This Old House, Part Deux

Remember that grand old building I live in? Through the ups and downs, it's been a great ride but the house is now sold and Very Vanilla will be moving on soon! Goodbye dust bunnies and drafty windows, hello "real" apartment with a full size kitchen and closets (fingers crossed). In efforts to capture all my favorite features, I have been snapping photos of this here homestead since last fall. I certainly will miss living under such tall, majestic trees. The two story high columns are not bad either!

When I say "old," I should say "ancient." Certain areas of the interior were never refinished and have almost literally stood still in time. Many vestiges of the old school remain, including the bowling alley! What school would be complete without one of those? I love the wooden pins and paint whose sea foam hue is barely hanging on.

Most certainly my favorite feature is the Secret Garden-esque trellis which has held wisteria vines for over 100 years.

This Old House

Really it's a miracle that I have not mentioned my place of residence sooner. Once an 1850s era school and totally the first house on the block (or farm field), the bulding is a slice of New England history. The place was owned by the Allen family for several generations and was transformed over time from a little farmhouse to a Greek Revival estate. Mr. Allen operated the kindergarden and primary school for a good portion of his life but then over the next few decades, the family died out. 


One fine day in the 1970s, my Grandma Helen fell in love with the house and made it her life's work to preserve the structure and the Allen family's legacy. Grandma has passed on but thanks to her hard work, the building is on the National Historic Registrar (so it can never be town down) and it houses seven fantastically quirky rental units. A long story short, it was fate that I ended up moving here. Possibly because my mind is often clouded with frustration directed at my closet size kitchen and the apartment's simultaneous lack of actual closets, I often forget how near and dear my surroundings really are. I have always admired home interiors of yore but living here has brought a whole new meaning to "they don't make it like they used to." I have been wanting to share this place for quite some time and now the time seems ripe! I just found out that yours truly and the bf will be moving to Portland, Oregon later this year, so the nostalgia is already setting in. Welcome to my virtual museum.


There is way too much to show so I am going to break this into a few separate posts. First off are the two parlor rooms. About 20 years ago, the rooms were restored to their former Victorian glory complete with a refurbished gilded mirror and historically accurate wall embellishments. My all time favorite is the chandelier. It's out of commission as a light source (gas lighting = giant fire hazard) but it remains the focal point of the room. I am not much for cupids, like the one on top, but it's still a spectacular piece. I especially like the hidden faces on the ceiling hardware.

Then we have the mirror. I have seen a photo circa the 19th century of this exact wall. The piece hasn't moved! Modern taste would probably warn against putting  that chandelier with that looking glass but those Victorians layered on the opulence with abandon. 

 

And by now you may have been wondering: "What on earth is going on with that wallpaper?" Glad you asked. In efforts to restore these rooms, research was conducted on what type of wallpaper and ceiling paint would have been present back in the day. A grant allowed for the paper to be custom ordered from England. Fine stock indeed. The golds are metallic and the trim is the richest of black hues. Remember those velvety coloring posters you had as a kid? That's what the black most closely resembles. It's actually fuzzy felt! The ceiling is sea green with fancy flourishes at each corner. Again, the design scheme is busy but the 1o foot ceilings and tall, plentiful windows make for a bright, airy space. 

 There is definitely some killer iron work going on here as well. The level of attention to detail simply melts my heart! Also, see my desk area which has a floor-to-ceiling built-in bookcase on the right hand side.

Boston's Finest

Gosh, speaking of art and speaking of wonderful things I had for one reason or another not seen yet, I visited the Isabella Stewart Gardner museum yesterday. Truthfully, my relationship with the city of Boston has been tenuous at times. Drivers speed like there's no tomorrow, my beloved cowboy boots get frequent second glances (not the bad kind, just the confused kind), and I generally find city life to be a little too buttoned up. Of course, this place has its finer points, especially when it comes to grand old structures and fascinating history.  A Venetian-style palace brimming with worldly treasures, the ISG museum, I can safely say is one-of-a-kind. 

The courtyard is what paradise must look like - a menagerie of flowers, plants, fountains, statues and even a mosaic! Part structured European garden (oh, the symmetry!), part wild greenhouse (those fern trees sure aren't native to the region), I felt like I was Alice in Wonderland. Not normally inclined to sketch, I found myself wanting to spend hours doing so, ideally with a cup of tea in hand and classical music in the background. While the floor and walls are plenty on which eyes can feast, the expansive glass paned roof, original to the place, deserves a mention as well.  And just when you think you've figured the place out, the east-meets-west vibe kicks in and you come across the mysterious Chinese Room steps that lead down to a secret temple (so secret that I cannot locate a good photo).

The plantings are rotated nine times annually to suit different seasons and holidays. Returning when the museum hangs the nasturtiums in April is a must!

An even bigger mystery is the 1990 heist that resulted in the theft of 13 master paintings by the likes of Vermeer and Degas. The empty frames are a post-mortem tribute. 

When strolling these halls, one feels an kinship with the space. After all, the founder, Ms. Isabella, herself, lived here had a hand in every detail of the space, from the building's design to the collection's arrangement. It reminds me of other particularly intimate museums I have visited, mainly the Musée Gustav Moreau and Victor Horta Museum (which I have rambled about before). 

 

 

By far my favorite piece is John Singer Sargent's El Jaleo, which further exemplifies my love for all things gypsy!

Lastly, to add further contrast to this enigmatic museum, it just got a major new contemporary addition which just opened this year. See more of the modernist fantasticalness here.

 **Visitors aren't permitted to take photos but I managed to scoop some up online.  All are from the museum's website, except for the courtyard ceiling,  vacant frames, and new addition.**

Nautical by Nature

Mad Men, Downton Abbey, Boardwalk Empire, it seems like all my favorite television shows these days are about bygone eras. There is just something so fascinating about looking into the past, when life was so starkly different. Well, they say one is bound to turn into one's parents so it's no wonder I have become a bit of a history nerd just like a certain father I know. When visiting the USS Constitution in Charlestown the other day, I got an impromptu famiy history lesson from said dad. After a visit to the museum, we wandered over to the adjacent navy yard where the USS Cassin Young is dry docked. A World War II era vessel, "she" was a destroyer ship that specialized in anti-aircraft and anti-submarine missions. I got to brush up on my nautical terms - we boarded the ship and had a good look around, viewing the decks, the galley, the berthing, the holds, and the mess hall, which ironically doubled as the surgery room!

It was great to hear some family stories that had never come up before. My grandpa enlisted in the Navy at age 17(!), serving on an oiler that supplied fuel to other ships. He scored well in shooting during training and thus was assigned to man one of the small cannons, very similar to the one below. It's not an easy task since to hit airplanes, such rapidly moving targets! The gunner aimed by looking through the sight, also shown below. A second person had to change the ammunition cartridge about every minute and further still, a third had to actually replace the end of the barrel frequently as it would become molten hot and warp under the intense heat created simply from operating the weapon. I his two years of service, drandpa went all over the globe, most notably to the battle of Okinawa, one of the last major WWII events. He went on to be an artist, meet my grandma and start a family in Paris, France. Here is grandpa below with my dad (right) and uncle.