Exploring New Orleans Part II of III: A Visit to Pitot House

Pitot House was designed by architect and builder Hilaire Boutté in 1799
Photo: Chronica Domus

Of all the historic house museums located in New Orleans, it was Pitot House that I was most looking forward to visiting.  Perhaps not such an obvious choice for most visitors of this fair city - a streetcar up to City Park will take you there from the French Quarter - it was a house I had longed to see for myself.  I first read about Pitot House in Vance Muse's 'Old New Orleans, Great American Homes', a book I discovered at a public library early in the 1990s when I first arrived on these shores from England.  A copy of the book now sits on the shelves of my own library.

Photo: Chronica Domus

What drew me to Pitot House was the fact that it looks like no other dwelling I have stumbled across in my new country of residence.  Certainly, one would expect to see such houses in the tropical climes of the West Indies, but here in America?   With its stucco-covered brick and post construction, wide loggia, colonnettes, shutters, and cooling brick floors, this house happens to be perfectly suited to New Orleans' subtropical humid weather.

Although Pitot House is not a grand house, having been built as a family home - it's first resident, Madame Rillieux, was Edgar Degas' maternal great-grandmother - its intimate scale and architectural vernacular make it an endearing one.  Sitting prettily within its lush gardens along the banks of picturesque Bayou St. John, one could happily spend hours sitting idly on the gallery, gazing out at the watery view, or passing the time downstairs picking grapefruits from the garden, or perhaps clipping flowers to bring indoors.  Someone, please, wake me up, I have a blog post to write!

Photo: Chronica Domus

The garden is delineated from the street by rugged old cypress pieux fencing, seen in the first photograph of this post.  Cypress wood is often referred to in these parts as 'eternal wood' because of its rot-resistant qualities.  It does, after all, grow submerged within the swampy environs of the bayou.  Brick walkways, citrus trees, Amethyst beautyberry, as well as a host of other shrubs and trees (Cypress and Magnolia specimens) happily co-exist in the well-tended garden.

Brick paths beckon one to explore the lush gardens
Photo: Chronica Domus

Built as a country retreat in 1799 on a thirty acre plot of land,  Pitot House is the only Creole colonial country house open to the public in New Orleans.   James Pitot and his family lived there from 1810 to 1819.  He was the first mayor of the newly incorporated American city of New Orleans.

Our guide, Ms. Hallie Borstel, points out the position of Pitot House in relation 

to New Orleans on an old map of Louisiana above the fireplace in the dining room

Photo: Chronica Domus

In 1963 Pitot House was moved two-hundred feet east to its present location in an effort to save it from demolition by the Louisiana Landmarks Society.  Since then, the society has done an admirable job of restoring and preserving the house and its grounds for the visiting public to enjoy.

Here's an image of the house in 1965 in the midst of reconstruction
(notice the dormer windows in the roof, now removed, features not original to the house)
Photo: Chronica Domus

Throughout the house are dozens of french doors and windows that catch the cross-breezes when opened, helping to cool the house and its occupants.

Photo: Chronica Domus

The brick-floored rooms and 'cabinets' on the ground floor of Pitot House are multi-purpose rooms where furniture would be moved around according to the family's needs.  The rooms were also used for storage.  

Photo: Chronica Domus

There are no hallways in the house (upstairs one can come and go between rooms using the French doors on the gallery) and the only starcase in the house is located outside.

I love how the handrail curves on this outdoor staircase
Photo: Chronica Domus

Let's look around upstairs
Photo: Chronica Domus

Ascending the staircase one lands at the shuttered gallery.  I loved the colonnettes between the shutters, a detail I don't recall seeing anywhere else prior to my visit to Pitot House.

Shutters help keep the gallery upstairs cool and the rains at bay
Photo: Chronica Domus

A detailed view of the colonnettes that are placed between the shutters
Photo: Chronica Domus

Photo: Chronica Domus

The photograph above shows the French door that leads into a small bedroom.  The room is modestly furnished with an armoire, a few chairs, and a bed.

Photo: Chronica Domus

Beneath the bedspread is a Spanish-moss stuffed mattress that rests upon a rope bed

Photo: Chronica Domus

Another bedroom in the house is set up as the family had it during the hot summer months.  The headboard has been removed and the bed sits forward of the wall to allow for air circulation.  The gauzy canopy helps keep the insects at bay.  Vetiver, a natural insect repellant, was also employed.

This bedroom is set up for the summer season where mosquitoes and insects are at their worst
Photo: Chronica Domus

Evidence of the oft-present need to cool down was everywhere in the house
Photo: Chronica Domus

The view from the upstairs gallery which overlooks Bayou St. John
Photo: Chronica Domus

The French doors on the gallery are used to gain access into and egress from the upstairs rooms
Photo: Chronica Domus

By far the most formal room in the house is the parlor where James Pitot and his family entertained visiting dignitaries, friends, writers, and polititians.  

Pitot favored American Federal furniture when furnishing the rooms of Pitot House
Photo: Chronica Domus

Photo: Chronica Domus

One of the few imported pieces in the house is this French pianoforte, a belated wedding
present to Genevieve-Sophie, Mr. Pitot's second wife (the first, Marie-Jeanne, died during
childbirth) - the portrait is of James Pitot
Photo: Chronica Domus

The elaborately carved fireplace lends an air of formality to the room
(of interest to film buffs: the upper panel's floral decoration was done for the filming of
Interview With A Vampire and has yet to be removed)
Photo: Chronica Domus

A final bedroom completes the tour of the upstairs of Pitot House.  The portrait over the fireplace, which is not original to the house, is of Genevieve-Sophie Pitot.

Photo: Chronica Domus

A portrait of Genevieve-Sophie Pitot hangs over the bedroom fireplace
Photo: Chronica Domus

In 1819 James Pitot's finances forced him to leave his West Indies inspired country retreat on the bayou and return to New Orleans.  He lived there until his death in 1831.  I am thankful to the Louisiana Landmarks Society for having the foresight to save this handsome house and James Pitot's legacy so that we fortunate visitors are able to enjoy it today.

Thanks to Ms. Hallie Borstel's enthusiasm for architectural preservation, our visit to
Pitot House was a fact-filled and enjoyable one
Photo: Chronica Domus

I highly encourage visitors to New Orleans - too many of whom never explore much beyond the French Quarter - to ride the streetcar up to City Park and walk the few minutes it takes to reach Pitot House.  A tour of  this Creole country abode set upon the waters of picturesque Bayou St. John is a real treat indeed and could, possibly, be the highlight of their visit to New Orleans.  It certainly was for me.

Photo: Chronica Domus

Pitot House is located at 1440, Moss Street, New Orleans, LA 70119.  Please check the website for opening hours.


Nota bene: I am neither paid nor do I receive recompense in exchange for applauding products or services within my blog.  I do so because I enjoy them.  If you are a kindred spirit, you too enjoy recommending nice things to fellow good eggs.

Exploring New Orleans: Part I of III

It won't take long for visitors to hear the familiar sounds of New Orleans as they amble
around the French Quarter on any given day or night

Photo: Chronica Domus

My husband and I have just returned from a very enjoyable visit to New Orleans, a city in the midst of celebrating its tercentennial anniversary.  As you can well imagine, a place as historically rich and culturally diverse  as New Orleans rightfully has plenty to celebrate.  It is a city I have longed to visit but somehow didn't until last week.  With a reputation for good food, interesting architecture, and a laid-back attitude, I was more than eager to discover the delights of the Big Easy.

After checking into a supremely comfortable room at the Windsor Court Hotel on a hot and humid afternoon, a refreshing drink was in order.  A Ramos Gin Fizz, one of the city's most famous cocktails, was just the ticket.  Luckily for us the famed Sazerac Bar was just a short walk away.  I could not think of a better place to cool down, unwind, and enjoy a slice of old-world New Orleans.

The Paul Ninas murals and white jacketed bartenders lend an air of yesteryear to
The Sazerac Bar's elegant ambiance

Photo: Chronica Domus

Suitably refreshed and ready to explore, we sauntered towards the French Quarter, an experience I shall not soon forget.  Looking around at our surroundings, we momentarily felt a sense of déjà vu.  Had we stumbled into a back street in Lyon France, or perhaps Spain, or even the West Indies?  The French Quarter is all of these places thanks to the architectural influences of its early settlers.  

The area around Bienville Place on Decatur Street reminded me of Europe

Photo: Chronica Domus

Place des Vosges in Paris or Jackson Square in New Orleans?

Photo: Chronica Domus

The French Quarter is famous for the many intricately fashioned iron balconies, or
galleries, found on many of its buildings
Photo: Chronica Domus

New Orleans is surrounded by water.  The steamboats that once navigated the mighty Mississippi river played an important part in why the area established itself as a world port.  Today, one can still spot a steamboat or two paddling down the river; here's The Natchez underway taking passengers on a night cruise.

Photo: Chronica Domus

The city's outlying bayous and wetlands offer a fascinating glimpse at the natural landscape surrounding New Orleans.  Built, in the main, at sea level, the city is keenly aware of the devastating consequences of floodwaters.  Pumps and levees work overtime to keep the area dry.

A whimsical drainpipe New Orleans style!

Photo: Chronica Domus

An excursion into nearby Cajun country and a tour of the swamps is a must for any curious visitor, especially so if one wishes to see the local wildlife up close and personal.

Into the swamp we go perched upon a small airboat expertly steered by
Captain Randy, a man who has spent his entire life around the bayou
Photo: Chronica Domus

Spanish moss-covered Taxodium distichum, or Bald Cypress trees, grow in brackish
swamp water and are only able to survive because of their ...

... protruding roots which allow for an exchange of gases at the "knees" which keep the trees alive
Photo: Chronica Domus 

Proud Cajun Captain Randy tells us that he left school at the age of twelve to work on his
family's bayou; exceedingly knowledgeable in matters relating to the fragile ecosystem,
swamp management, and the local fauna and flora (just ask him about the Nutria invasion
and the rapidly disappearing bayou), Captain Randy made our visit to the swamp not only educational but jolly good fun too (he is an excellent storyteller!)
Photo: Chronica Domus

Yes, it's true, alligators really do live in the swampy environs of New Orleans and
Captain Randy knows exactly where to find them
Photo: Chronica Domus

Back in the city, the best way to get around is either on foot or by boarding one of the handsome streetcars that have been rolling by every few minutes for the past one-hundred and fifty years.  We rode the streetcars twice during our stay in New Orleans; once up to City Park to tour a historic house that I'll be posting about next, and the other to the Garden District to view the many antebellum houses the area is famous for and the cemetery.

All aboard the city's famous streetcars
Photo: Chronica Domus

Because the water table is high in New Orleans, the deceased are interred in above-ground tombs

to avoid any unpleasant consequences of flooding

Photo: Chronica Domus

Quercus virginiana, or Southern live oak trees, are as  stately as the houses that line 

the streets of the Garden District

Photo: Chronica Domus

This incredible cast iron cornstalk fence can be seen

at Colonel Short's Villa in the Garden District

Photo: Chronica Domus

Of course, I should not fail to mention some of the local food that citizens and visitors alike enjoy in New Orleans.  The cuisines of the Creole and Cajun traditions dominate the restaurant scene.  As we happened to be in New Orleans on Friday, there was only one place to lunch:

Galatoires on Bourbon Street looks rather civilized from the outside until, that is,  ...
Photo: Chronica Domus

... one steps into the rowdy dining room during the madness that is Friday lunch
Photo: Chronica Domus

Lunching at Galatoires on Friday is a beloved local tradition.  The boisterous conviviality of the diners sitting cheek by jowl makes for a very entertaining but noisy environment.   Admittedly, it was all a tad too much for us out-of-towners so we happily ate our lunch in the upstairs dining room alongside other less spirited locals.

And, because we both have a sweet tooth, and the beignets were outstanding, we visited Café du Monde more times than I care to admit during our time in New Orleans.  There's good reason this place has been in business for the past century and a half.

Café au lait is the perfect accompaniment to delicious beignets

Photo: Chronica Domus

I shall miss beautiful New Orleans and its vibrant culture and friendly people.  With so much to offer, the Crescent City is well worth a repeat visit.  I look forward to that day not only with pleasure but with a little pep in my step (yes, I can still hear the sound of all those jazz bands playing in my head). 

In the next installment of this three part series, I look forward to showing you around a historic house situated along the banks of Bayou St. John.


Nota bene: I am neither paid nor do I receive recompense in exchange for applauding products or services within my blog.  I do so because I enjoy them.  If you are a kindred spirit, you too enjoy recommending nice things to fellow good eggs.

A Successful Day At Auction & A Connection To An Important Welsh Ceramics Collection

Two auction attendees contemplate their bidding strategy
Photo: Chronica Domus

It has been an age since I was motivated enough to haul my caboose out of the house on a weekend morning to attend a live auction. One bright and sunny day last month, my husband and I did just that, taking our ringside seats at the hottest event in town.  Fellow ceramics collectors, clutch your paddles tight.  I am about to show you what it was that had me so revved up. 

While some attending the sale anticipated successful bids on the Picassos, Chagalls, or Dalis on offer, it was the numerous lots of English ceramics of the late-eighteenth to early-nineteenth century that lured me in like a fish to water.  Now, let me preface my scribblings by stating that in my part of the world, stumbling across a piece of early porcelain or creamware on my travels is a rare thing indeed.  These utilitarian (and fragile) articles were, after all, manufactured in potteries located on the other side of the world, on a small island over two centuries ago.  Bearing all that in mind, you can well imagine my delight at being confronted by the glorious vision captured in the photograph below:

A display case chock-full of early Wedgwood and Spode creamware table articles
spells danger for this particular addict collector
Photo: Chronica Domus

And, for admirers of early drabware ceramics, feast your eyes on this:

No, this is not a decorative arts museum's exhibit but the contents of a
single lot for sale at auction

Photo: Chronica Domus

Or, how about some neoclassically decorated English porcelain?  There was plenty of that to go around too.

Yes, please!

Photo: Chronica Domus

A Coalport tea service in a pretty orange and gilt pattern, circa 1820
Photo: Chronica Domus

After a brief confab with my husband, it was settled.  One of the creamware lots would - fingers crossed - be going home with us.  Spotting at least one other interested party circling the display cases and pacing between the creamware and the silver lots, we might be up against competition.

The lot that piqued our interest happened to be the final one of the early ceramics.  First under the auctioneer's gavel was the drabware, sold to an Internet bidder at, astonishingly, less than the bottom end of estimate.  Next, the first of two lots of Spode Greek pattern.  That too sold at a very reasonable hammer price. The creamware was next ...

Sold! ... Nine pieces of Wedgwood's Flute and Wreath pattern

Photo: Chronica Domus

Sold!... Wedgwood's Etruscan Pattern 42 in red and black and
Pattern 93 in yellow and black enamel, circa 1785 - 1790

Photo: Chronica Domus

Sold!... Five pieces (two out of range of this photograph) of Wedgwood's Pattern 94
Photo: Chronica Domus

Sold!... A large covered dish in brown and yellow enamel and an integral sauce tureen

Photo: Chronica Domus

Bidding was fast and furious and after several of the English porcelain lots came and went, it was time to take my paddle to hand and steel myself for the battle ahead. It helps, of course, to have the support of one's dear husband who is not such a bag of nerves when it comes to these matters. He usually wields the paddle but on this occasion, I found the strength to raise my own. As luck would have it, the experience was not at all intimidating. It did help that I was the only interested bidder. Sold! to the lady who almost fainted from the rush of excitement when the gavel finally dropped. We were going home with not one but two shelves full of delicious creamware plates and serving dishes (seen in the second top photograph of this post).

The winning lot!

Photo: Chronica Domus

Accompanying the stack of ten plates is a large shapely serving dish in the same hand-painted geometric pattern.  

It is hard to believe that this pristine Wedgwood serving dish is over 200 years old

Photo: Chronica Domus

A pair of Spode creamware supper dishes painted in a similar orange and black

enamel to the Wedgwood pieces are also included in the lot

Photo: Chronica Domus

The story of the winning ceramics doesn't quite end here.  A further serving dish included in the lot yielded a clue as to the previous owner.  It is always an exciting prospect to ponder where such humble household articles began their life, how they were used, and who cared for them along the way.  

Aha! A clue to where these dishes once lurked

Photo: Chronica Domus

Who might Grant-Davidson be I wonder?

Photo: Chronica Domus

A collector's label affixed to the underside of the dish prompted a little Internet sleuthing which soon revealed the identify of Grant-Davidson as the author of the following book:

Source

Yes, that's right, my new old creamware dishes once formed part of the private collection of internationally recognized ceramics expert Mr. Wallace James Grant-Davidson.  

Mr. Wallace James Grant-Davidson proudly showing off part of his ceramics collection

Source

Mr. Grant-Davidson, a historian and authority on Welsh pottery, was also an extraordinary lifetime collector of eighteenth and nineteenth century British porcelain and ceramics.  Following his death in 1999, Sotheby's was charged with dispensing the collection which included pieces of Whieldon, redware, stoneware, pratt-type wares, delftware, Staffordshire and Sunderland lustreware as well as creamware.  The collection was broken up into 270 lots that raised a sum of £110,975.

It is a rare privilege indeed to be privy to information on the provenance of newly acquired items at auction beyond, of course, what the seller provides the auction house.  This is why I was so pleased to discover the collection label attached to the underside of one of my plates.  The label led me to some fascinating information released by Sotheby's in the run up to the sale.  It identifies exactly where these dishes last resided during their two-hundred year history:

"The whole house was decorated with the china", Mrs. Margaret Grant-Davidson said; "every room had pieces on the walls, it covered the walls in the study, the bedroom, the dining room and even up the stairs!  My husband was a true collector, he brought what he liked.  I was married to him for more than 60 years and he was so meticulous and kept everything.  It is taking me a long time to sort things out and I am still finding things that I never knew we had.  I have kept many items as the house would be bare otherwise". 

It is pleasing to imagine that a humble Welsh house in Swansea was once home to such an extraordinary and well-loved collection of ceramics.  And now, here in my own humble abode, half way across the world, Mr. Grant-Davidson's dishes have somehow found their way to me.  I wonder where they'll end up next?  Until that day dawns, I look forward to using and enjoying my creamware, and setting it atop my period appropriate English mahogany dining table, alongside period glassware and silver.  Who knows, perhaps table and plate might have already met at a long-past luncheon or dinner party. 

Now, if you'll please excuse me, I'm off to hatch a plan for my creamware's coming out party ...