The opening of Charlotte Kerner’s book about Eileen Gray is almost too good to be true. That is precisely why it sticks in the memory. In the 1980s, she finds herself in a furniture shop without any particular purpose, more in passing than in search of anything specific. Then she is drawn to a small side table: steel, glass, height-adjustable, as light as a thought and yet astonishingly striking. She sees it and simply buys it. At this moment, she doesn’t know that this table was designed
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