Though I have, on other occasions, noted the unavoidable consequence of having taken on such an ambitious restoration on such a massive structure. I have pointed out the inevitable; as we reverse the ravages of time, as we smooth the wrinkles, shore up the foundation, and secure the roof to protect it from the elements; as we bring the outward and inner beauty of our house back to the original glory of its’ inception, There is a price for this process of aging our home in reverse. While we remove the evidence of years passed, time has not actually reversed, but in fact, marches relentlessly forward and has taken its own toll on our human bodies, with seventeen years of hard physical labor, stress, the rare accident, and the normal process of aging. As our house grows younger, so we grow older.
We both feel as though we barely know our own country well enough to be satisfied and move on to explore other countries further afield. Though we thoroughly enjoy the tales that friends and family bring back from such adventures from Europe, the Middle East, and beyond, we are still excited about exploring the back yard of this country. In addition, there are so many fantastic towns we have visited that we prefer to go back to them over and over, each time getting to know them better and each time discovering more wonderful things about the places we have come to love. As a result, we are quite “boring”, preferring to make repeated trips to New York City, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, Charleston, and Savannah, with other destinations further South punctuating our itineraries: St. Augustine, Winter Park, Ft. Lauderdale, and Tampa Florida have become more familiar to us.
Ironically, when we do take time off from restoring the house to travel and explore a bit of the East Coast, it always turns into a “research” trip anyway. We wander the halls of Tiffany’s masterpiece, Flagler College in St. Augustine FL, or the Turkish-inspired, former Tampa Bay hotel, now the University of Tampa campus. We visit such grand residences as Ca d’Zan in Sarasota FL, the Biltmore in Asheville NC, the Hay House in Macon GA, Olana in Hudson NY, and Chateau-Sur-Mer in Newport RI.
In fact, to the puzzlement of family and friends, we often choose to spend our vacation days on “work-cations” designed to use the leisure time we have earned, using it as productive time tackling projects on the house. It is satisfying to look back on seventeen years’ of dedicated service and see the transition of this home from a tired old white elephant, to a proud residence of beauty, glory, and with the promise of a grand future. Another 150 years will pass, whether or not we acknowledge that it will do so, and whether this house survives into that future depends upon the choices we make today. What projects to initiate, what materials to use, how to get the job done so that it will be the most long-lasting, require the least maintenance, and be the most aesthetically pleasing, and all the while trying to balance all three of these factors while being as cost-conscious as possible, so as to have funds left over for additional necessary projects.
One thing is certain, time will again slowly begin to erode the work that we have done. The roof will need another major overhaul in time, though I am confident that the Vermont slates that have protected it so far will still be a long way from having to be replaced. Meanwhile, other materials will have to be replaced many times over in the span of a century. If we have applied our knowledge and talents well, we will have achieved a buffering effect so that Father Time will be more kind to this home than he was for the first 150 years of its residence on Earth. It is our goal that when this house has seen three centuries, the task of restoring or maintaining it will not be so daunting nor so costly as to be prohibitive and signal the death of this home. By sacrificing our own meagre time and energy toward this house, we have the potential to launch it into a longevity that it would never have been able to acquire without our efforts.
Consider that every year that passes, a spate of homes from the Victorian Era will meet their demise, either through neglect, “progress”, fire, or abuse. Some will be taken down on purpose, some will fall to the regret of their owners or communities. Many will disappear without anyone even noticing, as their remote locations hide the creeping wild that will reclaim their parts. From the Earth these houses came, and from the Earth they will return; the lumber, bricks, iron nails, and plaster walls, and all the natural materials that these homes were built from, will one day be returned to the Earth that owned them first, having allowed the humans who built those homes to merely borrow its resources for a time. Our restoration work is merely paying interest to the Earth to temporarily stay the inevitable repayment of that loan taken out generations ago.
While we mainly invest our financial resources in the nurturing and growth of our fellow humans through charitable contributions, we spend our personal time and physical efforts on this particular house in order to inspire current and future generations. How can one say that anything is impossible when three generations ago, without gas engines, without heavy rigging, without even the benefit of major advances in engineering and materials, a cast of hundreds was able to raise such an edifice using the clay from the ground as bricks, the trees from the forest as lumber, and the labor of strong backs. Determined attitudes, and sheer ingenuity of human minds worked together to create a tribute to dignity and style; a product of hard work, dreams, and aspirations. That their creation can continue to capture people’s attention today, compelling them to stop their cars and take photos, that it can inspire brides incorporate it into their wedding photo shoots, and produce awe in random passers-by who cannot help but pause and marvel at it’s architectural details. With all of our “advances” in science, technology, materials, engineering, architecture, and design, very few modern houses inspire such a response; that basic pull of human beings toward things of beauty, quality, and balance. I want future generations to do what the generation who built this house did — I want them to see beyond their perceived limitations, to think creatively to solve problems that seem overwhelming, to engage the help of other professions to work together toward grand mutual goals, and to see in themselves the greatness that they are capable of achieving.
To that end, we feel that for THIS house, for OUR vision of it, and its future, there is a palpable need to keep it “real”; authentic. While this approach is our singleminded destination, we know it is not right for every family, for every budget, or for every house. We would never judge, criticize, or disavow any who chose a different approach; any renovation plan that is right for them is the path they should take. I only state this as an explanation for why we have done the things that we do, for it is a mystery to some as to why we spend so many hours perched on a ladder scraping paint with dental tools. It is perplexing to others as to why we go to such lengths to re-create long-destroyed decorative elements that photographic evidence brings to light. And it is with an acknowledged nod to insanity that we have spent as many man-hours on this home as we have.
Though some would argue that we are merely “gilding the lily” in some aspects of providing authenticity in our decorative scheme, the finishes we have chosen are typical of homes of this caliber during the early period of its life. Many of the choices seem over-the-top simply because people have become so unfamiliar with the materials and patterns, styles and techniques of yesteryear, that they appear to be almost too showy. The post-depression world of bland colors and simplicity over the excesses of yesteryear have put whitewashed-colored glasses over all of our eyes. As even the birth of inexpensive and color photography was too late to allow us a peek into everyday life of these homes as they were conceived. Alas, even the masterpieces of the Victorian Era have few photographic records documenting their youth and their prime.
In fact, we have done nothing more than transport items of the period and installed them to replace the ones that this house lost to time. Take the mantel mirrors, for example. While we were fortunate that the paired mantels and matching overmantel mirrors for the double parlors were still in residence, albeit one moved from its’ original location, the remainder of the mantels had long-since lost their ornamental crowning overmantel mirrors. It was traditional in homes with such large rooms to have a large glass over the mantel, not only to reflect the meagre light from gasoliers, but also to provide a focal point for the room. Mantel mirrors were typically designed to reach close to the ceiling for maximum reflective abilities, as well as for visual impact.
The dining room overmantel mirror does exactly that. Discovered at a D.C. auction, it had the Federal Eagle emblazoned in its crest with the starred and striped shield boldly fastened to its breast, while the traditional quiver of arrows is clutched in the left talons, and the olive branch clutched in the right. While we are certain that this eagle was commissioned for installation in a government building, we are unsure of its’ original placement. At the time of purchase it appeared as though all of the gold leaf had been stripped from the molded gesso, and the dirty white surface simply needed to be cleaned and possibly re-gilded.
It was a bit surprising, then, when we began to gently wipe the gessoed surface, there began to show traces of gilding underneath what we had assumed was the base material of gesso. We began to dig deeper, and discovered some areas where the gilding also had worn off, and scraped down to the surface beneath the old gilding to find an even bigger surprise. The base material was not, in fact, a traditional molded gesso frame. Such frames are made out of a mixture of whitening (a chalk-like material), linseed oil, animal glue, and rosin which is pressed into molds and applied onto wooden frames. Such frames were mass-produced for the new middle- and upper-class of the gilded age. This mirror was actually completely hand-carved out of wood. While we didn’t dare strip down the remains of the dulled gold leaf to find out what type of wood, the grain of wood can clearly be seen in areas where the gilding is gone altogether. This prompted us to entirely remove the layer of white that had been placed over the old gilding. Our best guess is that it was a milk paint, applied in preparation for the entire piece to be re-gilded; a project that ultimately never materialized. While the hours, days, weeks, and months spent with q-tips and cotton balls applied in earnest to remove the white coating were tedious indeed — here I jest, because Tom actually did all of the work, and I merely cleaned up after each of his sessions of “having at” the mirror. It was a pleasure to see this monster finally removed from my kitchen table so that we could once again use the table for its intended purpose: which purpose appears to be to function as the kitchen workshop, apparently, as I have had fewer than four dinners at my kitchen table in the last 25 Years.
From State House to Our House, this mirror reflects the sentiments of the Gilded Age, with its patriotism, American foliage borders, and classical decorative elements. We have left the aged surface rather than re-gild the piece, just as we have left the chandelier in this room with traces of the old gilding, dulled down against the background of original bronze. While the objects we place in the house are of the period, it is not offensive that their surfaces reflect the years spent in useful application. Our goal is not to have everything looking shiny and brand-new, but rather to remind the viewers of just how much time has passed to showcase how expertly the craftsmen of the past created their masterpieces for maximum resilience and durability.
Where evidence of faux-graining existed, we replaced the multi-layered painted woodwork with the original faux-graining, removing years of color choices heaped one upon the other. In order to do the faux-painted surfaces justice, we had to take the surface down to the original wood, as the original artist wold have worked with the same canvas. It would have been sloppy to have simply painted the faux-graining on top of such grossly disfigured woodwork, the crisp edges of the delicate designs softened and obscured.
The use of traditional wall coverings, as well, was guided not only by the evidence found in the house, but by the design sensibilities of the era. Evidence of Lincrusta was found in fragments and the ghost behind 1960s pressed-board panelling. Existing Lincrusta panels still remained in-situ above the doorways of the main grand hall. Fragments of painted embossed molded wallpaper were found behind a corner which had been walled—off to hide a later-added waste-pipe in the corner of the rear parlor, the same pattern was pictured in an 1880s photo of the rear parlor. Therefore it was not a stretch to place anaglypta (molded, embossed wallpaper) in the double parlors as a tribute to the long-lost original. Indeed, there are so many applications of fabric on the walls of Victorian homes across America that it was easy to imagine the noisy echoing music room softened and muted by fabric on the walls with a thick batting behind it.
While Bradbury & Bradbury wallpaper takes its cues from period papers, and often incorporates ceiling patterns, it was also very typical to paint the patterns on your ceiling. It was also not uncommon to combine both wallpaper and painted patterns on the ceiling with some outstanding results. Painting the ceiling designs gave more versatility to the interior designer who would then only be hemmed in by their own imagination. In fact, many designers would create an elaborate series of borders painted on your ceilings to match the other dominant colors in the room; the upholstery, the carpeting, even the paintings. The versatility of using paint colors allowed for an infinite range of colors to mix and match to create a perfect harmony within the room.
Though one day we will have to pass the care of this survivor on to a new generation, we will do so knowing that we have done the best we possibly could, and keep our fingers crossed that this house will be one of the lucky ones to see the twenty-second century as a functioning home, worthy of having tender loving care heaped upon it to continue on its journey through time to tell not only our tale, likely as nameless, faceless onetime caretakers, but to also tell the tale of all who have touched it, and most especially those who created it.
Carla Minosh
While I am new to Blogging, I have always enjoyed sharing the stories of my crazy life, so this is simply another medium to share, and hopefully entertain and enrich others. Perhaps you can feel thankful that your life is so steady and predictable after reading these, perhaps you can appreciate the insanity and wish you had more of it in your life. Either way, the crazy tales are all true (to the best of my spotty recollection) and simply tell the tale of a life full of exploration, enthusiasm, curiosity and hard work. I hope you all enjoy being a part of the journey.
From the Earth these houses came, and from the Earth they will return; the lumber, bricks, iron nails, and plaster walls, and all the natural materials that these homes were built from, will one day be returned to the Earth that owned them first, having allowed the humans who built those homes to merely borrow its resources for a time. Our restoration work is merely paying interest to the Earth to temporarily stay the inevitable repayment of that loan taken out generations ago.
Brought tears! You and Tom make the perfect pair of talents, bringing this beautiful girl back to life and being able to express it so poignantly. Thank you so much, for what you are called to do. Suella Howard
Through the full restoration, you've learned so much, not only about your mansion; but about the Victorian era including wall treatments, hand-painted and metal ceilings, lighting, windows, window treatments, porches, iron work, wood work, stairways, paint types and colors, stained glass, tile, plumbing, faux painting, ornate mirrors and chandeliers, doorways, pools, slate roofing, rare fine art, antiques, auctions and antique heating systems. Thank you for sharing your awesome journey and your enthusiasm and knowledge with your huge network of family, friends, and neighbors. This has definitely been an epic journey for us ALL! Congratulations for weathering it all to this glorious time of applying finishing touches. You have invested in history, beauty, art, and preservation and, through the coming years, may you experience the joy of completing such a wondrous project!
Carla, you don't post often, but when you do, it's a doozy! Your house is truly a masterpiece not only of architecture, but of yours and Tom's restoration. I've spent the weekend stripping paint from some surfaces while applying it to others, and your post boosted my inspiration level from "warning low" level to 100% full. I think I'll go strip another window or two before I call it a day…
I've been following your journey for awhile now and my goodness I wish I could do what you've done (though being a 22 year old old apartment dweller with limited funds in Orlando makes this difficult haha)! I can only hope that in decades to come this home will retain the immense restoration efforts that have been put into it. I'm also glad to hear you've gotten to visit Winter Park! It really is really a gem just outside a very tourist-centric area.
(Just a quick side note, I believe the picture in front of Marble House is actually in front of the Breakers)
What an incredible post. Your work, your care and attention (to the house and the posts). I love reading and seeing this.
Squee!!!!!!!! Another post!
I had to smile reading this: "We wander the halls of Tiffany’s masterpiece, Flagler College in St. Augustine FL, or the Turkish-inspired, former Tampa Bay hotel, now the University of Tampa campus. We visit such grand residences as Ca d’Zan in Sarasota FL, the Biltmore in Asheville NC, the Hay House in Macon GA, Olana in Hudson NY, and Chateau-Sur-Mer in Newport RI."
For, save the Hay House and Olana, I have also been to all these amazing places.
The Federal mirror? Unbelievable. Just stunning.
It's always such a treat seeing the Before/After images. The latter helps confirm that you and Tom are, indeed, insane, but the insanity manifests in beauty and quality. Keep up with the insanity!
In addition to admiring all your work, I admire, too, your writing. It's always a pleasure reading your posts.
In March, I begin Year 5 of my big ol' house restoration. When will it be done? Well, not anytime soon but hopefully before I depart in 2049!
Much love to you both!