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Art Design Fashion

Hanfu + Beijing

After a Fashion

“Boom boom boom boom, boom boom boom boom, boom boom boom boom, doom doom doom, ok boom boom, toom toom, ok boom boom.” The catchy lyrics of Taiwanese popstar Angela Zhang’s hit (written by Harry Sommerdahl and Yi Wei Wu) go down a storm with the bright youngish things clad in Urban Revivo designer gear in downtown Beijing clubland. So far so 21st century. But away from the midnight smoky dancefloors, daytime streetwear in the Chinese Capital is taking on a different look. Very different.

Strolling down Donganmen Avenue biting on tanglulu, a Beijing street food of skewered fruit dipped in hardened sugar syrup, the bright youngish things could just as easily be sipping jasmine tea centuries ago in the Forbidden City. What’s happening? A millennia old fashion has been popularised by that most contemporary of influences: social media. Historical television dramas like The Story of Minglan set in the Northern Song Dynasty of 960 to 1127 AD are also fuelling the fashion.

Local tour guide Mandy Wong explains, “The Imperial style is super popular with young people coming from remote villages to experience life in Beijing. About 60 percent of immigrants in the city come from the Chinese countryside. Beijingers are also getting in on the act. Hanfu as it’s called is more than just fashion: it’s a way of expressing a form of national pride and cultural heritage that was suppressed last century. They are dressing like the Imperial royal family and their concubines, servants and warriors.”

Han Chinese is the world’s largest ethnic group and the name derives from the Han dynasty of 206 BC to 220 AD which shaped and unified Chinese civilisation. The style though originated in the second millennium BC so today’s generation have plenty of opportunities for breadth of eclecticism and depth of interpretation. Key components are Beizi (a cloak popularised by later dynasties), Ruqun (a short jacket and long coat) and Shenyl (a robe worn by Han and Jin dynasties). As for headdresses, the silhouette rules whether wearing a Mianliu crown with tassels or a Fenghuang crown with jewels. Some of the boys complement their dark outfits with guyliner. The girls’ pale foundation matches their long white fur trimmed capes. Fans double as sun protectors, even in winter.

It’s a case of the Emperor’s old clothes.

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Architects Architecture Art Design Developers Hotels Luxury People Restaurants Town Houses

Lavender’s Blue + Beijing

Like You Never Went Away 

You’re everywhere. Empirically attractive, imperially gorgeous. Positively pulsating with pulchritude. And as for this current megalopolis: it’s the acme of urban aspiration and cultural inspiration. Amongst the jade and jardines and jacquard silks; amidst the mist shawled vales and curlicued dragons and parasol clutching mandarins; centrist centring on the premier international consumption hub to the east of the world’s longest central axis, we’re doing our germane best for Sino Anglo Irish relations. Recalling the sinistral Ming and Qing dynasties; admiring the syncretic Xi Jinping era. Our very own white lotus revolutionary revelation has begun. Focusing on the glimmers. Hypnogogic mesmerisation; pedagogic realisation. We’ll always remember you dancing under city lights.

In years to come, looking back over Lavender’s Blue, reflecting on its modest commission to simply brighten the reader’s day, this record of a midwinter’s visit to Beijing – pics and prose capturing the paradigm of a paradisal time – will surely be seen to have delivered that meek mission. Although the ending of Marcel Proust’s 1913 The Way by Swann’s does caution, “The places we have known do not belong solely to the world of space in which we situate them for our greater convenience. They were only a thin slice of contiguous impressions that formed our life at that time; the memory of a certain image is only regret for a certain time; and houses, roads, avenues are as fleeting, alas, as the years.”

Wherever there’s the high life there’s Lavender’s Blue. Especially on days ending with a Y. Perhaps it really is then an infrangible storehouse of exquisite epiphanies with a strong dose of chimerical aestheticism. A finely hewn form of winsome writing and formidable photography. Savour each missive from our Champagne fuelled truffle laden foam light caviar heavy production line of epigrams and epiphanic imagery. Dithyrambic ramblings are us. Think Felicità. Like very fine wine, Lavender’s Blue is an acquired taste. But – health warning – those who remain intellectually alert enough to sup at this fountain will end up addicted. We’re talking opium level.

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Architects Architecture Design Developers Hotels Luxury Restaurants

Michael Manser Associates + Hilton Hotel Heathrow London

So Glad

If Ada Louise Huxtable said you’re good, you’re good. She was the American queen of architectural criticism (died in 2013). The visual counterpart to her literary excellence was Deborah Turbeville the American monarch of the camera (died in 2013). United States creative royalty. “The high priest of High Tech” is how she described Norman Foster (still going strong aged 90) in On Architecture, 2008. The first architecture critic of The New York Times (reigned supreme from 1963 to 1981), Ada was blessed with good looks and a way with words: “The English architect Norman Foster is a master of fine tuned exquisitely honed minimal technology. In his choice of materials and structure he uses, with remarkable eloquence, a fastidious aesthetic that derives from engineering but quietly makes it clear to the viewer (as with the 1991 exhibition rooms of the Royal Academy of Arts in London) that a series of highly intelligent choices has been made.”

Hilton Hotel Heathrow looks like it was designed by Norman Foster. It wasn’t. It’s unknown if Ada critiqued Michael Manser Associates but if she had it may well have been along the lines that they are the high priest acolytes of High Tech. Completed in 1990, the hotel (formerly known as the Sterling) gets a mention in Flying in the Face of Mediocrity, an article scribed by Alan Powers for the 28 February 1991 edition of Country Life. He applauds how the transparency of High Tech architecture recaptures the romance of travel. The hotel gets a mostly positive reception:

“The question of the traveller’s psychology in relation to buildings comes into play with the recently completed Sterling Hotel by Michael Manser Associates, linked to Terminal 4 at Heathrow. The architectural and planning record of Heathrow is not distinguished, and the hotel occupies an awkward pocket of land in the crook of a spur road. Its dazzling whiteness is impressive, and one immediately reads the skewed plan, with a full height atrium between two banks of hotel rooms. The detailing is High Tech rather than the Miesian style associated with this firm. Interesting effects of shadow and light are achieved with the cutaway end façades, but the whiteness is too insistent, and the way the skew is carried through the plan too diagrammatic and unrelieved. The result is that the sitting spaces feel overexposed in a great hotel ‘landschaft’, and one of the major functions of such a building – to calm and reassure the stopover traveller and provide a human scale in relation to journeys of thousands of miles – seems to be lost.”

Over to the architects, “The requirement was for a four star four hundred bedroom hotel on the south side of Heathrow Airport adjacent to Terminal 4. Our client specifically wanted a landmark building on a tight budget. A very clear spatial and organisational brief from the client allowed us to produce an extremely efficient plan where two blocks of bedrooms flanked a large atrium within which were all the public areas. The hotel was designed, built and opened in 27 months, including the planning process. The hotel was the first in the UK planned around a central atrium, was the first to use cement particle board for partitioning and developed an entirely bespoke but economic external cladding system. The huge atrium, with extensive views east and west creates a dramatic effect. The arrival at the hotel certainly sparks a level of theatre and drama not normally seen at airport hotels.”

Moving on, central lounge as airport hangar, a spectacular solid plane to glass expanse ratio, making a virtue out of fire escapes as elegant as Art deco diving pool spiral staircases, the Heathrow Hilton Hotel is a bold statement aging well. That’s the thing about architecture ahead of its time: four decades later it looks contemporary. There’s been a recent atrium refurb by Hirsch Bedner Associates. Associate Director and project lead Matteo Pace states, “All too often airport hotels lack character and imagination, so we were thrilled that Hilton were open to us being creative, allowing us to design a welcoming space that is connected to nature. Located at one of Europe’s busiest airports, the public spaces at the Hilton need to cater to all guests. Be it leisure or corporate visitors, we wanted to create somewhere that they can really enjoy and that enhances their travel experience through inspiring, thoughtful design.” A sculptured chandelier radiating over reception and wooden walls echoing “the undulating British landscapes” are resultant highlights.

What’s it like to stay in these days? Well there’s a catwalk straight from the hotel to Terminal 4 Departures. A Planet Burger (plant based patty, tomato chutney, gem lettuce, smoked Applewood, red onion, pickles, potato bun, plant mayo, fries) in the atrium restaurant is a good distraction from onward destinations. As is the gaggle of gorgeous Emirates airhostesses gathering in reception. The diamond shaped plan means the atrium is sandwiched between two cliffs of sleeping accommodation. A backlit pixelated map of Europe takes the place of meaningless art in each guest room. Crabtree and Evelyn toiletries encircle a Porcelanosa teardrop basin in the en suite bathrooms. A triangular wedge of precious green and blue outdoor space is attached to the rear of the hotel offering fresh produce. Ada Louise Huxtable would approve: to her sustainability was always more than just design.

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Architecture Art People

Ming Wong + The National Gallery Trafalgar Square London

Gallery as Mirror

The Director of The National Gallery, Sir Gabriele Finaldi, introduces the 2025 Artist in Residence Ming Wong. It’s the screening of Ming’s 20 minute film Dance of the Sun on the Water (Saltatio Solis in Aqua) in the underground Pigott Theatre below the bustle of Trafalgar Square. Sir Gabriele states, “The Artist in Residence programme has been running here since the 1980s. It’s amazing to think it’s over a generation old and the number of artists who have come through The National Gallery and sort of lived with us and then produced an exhibition. I think back to Paula Rego, Maggie Hambling, Peter Blake, George Shaw and in its most recent iteration I think of Rosalind Nashashibi, Ali Cherri, Céline Condorelli and Katrina Palmer. We’re very pleased to welcome Ming to this roll call of distinguished artists.”

He continues, “We’re very proud that The National Gallery has a practising artist’s studio in it. You may think of The National Gallery as a museum of old art but in fact since its beginnings it’s had a particular concern to be open and welcoming to the creative activity of contemporary artists. That’s the studio that Ming has been working in – it’s a sign of our commitment to continuing the tradition of an artist coming to experience The Gallery, to experience The Gallery as a colleague, and to turn that into an artistic response of their own. That’s what we’re seeing Ming do at the moment. He’s decided to respond to the rather amazing group of paintings of St Sebastian. The Artist in Residence’s response is always very personal and that’s what makes this significant and distinctive. It’s also offers a prism for the public to look at the Collection in a different way.”

Priyesh Mistry, Associate Curator of Modern and Contemporary Projects at The National Gallery, confirms that the 55 year old Singaporean artist Ming has produced an incredibly involved outstanding project presenting St Sebastian for a contemporary audience. Ming worked for 10 years in London after completing his Masters in Fine Art at Slade School of Art before moving to Berlin, explains Priyesh. The artist drew on experiences of his formative years in London. Ming Wong arrives in The Gallery as St Sebastian, arrows piercing his tweed jacket. The full meaning of the artist as art will soon be revealed.

Ming shares his thoughts on being appointed Artist in Residence: “First of all a feeling of puzzlement – why me? And then very quickly when you accept this residency you know that the screws are tightened. That was followed by a period of awe and fear which was assuaged very quickly when I met the team that we have here at The National Gallery. It’s such a privilege when I’m being taken around by each and every curator who showed me their ‘babies’ in the Collection, meeting heads of departments, getting to know how things function in this institution. That was a marvellous opportunity. It took me almost eight months before the idea landed of what I wanted to do.” Coinciding with the end of The Gallery’s bicentennial celebrations, Ming wanted to acknowledge the scope of history and time across centuries and geographies.

During his research he was surprised to come across St Sebastian reappearing in so many different guises down the ages. “I learnt more about his martyrdom and what he represented to people over the centuries,” Ming says. “As a protector against the Black Death, as patron saint of athletes, archers, policemen … It wasn’t until I decided to rewatch the 1976 film Sebastiane by Derek Jarman that things started to click. I work a lot with the history of cinema. In a way I am copying the Masters only in my case I tell stories with moving images. These clues all came together. It was late in the day when I had the idea and then we had to get into production almost straight away because I knew we had an opening in January!”

That chequerboard sun dappled staircase rising above the Pigott Theatre past carved stone letters leading onwards and upwards, ever ascending, to The Sainsbury Wing and Gallery 10. Ming’s artwork sits in the middle of the spaces hung with paintings of St Sebastian. He shares how his idea for “medieval televisions” transmitting Dance of the Sun on the Water (Saltatio Solis in Aqua) was inspired by the narrative pictures in predellas of medieval altarpieces. The use of Latin dialogue with Latin and English captions was inspired by Sebastiane. He chose a cast of Asian or part Asian actors, mostly British, who along with the artist play the role of Roman soldiers as well as taking it in turns to be St Sebastian.

Back to the artist’s pierced tweed jacket. Spoiler alert: Ming Wong’s message is we are all visitor and apparition. Destroyer and martyr. History is us. We are Roman soldiers. We are St Sebastian.

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Architecture Country Houses People

The Lindesays + Loughry Manor Cookstown Tyrone

Ladies First

Hansard, the Government record of the Houses of Parliament, logged on 25 April 1907 a question raised by Thomas Kettle, MP for Tyrone East, “To ask the Chief Secretary to the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland when, and in what manner, the land and buildings known as Loughry Manor, situated near Cookstown, County Tyrone, were acquired by the Department of Agriculture and Technical Instruction; and what use, if any, has been made of them since they were acquired?”

The response from Augustine Birrell was, “The Department of Agriculture received possession of Loughry Manor in the summer of last year, having acquired it by purchase in the superior courts. The property was acquired for the purpose of establishing a school of rural domestic economy for girls in the north of Ireland. The work of adapting the house to the required purpose is now about to be carried out. It was not possible to undertake this work at an earlier date, but it is hoped that the school will be ready to receive pupils next winter.”

An initial visit to Loughry in 1969 stimulated Nicholas Lindesay’s interest and he has researched his family history and connection to County Tyrone ever since. “The Lindesays originated from Leith, Scotland, and like the Stewarts of Killymoon Castle they were a Plantation family,” Nicholas explains. “My great grandfather times seven, Robert Lindesay, was the first to take advantage of the grant from James I in 1610, settling first on the hilltop at Tullahogue. The second Robert built Loughry, which means King’s Gift, in 1632. Ownership of Loughry passed out of the family on 1 February 1895. In some ways it was lucky that it became the Ulster Dairy School and later taken over by the Department of Agriculture, Environment and Rural Affairs because the estate remained as one.”

The original Loughry Manor was destroyed in the 1641 Rebellion and a replacement house not commenced until three decades later. A second house was completed in 1674 just after Robert’s death and continued to be the Lindesay residence until it was accidentally burnt down circa 1750. The handsome five bay two storey steep double pitched stuccoed main block of the current Loughry Manor is the third Lindesay house on this site. The Tuscan porch, decorative mouldings, two pane sash windows, and wings would follow. The mid 19th century owner Fritz Lindesay lived a little too well and by his death in 1877 had amassed debts in excess of £42,000. His successor Joshua lived frugally and vacated Loughry for Rock Lodge, a smaller property to the south of the estate.

Joshua died in 1893, leaving the family’s financial issues unresolved, and the entailed estate was sold by Lieutenant Colonel Henry Richard Ponsonby Lindesay of Devon to local businessman John Wilson Fleming, the last private owner. A long two storey Arts and Crafts style wing terminating in a square three storey tower was added by the Ulster Dairy School in 1906. Then in 1949 it became Loughry Agricultural College for female students. It took another 13 years before male students were admitted. Standalone educational buildings were built from the 1960s onwards but the 80 hectare parkland setting can still be appreciated.

Nicholas Lindesay confirms that turn of the 18th century owner Robert Lindesay wrote, “There is an old summerhouse at Loughry, a square turret surrounded by ivy and built upon a cliff impending a beautiful meandering river full of rugged rocks even which its waters rush with impetuosity and grandeur, particularly after rain, and on the opposite side a wooded bank rises abruptly to a considerable height, presenting to the eye a variety of majestic timber and environmental trees of oak, beech, elm, fir and ash… this square turret consists of one single room and a wine cellar hewn out of the limestone rock below, with two massive oak doors eacj about a foot and a half wide on which are affixed tremendous hinges, locks and keys.”

Robert was the fourth of the 10 Lindesay owners of Loughry. He was MP for County Tyrone, a Judge of the Common Pleas and a friend of Jonathan Swift who was Dean of St Patrick’s Cathedral Dublin and author of Gulliver’s Travels. Nicholas notes, “The Dean was a frequent visitor to Loughry and it is said that he wrote many of his books and poems in the peace and tranquillity of the summerhouse accompanied by his friend Robert Lindesay who also possessed literary talent.” Loughry Manor and Dean Swift’s summerhouse are still intact but currently unused. A faded sign on the ground floor of the return wing “Swifts Bar” (missing an apostrophe and clientele) hints at happier times.

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Architecture Country Houses Design Developers Hotels

St Ernan’s House + Island Donegal

A Memory of A Memory

A shimmer of morning light rushes across the motionless water and in a flash illuminates the house in a golden glow. The dash and hue of nature dictate the hurried glory of sunrise. Is this Ireland’s most beautifully situated house? Where are the contenders? Little wonder it has sent countless photographers into ecstasy, numerous architectural historians into a frenzy, and even inspired a novel. County Donegal: that’s the location. Donegal Town: that’s the nearest cèilidh. St Ernan’s House on St Ernan’s Island: that’s the never forever home.

First the literary giants who paved the way. Mark Bence-Jones gives it his best shot in A Guide to Irish Country Houses, 1978, “A house on an island in the estuary of the River Eske, built early 19th century by John Hamilton of Brownhall; then passed by John Hamilton’s daughter Annabella, wife of A H Foster. Subsequently owned by Henry Stubbs, who largely rebuilt the house, so that it became late Victorian in character, with gables and ornate bargeboards; but with a pillared porch, which was probably a surviving early 19th century feature. In the present century, it was the seat of the Honourable Matthew Fitzmaurice-Deane-Morgan, afterwards 6th Lord Muskerry.”

And then there’s Professor Alistair Rowan who spoke so eloquently and movingly at the much loved Dorinda Lady Dunleath’s Memorial Service in 2022. He writes in his Guide to Northwest Ulster, 1971, “This was the island retreat of John Hamilton of Brown Hall (1800 to 1884), the author of Sixty Years Experience as an Irish Landlord. Mr Hamilton took a romantic fancy to the island, laid out a pretty garden on it, with a wall round the shore, and built a two storey Regency style cottage there between 1824 and 1826. It is five windows long with a continuous verandah running the length of its front across canted bays at either end. The setting is indeed glorious, but the romantic whim of a young and newly married proprietor proved inconvenient. For most of each day the island was cut off either by the tide or, worse, by impassable shallows of mud. The construction of a causeway, despaired of by professional engineers, was achieved by Hamilton with free labour from the surrounding country.”

The most complete history is The Story of St Ernan’s, an undated booklet compiled by George Seaver and based mainly on John Hamilton’s Memoirs as well as “memories of some old folk communicated verbally to the compiler”. It opens with references to the eponymous saint, an acolyte of the better known St Columbanus. In circa 640, St Columbanus was buried in a monastic settlement to the south of Donegal Town. Red Hugh O’Donnell would build a Franciscan Abbey in the same area in 1474. “It may well have been the Friars there who gave the name of St Ernan to the island,” George reckons.

He writes, “The house owes its existence to a moment of impulse on the part of a wealthy young landowner of ancient Scottish lineage named John Hamilton, proprietor of Brown Hall in the neighbouring parish of Ballintra.” John was born in Dublin in 1800 and orphaned age seven, he and his siblings were brought up by their grandmother Lady Longford of Pakenham Hall in County Westmeath (now known as Tullynally Castle) and their relatives in Dublin. He married Mary Rose of Dublin in 1823 and they took up residence at the family estate of Brown Hall before selling their share to John’s brother. Around that time, John took a novel approach to solving a local argument: “There was a dispute between two of his tenants who had grazing rights for sheep on St Ernan’s Island, and he rode over from Brown Hall to settle it. It was, he wrote, a beautiful day in September; the tide was in, the sun was shining, the view was delightful. ‘I settled the dispute by taking the island for myself.’” Two years later, the happy couple moved into a newly built cottage on the island.

There was a practical issue as Professor Alistair Rowan observed. Accessibility. At low tide one could wade across to the island; at high tide one could row; at half tide, neither. “A rapid current flowed through the channel from south to north,” George records. “John Hamilton resolved to block it up entirely and thus deflect the current from its course to form a new channel through a sandbank that lay between St Ernan’s and Rooney’s Island to the south of it. Employing up to 100 men at a time he started building a dam reinforced with large round stones across the channel from both ends at once.” Equal opportunities were at work although it would be even more surprising if indeed it was free labour as Alistair claims. “One morning, hardly had a strong party of Orangemen from a Yeomanry Corps arrived from a village six miles away, than another party of equal force who were Roman Catholic Ribbonmen appeared from a mountain property even farther distant in an opposite direction.” The combined workforce got to it and completed the causeway over six weeks during a hot and dry summer.

“The completion of the causeway enabled him to transform the house on the island from a cottage to a substantial mansion with stables and coach house, a barn and various sheds, which grew with the years,” George notes. “The immense quantity of stone for their construction came from the Drumkeelin quarries above Mountcharles. These abound in a hard durable sandstone of a tawny mottled blue, laid in horizontal strata of convenient thickness easily sawn into the required size and shape like slabs of cake.” The rubble used to mortar the freestone was a soft limestone found on the shore close to where the gatelodge was later built, mixed with sand and ox blood. Horse drawn carts of building materials trundled across the causeway as the beauty of the house took shape.

He continues, “It is certain that the back door, heavily buttressed and with an early 19th century fanlight above it was the original front door; and the present front door, with two flights of steps below it leading down to an open space for cars, was a much later addition. Indeed, the entire south front of the house including the morning room and large drawing room and bedrooms and attic above them are also comparatively modern. The ‘garden close’ of 1826 became in course of time a high walled space of flowers embowered with various trees and some rare shrubs (from Ardnamona), interwoven with a maze of wood walks which led to a large stone bench at the end of the Island. It is still there and still known as Abraham’s Seat (the Reverend Abraham Hamilton was once John’s guardian uncle) and it commands a view of one of the most significant seascapes in Ireland.”

John Hamilton became a Christian in 1827. “What was traditional religion now became personal, and to the end of his life a vivid and earnest faith showed itself by a self denial, a thoughtfulness for the good of others and a sense of justice, combined with a liberality of mind and a freedom of enquiry not easily confined within the then popular systems or religious beliefs. He was in fact ecumenically minded generations before the idea had occurred to churchmen, because the Christian faith was for him personal discipleship rather than a system of ecclesiastical or doctrinal shibboleths.” John launched a Sunday school and Bible class in a schoolhouse he built on the edge of his estate, attracting 1,200 attendees. John donated to both Church of Ireland and Catholic church building. “In 1829, the year of Catholic Emancipation, he was active in suppressing, more than once at personal risk, demonstrations of belligerent Orangemen.”

John continued to put his faith into practice at the most traumatic time in Ireland’s history. According to George, “His exertions for the welfare of his tenantry during the terrible years of the Potato Famine were such that not one became an inmate of the union workhouse or died of starvation, and the only death that occurred on his property was attributable to other causes. It must have been during these years that as a measure of finding employment he encircled the entire island with a ‘famine wall’ 10 foot high, and extended the same operation to the opposite shore.”

Father John Doherty was the Parish Priest of Donegal Town and, despite his general opposition to the landlord system, told the Derry Journal in October 1880, “In all Ireland there never was, nor is there, a more considerate and humane landlord than the good and kind hearted proprietor of St Ernan’s. I know the pulse of his tenants well, and I know of my own knowledge that they honour him, respect him, and love him for personal kindness and friendliness towards them, and for his sympathy in all their worldly fortunes and mishaps. They regard him more in the light of a friend and benefactor, like his Master ‘going and doing good’, than as a landlord.” John Hamilton would die four years later.

His daughter with her husband Arthur Hamilton Foster inherited St Ernan’s. The property was sold after Arabella’s death in 1905 to Henry Stubbs (suggesting the Victorianisation mentioned by Mark Bence-Jones would have more likely been carried out by the Fosters). It was next bought by the Muskerry family and passed to Alma Elimina Blanche West in 1954. George Seaver notes, “Having a home of her own in Wokingham and a sufficiency of worldly goods, she wanted neither to occupy nor lease it.” Instead, Alma donated St Ernan’s to the Representative Body of the Church of Ireland and until 1983 it was used as a retirement home for clergy families before becoming a hotel.

Gillian Berwick includes St Ernan’s in Splendid Food from Irish Country Houses, 1990, “St Ernan’s House (now Ernan Park) on the 8.5 acre St Ernan’s Island near Donegal Town is close to some of the most beautiful scenery in this scenic county. Its creator sited his house on the low point of the island to protect it from the wild Atlantic winter gales. He built protective walls so that he could cultivate trees, and laid out attractive walks around his little domain. The restored interior of this manor house is strikingly beautiful with antiquity, colour and pattern inspiringly blended. As befits such a house, service is personal and charming. The views along the Atlantic Coast are of miniature white farmhouses and tiny sheep dotting the distant hills like a stage setting. It is an image of Ireland that people dream about. The gracious dining room glows with warmth. The cuisine is well nigh perfect. To stay at Ernan Park is to live a little.”

Hotel recipes in Gillian’s book include Stuffed Aubergine, Baked John Dory with Fennel Sauce and Strawberry Cheesecake with Irish Whiskey. Sounds like the components of a great three course dinner! An accompanying sketch by the Dublin based late architect Jeremy Williams shows the interior of the bay window with its coffered semi dome. The guide states there were 11 bedrooms: bed and breakfast was priced from 28 to 39.50 Irish Punts. Five course dinner, 17.50 Punts. The proprietors were Brian and Carmel O’Dowd and the hotel was open from Easter to the end of October each year. The hotel closed in 2010 and the building and island returned to use as a private residence and demesne.

St Ernan’s Blues is the intriguingly named 2016 novel principally set on the island. It is part of a mystery series by Magherafelt County Derry born London based Paul Charles featuring Inspector Starrett. “A lone building on a small island off Ireland’s Donegal coast, St Ernan’s is politely known as a ‘retirement home’ for priests. The exiled residents are guilty of such serious offences as entrepreneurship, criticising the Church, or getting too friendly with the flock. But things take a turn when Father Matthew McKaye is found dead in the kitchen. Has one of these isolated outcasts committed murder?” Although never used to house errant priests, the clergy connection is historically accurate albeit relating to ‘the other sort’ to use a colloquialism.

“Situated right at the mouth of the River Eske in Donegal Bay, Donegal Town or Fort of the Foreigners, was the town that gave its name to the county,” explains Paul. He describes how tricky it is to find St Ernan’s Island despite its position close to the town, before eulogising on the local natural beauty. “The thing about autumnal mornings in Donegal is that the sun, as it lights up every corner of the rich tapestry of fields; hills; mountains; trees; rugged hedges; blue heavenly skies; faint white clouds and all creatures great and small, does tend to show off our Creator’s magic in all its spiritual glory.” And on wintry mornings as well.

An entry in Ireland’s Blue Book of Charming Country Houses and Restaurants, 1996, states: “Quietly situated on a wooded tidal island, connected to the mainland by a causeway, St Ernan’s offers the perfect respite from the hectic pace of everyday life. There is a unique warmth and sense of serenity at St Ernan’s. It recaptures the charm of the past – quietude in a relaxing friendly atmosphere. The house, built in 1826 by John Hamilton, a nephew of the Duke of Wellington, has 12 bedrooms, each with a private bath or shower, telephone and television. Most have stunning views of the sea and countryside. The dining room is one of country elegance where the cuisine is based on fresh local produce. From this perfectly situated house the countryside may be explored. There are several excellent golf courses nearby. Horse riding, fishing and bicycle hire are also available locally. St Ernan’s offers the perfect escape from the pressures of modern life to the finest traditions of Irish country house hospitality.” As well as recording an additional bedroom, the Blue Book includes increased rates. Bed and breakfast ranged from 55 to 52 Punts. Dinner was 26 Punts.

The house is as deep as it’s wide: the north, east and south fronts are arranged around a west facing courtyard. Until recently it was painted pink, except for the window surround quoins and verandah columns which were picked out in white. An early 20th century photograph shows the ground floor either painted a dark colour or unrendered. The current pale cream colour scheme works well, changing tone as often as the unpredictable Donegal weather. The two storey east front is the most visible elevation from the mainland. A full width slimly columned verandah stretches across the whole of the ground floor and beyond, terminating in angled walls providing further shelter. The three middle bays of both floors have typical Georgian sashes. The outer bays of the ground floor have three sided chamfered projections: the righthand one has typical Georgian sashes; the lefthand one has very narrow sashed openings. This narrowing is the only element of asymmetry on the otherwise perfectly balanced elevation. The outer bays of the first floor have paired sash windows divided by a mullion.

In contrast to the late Georgian or Regency appearance of the east front, the two storey plus attic south front looks more Victorian. Gabled projections with frilly bargeboards stand tall on either side of an asymmetrical two bay setback. The lefthand projection has two paned sash windows; the righthand projection has quoined corners and Georgian sash windows to the first floor and attic above a large Doric pilastered and corniced bowed extension with five two paned windows. A conservatory projects from the central setback under two paired sash windows divided by mullions. The two storey six bay with attic and visible basement north front is plainer and looks the most Georgian due to a proliferation of multipaned sash windows, except for the two storey extension with its larger pane sash windows. It has just one gable to the left of the slate pitched roof. The west front comprises the courtyard with irregular gabled late 19th century extensions.

Rubblestone walls line the 190 metre long causeway linking the island to the small peninsula of Muckros. The 3.4 hectare roughly oval shaped island, now densely wooded, stretches to just over 300 metres at its widest point. At the far end of Muckros, close to the main road between Donegal and Ballyshannon, stands the gatelodge to St Ernan’s House. Kimmitt Dean (mostly) admires it in Gatelodges of Ulster, 1994, “Circa 1845. A pretty little lodge delightfully situated defending the entrance to a ‘furlong of causeway built by his grateful tenantry’ for John Hamilton, to save him from Atlantic tides on his approach to a retreat which he built in 1825. He had become disenchanted with Brown Hall which he had inherited on his father’s death in 1811 [which contradicts George Seaver’s account of John being orphaned age seven]. A one and a half two up two down Picturesque cottage with ornamental serrated bargeboard to gables. One elevation aligned obtusely with the entrance gates, a single storey canted bay window looks on. In uncoursed square masonry now painted over, a flat roofed rear return and entrance hall recently added are hardly compatible.” The gatelodge is closest in style to the south front of the big house. County Donegal: wild. Donegal Town: wild night out. St Ernan’s: wildness tamed.

Categories
Country Houses Design

Beyond Drumquin + Castlederg Tyrone

Those Nameless

There’s a sense of forgottenness. Time doesn’t stand still; it’s in reverse. The hands of the universal clock are turning backwards. Tock tick. Morning mist lies heavy over the bogland as the distant fiery sun slowly rises just beyond the blurred horizon. A drive across the borderlands of Counties Tyrone and Donegal offers up three historic places infused with nostalgia. Live, work, die. First, a cottage with a red tin roof, a red front door and green window surrounds next to an outbuilding with a green tin roof and red doors. Neither twee nor spoiled. Second, a string of monochromatic farm buildings excelling at form following function. Three road facing barns in descending size right to left, like a structural version of a Russian Matryoshka nesting doll. Third, crumbling stone remains and a scattering of tombstones inherently part of the landscape: nature completed, not violated. A mutual enrichment. The grassy graveyard is a metre or more higher than the trench like path to the open arch of the fragmented church, giving a feeling of being buried. Lived, worked, died.