VARIATIONS ON A THEME: ROUNDING A CORNER

From early 19th century America, when builders and designers were almost incapable of designing an ugly building, a little riff on how design ideas traveled, in this case from the urban centers to the little seaport of Portsmouth New Hampshire.  I sometimes just enjoy pondering these things out loud--and find that even 200 years ago in Federalist America, with travel primitive and distances remote, the degrees of separation rarely added up to six.

Octagon House in Washington, not really an octagon, designed for John Tayloe by William Thornton, architect of the Capitol and constructed 1798-1800.  This was something new in American domestic architecture when first completed.  When the White House was burned in the War of 1812, it was to this house that James & Dolley Madison retreated.  It is now a museum operated by the American Institute of Architects, whose headquarters behind it so sadly demonstrates how many lessons have been forgotten.

Rear Facade of Octagon House, which originally overlooked a brick stable building far more elegant that the AIA

The Thomas Haven house, Portsmouth New Hampsire, built in 1813 on  the corner of  Middle St. & Richards Avenue in  Porsmouth, New Hampshire.  It was later owned by Admiral George Washington Storer, who as a five month old baby had sat in George Washington's lap in 1783.  Apparently the designer, whose name is lost to history, was familiar with  Octagon house.  Storer's daughter Mabel married the grandson of Stephan Decatur, a hero of the War of 1812, whose Washington house was designed by Benjamin Latrobe.  Sadly the Haven house was long ago demolished by another Storer daughter in favor of a ponderous Second Empire mansion.

The old Custom House, built 1813 on the corner of  Penhallow and Daniel Streets in Portsmouth, a building delicate and provincial in its details, and of almost infinite charm 

The Samuel Larkin house, Portsmouth NH, begun in 1815 nearly across the street from the Haven house, architect unknown.  Mr. Larkin was an auctioneer who had greatly enhanced his fortune on commissions from the sale of booty seized by privateers during the War of 1812.  By 1829, reverses caused him to leave this house for his original smaller frame house next door.  The design is a refinement of the Burd mansion in Philadelphia

The Burd Mansion, on Chestnut St. in Philadelphia is thought to have inspired the Larkin house in Portsmouth.  It was designed in 1801 by Benjamin Latrobe.  This daguerreotype by Frederic deBourg Richards in the collection of the Library  Company of Philadelphia, bears this description: "Mansion of Joseph Sims, Esq. On Southwest corner of Chestnut and Ninth street-the grounds extending to George, now Sansom street, on which latter it has a frontage, with stables, equal to that on Chestnut Street. After the failure in business of Mr. Sims, it was occupied for many years, until his decease, by Mr. Sims' son-in-law, and family, Edward P. Burd, Esq. Mrs. Burd, his widow, still resides there."  The Burd mansion is long lost.

In 1803, Thomas Jefferson appointed Latrobe, America's first professional architect, as Surveyor of Public Buildings in the United States.  As such, he took over the construction and design of the Capitol, with some irritation at being instructed by Jefferson to follow the designs made by William Thornton, which he found faulty.  Despite their aesthetic and engineering differences on the Capitol, Thornton's rear elevation at Octagon House and the facade of the Burd house have more than a whiff of common themes.

If It Ain't Broke, Don't Fix It, # 3: When Bad Things Happen to Nice Buildings

 The Pierce Mansion in the late 19th century, with Victorian Porch

The Pierce Mansion on Middle Street in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, is one of the great Federal houses of New England, an American interpretation of Adam motifs.   Built in 1799 by John Pierce, the house remained in the hands of his descendants until the 1950s.  The design is sometimes attributed to Charles Bulfinch, and indeed is nearly identical to his now demolished Appleton house in Boston, and has details virtually identical with those on his Ezekial Hersey Derby house in Salem.

In a 1930's colorized postcard

The house was situated at the head of a curve in the street, a location meant to impress . The over scaled cupola gave an almost monumental appearance to the otherwise delicately detailed house, and the attenuated neo-classical detail of the house signaled a new direction in design from the Georgian and Rococo that had dominated Portsmouth architecture for the previous half century.  Here is seen the optimism  and prosperity of the New Republic.

One entered a wide hall with delicately carved woodwork in the 'punch and gouge' characteristic of Federal work.  To the left was an elliptical staircase flanked by arched openings, with delicately reeded woodwork giving delicate life to the composition.  In the curve of the staircase sat one of the extraordinary pieces of furniture to survive from the era, a curved shield back Hepplewhite settee, built to sit against the curved wall of the stairwell.  So extraordinary was the settee in the canon of early American furniture, that it was pictured on the cover of the very first issue of The Magazine Antiques in 1922.

 

 Two views of the stair, by Samuel Chamberlain, from Portsmouth, A Camera Impression (Hastings House, 1940)

In the 1950's, the house was occupied by Mrs Winslow Pierce.  Her son, the next heir, was uninterested and unwilling to take on the house.  The curved settee was sold to Henry Francis DuPont, and taken to Winterthur, where it can still be seen in a niche built for it in an upper hall, stripped of its original context.

The Pierce House in the 1960's, red and white, and more than a little blue.

The house was placed on the market, and purchased by the Baptist Church next door for use as meeting space and vestry.  Although their intentions have not been bad per se, they have chipped slowly away at the integrity of house and setting, and stirring though the house is, it is also sad making.  The great curving fence that embraced the facade and tied the house to the street, was swept away.  The new church, designed in a flat, well meaning 'colonial' style was joined to the house by a wing, badly scaled.  The house was painted red and white to 'blend' with the red brick and white trim of the church.  The front walk was rerouted to a divided path that split the difference between the connector door and the main door, removing the front door's direct axial contact with the street.  It is very awkward looking, and more than a little sad.  The rear grounds were leveled and paved for a large parking lot.  The house became white again, but only by dint of the addition of vinyl siding.  Plastic shutters, screwed to the sides of the windows, replaced the original working shutters.  (NOTE:  For more on the Dilettante's stand on plastic shutters, read here)  Now, where was I?  Oh yes. Pierce mansion.  The balustrade was next.  A new balustrade on the roof is thinly made and constructed in relation to the old one, further destroying the scale.

Personal Note:  Our friend Gregory, a man of both formidable taste and purse, and his wife then summered at nearby Kittery Point.  He was taken by relatives to visit Mrs. Pierce, who it was understood, wished to sell the set of Chinese Chippendale chairs in the drawing room, one of the rare American sets in this style., originally owned by the brother of New Hampsire's last Royal Governor.  The motivation for the sale was that the disinterested son desired money for a new pick-up.  The chairs went later with Gregory to his  summer home on Coolidge Point in Manchester Massachusetts.  A few years later, Gregory hired the Boston architect W.W. Brewster to build a brick house on the estate.  Mr. Brewster was at the time also involved in the restoration of Gore Place in Waltham, and persuaded Gregory to donate them to Gore Place, where they can still be seen, in another of New England's great Federal Houses.

Just for fun:  A tiny rendition of the Pierce hall by Mrs. James Ward Thorne, part of her famous collection of miniature rooms at the Art Institute of Chicago.

Favorite Room, Favorite Wallpaper

One of the handsomest 18th century houses in Portsmouth, a town rich in handsome 18th century houses, is the Moffatt-Ladd house, built by Captain John Moffatt in 1763, and acquired from his descendants by the  Society of Colonial Dames, who have maintained and displayed it well ever since.

Moffatt built it on a rise across the street from his wharves on the Piscataqua River.    The mansion's riches are many---superb family portraits by Blackburn, a rare and gorgeous set of Chinese Chippendale furniture, superb woodwork, and an intact 19th century terraced garden running uphill from the drawing room at the rear.

But, the star of the house is its entrance hall, one of the grandest to survive from colonial New England.  Rather than running through the center of the house in usual 18th century fashion, it occupies more than 1/4 of the first floor, allowing for an exceptionally broad two-run staircase, with superb carved details and a great arched window on the landing.  In the early 19th century, a scenic wallpaper, probably Dufour, depicting the Bay of Naples in grisaille was added.  The effect is tremendous, the harmony between the Georgian woodwork and the sweeping classical panoramic wallpaper unexpectedly fine.

The room has been famous since the first wave of interest in things Colonial hit.  It was photographed by E.E. Soderholtz for his pioneering book of early photos of New England houses, it was painted by Walter Gay, the expatriate artist better know for his associations with Edith Wharton and Ogden Codman, and practically any book of early American architecture includes an image.   And so it should be, for it is a very beautiful room, with its shuttered side door leading to the counting house in the garden.

Curatorial changes have been made over the years.  While the interpretation of the interiors at Moffatt-Ladd is first rate, one feels a bit sad that the beautiful Colza lantern was removed, and I confess to being a bit sorry that the arts & crafts Stickley rugs, one of my favorite rug designs, in black and tan, a perfect complement to the paper, had to be removed, replaced by an oriental rug probably not a bit more authentic.

All this is minor aesthetic carping however.  If you're in New England next summer, go see the room.

Smalt II

The post about the smalt room at the Warner House in Portsmouth has gotten so much email response that I am posting a couple more photographs for your enjoyment.

Mark Drew applying smalt to wet paint in the Parlor Chamber of the Warner House, using a glitter gun (photograph from The Warner House, a Rich & Colorful History,  edited by Joyce Geary Volk).

The Parlor Chamber (Warner House, a Rich & Colorful History, photograph by Sandy Agrafiotis)

Warner House, Portsmouth, NH, built 1718

Favorite Rooms: Smalt

Yes, you read correctly.  Smalt.  Read on.

 Warner House (Beaupre Photo, Historic Portsmouth Website)

One of my favorite  houses is the McPhaedris-Warner house in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, built by a merchant-privateer in 1718, and one of the earliest brick houses in New England.  A noble Georgian presence near the harbor, it has all the appearance of a fine townhouse in a small English city, and was the inspiration for many a good brick colonial revival house in the suburbs through the early 20th century.  Inside are handsome rooms, high and richly paneled.  The house remained in the hands of McPhaedris's descendants until the early 20th century, when the last of the family, Evelyn Sherburne, deeded the house and extraordinary contents to the Warner House Association, which has maintained it ever since.  The interiors have that romantic, rich flavor that only the accumulation of generations can give.  The hall has crude and enigmatic murals, the earliest in America to survive, with life size Native American chieftains flanking the huge arched window on the stair landing.  The dining room has interesting graining and marbleizing on the paneling.

The Warner House Association have been conscientious stewards of the property, maintaining it well.  In recent years, given the rich primary materials available, the curator, Joyce Geary Volk, clearly  a person both erudite and imaginative,  has restored different rooms to reflect varying periods of occupancy.  The drawing room is particularly evocative, restored to its Colonial Revival/ late Victorian appearance as Miss Sherburne had it.

But we'll return to all that in a future post.  Today's post is about smalt.  If anybody knows what smalt is, please raise your hand, but don't tell the others.  I didn't know smalt from s'mores until I saw this room. Continue reading.

An essential component of restoring an historic room is a chemical paint analysis, in which layers of paint are studied and broken down under a microscope to determine pigments used, to arrive at the colors for the desired period.  One of the early examples of this was the dining room at Mt. Vernon a couple of decades back, where it was found that verdigris in the pigment indicated an almost surreal shade of green originally covered the walls.

When a routine analysis was undertaken for the Parlor Chamber upstairs, a great surprise was in store.  One of the earliest layers of pigment was found to contain smalt.  For those who did not raise their hands, Smalt is ground cobalt blue glass.  It is most typically used in sign painting, to create the rough background surface one sees in older signs.  At the Warner house, the smalt was found to be of a particularly fine grain.  Although there were isolated instances of smalt being used for highlighting details of interior woodwork in England, this was the first time that researchers had encountered it in America, and the first time in an entire room.

The Parlor Chamber (photograph by Geoffrey Gross from Antiques & Fine Art)

With great excitement, the decision was made to restore the room to this appearance, and the hunt was on.  First, a smalt of the proper consistency had to be found.  Then, the painters had to find a way to properly adhere it to the paint.  A smalt-out was held, with many techniques tried.  The winner was----are you ready for this (pay attention, Martha Stewart)--- A glitter gun.  Another photo of the room may be found on Flickr

I recently visited the Warner house for the first time in years.  The tour was wonderful, given by an actress of talent playing Miss Sherburne, taking one through 'her' house and its history---lively, and not at all as corny as it sounds.  A giant improvement it is over the usual dry house tour given by well intentioned docents reading off long facts..

As we went up the stairs, and into this beautifully proportioned room, richly paneled, with its large deep windows of wavy glass looking out to the Portsmouth Harbor, I stopped breathing for a second.  It was like nothing I'd ever seen, and photographs cannot capture the ethereal effect; it has to be experienced  to fully appreciate it. The paneling had a low sort of luminescence, enhanced by the light from the river.  The color is difficult to pin down, sort of taupe/violet/mauve from the combination of a blueish green base shot with the cobalt smalt.  The already extraordinary effect was heightened by the reproduction of the original bed and curtain fabric, in a rich emerald green brocade.  It must be extraordinary by candlelight. The surprising combination of these colors and textures, with rich old San Domingo mahogany furniture, has to be seen to be believed.  Sometimes one sees something that challenges pre-conceived notions, and this is one of those instances.

Note to readers: Although this puts to shame  the gaudy and expensive paint effects various Park Avenue acquaintances have been allowing their decorators to smear over their walls for lo these many years, you should not try this at home.  Really, you shouldn't.  Unless of course, you have gorgeous 18th century paneled rooms that garner light from nearby water....