On Thursday, June 7^th, the Merchant’s House Museum in Manhattan’s East Village is having its annual summer benefit party in its garden. This year’s event, titled A Greek Revival, will help support the museum’s Historic Furnishings Plan and provide important funding to a property very special to me and to the history of New York City. It is a house so unique and ripe with period decoration that I have chosen it to be the subject of the second post in our series, House of Details, where I focus on exceptional houses and reveal some of the features that make them so.

Our friend and director of the museum, Pi Gardiner, shared with us a brief history of the house along with comments on some of the house’s most interesting details: 

The Merchant’s House Museum, at 29 East 4^th Street, also known as the Seabury Tredwell House, is one of the great gems of New York. The red-brick and white-marble row house was built in 1832 and home to a wealthy merchant family for almost 100 years. Its importance stems from the fact that it is the only family home in the city from the early to mid-19th century to have survived virtually intact, including its original neoclassical decorations and furniture.  The house was one of the first 20 buildings designated under the City’s new landmarks preservation law in 1965, and was landmarked for its Greek revival interiors in 1982. The museum’s collection of over 3,000 items ranges from a suite of 12 side chairs attributed to Duncan Phyfe to 40 19^th century dresses owned by the Tredwell women. In 2011, the Merchant’s House celebrated its 75^th anniversary as a museum.

These elaborate wrought-iron basket urns on Tuckahoe marble plinths flank the entrance to the house.

The vestibule features an elaborate fanlight and a faux-marbre wall treatment.

The mahogany newel post and hand rail are carved elaborately with acanthus leaf motifs.

This view illustrates the main entertaining space of the Tredwells’ impressive home, the front parlor, which includes a suite of Rococo Revival furniture. The curtains were recreated by Scalamandre based on the original curtains that were still hanging in 1933 when the last family member, Gertrude Tredwell, died at the age of 93.

When the Tredwells redecorated their home in the 1850s, they moved this spectacular Empire sofa from the parlor to the family’s dining room on the ground floor, replacing it with a more fashionable suite of Rococo Revival furniture, as seen in the previous image. The fabric is a reproduction by Scalamandre that matches the curtains in the double parlor.

These images illustrate some of the trimmings used in the house. Scalamandre recreated these tassels based on the originals that decorated the parlor curtains. We are not sure where this blue trim was used, but we think it may have originally been part of bed hangings. They remind me of little tassel soldiers - and is the blue not amazing?

One of a pair of matching patinated-bronze gasoliers, a design patent 1852, in the Greek revival double parlor. This grand ceiling medallion, one of a pair located in the parlor and dining room, is considered the finest extant example in the country.

Fluted Ionic columns stand on either side of the pocket doors to the rear parlor dining room which can be closed to separate the two spaces. This view highlights the architectural symmetry of these two spaces that would have been reflected in the pair of pier mirrors, one between the two dining room windows, and one between the two parlor windows directly opposite.

Particularly noteworthy is a set of 12 mahogany side chairs attributed to Duncan Phyfe and originally covered in black horsehair. They have been recovered in a new black horsehair with a jacquard pattern.

The parlor carpet is a reproduction of the original wall-to-wall carpet installed by the Tredwells.

This bedroom features another classically inspired reproduction wall-to-wall carpet and an elaborate tester bed with carved gilt-wood acanthus leaf finials. The bed in the next bedroom also features elaborate finials that are, instead, of pressed gilt brass.  The matching beds were purchased when the Tredwells bought the house in 1835.

In the adjacent bedroom, a small Chippendale mirror, the earliest piece in the house, circa 1805, is flanked by two ormolu and opaline glass calla lily gas sconces.

And, finally, my favorite decorative detail in the house: the side of the mahogany pillar-and-scroll sofa in the rear parlor. When you climb the stairs from the ground floor, you can see this angle at eye level. Divine, no? The above is a painting of that view by Robert Van Nutt.

I would also like to share that the museum is currently facing an important preservation battle that threatens the structural and aesthetic integrity of this home. A large and inappropriately scaled hotel is being planned for the lot directly adjacent to the museum, which is in scale with commercial structures on Lafayette instead of the residential properties along this block of East 4^th Street.   

To help preserve this important home, I hope you will sign our petition.

I have been out of the city a great deal this week, driving past rural cemeteries preparing for Memorial Day. Their lawns are mowed, flags for Veterans arranged, and soon many graves will have arrangements of flowers. When I was younger I thought it was waste to place flowers where no one can see them.

Since then, I have learned that they have long provided a primordial connection between the living and dead. My friend Stephen Gerth offers that archeologist in present day Iraq have found flowers in Neanderthal graves. There are preserved blossoms from Tutankhamun’s tomb. 

In the United States, Memorial Day began as Decoration Day. After the Civil War, women organized the placement of flowers on the graves of soldiers. In the late nineteenth century, it also became the custom, along with those of soldier’s, to decorate family graves with flowers.  Eventually Decoration Day became titled Memorial Day, and in 1967 was legislated as a legal holiday. (Of course, being a decorator, I like the old name better.) 

I especially remember the Memorial Day my senior year of college at Oregon. I went home with a classmate Nancy Merrymen to visit Klamath Falls, an old cattle and timber town that her family helped settle in the 19th century.  I recognized their long local history when we called on her grandmother who remembered traveling to San Francisco via stagecoach and then train to hear Caruso sing. Alas, the earthquake of 1906 turned her back.  

The next day Nancy and I along with her family gathered flowers and arranged them on the graves of their ancestors. Our efforts lasted into the afternoon as we venerated the monuments of great-grand parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, sisters, brothers, and then family friends who had no remaining kin. Care was taken to make the arrangements handsome. Parallel to this effort was a constant narrative of memories and associations about all the interconnections between those remembered. 

Then I realized why we leave flowers for the dead: to create beauty and further memory— for me a striking interface between decoration and life.  

Our good friend and prize winning photographer Kerri McCaffety has a new book out, New Orleans New Elegance, by Monacelli Press. Kerri (who has also photographed several of my own projects, some of which will be appearing in my upcoming book) has put together a collection of 40 homes throughout New Orleans, including my own French Quarter apartment and those of our friends Peter Patout and Robert Clepper. Her book focuses on inventive post-Katrina interiors that feel fresh and new. In a city with such a deep-set devotion to the past, it is interesting to see this sensibility take root. I admire this new approach because it takes pleasure in all that is old and special about this unique American city, but casts a new eye towards them. It is exciting to see New Orleans’s great architecture and creole legacy transformed by this new energy.  

Julia Reed, our devoted friend, client, and world famous author, wrote the book’s introduction. She perfectly sums up what took place in many minds after the hurricane:

Given the city’s current atmosphere, living in a shrine to the past no longer feels appropriate. There is also the fact that hundreds of thousands of houses were either destroyed or damaged, and countless personal items lost. A lot of people had no choice but to start over. In style terms, this has translated into a look that can best be described as liberated. Keeping Great Aunt Jane’s settee covered with the same faded silk brocade she herself inherited with it no longer seems of paramount importance in a city where so many lost so much, including the equivalent of Great Aunt Jane.

She also notes that in this ‘liberated’ city, many past customs, some of which were largely abandoned, have been reintroduced in new form.

In early Creole cottages, for example, sparsely furnished rooms had multiple uses, and furniture was easily portable. With the arrival of guests (and the addition of a few armchairs) a bedroom might morph into a sitting room; a parlor might become a dining room with the addition of a table leaf or the simple rearrangement of furniture- a thoroughly modern way to live.

I think our so called “mural room” where we have had the pleasure of Julia’s company fits the bill.

Kerri’s book brings to mind some other favorite books on New Orleans:

French Quarter Manual: An Architectural Guide, by Malcom Heard

Heard’s book is an encyclopedic guide to French Quarter architecture, providing descriptions of the different types of structure to be found there — French Colonial and Spanish Colonial houses, the cottage, the town house, and the shotgun house — as well as Federal, Greek Revival, Gothic, and Italianate styles.

New Orleans: Elegance and Decadence, by Randolph Delehanty, photography by Richard Sexton

One of my favorite books onNew Orleansstyle and architecture with photography from one ofNew Orleanspreeminent photographers.

Vestiges of Grandeur, by Richard Sexton

Sexton’s sequel to Elegance and Decadence is a visual tour through many ofLouisiana’sRiver Road plantations. Some of these have had the good fortune to become museums or remain homes, while others are now abandoned.

Stealing Magnolias: Tales from a New Orleans Courtyard, by Debra Shriver

Shriver chronicles the restoration of her French Quarter home as well as draw attention to the cultural assets of the city via the work of 20 photographers and artists.

The Majesty of the French Quarter, by Kerri McCaffety

McCaffety’s tribute toNew Orleanspublished in 1999, illustrating the pre-Katrina city. An interesting bookend to Kerri’s new book.

All images by Kerri McCaffety. 

Image at top and 3rd image shows Peter Patout’s house in New Orleans.

Fourth and Fifth Images show the Sitting Room of Thomas Jayne and Rick Ellis’s French Quarter apartment. 

The last image is a view from courtyard to Sitting Room of Robert Clepper’s French Quarter apartment. 

I have long appreciated American silver of the mid-19th to early part of the 20th century. Great wealth and well trained designers and craftsmen freed from the strictures of European guilds, created fantastic objects unique in the history of the decorative arts.   

Imagine impeccably made objects with polar bears sitting on icy ledges that also serve as bowl handles, a snake’s body curling into the form of a pitcher or ships in full sail, all rendered in silver form. It was truly a golden time for silver.

The impetus for this period of creative silver smithing was the Tariff of 1842, a protectionist bill enacted by congress that added a 30% tax on imported silverware, allowing America’s own craftsmen to dominate the market. It was furthered by a dramatic drop in silver prices beginning in the 1870s and lasting through 1915. By the end of the 19th century, the United States was producing and consuming more silver than any other country in the world.

In the mid-19th century, two firms gained prominence, Tiffany and Gorham. Tiffany was founded in New York City in 1837 and operated as a “stationery and fancy goods emporium” until 1853 when Charles Tiffany took control. He took the company on a new course, emphasizing silver and jewelry made by  the finest craftsmen and materials. Tiffany’s superiority was noted at the 1867 Exposition Universalle in Paris when it became the first US firm to win an award for excellence in silverware, and again in 1878 when they won the grand prize for silverware.

E. Gorham was founded in 1831 in Providence by Jabez Gorham and largely focused on the production of coin silver spoons. In 1847 his son John Gorham took over the company and introduced new technologies. The business grew, emerging in the 1850’s as Tiffany’s chief rival. Its famous flatware founds its way onto the tables of many White House administrations and it trophy designs for sporting events were renowned.

While both firms still exist in altered form today, their products are more circumspect and meant to address the tastes of a wider audience. In their hey day, Tiffany and Gorham (and many smaller companies whose names we no longer recognize) made sculpture with practical purpose. Today, those objects are treasured for their beauty and rarity – a lost art with no equal today.

Here are several intriguing examples.

This teakettle, made by John C. Moore in 1850, was given to the president of the New England and New York State Telegraph Companies. The grape vine decoration is typical of American silver of the period. The Zeus-like figure clutching bolts of lightning serves as the handle of the lid. It is the sort of unusual detail that artisans of the period lavished on their special commissions.  

This silver tea urn manufactured by Gorham in 1860 features elaborate ornamentation related to railroads. The handle of the lid is a train, a railroad track encircles the waist of the urn, and the urn sits on ‘brick’ piers. It was given to Senator Edward D. Baker by San Francisco civic leaders to advocate the construction of a transcontinental railroad.

The Bryant Vase, designed by James Horton Whitehouse of Tiffany, dates from 1875-76 and features medallions by Augustus Saint-Gaudens. It was commissioned to honor William Cullen Bryant on his 80th birthday. The form is a Greek vase decorated with fretwork and American flora including apple blossoms and branches.

This silver ice bowl and spoon was made by Gorham in 1874. The bowl is in the form of an icy glacier with two polar bears serving as handles. Victorian homes were filled with frivolous, over the top creations such as this.

This snake pitcher by Gorham, c. 1885, takes its shape from a coiled snake, reflecting the late 19th century interest in Middle Eastern imagery.

Commissioned by the New York Yacht Club in 1884, this Tiffany punch bowl exemplifies the high quality of trophies the club commissioned. Its hammered surface and applied decoration of shrimp, kelp, and shells typifies the interest in Japanese style of the Aesthetic Movement.

This punch bowl, c. 1885 by Gorham, is contemporaneous with the example made by Tiffany. The Gorham version is more exuberant and lively in contrast to the more restrained Tiffany version. 

This Gorham flask from 1888 was commissioned by Alexander Robery Shepherd with silver from his mines inBatopilas,Chihuahua,Mexico, was one of 15 given as promotional gifts to Mexican and American officials to support the Mexican silver market. 

The Magnolia Vase (seen at top) was Tiffany’s most noteworthy entry at the World’s Columbian Exposition of 1893. Designed by John T. Curran, the form was derived from Pueblo pottery with handles that relate to Toltec artifacts. The stylized plants are meant to represent various parts of the United States: pine for the North, magnolia for the Southeast, and cacti for the Southwest.

This Art Deco cigar humidor is one of the last important pieces of Tiffany presentation silver. Dating from 1925, it is decorated with scenes of mining relating to the American Metal Company. The Great Depression largely ended commissions for major works of presentation silver, and the few that were produced were increasingly conservative and restrained in their design. 

When devising color schemes and decorative detailing for homes, I often look to historic portraits and paintings for inspiration. I especially admire early American portraits and interiors. They continually inspire me through their novel colors and rich features such as patterned carpets, sculptural upholstery forms, and painted Windsor furniture. 

Historic portraits give the viewer a sense of what color was like during that period and how it was used in interiors. Interestingly, these distinct colors and the presentation of forms give the paintings an abstract quality. There are spacial inconsistencies and unexpected juxtapositions that are not meant to be taken literally. Artists of that time liberally rendered objects and perspective in seemingly illogical ways. It is part of what draws us to their work– the surface veneer of realism with underpinnings of fantasy. The artists are consumed by rendering the finer points, while not getting caught up in the need to create literal impressions of rooms. 

One artist who has been particularly inspirational in my work is Ralph Earl. He was a self taught early American painter working from the mid 1770s to 1801. Originally from Massachusetts, he left his family in 1778 and went to England where he studied under Benjamin West. He went on to paint the King and other notables before returning to America in the mid 1780s with a new wife and greater renown. Ralph Earl: The Face of the Young Republic by Elizabeth Mankin Kornhauser is an invaluable resource and record of Earl’s work.

I share a few of his works here highlighting what particularly draws me to them. 

Elijah Boardman, 1789, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, NY (At top)

The prosperous merchant Elijah Boardman is depicted in his store in New Milford, Connecticut. I admire the pattern on pattern effect of the bolts of fabrics in the doorway and the subtle nail head trim on the leather top desk.

Oliver and Abigail Wolcott Ellsworth, 1792, Wadsworth Atheneum, Hartford, CT

The couple is depicted in their Palladian-style parlor, an addition made to their Windsor home by local architect Thomas Hayden. The swag patterned nail head trim and pink fringe on the chair are beautifully documented in this painting. The unusual drape of the curtains across the bookcase is an example of the sort of playful detail not meant for literal interpretation.

Roger Sherman, 1775-6, Yale University Art Gallery, New Haven, CT

This austere portrait of Robert Sherman primarily has one decorative prop — a Windsor armchair with a red seat. Painted Windsor furniture has become somewhat of a hallmark of my interiors. Their lightweight shape and form make them easy to move about and place in rooms.

David  Baldwin, 1790, High Museum of Art, Atlanta, GA

I am drawn to the nail head trim, a popular detail of the period, in this portrait of Connecticut merchant David Baldwin. I frequently use nail head on chairs and benches. I recently employed them on a set of chairs placed in a tented dining room of a West Side apartment in New York City.

Colonel Benjamin Tallmadge and Son William Talmadge, 1790, The Litchfield Historical Society, Litchfield, CT

This monumental image, one of a pair, illustrates several novel decorative ideas. The most prominent is the employment of en suite upholstery where a single fabric is used throughout, here being the green fabric and gold trim on curtains, chair and table cover. Note how Earl used the curtains as compositional devices around the figures.

Benjamin S. Judah, 1794, Wadsworth Atheneum, Hartford, CT

This painting of the merchant Benjamin S. Judah reveals a bit of the elaborate upholstery on the chair on which he is seated. Silk damask was rare and expensive in this era, and sparingly used, making its presence here notable.

Houses Fronting New Milford Green, 1796

While not a painting of interiors, the fronts of these Palladian style houses belonging to Elijah Boardman, subject of the portrait shown earlier, inspired my choice of exterior paint colors of a house I worked on in Scarsdale, New York. Incidentally, some of the color selections inside this Scarsdale house are surprising and drawn from art as well – there will be examples of it in my upcoming book of my work, American Decoration, A Sense of Place.

Ephraim Starr, 1802, Wadsworth Atheneum, Hartford, CT

Painted by Simon Fitch

This painting by Simon Fitch serves as evidence of how influential Earl’s work was on his contemporaries. Ephraim Starr’s Windsor chair sits on a heavily patterned floor, a compositional device made popular by Earl (see the Talmadge portrait above). This carpet served as the inspiration for a design in my line of carperts for Stark. View that collection here.