Author: Michael Chappell

Debo, Your Grace, the last of the Mitfords, and Mrs Cavendish- Deborah, the Dowager Duchess of Devonshire would probably respond with equal aplomb to however she’s called. One of the most enjoyable articles I’ve read in World of Interiors, a very enjoyable publication, was that in this month’s issue, penned by Her Grace herself, on a restored vicarage that now functions as her dower house. Interesting, what was formerly my favorite article in World of Interiors was something from five years ago, about the Mayfair house the Duchess shared with the recently late Duke, that was soon to be put on the market.

I don’t know that I have any peculiarly inordinate fascination with English aristocracy, but certainly in the case of the dowager duchess, she is such an astonishing woman, avuncular, and down to earth, that anyone, even the most dyed in the wool republican, would find her at the very least engaging. With all that, her own familial connections joined with those of the Cavendish family result in a pedigree few on earth could ever match. Just at the moment, with the family’s so-called attic sale scheduled for early next month at Sotheby’s, the focus is on their renowned Derbyshire country seat of Chatsworth, but the sale includes a huge number of items from Devonshire House, their London house long since demolished, designed in the early 18^th century by the redoubtable William Kent.

Sotheby’s catalog for the upcoming sale, I must say, is worth whatever you have to pay for it. Whether you buy anything or not, the catalog itself is a compendious recounting of all the building works of the Cavendish family beginning as long ago as the Elizabethan prodigy house, Hardwick Hall.

In a brief Facebook exchange with colleague and now design journalist Kendra Boutell, it occurred to me, times being the way they are, that we have an unusually large stock of some items, most notably mirrors. Some time back, I had written a brief squib about period mirrors for my friend Heidi Gerpheide for California Homes.  Still and all, my own fascination with mirrors remains unabated.

The three century survival of something as fragile as a giltframed mirror with its glass plate is worthy of wonder, but in our own age of mass production, the miracle of technology that allowed its production in the first place is lost in the mists of time. The now glaucous plates with their reflective surfaces achieved with an amalgam of silver and mercury were about the most precious thing then going- not the least element of which was the mercury poisoning that afflicted anyone involved in mirror production.

The ubiquitous gilt frame, often now the most prized portion of the mirror itself, was largely the result of a period notion of typology. With the mirror plate itself so precious, one naturally had to pair it with a framework that was equally so.

And as striking. With the ability to shape and grind glass resulting in the introduction of convex mirrors in the early 19^th century, the typical placement of the convex mirror above the mantelpiece in the sitting room gave an inordinate prominence to an object already astonishingly striking. Interestingly, these mirrors were always placed rather high up on the wall- their function was less to peer into, than to allow reflection of the entire room in the convex surface of the mirror plate.

See an album of our mirrors on our Facebook page.

I’ve heard it said that golf is becoming a less popular leisure activity, doubtless in favor of passive X-box types of pursuits. A real shame, times being the way they are, as I cannot think of anything more pleasant than half a day in the out of doors, pitting one’s own mettle against a small, dimpled white ball.

My life has in the main been a fortunate one, but, frankly, I had the joy of reminding myself how fortunate in the weekend just past, spent playing golf. In the middle 1990’s, Keith’s mother and father purchased a home at Blacklake Canyon, a golf resort on the coast about an hour north of Santa Barbara.  At the time, with its landscaping and homes new, it had the bare earth rawness of any new development, but, in the intervening years, the edge has worn off beautifully, with a combination of natural native oaks articulating perfectly with that landscape introduced to make a playable golf course. Suffice to say, we really have a good time there, with the course about as challenging as anything I will ever require. Moreover, with the house itself adjacent to the 11^th green, and looking to the westward toward the ocean, it is about as pretty a spot one could choose.

A brief interruption to the travelogue, to say that I am not the first to impute spiritual properties to the game of golf, but that does not make its spiritual aspects any less of a facet for me. From a mechanical standpoint, the club and the ball do all the work- with very little physical effort, the connection between the club face and the ball itself makes the ball travel a long, long way. Everything else is dependent on how the club is wielded, and that is dependent on the unity of mind and body. Does this sound like yoga? It should, as achieving such a unity, with the reward the ball flying off the club face and heading straight down the middle of the fairway in the direction of the flagstick, it all becomes a metaphor for success in life. I defy anyone to play a successful round of golf with a lot on the mind. And, for me, success during play and enjoyment are not consequentially dependent, but concomitant. And the same goes for life generally- as one does tend to keep score, a round of golf requires play hole by hole, and provides plenty of opportunities for success and, if success is not achieved on one hole- or with one stroke- there is always the next. And- you are able to do it all on your own. Of course, in life one isn’t always complete master of one’s fate, but I think that playing golf makes one realize that one has more control than one realizes- or cares to admit. And, there is always another chance.

A cheery coincidence yesterday, noting that the theme for the special exhibition at the San Francisco Fall Antiques Show is chinoiserie. This followed fairly quickly with an email notice from Enos Reese Interior Design of the launch of their new website. Mark Enos and Carmen Reese are designers we’ve been happy to know for a number of years. Amongst their design portfolio is a mid Wilshire high rise featuring, you guessed it, a piece from Chappell & McCullar, and, right again, it was a bit of chinoiserie, a red japanned George II period coffer.

Interesting, this fanciful piece is actually composed of rather durable vernacular materials, with the quarter sawn oak of the casework making it a practical as well as a decorative piece. Oak seems to have been popular for the European construction of furniture meant to look far eastern. These pieces often were a marriage of a European made stand to support a Chinese lacquer cabinet. This example is entirely European, English in this case, and constitutes a collaborative effort from at least three workshops- a joiner for the cabinet, a carver for the stand, and a painter-stainer for the surface decoration of both pieces. Actually, I left one workshop out- a clock maker for the construction of the brass hinges and lockplates, finely wrought, and perhaps more precisely made than the Chinese metalwork it sought to imitate.

The use of oak makes for an eminently practical choice. Durable, of course, but with the use of quartersawn planks in construction, also less likely to warp and expand and contract, which movement would damage the surface decoration. I have to say, on both pieces, the decoration is in surprisingly good condition. Also, in the case of the cabinet on stand, it is particularly important the piece maintain its structural integrity to allow access to its hidden compartments. Nothing worse, I’d imagine, than when trying to access the treasures hidden within, to find the drawers warped shut. And the treasures we found? Sad to say, nothing beyond some late 17^th century dust.

If you live in California or are transiting through San Francisco, by all means make your way to the de Young for the exhibition ‘The Birth of Impressionism’. While by all means go for the pictures- a once in ten lifetime’s loan while the building works continue at the Musée d’Orsay- the title of the exhibition gives insight into an important methodological slant. So, a body might in fact learn something, too.

That of course impressionism did not rise fully formed in its first exhibition in 1874 is easy to appreciate, but is generally forgotten. As, of course, is the importance of the Salon, the annual exhibition of the French Academy.  And it was the social importance of the rejection of the Salon and academicism in favor of impressionism that has a significance of which artistic production was a byproduct, albeit a lovely one.

With the technical advances of mass communication through photography, newspapers and telegraphy, the painting techniques and approved genres of academicism necessarily became anachronistic. I suppose that most courses in art history date the beginning of modern art with the socially realistic subjects of Courbet in the middle of the nineteenth century, and, of course, with improvements in communications making the plight of the poor manifestly apparent, academic subjects became increasingly just a manner of authoritarian fancy dress. And, more importantly, an aspect of social control. The degree to which the social control exercised by the ruling elite was resented by the population was made abundantly clear with the Paris commune. That the communards were quelled within a few months was beside the point- the speed at which it spread and its bloody savagery were shocking proof of deep, broadly based disquiet, painfully reminiscent to everyone of le Terreur of 1793-4.

Certainly this is an aspect of the exhibition that can be divined from looking at the pictures, but times being the way they are, it is not the primary focus, or, as I think about it, should it be, except for those that want it. The catalog is great, with plenty of lucid text putting the pictures in their proper context. Times being the way they are, most people, and this includes me most hours on most days, want to see something pleasing, and The Birth of Impressionism certainly is.

By the way, our friends on Facebook, tell us what you think about the exhibition- what you liked, or didn’t, and why.