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I’M AT THE LEGENDARY HOTEL ELYSÉE in Manhattan. If someone told me it was 1945, I would believe them.
The 15-story, 103-room landmark is very Old New York. I’m loving my sweet room on the 8th floor, with its blue-and-white striped wallpaper, chintz swag curtains, gilded mirrors, and Chinoiserie lamps. No two rooms are alike here; that’s one of the signatures of the place, which has had a rep for arty eccentricity since it opened in 1926.
This is the New York of Ben Hecht and Charles McArthur, Joe DiMaggio and Tallulah Bankhead, Maria Callas and Vladimir Horowitz, Tennessee Williams and Mary McCarthy. All lived here for a time, along with the Barrymores, Marlon Brando, Ava Gardner, Harold Robbins, Jimmy Breslin — a ridiculously long list of writers and theater people who appreciated the Elysée’s low-key elegance and discretion.
I’d so much rather be here than in some soulless Marriott or too-trendy Lower East Side hotel. Last night I met my friend and former colleague Harriet Bell (she edited my book, Mid-Century Modern, back in the ’80s — in fact, the whole thing was her idea) for martinis and Manhattans (what else?) in the hotel’s atmospheric Monkey Bar, with its wraparound mural of cavorting humanoid monkeys.
At the moment, I’m in the Elysee’s breakfast room, surrounded by voices speaking British English, Italian, and French. I’m not surprised the place attracts European visitors. Harriet, who came up to check out my accommodations last night, said the Elysée reminds her of Parisian hotels, “but with bigger rooms.”
I came into “town” yesterday to attend WordCampNYC for users of WordPress, much of which was directed toward developers rather than bloggers and beyond the reaches of my low-tech brain.
So here I am within striking distance of MoMA, Central Park, Bendel’s, and any number of midtown attractions. My plan for today is to see David Hockney’s recent paintings at Pace Wildenstein on 57th Street and find a new handbag at a street stand; we don’t have those in East Hampton. Check-out time is a civilized 1PM. Then I’m heading back on the flying jitney (how does it manage to make the trip in just two hours?), with its equally speedy wi-fi, to my cottage in the woods.
THIS IS ONE OF MY LOCAL DELIS, below. It’s the Amagansett Farmers Market, owned by Eli Zabar of Upper West Side fame. The market is miniaturized for the off-season from a full-service grocery and produce store to a single cozy room stocking basics like bread, soups, and seasonal vegs from area farmers.
I stopped in the other day for a cup of mushroom barley and met the two young women in the photo, Katie Baldwin (at left) and Amanda Morrow. They’re organic farmer chicks in their 20s, who’ve leased eight acres behind the market from the Peconic Land Trust and have just finished their first growing season (well, not quite finished — they’re still harvesting a few root vegetables). They call their business Amber Waves, and they grow 31 varieties of tomatoes, but their main interest is in bringing wheat farming back to Long Island after an absence of some 60 years.
Later I noticed a “For Rent” sign in front of this classic cedar-shingled house, below, which I have to guess from the Greek Revival doorway (though that could have been added later) is early 19th century.
Regrettably, like so many old houses, it’s right smack on Main Street (aka Montauk Highway or Route 27). In the old days, that must have made sense, to get the carts and horses more easily out onto the unpaved dirt road, particularly when it snowed. Now too many trucks whizz by. But the backyard has a barn and outbuildings, and the house is immaculately restored inside (I peeked in the windows), with gleaming wood floors and fireplaces in every room.
AT THIS TIME OF YEAR, my thoughts turn to London. I used to go there often, usually in November when air fares dropped. On my last visit, I went to the City of London Museum and saw a huge exhibition on the Great Fire of 1666. What I remember most was the exquisite garnet and gold jewelry that had been buried in people’s backyards as the fire raged, and was later excavated. The jewelry was so fine that it struck me anew how advanced, in some ways, civilization was in those medieval days, lack of indoor plumbing notwithstanding.
I became fascinated with the remnants of London’s pre-fire architecture, much of it located in the area around Bishopsgate and made of stone.
On December 2, the New Medieval & Renaissance Galleries will open at the Victoria and Albert Museum – ten rooms of material chronologically arranged from 300 to 1600 AD. Among the highlights: the façade of Sir Paul Pindar’s timber-framed house, top, a rare survivor of the Great Fire.
Sir Paul Pindar’s house in the 1860s
Here’s some backstory:
In 1597, Sir Paul Pindar, a tobacco merchant and financier with connections to James I and Charles I, bought several properties just outside London’s city walls. In this area, he built a new three-and-a-half-story house. To the left, the older existing properties were adapted to form part of an impressive new frontage. To the right, a gateway led down the side of the house. Between these, Pindar built a new bay, above, and it is this that has survived…
In 1890, the property was demolished to make room for the expansion of Liverpool Street Station, but fortunately, the façade was recognized as an architectural rarity and presented to the V&A.
To read more about the house and the New Medieval and Renaissance Galleries, go here.
HAVE YOU HEARD? Metropolitan Home, one of the few American interior design magazines left standing, is ceasing to publish as of its December issue. Hachette Filippachi, the publisher, has decided to put all its shelter magazine eggs in the Elle Decor basket.
This has particularly sad resonance for me, as I’ve been writing for that magazine since its very first issue in April 1981, and have been a contributing editor since the early ’90s. I loved working with its editors, who are uncommonly nice people across the board. And of course my personal income has just taken a shot.
It’s a shocker and a disappointment. While not everything in every issue appealed to me, I know how dedicated the Met Home editors were to finding the most stylish projects around and pulling each issue together into a cohesive, top-quality package.
I heard the news yesterday afternoon, ironically, while standing on the corner of Columbus Avenue and 86th Street with Carl D’Aquino, the interior designer. He and I had just come out of a jewel box of a 550-square-foot penthouse apartment he designed, which I was going to write about for the March issue, now not to be. Carl’s phone rang; it was his PR rep bearing the bad news.
Let’s see…H&G, Cottage Living, Country Living, Domino, O at Home, and now Met Home. All gone.
It’s a damn shame, is it not?
EVERY SO OFTEN, a truly splendiferous house comes to market, like this turreted 15-room, 5,200-square-foot mansion in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park South Historic District. The AIA Guide to New York City calls the 1905 building by architect John J. Petit “Shingle Style with a Colonial Revival, Tuscan-colonnaded porch” — altogether fitting for a neighborhood that is itself an eclectic mix of styles popular in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
First listed in September 2007 for $2,595,000, it sold last month for $1.6M (go here for more about the house’s price history).
The new owners, Brooklyn residents since 1992, intend not only to bring the house back to its original state, but to blog about the renovation on Brownstoner.com as they go. The first post appeared last Friday.
They have their work cut out for them. The house is a Victorian extravanganza, laden with woodwork, chandeliers, stained glass, a wraparound porch, grand staircase, an extraordinary oval dining room, and nooks and crannies galore.
But the kitchen had been banished to a back hall during the house’s years as a doctor’s home and office (the spectacular dining room was used as a waiting room). There’s vinyl siding, miles of excess wiring, cracked plaster, and lots more to do and un-do.
To get a sense of the project ahead, go to the Albemarle Reno Blog and follow the transformation.
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