First, a definition. “UNGAPATCHKA” describes the overly ornate, busy, ridiculously over-decorated, and garnished to the point of distaste. Thankfully, the point of distaste is debatable. My grandparents, who decorated their home in the mid 1960s, helped my develop a point of distaste without being burdened by conservative standards. If there’s such a thing as haute ungapatchka, this is it.
So, the details. The room has high ceilings. 23 feet I think. The matching electric candle lamps have bases that match the marble of the coffee table stands/urns. The sofa fabric has a floral pattern, with parts of the flowers padded so that they’re raised a good 1/2″. I’ve only seen this fabric in two places, here, and on the sofa at my parent’s house. Sadly, my parents re-covered their sofa in the 80s, but my grandparents, not having kids trashing the furniture constantly, were able to keep theirs. Here’s a close up of the fabric:
Now a view in the other direction. Here you can really get a sense of the height of the room and can appreciate the ornate formality that not even tables covered with photos of grandchildren can subdue. Note that my daughter, one of said grandchildren, is probably the first child to sit on that rug since the 1970s.
The room is full of gems, figuratively and literally. Here is a tree sculpture make of copper and stone. The base is a quartz geode, but I don’t know what the “leaves” or “mushrooms” are.
The coffee table by the love seats has a base with classic Roman themes, with babes, gods and togas in abundance. The plastic foliage adds a lush sensibility to offset the Roman formality, and the vase of bead flowers adds whimsy.
The entrance to the dinner room is guarded by Chinese dragon dog things. Many a passover seder took place here, though we kids were relegated to a card table set up in the kitchen.
Finally, here is my grandmother, relaxing in a chair in her living room. She’s in the lower right corner in case you can’t see her!