Malin Giddings - Tuscany Treasures
by Ann Seymour
Photography by Frankie Frankeny
June 1999

She's one of the top real estate people in San Francisco. Her sales are approaching the $100 million mark as the century draws to a close. Her name is Malin Giddings and the Gazette recently paid a call.

Dressed in slacks and a turtleneck sweater, no jewelry, Malin answered the door with her famous smile. She's a gorgeous blonde Swede with brown eyes and the body of a 16-year-old. (Perhaps one should say the body 16-year-olds aspire to, but seldom achieve.) She claims she eats everything but moves around a lot, especially on the ski slopes here and in Europe. A skilled linguist, she combines soft femininity with efficiency, drive and intelligence. The woman overflows with energy.

Her home is a tribute to her taste and imagination, as well as her capacity to visualize. Here must be one of the secrets of her success: she can look at a property and see how to transform it into something special. Thats certainly what she did here, aided by interior design specialist Arthur McLaughlin.
Malin bought a four-unit building on a small Russian Hill side street. The building rises straight up from the sidewalk without parsley, and it was surrounded on three other sides with buildings, one of which is the backside of a garage.

Malin grew up in Europe, and especially loves Tuscany, an emotion to which many can relate. When you turn a corner in Tuscany, you never know what you'll find. Suddenly the street may open into a courtyard centered by a fountain; it may open onto a plaza from which several other streets fan out, or it may just wind around in an intriguing way so that you glimpse stairways and other entrances without being sure where they lead. You might find balconies, eaves, a village within a village, or a city seen through a window. This is the spirit Malin set out to capture.

She changed everything, inside and out. Originally, you walked up a flight of stairs (the buildings ground floor is a garage), and found an enclosed entrance with a ceiling, walls on three sides, and doors to her house and the guest apartment on the fourth side.

Now you walk up the stairs and see one wall opened up. A see-through door leads you to a little area of stairs, big pots blooming with flowers, and that sense of discovery you have in a small village. Under a tall mirror on the opposite wall is a landscape painting. Above is a skylight letting in rays of sun. (Malin wanted not only the look of Tuscany but the light as well.)

The facade of the building is painted a terra cotta color with mustard and charcoal trim. Its adorned with architectural cornices and pediments picked up in salvage shops. The stairs and porch are fabricated from multi-colored inlaid terrazzo, and enhanced with architectural tidbits and potted flowers.
Once inside, a world of paintings, antiques, and artifacts from seemingly every era opens up. Looking around you see objects typical of upper class European houses; you also see objects popular here. Such eclecticism is unusual. Malin explains, I think like a European, so I want everything to look slightly worn and very comfortable. I like textures that have softened a bit with time and the patinas that only age can bring. I dont like anything to look decorated, planned, new, or stiff.

Many of her objects are family heirlooms, antiques from Sweden mixed with French, mostly, with an occasional piece from somewhere else. This is what one would expect of a continental. San Franciscans traditionally collect English and Asian antiques, or California landscape paintings from the 19th century and the Society of Six. San Franciscans favor oriental rugs.

Europeans prefer Aubussons. At the Giddings' home, one sees both traditions mixed, and the puzzle is: how could she acquire so many typical local items usually found in grandmother's house and still have time to sell real estate? The answer turned out to be quite simple.

Some people may remember Paul's, the flower shop on Polk Street where absolutely everyone from Pacific Heights went for flowers once a week (twice if there was a party). When Paul retired and downsized, he decided to sell many of his treasures. Malin bought them all.

The entry stairs of her home are covered with a bound sisal carpet in an unusual herringbone pattern. The walls are festooned with a pair of Chippendale red and gilt lacquer chinoiserie mirrors and a number of European landscape paintings. There's also a large pair of Chinese paintings with graceful foliage and charming pastel colors.
Upstairs, one sees more of her remodeling. She knocked down walls and eliminated the division between the original two units that occupied this floor. Where once walls and two doors stood, one now finds a colonnade that exposes an expansive library. The far wall has built-in bookcases, also trimmed with columns.

I like a room to be multipurpose, Malin says. This one, for instance, is a library, a place to relax, to work, whatever one wants. But at night I turn it into a dining room.

In the center of the room is an antique refractory table, typical of those one finds in libraries. This one has something different: hidden panels that pull out and extend its size so that it can seat up to 18 people. Malin arranges as many chairs as she needs around it, brings out the silver, porcelain and crystal, and is ready to party. Her circle of friends is international, and includes frequent European visitors.

The rooms books, paintings, oriental rugs, furnishings, and art objects make a marvelous background for a formal dinner. It's color scheme picks up some of the jewel tones of the rugs, but not slavishly so.

Silks and brocades abound, as well as velveteens, tapestries, and blended fabrics. Malin likes throws on sofas and chairs, and lots of pillows. Despite the formality of her collection, she and this is a priority with her always manages to make a room comfortable and inviting. Proceeding to the kitchen and a smaller dining area, one sees glass doors opening onto a terrace. A 19th C. wrought iron fence with exquisite fleurettes and other details that cant be duplicated today was cut into sections for an upstairs balcony. The leftover portion made a gate. The sections are supported with pilasters that look as if they were always there. The entire area, in fact, looks that way.

Next, Malin planted a grove of bamboo trees; theyre now tall. She painted the backside of the neighboring garage so that it resembles a Tuscan wall, sprinkled architectural fragments here and there, and bought some large terra cotta pots and some comfortable outdoor furniture. What else? Of course, a fountain.

Back inside the house, one traverses the passway which serves as a bar. Whats unusual here is that the small window looks out on a trompe loeil mural of wisteria. The kitchen has hardwood floors and white bakers marble counter like we had at home in Sweden, she says.

There are also butcher block surfaces; appliances are stainless steel. A dining area adjacent to the kitchen could be called informal, though the term doesnt quite seem to apply. A handsome 18th C. English bookcase displays porcelains and other treasures, Scalamandre silk graces the walls, and the antique chairs and settees are elegantly upholstered. The color scheme runs in a wide range emphasizing green, gold, and terra cotta. I like fabrics to blend but not quite match, she says.
The ceilings in this area and the kitchen appear to be of the intricately carved, leaded variety one so rarely sees. In the 19th century and earlier, they were made by hand, but now the technique is illegal because of lead toxins. (Not that anyone would have the skill today.) Malin achieved this effect by covering the ceilings with textured wallpaper and painting it white.

One other aspect among many deserves mention. A pair of tall doors has particularly beautiful hardware, suggesting magnificent contents. Open them and you discover a stacked washing machine and dryer.

Moving back toward the library, Malin makes a sweeping gesture. This is just the downstairs, she says. My living room, master bedroom, and guest room upstairs are the formal part of the house.
Hard to believe, but sure enough. The living room looks like a salon at Versailles. Its done in family antique furniture with a color scheme of grays, blues and pastels. A superb pair of French painted panels hangs over a sofa. They are arched, which indicated they originally were above doors, and the style is Fragonard. Sky blue dominates, and they complement the sweeping bay view from the windows opposite them.

The master bedroom had an off-center window, so Malin put the bed next to it, then draped the wall in a garland of silk to create continuity. The master bath looks out on the terrace through etched glass windows.

The guest room (or candy room) was decorated around some old family silks. Two of the colors, green and white, are picked up in the candy-striped silk of the pull-back curtains.
A silk pouf on the bed is trimmed with three-inch round silk paillettes in various colors which could be interpreted as up-scale gum drops. The other rooms upstairs, an office and a spare bathroom, have been dressed up by adding custom doors with special hardware.
The imagination and beauty of this house delight the beholder. One would suppose that the daughter of the man who headed the Nobel Foundation in Stockholm would be the brightest and the best just like the prize winners and Malin certainly is.

Ann Seymour is a free lance writer whose articles have appeared in the San Francisco Chronicle, San Jose Mercury News and Town & County Magazine.

Frankie Frankeny is a San Francisco-based food and interiors photographer. Her photographs have appeared in numerous publications, including Wine Spectator, People, and the Sunday San Francisco Examiner Magazine. She is also the photographer for Chronicle Books On Rice.