Of Admirable Art and Resplendent Rooms in DC

The rain held off for a few hours on Saturday, and with a metal grey overcast sky hanging low and threatening a deluge at any moment I drove down to DC to meet Nancy. We were touring the Dupont Kalorama district where 4 houses were opening their doors for free this weekend. We armed ourselves with coffee and then set off for the Philips Collection.

The building was beautiful, red brick with shields carved into the walls and soft green window frames. Inside was a different story, stark austere walls with minimum architectural decoration. We wandered from room to room filled with contemporary art, none of which really impressed us, but then we suddenly entered the room of masters. In front of us were paintings from Renoir, Van Gogh, Picasso and Monet, among others. I was ecstatic that we could examine these works of art so intimately and took a keen interest in the oils. This was artwork, not the pictures of squares within squares, or blobs of paint that depicted no imagery. Van Gogh's The Large Plane Trees was scrutinized by me intensely. I have been balking at starting to use oil paints and now became engrossed in studying the brush strokes in this painting, the thickness, blending and direction that the paint was laid onto the canvas. The Luncheon of the Boating Party by Renoir took pride of place on one wall with people sitting or standing to quietly admire it. I was amazed at the details, lighting and vivid colors used, which were incredible to view at such close quarters rather than in a photo. We spent most of our time in this gallery enjoying these beautiful paintings and little in the rest of the building that we were allowed to roam around. It was all too twenty-first century for us, neither of us fans of the modern look.
The next stop was Anderson House which is the headquarters of The Society of the Cincinnati, an organization devoted to those who secured the independence of the U.S.

The building was huge and impressive from the outside, with tall columns towering above us and gigantic Gothic lamps hanging overhead. Inside was absolutely gorgeous, I could have spent all day in here admiring everything. The house was a showcase for its owners' belongings picked up from their travels around the world. Larz Anderson was an American diplomat and his wife, Isabel was a benefactress and author of children's books. My neck ached from craning to look up and around at the tall ceilings, decorated intricately with paper mache moldings and gilt paint. Massive marble columns were smooth and pleasantly cool to the touch, marble onthefloor beneath us and even in some ofthe door frames. In every corner and along every wall were the couple's collections, no rhyme or reason to the compilations, just beautiful pieces they had accumulated and wanted to show everyone. I was in my element walking around this building, each room so different and a joy to behold. This is the first home in America that has made me think of the English historical homes I used to love visiting. I read later that the decorations had been largely influenced by English and Italian craftsmen. The wooden pews we saw on first entering had caught my eye, they looked very European. The docent thought they came from the eleventh century. He told us that monks used to spend long hours praying or meditating, which had to be done standing up. The wooden seats would lift behind them and the carvings on each side had downward curves so that the monks could drape their arms over and carry their weight on the wood. The website later told me these were Italian choir stalls. We would hear different explanations from the docents that rarely matched the website, and I always preferred the docent tales.

The huge ballroom was used for lavish parties and functions, the Anderson loved to entertain.

What I wouldn't have given to have attended a banquet in this room. Exquisite tapestries covered the walls, large perfect folds of heavy fabric curtained the windows. The craftsmanship in the floors, ceilings, in fact every part of the interior was beautiful, and even overwhelming in its perfect good taste. Throughout this house I didn't see one ornament or wall or fabric that I thought was tacky or too ostentatious. Everything had been so thoughtfully laid out and decorated that you were simply led from one room to another, pulled by the gorgeous visions ahead that kept enticing you to move forward. I actually instantly disliked one of the docents for referencing some of the collections as 'tchotchkes', a word I loved when I first heard it many years ago, but today thought of as offensive when used in this house. The doorway to the dining room was built at an angle so as guests entered from the hallway they would be looking directly at the wonderful table, laden with the best glass and china with glowing candles. The guests would also see the large portrait of Isabel on the far wall first before they turned their eyes to the portrait of Larz in the other corner.

Halfway up the stairs is this monumental canvas, depicting the 1424 procession of the newly elected doge of Venice, Francesco Foscari, and his wife, the dogaressa Marina, to the ducal palace.

The long hallway from the dining room leading to the drawing rooms, the French drawing room above looking into the English drawing room. I studied that wooden parquet floor,it was perfect, not one slat of wood out of place.

 

The French drawing room, again beautifully decorated with stunning gilt flourishes on the walls and ceilings, huge gold mirrors and tapestry chairs, the whole room in hues of golds and creams.

 

I was a little surprised with the English drawing room, the only room which I didn't think was as extravagant as all the others. But it had a pleasant calmness about it, looking out onto a small garden. A huge (and the only garish piece in the house) Tiffany gilded clock sat on a mantle piece but my eye was caught by two horse ornaments on another shelf, two awards given to Isabel for her book publications. The one above was for The Great Sea Horse. They each depicted one of the main characters from the book and had a quote on the front. Note the horse has webbed hooves. Made of brass, apparently she received quite a few and would give them to friends and relatives. This is what the docent told me but later on the website I read that Larz had commissioned it as a Christmas present for Isabel. Again, I liked the docent's story better. I had to touch this one and was promptly but kindly berated. It really was very difficult for me to walk about this glorious house and not be allowed to stroke or touch anything. I was like a kid in a toy shop, I wanted to pick everything up and inspect it. But we were allowed to photograph everything and I wished I'd brought the Sony along, I had thought professional cameras would not be allowed, and my little Canon isn't so imposing.

A last look up the East Stairs before I very reluctantly left. We had met up with Jason and were now walking to the Woodrow Wilson House.

This was the home of the 28th president after he left office. His last public speech was held on the front balcony in 1921, 6 years after the house was built as a gift from Woodrow to his wife, Edith.

There weren't as many rooms open as at the Anderson House and obviously the building was smaller. After coming from that magnificent mansion I had to fight disappointment in not seeing the same elegance and finery but after a while I started to appreciate the coziness of this smaller family home. I was particularly taken with a beautiful chandelier and a pretty window that Jason pointed out, through a doorway that we weren't allowed through, of a zinc kitchen sink with net curtains and a trailing plant that reminded me of my English homes.

The best room in this house was the kitchen, filled with utensils and food packets from the 1920's. Once again I got a telling off because I couldn't stop myself from having a go with an old egg whisk. It was on a table with some other gadgets which I thought we were allowed to try out. It did whisk beautifully, a lovely smooth whirring action, so it was worth the reprimand.
The last house that was open to us on Saturday was Dumbarton House, but since we'd all visited that previously, we decided it was high time to find a belated lunch, so a short time later we were all sitting down and ravenously chowing down on a superb 'Bacon Me Crazy' pizza, with bacon,fried eggs and sun dried tomatoes. Washed down with some very fine craft ales, it was an outstanding end to a most enjoyable house tour. And no rain!