365 Days at the Met

  August 27, 2024 At last I find in gallery 741 a period room I really like, a "stair hall" measuring perhaps 20 feet by 18 feet from a house built in Buffalo in 1883-1884. Is it the fact that it's lit well enough for me to see it reasonably clearly? The warmth of the cherry and oak wood paneling? The pilasters and striated grain of the wood veneer above the mantel, echoed in the spindles and pilasters lining the staircase? The cushioned benches flanking the fireplace (an arrangement called an "inglenook," I learn) that appear to offer comfortable seating beside the hearth? The light-colored stone of the fireplace itself? The varied geometric shapes - squares, rectangles, circles, ovals, and diamonds - in the paned windows? (The windows in the stairwell employ a different, equally refined geometric design that largely consists of octagons enclosed in circles.) The low ceiling that conveys a feeling of coziness?  Or - and this is less flattering to me - is it the

  August 25, 2024 Gallery 740, the Gothic Revival library, comes from a house built in 1859 in a residential area of Newburgh, New York. At that time, Newburgh was viewed as a leafy retreat for New Yorkers of means; now it's known as a city where many residents struggle with poverty. The room is so dark that it's hard to see what elements might be described as "Gothic," other than the pointed arches framing the windows. Perhaps the elaborately carved chairs, whose backs form a pointed arch, and the ornamental carving on the bookcase might also qualify. None of the furniture is original to the house, however. More interesting to me than the room itself is the museum's description of it. It notes that Gothic revival homes, in contrast to Italianate villas, were meant to signify a preference for a quiet, intellectual lifestyle, and in such homes, the library often served as the main parlor. Of course, in an era where there were no televisions or computers or other fo

  My first reaction on seeing gallery 739 was, "Yet another dark period room." I later asked a guard whom I heard commenting to another visitor about the need for a flashlight  why the rooms are so dark. Her first response: "To show how they were back then." But this can't be completely true, since many rooms had large windows, albeit these are sometimes shrouded in deep crimson curtains. I think it has more to do with the absence of backlighting behind the windows in most of the rooms and the difficulty of retrofitting the spaces. In any case, this room, formally called "The Richard and Gloria Manney [again] John Henry Belter Rococo Revival Parlor," is intended  to  illustrate how a parlor in the home of an affluent family might have looked in the mid-1850s. A number of the architectural elements actually come from a mansion built around 1850 in Astoria, Queens for a wealthy fur and hat merchant.  It's interesting to think of Astoria as a highly d

  August 4, 2024 Gallery 738, the "Richard and Gloria Manney Greek Revival Parlor " is presumably named after the donors whose gift enabled the creation of this space. The descriptive placard makes clear that, perhaps more than any other period room, this room relies on the imagination and knowledge of Met curators working with pattern books of the mid-1830s, the period the room is intended  to reflect. Only two architectural details are authentic to that era: the entrance, which is framed by tall Ionic columns, and the black mantelpiece. The room was designed with two full-length windows, but is nonetheless quite dark.  The space, which measures perhaps 35 feet long and 25 feet wide, showcases a suite of furniture that includes a round table at the room's center, a marble-topped chest and secretary, a number of chairs, and two long day beds that are mirror images of each other. Much (all?) of the furniture, made of mahogany, came from the home of a New York City attorney

 August 1, 2024 Gallery 737 is a long, essentially rectangular space at one end of gallery 736; measuring perhaps 50 feet long and 20 feet wide, it's small only in comparison to the neighboring gallery. The "Renaissance Revival room," as it's called, served as the back parlor of the Meriden, CT mansion of Mr. and Mrs. Jedediah Wilcox, a manufacturer of hoop skirts, carpetbags, and other woolen products. Designed by an architect and built in 1868-1870, the house combined French and Italian elements, including a mansard roof and a rectangular tower; a photo of the house on the museum's website shows that it was really grand in scale (40 rooms!) and must have been quite an imposing place.  I learn that the term "Renaissance Revival" refers not specifically to the Italian Renaissance but to an eclectic mix of European style elements.  I especially note the Corinthian columns framing a window and a statue on a pedestal at one end, along with two wall niches h

July 29, 2024 Gallery 736 is a very large  gallery filled with works from the middle decades of the 19th century: furniture and decorative objects, primarily ceramics and cut glass goblets and bowls, along with a number of paintings.  Introductory signage explains that economic prosperity and a growing middle class fueled the market for "refined domestic interiors." It also notes that skilled European craftsmen found employment in the new country, a fact that gained new resonance for me after I recently met a man whose German grandfather, a glassblower, emigrated to the United States to work in the Corning glassworks.  For me, the gallery is a lesson in the evanescent and culture-bound definition of what constitutes good taste. It makes me realize that the couches and chairs and tables with clean, simple lines that I like so much were not prized 175 years ago; who knows how they will be regarded 175 years from now?  The armchair shown above is a case in point. Made in New Yor