tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41850459031469723122024-03-24T19:31:49.066-04:00THE DOWNEAST DILETTANTETales & Opinions From Maine Regarding Architecture, Art, Books, Design, Landscape, & Occasional WhimsThe Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.comBlogger232125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-49729769538768642922023-12-04T22:20:00.005-05:002023-12-12T12:53:18.244-05:00RASHOMON DOWNEAST: The Churchills visit Bar Harbor<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
In June of 1894, Lord and Lady Randolph Churchill, the parents of Winston Churchill, embarked on a round-the-world tour. After landing in New York, unpleasant in full summer heat, the Churchills immediately went to Bar Harbor, traveling in a private railroad car loaned by Chauncey Depew. The Bar Harbor Season was entering full swing and the New York Times proclaimed Bar Harbor to be 'delighted' with the presence of the famous couple. Other accounts, however gave more mixed reviews. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I searched out several accounts of the visit, including Lady Churchill's own, and find that indeed any story has many tellings. Here, in their own words, are those of the Chicago Tribune, the Lewiston Daily Journal, and Lady Churchill herself, giving very different perspectives on the same events (and proving that Lady Churchill perhaps did not have perfect recall for the names of people and places visited).</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj12eWbCxoMdefa8-qoKCsKxJWoDmoBJJNpRBlJ6AmC_nYtNMSKWivG3Bia1f0HrOb7OzQd-T5eFkuaw3lrDhhNmzdiRiNRHXWYyO81YLGlj-keWgQ7D2CuPtYA02bTATDjGRRFBpHLAXa/s1600/Chicago+Tribune+7.15.1894.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj12eWbCxoMdefa8-qoKCsKxJWoDmoBJJNpRBlJ6AmC_nYtNMSKWivG3Bia1f0HrOb7OzQd-T5eFkuaw3lrDhhNmzdiRiNRHXWYyO81YLGlj-keWgQ7D2CuPtYA02bTATDjGRRFBpHLAXa/s1600/Chicago+Tribune+7.15.1894.JPG" width="365" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chicago Tribune, July 15, 1894</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE5irNpc64iRJ2v-izXaDxPC1ewXupLIszFoGB7MlCG5Yx3zTMMfqueaS9Twkoq1ldaeZKnFPSeeNUS-aKVpm8J8keE5uJtfbzO5p8Q8wnJpLpolp8cQOSrQLWLjCrYfaHu8dKrIyNjmKx/s1600/1024px-West_End_Hotel,_Bar_Harbor,_Mt._Desert,_Me,_by_B._Bradley.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE5irNpc64iRJ2v-izXaDxPC1ewXupLIszFoGB7MlCG5Yx3zTMMfqueaS9Twkoq1ldaeZKnFPSeeNUS-aKVpm8J8keE5uJtfbzO5p8Q8wnJpLpolp8cQOSrQLWLjCrYfaHu8dKrIyNjmKx/s1600/1024px-West_End_Hotel,_Bar_Harbor,_Mt._Desert,_Me,_by_B._Bradley.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The West End Hotel, where the Churchills did not stay.</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiasqf3hKbmTDEbiBBbKv9Y0fEJRJXoXrZxGirTBrI2BNSSFI77WzXhARUq6qCEQx7EinuiMPsTOgP49DflOkq_UPjiPTEWeu2o5rhHuSmCTxEGzevsPR_oIXyV7B6DQJ6RW2ktyJeQXCh/s1600/Malvern.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiasqf3hKbmTDEbiBBbKv9Y0fEJRJXoXrZxGirTBrI2BNSSFI77WzXhARUq6qCEQx7EinuiMPsTOgP49DflOkq_UPjiPTEWeu2o5rhHuSmCTxEGzevsPR_oIXyV7B6DQJ6RW2ktyJeQXCh/s1600/Malvern.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 19.2px;">And the Malvern Hotel, where they did<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2_Vp3UYU1-Mhewb5BWyh-TLYXzME_Bc7H3O1fmfBx34v-N5rZ6Z0whcef3a8ZQ5CvFuR8ViSgKFple6X1Dpde7jfd-8awyQaITQBKYWoQUMms3lvV0fXhP5s0XvAF1ZrL3lIXyXo7hYt-/s1600/Boston+Evening+Transcript+July+28,+1894.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2_Vp3UYU1-Mhewb5BWyh-TLYXzME_Bc7H3O1fmfBx34v-N5rZ6Z0whcef3a8ZQ5CvFuR8ViSgKFple6X1Dpde7jfd-8awyQaITQBKYWoQUMms3lvV0fXhP5s0XvAF1ZrL3lIXyXo7hYt-/s1600/Boston+Evening+Transcript+July+28,+1894.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 19.2px;">Lord Randolph's stay at the Malvern was not without tension, as recounted by The Boston Evening Transcript of July 28, 1894<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjirWOvndPIf1oKbcNiDpCeRfQ0z8L6jZTe8qiCA9jSa0YhO13agkizoW3nZqyN3fnSRl9euT6S1xfVrZFq0uSZ1W52lIzdyDA231-u7Z3uJJbBNSJCtLeyS5D9HnYff8hxFAAYgEZtwhfW/s1600/Lewiston+Journal+7.28.1894.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjirWOvndPIf1oKbcNiDpCeRfQ0z8L6jZTe8qiCA9jSa0YhO13agkizoW3nZqyN3fnSRl9euT6S1xfVrZFq0uSZ1W52lIzdyDA231-u7Z3uJJbBNSJCtLeyS5D9HnYff8hxFAAYgEZtwhfW/s1600/Lewiston+Journal+7.28.1894.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpWYXSn7qSo7nAhcwzjC9h5E5tueVe1rClfkHjAVZwby3bWPcC98qxRL1mlXkJ6XcMUNCwlTH3-uSiXY2fZU-IctkZUHbjBuzgF1IZyu_1yVPCN-DbYIoYgefs_0T8HMFu_s0y48HCTCf2/s1600/Lewiston+Journal+2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpWYXSn7qSo7nAhcwzjC9h5E5tueVe1rClfkHjAVZwby3bWPcC98qxRL1mlXkJ6XcMUNCwlTH3-uSiXY2fZU-IctkZUHbjBuzgF1IZyu_1yVPCN-DbYIoYgefs_0T8HMFu_s0y48HCTCf2/s1600/Lewiston+Journal+2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: justify;">By the end of July, the bloom was off the Churchill rose, as recounted in the July 28, 1894 Lewiston Daily Journal, above. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk3_HRBqcgPJ_XTBwj7hEzNjy9juPWamlCi9ncSB0WZZP6a0TDk9lUwBxOe0pw0K-Q3seZa9A4eOta1952GxAdAivQXbwxH1834zail4_L41PRIMmIW512Q4Q-d0I2zbmfih18UQkWYBHY/s1600/entrance+front.bmp" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk3_HRBqcgPJ_XTBwj7hEzNjy9juPWamlCi9ncSB0WZZP6a0TDk9lUwBxOe0pw0K-Q3seZa9A4eOta1952GxAdAivQXbwxH1834zail4_L41PRIMmIW512Q4Q-d0I2zbmfih18UQkWYBHY/s1600/entrance+front.bmp" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The Anchorage", the Edith Babb Randolph (later Mrs. W.C. Whitney) cottage, where the Churchills dined</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjv20kaavmPavjd86SDB_hRWW8Oyz-MUzDsa2uhKCL0xucwFmld19YhXqzQ3I56iVkouxx5jJaIEznsSwFCU0zqJ8eCRl9T_skg5U9TIn9Lkdo8Q8X6lFGhhEF_h8IeZWC30qN0AqKcFu/s1600/DSCN0553.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjv20kaavmPavjd86SDB_hRWW8Oyz-MUzDsa2uhKCL0xucwFmld19YhXqzQ3I56iVkouxx5jJaIEznsSwFCU0zqJ8eCRl9T_skg5U9TIn9Lkdo8Q8X6lFGhhEF_h8IeZWC30qN0AqKcFu/s1600/DSCN0553.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thirlstane, the R.B. Scott cottage by William Ralph Emerson, leased by the Mortimers for the 1894 season, where they entertained the Churchills</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC2KarixWGjpFIPuoSUHsIjbPDVuF_5Md6BfkH_7W-JW9JebwMv59sAkeRO9wEvTNvnmqyAehJ4dt5R-bsmcda0sp8lriBRmqxrvGfehcNe1XEbw9CbUskxwNPWY-Dd9d_ej0OECQ6LNAY/s1600/Lewiston+Journal+3.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC2KarixWGjpFIPuoSUHsIjbPDVuF_5Md6BfkH_7W-JW9JebwMv59sAkeRO9wEvTNvnmqyAehJ4dt5R-bsmcda0sp8lriBRmqxrvGfehcNe1XEbw9CbUskxwNPWY-Dd9d_ej0OECQ6LNAY/s1600/Lewiston+Journal+3.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmQSEbwBK4fibBSGL_OMBEicy7coD1t_njEVQdJ7Oe_YRYVXXLpLkKRqIN-O-_zbYgYYuwDkXeA6qzzjsvIZt1NvVd_cO43FHWKcYKnCagfNEO3rOYG-ckmB4PBj9MYQKTUAVPR5x7lcWA/s1600/Lewiston+Journal+4.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmQSEbwBK4fibBSGL_OMBEicy7coD1t_njEVQdJ7Oe_YRYVXXLpLkKRqIN-O-_zbYgYYuwDkXeA6qzzjsvIZt1NvVd_cO43FHWKcYKnCagfNEO3rOYG-ckmB4PBj9MYQKTUAVPR5x7lcWA/s1600/Lewiston+Journal+4.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Let's give Lady Churchill the last word, with her own memories, recounted in her 1908 memoir, <u>The Reminiscences of Lady Randolph Churchill:</u></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">"ON
the morning of the 27th of June 1894 I started with Lord Randolph Churchill
from Euston Station for a tour round the world Quite a number of friends
besides our families came to see us off among them were Lord and Lady
Londonderry, Lady Jeune, Lord Rosebery, and Mr Goschen. Randolph was very pleased
and touched at his old friend Lord Rosebery coming and frequently alluded to it
afterward. At Liverpool Mr Ismay met us on board the Majestic; he reminded me of
the Jubilee trip on the Teutonic which already seemed in the distant past. Rough
seas and uninteresting passengers were not conducive to the time passing
quickly The only incidents I remember were the inevitable concert in which I
was pressed into the service and the excitement another night of nearly running
down a vessel. It was a strange sensation to awake finding our ship stopped and
to feel instead of the throbbing and noise of the machinery an unwonted calm
broken only by the incessant and irritating sound of fog horns We remained only
two days in New York as the thermometer recorded 81 degrees in the shade Mr Chauncey
Depew who was one of the few people we saw was good enough to place his private
car at our disposal for the projected journey to Bar Harbor I remember asking
him if it was true that he had telegraphed to Lord Rosebery when Ladas won the
Derby Nothing left but Heaven He replied that it was This was my first
experience of a private car which proved to be as well appointed as a small
yacht and was a most enjoyable mode of traveling The colored cook prepared an
excellent dinner and we slept as comfortably as we could have done in our own
beds After the dust and heat of New York Bar Harbor seemed a haven of rest with
its fresh sea breezes lovely drives and mountain walks As far as I could gather
the life there was very much a second edition of Newport and consisted in
perpetual dressing dinners and dances and that horror of horrors the leaving of
cards It was very pleasant notwithstanding and we indulged in all the
amusements of the place We were invited to a dance at the Kebo Valley Club a
charming house thoroughly suited to the country It was a real joy to dance the
Boston which only Americans know properly There we met a number of pretty girls
whom I often saw driving or playing lawn tennis and who anticipating the
hatless brigade of to day were invariably without hats This I was told was to
bleach their hair I made the acquaintance of some delightful women with whom I
found myself in that perfect sympathy which can only be felt among compatriots
Mr George Vanderbilt a very cultivated young man was then unmarried he had a
steam yacht in which he took us to see East Harbor where we had a fine view
and a sea below. Close to his house which faced the sea was a swimming bath open
to the sky through which salt water was constantly flowing Here he and his
friends of both sexes disported themselves bobbing up and down diving and
swimming without shyness and I must say without vanity for it must be owned
that women do not look their best under such circumstances While in the water
there was no hilarity or chaff everything was conducted with the greatest
decorum not to say ceremony which added to the ludicrous effect upon the
spectators We dined one night with Mrs Van Rensselaer Jones to meet Marion
Crawford who was staying with her Mr Marion Crawford was the best of company
Tall dark with piercing blue eyes a decided chin and kind mouth adorned with a
small mustache I thought him the very best type of a good looking American He
has a pleasant voice modulated by his constant use of the Italian language and
talked most agreeably on all subjects At that time he took a very gloomy view
of the political outlook in America and declared that the problem of socialism
would be solved there Some one accused him of being an idle man and loving the
dolce far niente Idle he exclaimed and his eyes sparkled with indignation for
sixteen years I have worked and made a living by my pen and have produced
twenty five novels At the same dinner I met for the first time Mr Court land
Palmer a young amateur pianist who was inspired with the real feu sacre and was
able then as now to hold his own with professionals During my stay at Bar
Harbor we met frequently and played the piano together One of our many
expeditions was a sail in the Mayflower the yacht which won the International
Yacht Race against the Galatea There was a Bishop on board who was described to
me as a bully Bishop but we thought his appearance somewhat disreputable and
did not cultivate him Mr C commonly called the Greek god a name which suited
him admirably was also there. When I told Randolph his nickname he declared he
could have nothing to do with a Greek god But he did and liked him. Before
leaving Bar Harbor, the Nourmahal, a big steam yacht belonging to the John Jacob
Astors, came into the harbor. Mrs Astor's beauty and grace, not to mention the
charming simplicity of her nature, must always command admiration, but had she
been the Empress of Russia her arrival could not have caused more commotion. It
was with regret that we left Bar Harbor and its bright and hospitable
inhabitants and started on our Canadian journey With some difficulty we
procured a private car from the Pullman Company the president of the Canadian
Pacific Railway notwithstanding our letters to him proving a broken reed. The
officials were persuaded to place us at the end of the train, in order that we
might make use of the observation room, with which our car the Iolanthe was
furnished and which proved a great boon."</span></div>
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<br />The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-65302315793698526232023-12-04T22:14:00.004-05:002023-12-04T22:14:59.569-05:00BACK WHEN THE DILETTANTE WENT GREEN<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiStEwYE8SPzcmm0OcLAs8Vv9p2NmbYWvFFUwj0XnwH_RBcjzos4DwusMyeDGHRYVy9qS1vzhm-7AbKtk6xgWuhuVG6FxcoPNrkZPIarYh38TmlJYdn0nk-_AxRVb6Hp-wpF0KvoefdXro/s1600/Veranda+cover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiStEwYE8SPzcmm0OcLAs8Vv9p2NmbYWvFFUwj0XnwH_RBcjzos4DwusMyeDGHRYVy9qS1vzhm-7AbKtk6xgWuhuVG6FxcoPNrkZPIarYh38TmlJYdn0nk-_AxRVb6Hp-wpF0KvoefdXro/s320/Veranda+cover.jpg" width="246" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfHp6RPep_6P2oGvbJLZ4vTUlb38wUg-llVXnxHVpjknq0cGbQoUcu6GFBgdnC1P7WQbcuaKJ3L_SwcEVAcnY_wA32FWOqft8_EUrdB4OwpAqX4lfaBcmICZoAobbPdsa7Ahs28UZYavY/s1600/NH.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfHp6RPep_6P2oGvbJLZ4vTUlb38wUg-llVXnxHVpjknq0cGbQoUcu6GFBgdnC1P7WQbcuaKJ3L_SwcEVAcnY_wA32FWOqft8_EUrdB4OwpAqX4lfaBcmICZoAobbPdsa7Ahs28UZYavY/s320/NH.jpg" width="310" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It didn't quite come out the same as the Veranda cover...</div>
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<span id="goog_1152372918"></span><span id="goog_1152372919"></span>The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-74194269325495902252023-12-04T22:11:00.002-05:002023-12-04T22:29:37.291-05:00Long Time, No Post<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div><p> I'm mostly on Instagram these days, but curious if anyone is still out there. </p><p><br></p><p><br></p><p><br></p>The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-63142691431727219222015-11-04T00:37:00.001-05:002017-05-14T17:59:08.154-04:00THE BEAUTIFUL FENCE<div style="text-align: justify;">
A beautiful Greek Revival house,"Riverside" was built c.1840 on ancestral land, for the Glidden family of Newcastle, Maine, owners of an ocean sailing fleet of clipper ships. Always a pleasure to see this level of architectural integrity---the house is maintained with perfect pitch, ever more rare as changing tastes, the current trend toward heavy-handed 'improvement', and modern building conventions slowly eat away at the<span style="text-align: center;">se beautiful structures. This is the architectural heritage--and streetscape---of Maine at its best.</span><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">The design of the fence itself is based plate 33 in Asher Benjamin's <u style="font-style: italic;">Modern Carpenter</u>, the source of many a 19th century New England builder's inspiration and instruction.</span></div>
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Street view photographs by the Dilettante via phone, portico view via Creative Commons by Taorob,<b> <a href="http://www.panoramio.com/user/6386804?with_photo_id=99536504">whose Panoramio site</a></b> of photographs of Maine Architecture is a must-visit.</div>
The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com94tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-85119506315609807442015-09-05T00:45:00.000-04:002015-09-05T00:59:41.634-04:00IMITATION IS THE SINCEREST FORM OF FLATTERY, #7My morning distraction was set in motion by an 18th century engraving of the Cabinet de Treillage at the Petite Trianon at Versailles.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUNDOPAy00_PFPyDuduCBz3ozyL6H-Bu7a347juNxK1p2gfcM4XeAgUIcoNw08iONSSTcGQIlpf7NUb39JCSeOlC2eYlVUWwN86AJPitOpqQVUnWrIKOnOwvLxfr6dr2p-qjxRDucQeeme/s1600/Projet_Cabinet_de_treillage_de_Trianon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUNDOPAy00_PFPyDuduCBz3ozyL6H-Bu7a347juNxK1p2gfcM4XeAgUIcoNw08iONSSTcGQIlpf7NUb39JCSeOlC2eYlVUWwN86AJPitOpqQVUnWrIKOnOwvLxfr6dr2p-qjxRDucQeeme/s400/Projet_Cabinet_de_treillage_de_Trianon.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I'm something of a geek (I could stop there, but do let's soldier on) about how designs travel and how they are re-invented in each iteration.</div>
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In 1799, Samuel McIntire, a self-taught carver, carpenter, and architect in Salem, Massachusetts, was engaged in his largest residential project, one of the grandest houses of its era in America, for the merchant Elias Hasket Derby. </div>
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The program included a summer house for the garden, and this sketch by McIntire, for a Palladian-inspired garden folly, is thought to be a preliminary sketch for that structure.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtkfcHun9A_E_n1F8xMPrK7U-KkSMzsZ83-zl0JlQBFGOM7QnqBRJbeJp8DAiSJoRW8hI8w34PtZc54MbWAmnXbfkGn8C8EaevQ7kln0YiS8nXYc0pxZqg-SL7aOBzPPWUmfX1UmSj8qb9/s1600/full+front+joel+abroad+creative+commons.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtkfcHun9A_E_n1F8xMPrK7U-KkSMzsZ83-zl0JlQBFGOM7QnqBRJbeJp8DAiSJoRW8hI8w34PtZc54MbWAmnXbfkGn8C8EaevQ7kln0YiS8nXYc0pxZqg-SL7aOBzPPWUmfX1UmSj8qb9/s400/full+front+joel+abroad+creative+commons.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Photograph of Derby-Beebe summer house by Joel Abroad, via Flickr Creative Commons</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">However, as built, the garden house had a flat roof with balustrade, ornamented with 8 urns carved by McIntire. It is a charming structure, with the refined naive elegance and economy of design that typifies the architecture of New England of that era, wood standing in for the stone that would have been used in Europe. And this is why the engraving electrified me this morning, for it appears that Mr. McIntire had got his hands upon a book of French designs, as in a departure from his usual Palladian and neo-classical inspiration, he seems to have based the design on the Cabinet de Treillage. Or perhaps it's mere coincidence?</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 19.2000007629395px;">Cabinet de Treillage, Versailles</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Coincidence or inspiration, the two buildings have unmistakable similarities of composition. For your final consideration, I offer up this charming storefront, designed for the Pennel, Gibbs and Quiring decorating firm in Boston in the early 20th century. By architects doubtless Beaux Arts trained, it takes the idea of the Derby-Beebe summer house and dresses it up in correct Academic orders (the treillage pavilion uses trellised pilasters of no particular order, and the summer house uses Corinthian, properly not for lower floors), but the design still appears to owe a debt to the earlier building in Salem--although a learned friend disagrees with me, I stick by this. I leave it to the interested reader to draw his own conclusions.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">When Elias Derby's great house fell to the wreckers, not many years after it was built, the summer house was moved to a family farm in Wakefield, later acquired by the Beebe family. In the 20th century, the summer house was removed from the farm and returned to Salem, to the grounds of the Peabody-Essex Museum. Derby had another summer house designed by McIntire on his Danvers estate, which was spared demolition and traveled to his Granddaughter's "Glen Magna Farm", where it remains today.. It is one of the most exquisite buildings of the Early Republic, and spawned its own host of imitators, including wings of a cottage in Bar Harbor. But that is a story for another day.</span></div>
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The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-38948954409775611172015-08-04T23:03:00.001-04:002015-08-04T23:12:37.968-04:00PATTERNOn a quick outing with an observant friend to the near Down East (Winter Harbor and Gouldsboro), I particularly captivated by the textures and pattern details of many of the buildings we saw.<br />
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Above, the residence hall at the former <span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-size: 21px; line-height: 30.5454521179199px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">U.S. Navy Radio and Direction Finding Station on Schoodic Point at Winter Harbor, Grosvenor Atterbury Architect, 1905, commissioned by John D. Rockefeller to replace the old Fabbri Station at Otter Cliffs in Acadia National Park.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-size: 21px; line-height: 30.5454521179199px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Below, the West Gouldsboro Union Church, 1894. The parquetry work in the ceiling is especially wonderful.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-size: 21px; line-height: 30.5454521179199px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Next door, a the wonderful little Tudorbethan Gouldsboro Library, designed by Fred Savage in 1906. One of my personal fantasies is a single room private library in the garden. This one would do just fine. I'm sorry I couldn't get photos of the handsome interior.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-size: 21px; line-height: 30.5454521179199px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Above, stonework at the Channing Chapel, Unitarian, in Winter Harbor, built as a gift in 1887 by summer resident David Flint of Boston. The rocks, a mixture of field stone and beach rock, were transported in winter across frozen ground, and laid by a master mason, whose name is momentarily lost in the files. The Chapel is now the Winter Harbor Library.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-size: 21px; line-height: 30.5454521179199px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Below, stonework, also a mix of old stone wall salvage and beach stones, on a 1902 private cottage. A friend has reason to speculate that the stonework may be by the same mason as the Channing Chapel. I think he may be right.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-size: 21px; line-height: 30.5454521179199px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Stone and shingle, the classic Maine summer combination, at 'Far From the Wolf' the 1892 John Godfrey Moore cottage on Grindstone Neck, by W.W. Kent of New York, one of the finest shingle style cottages, in a crowded competition, on this remote stretch of coast.</span></span><br />
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<br />The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-19192396221664549352015-07-25T20:30:00.002-04:002015-07-26T01:03:31.542-04:00RETURN OF THE DILETTANTEIn the year since I last posted, there has been a veritable landslide of demand for my return (at least 3 people and a dog at last count), so I promise, there will be a new post soon---very soon. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Will the Dilettante ever return? He'd better bring me a treat when he does"</td></tr>
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For those who wonder, I have been kept from writing by life's caprices, as well as other challenges and commitments---as here, where I am seen as auctioneer's assistant at a charity auction last weekend (Vanna White wasn't available). <br />
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The event in question was a fundraiser for the 200th anniversary of the <a href="http://thedowneastdilettante.blogspot.com/2010/06/wallpaper-adelphi-down-east.html">Holt House</a>, the beautiful Federal house that is now home of the local Historical Society. The portrait I am holding is of an ancestress of the auctioneer, and came with a joke whose punchline was "And my grandmother would then alway point at that picture and say "isn't she a <i>handsome</i> woman". <br />
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I know there's another joke here....but I'll leave it up to the reader.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Isn't she a <i>handsome </i>woman"</td></tr>
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Inspecting the wares. I bought the very chic chair at the left. Never met a chair I didn't like.</div>
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This Victorian sofa, rather a fine example of its type, but in a style rarely popular in today's trend-driven markets is still available; proceeds for a good cause.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Holt House, a grace note in the center of our village for 200 years.</td></tr>
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The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-65103512937858496382014-03-26T19:12:00.001-04:002014-03-27T12:29:15.964-04:00SPRINGTIME DOWN EASTSeveral people have sent kind emails lately, asking why I've been blogging so little---the short answer is that I have several small projects that require big attention, always a problem for those of us easily distracted by shiny objects.<br />
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And then, there's the weather. A week into Spring, this is the scene from the top of our little mountain today at about noon-thirty. The blizzard moved out quickly---and by 6:30, all was clear. And cold. And windy.</div>
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A friend, a man of great scientific and technological abilities (and the common sense to be in Florida for the winter), has a weather station from which Wunderground.com picks up our local forecast (it doesn't get much better than being predicted from 1.5 miles away). The reports for months have been uniformly dreary. I emailed said friend, asking him if he couldn't adjust the equipment to predict higher temperatures and sunnier skies. I knew it wasn't possible (as you can see below), but desperate times call for desperate measures. He did re-assure me that he understood the temperature would be warmer in June.</div>
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That big white patch isn't a snowy meadow. It's the frozen inner Harbor. Did I mention that we are a week into Spring? That in just seven weeks, Lilacs should be opening?</div>
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I've recently received a couple of interesting design books to review. Maybe, if I can stir myself out of this torpor....but first, I have to remove this latest snow from the walks and steps.<br />
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Below, the forecast for the first week of April. </div>
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The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-65222385468214021022014-01-27T12:32:00.004-05:002022-10-27T14:17:03.029-04:00MONDAY MISCELLANY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cc0000; text-align: start;"><b><u>THIS DAY IN HISTORY</u></b></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">Fifty years ago today, the estimable Margaret Chase Smith, the Republican Senator from Maine, who helped bring down Senator Joseph McCarthy's reign of terror with her famous 'Declaration of Conscience' speech, gave another speech, this one at the Women's National Press Club in response to rumors that she might run for President. Here is an excerpt from that speech, dry, succinct, and deadpan.</span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyXGCbOG-0zZqx30Uw7xCbyLplHdgI5s0_honpZ9MSZkrAE9Xjy6Z3VnHktBR1wOjav4RC-IBVwNNIOH0oN1A' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Although the event has gone unmarked in the Maine dailies, this excellent story about her campaign appeared two days ago in the Wall Street Journal <b><a href="http://online.wsj.com/news/articles/SB10001424052702303848104579312593425038108">HERE</a></b><br />
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An interesting online exhibit about the campaign, complete with hats is found <b><a href="http://www.mainememory.net/sitebuilder/site/294/slideshow/302/display?use_mmn=&format=list&prev_object_id=557&prev_object=page&slide_num=1">HERE</a></b><br />
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And the Dilettante on the subject of Senator Smith <b><a href="http://thedowneastdilettante.blogspot.com/2010/11/lady-from-maine-mrs-smith-goes-to.html">HERE</a></b><br />
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<b><u><span style="color: #cc0000;">JAMES P. WHITE HOUSE TO BE AUCTIONED</span></u></b><br />
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One of Maine's finest Greek Revival houses, the James P. White house in Belfast, will be up for bank auction tomorrow. Listed on the National Register of Historic Place, the house is stunningly sited on a triangular plot of land at the intersection of Church and High Streets, with a gazebo at the apex, and the house set well back in grounds that retain a romantic air of the 19th century, enclosed by the remains of a superb cast iron fence utilizing anthemion designs.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photographs above from The Historic American Buildings Survey.</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Architectural historian Earle Shettleworth, the Director of the State Historic Preservation Commission, has traced the likely inspiration for Ryder's design, with its central pavilion and cupola, to a plate in Minard Lefever's </span><u style="font-style: italic; text-align: justify;">Young Builder's Assistant</u><span style="text-align: justify;">, and that design in trun to a villa by John Nash in Regent's Park in London.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJGiGx6RTNYSAbLwseXdeiulvif-QZJGpBRooKe96CBwpHdcEj3EFFwWiAI6XbKZ4hQsdfDc8kFTWyvUBIDX2NYAwiQAIxzMzjKn1E7xAWI2zTnTrwE7VU_N67s9adO9JOWFJoihUdqbSv/s1600/Lefever.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJGiGx6RTNYSAbLwseXdeiulvif-QZJGpBRooKe96CBwpHdcEj3EFFwWiAI6XbKZ4hQsdfDc8kFTWyvUBIDX2NYAwiQAIxzMzjKn1E7xAWI2zTnTrwE7VU_N67s9adO9JOWFJoihUdqbSv/s1600/Lefever.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From 'The Young Builder's Assistant', Minard Lefever</td></tr>
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Inside, a sweeping staircase curves to the second floor, and carved woodwork echoes the anthemion motif first seen on the fence outside. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photos above, all uncredited, are either from White House Inn's Facebook Page, or Sotheby's website.</td></tr>
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Literally and figuratively, the house sits at a crossroad, for we can no longer depend, in this era where everyone seems to be driven to 'improve' what doesn't need improving, that the extraordinary integrity of house and site will remain untouched. The property has been used as a bed & breakfast in recent years, and (and has the decor to prove it---who thought picking out the carving on woodwork in gold was a good idea?), and earlier was for sale for $870,000, before foreclosuRe proceedings. Though the neighborhood is residential, apparently many of the queries have been commercial---and of course, even replacement windows could affect the integrity of the design. Keep your fingers crossed for a good result at the auction. More details about the auction <b><i><a href="http://bangordailynews.com/2014/01/22/news/midcoast/foreclosed-mansion-in-belfast-to-be-auctioned-off-next-week/">HERE</a></i></b></div>
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The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-44349044087896187372014-01-16T13:20:00.000-05:002014-01-16T13:44:54.619-05:00FOR SALEThe Bangor Public Library is housed in a handsome Beaux Arts structure designed in 1911, after a devasting fire destroyed much of the downtown, including the previous library building, from which only 29 volumes were saved. The architects were Peabody & Stearns, one of America's finest architectural firms at the turn of the last century. After more than a century, the building's copper roof has reached the end of its life and is being replaced, at a cost of millions.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCrb5x2l0TzHosxPwu-IakQ22wKQAaPswnSZ1izjDhEu9SxVbJ5EaJmBRZ0J-2bOkoWa0naN5_kUkTKfYGzgg70irOh9EyynxiF8QhYTDWg5xJeF82lPxT-xHsoGwqW2cgrxKGIyYsMO9_/s1600/86e37-lib6110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCrb5x2l0TzHosxPwu-IakQ22wKQAaPswnSZ1izjDhEu9SxVbJ5EaJmBRZ0J-2bOkoWa0naN5_kUkTKfYGzgg70irOh9EyynxiF8QhYTDWg5xJeF82lPxT-xHsoGwqW2cgrxKGIyYsMO9_/s1600/86e37-lib6110.jpg" height="409" width="640" /></a></div>
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The showpiece of the building is a skylit central dome, ornamented by stylized acanthus leaf ornaments. The originals are being replaced by exact reproductions, as originally designed by Peabody & Stearns, and the originals will be sold at a silent auction by the Bangor Library on January 21st at 5:00 in the lecture hall. Worth a bid---they are gorgeous, and the funds raised go to a good cause.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Echoes of Florence in Bangor, Maine (Wikimedia Commons)</td></tr>
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IThe Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-57342007329883770602013-11-22T11:41:00.001-05:002013-11-22T11:41:28.256-05:00GRAY DAY, DECORATOR'S DREAM, ROOFER'S NIGHTMAREProbably the world doesn't need another post about Beauport, the brilliant fantasia of early Americana created at Gloucester Massachusetts by the pioneer decorator Henry Davis Sleeper in the early 20th century. However, on a recent visit, on a gray fall day, I happened to be the ONLY visitor in the 3 PM time slot, and to experience those wonderful rooms, and the collectioins within, free of other tourists, able to truly experience Sleeper's effects of color, light and arrangement, was a superlative experience. One is not allowed to photograph the interiors, but the high quality of restoration on the exterior and grounds, including a new cedar shingle roof---oh what nightmares the poor roofing contractor must have had---is worth a look.<br />
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For those not familiar with Beauport, please visit the website of its owner, Historic New England, <b><a href="http://www.historicnewengland.org/historic-properties/homes/Beauport">HERE</a></b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One enteres through a garden house which adjoins the high brick wall separating the grounds from the public lane.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLhqQuJXaj4fDEtxSIVnwh_MflroZPqdfSCpGD2B1OW0aH8Ce6M11cTroZfjs9oB6BLFEnQDM-idXaUsYZRaVJnH2nCHREP1dDdJTyfH8cdAcKDSp6XxnMKs1HYHmyngFf6vut2AXyAhL/s1600/IMG_3982.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLhqQuJXaj4fDEtxSIVnwh_MflroZPqdfSCpGD2B1OW0aH8Ce6M11cTroZfjs9oB6BLFEnQDM-idXaUsYZRaVJnH2nCHREP1dDdJTyfH8cdAcKDSp6XxnMKs1HYHmyngFf6vut2AXyAhL/s400/IMG_3982.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The new house next door, which replaced 'Wrong Roof', the cottage of Sleeper's friend Caroline Sinkler after it was lost in an explosion, demonstrates all too well that one man's dream house is a neighbor's nightmare</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbLoxxbFivh0ZxVuPmY3Du_E5Ptnnd9MGB0uLPJJFJwgeKG6WfyDCAmOs2Nv0jHvV95N_IPVU5rQxzJQaGcCmy491IP4HjQbOeg4mlYQf_IT_-vYtC65vfZTmV8UO74p0WHG_Xr1evLPRn/s1600/IMG_3983.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbLoxxbFivh0ZxVuPmY3Du_E5Ptnnd9MGB0uLPJJFJwgeKG6WfyDCAmOs2Nv0jHvV95N_IPVU5rQxzJQaGcCmy491IP4HjQbOeg4mlYQf_IT_-vYtC65vfZTmV8UO74p0WHG_Xr1evLPRn/s320/IMG_3983.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<br />The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-16519345647202547182013-10-03T01:01:00.000-04:002013-10-03T15:21:27.078-04:00TODAY'S QUIZ: One Degree of Separation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is Nathaniel Sparhawk, wealthy merchant of Kittery Maine, son-in-law of Sir William Pepperell, the only American baronet, as painted by John Singleton Copley in 1764 (Collection of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT8zZ-bMU59B1nTucxpJT26z3r3efG_XSx-g9OZ7YFs4gwo3mNsznxvQDI7xNfQ8nxcPh_atJaDpe9G7xhDr03H-Q2NFJLLLvQh_7XzmGgfNtPdoQD3HbzLDqPukQh0ez8GJbQg1mL0o38/s1600/3431.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT8zZ-bMU59B1nTucxpJT26z3r3efG_XSx-g9OZ7YFs4gwo3mNsznxvQDI7xNfQ8nxcPh_atJaDpe9G7xhDr03H-Q2NFJLLLvQh_7XzmGgfNtPdoQD3HbzLDqPukQh0ez8GJbQg1mL0o38/s640/3431.jpg" width="401" /></a></div>
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This is a scene from <b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lost_Boundaries">'Lost Boundaries'</a>,</b> starring Mel Ferrer and Beatrice Pearson, which won the award for Best Screenplay at the 1949 Cannes Film Festival.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5F706xF_KwlPy42SA3tUIrsQEY04QolbnwaYL6ozxbucLABhlGRFzIcecHWdHvKhpdfX2Mko6cBLRCSHbQiUjq5z3vD2R3OGWY0BBuTr5wEKCWm-CSILQxnC2DupxtsUVoqfMlPs24mGf/s1600/Sparhawk+Upper+Landing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5F706xF_KwlPy42SA3tUIrsQEY04QolbnwaYL6ozxbucLABhlGRFzIcecHWdHvKhpdfX2Mko6cBLRCSHbQiUjq5z3vD2R3OGWY0BBuTr5wEKCWm-CSILQxnC2DupxtsUVoqfMlPs24mGf/s400/Sparhawk+Upper+Landing.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">And these are children of Frederick Woolworth, of </span><i style="text-align: justify;">those</i><span style="text-align: justify;"> Woolworths, at the former family summer home in Monmouth, Maine, as featured in the </span><b style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.townandcountrymag.com/society/tradition/woolworth-family-interview">August, 2012 issue of </a></b><i style="text-align: justify;"><b><a href="http://www.townandcountrymag.com/society/tradition/woolworth-family-interview">Town & Country</a></b> </i><span style="text-align: justify;">(photograph by Susanna Howe)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzuOI60ZSaIdsGAcW-ZgIEAQuaT_-2mvyKY2EH0sbzjUCpJYp4QVVscO8h7wes1tsi48m0BKA5Wj7qLMYd0nSEpNXgusSrubVowuM3udlCcc2owdvejENgIudQWE-FJHp_Go5Ry1RDbNOw/s1600/tumblr_m9h9q9TPYe1qh44flo1_1280.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzuOI60ZSaIdsGAcW-ZgIEAQuaT_-2mvyKY2EH0sbzjUCpJYp4QVVscO8h7wes1tsi48m0BKA5Wj7qLMYd0nSEpNXgusSrubVowuM3udlCcc2owdvejENgIudQWE-FJHp_Go5Ry1RDbNOw/s400/tumblr_m9h9q9TPYe1qh44flo1_1280.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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And last, Darryl Hall of Hall & Oates, at his <b><a href="http://www.portlandmonthly.com/portmag/2007/07/preservation-hall/">house in Maine</a></b> (photo via Zimbio)</div>
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<img height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8uA6mh7wJ1vb3YbGBhfFMPbcM5EHuoZwHnnTcAQAKNWCv_FIT1hbs0a6Dqmmwf2bv7SoxpHu6M4UowgtdMoJ0cJorKOT44NhtPn-8dsjnDFiffb6Q5fvh4jaU6BobBtuVPHuD_6XHZRs/s400/dhbrayhouse.jpg" width="400" /></div>
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Do you know the thread that connects these disparate people across the centuries? No fair using Google if you don't know the answer.<br />
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I connect the dots in the October issue of Portland Monthly, beginning on Page 25. <b><a href="http://www.portlandmonthly.com/issues/october2013/">Click HERE</a> </b>for the article.<br />
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P.S. Early on in the article, I use the word <i>bravado</i>. I meant <i>bravura</i>. Really I did. Unfortunately, if I spell my mistake correctly, spell check can't save me from myself...The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-61076465774406081572013-09-23T12:36:00.001-04:002013-09-24T13:49:43.892-04:00MAINE STYLE: FASHION ADVICE FROM HENRY DAVID THOREAU <br />
"Red-flannel shirts should be worn in the woods, if only for the fine contrast which this color makes with the evergreens and water"<br />
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----Henry David Thoreau, <u style="font-style: italic;">The Maine Woods</u> 1864<br />
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It has ever been thus<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhHA-Dq5lOrcr8wAh9qydBn99NKCz_ZLsvVgwK3B859iZYBIb3NaQSv-h4fZJ8GxQa0Obgr2orJ7GM9jt4Ijb8XUQd56KwormW3Cqo8cRF_0eo4ADeg3EiKz47lQ8-KAO_S646YEnDnjBf/s1600/Paul+Bunyan+Statue+and+Birthplace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhHA-Dq5lOrcr8wAh9qydBn99NKCz_ZLsvVgwK3B859iZYBIb3NaQSv-h4fZJ8GxQa0Obgr2orJ7GM9jt4Ijb8XUQd56KwormW3Cqo8cRF_0eo4ADeg3EiKz47lQ8-KAO_S646YEnDnjBf/s400/Paul+Bunyan+Statue+and+Birthplace.jpg" width="280" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Statue of Paul Bunyan, Bangor ,Maine</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYE6-G-cg3VEUvaBq7r6NoTV1RtsH1ZjbwOqHVzrV-u9jcD1IFpMyqy_ZTJBtRQ-1rN6lveX6XERPCyOLbmRTbnCkKZgWf20AtlrhXb4aQ4XUN6u8BVXo_c0GHaFgOfuhxwZx01RYfxvIO/s1600/il_570xN.209234389.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYE6-G-cg3VEUvaBq7r6NoTV1RtsH1ZjbwOqHVzrV-u9jcD1IFpMyqy_ZTJBtRQ-1rN6lveX6XERPCyOLbmRTbnCkKZgWf20AtlrhXb4aQ4XUN6u8BVXo_c0GHaFgOfuhxwZx01RYfxvIO/s320/il_570xN.209234389.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlCir_sxlA6SSdBRcaopqemKvcWQxgWTpkWf2Q7kkUTJZY3jTvxGnfz_QT-O4paD86jiwgaRzlvm03w-CPccY0wxn6qpoBPkPT7aVPvwBD32nKUcSrDA3J8x-1JzfS2zX58wT63nlXip4V/s1600/107153_770_41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlCir_sxlA6SSdBRcaopqemKvcWQxgWTpkWf2Q7kkUTJZY3jTvxGnfz_QT-O4paD86jiwgaRzlvm03w-CPccY0wxn6qpoBPkPT7aVPvwBD32nKUcSrDA3J8x-1JzfS2zX58wT63nlXip4V/s320/107153_770_41.jpg" width="277" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">L.L Bean's Maine Guide Shirt.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRRYopn_mZpDRsdoea14lvdFs7WiseYS2RpGRu0gB9xQs8O-J9ETdXrC6BNM1imiq48dKztc6Hi4hVOI4d8bZI24XYMQZOastbHSO6s-p3vVBf-WZfsPrjh2xnClxCPx4-YiDK9E7bDgAm/s1600/2010_11_giltaxe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRRYopn_mZpDRsdoea14lvdFs7WiseYS2RpGRu0gB9xQs8O-J9ETdXrC6BNM1imiq48dKztc6Hi4hVOI4d8bZI24XYMQZOastbHSO6s-p3vVBf-WZfsPrjh2xnClxCPx4-YiDK9E7bDgAm/s320/2010_11_giltaxe.jpg" width="188" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://thoreau.eserver.org/henrythoreau.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://thoreau.eserver.org/henrythoreau.jpg" width="269" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 16px; text-align: start;">"Red is the great clarifier - bright, cleansing, revealing. It makes all colors beautiful. I can't imagine being bored with it - it would be like becoming tired of the person you love. I wanted this apartment to be a garden - but it had to be a garden in hell." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 16px; text-align: start;">Thoreau and Vreeland---Who knew?</span></div>
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Post Script:<br />
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Thoreau made this foray into fashion advice after his journey to the Chesuncook wilderness in 1853,where he stayed in a log cabin like the one below, and at a public house, whose unexpected presence led him to observe:</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdQ4Hczz2ZcwkYBqu1hrS4YEvSRRbu1VHTgEJ4ufQ3NIB0lrG9fYUN0xRbDeWAh0T7P_G5iCJHymxhcqT4HkIChkRADpy7kPcV1t2sKKeOHg1s_Sk1KmzZtaTtuxE6gj6SLxOo1ipiuMDx/s1600/alhpal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdQ4Hczz2ZcwkYBqu1hrS4YEvSRRbu1VHTgEJ4ufQ3NIB0lrG9fYUN0xRbDeWAh0T7P_G5iCJHymxhcqT4HkIChkRADpy7kPcV1t2sKKeOHg1s_Sk1KmzZtaTtuxE6gj6SLxOo1ipiuMDx/s400/alhpal.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">'Palace of the Pioneer, Chesuncook'</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">"Before our companions arrived, we rode on up the Moulton Road seven miles to Molunkus, where the Aroostook road comes into it, and where there is a spacious public house house in the woods. There was no other evidence of man but this huge shingle palace in this part of the world; but sometimes even this is filled with travelers. I looked off the piazza round the corner of the house up the Aroostook Road, on which there was no clearing in sight. There was a man just adventuring upon it this evening in a rude, original wagon, a mere seat with a wagon swung under it. </span>Here, too, was a small trader who kept a store in a box over the way, behind the Molunkus sign-post. I saw him standing in his shop door. His shop was so small, that, if a traveler should make demonstrations of entering, he would have to go out by the back way and confer with his customer through a window about his goods. <span style="text-align: justify;">"</span></div>
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11 years later, in 1864, the year in which the above description was published in <i>The Maine Woods</i>, the hotel described by Thoreau had been supplanted by a new tavern, the Chesuncook Lake House. In 1882, another traveler, Thomas Sedgwick Steele traveled up for the fishing, and in his book about the journey, <i>Paddle & Portage: From Moosehead Lake to the Aroostook River</i>, he left his own impression of the accomodations:</div>
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"There is a farm upon this lake It consists of a wilderness of ground and a collection of rickety sheds clustered like barnacles to a major pile which you suspect to be the homestead There is nothing pretentious about the architecture It is of a rather complex order and the span of life never seemed to me so short as at the moment I attempted to determine it Such a view of angles horizontals and perpendiculars never before greeted my eyes It was simply distracting The designing genius must have suffered with a cast in his eye or a mind disordered through indigestion These farm buildings stand alone in a large open tract.of country. The sight of them strikes you instantly as strange and unaccountable At first you wonder and half believe yourself in the vicinity of Ararat and a debilitated ark Then you shudder and give thought to a terrible suspicion a small pox hospital perhaps Finally unable to reach a plausible conclusion you forget you are in Maine and in generous sympathy with the glory awarded to all the super dilapidated buildings of the lower states declare at once that the pile must be the old headquarters of General Washington "</div>
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The Chesuncook Lake house still operates today. The population of Chesunccook village, in the last census was 10 (Ten), all of whom, we hope, wear red flannel shirts.</div>
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The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-2204601515374537242013-08-07T12:28:00.003-04:002013-08-07T13:13:06.532-04:00A TEMPLE FOR THE ARTS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>Note: this longer-than-usual post first appeared as an article on New York Social Diary, 01.14.2013</i><br />
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Summer Society has always needed its amusements, and Gilded Age Bar Harbor was no exception. Golf came first, as it often does. With the founding of the Kebo Valley Club in 1888, Bar Harbor was in the vanguard of the newly popular sport in America. The new club, with six holes designed by H.C. Leeds, was stated to be "cultivation of athletic sports and furnishing innocent amusement for the public (or at least that segment of the public listed in a new publication called The Social Register) for reasonable compensation." Or at least that segment of the public listed in a new publication called The Social Register, begun only two years earlier. With this, the transformation of Bar Harbor from hotel resort to fashionable summer colony had begun in earnest, and Society was--literally---off and swinging.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first Kebo Valley clubhouse, designed by Wilson Eyre</td></tr>
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The new clubhouse was designed by the Philadelphia architect Wilson Eyre in a suitably picturesque style — the marble splendors of Newport were not for Bar Harbor yet. The separation of hotel visitors and the new cottage society, in their large and elaborate villas, was well underway, and by June 1890, The New York Times was able to report:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="400" src="http://www.newyorksocialdiary.com/i/partypictures/01_14_12/brad/5th-Green,-Kebo-Valley-Club,-c.-1915.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="398" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fifth Green, Kebo, c. 1915</td></tr>
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“Kebo Valley aims to lead in things social, and is certainly in a way a sort of focus, though its claim cannot be said to be generally acknowledged yet. The transient people do not take kindly to it, as it tends to take away from the prestige of social affairs in the village. Nor are the cottage people by any means unanimous in its favor. It is for one thing,a bit away from the centre of things ...”<br />
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Whatever aversion the summer colony may have had to traveling a mile from town soon forgotten, and in addition to golf, Kebo offered tennis, hosted Bar Harbor’s early horse shows, and contained a theater suitable for dances and performances, including the amateur theatricals and tableaux so loved by Society of a simpler time.</div>
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The club lawns and verandas also served an all important function as a place to be seen in the afternoon, just as the Swimming Club on the West Street shore provided a morning promenade as the members of the colony swam to music from the Boston Symphony Players. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Society on parade at the second Kebo clubhouse (Maine Historic Preservation Commission)</td></tr>
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In 1899, the clubhouse at Kebo burned. A new clubhouse was built, but lacked the performance space of the old, and by 1905 a few leaders of the summer community decided that the time had come to build for the Arts---Music, Theater, Dance--- the same quality of facility as those already already available for the Amusements---Yachting, Golf, Tennis and Alcohol.</div>
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The site for the Arts Building was secured on Eagle Lake Road, at the very edge of one of the Kebo Valley Club’s putting green, which doubled as an outdoor amphitheater.</div>
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Five prominent members of the summer colony stepped forward with funds Mrs. Henry Dimock, sister of W.C. Whitney, George W. Vanderbilt, George B. Dorr, who would become a founder also of Acadia National Park, Fifth Avenue Hotel heir Henry Lane Eno, and Mrs. Robert Abbe, wife of the pioneer radiologist.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ORc323crVMl_vaI-tQXJEDm9AH7TtJuO9Yoc1uO8xVXseBRq2b77hEnOeAyJrXnH0x4hCHlEl_GPMgRbDn6qyceouujJU3tP-RMENPeZzOBHMuDDAmcb_phwsEi8mofB_3fnxzRVeLjm/s1600/Plan+of+the+Building+of+Arts%2528American+Architect%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ORc323crVMl_vaI-tQXJEDm9AH7TtJuO9Yoc1uO8xVXseBRq2b77hEnOeAyJrXnH0x4hCHlEl_GPMgRbDn6qyceouujJU3tP-RMENPeZzOBHMuDDAmcb_phwsEi8mofB_3fnxzRVeLjm/s400/Plan+of+the+Building+of+Arts%2528American+Architect%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plan of the Building of Arts</td></tr>
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The architect chosen was Guy Lowell, a fashionable country house architect who also designed the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. With the usual logic of a committee, it was decided that a Greek temple under the pine trees would provided the most appropriate setting for the high culture they envisioned for the rocky island. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The newly completed building of Arts, as published in <i>Architectural Review</i></td></tr>
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This temple was built not of stone, but stucco plastered over wood, “finished to represent Parian marble," and the red Venetian tile roof was supported by “the largest wooden columns ever turned in Maine.” Copies of the Parthenon Friezes, imported from Paris, were mounted on the facade. Inside, the walls and ceiling of the stage adapted the principles of the sounding boards of the great German concert halls, and the natural lighting was provided “from the top after the manner of the ancient Greek shrines.”</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The interior of the Building of Arts (Maine Historic Presevation Commission</td></tr>
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A proscenium curtain of golden English damask, specially woven for the building and elaborately embroidered, was donated by Mrs. John Inness Kane and George Vanderbilt. The building immediately attracted national attention, an article by Owen Wister in Century Magazine, as well as a large photographic spread in The Architectural Review.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rendering of the Building of Arts by Jules Guerin, from <i>Century Magazine</i></td></tr>
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The opening concert on June 13, 1907 featured Emma Eames, then one of the world’s leading lyric sopranos. She was followed over the years by many others of the world’s greats including the violinists Kreisler, Zimbalist and Kneisel, singers Alma Gluck and Roger de Bruyn, pianists Paderewski, Schelling, and Iturbe,conductors Damrosch and Stowkowski, and monologists Ruth Draper andCornelia Otis Skinner. Acting troupes such as the Washington Square Players and The Theatre Workshop performed Bar Harbor seasons, as did local stock companies like the Surry Players, sponsored by Mrs. Ethelbert Nevin, whose numbers included the young Henry Fonda.</div>
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<tr><td><img height="299" src="http://www.newyorksocialdiary.com/i/partypictures/01_14_12/brad/Arriving-for-a-Performance-(Maine-Historic-Preservation-Commission.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Matinee at the Building of Arts (Maine Historic Preservation Commission)</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">High Culture was not the only venue at the Building of Arts, and flower shows, including the Bar Harbor Sweet Pea competition were held there, as well as well as ‘serious’ lectures and art exhibits. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Greek Tableau, as published in <i>Architectural Review</i></td></tr>
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And of course, Society has always loved dress up no costume too silly,, and in the early years many amateur tableaux were featured, including a 1909 Greek pageant arranged by the artistic Mrs. Albert Clifford Barney, mother of Natalie (click <b><a href="http://thedowneastdilettante.blogspot.com/2010/05/sappho-and-amazon-down-east.html">HERE</a></b> for more about her) featuring members of the summer colony, including assorted Endicotts, Schieffelins, Gurnees, de Kovens, Pinchots and Welds traipsing about the grounds in diaphanous garb, acting the story of the love of Egeria for the mortal Strephon. At another, in 1915, members of society recreated favorite portraits.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Greek Pageant (<i>Architectural Review)</i></td></tr>
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The young widow Mrs. John Jacob Astor was a Reynolds beauty in picture hat, a Miss Maull balanced Mrs. Astor as a Gainsborough, Miss Mary Canfield andJohn J. Emery, Jr. were a Watteau Shepard and Shepardess, Mrs. Ernest Schelling reenacted a Polish Farm scene with costumes she’d brought from Poland, and family proud Albert Eugene Gallatin portrayed his own grandfather in a Gilbert Stuart Portrait. It was simpler time.<br />
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In those days before Tanglewood and the Pops, the Boston Symphony lay idle in the summer, and members of the orchestra, as the Boston Symphony Players, would spend the summer in Bar Harbor, playing at the Swimming Pool Club during the morning swim, and popular tunes at parties and dances in the evenings (This franchise was to receive serious competition when a young bandleader named Meyer Davis broke onto the Bar Harbor scene and his eventually became the orchestra of choice from Bar Harbor to Palm Beach.)</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Washington Square Players in costume for their performance at the Building of Arts (New York Times)</td></tr>
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Meanwhile, golf and art continued to merge at the edge of the Kebo Greens, and the Symphony Players even provided background music for a ladies putting tournament.</div>
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For all the glamour of the featured performers, the most extraordinary performance at the Building of Arts there was not seen by the public. In 1916, Meyer Davis was playing for the evening dances at the Malvern Hotel. In her memoirs, Mrs. Davis recounts watching the orchestra through a glass door behind the ballroom stage when she suddenly witnessed a most extraordinary little scene. A compact man, dapper in a pearl gray suit, entered the back of the room, and rather than taking a seat, as she expected, he suddenly, unseen by the others focused on the band, broke into a little gavotte. Entranced, she made inquiries, and to her astonishment, the man proved to be the great dancer Vaslav Nijinsky.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Njinsky (in costume for til Eulenspiegel, left)</td></tr>
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As World War I raged in Europe that summer, Serge Diaghelev instead sent Nijinsky to spend the summer at the Malvern, where it was hoped the fresh air and relative isolation of Bar Harbor would inspire the dancer to complete his new (and as fate had it, last) ballet, “Till Eulenspiegel.” Rest and isolation were relative concepts with Nijinsky and his wife, after one evening’s round of argument, took a car and drove aimlessly for two hours in the middle of the night, returning at dawn. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Robert Edmund Jones' costume designs for til Eulenspiegel</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A fashion columnist ponders Till Eulenspiegel's effect on fashion</td></tr>
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There is no record of a public performance by Nijinsky in Bar Harbor that summer, the Building of Arts became his rehearsal space, and there the ballet was choreographed for its opening in New York that winter. He was joined there by set and costume designer Robert Edmond Jones and by Paul Magriel, who wrote that "invitations to the great houses of Bar Harbor showered upon me like gold,” in the hope that the great dancer could be lured along with him, but Nijinsky rarely went out in society, instead rehearsing by day and working on the production designs by evening.</div>
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After the 1929 stock market crash, the Building of Arts soldiered on for a time. New patrons were found, impresario Timothee Adamowski continued to book important performers, but the clock was running out. The Surry Players performed Aristophanes’ ‘The Birds’ in the outdoor amphitheater in July of 1935.</div>
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The coverage in the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>New York Times</em><span class="apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span><span style="font-size: small;">the next day was far more
concerned with the quality of the audience than of the play. Notably absent
from the impressive listing of names---among them</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><strong>Mrs.
Reginald de Koven, Mrs. John D. Rockefeller Jr., Mrs. J. West Roosevelt, Mary
Roberts Rinehart, Mrs. Gerrish Milliken, Mrs. Shepard Fabbri---</strong><span style="font-size: small;">were the husbands, who may
have been back at the office in New York, or more likely, on their yachts or
the golf course next to the amphitheater, where one assumes that the occasional
cry of ‘fore’ punctuated the Greek chorus</span></div>
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In 1941, as America entered World War II, an exhibit was held at the Building of Arts for benefit of the American British Art Center, featuring Cecil Beaton’s then unpublished series “London’s Honorable Scars,” recent London war posters, and 25 sketches by J.M.W Turner. By the next season, Bar Harbor gas rationing had made remote Bar Harbor difficult of access, and the colony was a virtual ghost town, with many cottages shuttered, as some had been since the Depression.</div>
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John D. Rockefeller, Jr. had been among those who had quietly made up the Building of Arts deficit for years, and he had now taken stronger action, as the structure was about to be sold by the town for tax liens. Through his agent,Serenus Rodick, whose ancestors had built the largest of Bar Harbor’s early hotels, Rockefeller quietly purchased the building for $500, hoping to secure its future as a center for culture on the island. </div>
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By 1944, Rockefeller decided that adequate support was not forthcoming from the community, and he disposed of the building. It was acquired by Consuella de Sides, a pupil of Baba Ram Dass, who intended to make it once again a center of performance. In October 1947, the great forest fire that swept Bar Harbor in that driest of seasons swept across the Kebo Greens, destroying both the clubhouse and the Building of Arts. Bar Harbor’s temple for the high arts had lasted but forty years.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">President Taft, not attending a performance at the Building of the Arts.</td></tr>
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Kebo Valley Club survives, its golf course the eighth oldest in the country. The ‘Elbow Hole,” where President Taft carded 27 in the shadow of the Building of Arts, where he was not attending a performance, is now the 17th green, and nearby at the edge of the woods the broad steps of the lost temple lead nowhere.</div>
The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-20946932990426835342013-06-24T09:58:00.000-04:002013-06-24T14:24:54.423-04:00EARLY SUMMER VILLAGE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Castine, Maine is an indecently pretty place, the very paradigm of a New England village, classic crisp white houses on Elm-lined streets, sloping to a breathtaking harbor at the mouth of the Bagaduce River. It is a history-proud town,with dozens of charming historical markers noting the sites of important events of the last four hundred years. Though the village has infinite charms, time is short, we all have lawns to mow, and we'll look at just a very few today.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The earthwork ramparts of Fort Madison, built as defense against the British in 1812. It didn't work, and for a time after, our peninsula was again part of England.</td></tr>
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The rugosa roses are in full force this week, scenting the air and delighting the eye. One hedge in particular sweeps uphill at a curve on Perkins Street in Castine, leading to the front door of a most unlikely and charming little cottage.<br />
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According to the 1896 edition of Augustus Wheeler's history of Castine, this cottage was originally the Witham farmhouse, its first floor one of the few stone buildings in town. In 1884, Frank Wood, an entrepreneur from Bangor who built a number of picturesque log structures in the neighborhood in an effort to develop a summer colony, built a new cottage atop the stone foundation, using bark covered logs. His original renovations can be seen below. A few years later, another renovation gave the cottage its current form.</div>
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The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-61103597474642047452013-06-02T12:35:00.004-04:002013-10-22T13:48:13.267-04:00HOW THE DILETTANTE WATCHES A MOVIENo matter how engrossed I am by a film, I will eventually be distracted by the sets. Such was the case during a recent viewing of 'Giant', the wonderful, wonderful George Stevens production of Edna Ferber's story of Texas rancher Rock Hudson, his refined aristocratic wife Elizabeth Taylor, and their neighbor James Dean. I'm sure their characters had names, but let's face it: They were Rock Hudson, Elizabeth Taylor, and James Dean. Whenever the camera zoomed in on Taylor or Dean, the edges of the screen practically caught fire. They really don't make them like they used to.<br />
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In this movie, the interior sets are as much characters as the actors, and change along with them. The set design plot goes something like this:: Rock Hudson, back East on business, visits an associate at his old Maryland homestead---I did not get a screen shot of the exterior, but in Hollywood fashion, the set more resembles one of those Georgian country houses so beloved by the fox-hunting set on Long Island in the early years of the last century. As he enters the front hall, one finds oneself not in Maryland, but instead suddenly in New England, for the set designer has based his design on one of New England's handsomest 18th century interiors, the hall of <a href="http://thedowneastdilettante.blogspot.com/2010/01/favorite-rooms-grisaille-yes.html">the Moffatt-Ladd house</a> in Portsmouth New Hampshire. There are differences---the door heads are Federal, in the style of Salem's Samuel McIntyre, not Georgian Portsmouth. But, small quibble. It is interesting to see all the same<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAoJjFa2pNLTEj5rZ0CYfOg9j-kBlDEIVvA01HMaiCMlMZp9uMyeqRLOViKvC2jSiR1_DwU82rFaoAatLo9g9wQtHpndZVCYe9R9qQ9rYKDIn-kKEStKAyJ_DZuKs1kQpD5iG96WfR-07y/s1600/Set+from+Giant+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="355" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAoJjFa2pNLTEj5rZ0CYfOg9j-kBlDEIVvA01HMaiCMlMZp9uMyeqRLOViKvC2jSiR1_DwU82rFaoAatLo9g9wQtHpndZVCYe9R9qQ9rYKDIn-kKEStKAyJ_DZuKs1kQpD5iG96WfR-07y/s640/Set+from+Giant+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In love, Elizabeth Taylor dances in her parent's hall</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The original: The hall at the Moffatt-Ladd house in Portsmouth NH</td></tr>
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Later, we find Rock dining with Elizabeth and her family, partaking of Maryland hospitality. This room was copied from the drawing room of Arlington House, the Custis-Lee mansion in Virginia. We're getting closer---after all, Arlington is just the other side of Washington from Maryland<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1Vl63oZP3xLPgatkXPWCwAjuaYY6QuB9KyJQG58agHeIRwzNvRwfNqycduCLNaXrghEsWfsjxyy6dIvGRk-Hjq9g_GwV8jO_5-eWPkTmnmLu-A1OeRRTQ-OyufzT7x22HmnaOcfQRtD0/s1600/Set+from+Giant+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1Vl63oZP3xLPgatkXPWCwAjuaYY6QuB9KyJQG58agHeIRwzNvRwfNqycduCLNaXrghEsWfsjxyy6dIvGRk-Hjq9g_GwV8jO_5-eWPkTmnmLu-A1OeRRTQ-OyufzT7x22HmnaOcfQRtD0/s400/Set+from+Giant+3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Despite a slight difference in proportion, there is no mitaking the historical source for the dining room set.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two views of the White Parlor at Arlington house, with its lovely Leghorn marble fireplace surround, and reeded over doors.</td></tr>
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In short order, Rock and Liz marry, and go home to the gloomy old house built by Rock's father on the family's Reata ranch, in the middle of Nowhere on the Texas plains. <br />
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The newlyweds are greeted in the baronial hall by Rock's less than friendly sister, Mercedes McCambridge. The Old Dominion gentility of Liz's childhood home has been left far behind.<br />
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But not to worry, distraction from the brooding decor arrives in the person of brooding James Dean.<br />
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But, that doesn't keep Liz from updating the decoration in the hall to something more closely resembling her genteel youth.<br />
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After awhile, everyone in the movie seems to strike oil, and the decorating at Reata really takes off---Liz brings things up to snuff, chic in monochromatic gray to complement her hair (The years have passed, and she's now the mother of nearly grown Carole Baker).</div>
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Rooms b y Frances Elkins<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG36S9qg47Oa1CKiCVH9JCByVQ0D5IBxA5rUESDDjjHuNvXMyIxR7V40fS5SpAEurSwl9TEBU-0sgXXp3BHdDFTA9Ly6VHO_rgqN17YVpLHqlwxVQa5FlJNVoakyQdq3nhYqK7LZ66YT3-/s1600/IMG_3078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG36S9qg47Oa1CKiCVH9JCByVQ0D5IBxA5rUESDDjjHuNvXMyIxR7V40fS5SpAEurSwl9TEBU-0sgXXp3BHdDFTA9Ly6VHO_rgqN17YVpLHqlwxVQa5FlJNVoakyQdq3nhYqK7LZ66YT3-/s400/IMG_3078.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A bedroom designed by Frances Elkins</td></tr>
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The Hall gets yet a sleeker treatment also, but I didn't get a screen grab. However, at some point, Liz and Rock wind up at a new hotel development built by James Dean, who also struck oil. The set designer really knew what he or she was up to, for the suites in this hotel would do Dorothy Draper proud.<br />
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And there you have it---how a design fan sees a classic movie.<br />
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Baz Luhrman's set designer could take lessons.<br />
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The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-44413196677209740572013-05-20T14:47:00.000-04:002014-03-22T00:00:19.297-04:00OPPOSITE POINTS OF VIEW<div style="text-align: justify;">
In my boyhood, two iconic pictures defined the sense of place and history in our community . The first was a painting, 'A Morning View of Bluehill Village, 1824' by the Reverend Jonathan Fisher, a Yankee polymath who had come here fresh out of Harvard in 1795 to be the first settled minister of the village. The other was a late 19th century 'Bird's Eye View' lithograph, published, coincidentally, 100 years after Parson Fisher's arrival.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOskPRdFR2GlGiJz9RzOiatxI38wuf3PvD76MIYOUayAMZuqveVCur-WUdWX2i9vbjtaWS1lP3jox4Xl-Uj_PVcmpkoKiKT4eHjrfqwro0SX6tdeBMqA1hh5w8ySZsdzMbe9k4Y2TTxue6/s1600/copy+4+shipyard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOskPRdFR2GlGiJz9RzOiatxI38wuf3PvD76MIYOUayAMZuqveVCur-WUdWX2i9vbjtaWS1lP3jox4Xl-Uj_PVcmpkoKiKT4eHjrfqwro0SX6tdeBMqA1hh5w8ySZsdzMbe9k4Y2TTxue6/s640/copy+4+shipyard.jpg" height="314" width="640" /></a></div>
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Fisher's painting is a summary of his life and career in the town. Although Blue Hill, originally New Andover, was settled in 1762 near the tidal falls at what is now South Blue Hill, the young village at the head of the Bay that Fisher later painted had barely existed before his arrival, but for a couple of houses, and grew and developed in those thirty subsequent years. Fisher's journals carefully record his progress on the painting, including traipsing to the Treworgy farm on the next hill (now known as Greene's Hill, after later owners), with his homemade camera obscura, to make the first sketches in September 1824, and then note progress on the work until its completion in April 1825. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBsO-LlUpJ8eismftAzsidyWLaUt296cPv4IGY_lBB7bTyeZvpqONvNQE45tnQpJO_6IsFdGiMNjWzZL74NSijUoGyy3WLwhvQt6mbmVC5m2AMTg0qqlwk__BhYJyJqyAVQ-WGxVsEcIqS/s1600/33922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBsO-LlUpJ8eismftAzsidyWLaUt296cPv4IGY_lBB7bTyeZvpqONvNQE45tnQpJO_6IsFdGiMNjWzZL74NSijUoGyy3WLwhvQt6mbmVC5m2AMTg0qqlwk__BhYJyJqyAVQ-WGxVsEcIqS/s320/33922.JPG" height="246" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Parson Fisher's home-made camera obscura</td></tr>
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The village spreads out below the hill, quiet in the morning light. In the foreground a man (Fisher?) drives a snake from this Eden. There were probably roosters crowing, maybe hammers and saws working on the boats under construction at the edge of the harbor, but we can't hear those sounds. All is quiet, frozen in time. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKQyMuLiFMwrT5k-jVzL3dXQc1pwCLhVe_ul1C7v49xgzZ0p9Dl1F9i1bTi_GNmQ2XrjXgSGKzf-O9iUsWYhwEtMVVpqfz15OBkGUBVUezwpMPscz9BadZ5VKNcj4paGaU0uRWLkW3wahB/s1600/Fisher+farm+from+Morning+View.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKQyMuLiFMwrT5k-jVzL3dXQc1pwCLhVe_ul1C7v49xgzZ0p9Dl1F9i1bTi_GNmQ2XrjXgSGKzf-O9iUsWYhwEtMVVpqfz15OBkGUBVUezwpMPscz9BadZ5VKNcj4paGaU0uRWLkW3wahB/s400/Fisher+farm+from+Morning+View.jpg" height="243" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Detail of the Fisher Farm from <i>A Morning View of Blue Hill</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj6DfiBrj0xDWUGjo6D3ZIQlntTio_DWZ2T4_ce55z_Xlw3Yk7MAa5OaAN_QNzRsUSGgYMO-i3UVpp6HlNuhMqwMY9T084s69_uojI0uRb58lj4BJNRDapfgIqKXhHCb8CusN120Kr81k-/s1600/Planting+Day+016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj6DfiBrj0xDWUGjo6D3ZIQlntTio_DWZ2T4_ce55z_Xlw3Yk7MAa5OaAN_QNzRsUSGgYMO-i3UVpp6HlNuhMqwMY9T084s69_uojI0uRb58lj4BJNRDapfgIqKXhHCb8CusN120Kr81k-/s400/Planting+Day+016.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">The Fisher House from the same perspective today.</td></tr>
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Opposite where he sat surveying the scene, on the top horizon, was Fisher's <i>raison d'etre</i> for choosing this perspective: his own farm, with its tidy orchard, and just downhill to the right, the meeting house where he preached, with the parade ground before it. It is a scrupulously honest picture. In the right middle ground is the Baptist meeting house, to which Fisher, a stern Calvinist, had lost much of his flock when it was founded a few years before. In a village near the Eastern Frontier, far removed from the centers of art, this painting was considered a marvel, and was revered locally long before it found its way into the collection of the Farnsworth Art Museum. Considered the first true depiction of a Maine coastal scene, it has been published in countless books about American folk art and early 19th century culture.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6aieRvC8gUN9-FrXZ4aRQcX4xmsTOxbI1n89f8r8UsP77DF9eg5Afz7JBiTeNlb4gGQOAss4f0dIt2WyembkJvVQXJpqOlyrixq2L8_cfkS7287_FjCrZMpyNMpA4FGmOHDeN3i6BhDpr/s1600/Morning+View+Photo,+exhibition+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6aieRvC8gUN9-FrXZ4aRQcX4xmsTOxbI1n89f8r8UsP77DF9eg5Afz7JBiTeNlb4gGQOAss4f0dIt2WyembkJvVQXJpqOlyrixq2L8_cfkS7287_FjCrZMpyNMpA4FGmOHDeN3i6BhDpr/s400/Morning+View+Photo,+exhibition+copy.jpg" height="287" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A late 19th century photograph captures the view originally painted by Fisher</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNzedzfp9zURdAZEaZ6qQSuPOn9uytsGzysqMzGNSUA9B78T2k4jjw8pI8F9meykX3OYCGxkykPNNAzsUAjtSkOksZRFC6hbBMKkhX8K8IOxsQIgC-g9_AiXBGGzxQh_IWV6I2dRNzVtFy/s1600/Tenney+Hill+panorma+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNzedzfp9zURdAZEaZ6qQSuPOn9uytsGzysqMzGNSUA9B78T2k4jjw8pI8F9meykX3OYCGxkykPNNAzsUAjtSkOksZRFC6hbBMKkhX8K8IOxsQIgC-g9_AiXBGGzxQh_IWV6I2dRNzVtFy/s400/Tenney+Hill+panorma+copy.jpg" height="147" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And on the opposite hill, one looks across to the spot (indicated by box) from which Fisher painted his view. The photograph, actually two joined, is from the series used in the creation of the bird's eye view</td></tr>
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The second view was created by an artist using dozens of photographs taken in panoramic perspective, then mechanically re-aligned so as to appear taken from the air--a dozen years before the Wright Brothers would go aloft, and aerial photography become commonplace. What fascinates and compels me to write about these pictures this morning is that each depicts the view from almost exactly the opposite center of the other--they literally look across to each other. In the bird's eye view, the Treworgy Farm is on the horizon about a third way from the right, and in the Fisher painting, one looks across to the spot that would be directly below the airborne viewer.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj46lUytYrLW4MZEWyUmn6pQEptnwQ-EnsluyhXVqEcL9mHF3g-NeeVdNmzPfrvD28J_Mlwz_1lfwJL0eVPOAWWvTce8msVsZTvyO7fqcAEFr1jgxvmfJ1xcUZ4ASNqxy4ZgFztjhx4mYic/s1600/jp2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj46lUytYrLW4MZEWyUmn6pQEptnwQ-EnsluyhXVqEcL9mHF3g-NeeVdNmzPfrvD28J_Mlwz_1lfwJL0eVPOAWWvTce8msVsZTvyO7fqcAEFr1jgxvmfJ1xcUZ4ASNqxy4ZgFztjhx4mYic/s640/jp2.jpg" height="386" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bird's Eye View of Blue Hill, 1896. For a full-screen version, please click <b><a href="http://www.mainegenealogy.net/graphics/bluehillmap.asp">HERE</a></b></td></tr>
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The village has become quite a different place in the bird's eye view. Fisher's meetinghouse burned in 1842, and was replaced with a new Congregational Church downhill, closer to the center of the village. The Baptist meeting house has become a church, with a spire echoing that of the Congregationalists. A main street of stores, with post office and restaurants has grown up at the edge of the harbor. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMdjVVSM94yYtWX6lAPxRAcFkJkewRnQKJ20jSwpcDs3hhbd4nyGYi_V6DrQ3xSlsRd_37SDVS0i4DCrmweVfdI-K22F8AXIPmXbkNToawqUgcUvY5NAj3TA8g5S_71mDtkEwi2YenXvBS/s1600/Scan10001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMdjVVSM94yYtWX6lAPxRAcFkJkewRnQKJ20jSwpcDs3hhbd4nyGYi_V6DrQ3xSlsRd_37SDVS0i4DCrmweVfdI-K22F8AXIPmXbkNToawqUgcUvY5NAj3TA8g5S_71mDtkEwi2YenXvBS/s640/Scan10001.JPG" height="368" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Town Hall, designed by George Clough</td></tr>
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A new town hall, designed by the architect son of a local shipbuilder, has just been constructed, Colonial in idea, but its Roman arched frontispiece clearly inspired by the newly popular classical ideas of the great Chicago Exposition of a couple years before. As with Fisher's painting, a schooner is coming into the harbor, but despite sails, this one has smoke or steam rising from a stack on its deck. Although Fisher's village still mostly survives, the 20th century is around the corner, and in the foreground is a harbinger of things to come---a big shiny new summer hotel for the newest Maine industry, rusticators.</div>
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The hotel, the Blue Hill Inn, was designed by William Ralph Emerson, the Boston architect who practically invented the shingled style of summer architecture favored on the Maine coast, and was the latest marvel of the town, complete with its own electric power plant, and supplanted the boarding houses and modest village hotels of earlier years. The Inn was not a success, and with the removal of a wing, was converted to use as a summer cottage by a new owner, Judge Chauncey Truax of New York, in the early 1900s. Later, it served as a temporary hospital, and in the early years of the Depression, it went up in flames.</div>
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The 21st century is not being kind to the village of the 19th and 20th centuries. Poor planning, lack of zoning, changing tastes, a little greed, changing economies and myriad other factors are wreaking changes on a scale that is unprecedented in our collective memory. Change used to be gradual, and somewhat organic (South Street, new home of both roundabout and Dunkin' Donuts, was still a narrow gravel lane as recently as my childhood). In recent years, the change has come faster, more forcefully, and has been more destructive. Even as I type this, a rotary is being constructed at the dusty crossroads to the left of the Inn, and a Dunkin Donuts is going up on the inn site, across from the supermarket and Rite Aid drugstore that started the commercial sprawl. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bird's eye rendering of the new Dunkin' Donuts</td></tr>
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As to the Fisher homestead, it is preserved as a museum, its original orchard replanted a few years ago (for an article about the Fisher Orchard, click <b><a href="http://thedowneastdilettante.blogspot.com/2010/05/early-down-east-orchard.html">HERE</a></b>.) But, now only a thousand feet from a car wash and a new commerical parking lot with clear development intentions, the Fisher house's integrity and isolation, which lasted for most of the 20th century, is clearly coming to an end as it approaches its 200th anniversary.</div>
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On another note, the photograph below, from the George Stevens Academy on-line student paper, <a href="http://gsaprocrastinator.com/"><i><b>'The Procrastinator'</b></i></a>, both sums up the local ambivalence about the arrival of Dunkin' Donuts, and on a more personal note, brings the Dilettante up short, for 43 years ago he was the editor of that school's paper, then called 'The Eagle's Nest'. At that time it was a mimeographed four-sheet (my great contribution was sharper stencil graphics), and the slick advances in technology and content make me feel very, very old indeed.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photoshop image of Blue Hill Mountain from GSA Procrastinator, credited to William Hilliard</td></tr>
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As for Jonathan Fisher, a current exhibit at the Farnsworth Art Museum explores Fisher's ongoing fascination with the natural world in his art and writing, culminating in the book, 'Scripture Animals' (1833). Click <b><a href="http://www.farnsworthmuseum.org/exhibition/wondrous-journey-jonathan-fisher-and-making-scripture-animals">HERE</a> </b>for more.</div>
The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-37194564770510222572013-04-26T15:05:00.002-04:002017-12-22T21:06:18.921-05:00MISS SPENCE DISAPPROVES. Dilettante Writes Again<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; text-align: justify;">Before movie stars became the tabloid currency of choice, Society figures were America's chief tabloid obsession. One of 1911's major tabloid fixations was the marriage of 47 year-old John Jacob Astor IV, recently divorced and one of the richest men in America, to 18 year-old Madeline Force, a Bar Harbor summer resident. Thousands of columns of newspaper ink were expended on the their courtship. The marriage was denounced from the pulpits, and from Bar Harbor, the redoubtable Clara B. Spence founder of Miss Spence's School for Girls, (who herself had an opinion or two about the proper raising of a Society girl), weighed in with a letter to the Editor of The New York Times:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Miss Spence had formerly summered across the bay at Sorrento, but now spent her summers at Bar Harbor with her longtime companion, Miss Charlotte Baker, the assistant principal at Spence, an heiress to the fortune left by her aunt's husband, John Steward Kennedy. Two years later, Spence and Baker, with their four adopted children, would move from a cottage on the Kennedy estate to 'The Willows' a beautiful Regency style cottage designed for Miss Baker by the Boston firm of Andrews Jaques & Rantoul on Eden Street. "The Willows" would eventually pass to Miss Baker's sister, Mrs. Francis Kellogg, and later be sold to Canadian mining tycoon Sir Harry Oakes, but that's another story, which can be found <b><a href="http://thedowneastdilettante.blogspot.com/2010/03/when-bad-things-happen-to-nice-houses.html" target="_blank">HERE</a></b></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Misses Spence & Baker, with adopted daughters Margaret Spence & Ruth Baker (Spence School)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Despite Miss Spence's disapproval, the Astor marriage went ahead, only to be cut short when Col. Astor perished aboard the <i>Titanic</i> in April of 1912. In August of 1912, three of the survivors, Madeline Astor, Mrs. George Widener, and Mrs. John B.Thayer, were in Bar Harbor as the guests of Mrs. A.J. Cassatt at "Four Acres", the Cassatt estate, which abuttied the property where Miss Baker and Miss Spence's new cottage was rising. </span> </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">'The Willows', the Bar Harbor cottage of Miss Baker</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The next summer, even as the Misses Baker and Spence were moving into "The Willows", Mrs. Astor was also moving, into a nearby cottage also designed by Andrews, Jaques & Rantoul, a few carefully raked gravel driveways up Eden Street from the famed educators.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">La Selva, ocean front in better days</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">That house was 'La Selva', built in 1903 for Pennsylvania coal baron Andrew Davis. During Mrs. Astor's occupancy members of the press were frequently seen lurking at the gates in search of news about Mrs. Astor and her new baby, John Jacob Astor VI. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">In 1916, Harper's Bazaar caught Mrs. Astor at Bar Harbor as she was about to be remarried.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A few years later, Mrs. Astor would depart "La Selva" for a more secluded cottage on the George Vanderbilt estate, but "La Selva" would soon attract another colorful tenant, Mrs. Leonard Thomas, formerly Blanche Oelrichs of Newport, known professionally as the playwright, poet, and actress Michael Strange. Sometimes referred to as 'the most beautiful woman in America', Mrs. Thomas was already planning to leave her banker husband to obtain a Paris divorce, that she might run away with her lover, John Barrymore, one of the most famous actors of his day.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">La Selva's next tenant was the beautiful Michael Strange (nee Blanche Oelrichs), seen here with her lover and later husband, John Barrymore.</td></tr>
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'<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">La Selva' is currently for sale, its condition more than a little reminiscent of 'Grey Gardens'. I have written its colorful history for 'House of the Month' in the current issue of Portland Monthly. The article may be read <b><a href="http://www.portlandmonthly.com/pdf/LaSelva.pdf">HERE.</a> </b>More pictures <b><a href="http://www.portlandmonthly.com/portmag/2013/04/laselva-extras/">HERE</a>.</b></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">La Selva, views of entrance front taken two weeks ago</td></tr>
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The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-27091057243241892022013-04-22T00:21:00.003-04:002013-04-22T08:00:51.311-04:00DRIVING AROUND: HANCOCK POINT<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Desert Island from Hancock Point (photograph, Ivy Main via Wikimedia Commons)</td></tr>
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I'm afraid I've been a bit boring lately. As the manuscript for the book starts to take shape, my focus has been narrowed to near obsession, on the architecture of the 27 different summer colonies that fan around this section of the coast, from Rockport to Winter Harbor, as I continue to visit archives and individuals in the search for interesting material. Once a Dilettante who knew a little bit about a great many trivial topics, I now know a great deal, much of it trivia, about one topic.</div>
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As the concept of summering, or as it was know then, rusticating, gained momentum in Maine in the 1880's, and as Bar Harbor became one of the most fashionable destinations in the country, a resort boom gripped the lonely shores across Frenchman's Bay from that gilded place. Large tracts of oceanfront land were gobbled up by real estate speculators hoping to repeat the momentum at Mt. Desert. Land companies were formed, lots were laid out, those dual necessities---steamship wharves and hotels---were built, illustrated brochures were printed, tennis grounds laid out, and the race was on to attract wealthy city dwellers to each Arcadia. Despite those common characteristics and amenities--including the imagination-defying views across to Mt. Desert perhaps without peer on the Atlantic coast---each of these colonies developed differently, each with its unique character.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhyphenhyphenHLKfDkh1iyYVlG_ZrSzysLt6sf_umrTez4qeKbEgG1CzhZ3TwiGhGbmTzjlrs5VKxDfORUK1CXDnRoMWRaUortL9ApEvtoytEF7tCXrB2bNtiVMaM0G4gBZE2521FfrUvdqjP1pZsb8/s1600/Sullivan+Sorrento+Historical+Soci+%25287%2529+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhyphenhyphenHLKfDkh1iyYVlG_ZrSzysLt6sf_umrTez4qeKbEgG1CzhZ3TwiGhGbmTzjlrs5VKxDfORUK1CXDnRoMWRaUortL9ApEvtoytEF7tCXrB2bNtiVMaM0G4gBZE2521FfrUvdqjP1pZsb8/s400/Sullivan+Sorrento+Historical+Soci+%25287%2529+-+Copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cottages at Hancock Point, c. 1895 (Courtesy Sullivan-Sorrento Historical Society)</td></tr>
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Today, those little colonies, far closer to Canada than to Kennebunkport, seem remote---as their inhabitants prefer it---but in the day, when steamship and train were the chief modes of travel, one could take a day boat to Bar Harbor--each community had service----go shopping, have lunch, or attend a concert or a ball, and be back home on the opposite shore in time for bed. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Desert Ferry Landing, at Hancock Point, The Bluffs hotel in background</td></tr>
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Hancock Point was, I think, the earliest of these developments (the others were Sullivan Harbor, <b><a href="http://thedowneastdilettante.blogspot.com/2012/04/almost-every-summer-colony-in-maine.html" target="_blank">Sorrento</a></b>, Winter Harbor, <a href="http://thedowneastdilettante.blogspot.com/2012/04/then-now.html" target="_blank"><b>Grindstone Neck</b></a> and <b><a href="http://thedowneastdilettante.blogspot.com/2010/01/way-down-east-two-windswepts.html" target="_blank">Petit Manan Point</a></b>), and geographically the first encountered as one sails 'down east' up the coast. It was conveniently adjacent to the train and steamship landing at Hancock Ferry, where later the crack Bar Harbor Express, originating at Grand Central in New York, had its terminus, trailing behind it the private railroad cars of the plutocrats who then would board a ferry for Bar Harbor. It was laid out in 1883 by Joseph Curtis, a pioneering landscape architect and conservationist who summered in Northeast Harbor. It was a far smaller development than the others---125 lots as opposed to the ambitious 2,000 proposed for Sullivan Harbor, for example.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This octagonal cottage, with its rustic porch of natural cedar , was built by a Mr. Johnson in 1887. In 1914, his daugher Lettie donated it for use as a library, which it purpose it still serves today.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An early farmhouse, converted to summer use after the development of the Point, with a restraint too seldom seen today.</td></tr>
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Many of Hancock Point's earliest summer residents were not from far cities, but were lumber merchants and bankers from Bangor. They were soon joined by college professors such as Charles Homer Haskins, the great Harvard medievalist, and by quietly well-to-do urbanites who preferred to avoid the flash of Mt. Desert (I've been to maybe a dozen cocktail parties on Hancock Point over the years, and unfailingly, at each one someone has pointed out how 'we' are not 'fancy' like 'them' over on Mt. Desert). At any rate, Hancock Point, after two World Wars, a great depression, and changes in travel, is a sleepy little place with big views and some very fine smaller summer cottage architecture along its gravel lanes.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A water tower at one of the cottages</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This cottage, which sometimes shelters a noted politician, was designed by Fred Savage</td></tr>
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The earliest cottages were gingerbread designs, closely sited. By the end of the 19th century, comfortable but not vast shingle style cottages, on larger lots were the norm. Landscapes were kept simple, with respect for the natural landscape---very few of the elaborate gardens that characterized some of the summer estates of other resorts were laid out on Hancock Point.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The last built of the pre-Depression summer cottages is also the grandest</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A recent guest cottage delightfully references the earliest cottages on the Point</td></tr>
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Although the Point layout included a central chapel lot, the current chapel was built around 1900 to designs by the great Maine architect John Calvin Stevens, one of the chief innovators in what we know today as the shingle style. As with many of the summer colonies, it is one of the finest bits of architecture in the place---and Anglican, of course...</div>
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PS. I was reminded this morning that Hancock Point has another attraction, listed in the National Register of Historic Places---the spot where Nazi spies landed from a U-boat, one of only two places where the Germans breached the US during World War II (Obviously, it was off-season, otherwise the summer folk would never have allowed it) That story<b> <a href="http://www.americainwwii.com/articles/nazi-spies-come-ashore/" target="_blank">here:</a></b> </div>
The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-30319721136302250742013-04-12T09:53:00.001-04:002013-04-12T10:14:05.969-04:00OF LOBSTER PRODUCTS AND AGAIN WITH THE WEATHEROnce again, for those who may ever have wondered why Maine has 'Summer People' not 'Spring People', I present the answer. It's the middle of April, for crying out loud. Even with our lowered Spring expectations, this is cruel.<br />
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Today</div>
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<a class="iconSwitchSmall" href="http://draft.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=4185045903146972312" style="border: 1px solid rgb(190, 190, 190); color: #213f9a; display: block; float: left; height: 22px; margin-right: 5px; outline-style: none; width: 22px;"><img alt="Ice Pellets" class="condIcon" src="http://icons-ak.wxug.com/i/c/k/sleet.gif" style="border: 0px; height: 22px; width: 22px;" title="Ice Pellets" /></a><span class="b" style="font-weight: bold;">41</span> °F</div>
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Ice Pellets<br />
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100% chance of precipitation</div>
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Tonight</div>
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100% chance of precipitation</div>
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Tomorrow</div>
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Sunday</div>
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Monday</div>
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<a class="iconSwitchSmall" href="http://draft.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=4185045903146972312" style="border: 1px solid rgb(190, 190, 190); color: #213f9a; display: block; float: left; height: 22px; margin-right: 5px; outline-style: none; width: 22px;"><img alt="Mostly Cloudy" class="condIcon" src="http://icons-ak.wxug.com/i/c/k/mostlycloudy.gif" style="border: 0px; height: 22px; width: 22px;" title="Mostly Cloudy" /></a><span class="b" style="font-weight: bold;">50</span> | 37 °F</div>
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Tuesday</div>
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<a class="iconSwitchSmall" href="http://draft.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=4185045903146972312" style="border: 1px solid rgb(190, 190, 190); color: #213f9a; display: block; float: left; height: 22px; margin-right: 5px; outline-style: none; width: 22px;"><img alt="Chance of Rain" class="condIcon" src="http://icons-ak.wxug.com/i/c/k/chancerain.gif" style="border: 0px; height: 22px; width: 22px;" title="Chance of Rain" /></a><span class="b" style="font-weight: bold;">54</span> | 39 °F</div>
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Ever wonder why Yankees are dour? Wonder no longer. Apparently April is the New March up here.</div>
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In other news, the Maine lobster branding thing sometimes goes beyond the t-shirts and key chains. these were spotted in a local grocery store. Yuck. The 'Lobster Tracks' ice cream can be found in another aisle. Since when is 1/2 cup a single serving of ice cream? Puhleeze. When was the last time you saw a 1/2 cup carton of ice cream? </div>
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The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-22262073606109178352013-04-08T11:38:00.000-04:002013-04-08T12:40:15.981-04:00NEW HAMPSHIRE GOTHIC<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
I passed through Manchester, New Hampshire the other day. New Hampshire's largest city, it is a sprawling place, with a downtown badly impacted by Urban Renewal, and the decline of the textile industry that once made it one of the great manufacturing centers of New England. Despite this, many fine examples of 19th century architecture survive, in varying degrees of preservation, amidst the parking lots and malls. One that particularly catches my eye is the City Hall, designed in 1845 by the enterprising Edward Shaw of Boston, author of several of the most influential pattern books of his era.</div>
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Originally stuccoed, and I'm told by a friend, scored and veined to resemble marble, the building was restored with its warm brick exposed, as it has been for many years. It once dominated Elm Street, the broad main street of the city, with its rows of low brick commercial structures. Today, its entrace faces one of Manchester's tallest buildings.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: right;"><i>Manchester Chamber of Commerce</i></td></tr>
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For all the English inspiration of the facades, the belfry could only be American, so distinctive the take on the medieval precedent.<br />
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A commercial building next door, probably early 20th century, is a particularly tactful and successful complement to the earlier structure (but too bad about those poorly considered awnings)<br />
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Just around the corner, survivors of the earlier mercantile city display the earlier scale<br />
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Shaw's pattern books, like those of Asher Benjamin, helped spread the Greek Revival style through New England. In the 1840's, he caught the Gothic bug, and along with New Yorkers Downing and Vaux, helped popularize the new style.<br />
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Above, a plate from Shaw's 'Rural Architecture' (Boston, 1842). Variations of these designs, most often in wood, are seen across New England.The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-3901348161080415692013-03-24T10:42:00.001-04:002013-03-25T09:53:26.439-04:00ANNALS OF RESEARCH: MAKING EVIDENCE LINE UPAs one sifts through material in search of interesting houses for the book, looking for interesting houses that will interest and delight the reader, one is distracted by many other bits along the way.<br />
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For example, I've had this illustration, from<i> American Architect & Building News</i>, on file for years, Designed by James Brown Lord for one Mrs. S.K. Henning. Not much evidence that it was ever built, but curious, I persevered. Even in the age of Google, one has trouble finding much about Mrs. Henning. Her first name was Sarah, neither husband nor source of fortune are mentioned, and her social life seems to have been led mostly Tuxedo Park-Bar Harbor over a brief few years before and after 1900. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf4YZexOSc2lQ81im9Ec0ZWujV7o5tpxU2HymqwroMuEKjLB-Kj9rQkhzj4S_WljmSlK4Ahg9ErDT5s_2O7MFPQuM11N7Wgfo72VJzMbgq64hEEGtD0E7WESiK17JdrOQ0bTXNBHu9PGFh/s1600/IMG_4504.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="421" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf4YZexOSc2lQ81im9Ec0ZWujV7o5tpxU2HymqwroMuEKjLB-Kj9rQkhzj4S_WljmSlK4Ahg9ErDT5s_2O7MFPQuM11N7Wgfo72VJzMbgq64hEEGtD0E7WESiK17JdrOQ0bTXNBHu9PGFh/s640/IMG_4504.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I pursued a few leads. I found Mrs. Henning in the Bar Harbor cottage directory as a guest at one of the hotels in 1893. Then I found this house, built for James Henning in 1895 in Tuxedo Park, James Brown Lord, architect. Not the same design, but certainly similar. </div>
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At that point, one assumed that perhaps Mrs. Henning was married to James Henning, and that they decided to build in Tuxedo instead? At any rate, nowhere in available collections did any larger amount of material appear to exist that would fast-track the Henning cottage into the book, and I moved on.</div>
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Since then, the old Bar Harbor newspapers have become available digitally, and a few weeks ago, in pursuit of other information, I came across a mention in the <i>Bar Harbor Record</i> of June 1894 which announced that Mrs. J.H. Henning of Louisville, Kentucky and her two children were guests at the St. Sauveur Hotel while their new cottage on Cleftstone Road was being completed. Hmmm. But where on Cleftstone Road, and was it the house shown in <i>American Architect</i>? This of course, is where your completely undisciplined Uncle Dilettante strays off the path he's supposed to be following, and true to form, I wandered off to find more. A quick search turned up an article about Mrs. Henning's new cottage, describing a house nothing like the one designed by James Brown Lord, which obviously hadn't been built.</div>
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A few days later, again while not looking, I ambled across a longer article about the new Henning Cottage, whose architect was Sidney Stratton (the actual subject of that particular search), who shared office space and occasionally worked with, McKim, Mead & White, and designed a house that will be in the book.</div>
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The article was accompanied by a crude wood engraving showing the new house, called 'Air Castle', into which Mrs. Henning and children moved on August 01, 1894. A further search finds the family in residence for the 1895 season, and then they disappear from the face of Bar Harbor, consistent with the 1896 completeion date of the house in Tuxedo Park, completed in 1896. One has no idea why they departed Bar Harbor so quickly, after having tried it out for a couple of seasons then having built a large cottage only to sell it two years later but there you have it. On the 1896 Bar Harbor map, the cottage appears, renamed 'Hillhurst' and owned by one Helen Seely (for those of you who protest that the shape pictured is not consistent with the house pictured, let me assure you that on the more accurately delineated 1904 map, it does appear correctly).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghiHMMyA9yPG_y66p3FdqNY-UZ2wHEyxekf5TihtMepR_8z6nf8FSrXxhp7am_XaqGjmiZiUjpP0nKrRXhlE7pW8zqUo0enDkeXxFQ5I3Wk5HWjzW3_UbAWfTmJUE22g7ugQDN2ecxmcHi/s1600/Henning+Stratton+design+built.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghiHMMyA9yPG_y66p3FdqNY-UZ2wHEyxekf5TihtMepR_8z6nf8FSrXxhp7am_XaqGjmiZiUjpP0nKrRXhlE7pW8zqUo0enDkeXxFQ5I3Wk5HWjzW3_UbAWfTmJUE22g7ugQDN2ecxmcHi/s400/Henning+Stratton+design+built.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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And there this post would end, except that a few weeks later, I was flipping through an old Bar Harbor guildebook, with pictures of cottages, when what should appear but the engraving below:</div>
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The problem? In the guidebook, the picture was captioned as 'Cottage at Bar Harbor, designed by Andrews Jaques and Rantoul". </div>
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I'm resisting further research. I have a book to complete.</div>
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Speaking of Tuxedo Park, after finishing research at the wonderful Walsh History Center at Camden Public Library, I wandered around looking at buildings (I still haven't put the final nail in my Camden selections. (Sssh, don't tell the publisher), and while wandering around town, I spotted this new little shingle style cottage, which reminded me of something...(and yes, that picture was taken yesterday March 23, the 3rd day of Spring, or as we call it up here, 'February II, the Nightmare Continues')</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisIakcamJMTpoY5o2QG6MZqut1D9w2uTvnOuur2T1ULCK4UJsXZdlY1H69ahCtvouahKQfwp3FMSa8iKdG1_6Nyih3CGpKBTi27vIUZXhEyJZQcXNSOQ5bO3voDa9cxUXIBl2SdiXPfLr0/s1600/IMG_1168.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisIakcamJMTpoY5o2QG6MZqut1D9w2uTvnOuur2T1ULCK4UJsXZdlY1H69ahCtvouahKQfwp3FMSa8iKdG1_6Nyih3CGpKBTi27vIUZXhEyJZQcXNSOQ5bO3voDa9cxUXIBl2SdiXPfLr0/s400/IMG_1168.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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But enough about the weather---certainly we've had enough---the reason that the house looked so familiar is that it was clearly inspired by one of the original houses in Tuxedo Park, Bruce Price's Travis Van Buren cottage, below.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpOLB423kcu3nUOi3Tdo12eRKhq-xBTw2f26nWWVLM09dlp7WL3E_0XtIYqJUspEOhSL3fK62LeyyIFBHlNxclzQ8VNw0ZydkzHBCAs5Nh3pWMHrX1-iP3x0qJxBe5pLhEBxeaFvBU443g/s1600/1711.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpOLB423kcu3nUOi3Tdo12eRKhq-xBTw2f26nWWVLM09dlp7WL3E_0XtIYqJUspEOhSL3fK62LeyyIFBHlNxclzQ8VNw0ZydkzHBCAs5Nh3pWMHrX1-iP3x0qJxBe5pLhEBxeaFvBU443g/s400/1711.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-30703603968168429702013-03-06T13:15:00.001-05:002013-03-07T11:56:33.769-05:00HURRY, SPRING<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: justify;">We are embarking on Week III of not particularly cold (for March), but very gray and dreary weather---rain, drizzle, freezing rain, freezing drizzle, dry snow, wet snow, snow mixed with rain and drizzle, rain and drizzle mixed with snow You get the idea. And the mud! Oh the mud! Maine practically depopulates from mid-March to mid-April, and with good reason. The winter won't kill you, but the spring damn well might.</span></div>
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In the interest of public health, I declare this to be Garden Week at the Down East Dilettante, and in denial, will post nothing but pictures of gardens until this ends.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKiKO-zAJZHZWfqMpfpcIzxPSf1aToCgdhD5IRf1hfJryU-LXxKKnd51Ca4hn0ADOUhFpO6gp6Gbvs3c5yezcQ_OlBFeJvE4f4SP67WvjXh9sRZuspoD69hiQq7pOS3DBeDnH1GMvS4ZFw/s1600/IMG_1589.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKiKO-zAJZHZWfqMpfpcIzxPSf1aToCgdhD5IRf1hfJryU-LXxKKnd51Ca4hn0ADOUhFpO6gp6Gbvs3c5yezcQ_OlBFeJvE4f4SP67WvjXh9sRZuspoD69hiQq7pOS3DBeDnH1GMvS4ZFw/s400/IMG_1589.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0k28xz8EJsFBXoie7VWUv16jwUJmUQpzNwmdySIoB8uazUl7WodhS7khwplBK5DBZoBq9OgfERHOKY9_TAolPDfkq5n80ZERQ3W_Xzi2HO1mqIKSWrp7Hn8ZFmjhyphenhyphenTxO94q2FNdpE97FP/s1600/IMG_1610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0k28xz8EJsFBXoie7VWUv16jwUJmUQpzNwmdySIoB8uazUl7WodhS7khwplBK5DBZoBq9OgfERHOKY9_TAolPDfkq5n80ZERQ3W_Xzi2HO1mqIKSWrp7Hn8ZFmjhyphenhyphenTxO94q2FNdpE97FP/s400/IMG_1610.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The <a href="http://thedowneastdilettante.blogspot.com/2010/06/saving-mrs-farrands-plants-asticou.html" target="_blank">Asticou Azeala Garden</a> at Northeast Harbor is one of May's reward for the penances of April </span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqn41Zjma4ulry6RWuBjtBr3Wa4pXGmL-M9Oh8qjCIIEwMf5R-Nph5tUUqoDbUeKCdW8k0VjM6VfMoCG6oO8M73aTo1oj_MEKforf3k9yup8HJWZvu9C_o3JHoZK4aoN25xTMM9K4YiRVQ/s1600/DSCN0716.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqn41Zjma4ulry6RWuBjtBr3Wa4pXGmL-M9Oh8qjCIIEwMf5R-Nph5tUUqoDbUeKCdW8k0VjM6VfMoCG6oO8M73aTo1oj_MEKforf3k9yup8HJWZvu9C_o3JHoZK4aoN25xTMM9K4YiRVQ/s400/DSCN0716.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;">As are the lilacs that cloud the landscape, for an all too-brief week at the end of the month (Damariscotta Mills)</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiofmkSc6zqbThG-Hwe_XNI9o_28mEonxwGU6ObCIRF1uLRfX0nCEPU6Zh4tmGpoMUw-JCuR4CG-m8sOxTueuPhQ8uNuyZUsSN5_zziQX1iB3nKOGDfO11mPoTr4sImY0X7WWAFqVkEhFXI/s1600/DSCN0840.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiofmkSc6zqbThG-Hwe_XNI9o_28mEonxwGU6ObCIRF1uLRfX0nCEPU6Zh4tmGpoMUw-JCuR4CG-m8sOxTueuPhQ8uNuyZUsSN5_zziQX1iB3nKOGDfO11mPoTr4sImY0X7WWAFqVkEhFXI/s400/DSCN0840.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdplJH0ZrPoWg2XiZuZEPstKEFwVcVlldjGhKxiw7V70HnP4zGdoJbVcXf0sCAA0NHR_h9MFTW8N0h77Rs__sgFdPwuuo0JPux_q0Ivs9UDzJdO6MXtRp_QXO78kRLG1jINzvhvUpy2jgw/s1600/DSCN0735.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdplJH0ZrPoWg2XiZuZEPstKEFwVcVlldjGhKxiw7V70HnP4zGdoJbVcXf0sCAA0NHR_h9MFTW8N0h77Rs__sgFdPwuuo0JPux_q0Ivs9UDzJdO6MXtRp_QXO78kRLG1jINzvhvUpy2jgw/s400/DSCN0735.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Roadsides and sidewalks that had been covered in gravel and winter debris only weeks before come into bloom. (top to bottom: Castine, Damariscotta Mills, Wiscasset)</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj07W3UKKbZt0Rbfqtz4XNfaDyCx5F90gyARDos-ZIc-mPJQ7VkbYHbYNSVK4CU0nxrV0LgSE-5ZGuezidTFLRILIq5ZNxF-AUmxJ8wOTGH3mvPRYBwKYW0bu5enDdVmiSSshTbK5ylrpjj/s1600/Garden+6-09+012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj07W3UKKbZt0Rbfqtz4XNfaDyCx5F90gyARDos-ZIc-mPJQ7VkbYHbYNSVK4CU0nxrV0LgSE-5ZGuezidTFLRILIq5ZNxF-AUmxJ8wOTGH3mvPRYBwKYW0bu5enDdVmiSSshTbK5ylrpjj/s400/Garden+6-09+012.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHlW10ArK1mzdpY5kZwwYmxE1W8I1NAWJeZQwazVJ76EUcAhZLurJg4ULeWmeuXGPyePLv4UE4PaPnNvwR1IxmhuiZN2fEjlmeb_crzJesVchQjgqVqvzZHuSKO44bDI67Hr6WKTq8baBL/s1600/Garden+photos+for+Brad+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHlW10ArK1mzdpY5kZwwYmxE1W8I1NAWJeZQwazVJ76EUcAhZLurJg4ULeWmeuXGPyePLv4UE4PaPnNvwR1IxmhuiZN2fEjlmeb_crzJesVchQjgqVqvzZHuSKO44bDI67Hr6WKTq8baBL/s400/Garden+photos+for+Brad+005.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: small;">And then as if Winter had never happened, things start to get really serious in June, as with the iris and peonies here in my friend Ellen's garden</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Wild roses beside my back drive, ephemeral & sweet, climbing six feet through the hedgerow</span></td></tr>
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And summer goes on, and suddenly, almost without noticing the change, what looked like this in June<br />
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Looks like this by August (Thuya Gardens, Northeast Harbor, two views of central allee toward pool)<br />
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For a few weeks, the Maine climate is as conducive to gardening as any in the world. Here, a path in the Beatrix Farrand designed garden on the Rockefeller estate at Seal Harbor. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hawk-weed by the side of the road (Castine)</td></tr>
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The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-56188185822866576272013-02-28T08:59:00.001-05:002013-02-28T12:10:54.989-05:00INTERMISSION: "IN LIKE A LION.."<br />
Tomorrow is the first day of March. <br />
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In case any of our far flung readers wonder why Maine is more popular as a summer destination than winter, we bring you this public service announcement:<br />
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Three weeks from today is the first day of Spring. Riiiight.<br />
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<br />The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4185045903146972312.post-53320862621044428362013-02-27T20:42:00.002-05:002013-02-27T20:42:23.588-05:00REAL ESTATEThat darn Dilettante has been publishing again. For my latest piece, about a wonderful mid-century house for sale, in a drop-dead location, please click <b><a href="http://www.portlandmonthly.com/portmag/2013/02/mid-century-marvel/" target="_blank">HERE</a>. </b>(Click on pdf. link for full article). For vintage photos of the house, and the tale of when I was in the soup, click <b><a href="http://thedowneastdilettante.blogspot.com/2010/02/gropius-down-east.html" target="_blank">HERE</a></b><br />
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<br />The Down East Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13950254669198151850noreply@blogger.com3