4.10.11

SITTIN' ON THE DOCK OF THE BAY


Conversation up here at the beginning of the summer centered on real estate.   Indian Head, a large and not particularly attractive new-ish house in Northeast Harbor, sold for $12,500,000, the first time a residential property in Maine sold for over $10,000,000 (not that many owners and realtors haven't tried to hit that mark over the last decade).  Hardly Hamptons prices, but enough to give hope to many whose expensive properties had been languishing on the market.  As the summer ended, conversation had turned to another sort of real estate. private docks.

Indian Head, Northeast Harbor (Landvest listing photo)
Docks have always been a feature of the waterfront here---first in the 18th and 19th centuries, as transportation, fishing, and trading hubs.  By the end of the 19th century, private docks became prevalent, as the shoreline was increasingly colonized by summer folk, and the ocean and harbors became pleasure grounds.  As to real estate prices, conventional wisdom is that a less expensive, but no less grand, property near Indian Head has failed to sell for lack of a dock.

For many years, one thought very little one way or the other about docks.  Utilitarian and often picturesque, they seemed a natural part of the landscape.  In recent years, as environmental concerns have become paramount, and the shoreline ever more divided and built upon, and planning regulations fortunately ever more stringent, they have become a subject of controversy, and even rancor, pitting neighbor against neighbor.  The nadir was reached a few weeks ago when our local paper published a long letter by a writer publicly and nastily reacting to his new neighbor's proposed 300 foot dock on a stretch of shore that does not have particularly deep anchorage, and where there traditionally have not been piers.

After being at several parties around the county where these discussions had come up----every town around here seems to have its newly arrived gazillionaire who wants to extend his property far into the ocean itself, with resultant backlash, I started thinking about a few grand docks from the past, built in a simpler era when such a structure was considered an ornament to an estate.

The dock at Borderland at High Tide


And at low tide.  Walking up the pier are H.B. Slaven's grandaughter, Orillia, and her friend Helen Chapman, not incidentally later to become the Dilettante's grandmother
The first dock was built around 1903 by H.B. Slaven on 'Borderland, on the eastern shore of our town.   Slaven, a successful pharmacist in San Francisco, had joined his brother Moses in the construction business, and together they invented a dredging machine that was essential in the building of the Panama Canal.  After retiring from that business at the end of the 1880's, he purchased and operated the Chase Granite company, whose quarries occupied over a mile of shorefront.   By the early 20th century, concrete was replacing granite as a construction material, and Slaven began developing the property as a summer estate, with extensive outbuildings and services.  Although  there existed a long granite wharf, extending far into the bay, for the quarries, Slaven had a wooden pier with pavilion constructed.

Borderland from the air. At the upper right can be seen the huge stone pier that was loading dock for the granite quarries
The hall fireplace and granite steps of Borderland were quarried and cut on the estate

As for Borderland itself, Slaven died in 1904, the year after construction, and it was eventually inherited by his daughter Nila, who chose to live in a smaller house on the property, and rented it to a roster of tenants of strong literary leanings---first E.B. White in the 1930's, before he bought his farm in neighboring Brooklin, then A.J. Cronin, who wrote Keys to the Kingdom there in the 1940's.  The main house was razed in the 1960's.


On the other side of town, W.P. Palmer, president of the American Steel & Wire Company of Cleveland, later absorbed by U.S. Steel, built a dock with a large Adirondack style gazebo, one of several such structures on his estate.
1910 renderings by John Calvin Stevens of proposed house for William P. Palmer (Courtesy Maine State Historic Preservation Commission)
The cottage that Palmer actually built, 1921
Palmer originally had John Calvin Stevens design a Colonial Revival cottage for the property in 1910, but did not actually build a main house for the estate until 1921.  The Stevens design was abandoned in favor of a Tudor design, by an architect whose name has been lost with time.  That house was demolished in the early 1950's.

The dock at Hauterive, the Miles Carpenter estate at Bar Harbor (photograph by E.E. Soderholtz, Country Life in America, August 1911)
And over in fashionable Bar Harbor, Mrs. Miles Carpenter, a stylish New York socialite, purchased an estate overlooking Frenchman's Bay, and promptly had the Boston firm of Andrews, Jaques, & Rantoul enlarge it and lay out extensive gardens as a background for entertaining.  An elaborate seawall was built as part of the garden scheme.  at each end of the wall was an opening.  At the south end, the opening gave access to the dock, which was formed an extension of the garden axes, from the croquet lawn, down steps through the sunken garden, to a lower terrace, and through a pair of gates whose posts were cast in Persian style by E.E. Soderholtz .  At the end of the long pier was an elegant pavilion in French Medieval style.

The seawall at Hauterive, as seen from the dock (photograph by E.E. Soderholtz, Country Life in America, August 1911)

The dock at Hauterive overwhelmed the more modest pier of the immediate neighbor to the south,  E.T. Stotesbury's Wingwood House (Town & Country, August 1933)
Hauterive was inherited by Mrs. Carpenter's daughter, Agnes Miles Carpenter, who continued her mother's stylish ways (many of her Paris gowns survive in the Costume institute at the Metropolitan Museum)--she remodeled the gardens (future post), and had society photographer Baron deMeyer redecorate the dining room in sleek red lacquered moderne style in the 1930's, a stark contrast to her mother's Louis XVI drawing room across the hall, furnished a generation earlier by Lord Duveen. 

The MVN Bluenose and its pier, as seen from the remains of the terrace at Hauterive, in startling contrast to the view above, just 50 years before. (1960's postcard view by Paul  Knaute)
 In 1953, despite protests from the Miss Carpenter and other neighbors, including Lady Harry Oakes to the immediate south, the abandoned Stotesbury cottage was purchased by the Canadian National Railroad as site for a new terminal for its Bluenose Ferry service to Nova Scotia. The view from Miss Carpenter's terrace, once so peaceful with her elegant dock, was never the same.

After Miss Carpenter's death in the early 60's, Hauterive itself was demolished.  For many years after, the grounds were kept in good condition, and the iron gates to the pier remained.   In recent years the property has become a Holiday Inn (where the Obama family stayed on their visit to Maine last year), the grounds are in ruins, and returning ghosts would be hard put to find their way to the long vanished dock.


5.9.11

TEAR DOWNS HAVE ALWAYS BEEN AMONG US


Much as we like (or dislike) to think that the tear down phenomenon---someone buys a perfectly nice house, demolishes it, and puts up something larger, and usually less lovely---- is an invention of the last two decades, a result of greed and pretension,  it actually has ever been thus, particularly in times of prosperity.

I thought of it today as I came across these photos of a pleasant small summer cottage on a point of land near our village.   Relatively small, it is a pleasant mansard roof shingled cottage built in 1886, typical of many built for the professional classes up and down the New England Coast.  The owner was Professor Junius  Hill, head of the music department at Wellesley College.  He was part of a small music colony that sprang up around the neighborhood in the late 19th century, and that included composer Horatio Parker, head of the music department at Yale, world famed violinist Franz Kneisel, considered the father of the modern string quartet, music critic Henry Krehbiel, pianist Bertha Tapper, and around the corner, Effie Kline, owner/manager of the Boston Ideal Opera Company.  


The name of Prof. Hill's architect is lost in time, but it seems likely that he had plans drawn up by one or another of the good architects practicing around Boston at the time.  In the mid 1890's, the Hills remodeled their cottage, adding an octagonal tower in the most modern shingle style. 


I've always been fascinated by this tower.  A much more sophisticated work than the original house, it is architecture of a high order---note particularly the rear elevation with its secondary tower for the upper flight of the staircase, and the smooth balance of horizontal and vertical design elements.  The tower's suavity and quality of detail relate closely to work being done in the area, including three here in town,  at about the same time by William Ralph Emerson, the Boston architect credited with originating the shingle style. 


A second possible attribution, though I'm sticking with Emerson, was George Clough, the 'Official City Architect of Boston', who was born here, and maintained a summer practice that include several summer cottages and renovations.  But, frankly, his work just isn't usually as good as this tower.



I'm sorry I never got to see this cottage, but I was born 40 plus years too late.   As our town's reputation as a summer colony grew, a wealthier crowd began moving in, old cottages were enlarged, and new cottages tended to be built on a larger scale.   In 1912, the Hill cottage and the neighboring Rose cottage, a hip roof affair of no particular distinction, were both purchased Coburn Haskell.   Haskell was married to a daughter of one of the Hanna brothers, the industrialists who dominated Cleveland business in the gilded age.   Haskell himself was the inventor and with B.F. Goodrich president Bertam Work, manufacturer of the modern golf ball.



The Haskells tore down the Hill and Rose (above) cottages, erected an enormous stone and shingle cottage on the site, designed by a Cleveland architect named Howe, completed in 1913.  With sixteen bedrooms, and 10 bathrooms piped for both fresh and salt water, the house was one of the largest in town, and to this day dominates the entrance to the Harbor.  However expensively constructed, it is an uncomfortable design visually, with a large roof whose wide overhanging eaves are unconvincingly supported by anemic brackets below. 


So, you see class, tear downs are nothing new...

 For the story of a more recent tear down, and its appalling replacement, click HERE

PS:  Since originally posting this, I realize from several of the comments that I didn't make clear that actually I don't find integration of the pleasant small cottage and the stylish tower particularly good---but that nevertheless, I like the tower itself very much (as well as the cottage)

21.8.11

THREE MINUTES OF SUMMER

Life has been uphill this summer----tightly scheduled, hot and muggy, and played out against an unenthusiastic economy.   However, one occasionally steals a moment here or there---an hour spent with cousins too seldom seen, mussels with bright amusing friends, likewise too seldom seen (have I remembered to send a thank-you note?  Is September too late?).   This weekend, was especially crowded with people and events, but one was able to steal a happy hour from packing for an Antiques show to visit with a cousin too seldom seen, and then, in the evening, dinner with friends also too seldom seen, up for the week.

I'll soon be back to posting about antiques, architecture and the usual subjects, honest, and if DPC is still speaking to me, I'll finish four pieces I've been working on for him.   In the meantime, three of the nicer minutes of my weekend---for which I had to pay by working Sunday to catch up.  No fun goes unpunished up in the Puritan air of eastern Maine: 

  Here is the Dilettante having sunset swim with friends before dinner, a fog bank rolling in  to take off the heat of the day---Thanks Wendell, dinner was delicious!


And here is the Dilettante having a glass of wine with another friend, admiring her lovely late summer garden and watching boats go by, after both of us spent a twelve hour day working at an Antiques show for benefit of a museum whose boards both sit on.  The shadows are growing longer....


Back soon, with the usual tales.  In the meantime, a preview of things on my mind:


A Lost Garden

Fletcher Steele Down East

A grand house that saw many lives

 Chicago spends the summer Down East

Greater Down Town Head Tide, Maine

Lord Kavanaugh's Mills

 Down East Real Estate Highs & Woes

The Genius of Place

Columns along the Kennebec

 Columns beside the Golf Course---A Temple for the Arts Down East


Republicans are not always ungrateful

A Federal Case

Elsie Does Regency

Looking at Color Theory

When the Dilettante went green

An artisan's bungalow
Rich Down East Dilettantes & their personal museums
(Not to be confused with poor Down East Dilettantes & their personal blogs)

Mr. Rockefeller & Mr. Atterbury channel Hansel & Gretel

See you soon.


15.8.11

BACK TO THE FUTURE

I was flipping though the September 1922 issue of Town & Country---ever up on current affairs, the Dilettante---when this demure debutante caught my attention.  Understated to the point of plain, who would guess she would one day advise mothers to wash their children's hair in dead champagne, let alone commission for herself a garden in Hell?

2.8.11

PINK PALACES

The Dilettante is completely flattened by projects at the moment, leaving  no time to blog, and I probably miss all of you more than you miss me, as I thrive on feedback (as the guy said, I don't care what you say about me as long as you say something).  I am happy to report, however, that so far this summer there have been no exploding cars, although the heat, with barely any rain, has been almost unbearable, reducing the lawn to dust, and the Dilettante to a sweaty puddle (am I supposed to say 'sweat'?  It seems so non-u).

Pictured below is a house in Castine, Maine, designed by fashionable architect William Lawrence Bottomley for Miss E.K. Branch,  a banking heiress from Richmond Virginia,  related to writers James Branch Cabell and Ellen Glasgow (who herself summered in Castine).  For my article about this fascinating house, in the current of issue of Portland Monthly, please click HERE.



There have been a few interesting developments in Dilettante Land.  Bloomberg News wanted to take my picture for an article in which I'll be quoted, but the photographer didn't show up.   Guess he was busy photographing the Mayor's new house in Southampton.  Just as well.  One is not completely fond of being photographed.

 In addition,  I'll be back soon with a major announcement (fingers crossed), or at least some interesting gossip.   Now, if you'll excuse me, it's hot, it's nearly 5:00 PM, and I know there's a martini with my name on it somewhere.  Sidekick?

8.7.11

OLMSTED AND A GATE

This gate is a footnote in landscape history.  Subtle, deceptively simple, it is only as one examines it that one realizes how good it really is.  It is the main entrance to "Point d'Acadie," the long demolished George Vanderbilt estate at Bar Harbor.  Like all of his family, Vanderbilt was an inveterate builder, and in 1889, even as he was acquring the 146,000 acres of North Carolina that would become the Biltmore estate, he had Frederick Law Olmsted at work landscaping this smaller (by Vanderbilt standards) project at Bar Harbor.  Olmsted's work at "Point d'Acadie," a prelude to his final great work at Biltmore, would include new roads, carefully composed clearing and tree plantings, a new stone terrace and stairs that would enhance the transition of the large shingled house to the landscape, and the damming of a small cove to be used as a naturalistic swimming pool, Bar Harbor's first, complete with rustic Adirondack style cabanas.  All this even as George Vanderbilt was embarking on the largest private building project of the era at Biltmore.  The site of "Point d'Acadie," which Vanderbilt had purchased for the then large sum of $200,000 (Approximately $7,000,000 in today's dollars) is a spectacular little Peninsula jutting into Frenchman's Bay, views of water and mountains on all sides.  


Later highway construction has partially submerged the gate, but it is nevertheless a classic example of Olmsted's approach to designed elements in the landscape, subtle, with materials and shapes carefully considered in relation to the landscape.  The sweep is broad and gentle, the granite coping carefully rounded and shaped.  It is almost in rebuke to the massive Beaux Arts gate of Vanderbilt's  neighbor, railroad tycoon John Stewart Kennedy of "Kenarden Lodge" (below).


 The driveways at "Point d'Acadie," carefully constructed to Olmsted's exacting specifications, although today not maintained to the manicured, raked daily, standards of the Vanderbilt era, have rarely needed major work since.  


The terraces of "Point d'Acadie" with their broad shallow stairs to the lawns, with stonework and coping matching that of the gate, were similar to other examples by Olmsted, and typify his approach to integrating house and landscape.  The terraces survived for many years after demolition of the house---I regret never having photographed them.


After the house was demolished, the lawns, seen above in the 1920's looking across to the Kennedy estate on the next point, were left to meadow, which probably would have pleased Olmstead, and the effect of nature, as enhanced by Olmsted, was gorgeous. 


Vanderbilt's naturalistic swimming pool started something of a trend at Bar Harbor, and several other estates featured them.  Above is are early spring views from the ruined cove side pool (nature reclaims her own) at "Old Farm," the George Dorr estate, looking across to "Point d'Acadie."  

In recent years a new house was built on the "Point d'Acadie" site, which is private property.  Old Farm is now part of Acadia National Park, which was founded by Dorr.