It's not just those incredible stained glass windows and panels and the beautiful, flowing glass vases. We've all seen those countless times, in countless museums. It's the massive, deeply and intricately carved teak Indian doors on display from his home on 72nd Street in New York City, the Islamic-style alcoves in a picture of the fountain room, the long iron chains with elephants that he hung in his atmospheric studio, the Indonesian wood block panels he assembled as their own sort of canvases on the wall. It's the gleaming, fantastical peacock headdress a young girl once wore for a party he had, when she walked in as Juno leading a real peacock, with friends behind her dressed in grecian robes and bearing stuffed peacocks on platters. The MET website on the exhibit describes his country home perfectly in saying that Tiffany created "a total aesthetic environment."Unfortunately, the home in Oyster Bay burned down a long time ago. Many bits and pieces of it were sold before the fire, and some stained glass windows in the show were found mud-covered and just propped against a tree on the property after the fire. The exhibit includes items from, and pictures of, the Tiffany home on Madison Ave. and 72nd street. (Alas, also gone now.)
Items that had been sold at auctions, such as a beautifully beaded Native American buckskin dress that Tiffany used to display above intricately woven Indian baskets, as well as amazing Japanese, Chinese, and Islamic artifacts, have been assembled into an beautiful, awe-inspiring (the money to collect this stuff!) exhibit. New York Times reviewer Roberta Smith has a great opening line in her review of the show: "“Louis Comfort Tiffany and Laurelton Hall: An Artist’s Country Estate” is the rare exhibition that comes with its own porch." (Yes, a gorgeous restored "daffodil" porch from the house has been transported to the museum.)The exhibit displays a lot of works lent by The Morse Museum in Winter Park, Fla., which has an incredible collection of Tiffany items. The founder of The Morse was Jeannette Genius (great name, eh?), who came from a wealthy family in Florida that collected Tiffany glass. Around 1960, Jeannette, with her husband Hugh McKean, paid $10,000 for what they could salvage of the burnt-down Laurelton estate. Tiffany was considered passe at the time--his glass panels and lamps were pretty, but not intense, not abstract, not modern. McKean, a painter--as was his eventual wife--actually studied at Laurelton around 1930 in Tiffany's artist-in-residence program. You can read about the Morse's Laurelton Hall collection here and see some of the incredible things they have, such as the recreation of the 800-square-foot chapel Tiffany built for the 1893 World Columbian Expedition in Chicago.
There's quite a tale behind that chapel, and you can find the full story here. In a nutshell, Carol Whipple Wallace bought it and donated it to the Cathedral of St. John the Divine here in NYC. But it was relegated to a cramped space in the basement and it deteriorated. So Tiffany offered to take it back at his own expense and installed and refurbished it at Laurelton. But after he died, it fell into disrepair, parts of it were sold off by the Tiffany Foundation, and then Laurelton burned down in 1957. The McKeans assembled many bits and pieces of it that had been sold at auction and now it's on display again in sunny Fla. Here's another Tiffany room at the Morse Museum.
"Louis Comfort Tiffany and Laurelton Hall: An Artist's Country Estate" (at the MET 'til May 20) is the perfect exhibit to see before grabbing a glass of wine and a bite on the MET balcony on a Friday or Saturday night. I wish, though, that the MET balcony operation took names for a waiting list, because you feel creepy lurking around the tables, trying to unobtrusively check out how close people are to leaving and then staking your claim by waiting in the four feet or so between the tables and the gallery walls. But when I was there this past Saturday the service was great, the appetizers and wine were fine, and the music was wonderful. It's a nice way to start a night.
My one complaint with the Tiffany exhibit, since I'm addicted to museum stores (so shoot me, I sometimes like commerce with my culture): The merchandise sold at the end of the exhibit is not that great. There is a pretty purple velvet scarf, but the supposed "fine jewelry" looks cheesy and I feel like the MET lost a real opportunity there. The only thing I saw that I'd want in my home (okay, there were some purple and deep, almost-teal blue leather embossed jewelry boxes that were very pretty, but the smaller round one was $55 and I couldn't stomach the price) was a $175 decorated gold cross, and since I'm not particularly religious, it would be a little odd for me to have that hanging on my wall. Ah well. The aesthetic experience petered out at the gift shop, but the exhibit itself is gorgeous.
No comments:
Post a Comment