Curation vs Decoration: Why Meaning Comes from Composition, Not Accumulation
By Benjamin Liatoud, Architect
The word “decoration” has become ubiquitous. It is used to describe everything from interior styling to retail displays, from residential projects to hospitality spaces. Yet in this widespread usage, something essential has been lost. Decoration today often implies surface, immediacy, and visual effect. Curation, on the other hand, operates on a different level entirely.
When I conceive a space—whether it is described as an interior, a setting, or a mise en scène—I do not think in terms of decoration. I think in terms of composition. Composition implies intention, hierarchy, balance, and authorship. It is not about filling a space, but about structuring relationships within it.
This distinction is not semantic. It is foundational.
Decoration as Addition
Decoration often begins with selection. Objects are chosen for their aesthetic appeal, their compatibility with a style, or their ability to complete a visual narrative. The logic is additive: a space is seen as incomplete until it is furnished, accessorized, and visually resolved.
This approach is not inherently wrong. Decoration can be sensitive, elegant, and refined. But it remains primarily concerned with appearance. It addresses what is visible rather than what is spatially felt. It responds to an image rather than to a situation.
Decoration tends to privilege:
surface over structure
objects over relationships
instant recognition over duration
In many contemporary interiors, decoration produces spaces that photograph well but age poorly. They rely on coherence through similarity rather than coherence through intention.
Curation as Spatial Writing
Curation, by contrast, is not about adding. It is about composing. It implies a narrative, a point of view, and a responsibility toward the whole. In curatorial work, every element is selected not for itself, but for the role it plays within a broader spatial story.
When I curate a space, I am not assembling objects. I am writing a spatial text.
This text is read through:
volume and proportion
light and shadow
circulation and pause
density and emptiness
Objects become words. Materials become syntax. The space itself becomes the medium.
The 30 / 30 / 30 Principle
My approach to curation is anchored in a deliberate balance. In most of my projects, the composition follows a consistent logic:
30% custom-designed pieces
30% sourced or collected elements
30% editor-produced furniture and objects
This distribution is not a formula. It is a framework that allows coherence without rigidity.
Custom-Designed Pieces (30%)
Custom pieces anchor the space. They respond precisely to volume, scale, and use. They establish proportion and rhythm. These elements are not decorative; they are architectural. They often define the spatial grammar of the project.
Designing bespoke furniture or elements allows me to:
control scale and alignment
create continuity between architecture and objects
avoid generic solutions
These pieces belong to the space. They cannot be relocated without losing meaning.
Sourced and Collected Pieces (30%)
Sourced pieces introduce memory, imperfection, and narrative depth. They come from my own addresses across the world—Brazil, Southern Europe, the United States, places where objects carry traces of use, craftsmanship, and time.
These elements are not chosen to illustrate a style. They are chosen because they hold tension. They resist neutrality. They introduce something unresolved, slightly displaced.
This layer brings:
cultural resonance
material authenticity
emotional density
It is often here that a space gains its soul.
Editor Pieces (30%)
Editor-produced furniture plays a different role. These pieces provide clarity, precision, and contemporary anchoring. They establish a shared language with the present moment.
Used carefully, editor pieces offer:
technical excellence
material consistency
legibility within a contemporary context
But they are never the dominant layer. When overused, they flatten identity. When integrated thoughtfully, they stabilize composition.
Why the Mix Matters
A space composed exclusively of custom pieces risks becoming hermetic. A space built only from collected objects risks nostalgia. A space relying solely on editor furniture risks anonymity.
The mix creates tension. And tension creates meaning.
This balance prevents the space from becoming illustrative or thematic. It allows multiple temporalities to coexist: the present, the past, and the unresolved future. It creates a sense of depth that cannot be achieved through decoration alone.
This is where curation differs fundamentally from decoration. Decoration seeks harmony through repetition. Curation seeks coherence through contrast.
Curation as Authorship
Curation implies authorship. It assumes responsibility for the whole. It requires saying no as much as saying yes.
When everything is possible, nothing is necessary.
Curating a space means deciding:
what does not belong
what must remain empty
what deserves emphasis
what should recede
This discipline is often misunderstood as minimalism. It is not. It is precision.
Objects as Situations, Not Statements
In decorative approaches, objects often function as statements. They declare taste, reference trends, or signal cultural capital. In curatorial approaches, objects function as situations.
A chair is not chosen because it is beautiful, but because of how it:
receives the body
occupies space
interacts with light
alters movement
Objects are not placed to be seen. They are placed to be experienced.
Time as a Design Material
One of the most overlooked differences between curation and decoration is the role of time. Decoration often aims for immediate effect. Curation accepts delayed understanding.
A curated space does not reveal itself instantly. It unfolds. It invites return. It rewards attention.
This temporal dimension is critical in hospitality, private residences, and cultural spaces. These environments are not consumed in a glance. They are lived.
A Personal Signature
This approach—the deliberate mix of bespoke, sourced, and editor pieces—has become my signature. Not because it is recognizable, but because it is consistent.
Consistency is not repetition. It is coherence across different contexts.
Whether a project is located in Paris, Barcelona, Miami, or elsewhere, the method remains the same:
read the space
define its structure
compose relationships
curate elements with intention
Style adapts. The approach does not.
Beyond Decoration
Decoration ends where curation begins.
Decoration answers the question: What does this space look like?
Curation asks: What does this space mean?
Meaning cannot be purchased or assembled quickly. It emerges from composition, from tension, from restraint, and from authorship.
When a space carries meaning, it carries identity. And identity is what allows a place to endure beyond trends, images, and immediate recognition.
This is why I curate rather than decorate.
And why the mix—custom, collected, and editor-produced—is not a method, but a language.