodore Perry’s return from Japan, the use of peacocks, black and spindly furniture, and the heavy use of teal and sage green—all elements that Chester Arthur most strongly employed during his presidency starting in 1881. He walked into the revival-ridden house and famously said, “I will not live in a house like this.” With the help of Louis Comfort Tiffany (yes, like Tiffany & Co.), he created rooms of fantasy with Islamic sconces, ombré robin’s egg walls, “Satsuma” vases from China, and a substantial Tiffany glass wall in the entrance that would have greeted guests with opalescent glass encrusted with jewel-like glass to emulate topaz, amethysts, and rubies. For those of you who are not familiar with the current state of the White House’s interiors, with great sorrow, we regret to inform you that none of these elements remain.
Cleaning house: in search of an American identity
When Theodore Roosevelt started his presidency in 1901, he felt as though the trends of the Victorian eras did not reflect the history of America, and were, therefore, not suitable for America’s most important home. As much as we love President Arthur’s spirited rendition, President Roosevelt had a point; it said very little about America and its history. He wanted to completely renovate it, but his ultimate goal was to make changes that would be seen as permanent—freeing the White House of the stylistic whims of future presidents and their first ladies. Since 1876, the one-hundredth year after America gained its independence, the Colonial Revival movement had an upward trajectory, as it remained a stalwart style for architecture and interiors until well after World War II; this is the style that President Roosevelt felt would be most appropriate for the White House’s interiors from then on.
To implement his vision, he hired McKim, Mead & White (one of the most important and influential architectural firms in American history) and the highly respected New York decorating firm of L. Marcotte & Co. The finished product was a general sense of historic eclecticism, which is not surprising coming from firms with Beaux Arts roots—a style that encouraged an evolution of furniture eras in one space. Antique and reproduction pieces in styles such as English Hepplewhite, William and Mary, Queen Anne, and a range of Louis XVI and Empire pieces were all selected to fill the White House. Paired with lighter, cleaner paint and wallpaper choices, the White House had a completely new look that was a far cry from the heavy Victorian styles. Oh, and the copious amounts of taxidermy? Those were all President Roosevelt’s doing. Hunting trophies aside, overall, he did start a trend of further administrations decorating with timeless intent, as the next few presidential families continued to remove Victorian pieces, replacing them with antique and reproduction pieces that they felt spoke more to America’s earlier styles.
Museum status: Mrs Kennedy’s vision comes to fruition
Perhaps the most famous of White House renovations was the one painstakingly—yet stylishly—undertaken by Jacquline Kennedy when her husband John F. Kennedy was elected to office in 1961. Mrs Kennedy was horrified by the fact that so much had been removed from the White House during Theodore Roosevelt’s term, and by the reproductions that had replaced them along the way. She ultimately decided to turn the White House into a living house museum, reflecting the eras and presidential inhabitants that preceded them. Before Mrs Kennedy could begin such a monumental undertaking, she needed to create a cosy retreat for her family to call ‘home.’ She decided to turn the second floor (that’s the American second floor—English first floor) of the White House into a designated personal space, like an apartment of sorts, for presidential families—a first in the history of the White House. For that, she called upon society decorator Mrs Henry Parish II—better known as Sister Parish. Using family photos, furnishings from the Kennedy’s Georgetown home, chintzes, plush carpeting, and artwork borrowed from museums, Sister Parish successfully created a space that provided an elegant sense of normalcy for two young children and two very busy parents. Mrs Kennedy eventually parted ways with Sister Parish because she, allegedly, kicked little Caroline Kennedy.
When the time came to focus on the ground floor—the public spaces—Mrs Kennedy created a committee and appointed Henry Frances du Pont as chairman, who had recently turned Winterthur (his family estate in Delaware) into the most significant house museum dedicated to the American decorative arts. Additionally, the committee consisted of important figures such as David Finley (the chairman of the Commission of Fine Arts) and John Walker (the director of the National Gallery of Art). Mrs Kennedy and her new committee decided that the periods represented in the White House should be diverse, mainly favouring the styles of the early 19th century, while also including styles of the late 19th century, as well as the early 20th century.
Whilst rooting through the storerooms of the White House, she discovered a few notable national treasures that she added to its more visible areas, most notably the Resolute desk—a present from Queen Victoria to President Rutherford B. Hayes in 1880—which she placed prominently in the Oval Office. However, not all White House treasures were found so easily. She encouraged people to come forward with pieces that were known to be from the White House, which was a big ask, considering that many of these pieces would have been considered family heirlooms by that point. To her delight, people gladly came forward, returning pieces to their original home—including objects associated with Washington, Madison, Monroe, and Lincoln. These acts of generosity were especially spurred on by her tour of the White House, which was aired on CBS, giving America a chance to fall in love with her project—and her elegant, breathy voice. Furnishing gaps still needed to be filled, so additional pieces were acquired via object donation and via purchases made possible though allotted governmental funds and hefty donations from philanthropic citizens.
Through the generosity of the American people, the house was well on its way to looking as Mrs Kennedy envisioned. Interior designer Stéphane Boudin of the Parisian firm Jansen, who had recently done extensive work to Josephine Bonaparte’s Malmaison, was brought into the project as a replacement for Sister Parish. Boudin’s knowledge of 19th-century design is most easily recognized in the Red Room, representing the style often referred to as American Empire with its Grecian style sofa and cerise-red silk dotted with gold medallions, and in the Blue Room, which was made to look more as President Monroe intended it to in the French Empire style. The Federal style (America’s version of the Adam Style) was also prominently used, as it was Henry Frances du Pont’s favourite—this was most clearly implemented in the Green Room, as a nod to John Adams’ and Thomas Jefferson’s presidencies. While these are only just a few examples of Mrs Kennedy’s immediate impact on the White House, it’s her long-term impact that keeps the White House looking as we know it today: a space that presidential families approach with a stronger sense of stewardship.
Growth and tradition: decorating for today and tomorrow
When Barack Obama won the 2008 presidential election, he called upon Michael S. Smith to decorate the White House. At 11 o’clock on the morning of January 20th, 2009, Michael and his team had four hours to move the Obamas into the White House. Yes, you read that correctly: only four hours. This is the tradition; the new presidential family must wait for the previous presidential family to vacate the house on Inauguration Day. So, the Obamas moved swiftly in after the Bushes’ last boxes left for their new home. “It’s like moving in and out of a rental house,” Michael said, making what must have been a very surreal experience for all parties seem somewhat normal. After the inaugural dust settled and the personal pieces like clothes, books, and sentimental objects were put in place, it was time to get decorating. “We inherited a house that the Bushes had done in quite wonderful taste, and we were inspired by that point of view,” Michael said. Their point of view, he explained, was to decorate the White House’s private spaces in a way that would easily work for the next presidential families: carrying on the custodial mindset brought to life by Mrs Kennedy. “We didn’t gut or get rid of anything—we just sort of repurposed things that were there,” he continued, “and our design was based on this same idea that nothing was unchangeable for the next family, so that it could be adapted for them and that they could happily live with it.” So, with future families in mind, spaces were personalised, but not permanently changed. A particularly respectful example of this mindset is the treatment of Mrs Kennedy’s Zuber wallpaper—the 1830s wallpaper depicting “Views of North America” that was saved from a soon-to-be demolished historic home in Maryland. While it famously hangs in the Diplomatic Reception Room, it also hangs in the Family Dining Room. The Obamas preferred not to dine surrounded by battle scenes, so instead of painting it, Michael covered the walls in a custom-printed linen in two shades of cerulean—arguably more calming than battle scenes and certainly more stewardly than permanently erasing it from the home with paint.
When it was time to choose pieces of furniture, Michael and the Obamas were spoiled for choice. “There’s a very big, off-site warehouse where everything is stored,” he shared, “and since the Kennedy administration, nothing can be sold off.” We like to imagine walking into this warehouse being a lot like the scene from National Treasure when Nicolas Cage finally enters the treasure chamber—endless and filled with all sorts of decorating gems. So, if future administrations want Clinton’s curtains, Nixon's lamps, or Reagan's sofas (if you’re a fellow lover of chintz), then they can find them in this off-site warehouse. For example, when decorating the Yellow Oval Room, the room that acts as presidential families’ formal living room for entertaining a range of heads of state to family friends, he selected furniture from the Kennedy administration. Like in the English country houses we are familiar with, he wanted to give the room a “grand-yet-comfortable” look, so that the Obamas’ range of visitors would all feel at ease in a setting of such magnificent proportions. So, paired with gilt candelabras and the formal curtains in the swagged, Stéphane Boudin manner were upholstered pieces meant to sit and properly relax on. It was a space for all, especially paired with the Nancy Lancaster-approved shade of welcoming yellow—she was American, after all.
As for the living museum downstairs, Michael had a hand in that, as well. “Public rooms are due for a refresh every eight years or so,” he explained. Before conducting design work within any of the public spaces, designers must work closely with the Committee for the Preservation of the White House. With their blessing, Michael was able to appropriately revitalise rooms such as the State Dining Room, which he made much more usable by replacing Theodore Roosevelt’s cumbersome chairs with ones that were faithful reproductions of 19th-century chairs that were found in the house. To include a reference to Hawai’i, President Obama’s home state, the rug was woven in Kailua Blue.
This sense of inclusivity and diversity was an intentional theme in the Obama White House, and was primarily depicted via the Obamas' choice of artworks. Selected from the National Collection, paintings of and by Native Americans, Latin Americans, and African Americans were featured in the Obama White House—most notably in the Treaty Room, which was covered in Native American art. Additionally, the White House’s first purchased piece by an African American artist Alma Thomas was put in place by Michael and the Obamas. The selected artworks were meant to be diverse in a stylistic sense, as well. “We had some very classic choices, like a Degas bronze, and some things that were in the permanent collection like a Monet that was given in honour of President Kennedy,” Michael recalled. “The contemporary work was from the 1940s and 50s, some from the 60s and 70s, as well as a few very recent pieces.” Keep in mind, Mrs Kennedy famously said, “The White House will always grow—and it should.”
So, there you have it: the White House and its most noteworthy and influential phases. From the charred ruins of the President’s House to palatial excess, a few instances of identity crises, and then ultimately striking the right balance between museum and home, the White House has certainly had many lives. It was a long road to get here, but the White House of today is a place that can represent the past, while also showing an acceptance of contemporary styles and ideas—without either coming at the expense of the other. As The White House enters a new decorative era, we thoroughly look forward to seeing how President Trump manages to continue to balance growth and tradition.
