It is clean and dirty at the same time: Everything is white and light, clean fabrics and textures and equally as clean lines. Then the moss sod came under the Hostess' microscope: Ah, not on your life would that hit my table with nothing under it. It is no different than a picnic on the ground, if one thinks of it that way, but I am just not bringing it in to the house if it is not on a tray. But I adored it in the exhibit sense.
Sculpted mushrooms were a wonderful thought and the stark white color against the moss was perfect. Any flower used in place would not be as well conceived as this, I thought. The candle holders allowed a perfect warm illumination.
Both the thin leggy bird used as centerpiece (which still allows for conversation per the Hostess' first rule of centerpiece design) and the long, lean print upon the wall are drop dead gorgeous. They sync up the visual effect: Drawing the eye ever upward. For small dining rooms with a low ceiling this trick is invaluable.
On the whole, the room was contemplative and cerebral, one of few installations that knew so well the expectations of the human eye and how best to take advantage of our Creator's design talents in turn. Never mind the woodsy stuff which was itself glorious, the room was a masterpiece of heights and lights.
I get it; the place setting. I just wish the birds had not been so black in color. They were perhaps the only disappointment in this room. I wondered where the black came from because it did not flow.
I am shamelessly coveting these green horn utensils. Where have these been all my life?