For our twenty-third wedding anniversary, we took a day trip to Newport and enjoyed a tour of The Elms. Nerds? Yes. Nerds. The Elms is not the grandest of Newport’s Gilded Age “summer cottages” (mansions), that would be the Vanderbilts lavish Breakers, but it is still pretty grand. It is the third largest of the Newport mansions with forty-eight rooms some of which, like the dining room, were designed around enormous pieces of art. Anyone can have a gold-encrusted piano. The Elms had an underground rail tunnel designed to bring in coal from a nearby station without anyone having to see or hear it. And, you know, the piano.
PemberleyThe Elms, modeled after the Château d’Asnières (c.1752) in Asnières-sur-Seine, France, was designed by Horace Trumbauer for Edward Julius Berwind. If you, like Edward, had stupid amounts of new money and wanted to impress, Horace Trumbauer was THE Gilded Age architect for you. He designed two other Newport “summer cottages”—Clarendon Court (Edward C. Knight mansion) and Miramar (Eleanor Elkins Widener mansion)—as well as the Philadelphia Museum of Art and the Free Library of Philadelphia.
A German-born coal magnate who counted the Prince of Wales and Theodore Roosevelt as friends, I cannot begin to stress how rich and powerful Edward Julius Berwind was. In 1930, the New York Times named him “one of the 59 men who rule America.” He had a monopoly on global coal production and supplied much of the coal used by the New York Subway system (he helped found it) and the US Navy (he was retired from it). He was strongly opposed to union organizing. He may, as the docent repeatedly said, have been kind to his household staff, but I doubt his miners would have said the same.
The Elms’ lavish interior was designed by Jules Allard to emulate the opulent 18th century French style. It showcases many of the French and Venetian artworks collected by the Berwinds during their travels abroad (all those Venetians in the dining room, etc), as well as sculptures and statues original to the Château d’Asnières.
I have nothing to say about the gardens. They were fine. Marble pavilions, fountains, a sunken garden, and tea house. Everything as expected. Nothing particularly wow.
7/10; would not be surprised if my ancestors mined Berwind coal.
For our twenty-second wedding anniversary, we went day tripping in Jamestown and Newport, Rhode Island. Our first stop was the Jamestown Arts Center where my beloved was sure I would enjoy “Spacing Out: Expanding the Field of Vision” exhibition and he was so very right.
Spacing Out: Expanding the Field of Vision unites art that blurs the boundary between two- and three- dimensions. Spacing Out contextualizes the work of contemporary artists who challenge the limitations of space among historical works that also play with dimensionality. It asks the viewer to reconsider their visual and spatial perception, questioning the art’s depth and attachment to a surface. This surface, as well as edge, texture, scale, volume, place, and movement become the dialect with which the artists expand our concepts of sculpture and art in general.
I was immediately smitten with Deininger pieces and wish I had thought to film them rather than take photographs. Then the distortion of form and the play of objects would be more obvious to you. Like many of the pieces Deininger contributed to the exhibition, “Hanging Summer Tanager” can be viewed as a whole, recognizable bird from only one angle. But move to either side and the bird is revealed to be a glorious explosion of plastic tat. That it all comes together to form a charming yellow bird seems unlikely, but there it is.
The same is true for “We Killed Cock Robin,” a cloud of plastic toys surrounding an arrow that pierces the heart of the robin. The arrow, as with the rest of the found objects, is not visible when looking at the bird in its entirety. Looked at sideways, the robin appears to be exploding out from the arrow. Contained chaos.
Inspired by telescopic images of asteroid belts and microscopic views of environmental particulates, Renadette’s pieces are assembled from such disparate ingredients as styrofoam packaging, window screen, disassembled artificial flowers, and cocktail swords. As with “Tanager” and “Robin,” “Hurtling” is an artwork that needs to be seen in person to be best appreciated.
On our way back from Peony’s Envy (see previous post), we stopped to stretch our legs at the Frelinghuysen Arboretum in Morris, New Jersey. Dedicated in 1971, the arboretum was a gift from Matilda Frelinghuysen and consists of 127 mixed acres of woodlands, meadows, gardens, and (of course) trees. There is also a Colonial Revival style summer home, used by the late Frelinghuysens three months of the year, but the house was closed to visitors at the time of our visit.
The Frelinghuysen Arboretum can be divided into three sections. The first sections is the home demonstration gardens area encircling the Haggerty Education Center. There you will find a perennial garden, rock garden, blue garden, cottage garden, special needs garden, and so much more. I spent an hour in this section alone.
The second section is the mansion garden area which includes the great lawn, heritage rose garden, knot garden, several fountains, an arbor, and more. According to the cell phone tour, the rose gardens beds are laid out between the spokes of a brick walk that resemble the Union Jack. In the center beds are Knock Out Roses with hybrid tea and ground cover roses around the edge of the garden.
The third section is what I thought of as the arboretum proper — the trees, paths, and meadow that comprise the majority of the grounds. While we didn’t spend much time in this section, I would like to return next spring to see the crabapples and flowering cherries in bloom.
Although we only spent a scant two hours at the Frelinghuysen Arboretum, we enjoyed every minute and would recommend it as a peaceful way to spend an afternoon in North Jersey.