Couve's Chandelier: Shifting Decorative Taste in the French Embassy Residence

For 60 years, a traditional glass chandelier acquired by former French Ambassador to Washington Maurice Couve de Murville graced the main staircase of the embassy residence at 2221 Kalorama Road. But when the residence was reopened earlier this year following a 26-month interior renovation, Couve's chandelier was gone. In its place was a trendy light fixture consisting of three large shining hoops artfully illuminated from a plaque in the ceiling. Ambassador Gérard Araud, the residence's 20th occupant, bought the Regency Chain Light created by the New York designer Carrie Livingston and had it installed when he moved into the house.

A political commentator could have a field day working out the symbolic meaning of that change as it relates to French diplomatic style; but on another level it's one of several signs that the restoration has added a modern flavor to the quintessentially French elegance of the residence's public rooms. In part, the changes reflect the artistic taste of Ambassador Araud, who took up his post in Washington just in time to add his personal touch to the project.    

Hence, it was goodbye to Couve's chandelier and the tapestry on the stairway, which has given way to a contemporary hanging by James Brown, an American artist who lives and works in France. Araud also ordered a color change in the "salle à manger" (dining room) from green walls to a more neutral pale yellow, with sand-colored cornices and Roman shades replacing the heavy drapes. The effect was to highlight the six cartoons by Nicolas Coypel and Claude Audran III for the Gobelin tapestry series "Portières des Dieux" ("Portals of the Gods") in the early 18th century.    

Parisian-born American architect Jules Henri de Sibour built the 27,000-square-foot, 19-bedroom, vaguely Tudorstyle mansion in 1910 for a Philadelphia business tycoon. The renovation work started under Araud's predecessor François Delattre. In 2012, Delattre and his wife Sophie l'Helias Delattre moved out to a rented house on Foxhall Road — and into the residence moved a team of specialists from Paris supplied by the Mobilier national, the French government department which restores and supplies furniture, Aubusson carpets, Gobelin tapestries and works of art to embellish French embassies worldwide and other official buildings.    

Over the two years, with some of the work contracted out to Washington firms, French cabinetmakers, restorers, and painters reupholstered chairs and sofas on-site, gave fresh life to furniture and repainted walls — the latter generally in the neutral tones currently much in favor by interior designers. For example, in the "Salon Empire," wall coverings in the Second Empire style of imperial red silk have given way to neutral off-white, but the square-backed fauteuils and sofas retain the red upholstery. The dazzling, massive carpet with its big N (for Napoleon) and bee motif (the Napoleonic emblem) is still in place. So is the painting by Pierre Bonnard, "Coin de Table," from the series painted at Le Cannet around 1935.    

The makeover cost $4 million, with a lot of it going on repairing the leaking roof and eccentric plumbing, improving the heating system and upgrading the kitchen. Embassy officials said it was the most comprehensive restoration project since the French government bought the building in 1936.    

In the early 1930s, Paul Claudel, France's ambassador to Washington (yes, the illustrious poet, playwright, author of "Partage de Midi," etc. was also a diplomat), urged the government in Paris to acquire a permanent diplomatic residence in D.C. The result was the acquisition of the so-called William Watson Lawrence House for the purpose. The first occupant was Andre Lefebvre de la Boulaye, who completed his term in the new residence. His successor, George Bonnet, moved in directly on arrival. Bonnet was a politician and former government minister who had earlier been harshly critical of President Franklin D. Roosevelt, and who spoke no English. Things got a lot better after that and later occupants have all been English-speaking, cultivated men and capable diplomats, up to and including Gérard Araud.    

One dividend that any foreign chief of mission in Washington can count on is good housing, but it's not just his or her residence. Like the ambassador, the building represents a foreign country — actually is foreign territory — and is the main setting for the embassy's outreach activity. Thus about 10,000 guests visit the French residence every year to attend receptions, dinners and other events in the five spacious formal salons on the ground level. The ambassador's private apartment is one floor up, along with guest rooms for the steady stream of visiting officials from Paris ("I'm in charge of a bed and breakfast," Araud comments more or less jokingly) plus some offices. In the basement is the large, state-of-the-art kitchen, with its staff of 10.

Scattered around the place are reminders of France's historic links with the United States. In the wood-paneled reception room there's a copy of a well-known portrait of George Washington attributed to Charles Willson Peale, of which a full-length version ("Portrait of George Washington at the Battle of Princeton, January 3.1777") is at the National Museum of the Palace of Versailles, and — somewhat to Ambassador Araud's regret — a large portrait of the Comte de Lafayette by the grand staircase and a marble bust of Lafayette elsewhere.    

Araud says the French regard Lafayette as more of a spin merchant than a soldier, and says he capitalized on his personal friendship with Washington to exaggerate his role in the American Revolution. The real soldier was the Comte de Rochambeau, whose smaller portrait hangs in the entrance hall. It was Rochambeau, a seasoned field officer, who had the military experience (and the troops and equipment) to carry out the siege of Yorktown that finally convinced the English to give up.