Interior designer Lorenzo Castillo, born in Madrid in 1968, is now at the height of his career. Even while working with coveted clients, his role as an educator on the history of interior design has become his primary focus—and not just through his television appearances on the Spanish design competition DecoMasters. Castillo will soon publish a book outlining the fundamentals of interior design. He told us all about his work, the history of interior design in Spain, and the movie he can’t stop rewatching from his new apartment in Oviedo, the capital of the province of Asturias, where he lives surrounded by objects he has treasured throughout his career.
In his stunning new home, every decorative element is unique: There’s furniture by Jansen, artworks by Gabriella Crespi and Anthony Redmile, and pieces by major 20th-century designers. He finds the perfect spot for every item in the apartment’s almost theatrical layout. The greatest challenge for Castillo was the renovation, which involved combining two apartments into one enormous space. There are only a few rooms, but all of them are large and enjoy a very comfortable flow between them, designed with Castillo, his partner Alfonso, and their dog Tana in mind. It’s a celebration of high-end interior design with nods to many styles, among them some Hollywood Regency touches.
The bedroom lounge features a Hollywood Regency–style sofa in camel-colored mohair velvet from the Lorenzo Castillo collection, a rug by Alfombras Peña, and walls lined with lacquered panels featuring Japanese wave motifs from Phillip Jeffries’s latest collection. The piece of furniture in the background is Dutch, dating from the 17th century. Above the sofa hangs a painting by the artist Vaquero Turcio. The Napoleon III-style armchair, upholstered in blue Rubelli silk, was purchased at Isabel Martínez Antigüedades.
AD: You say this is the most beautiful home you’ve ever designed. What makes it different?
Lorenzo Castillo: I always say this, but to paraphrase Karl Lagerfeld: “the next house will be the best one.” In this case, this home is the one [laughs]. First and foremost, I had to work with what was there: a large apartment in an early 20th-century French-style building, located in a very iconic part of Oviedo, overlooking the Campo de San Francisco park. Oviedo has retained its stately character, and I wanted the home to have that distinctly northern-Spanish flair with colors that reflect the city. All of that is shaped by the variations in light from one exposure to another.
What new elements did you introduce, and which ones did you preserve?
I changed it completely. We combined two apartments, and I placed the entire bedroom suite facing the Campo de San Francisco because I wanted to see it from our bedroom. That’s actually the most elegant side of the building—where the living room would typically be—but instead I moved the living room to the back, where I reintroduced a glass-enclosed gallery which had originally been part of the apartment. It’s a typically Asturian architectural element.
In the coat room, Castillo displays a 1940s portrait by a Milanese painter, a Victorian neo-Gothic pedestal, and a copy of the head of the Farnese Hercules, a traditional souvenir from the Grand Tour. On the wall to the right hangs a landscape by 19th-century painter Carlos de Haes.
Color sets the tone in this house; you walk into the bedroom and your heart rate slows down.
For me, the use of color is fundamental in interior design. The side of the home where the bedroom is located gets less sunlight—only a little in the afternoon. That’s why I used darker, more soothing shades. And, interestingly, I reserved the lighter colors for the other side of the apartment, which gets more light. In the sleeping area, pinks, blues, camel, and chocolate brown predominate; there’s a mix of shades, but they all share a common trait of evoking a certain sense of tranquility. To soften the look, I painted the ceiling a dusty pink, because I felt it needed that contrast. The bedroom shows that you don’t have to use light colors in darker rooms—quite the opposite. That’s why, on the back side of the home, which is brighter, everything is butter, cream, ochre, and mustard. And throughout the apartment there are splashes of gold, lots of gold, everywhere.
You really love gold! Is it part of your signature style?
I love it! Gold is light and warmth—I’m passionate about it. I could cover an entire room with gold. I don’t know how some people can think it’s pretentious or merely synonymous with luxury; to me, it feels warm. There are so many types of gold, and the one I like is the kind that’s developed a patina. If we use new gold—like we did on the shower screens in this home—and brush it, it looks as if it’s been there for ages. I love the warmth and light gold brings; but there are also silver accents in the home. I like to combine both materials: gold is warm and silver is cool, and mixing the two creates a nice balance.
The main living room has several seating areas arranged around a 1970s Casa y Jardín sofa, which is upholstered in cream-colored mohair by Castillo. The painting is by José María Yturralde; the 1970s stone table is by Romeo Rega; and the armchairs are upholstered in black velvet from Larsen Fabrics. The entire wall is upholstered with a geometric wool fabric from Phillip Jeffries.
Do you redecorate your homes often?
I don’t change the decor in the spaces where I spend most of my time all that often, but I do change it in the social areas. Doing so makes me feel better and gives me a sense of wellbeing. Deep down, decor must always be linked to our quality of life and our search for happiness. That’s why I make those constant changes: because I’m still searching for happiness. And since I haven’t found it yet, I’ll keep designing!
Are you very social? Your home is always ready to welcome guests.
I mean, I’m no Truman Capote. I’m not a socialite, even if that’s maybe the image I project. But it’s not real, because deep down, I’m a homebody, just like every good Cancer. I think that’s why I love decorating so much and why it’s so much a part of who I am. For me, there’s no greater pleasure in the world than coming home and being surrounded by my things.
Three rooms were combined to create the principal bedroom, which occupies the entire front of the façade facing Campo de San Francisco park. The large four-poster bed features draping that is navy-blue fabric by Ralph Lauren on the outside, with an interior of silk and velvet by Castillo. The alabaster-and-bronze coffee table is from Maison Baguès; and the Georgian daybed, upholstered in black velvet by Castillo, is from Maison Jansen.
The long hall is lined in a geometric suede-textured wallcovering from Phillip Jeffries and features a custom antelope rug by Alfombras Peña. The bronze and acrylic obelisk lamps are by Maison Jansen, and the Roman-style marble mosaic on the wall dates from the 1930s.
The bed in the primary bedroom features a silver fox blanket by Javier Alcaraz, a throw pillow from Jim Thompson Fabrics, and silk and velvet fabrics by Castillo. On the wall hangs a nighttime landscape by Luis Graner, from Subastas Segre, and a Russian portrait from the 1920s from Bayeu Subastas.
And what are those things that make you feel at home?
Inside my home in Madrid, which is large, with spacious living rooms and common areas, I felt the need to create a mini home for myself, a duplex where Alfón [Alfonso Fernández Reyero, Castillo’s partner of more than 20 years] and I live. It’s an apartment within an apartment; it’s our microcosm, and no one is allowed in there. No one, no one, no one.
The first one of us who won’t let anyone in is Tana [the couple’s dog]. If anyone tries to enter, she bites their ankle, even though she doesn’t do that in the rest of the home. She considers that space to be ours. That’s where we have a little more chaos. Decoratively, it’s very beautiful, but it’s not a place to show off—it’s a place to feel comfortable. And the most important thing in decorating is comfort. There’s a mix of things: our paintings by [José María] Yturralde are everywhere, but then there are some pieces I probably wouldn’t hang in the living room upstairs, like, for example, a wonderful portrait of an elderly woman by Álvarez de Sotomayor, who was a master portraitist from the early 20th century. It’s an artistically superb painting, but it’s a little difficult to live with even though I love looking at it all the time.
What’s your latest obsession?
Over the past month, ever since I went to Venice to visit the Dries Van Noten Foundation, I’ve watched the 1971 Luchino Visconti movie Death in Venice about 20 times—almost obsessively. Alfonso says to me, “Have you lost your mind?” And I reply, “No, Alfonso, it’s just that every time I watch it, I discover something new.” It’s incredible. I find myself noticing the drapes, the Indian fabrics, the Murano necklaces sold on the beach—which are the same ones I have from my grandmother’s collection. Cinema inspires me so much right now. Any film by Visconti or Kubrick is a source of inspiration.
In the living room, above a George Smith sofa with white geometric cotton fabric from Gastón y Daniela, hangs a painting of gazelles by Enrique Segura. The wall is upholstered with geometric wool fabric by Phillip Jeffries.
Your grandmother played a key role in your creative awakening. What do you remember about her?
My maternal grandmother subscribed to the American edition of Architectural Digest, because at the time it was the only one that existed. She’d give me the magazine when she was done because it was so expensive—each issue cost a thousand pesetas, which was an outrageous amount then. She had a beautiful home on Calle Conde de Aranda in Madrid, with decor that was very ahead of its time. She had wallpaper she bought in the United States—her second husband was American, and you could really see that influence. Her home had linoleum floors and a huge kitchen, which she painted a high-gloss turquoise and tiled with blue-and-white Portuguese tiles. It would be a total hit today! Back then, we’d walk into the kitchen and think, Wow! My father was a maxillofacial surgeon, and my mom worked from home; she loved constantly changing the decor, so I learned that kind of passion for making changes from her. Starting when I was around 10, we’d go fabric shopping together, and just a few years later, she started to let me handle the decorating or we’d do it together.
What was it like growing up in Spain in the 1970s as a boy with your interests?
My father’s friends thought it was incredibly strange for a boy to study art history back then, but he always said, “Let the boy study whatever he wants.” I left Colegio Estudio, where everyone thought I was a freak, to enroll at the Universidad Complutense, where I also never made any friends because everyone there also looked at me like I was a freak. I never really fit in anywhere until I finished university and started being myself. I realized that this thing I thought was wrong with me—this way of being that didn’t fit in anywhere—wasn’t my problem but society’s.
The Borne settee in the living room is upholstered in an animal print by Nobilis, with trim by Schumacher and pillows by Jim Thompson Fabrics. On the wood paneling, which is covered in Farrow & Ball lacquer, hangs a collection of 20th-century art. The carved wooden figures are by Rafael García.
A pair of alabaster vases featuring Art Deco Chinese motifs rest atop a tortoiseshell cabinet by Maison Jansen. The elm burl sofa, upholstered in a Pierre Frey fabric, is also from the Art Deco period. The ottoman is a design by Lorenzo Castillo, upholstered in fabric by GP & J Baker. The coffee tables, made of bronze and marble, date from the 1930s; and the collection of decorative eggs includes ones by Anthony Redmile, Dior, and Gabriella Crespi. On the wall hang paintings by Agustín Úbeda, Orlando Pelayo, and Vaquero Turcios.
A corner of the main living room features a Dutch Baroque table made of rosewood and ebony. On top of it Castillo displays a collection of African art from Senegal and Gambia. The tufted armchair is by Jacques Grange, upholstered in herringbone cotton by Lorenzo Castillo and trimmed with Gancedo trimmings. The 1930s Portuguese portrait of a bullfighter is from the Olofane antique shop.
You turned everything upside down when you entered into the world of antique dealers.
I opened my antique shop with my brother Santiago. With our father’s help, we found a space in Madrid’s Barrio de las Letras neighborhood. We used to travel to France to buy antiques, but I got tired of that very quickly, because deep down it was a very commercial business. The room for creativity that antiques allowed you was very limited. In fact, what I enjoyed most was when I attended antiques fairs and decorated the stands. The other antique dealers would say to me, “You’re not an antiques dealer; you’re a decorator!” Then the decorators would come up and tell me, “You’re not a decorator; you’re an antiques dealer!”
What would you say was your secret to success?
We focused on a decorative approach to antiques rather than approaching it from the perspective of a collector. Up until then, in Spain, antiques were bought for the sake of collecting—for the intrinsic value of the pieces—and not so much for their decorative value. And that’s when people started calling me to do decorating work. At that time, decorating with antiques was very fashionable, but people didn’t know how to place them, or they would do so in a very old-fashioned way. Unlike my colleagues, I began mixing classic French pieces with 20th-century furniture, especially from the ’60s and ’70s, because I felt it refreshed the interiors. Well, actually, that’s what David Hicks was already doing. I wasn’t inventing anything, all I did was read books.
This everyday dining area in the kitchen is connected to the living room through glass doors. The floor is two-tone travertine; the terracotta-colored natural wall covering is by Phillip Jeffries; the Italian chairs are from the 1970s; and the table, made of brass and lacquer, is Castillo’s design. The floral arrangements are by Jesús Escandón of Enebro Estudio.
Which Spanish masters have inspired you throughout your career?
For me, perhaps the person who contributed the most to Spanish interior design was Jaime Parladé, because one thing he did exceptionally well was create an international Spanish style, something we were lacking. And then there’s Rafael García, the great forgotten figure of our interior design scene. He was a highly entrepreneurial Valencian pioneer who designed the sets for many Spanish films of the 1960s and 1970s. He also had a store on Madrid’s Gran Vía; an impressive showroom on the Plaza de la Independencia, which always caught my eye when I was a child; and two factories on Avenida del Mediterráneo, with façades remodeled by Miguel Fisac.
Have you noticed any major design shifts lately?
I think what we’ve seen is a rejection of the trend toward minimalism that emerged as a result of post-World War II modernism. It seems that in Spain—though it’s always been more of a struggle here than in England or France—we’re experiencing a sort of return to textures, colors, patterns, and influences from cultures such as India, China, and Japan. If we go back to the time of Isabella I, at the end of the 15th century, she took it upon herself to modernize Spain. When her daughter Joan of Castile married Philip of Burgundy, Isabella wanted the country to be on par with the rest of Europe. Interiors began to be designed in the European style and to resemble those of the rest of the continent. Until then Spain had been more influenced by Islamic aesthetics when it came to textiles, cushions, draperies, rugs (layered one on top of another), and furniture inlaid with ivory. There was a richness and exuberance that—and here’s the funny part—instead of being adopted by Spaniards as our own style, ended up being embraced by Italians, such as the architect and designer Renzo Mongiardino. His interiors feature many Italian influences, of course, but quite a few of his spaces are inspired by the Spanish Renaissance.
At what point did Spain lose its influence in terms of interiors and decoration?
The bourgeoisie didn’t emerge as an important part of Spanish society until very late. Spain was a nation made up of a large peasant population, a small nobility, and a court, so that development was lacking during the 18th and 19th centuries, which is when our decline set in.
The guest room features a Napoleon III-style bed made of Chinese lacquer, with mohair velvet and decorative trim by Gancedo. On the wall is one of two custom-made niches designed to display a collection of 18th-century Spanish ceramics. The painting is by Mariano Bertuchi.
In this corner of the bedroom’s sitting area, Castillo displays a cloisonné enamel and bronze lamp from the 1940s by L’Escalier de Cristal, alongside an 18th-century Italian portrait from Bayeu Subastas.
Is there anything you haven’t done yet? What dream do you still have yet to fulfill?
I hope to always have the excitement of trying new things. I still have so much left to do…. I always think that the best is yet to come. Over the past five years, I’ve worked with the most important international clients of my career—the kind I’d always dreamed of—but that hasn’t given me the feeling that I’ve already achieved everything I want to achieve. My father, who was a scientist, also taught at a university. From him I inherited a passion for teaching, and what motivates me most right now is sharing my knowledge of interior design. The joy of sharing knowledge, of teaching, of being generous with what I know, of passing on the torch, and of training the next generations of interior designers make me proud. I feel like I’m doing something unique, practical, and creative by using knowledge that at first glance might seem frivolous or reserved only for a select few, but in reality, it isn’t. Interior design is becoming increasingly accessible and it appeals to a growing number of people from all walks of life, because it depends less on one’s financial situation and more about having the curiosity to understand how to create beautiful spaces—spaces that are so important to achieving happiness.
This interview was originally published by AD Spain. It was translated by John Newton.
