The entrance hall, with its encaustic mural representing peace
The bathroom next to the entrance hall
The grand salon
The library
The dining room
Just for a few seconds, before my eye roamed again, I was entranced by the way light, as only it can when reflected off moving water, trembled on the walls and the ceiling of Théodore Reinach's bedroom. We had walked slowly through each room and upstairs, iPhones in hand ready to capture everything we could, not quite overwhelmed but certainly slightly addled by the riches to be seen in this astonishingly beautiful house. And astonishing it is: not just because of the Romantic recreation of ancient Greece and to some extent of ancient Rome, or its Greek and Roman-inspired furniture (Mr Reinach's bed, actually a reproduction of a Roman bed found in Pompeii and displayed at the Archaeological Museum in Naples), but also because of its marble walls and encaustic murals, its thyrôreion, balaneion, gynaeceum, andron and triklinos, delectable columns, mosaic floors, stucco friezes, painted ceilings, polished bronze tabletop serving, as it would have in the ancient world, as a mirror, Roman-style "rain" shower, embroidered linen curtains, rotting and frayed though they are, chandeliers inspired by those in Hagia Sophia, electric lamps modeled after ancient oil lamps, Christophle silver vase based on the krater found with the Hildesheim Treasure and, finally - because this list could go on and on - a carrara marble altar bearing the inscription To an Unknown God.
It occurs to me, as I sort through the hundreds of photographs we took, how little one experiences from behind the lens - involvement at a remove, as it were - and how intrusive and misleading the desire to photograph everything can be. An end in itself, perhaps, using the world's wonders as background for our lives: as one sees with tourists everywhere, for there they are, grinning away in front of every monument, fountain, ruin, painting and statue, even posturing for the camera, as I saw last year in Florence, to appear to be holding David's dick.
All photographs by us except for the second - the bathroom next to the entrance hall - which is by M. Listri, from The Kérylos Villa, Beaux Arts magazine/TMM Editions, Paris.
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Thanks for a glance through your eyes. Best for the new year.
ReplyDeleteTerry, thank you. I read your post about the new house the other day and for some reason (I was in the office) I could not comment. Best wishes to you as well. Are you going to the Institute of Classical America's event at the Driving Club? If so, we'll catch up there.
DeleteYour handling of the interior light sources - chandelier, sconce, spot, reflections in tiles - was outstanding. I really don't gush for the building, but I can appreciate that one might if one were there; but for the pictorial narrative presented here, I do. By telephone, eh?
ReplyDeleteLaurent, thank you. I'm grateful for the compliment about camera skills though to be honest it is more applicable to the Celt's than mine. I have so little patience with taking photographs - I prefer drive-by shooting, as it were. Yes, the photographs were made using iPhones. We never remember to take a camera with us.
DeleteI was entranced by Villa Kérylos and would willingly go back even if I were not in the neighborhood. Villa Ephrussi, on the other hand ....
I find myself scrolling through these images again and again to get a handle on the richness, the detail, the context of such an extraordinary place. I know exactly what you mean though. When in a place such as this I am torn between the desire to capture as much as possible as a memory jolt for later, and just wanting to absolutely immerse myself in the detailed beauty - no camera at all - for the very process breaks my reverie. Never quite worked out the right solution for that!
ReplyDeleteBut back to this place... I am left somewhat in awe and can only begin to imagine what it would be like to actually walk through this space. Virginia x
Glamour Drops, thank you. I really did find Kérylos magical though had we not been the only people in the place I wonder if the magic would had held up when glimpsed through hoards of people. Nonetheless, the place was empty, as was the Cote d'Azur it seemed to me, thus, clearly, mid-winter is the best time to visit.
DeleteThe photographs were meant more for the blog than for a personal album but an album, albeit digital, is what they have become, if the truth be told. Had it not been for the blog, I would simply have bought the book and not taken photographs.
If you are ever on the Riviera Kérylos is the perfect
That may be true, but I'm so glad you took them!! One of my favorite interiors of all time. Just wonderful.
ReplyDeleteDandy, thank you. I think Villa Kérylos is one of my favorite interiors, also - it's the romantic in me, I'm afraid.
DeleteI love it all!
ReplyDeleteThe Devoted Classicist, thank you. Have you visited Kérylos?
DeleteA beautiful series of photographs that gives the viewer a sense of place. Your comment, "...how little one experiences from behind the lens" reminded me of a friend who said she leaves her camera at home every once in awhile so she can see what is around her. There is a lot of truth to that because the lens is limited to what is in focus. What fascinates me is making the picture and telling the story, but I know I miss many things while doing so.
ReplyDeletesmilla4blogs, thank you. I understand what you mean when you say what fascinates you is making the picture and telling a story. It's in the nature of an artist, I think, to create a reality that is parallel yet utterly related. I for one, love the images you create.
DeleteAs to my talents with a camera, or an iPhone in this case, see what I wrote to Laurent above. I am one of those about whom I rage - a tourist with a camera and an indiscriminate eye.
I have complicated feelings about houses such as this. On the one hand, they are one-offs -- testaments to the visions of their creators (and their money, wherever it came from). On the other, they are immensely burdensome legacies for their children. Lead weights that can easily wreck the lives of the people the creators might be presumed to have loved most.
ReplyDeleteOne of Reinach's sons spent his life attached to the house and his father's legacy -- up to the point where the Nazis dragged him, his wife, and their children away to Auschwitz.
In a way, it reminds me of Biltmore, in Asheville, which has been a curse to Vanderbilt's descendents (successive generations of Cecils). They can never have lives of their own. They are bound to that big dreadful building as if by an ancient curse -- though estate taxes may eventually liberate them.
There's a moral here, but I'm not sure what it is.
The Ancient, thank you.
DeleteI absolutely understand your point, for England is full of similar examples of heritage as burden - heritage that has become an industry in itself. Though no longer in the hands of the family - a story I intend to write about in my next post - Villa Kérylos has a feel of life and authenticity about it. Mind you, having said that, it could be I'm a died-in-the-wool romantic.
You've given me something to think about, probably to write about, when you wrote "there's a moral here, but I'm not sure what it is."
I tried posting on your previous post last week, but blogger was being stupid and wouldn't let me comment! What I said was, that I wasn't even done with your post and I was looking for train schedules to Nice...and now I'm doing it all over again! So unbelievably gorgeous, and you'd think living in the land of tile I'd be sick of it, but this just makes me love it more...Thank you so much for opening my eyes to this place!
ReplyDeleteSeriously beautiful. I understand the 'remove' that having a camera in hand can induce, but am glad you were there with yours so as to cause me to smile from ear to ear.
ReplyDelete