DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS?

I rarely answer that question in the affirmative—there is just so danged much that I don’t know.  For example, an ever informed friend of widespread interests  sent these photographs of a recently redecorated French commuter train, asking “Do you know this?”, and indeed the answer was ‘No—but Wow’

I’ve no doubt that all my design savvy readers and everyone else in the blogosphere already knew, but it had escaped me, and I’m enchanted at the juxtaposition.  How could anyone be bored or tired on this commute?  Take note, Amtrak, take note.
PS:  Speaking of those many things I don’t know, it does little good even when I do know things.  For example, even though other friends had informed me ages ago that the recent anonymous ‘Property of a Lady’ sale at Stair Galleries in Hudson NY was actually the property of Brooke Astor, it never occurred to my summer-addled brain to mention it—until of course I read it in another blog, weeks later.  Oh well, you don’t come to me for current events, I suspect.  Besides, I was far more interested in session 2 on Sautrday,  the contents of the late decorator Keith Irvine’s house in Carmel New York.  Many of the items were more to my taste—wonderful neo-classical sculpture and bas relief galore.  The always delightful Mr. Irvine was a sometimes visitor to the Dilettante’s shop, and in fact, when I last saw the dining room of that house published, it contained a set of grain painted chairs purchased from me.  For the catalog and sales results of the Astor/Irvine auctions, click HERE.

Meanwhile, back on the train:

HOUSE TOUR 1: Parker House

Old houses that have had long family occupancy have an atmosphere and romance that cannot be easily faked. In our town, one such house is Parker House, a landmark which has surveyed the local scene since 1812.  Built for Robert Parker, whose wife Ruth was daughter of Joseph Wood, one of the founders of the town, it is a handsome four-square Federal, amply and well proportioned, with later Colonial Revival enhancements.  This is one of several houses in town that carry the probably apocryphal legend of having been stopped in mid-construction during the war of 1812, when we were briefly British again. The local parson left behind a journal of his days, and whether or not it is true that the other constructions were interrupted,  we know that he continued working on his own new house nearby, for he records hearing the cannons of battle in  Hampden on a warm September afternoon while shingling the roof.

  After a succession of owners in the 19th century, the house was purchased in 1900 by Mrs. Virgil Kline, a descendant of Mrs. Parker’s sister Edith Wood Hinckley.  Mrs. Kline, married to the chief attorney for the Rockefeller interests in Cleveland, had had an interesting career as the manager and owner of the Boston Ideal Opera Company, a travelling light opera company that was instrumental in bringing Gilbert and Sullivan performance to America.  Mrs. Kline’s own turreted and shingled summer house, ‘Ideal Lodge’, was just up the road from Parker House.  (For the story of that house, which should be read in conjunction with this post, click HERE:)  

Parker House as it appears today
Parker House as it appeared before the renovations of 1900 (Photograph courtesy of Maine Historic Preservation  Commission)
After a gentle renovation by Mrs.Kline’s architect, George Clough of Boston, Parker house acquired new porticos and french door, with a grand balustrade around the eaves, giving the house the proper New England ancestral air that Mrs. Kline, an early collector of local antiques, sought.  The house became the summer home of Mrs. Kline’s sister, Mrs. Frederick Augustus Merrill, who furnished the house with family artifacts and antiques collected locally.  In 1916, the property was conveyed to Mrs. Merrill, and has descended to her great-grandson, who has been restoring and improving the house since taking possession, with a sensitive eye to its unique character, while at the same time making it practical for the 21st century, and respecting the gently worn and faded qualities that give the house much of its aristocratic air.  His intelligent and subtle approach gives rebuke to many who have gut renovated similar houses up here (if you want a condo in Greenwich, buy a condo in Greenwich, or build a new house don’t strip a beautiful old house of its elegant features and character.  Why be ordinary when you can be special?
Parker House is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
After the 1900 renovations, Parker House was almost an ideal of the Colonial Revival movement

The Parlor as it appeared in the early 1900′s, with an 1830 Boston made piano  and one of a group of family portraits painted by J. Harvey Young

The interior was little altered in the Clough renovations.  In the hall, the robustly paneled front door and wide sidelights added by Clough give more light and presence to the hall, but the simple Federal moldings and newel post were retained.

The parlor as it appears today, with more of the family portraits by Young.  Dr. Frederick A. Merrill is over the fireplace
The modern chinoiserie wallpaper is a licensed Winterthur design

The wide pine board dado under the chair rail was boldly faux grained, probably in the 1830′s or 40′s,, to look like Honduran mahogany.    

French doors were added in 1900 to access the new side proticos flanking the parlor and library, giving a more expansive air to the square rooms

In true Colonial Revival fashion, with its strong sentiment for the past, the original  kitchen, with its huge cooking fireplace and bake oven, became the dining room in the 1900 renovations.  A new kitchen was installed in the service wing at rear.

The current owner removed partitions between the dining room, back hall and  a sitting room to make one large room, over 40 feet long, with three exposures.  He broke the length, and masked a difference in ceiling heights, with  antique Doric columns that echo those of the porticoes outside
Looking through to the front room
The ell kitchen was redesigned by the current owner, with a new window over the vintage stove opening  up space.

The upper hall

The brass bed warmer, designed to hold hot coals which would then  be run between the sheets to warm the bed  in earlier times was a favorite decorative accessory for the centrally heated Colonial Revival.   The one seen here to the right of a bedroom fireplace is still in place 100 years later.

A tester bed and printed cotton curtains and hangings, with a William Morris inspired paper, give this room proper Colonial Revival street cred.

Most of the contemporary pictures in this post were taken during a benefit house tour.  Despite the fact that there were 30-50 people wandering through the house at any time, only once did a person get in the photos (followed by so many others that I gave up—never have I seen so many people emerge from one bedroom).

The owner has created this video showing the evolution of the house from 1812-2012.

The vintage photographs are from the collection of the owner, and from other local collections.   Thanks to the owner for permission to post about his fascinating house.

THERE’S STILL TIME

Bad Dilettante.   I had intended to make short posts all summer—about things of interest, little ideas that interest me, events taking place—but it didn’t happen.  Trying to describe what August on the Maine Coast is like for those of us who work here in Vacationland while all of America is visiting, and a year’s worth of events are scheduled in the middle two weeks, is like trying to describe being hit by a speeding train while parachuting off a the Empire State Building in high winds while waiting for a plane in an airport in Calcutta during a monsoon during the lightening round of Jeopardy while trying to play the kazoo standing on one’s head 40 feet underwater during a triathalon without a paddle.  No, never mind.  That doesn’t even begin to adequately describe it.  Let’s just say it’s intense, not for the disorganized or faint of heart and one doesn’t get many breaks to sit down and upload pictures to the internet.
There are several particularly interesting museum exhibits up here this summer.  The big summer exhibit at the Farnsworth Museum in Rockland features works by American Impressionist Frank Benson, all painted at his summer home on North Haven Island in Penobscot Bay.  It’s a sweet, lovely show.  
‘Rainy Day’ by Frank Weston Benson, depicting the artist’s own living  room on North Haven.
The Living Room today, with later murals by Benson  (VRBO)
Benson’s North Haven Farm is available for summer rental, for those who want total immersion.  Click HERE 
Also at the Farnsworth is a fascinating little show, ‘The Homestead Project’.  The Farnsworth Museum’s campus includes the 1850 Greek Revival homestead of the Farnsworth family, a classic in-town Greek Revival village house..  For the Homestead Project, ten architects were invited by assistant curator Jane Bianco to submit designs for a 21st century house for the property, an urban house for the new century.

The Farnsworth Homestead

Architect Bruce Norelius, Devin Saez, Associate, and Brian Briggs, model builder, of Bruce Norelius Studio, Los Angeles, California and Maine (From The Homestead Project)
Christopher Campbell of Christopher Campbell Architecture, Portland, Maine (From the Homestead Project) 

The catalog for The Homestead Project may be browsed online HERE

At the Portland Museum of Art, is an exhibit of Frederick Edwin Church’s Maine paintings and sketches, on loan from Olana, the Church homestead near Hudson New York and curated by John Wilmerding.  Sublime indeed.

Twilight: Mt, Desert Island, Maine (1865)
Mt. Desert Island from Dorr Mtn. (July-Aug., 1850)
Mt. Katahdin fromm Millinocket Camp (1895)

Of course, given my compulsion for comparison, it is irrestible to add this view of Mt. Katahdin by Marsden Hartley in contrast to Church’s vision:

Mt. Katahdin # 2, by Marsden Hartley (Metropolitan Museum)

The Mount Desert Historical Society’s Schoolhouse Museum in Somesville is a wonderful exhibit about the Mt. Desert-born architect Fred Savage 1861-1924), curated by Gerard Vasisko.   Savage worked for a time for Peabody & Stearns, who heavily influenced his work.  He also was associated for a time with Sidney Stratton, a former Richard Morris Hunt apprentice who shared office space with McKim, Mead & White, and was sometimes known as ‘the almost partner’.   Savage’s debt to all these designers is obvious, but he was a fine and original designer in his own right.  Although he worked in many of the eclectic styles of the era, it is the shingled houses he designed around Mt. Desert Island for which he is best known, and which almost define the standard for a summer cottage in that region.   Like so many of architects around the turn of the last century, he had a fine hand with drawings and renderings, as clearly displayed in this show.  Augmenting the drawings are vintage photographs and papers and catalogs from his office, from the collections of the Mt. Desert Historical Society and the Northeast Harbor Public Library.

Cottage for Mrs. Edith Randolph, Bar Harbor
Anna Clark Cottage, Harbourside, Northeast Harbor
Elevation for Clark Cottage (NEHL)
Unbuilt Cottage by Savage (NEHL Archives)
Rendering for Cottage for Frederick Jackson Turner, Northeast Harbor (NEHL Archives)
‘High Seas’, the Rudolph Brunnow cottage at Bar Harbor, by Savage
Design for dining room fireplace surround, Brunnow Cottage (MDIHS)

An exhibit I haven’t seen, but intend to, features the recently restored 19th century panorama, by many artists, of John Bunyan’s ‘Pilgrim’s Progress by the Saco Museum.   800 feet long, it is displayed in the old Saco Mills building.  It may not be high art, and who reads Pilgrim’s progress anymore, but the opportunity to see an 800 foot long painting is irresistible, no?  For more about this fascinating project, Click HERE

There are so many other exhibits of interest this summer in Maine Museums, like the exhibit of 46 items from the Allie Ryan Steamship Collection of the Maine Maritime Academy, at the Castine Historical Society and the Wilson Museum in Castine, or ‘American Moderns’ at the Colby College Art Museum, featuring the work of Walker Evans, Berenice Abbott and Margaret Bourke-White, that I haven’t had time to see yet, but worthy of attention.  

CAN YOU SAY "BICENQUINQUAGENARY"?

It’s all right, neither can I, and the preferred word is Sestercentennial, anyway.

Oh, you want me to tell you what it means?  Sheesh.  Don’t you people have Google?  You think I came up with this on my own?  Here:

The preferred term for a 250th anniversary isSestercentennial.  The number 2½ is expressed in Latin as “half-three”. The term relates to being halfway from the second integer to the third integer. In Latin this is “Sestertius” which is a contraction of semis (halfway) tertius (third) – hence Sestercentennial.

Other terms that have been used include:

  • Semiquincentennial - Probably a modern coined term: semi- (half) × quin (5) × cen(t)- (100) × centennial (250 years).
  • Bicenquinquagenary - Used by Princeton University in 1996 and Washington and Lee University in 1999. It is a coined word for an anniversary of 250 years, but the elements of the word literally refer to an anniversary of 10,000 years, as follows: bi- (2) × cen(t)- (100) × quinquagenary (50 years).
  • Quarter-millennial - Meaning one fourth of one thousand years.
Now you know.  You’re welcome.

Our little village celebrated the 250th anniversary of European settlement this weekend with a town wide party.  Events marked the occasion and included the historic schooner Bowdoin sailing into the harbor as part of a reenactment of the first landing.   I missed the Bowdoin, and to my sorrow I had to miss the re-dedication of the monument to the first settlers south of the village, and the boat parade in the harbor the next day.  I did go through the village in time to catch the dedication of a sculpture ‘Spirit of the Sea Wind’ in the little waterfront park named for my grandfather.  As regular readers well know, my facade of brittle sophistication crumbles in the presence of such events, and this was no exception.  The day was hot but beautiful, and a children’s band played the Star Spangled Banner—not dry Dilettante eye in the house.

There were many other events, but my favorite was the fireworks display over the Harbor on Sunday evening—I am a sucker for bright lights and sparkly displays.   I wandered downhill to the village and as I reached the town square, the fireworks began.  I couldn’t find the camera that enjoys taking pictures at night, so had to use one that didn’t quite, and the gentle reader will have to mostly use his imagination.  It may not have been Monte Carlo, but on a balmy summer evening, in a sentimental mood, the bursts of light reflected over the millpond and harbor from the Main St. bridge—all pretty perfect.



Big applause to Lynne and the committee

Happy Birthday Village Formerly Known as Township #5.

COMING EVENTS

It’s House and Garden Tour season in Down East Maine. This week there are two tours worthy of mention for our house and garden loving readers.
THE BLUE HILL HOUSE TOUR
There will be a house tour on Thursday the 26th, sponsored by the Jonathan Fisher House and Blue Hill Historical Society museums in Blue Hill.  Eight houses dating from 1812 to 1948, plus the two museums will be featured.   The emphasis of this year’s tour, which coincides with Blue Hill’s 250th anniversary (For those who don’t know, a 250th is a Sestercentennial).  Tickets are $20.00, and may be purchased in advance.  For more details, click HERE

Parker House, Blue Hill
Highlights of the Blue Hill tour include ‘Parker House’, a handsome 1812 Federal with later Colonial Revival enchancements by Boston architect George Clough, which is under restoration by a descendant of the early owners, and ‘Blueberry Hill’, a 1932/1938 New England style summer ‘cottage’ designed by James Blauvelt, a Princeton, New Jersey architect.  Blauvelt is best known today for the estate he designed for the Church family at Montauk New York, owned for many years by Andy Warhol. 
‘Blueberry Hill’
The shore front playhouse at ‘Blueberry Hill’ was featured in Architectural Forum in 1937.  Also featured will be three classic Shingle style summer cottages, including one with a dipsomaniac ghost.
‘Elwin Cove’ in Blue Hill, built for inventor/manufacturer E.J. Brooks in 1908
Proceeds of the Blue Hill tour support the Jonathan Fisher House and the Blue Hill Historical Society .   At the Fisher House, in addition to their important collection of folk art, may be seen an early orchard restoration, to original plan, in progress, and at the Holt House, a gem of an Asher Benjamin inspired Federal, a highlight is the Adelphi reproduction wallpaper, based on an original
 
MOUNT DESERT OPEN GARDEN DAY
And over on Mt. Desert Island, the Garden Club of Mount Desert is hosting a tour of six extraordinary gardens on private estates, including those of Rosserne, one of Northeast Harbor’s finest shingle style summer houses.  On the beautiful lawn sweeping down to Somes Sound is an ancient apple tree, whose move from Ellsworth to Northeast Harbor famously tied up traffic for an entire day.  Other gardens include those of ‘Southerly’, a cliffside cottage in Seal Harbor, and a Robert Stern designed house nearby.
‘Rosserne’, designed by Fred Savage in 1891
‘Southerly’
Proceeds of the Mount Desert Open Garden Days benefit several worthy public gardens, including The Wild Gardens of Acadia , and The Beatrix Farrand Society at Garland Farm, last home and garden of the great designer.
For more details about the Mount Desert Open Garden Day, click HERE

INTERMISSION: MAY INTO JUNE, AND TWO PARADES

Everyone has a favorite time of year.  Mine has just ended, and lovely though the months ahead will be, I’m a bit triste at the parting, always too fast, too soon.   Spring is hard won in eastern Maine, but once arrived, it is sweet and delicate.  Suddenly in mid-May, we burst into bloom, and Dilettantes, usually jaded, forget the cares of the world and burst into song.   Against a backdrop of fresh greens come the blossoms—tulips, apple trees, cherries, and above all, lilacs, making old New England villages young again.  At Memorial day comes a parade and bittersweet remembrance.  The lilacs fade, and as quickly are replaced by fields of lupine, making the whole world seem an impressionist landscape.  The air is sweet, and in the ever longer evenings, those fields are alight with fireflies, blurring the horizon between starry sky and meadow. 
A wild apple tree at the edge of my meadow lights up against a passing storm in May

This year, our little village celebrates its 250th anniversary, and floats in the Memorial Day parade marked local pride at the birthday.   That same week, on Friday, the elementary school children held another parade, a happy ode to Spring.  We’re a musical town, somewhat famously so, and even the hardest hearted among us on the street that 1st day of June could fail to be delighted as the school band,  a jazz band, and then two steel drum bands marched up Maine Street.  As they reached the stately old Town Hall, they stopped and sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to the town.
I may sometimes crave other places, other climes, more sophisticated pleasures, but in those sweet, fleeting weeks leading up to summer, there is no other way I want the world to be.

For Memorial Days past, click HERE and HERE

And thanks to Paul for Memorial Day photos, and Laurie for the School Parade

BED-SITS

Flipping through the 1920 edition of House & Garden’s Second Book of Interiors, I passed many handsome rooms, most of which betrayed their time and place—typical Long Island country house drawing rooms, all correctly Georgian, stockbroker Tudor libraries, and Colonial Dining rooms.   Suddenly, the room above jumped out at me, and demanded a closer look.  It was something more unusual, rich, yet looser and more imaginative after the acres of floral cretonne and hooked rugs of most of the book.  Here was something bolder—a bedroom with drawing room pretensions—the furniture well chosen, loose and sparely arranged in the vaulted ceilinged space, long French windows, curtains freely draped, facing each other on two sides.  Old black and white photograph is deceptive.  My first instinct was that the room was likely in traditional Chinese export color schemes—all celadon and rose.   The bold Tibetan tiger rug should have clued me otherwise.  The caption describes something far more dramatic for this room
Okay, that got my attention.  I googled Mr. Thomas—the house was called Huntland (click HERE and HERE for more), and he himself was prominent in the foxhunting world in the land of silver stirrup cups and good English furniture.  How he came to have interiors of such imagination, or who did them for him, eluded me, but clearly he was a guy with some dash.
The room seems to be missing from the history of Chinoiserie  in America in the 20th century, which includes the Chinese Room at Beauport, not published by House & Garden until eight years after the Thomas Room.

 Or Conde Nast’s ballroom, decorated by Elsie de Wolfe, with its famous set of Chinese papers from Beaudesert, an Anglesey family house in England

And of course, the Chinese drawing room of 1930 at Henry DuPont’s Winterthur House, whose wallpaper came from the same set as that in the Chinese room in Beauport.  The DuPont room is seen below in a stereoview as it appeared when the family lived there, from the Winterthur Digital Archives.

I was tempted to veer off to Middleburg with more about the Thomas house, but instead decided to contemplate some the bedroom’s spiritual descendants, such as Pauline de Rothschild’s Chinoiserie bedroom at Chateau Mouton, as famously photographed by Horst for Vogue, below.

Or Nancy Lancaster’s famous bedroom at Haseley Court.   One is tempted to wonder whether Mrs. Lancaster, in her own Virginia foxhunting days as Mrs. Field and later Mrs. Tree, had ever visited Huntlands and seen the glamorous Thomas bedroom.  Certainly her famous bedroom there, despite stylistic differences has much in common.

Last but not least, the longer I looked at the Thomas room, the more familiar the bed became.  And sure enough it is apparently the same bed for which Doris Duke paid $400.00  at a shop called The Flea Market in 1942, sold for many times that ($20,000 to be exact) at the 2004 Christies auction of her effects.  

UPDATE: Perhaps I should have followed through on Joseph B. Thomas after all, for had I thought about it a moment longer—or not been so focused on dramatic bedrooms, the lightbulb would have gone off and I would have realized that he was the same Joseph B. Thomas who developed River House in New York, possibly the city’s most glamorous apartment building, and who was married to Wells Fargo heiress and muralist Clara Fargo Thomas, whose house up here is one of the epochal houses of the 1930′s, and which I blogged about HERE

AND TODAY IN NYSD:  In ‘House’ I interview Michael Kathrens, author of  American Splendor, the Residential Architecture of Horace Trumbauer, newly revised by Acanthus Press.  Click HERE

I RISKED MY LIFE TO TAKE THIS PHOTOGRAPH

No, seriously, I really did, although undeniably the bar lowers for what can be considered dangerous risk in late middle age.  No daring do on ocean sailing boats, no climbing of sheer cliffs.  No, what I did was merely park illegally for five minutes and step into the middle of speeding commuter traffic (those suburbanites do love to drive their Audis at inappropriate speed) on Rte. 9 in Scarborough New York.

I had to spend three days last week in the Tarrytown region of the Hudson Valley, researching various Maine homes of a family who stuck oil, loaded up their truck and moved to the Hills of Pocantico.  The Hudson valley has always been one of my favorite outing destinations, combining as it does world class scenic grandeur, a romantic history and one of the country’s great collections of domestic architecture.   Despite the steady march of Dry-Vit and office parks, the Sleepy Hollow neighborhood around Tarrytown and Scarborough in the lower valley still offers much to see, not the least of which is these dramatic gate on Broadway, as the confusing network of routes 9 are often known on their run up the valley.

They are the former entrance to Beechwood, an estate dating back to the 18th century.  They were commissioned in the early 20th century by the estate’s then owner, Frank Vanderlip, one of the powers behind First National City Bank.  His architect was Rockefeller family favorite William Welles Bosworth, a Beaux Arts trained designer with a special talent for cold, cerebral evocations of the drama of ancient Rome and Greece.   For the reader who has never passed these gates, it should be mentioned that the scale is imperial.  Although the beautiful Grecian inspired iron gate is kept low to increase the dramatic effect, low in the case is actually around feet high at the crest, and the superb columns, rescued from a great demolished 19th century New York building—I once knew which, the answer now eludes me—are well over twenty feet.  Mr. Vanderlip must have felt like an emperor, or more aptly, Croesus, when he arrived home after a hard day of counting piles of money.

Although the gate is abandoned, the estate itself is condominums, and kept in good order, including the Roman gardens and pool added by Vanderlip, also designed by Bosworth.  The house, originally a relatively simple structure built in the 18th century, was repeatedly enlarged through the 19th and 20th centuries, is one of those places where degrees of separation abound.   The estate was purchased in the late 19th century by H. Walter Webb, a vice president of the New York central, whose brother, Seward, married the boss’s daughter, whose sister Margaret Vanderbilt Shepard owned the estate across the street by McKim, Mead & White, now the Sleepy Hollow Country Club.  Webb’s widow, Leila Griswold, married Edith Wharton’s partner in decorating crime, the confirmed bachelor Ogden Codman, whose first big  job had been for Margaret Shepard’s brother in Newport.  And so it goes.  
 The early Vanderlip years in the 20th century were the estate’s most most glamorous era.  Intellectually inclined, Narcisse and Frank Vanderlip built a Montessori school and private theater (above) also designed by Bosworth, on the grounds for their and the neighborhood children.  The students later came to include those of John Cheever, who rented a charming studio house on the estate in the mid-20th century (Susan Cheever would return there briefly as a teacher).  
By the 1970′s, semi-abandoned, the mansion itself became the setting for Merchant-Ivory’s first production, Savages.  As with all their movies, the set is the star, and James Ivory’s memory of that shoot (click HERE, pg.7) is worth a read.
Present day views of Beechwood, and the rotunda library and ballroom added by Bosworth, via Zillow
UPDATE 1:  An esteemed and ancient reader with sharp eyes sends this link to a Gant commercial filmed at Beechwood.  Would that I looked so lean and fit in my seersucker jacket :-(

UPDATE 2:   One of the pleasures of blogging is that if I don’t know it, surely a commenter will (thank-goodness).   The columns, whose origin I couldn’t remember, were salvaged from the old New York Customs House designed by Isiah Rogers at 55 Wall Street in 1836-42.  After the Customs house removed to Bowling Green, the building was taken over by Vanderlip’s National City Bank, remodeled by McKim Mead & White.  Vanderlip had two of the columns, four stories high and turned from single blocks of Quincy granite  Think about what I just wrote.  Single pieces of granite.  Not the pyramids, perhaps, but a fairly huge engineering feat for the time..   No less amazing is that two stories of the columns’ height is buried below ground in their current location.

HOW A SHORT POST BECOMES A LENGTHY POST

My intentions are always sterling—to post a short, concise essay and two or three pictures about something that I hope will be of passing interest to those who are inclined to be interested by such things.  But things always go astray, and before I know it, I’ve rambled on.  Therefore, as a public service, a demonstration of how my short ideas become long ones:

First, something catches my fancy.  In this case it is a painting by the distinguished interior portraitist, David Payne (1907-1985),  of the drawing room in the Beacon Hill town house of Mr. & Mrs. Ronald Lyman.  The picture was published in House & Garden’s New England issue–August, 1937, if I remember correctly.  I like the room very much—architecturally elegant with its crisp woodwork, curving wall, and beautiful Italian statuary marble fireplace, with caryatids supporting a classical frieze.  It is old school New England, stylish and rich, with its Italian sofa, french chairs, damask walls, and at the right, a Bilbao looking glass, no doubt brought back in an ancestor’s ship.

Of course, I then should mention that the Lyman House at 40 Beacon Street is one of a pair of brick bow front townhouses designed by the great Alexander Parris, overlooking the Boston Common. Parris was one of the first New England architects to break out of the box with elegant Greco-Federal designs with oval rooms, curved walls, segmental arched ceilings and other details that gave weight to the aspirations of the early 19th century plutocrats for whom he designed.  In his interiors one can see forms which Delano and Aldrich would make seem modern all over again in some of their most elegant designs of the 1920′s and 30′s.  But already I’m off the subject.  It is worth mentioning that the land on which these houses sit was owned in the 18th century by the painter John Singleton Copley.  The Lyman house was built for hotelier Daniel Parker, and its mirror twin at 39 for Nathan Appleton, whose daughter Fanny married the poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow there in 1843.  These houses, in what was the finest location in Boston in their day are quintessentially with the elegant bow fronts that define their neighborhood, yet with their long second story drawing room windows , they also recall Regency London, the unruly Common sitting in for an English square.
 Historic American Buildings Survey, LOC
And there the post could end—but of course, it won’t.   A fourth floor was added to the houses in the 1880s.  By 1914, the Appleton house at 39 had become The Women’s City Club of Boston.  In 1938, just one year after the painting above was published, the Lyman House was purchased by the Women’s City Club and annexed to its neighbor.   And that same year, the house was recorded for the Historic American Buildings Survey, and a photograph of the drawing room, post-Lyman, its damask wall covering in tatters, was taken as it was being renovated.
And there too, the post could end, but wait, I found a picture of the drawing room as it appeared in the Women’s City Club era, all  bland good taste, very period room, with ‘correct’ furniture and safe decorations—gone is the rich cosmopolitanism of the Lyman era.
But one can’t end a post without a picture of the exteriors of numbers 39 and 40 can one?  Below is a view of Beacon Street from the Common in taken in 1938.  Number 40 is at the right.  The gray granite building at left center is the Somerset Club, remodeled from the David Sears mansion, also designed by Alexander Parris, who was also architect of Quincy Market. 
Courtesy Boston Public Library Photostream, Flickr
Numbers 40 & 39 Beacon Street, present day view  (Wikipedia Commons)
By this point, I really could end the post, and it would still be of reasonable length, but how can I?  For the House & Garden article also included another David Payne painting—of the Lyman’s dining room at Number 40, with yet another handsome mantel, a beautiful Chinese rug, and family portraits.

And, in for a penny, in for a pound, I might as well include a photograph from the Historic American Buildings Survey, of one of the beautiful interior hardware of the Lyman House, early 19th century cut glass, either English or American, and notice the beautiful close grain of the Honduran mahogany doors.

At which point I’ve decided to include the other interior views I found along the way, including the vestivule, with its inexplicable addition of an 18th century cupboard:

HABS

The hall, with its complex arches and false dome, is as sophisticated  as anything of its era in New England, and recalls, to my mind at least, John Soane.

And as few things make me weaker than early 19th century American classical architecture, this view, with elegant interior fan, and built in bookcases by one of Boston’s fine early Federal era cabinetmakers, must be included.

HABS
And of course, this extraordinary Retour de l’Egypte chimney piece must be included, a bit of Thomas Hope in Federalist Boston:
HABS

And the third floor stair hall, with its unexpected coffered dome:

HABS

The Women’s City Club, no doubt inspired by the Colony Club in New York, added this trellised dining room, as well as a ballroom and roof terrace.

The 20th century history of the two houses is too complicated to unravel on a simple trip through Google—too many writers, especially of the real estate variety, have garbled, joined and confused the separate stories and identities of the houses.  Many more photographs of interiors exist for both, but for now I have stuck with the Lyman half of the building—after all, even I have to end somewhere, right?

In the early 1990′s, the Women’s City Club disbanded, and sold the twin houses.  A developer turned them into condominiums, although four of the five Lyman house units were occupied as a single residence by Jack Welch (yes, that Jack Welch) until he moved back to New York.  More recently, the Lyman house has been on the market, selling for 27,000,000, a Boston residential record.

And that, kiddies, is how a Dilettante post gets so long.  And at that, I resisted the temptation to ramble on about what a pleasure it was to visit the houses back in ’79, when the WCCB opened the house to the public in an attempt to raise funds.  Also, I resisted the temptation to include a picture of Alexander Parris, who managed to live long enough to have his photograph made, or of his great work, Quincy Market, and I even almost gratuitously included Gilbert Stuart’s portrait of Boston Mayor Josiah Quincy, just because I liked the depiction of Quincy Market in the background.   I also avoided a segue into the story of social progressive Helen Storrow, wife of Boston Mayor James Storrow.  It was she who purchased the Appleton House for WCCB in 1914, because I would no doubt have wandered further off track into one of her pet projects, the moving of early American buildings to the Eastern States Exposition Fairgrounds, creating an idealized New England village called Storrowtown, the precursor of many of today’s assembled village msueums from Cooperstown to Sturbridge.  And for a brief second I even considered a segue into Daniel Parker’s famous hotel and the dinner rolls that bear its name.  But I resisted.  So many tangents, so little time.

But, perhaps you might like to see this Luxist story from 2008, about the sale of the Lyman House.  Click HERE (or if you just want pictures, click HERE.)  And for an earlier Dilettante post about the ancestral country seat of the Lyman family, click HERE

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