The Cross House
Bo identified the maker of all my hardware, and noted the the interior door knob sets featured an anthemion design.
What, you might ask, is an anthemion?
Anthemion, design consisting of a number of radiating petals, developed by the ancient Greeks from the Egyptian and Asiatic form known as the honeysuckle or lotus palmette. The anthemion was used widely by the Greeks and Romans to embellish various parts of ancient buildings.
I know, WHAT does all that really mean?
Ok, so cool. Cool!
Particularly as I have always liked an anthemion motif.
Today, I was talking with somebody in my office, and they asked about the chandeliers I recently purchased for the Cross House. I went to my computer, and showed them the post I did on the pair of period-correct gas/electric chandelier I purchased in January.
As we were looking at the images, my eyes bugged out.
How had I not seen this before?????????????
Why, the Cross House is blessed with anthemion!
Golly! Who knew??????????
AND WHAT IF?
Recently, I did a post about doing a stencil on the parlor walls of the Cross House. The post generated a small bit of controversy.
Today, while researching this post, I came across anthemion stencils! Zounds! And this got me to thinking…
When I wrote the post about doing a stencil on the parlor walls, some readers did not seem to understand why I did not accept Bo’s gracious offer to underwrite the cost of doing stencil version of the original parlor wallpaper, which I have fragments of.
My concerns were:
- A stencil pattern of the original paper would not replicate the paper. It would be a version of it. And this fudges history. I would rather do something entirely different.
- The original paper was part of an ensemble, in that it also had a frieze (above the picture rail) and complementary ceiling paper. Because I have no idea what these latter papers looked like, I could not authentically recreate the original ensemble.
But by shifting to stencils with an anthemion motif, I am introducing a pattern which never existed previously in the parlor. I could also skip, with impunity, doing a frieze and ceiling paper, thus giving the room a more modern look.
Well, I am tingling with excitement about this new direction.
Tonight, I will be dreaming of sugar plum anthemion.
And it is all Bo’s fault.
Several commenters have noticed that I change my mind a lot.
There is some truth to this.
I am fluid about some things. And inflexible about others, such as my determination in 2014 to discover the original exterior colors of the Cross House, and then paint the house in such colors. Nothing else would do.
I also feel it is important to be both fluid and inflexible as a construction manager. This is tricky, because while one has to maintain X schedule and X budget, unexpected things always crop up, and one needs to be adjustable.
When it comes to the art of interior design, I feel it is important to be fluid, and have always been so in my long career as a designer.
When I change direction, it is normally because new information arrives. Perhaps the draperies I had my heart set on did not have enough in stock, or looked quite different in person than online. Sometimes I just cannot afford a beloved idea. And so on.
Today, I discovered that the Cross House has a built-in motif. It seem foolish to ignore this wonderful new discovery. Why not have some fun with it, and make the house even more beautiful as a result?
As Frank Lloyd Wright said: My favorite tool in the drafting room is a hammer, and my favorite tool on a job site is a sledgehammer.