On the outskirts of China, a Greek Revival farmhouse with beautiful Ionic columns |
Not quite two hours later, after a drive through China, we arrived at Colby. The campus is a handsome one, created in the 1930’s. It is a classic of its era, the creation of one Dr. Bixler, then the ambitious president of what the then small regional college. Sitting on Mayflower Hill, its Georgian buildings and quadrangles were inspired by the great early Universities, including Harvard and the University of Virginia.
The original 19th century Colby College Campu |
The centerpiece is the Miller Library, a Colonial Revival building with a whiff of Independence Hall in its architecture. 191 feet high, it was, until the 1970s the tallest building in Maine. (Since you ask, the current tallest building is an apartment building in Portland. At 203 feet, it ranks 46th or 47th—depending on how you interpret the Wikipedia information—among each State’s tallest buildings. Only Vermont, North Dakota, and Wyoming rank higher, I mean, lower.)
The Miller Library on the ‘new’ campus at Colby College, for years the tallest building in Maine. |
Colby’s collection is well worth the visit. Among the works we didn’t see that day are:
John Singleton Copley
Mrs. Metcalf Bowler (Anne Fairchild), 1758-1759 Oil on canvas Gift of Mr. and Mrs. Ellerton M. Jetté |
Winslow Homer
The Trapper, 1870 Oil on canvas Gift of Mrs. Harold T. Pulsifer |
John Marin
Stonington, Maine, 1923 Watercolor and charcoal on paper 21 3/4 in. x 26 1/4 in. Gift of John Marin, Jr. and Norma B. Marin |
Fairfield Porter
Stephen and Kathy, 1963 Oil on canvas Museum purchase from the Jere Abbott Acquisitions Fund |
Regrouping, we decided to save the day by going through Rome—and then continuing on to South Solon and visit the South Solon meeting house, with its amazing frescoed walls, for our dose of art.
The last log drive on the Kennebec. In places, one sees the Kennebec as it appeared 240 years earlier, when Benedict Arnold led his troops upriver to Quebec during the American Revolution |
The ‘Empire Grill’, the old diner from the movie, had closed, and a sports bar offered no sustenance. On the strip heading out of town, we found a family restaurant, in what appeared to be a converted Pizza Hut—the architecture is unmistakeable. Perhaps here I should mention that a friend refers to the road out of Skowhegan as ‘the driveway to Quebec’, and one definitely senses the French Canadian influence in the area culture.
Poutine. Okay, so it wasn’t Lutece, but trust me, we licked the plate clean. |
We reached Solon in the mid-afternoon bellies full, arteries clogged (did I mention that we also had the restaurant’s home-made meatloaf sandwich, well prepared and delicious—comfort food on a crisp fall day,on the largest slices of bread I have ever, ever, ever seen? It was a sandwich for Brobdinagians). Solon is an old town, its streets lined with handsome buildings that have see better days. In this part of Maine, the way of life is often hard, employment scarce, and the smug pleasures of the coast, romanticized and ordered to the satisfaction of the well to do, are far behind.
Up in the middle of nowhere: the Solon hotel anchors the town. A friend said ‘Oh yeah, the Solon hotel. R.E.M. played there’. One learns to expect the unexpected in rural Maine. |
As in most of early 19th century Maine villages in more prosperous times, the evidence of talented builders using Asher Benjamin’s pattern books for inspiration can be found. This lovely little Greek Revival doorway, complete with triglyphs and metopes (however oddly spaced in the apex of the pediment) can be found on a Cape on Solon’s Main Street. In this part of Maine, tin roofs are the norm |
Across the street, this oddly shallow 19th century house, not even 12 feet deep, is irresistable. |
The road to South Solon |
At the meeting house, we spent a happy hour marveling at the 1950’s frescoes in the late afternoon fall light. While there, we were charmed by the appearance of a young man who had grown up in the neighborhood and had brought his son to see the murals and the pew where his father had sat when he was a boy. For a full account of the Meeting House and its frescoes, please click HERE
We decided to go home by way of Athens, and mapped out our trip, only to find that the road petered out to a single dirt lane. With the light waning, we decided this was not the day to be lost driving about the woods of Maine, and turned around and head down to I-95. All was not lost, though, for we were rewarded on that back road by this view of Saddleback Mountain and the Rangeley hills an hour distant.
Leaving the Meeting House, a rainbow illuminated a sky that echoed that of the frescoes within |
The view from a field near Athens. |
(Skowhegan was also the home town of Maine’s estimable Senator, Margaret Chase Smith. In this season of really silly presidential hopefuls, here story is worth recounting. Click HERE for the Dilettante on Mrs. Chase)