Last week, I accepted the Simon Taylor Award for lifetime achievement in the kitchen industry. The Design Awards ceremony, held in London on October 7, was organised by Designer Magazine to recognise excellence in the British kitchen and bath industry. The Simon Taylor Award is presented to an individual who is judged to have made an outstanding contribution to kitchen and bath design.

I was asked about the design and position of the kitchen in the home of the future. My reaction to this was based on the role of neuroscience in design, a topic I have explored with John Zeisel, an American environmental sociologist.

We focused on identifying the key characteristics of living spaces that return well being – for the body and the brain. An example of the intersection of design and neuroscience is that different colours stimulate different parts of the brain, and designers can use a variety of colours to enhance mood in the spaces they create. Another example is designing a kitchen in such a way that builds in eye contact to increase sociability.

We are returning to our instincts in the need for light, connection to nature and recognition of sociability.
Last year, John and I wrote a paper on “happy kitchens.” This essay inspired Alison Beard, editor of the Financial Times House & Home section, to commission a piece from Catherine Moye entitled “All in the Mind.”

The Dexter showcase kitchen provided a wonderful opportunity for creative collaboration. We saw it as an umbrella for bringing in an international array of designers, artists and craftspeople who helped us make our house a home. In addition, we wanted to take our imaginary kitchen inhabitants on a time travel to Miami and experience the ocean, the sunlight and local architecture, getting in touch with the lighter side of Dexter.

We triggered these sensations with decorative objects created by Mexican artist Eduardo Garza, such as a huge coral in the centre table, mysterious bones, tortoise shells and amber glass light, a Lucite drum containing Dexter’s knives and a jewel box in which the devilish work of Finnish chocolate artist Anna Shea is displayed.

Eduardo Garza

A collection of super-enlarged studies of flowers and crystal blue ocean water by Paul Lange, a Condé Nast photographer, were chosen to help suggest a Miami scene. Paul personally matted and framed his work with precision, and took six hours to carefully place and hang the images.

Paul Lange

The American tropical plant expert Dennis Schrader, of Landcraft Environments in Mattituck, Long Island, transformed the kitchen with an indoor container garden. His selection of vegetation selection includes flesh-eating plants, and others with leaves that appear blood-spattered, are shaped like sting rays or feel like alligator skin. Dennis plans to launch his newly published book Extraordinary Leaves at the showhouse on October 16 together with photographer Stephen Green-Armytage.

Our nod to the literal and only elegantly ghoulish was a collaboration with Anna Shea, who made solid chocolate renditions from a cast a human hand and wrist. Startled guests discovered the Dexter-trophy in the fridge. We are disappointed, but not surprised to report that some cheeky guests soon gobbled up some of Anna’s beautiful fingers. She assures us that she is not upset. Anna is based in Tarrytown, New York, and is opening a flagship boutique for her artisanal chocolates in Chicago this month.

Anna Shea

The furnishings piece de resistance is the 54 inch tall red rope chair by the Philippino furniture designer Kenneth Cobonpue. It’s supportive, transparent and and cocoon-like. The knots recall a fishing net, and all things nautical. Although an accidental association, the red rope ties visually to both Amy Lau’s use of red in her dining room, and to Enzo Enea’s stunning red rope canopy in his bamboo garden behind the kitchen.

We noticed a snippet of a visual detail in episodes of Dexter story in which a sonar image is displayed on a fishing boat. We asked the producers for a screen capture, and from it, the New York textile artist Liora Manne handcrafted an 8-foot diameter rug that visually anchors our kitchen furnishings. It is graphically stunning, and even more startling to discover that it is a sonar image of Dexter’s watery burial ground!

Liora Manne

The naturally distressed zebra maple wood floor has a unique “slasher” grain, caused by water penetration after beetles created bore holes in the source trees. The resulting streaks of grey have a rhythmic, calming effect in the room, like fallen leaves on water. You feel as if you are walking on polished bark, perhaps in a log cabin or tree house.

The wall surrounding the ovens is clad in sandstone from Warzistan, provided by Artistic Tile. The grain and colouring reinforces the Dexter theme with its streaks, broken mineral surfaces and a surface you just have to stroke.

The Australian artist Lucy Turner painted the blood cells frieze on the big storage cupboard. This decoration is in no way morbid or gruesome; blood became beautiful and extraordinary as a mechanism that spreads the life force throughout our bodies. After all, where would we be without it?

The appliances throughout the kitchen are Thermador’s latest. Their new convection cooktop was on display, as were wine coolers, ovens and a generous fridge and freezer. Unlike so many showhouse installations, ours is live. The countertop insert in the sink top and cladding of the radiators and architectural recesses around the windows all came from Caesarstone, a synthetic stone made from crushed quartz.

The onsite contractors, Certified Construction of New York, Inc, also worked hard on all aspects of the kitchen lighting and plumbing installation. And finally, our own team of furniture makers at the Johnny Grey Detroit workshop created complicated walnut countertops and cherry, bogged oak and aspen wood cabinetry, as well as the stainless steel metalwork. The compliment to them is that the visitor’s eye immediately goes to the furniture as soon as they enter the kitchen. Hands soon follow, and it is not at all surprising to see the curves of the furniture caressed with curiosity and surprise.

Who says design must always be so serious? What about curiosity, imagination, innovation, provocation, intelligence and, of course, good old fun?

Our “next door neighbour” in the Showtime house on Gramercy Park, the decorator Amy Lau and I had a crazy idea for enjoying her dining room and our kitchen for Dexter. We would “take the pants off” the usual business of a showhouse – that is, taking one’s work so seriously – and we would actually use our showhouse spaces to stage a memorable dinner on September 11!

Photo by David Ward

This is a bit unusual in the States, as these showhouses are often more like stage sets – not really “live” rooms. And yet our Dexter kitchen is fully functional. So why not chop, stir, pour, spill, eat, drink and fully put it to use?

I was inspired by the Futurist Filippo Tommaso Marinetti, and a “Marinetti Dinner” I participated in at the completion of my first Gothic punk kitchen 30 years ago. And so I suggested we do our dinner on the theme of all things Red.

Amy and I asked the garden designer Enzo Enea, whose team did the crisp, architectural bamboo garden behind the showhouse kitchen, to join us as hosts for inviting 13 design cognoscenti. Preparations proceeded frantically – we had little time – and lots of Dexter-inspired moments later, a clever menu was created, guests accepted and we set about on the details.

Photo by David Ward

The setting of the Red Dinner table turned out weirdly beautiful. The plates had distressed surfaces and tattered edges but were still smooth enough to eat from and the glasses had finger prints printed on them, crime lab style. The dining chairs had embroidered red blood splatters woven into the white vinyl upholstery. Test tubes were positioned just so in Perspex holders, filled with special “potions” to accompany each course. Specially “dismembered” cutlery, which made it harder but a lot more fun to eat, was crafted by Ben Taylor and Emily Steels.

Photo by David Ward

There was plenty of good conversation to be had. Ben, the chef, announced the courses in his red splattered apron, relishing a Dexter-inspired anecdote. He had just the right pitch: witty, impudent and slightly risqué. It made me imagine what decadent aristocrats might have enjoyed in pre-revolutionary France, in their giant chateaus and theme-driven feasts. Ours was a type of creative decadence, indeed.

None of us really got bogged down in the history of red, but the theme worked easily enough with the modern cuisine. Cress salad with torn blood orange and pomegranate splatters; “bottom feeder” vichyssoise with lobster in a pool of borscht blood; seared tuna flesh in a coconut puddle with black rice; “Lila’s roast duck” on a celeriac puree; “Chunks of mom” coconut pudding.

And as always, the Dexter-inspired Johnny Grey kitchen looked even better when fully a mess. Nothing gives me more joy than seeing our work put to very good use, filled with congenial family and friends – in other words, a kitchen to live in.

Photos by David Ward