An expression of our personalities, a reflection of our taste or simply somewhere to sleep, our homes are unique and multifaceted. They are the places we’re raised, where we bring up our children, where we spend all of our time or not enough of it. Whether your house was built last year or last century, the home speaks of a cultural, social history neatly inserted into our everyday lives. We are an implicit part of history, and our homes emulate our past.
One of the most important deities in Ancient Greece was Hestia, goddess of the hearth. She received the first offering at every sacrifice, and when new colonies were built a flame from Hestia’s public hearth in the mother city would light the first fire. The hearth was the centre of the home, a place for warmth, a place to cook. A sacred place that represented community and protection. To this day we are hopeful that our homes can provide those same things, and the hygge hype of recent years draws on the same ideals of comfort and security.
The enduring popularity of the ancient Taoist practise Feng Shui demonstrates our desire for (dare I say it) a spiritual connection with our home environment. The practise aligns living spaces with nature, encouraging the flow of energy to specific areas of attention through texture, shape, colour and the positioning of furniture. Our spaces affect us emotionally and energetically, and while Feng Shui might sound far fetched to some, we can all agree that home is a feeling. The basic principles of Feng Shui remain important factors when we think of the atmosphere our home engenders.
But from the intangible to the physical, we use our homes to express ourselves, and perhaps the best example of this is through the living room. Epitomised by the grandeur of stately homes with a room for every social occasion (billiards rooms, drawing rooms, morning rooms, parlours etc), these rooms were a display of taste and wealth, showcasing the latest trends and modern furnishings. Post-industrialisation, an emerging middle class exemplified a new, consumerist society that dressed their homes with reproductions and imitative styles typical of the Victorian age.
Understandably, two world wars had a striking effect on the modern home. Fewer houses had servants and domestic design reflected this: practical, elegant furnishings and the proliferation of domestic appliances to make up for the lack of help around the home. With this of course came an antidote to the anguish of war-time Britain, colourful and creative designs conceived for a country still dealing with austerity.
And what of the modern home? There’s no doubt that the concept carries more weight now, as homes have expanded to include our office or our children’s schools. The line between domestic and professional has been blurred, our sanctum of peace is no longer separated physically and mentally from our places of work.
Uncertainty prevails, and the relationship with our homes has changed inexorably. How we use these spaces, how we enjoy them and furnish them will be a reflection of our shared history. Our homes endure as an expression of our larger self - the practical, the sentimental, the soul.