SURFIN' SORRENTO, USA

A friend kindly took me on an architectural walk around Sorrento, a small summer colony developed in the late 19th century far up the Down East Coast in the late 19th century. It is a community of many scenic and architectural wonders, not the least of which is the view across Frenchman's Bay to Bar Harbor and the Mount Desert Hills, as magnificent a bit of scenery as exists on the eastern seaboard (click HERE for that view)

Among the houses we passed was this rambling Victorian summer cottage high on a bluff.  It was once owned by Civil War General John Schofield,  who was later Secretary of War and Commanding General of the United States Army.  Its blue shutters particularly caught my eye.   Paneled board shutters are common features of cottages up here.  They usually are decorated with cut out silhouettes of an appropriate Down East motif--sailboats, spruce trees, ship's anchors, etc.   These however, feature a most un-Down East motif --- a surfer riding a wave, not a frequent sight on our rockbound section of coast. (my guide told me that the family who occupied the house in the 1930's also had a house in Hawaii.)

Delightful, no? 

LOST GARDENS

I had occasion to be on the College of the Atlantic campus in Bar Harbor yesterday, on a decidedly indirect route to an appointment in Northeast Harbor.  The College, with a curriculum emphasis on environmental issues, occupies several former gilded age summer estates along the Eden Street shore.  Before acquisition by the college, these properties have had varying fates---one was until recently occupied by the woman who had gone there as a young bride in the 1920s, another was abandoned and ready for demolition until the nascent college rescued it in the 1970s, yet another, the present subject, had been a monastery of the Oblate Fathers, along with the site of its long demolished neighbor, Beau Desert, the Augustus Gurnee estate by William Ralph Emerson, since the 1940's.  

Several of the college's estates had very grand garden schemes, by some of the most prominent designers of the era.  Remnants of those gardens survive, romantic in their desuetude, little resembling their former lushly planted, groomed and manicured selves.   Students often take on restoration of one of these gardens as projects, but with little sense of design history or intent, the results are charmingly tatty---and of course, students graduate, and move on---and the campus has many student landscape projects left in stasis.  I hardly criticize these good intentions---though I would love to get my hands on the myself, straightening and pruning and restoring vistas and edges, I cannot deny that there is real charm in how they have morphed into campus use, rather than disappearing completely, as have so many others.  (But still...)

Guy's Cliff c. 1880. (Photograph courtesy of Maine Historic Preservation Commission. Rights reserved)

Guy's Cliff was originally a large stick style style cottage, built on a granite outcropping high above Frenchman's Bay.  Later purchased by the Cushman family, who alternated between their Bar Harbor and Newport houses in summer, it was sold in 1926 to prominent attorney James Byrne of New York.   Byrne commissioned Guy Lowell to remodel the fusty wooden house as a Tuscan Villa.  In 1928, the Byrnes hired Beatrix Farrand to design a series of terraced formal gardens, cascading down the steep slope from the long main terrace of the house.  Although less complex, these terraces and their architectural features have much in common with her famous work at Dumbarton Oaks.

Guy's Cliff, c. 1975.

In this view of Guy's Cliff during the Oblate era, the gardens retain original shrubbery and planting, overgrown and beginning to show signs of age and neglect, but still following original design intent.  On the upper terrace can still be seen decorative Soderholtz pots (click HERE for more about the fascinating Mr. Soderholtz)

 The front door at Guy's Cliff.  One reader may recognize herself (MDI Historical Society Collection)

After Mrs. Byrne's death her daughter, Mrs. Walter Lippman, sold the house to the Oblate Fathers.  they removed the tile roof and replaced it with asphalt, installed aluminum frame storm windows, added a flat roof wing behind the ballroom, and the decline began.   A few years after the college purchased the property, Guy's Cliff, used as the library and dining hall, went up in flames, taking with it the Byrnes elegant 3 story spiral stairs with their delicate iron railings and the Chinese scenic papers that had been installed in the 1920s.  Sadly, the fire also burned the photographs stored in the library of the estate in those more glamorous days.   Today, a new library building, using the gardens as an axial focal point, occupies the site.  In late winter, the bones of the original layout, two sets of cascading terraces centered on each end wing of the house, are clearly revealed.

Guy's Cliff ablaze

Trees on the bluff below have obscured the view of one of the Porcupine Islands beyond, originally framed by the vista

The neighboring cottage, 'The Turrets' by Bruce Price, visible from the upper terrace, was screen out in the Byrne's day.

A corner of wall on the far upper terrace

Once carefully defined shapes have become rather more, um, free form, as with this central bed that once surrounded a statue

Once these steps led to carefully maintained lawns, and each shelf would have held a large planting pot

EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT...

Many newcomers  to Maine bring with them the tribal garb of their former lives.  One mud season later, things usually sort out, and Prada moves to the back of the closet.  Therefore, as a public service The Downeast Dilettante presents these quick guides, first in a series.

 Everything You Need to Know About Shopping in Down East Maine:

1. Marden's Surplus & Salvage
2. Reny's Department Store
3. L.L. Bean Factory Outlet

Everything You Need to Know About Fashion in Down East Maine

1. Marden's Surplus & Salvage
2. Reny's Department Store
3. L.L. Bean Factory Outlet

Everything Else You Need to Know About Fashion in Down East Maine

1. Polar Fleece
2. Polar Fleece
3. Polar Fleece

Everything You Need to Know About the Official State Symbols

1. State Tree---Eastern White Pine
2. State  Bird---Black Cap Chickadee
3. State Fabric----Polar Fleece. 

 Fun Facts

1. Not all  merchandise at Reny's  is inscribed 'Souvenir of Maine'.  Some is inscribed 'Woolrich'.
2. Contrary to rumor, L.L. Bean does not manufacture swim suits in polar fleece.  The spruce green polar fleece bikini is urban myth.
3. I  have a friend who plays tennis in polar fleece.  Yes, in summer.

Any questions?  In our next installment of "Everything You Need to Know":  Dining in Down East Maine.

SAFE PASSAGE

Last Monday was a beautiful day, unseasonably warm and springlike, and my father got in his pickup and drove himself over to the county seat for a haircut, an outing that he immensely enjoyed.   This Monday was a little colder, but the sky was even bluer, and less than 100 feet from the spot where he was born, overlooking the harbor he loved so much, he left on another, longer, journey.

Safe travels, Dad. 

 

Gordon Emerson

September 18th, 1926 - February 20th 2012

GINGERBREAD VILLAGE

One rubs one's eyes in astonishment when one first sees it---a tiny settlement of even tinier Victorian cottages in the woods on a bluff,  arranged around a village green sloping down to Penobscot Bay. It is crowded, cheerful, festive, even a bit unruly in spots.  In the summer, with porches bursting with flowering plants and wicker rockers, sailboats in the bay and softball games on the green, it is like a stage set ideal of summer life 100 years ago.

One doesn't come upon it easily.  It is hidden off tourist Rte.1 midway between the groomed nautical splendors of Camden and the artsy hipness of Belfast, both harbor towns of stately white houses and upscale restaurants and galleries.  It is Bayside in Northport, founded in 1849 as a Methodist campground retreat.  Originally the faithful would pitch tents for their revivals; by 1869, the first cottage was built.  A hotel, the Wesleyan Grove House,  followed in 1875, and by 1879, about 40 of the eventual 300 cottages had been built. In the day  steamboats were the chief mode of transport up and down the coast, and it was a favorite day trip.  Today, there are no stores, and in summer, the loudest sound is likely to be the slamming of an old fashioned wooden screen door.  Nearby, on Temple Heights, a spiritualist camp still survives, with mediums available in summer.  

An early 20th century view, top, of cottages, and the hotel, below.

Passing by last week, I swung off the highway for a quick visual treat.  The sky was glowering, and the late afternoon light was not conducive to photography.  I walked around for a few minutes, but found I wasn't dressed for the sharp cold wind off Penobscot Bay (we've been enjoying a mild, mostly above freezing, winter, and I've gotten a bit casual about dressing warmly), and the metal camera even too cold in my hands.  It's just as well though, for had I taken pictures in the summer,  you'd all be calling your real estate agents.  One can imagine worse fates than a few summer weeks spent in one of these lacy dollhouses overlooking the sea.

Park Row, sloping down to the bay

I love the way the roof was raised on the cottage on the left

The tiniest of all

A gravity defying dormer.  And yes, the name of the cottage is 'Braking Wind'

As in practically every seaside town in Maine, real estate offices prevail over retail commerce in former storefronts

The same row 100 years apart.  The blue house, above, is on the left in the picture below.  The house between it and the yellow house has disappeared, one of only a very few not to survive.

The community hall, with yacht club offices in the basement

One is reminded of the colorful little houses of Key West.  Or would, if Key West had hills.  And snow. And no bars.  And spruce trees instead of Palms.  And no Drag Queens.  Other than that...

Almost perfect pitch.  I think this cottage was used in Mel Gibson's 'Man Without A Face, filmed here and at the former Frederic Law Olmsted's summer place on Deer Isle (props purchased from the Dilettante's shop also make appearances).  It is no wonder movies cost so much to make.  In the movie, this house belonged to a young boy who visits Gibson at his house (Felsted).  In the movie the boy merely bicycles over.  In reality, the two houses are fifty miles apart by road, or 20 by water.  $$$.

MRS. WHARTON GOES CANOEING IN NYSD

I forget things.  It's not age.  I've always been this way.   While my head is in the clouds, pondering such things the influence of 16th century urban planning in Italy on modern strip malls in New England and vice versa, I sometimes don't remember that I was actually supposed to call the plumber.  Last week was no exception.  I forgot to lunch with a delightful friend, and I forgot to send a piece I had written to coincide with Edith Wharton's birthday to New York Social Diary.  Fortunately, DPC is a most generous and forgiving host, and has published my belated birthday card today.  That piece can be read by clicking HERE.

Edith Wharton strolled here:  The Shore Path at Bar Harbor, near the cottage of her brother Frederic Newbold Jones.

As to the delightful friend who was stood up, she too claims to have forgiven me, but has extracted her revenge by putting me up for auction for benefit of her local library. At the moment, with 11 days to go, the bidding is at $83.00.   (I should have sent flowers)

SIX MONTHS AND 100 DEGREES AGO

I awoke at 6:15 this morning.  The sun was rising, the sky a clear brilliant blue, the  temperature minus three--yes minus three--- degrees Fahrenheit.  Now, two hours later, it is a balmy minus one.  According to the online weather report, the windchill is -21).  Welcome to little Antarctica.  Is it possible that only six months have passed since the hottest day of last year, and now it is 100 degrees colder?

On that day, with temperatures flirting with the 100 degree mark along the Maine coast, , not a cool breeze to be found.  At the hottest part of the day, I was driving North on I-495 through Massachusetts, heading back to Maine.  At five P.M., after I exited onto 95 to Maine, the New Hampshire toll booths ahead looked like the Gates of Hell, summer traffic, rush hour traffic, and people heading to and from the beach traffic, all backed up on the steaming black pavement.

The Emerson house in York village, dating to the early 18th century, site of the Decorator's show house,.

Fifteen miles further up 95, edging toward the Maine toll booth, I cracked, and veered off highway at the York exit and headed  for the ocean.  In York Village, a lovely history proud town founded a few seconds after the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock, I was momentarily distracted by the Olde York Decorator's show house, held an 18th century house in York Village.  Ever mindful of my readership, I intended to take photographs for the blog, but was firmly (but pleasantly) told that I might not do so.  As with most decorator show houses, the mix was evenly balanced between very good and very bad.  Most compelling to me was not the decor, but an 18th century painted floor treatment that had survived through 200 years of family ownership.

In the neighboring village of York Harbor, which split off from York proper when it became popular as a fashionable summer colony in the late 19th century, I left the air-conditioned discomfort of the car to stroll along the water.  What confronted me was not the expected cooling of the late afternoon ocean breeze, but rather a wall of heat, apparently blowing straight in from Morocco.

The village of York Harbor is anchored by a large colonial revival building, housing a theatre on the second floor above former storefronts.  Built in 1895, it is attributed to architect William H. Dabney, whose also designed 'Redcote', a charming small shingle cottage built in 1882.

I had not wandered around York Harbor for years.   Though much has changed in the world, the prevailing tone, architecturally and socially, is still English and aristocratic.  The architecture is a handsome mix of crisp early New England, and shingle and colonial revival styles from the resort days.  The big surprise was that the shops, of the usual sort that service summer colonies---tweeds and tearooms, linens and fancy groceries--- had almost completely disappeared, with only a few offices occupying former commercial spaces.

 At 7:30 PM, the light was still strong, the temperatures still in the mid-90's, and the beach was as busy as it were 2:30 in the afternoon

Beaches are rare in Maine, rocky ledges not so much.  The little beach in York Harbor is bracketed on one side by Stage Neck, looking for all the world like a luminist painting by Kensett in the early evening heat.

York Harbor, as painted by Martin Johnson Heade in 1877

As at Newport, a public cliff walk  separates  grand old summer cottages from their ocean frontage.

The principal club, The Reading Room, is in an English picturesque style building, designed by James Purdon in 1905, splendidly located on the cliffs overlooking the harbor.

As at Newport, a public cliff walk  separates  summer cottages from their ocean frontage.  Beyond the reading room, this buttressed wall with its corner turret supports the terraces of the house.above

Do not be deceived by these photographs.  The breeze that evening was not the cool salt tinged ocean breeze one expects, but rather a solid wall of heat from North Africa

The rambling white house is Milbury Meadow, designed by John Russell Pope in a non-classical mood for Harold C. Richard in 1926.  According to John Harris in Moving Rooms, the house contained a 17th century oak paneled drawing room imported from England, since destroyed when fire gutted the interior.

A classic, and almost archetypal Maine cottage, this superb example has escaped the insensitive modernization and 'upgrade' fever that has infected so many.

The very English Episcopal chapel was designed in 1906 by Henry J. Hardenburgh, best known as the architect of the Plaza Hotel.  A bench in its lovely sunken garden invites contemplation---of the portapotty at the opposite side of the garden.

For another view of York Harbor, I recommend this post from one of my favorite blogs, Streets of Salem.