Sotheby's in the South: Charleston Day 3

With day 2 behind us, and a little more tired from the activities than expected, I decided to make day 3 a little bit less full so that there would be no issues with missing planes, or running out of energy at the very end.  On our agenda for the day were 2 historic houses: the Nathaniel Russell House for the morning, followed by some free time to explore the city, then touring the Aiken-Rhett House in the afternoon.  We were to meet curator Brandy Culp at the Russell house that morning, but some bad weather delayed her in Texas.  In her place, we had a fabulous tour of the house with Bridget O'Brien, historic Charleston's museum coordinator, who deserves a lot of credit for stepping in (at the 11th hour no less) and taking us through the house and collections.

Unlike most of the museums in the northeast, where southern furniture and decorative arts are largely ignored, the Historic Charleston collections are packed with great objects.  And unlike period rooms, where I always feel a bit like I am moving through a series of dioramas, the museum-house allows you to experience the the architectural setting of the environment as a constantly changing backdrop.  This means that you see much more than a typical period room environment can provide: the way that light changes in the rooms, the fluid relationship between interior and exterior which opens up views and vistas on the yard and town, and the acoustic properties of the space, the shift in sounds that each room and transitional space brings.  As always, one of the highlights of the tour was getting to see the storage area--this type of access gives a good sense of what the museum holds, and always features items of interest to our group.  Bridget's tour was no exception, she took us into the storage spaces, discussed the various strategies of presentation of historical materials that the foundation employs, and gave us a preview of their upcoming work.

Knowing that I had some time to spare before our next house museum, I walked through town, looking into antique stores, grabbing some coffee, and wandering up towards the Aiken Rhett house.  Along the way, however, I made two stops: the Confederate Museum in Charleston followed by the Joseph Manigault House.


The Confederate Museum was not at all what I expected.  Frankly, I didn't know what to expect, but there was no amount of preparation for what I encountered.  It is a small, densely packed space, with cases of exhibits, paintings on the wall, cannons, maps, and uniforms.  What struck me as odd (and admittedly, I am a bit of an outsider here) was the complete lack of any didactic material.  My impression was that the museum took for granted your knowledge of the civil war, assumed a familiarity with soldier's and officer's names, and thus decided to provide labels that were informational / factual (i.e., here is what you are looking at) rather than explanatory.  I was particularly struck by the lack of mention of slavery throughout the museum, with the exception of an urban slave tag on display.  Perhaps I am cynical, but I took the label to claim that slaves were sometimes allowed to work, as if somehow this was enough explanation.  What happened to the wages, the treatment of the slaves by their masters, and indeed the whole question of servitude was neatly sidestepped.


By contrast, the Joseph Manigault house was a little more clear in its intention, and more didactic in the presentation of materials to the public.  Part of this is achieved by requiring a guide for all tours, who leads you through the home's history, introduces you to the families involved, and provides information about the pieces in the collection.   Although in some sense your experience is dependent on the guide (and thus not guaranteed or necessarily repeatable), the guide I had was pleasant and knowledgable.

The museum features one of the nicer portraits by Swiss Painter Jeremiah Theus that I saw in Charleston, as well as beautiful gardens and architecture.  The collection is not quite a strong (on the whole) as the Museum's Heyward Washington House, but it does provide an additional layer of depth towards understanding the cultural, decorative, and architectural heritage of the city, and should be on anyone's list of museum to see who visits the city.


The last stop of the day for the class was the Aiken Rhett House, which provides a stunning contrast to Historic Charleston's other property (the Nathaniel Russell House) and shows the true depth of the foundation's didactic tools, as well as the range of its mission.  Unlike the Nathaniel Russell house, where all tours are guided, the Aiken Rhett House is an audio tour, and one which (I have to confess) I didn't hear.  The goal in the house was to have the students take the tour, then reconvene with curator Brandy Culp and me, to debrief.  What did they like about the tour?  What worked?  What didn't?  What did they want more of?  Less of?  In some ways, this (in addition to broadening the range of culture we cover) is the fundamental goal of this year: speaking to your audience.  While the students took the tour, I examined one of the museum's paintings, and then sat in on a conservation meeting discussing possible steps and strategies.

After the conservation meeting, but before our debriefing, I talked to the students briefly about the conservation plans, some of the issues with the painting, as well as the logistical issues of the conservation. Then, I went to the basement, awaited the students and the debriefing / question period began.  I was incredibly surprised by the depth of the students questions, the issues they raised, and the thoughtful critiques (both positive and negative) they gave of their tour.  While it would be difficult to say there was consensus on the issues, it was remarkable to me how keenly the students hit on major points, how sharp their eyes and observations were, and how much they had absorbed in the short time they had spent in the program.  One of the reasons the program has stressed connecting with audiences as a theme, is that it is a skill applicable to a wide range of careers open to students upon graduation.  Whether you decide to write, pursue a PhD, sell objects, work in museum education, work in development, or provide consultation services to collectors, the fundamental task of connecting with the audience remains the same.  Without this skill, the ability not just to repeat the facts, but to forge a connection and understand (anticipate even) the needs and desires of the audience, remains a paramount indicator of future success in the art world.  Based on what I saw in Charleston, and in Boston, and in the classroom, I have great confidence that this year's group of students will do exceptionally well.  

Charleston: Sotheby's in the South Day 2

If day one was supposed to relax and acclimate the students, then day 2 was supposed to give them a total Charleston Experience.  We had a rather ambitious schedule to follow with the following events planned:

1. City Hall Portrait Collection
2. Drayton Hall
3. Lunch
4. Gibbes Museum of Art
5. Heyward Washington House
6. Charleston Silver Vault reception

We started early, and arrived at City Hall right about 9:00 AM.  Once we made it through the security check and metal detector (there was a wand at this one in addition to the walk through) we took the elevator up to the second floor to see the portraits.  This might be one of the hidden gems in Charleston: I have only been twice but each time there were few people.  Considering the collection boasts important portraits by John Trumbull, Charles Willson Peale, John Vanderlyn, Samuel F. B. Morse, and GPA Healy, it is a wonder this is not on more people's radar.  We were met by the tour guide, who is an eager and lively student of history.  She knows the figures in the painting well, is versed in Charleston history, and has a dramatic flair to her presentation that is often amusing.  She appears to be quite taken with Healy's portrait General Beauregard (seen in the image below), who apparently was regarded throughout Charleston as quite handsome.

 Just below the painting is a case containing Beauregard's sword--the very one seen in the image. 

The centerpiece of collection is the portrait of Washington by John Trumbull, and the story associated with its commission.  Originally, the portrait of Washington at the Battle of Trenton (presently at Yale) was delivered to the city but refused.  Why?  Well, the rumor is that Charleston wanted a picture of Washington with some connection to Charleston, and that the Battle of Trenton (as important as it was) just didn't appeal to them.  David Bjelajac, in American Art: A Cultural History states that the town thought Washington looked too severe--not approachable or welcoming enough--but the guide tells a different story.  According to this version, the positioning of the rear facing horse (its most notable attribute above the skyline and the mayor and councilmen pictured in the middle ground of the painting) was Trumbull's revenge (as the painting is sometimes referred to in Charleston).  

We made it through the galleries and then were on our way back to the hotel to catch the bus that would take us to Drayton Hall.

Drayton Hall is the finest piece of Palladian architecture built in the United States, and it is difficult to imagine the impact this would have made upon visitors arriving in the 18th century.  Situated along the Ashley River about 15 miles outside of Charleston, it was built for John Drayton from 1738-42.  We arrived a bit early, and after a quick jaunt through the gift shop met up with Carter Hudgins, the Director of Preservation and Education.  Carter's work at Drayton Hall is exceptional and the discoveries that they have made there--from fine pottery the likes of which are not seen anywhere else in the colonies, to remains of the original porticoes that flanked the house originally--will force a dramatic reevaluation about life and culture in the southern colonies.  Although the house has no furniture, he brought with him photographs of what is known from the family and let us know where it could be seen in Charleston.

  

From there, we joined up with Debbi Zimmerman, Drayton Hall's Group Tour Coordinator who took us through the house.  It's quite difficult to describe the impression the house makes upon you when you enter: it is at once majestic and tragic.  The majesty of the rooms and the intricacy and expense of the carving are overwhelming.  I suppose it is the home's emptiness, the quietness, and the realization that people do not build with this degree of elegance anymore that accounts for the tragic side of it.  In fact, the house is so beautiful unfurnished, so elegantly planned and realized, that it is difficult to imagine it furnished.  The effect must gave been overwhelming when it was occupied.

Although the rooms can be generally divided, by the amount of decoration and their location in the plan, into private and public spaces, the attention to detailing, the carvings, and the ceilings make each space individual and quite special.  

The carvings in the great room on the first floor are impressive and original to the house's construction.  The alternating floral motif used in the frieze of triglyphs and metopes creates a pleasing rhythm that carries throughout the room.

This ceiling is later plaster work and a good example of Drayton Hall's mission to preserve and stabilize the structure and its many layers of history rather than attempting to strip it back to a single interpreted point in time.  The result is a complex and woven history that allows interpreters to discuss the building as an original structure without ignoring its one history of use and even modification.    

No one seemed entirely certain what the overmantel carving was supposed to represent: a fox? a boar?  Likely taken from an English pattern book, the carving nonetheless testifies to the strong ties that rural plantations had with high style English design.

Light and sound are among the most important features of a building that virtual tours, and slides, and even books cannot convey.  One reason we make it a point to travel is because architecture, perhaps more so that any of the other arts, demands that you experience it in order to make sense of it.  Sitting in this room, the sense of balance, the proportions and the scale are not just seen, they are felt and absorbed. 

It's easy to overlook small details, or to leave a room wondering how exactly the sense of a totally designed space was conveyed to you from the moment you entered.  The carving of the volutes, the vegetal forms that spiral outward, the egg and dart molding and the central rosette--these are the types of things that, even when not remarked upon, help to define a space and aid in shaping the impression of a space from the moment you enter.  That level of detailing, whether in a carved capital or a stair riser, is essential to the building's effect.  

It was, in many respects, a perfect morning at Drayton Hall.  A bit chilly (especially for the locals) but clear skies and bright sun.  This is a view looking down towards the main entrance over a circular earth mound that was created during the dredging of ponds in the Victorian period.  These layers of history are particularly well preserved at Drayton Hall and allow for a much broader discussion of social and cultural history than in many institutions.

If there was one bad thing about Drayton Hall, it is this: we had to leave.  One could easily spend far more time there than our group did, but the day was progressing, lunch was necessary, and the Gibbes Museum of Art awaited.

The Gibbes is a lovely museum, and I say this knowing that when we visited only a part of it was open as exhibitions were changing.  Even with that in mind, their exhibition "The Charleston Story" is a beautiful and worthwhile addition to any visit to the city.  The museum has strong holdings: a beautiful portrait of Thomas Middleton by Benjamin West, some lovely works by Henry Benbridge, a delicate and charming pastel by Henrietta Derring Johnston, and a number of paintings by Charleston's Jeremiah Theus, a swiss born painter who settled in the city in the mid 18th century.  The surprise for me was the stunning portrait of Robert Gilmor, jr. by Thomas Sully after Sir Thomas Lawrence.  Even though Sully's work is a copy, he captures the sense of light, the crispness of the collar, the moisture in his subject's eye's to such a degree that it is shocking.  The figure's anatomy has more strength and structure than I usually associate with Sully's portraits of this period, and it is among the finest paintings I have seen by him.  There is a depth and clarity to the work that leaves no doubt that Sully is a masterful painter and solid technician.

From the Gibbes we made our way down to the Heyward Washington House, one of the two historic properties owned by the Charleston Museum, and as luck would have it, Grahame Long was sitting outside and eager to take us through the collection.  Built in 1772 by Daniel Heyward, the house was rented to George Washington in 1791 for a week, and has been known ever since by its dual name.  It would be unthinkable to be in Charleston and not see the house, especially since the collection includes pieces original to Drayton Hall.  

The star of the house (aside from the European pieces the Drayton's owned) is undoubtedly the Holmes-Edwards bookcase.  Much of what we know about the bookcase and its attribution to the Pfeninger Shop in Charleston is due to an article by Thomas Savage that appeared in the Chipstone Journal American Furniture.  Far from being something produced in a minor way at the periphery, the Holmes-Edwards bookcase is a testament to the skill of southern craftsmen, and also to the diverse nature of immigration in the south that helped to shape its culture.  At various points in its history, the bookcase was believed to be English which underscores the types of regional bias that permeated scholarship.  The unspoken implication, of course, was that Charleston was too rural, too southern to make a case this fine.  The evidence indicates otherwise.

We finished the day with a delightful wine and cheese reception hosted by Al and Charlotte Crabtree of the Silver Vault of Charleston.  In addition to being Charleston's premier dealers of American and Continental Silver, the Crabtrees are gracious hosts, kind with their knowledge of silver, eager to discuss business questions that students had, and allowed us to handle pieces and examine them closely.  In addition, Al is a talented silversmith and restorer, with a broad knowledge of the history of silver, the curators in the field, and the auction world too.  It was exceptionally kind of them to welcome us into their shop, and a perfect end to a long and full day.

Charleston: Sotheby's in the South Day 1

It's become increasingly aware to me in my time in New York City how the location of our studies determines, at least in part, the types of objects we discuss.  One of this year's initiatives was to broaden the discussion, to pay more attention to regional productions outside of the main centers (like Boston, Newport, Philadelphia, and New York in the Colonial period) so that students emerge with a better understanding of the textures and complexity of American culture.  While many at the Met still shudder to remember Joseph Downs' 1949 statement that "little of artistic merit was made south of Baltimore," one might reasonably ask what is being done to correct that stance.  I should point out too, that the bias Downs articulated was neither exclusive or particular to the Met, it seems part of a broader, largely unspoken notion that impacted collecting habits throughout the northeast.  Unfortunately, it is still virtually impossible to see any quantity of southern furniture in New York City (or Boston, or Philadelphia for that matter); this is a serious lacuna in these collections.  Fortunately, it provides an excellent reason for our program to travel south, out of the reach of Manhattan's autumn, and into Charleston.


Arriving as we did in the late morning, the first day was designed to allow students to get their bearings, get situated in the hotel, eat at one of the many fine restaurants Charleston has to offer, and then gather at the Charleston Museum for an overview of the art and culture of the region.  I'll be honest: this should be the first stop for everyone who goes to Charleston.  The museum is pleasant, incredibly informative, and acclimates visitors to the culture of Charleston perfectly.  The permanent exhibition in Lowcountry History Hall takes you through the history of Charleston starting with the settlement patterns, the regional agricultural concerns, demonstrating how the economy developed, details Charleston's involvement in the Civil War, and functions as the perfect primer for any visit.


We then met with Grahame Long, Curator of History, in the Loeblein Gallery of Charleston Silver.  The museum's collection is tightly focused and contains some really unexpected gems.  Want to see George Washington's christening cup?  They have it.  They also have a wide range of objects--from Colonial Gorgets, to 20th century spoon dies, to contemporary pieces like the beautiful bleu cheese bowl by Charleston silversmith Alfred Crabtree.  Grahame Long is exceptionally knowledgeable and accessible, and explained the purpose of the installation, the goals of the collection, and brought objects out for the students to handle.

 Probably the highlight of the silver gallery was when Grahame removed a number of slave tags from an envelope, placed them atop the vitrine and asked the students which ones they thought were authentic, and which ones they felt were fake.  

As it turns out, all of them were fake, which was good as none of the students were wearing gloves.  What ensued, however, was a discussion of authenticity: how does the museum guard against fakes coming in, what do they do when they find fakes, and how does one go about making the assessment.  Interestingly, the museum keeps fakes like this, which forms a useful tool in examining and authenticating works.  It also allows them to use these objects as teaching tools, informing both the public, students, and even collectors about things to be wary of.  From the silver gallery, we headed back into storage to see the nuts and bolts of the museum's operation.


The Charleston Museum is in fact the country's oldest.  Founded in 1773, essentially as a satellite to the British Museum, their mission has evolved over time, and much of that evidence remains in their storage facilities.  While there we saw virtually everything: from Ivory Billed Woodpeckers, to Demming and Bulkley Tables, to their "wet storage" rooms--a collection of specimens in bottles, ranging from fish to snakes to unmentionable things kept in locked boxes.  

It was fascinating.  Disturbing at times, but fascinating nonetheless.  Where else in America could you spend the morning looking at George Washington's christening cup, the afternoon seeing extinct birds beautifully preserved, and your free time seeing squid, fish, and animals from around the world still preserved?

From wet storage we moved back into the dry things, and were treated to the museums impressive collections of material culture.  One thing students began to understand was how the mission of the museum dictates its collection policies and helps shape the scope of the collection.  Unlike fine art museums in which the focus is on art, The Charleston Museum is focused on educating people about Charleston: its history, its culture, its productions.  This means that not only are the strategies for display different, but their didactic materials must be broader and able to speak to a wide range of audiences.  It means they collect everything from the finest Charleston Silver to the quirkiest of insecticides, all because these each have a place in telling the story their mission dictates.

Grahame Long was generous with both his time and knowledge, and a splendid host.  We will certainly make the museum a regular stop when we travel to Charleston.