Category: Features

Some 30 miles away from the hectic buzz of New York City, America’s wealthy elite once built luxurious mansions along Long Island’s North Shore, known as the Gold Coast. Many are no longer standing, but the Planting Fields Arboretum, one of a few that have remained, is a restful repose for admiring English-style architecture, open space, and lush flora.

An estate of the Coe family—which made its fortune during the early 20th century on running a successful marine insurance company—the 409 acres contain several gardens and greenhouses filled with tree, flower, and plant species from around the world. The Coe family home, also open to the public, was built in the style of an English country manor. Its facade alone is filled with architectural details charming enough to observe up close or from afar. For a fee, visitors can also venture inside for a tour.

Every corner of the estate is well manicured, with stately European gardens that conjure scenes of medieval chivalry. Aside from the chance to enjoy nature amid sounds of talkative birds all around, there are lots of open fields ideal for picnicking with family and friends. Spend an afternoon or a day here—because time seems to slow down when you allow yourself to take the views in.

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine.

In 1843, young Richard Morris Hunt and family traveled from America to Europe, where he gained his formal education. Initially, Hunt pursued training in art, but at the encouragement of his family, he took up architecture. Hunt studied under Geneva architect Samuel Darier and later joined the Paris studio of architect Hector Lefuel. In Paris, he studied for the entrance examinations of the École des Beaux-Arts and became the first American to be admitted to the prestigious school. In 1853, Hector Lefuel hired Hunt to help complete expansions to the famous art museum: the Nouveau Louvre. Although he worked in a primarily supervisory role, Hunt collaborated in the design of the Pavillon de la Bibliothèque. Thus, early in his career, he had the opportunity to work on a significant public project. Hunt returned to America in 1856 and took a position with architect Thomas Ustick Walter, who was working on the renovation and expansion of the U.S. Capitol. A year later, Hunt struck out on his own and moved to New York.

His first major project in New York was the 10th Street Studio Building. Hunt would establish his own practice there, and start a school of architecture as well. After a time of professional setback, however, Hunt found himself to be an architect desperately in need of a patron. At that time, Alva Vanderbilt (wife of William K. Vanderbilt) desperately wanted to make her mark on New York society. High society at the time was dominated by the Astors, who considered the Vanderbilts newcomers to wealth, and as such “second rate.” The Vanderbilts were shunned socially by the “society of 400,” which referred to the circle of polite society recognized by Caroline Schermerhorn Astor (and supposedly the maximum number of people she could host in her ballroom). Mrs. William K. Vanderbilt, however, refused to be denied her place in Gilded Age society. Alva, who loved French culture, and Hunt, with his Beaux-Arts background, collaborated to create a magical château amidst the brownstones of Fifth Avenue. Construction began in 1878 and was completed in 1882.

Lewis Mumford, American historian, described the years following the Civil War as a “buried Renaissance” and referred to that historic period as “The Brown Decades.”

The Civil War shook down the blossoms and blasted the promise of spring. The colours of American civilization abruptly changed. By the time the war was over, browns had spread everywhere: mediocre drabs, dingy chocolate browns, sooty browns that merged into black. Autumn had come.

Even men of considerable means, such as J.P. Morgan, lived in unassuming homes. American novelist Edith Wharton described the city as “little, low studded rectangular New York with its universal chocolate-colored coating of the most hideous stone ever quarried,” lacking “towers, porticoes, fountains or perspectives.” Alva Vanderbilt, desiring a house that would lift her social standing, worked with Hunt to create a bit of French Neo-Renaissance whimsy in the midst of the staid brown buildings. Hunt began with a beautifully rendered building that was asymmetrical, with towers and turrets and architectural detail placed for aesthetic joy. Constructed at 660 Fifth Avenue, it was the first of many châteaux that would be built in the Gilded Age of New York.

The house would be a work of art, intricately carved. Hunt chose Indiana Limestone for the exterior walls—a stone that worked beautifully and when smoothly finished glowed in the sunlight. It required an army of skilled artisans to build. The firm of Ellin & Kitson employed 40 stonemasons in the project. The personable Hunt not only worked well with his high-strung clients, but it seems he developed quite a rapport with his artisans as well. A story is told that when Hunt came to the house for the final walk-through, he discovered a large tent in one of the ballrooms. Inside, he found a life-sized statue of himself, dressed in stonecutter’s clothes. It had been carved in secret by the stonemasons as a tribute to the admired architect. William Vanderbilt had the statue placed upon the roof above the front door.

In March 1883, Alva hosted a dress ball for 1,200 people that captured the public’s attention. The affair is said to have cost $3 million. From Fifth Avenue, guests would enter the 60-foot-long grand hall, walled with stone, and were entertained in the grand home’s formal rooms. Just off of the hall was the library with its French Renaissance paneling. There was the salon, designed and built in Paris by Jules Allard and featuring a secretary-style desk previously owned by Marie Antoinette. At the end of the grand hall was a Gothic 50-by-30-foot banquet room. Austrian sculptor Karl Bitter carved the mantle details for the room’s massive double fireplace. The house was a fitting showcase for Gilded Age opulence and excess, and of course it inspired the building of many more. Not to be outdone, Caroline Astor commissioned Hunt to build the J.J. Astor château at 34th Street and Fifth Avenue.

The great urban châteaux enjoyed but a fleeting moment in the sun. Had they been anywhere but New York, the great metropolis that continually reinvents itself, these magnificent houses might have found another life—perhaps as offices for charitable foundations. After New York recast itself as a hub of railroads, during the turn of the century, rising real estate values would doom them. In less than 50 years, the grand homes were torn down to allow greater density construction on their sites. Alva’s “Petit Château” was sold to a real estate developer in 1926 and demolished the next year. Though the beautiful buildings of Indiana Limestone may no longer be seen in New York, George Vanderbilt’s mansion, “Biltmore,” in Asheville, North Carolina, remains as a monument to the era.

Richard Morris Hunt became a member of influential society with his distinguished career in design. He went on to design great public buildings that are still erect today, including the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the pedestal for the Statue of Liberty, and the New York Tribune Building. Later in his life, Hunt designed the Administration Building for the 1893 Columbian Exposition in Chicago. In this great collaboration with Frederick Law Olmstead, he gave America the richness of Beaux-Arts design. Today, the site of Alva’s château is occupied by a 39-story building constructed in 1957. Extensive renovations in 2022 will create a bright commercial and office space with 11-by-19-foot, single-pane glass windows. The architecture of New York has continued its reinventions through the decades.

Bob Kirchman is an architectural illustrator who lives in Augusta County, Virginia, with his wife Pam. He teaches studio art to students in the Augusta Christian Educators Homeschool Co-op.

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine.

The U.S. Capitol Rotunda is one of the most iconic spaces in the nation. High above its well-trod floors, the dome features a glorious fresco painting, replete with symbols of American democracy. Suspended 180 feet in the air, “The Apotheosis of Washington” is the master work of American artist Constantino Brumidi. The fresco was completed in 1865, commemorating the end of the Civil War. The painting depicts George Washington, flanked by female figures representing Liberty and Victory, ascending to the heavens. Appropriately, the term apotheosis means the glorification and deification of an individual, and Washington was just as revered in the 19th century as he is today.

Washington wears a presidential suit while he is draped in a purple fabric. Brumidi subtly connected the president to Roman generals, who wore purple cloaks when they returned victorious from battle. The rainbow arch at Washington’s feet is also a Classical symbol of peace and victory. Liberty wears a Phrygian cap, an ancient Roman symbol of freedom. Throughout the fresco, the artist meticulously created an intricate iconographical scheme connecting the United States to the immortal values of freedom and democracy through ancient Greek and Roman aesthetics.

The artist, Constantino Brumidi, was an apt choice of painter: He was an immigrant of both Greek and Italian descent, and he served as a cultural conduit between the antique cradle of democracy and the New World. A master of the classical style of painting, Brumidi helped bring this important symbolism to the United States. Well-versed in Italian Renaissance art, he also modeled many of his figures on examples created by Raphael centuries prior.

The artist masterfully connected Washington and American values to these timeless visual motifs. The significance of “The Apotheosis of Washington,” despite its title, extends well beyond the esteemed first president—it exalts values that are significant to the United States and to the American way of life. The six scenes that complete the fresco are Freedom (War), Science, Marine, Commerce, Mechanics, and Agriculture, which are detailed below. The fresco also pays homage to the country’s origins and history: Thirteen young women, each with a star atop her head, encircle Washington, Liberty, and Victory. Notably, several figures turn their backs to Washington, symbolizing the states that seceded from the union. Two figures brandish a banner that reads “E Pluribus Unum” (meaning “out of many, one”), which is the motto of the United States. The motto appears on the Great Seal and has appeared on U.S. currency since 1795.

Freedom

Lining the perimeter of the fresco are the six aforementioned concepts, represented allegorically. Freedom is featured directly below Washington, reminding viewers of his role in securing the nation’s independence. Freedom is portrayed as a woman, specifically Columbia, who is the female personification of the United States (hence the capital, District of Columbia). Columbia wields a sword and a red, white, and blue shield as she vanquishes tyranny and kingly rule (symbolized by the red mantle famously donned by monarchs and emperors). A bald eagle carrying arrows and thunderbolts assists Freedom in her triumph.

Science

Science is symbolized by Minerva, the Roman goddess of wisdom. A profound deity, she also represents crafts, the arts, technology, and inspiration. In this scene, she is joined by several prominent American scientists and inventors, including Benjamin Franklin, Samuel Morse, and Robert Fulton. She gestures toward an electrical generator, and several children—the next generation of scientists—look on. Brumidi emphasized that innovation is an integral part of the American spirit.

Marine

The next scene, Marine, celebrates the importance of maritime trade and the ocean itself. Neptune, Roman god of the sea, is identified by his trident and crown of seaweed. He rides a sea chariot, alluding to oceanic crossings. Venus, the Roman goddess of love who was born from the sea, holds and helps lay the transatlantic telegraph cables that were being laid at the time of the fresco’s completion. These cables revolutionized intercontinental communications between the United States and Europe.

Commerce

Marine gives way to the next scene: Commerce. Brumidi strategically placed these two scenes side-by-side as they are inextricably linked. Mercury symbolizes commerce, and he wears his iconic winged petasus (brimmed hat) and shoes and carries his caduceus. The caduceus represents trade, negotiations, and communications—all necessary tenets of commerce. On the right, the anchor and sailors lead into Marine, highlighting the growing importance of international trade as part of American commerce.

Mechanics

Vulcan, Roman god of fire, the forge, and smithery, presides over the scene Mechanics. He holds a blacksmith’s hammer and stands at an anvil; his right foot rests upon a cannon situated near a pile of cannonballs. Behind Vulcan, there is a steam engine—one of the most significant mechanical innovations of the 18th century, which was indispensable to life and industry in the 19th century. Brumidi again created thoughtful continuity, as mechanics—and with it, industry—is connected to commerce.

Agriculture

Lastly, Ceres, Roman goddess of agriculture, graces the scene of the same name, Agriculture. She holds a wreath of wheat (as she is also the goddess of grain crops) and a cornucopia, symbol of abundance. Ceres sits atop a McCormick mechanical reaper, connecting agriculture to mechanical innovation. A figure personifying Young America wears a liberty cap and holds the reins of the horses. Flora, Roman goddess of nature, flowers, and the springtime, picks flowers in the foreground. Her inclusion is a nod toward fecundity and renewed life.

This vibrant, intense, and complex composition establishes a profound connection between Classical aesthetics and the newly emerging American style. Brumidi created a reflective synthesis between the Classical and the American, an ingenious manifestation of the international Neoclassical style that is sometimes referred to as the Federal style in the United States. Notable examples of Neoclassical architecture in the United States include the White House and Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello estate. In American painting, ancient Greek and Roman motifs were reinterpreted for the dawning of a new era. American artists, philosophers, and political theorists revered the democratic values that flourished in antiquity and sought to emulate the artwork of the period as a way to affirm the visuals and ideals of American democracy.

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine. 

“The Capitol ought to be upon a scale far superior to anything in this Country.” —George Washington to Thomas Jefferson in 1792

James Hoban was born in 1762, in Callan, Ireland. As a boy, he was an apprentice to a carpenter and a wheelwright. He later trained in the neoclassical style of architecture at the Dublin Society School. Just after the Revolutionary War, Hoban immigrated to South Carolina. There, he designed the old state Capitol building in Columbia. At the suggestion of George Washington, Hoban entered the competition for the design of the President’s House in 1792. Not only did he win the design competition, but he received the commission to build the house as well.

The President’s House in America was inspired by Leinster House in Dublin, where the Irish Parliament meets, as well as by James Gibbs’s “Book of Architecture” (published in 1728). The presidential mansion would be constructed between 1793 and 1801. At the same time, James Hoban was also enlisted as one of the supervisors of the construction of the United States Capitol.

The Capitol was the design of physician and amateur architect Dr. William Thornton. He won the design competition in 1793. The prize was $500 and a building lot in the new federal city. Thornton had been born in the British West Indies and studied medicine at the University of Aberdeen. He became a United States citizen in 1787, moved to Washington in 1794, and was later appointed head of the Patent Office by Thomas Jefferson.

The north wing of the Capitol was constructed first. The Capitol and the President’s House were both built of Aquia Creek sandstone, quarried near Stafford, Virginia. The government-owned quarry provided most of the stone for the early construction in Washington. Though the soft, porous rock was not ideal for constructing great public buildings, it was a wise and economical choice at the time. Rising above a pastoral landscape, the President’s House and the Capitol represented the promise of the new republic.

On August 24, 1814, British troops marched into Washington and set fire to both the President’s House and the Capitol Building. Fortunately, Benjamin Henry Latrobe, who actually supervised the building of the Capitol, had specified fireproof materials inside. Though ravaged by fire, the structure remained—”

This article was originally published in American Essence magazine.