MY LIFE, MY STYLE
The artist Indre Serpytyte-Roberts’ London home and wardrobe are filled with creative treasures
‘The important thing is to love what you do. Work and life are not so separate any more,’ says the Lithuanian artist Indre SerpytyteRoberts when we meet at her seven-storey home in Fitzrovia. Behind a heavy metal door, the former office block has been transformed into an art-filled space that could almost rival the great institutions that have exhibited her work, including the Photographer’s Gallery, Tate Modern and New York’s MoMA. ‘I love the building because it was bombed during the war and has a dual personality; the exterior is very delicate late-Victorian architecture and the interior is tough and made from thick concrete,’ she says.
With its sleek grey surfaces and high ceilings, the house is the perfect backdrop for the astonishing assembly of sculpture, photography and textiles that Serpytyte has built up with her husband, the property developer and contemporary-art collector David Roberts. The couple have lived here for more than 10 years, and have furnished the house with beautiful items from 1stdibs and Pamono. ‘I’m always on the lookout for Danish design,’ says Serpytyte. ‘Plus, I think Brazilian furniture makers from the Fifties and Sixties are amazing.’
Serpytyte’s own evocative work finds beauty in sombre themes such as memory, trauma and loss. Her studio is in the
basement, which she says, ‘is a true blessing, because I’m free to roam down there whenever I want’. One room holds miniature wooden models of Lithuanian family homes that were used by the Soviet secret service for interrogating prisoners, part of an ongoing piece entitled Former NKVD – MVD – MGB – KGB Buildings. There is also a poignant display of vases made from spent ammunition shells by the million women ‘munitionettes’ who played a crucial role in Birmingham’s wartime arms factories. ‘Artists are visual people, and ideas come from everywhere,’ she explains. ‘I think you have to be honest about what touches you and what you believe in.’
Serpytyte was born in the seaside resort town of Palanga in western Lithuania, on the shores of the Baltic Sea, and spent the first eight years of her life living under the Soviet regime. ‘In a way, it was an idyllic childhood because I grew up on the beach, but when I think back, we had so little,’ she says. ‘I remember my grandma had a phrase – “Be careful what you say, the walls have ears.” You were always aware that someone was watching. Even in my art class there was not much free thinking.
‘Once, when I was eight, we were given some linen and felt in a textiles class to shape into a cat. I made this abstract work and I got so told off by the teacher.’
When Serpytyte was 14, her mother married an Englishman and the family moved to Fowey in Cornwall, where her passion for art was allowed to flourish. ‘If I had stayed in the Soviet Union I would have been expected to be a lawyer, doctor or accountant, which counted as “proper” professions.’ She went on to study editorial photography at the University of Brighton, before taking her masters at the Royal College of Art in London. In 2009, soon after graduating, she was awarded the Hoopers Gallery and Metro Imaging prizes for her ‘1944–1991’ series, which was then acquired by the V&A for its photography collection. For the past two years Serpytyte has been represented by the contemporaryart gallery Parafin, for which she is preparing
‘You have to be honest about what touches you and what you believe in’
a new solo show set to open at the end of March. ‘They support me so well as a female artist and allow me to grow and develop my language,’ she says. ‘I think it’s really important actually, because commercially we’re still not supported as the male artists are.’
It was through the RCA that Serpytyte was introduced to Roberts, who was so impressed that he immediately bought her whole body of work. The couple’s archive now consists of more than 3,000 pieces by 600 artists, including Bridget Riley, Damien Hirst, Wolfgang Tillmans and Sarah Lucas. ‘I think David is definitely the born collector; I’m more hesitant to make a decision,’ Serpytyte says. ‘But we have very similar tastes, so it makes a great partnership – there have only been two things in 10 years that we’ve disagreed on, so it’s not bad going.’
In the living-room, the outstanding works of art include a swirling Cecily Brown painting and an enormous photograph by Andreas Gursky: ‘We had to take the banisters out to get that in, so it’s not moving!’ There is also Kevin Frances Gray’s Ghost Girl, a white marble statue of a young woman, veiled by strings of glass crystal beads that pull back to reveal a skeletal face. A glass cabinet contains a Louise Bourgeois stuffed-head sculpture made out of a pink fur coat given to her in the late Nineties by her gallerist Robert Miller, and there is a life-like pug sculpture by Cathie Piklington perched on its own chair.
Serpytyte’s wardrobe is just as carefully curated. On the day of the Bazaar shoot,
she is dressed in elegant separates from Joseph, with fluffy Simone Rocha slippers and a Brunello Cucinelli robe on standby in between outfits. ‘Day to day, my style is classic and pared-down,’ she says. ‘I’m usually drawn to the quality of the fabric and the cut, rather than an obvious brand.’ Consequently, her walk-in wardrobe is filled with bespoke suits by Alex Eagle, Tibi cashmere, plenty of ‘old Celine’, and chic pieces from the Row, Gabriela Hearst, Rosetta Getty and Rachel Comey. ‘I love Hermès’ accessories and Manolo Blahniks for their sparkle,’ she says. ‘I like to wear Cartier and Jaeger-LeCoultre but it takes me a long time to decide on an item of jewellery as it’s a big investment. As with everything, I like pieces that I know will be with me for ever.’