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Coopershill House Sligo + Francis Bindon

Louder Sang that Ghost

Really, it’s the perfect Georgian box in the perfect grouping in the perfect setting. Coopershill House took 19 years to build; over 240 years later the house and estate are still in great shape. Dr Roderick O’Donnell succinctly states, “Coopershill is a classic Irish Georgian house – dead symmetrical.” Dr Maurice Craig observed it was “built of locally quarried ashlar, it has a fine bold cornice, as have nearly all Bindon’s houses.” Bindon, Francis Bindon. Coopershill was first attributed to this Irish architect by the Knight of Glin. Much more anon.

Deane Swift generously described Francis (they were friends) as “the greatest painter and architect of his time in these Kingdoms”. His designs tend to group the windows together towards the centre of the façade, leaving a mass of masonry on the corners. This occurs on the façade of Coopershill and at the country house he designed in County Kilkenny, Woodstock. It lends a certain monumentality to the architecture. Coopershill is designed to be seen from all angles: it’s a standalone cubic block devoid of wings, every elevation symmetrical, the house with no back.

A bit like Castle ffrench in County Galway. Coopershill may once have had parapets like those of Castle ffrench. “We recently visited Florence Court in Enniskillen,” says Simon O’Hara. He inherited Coopershill a few years ago from his parents. “I think the main block is about the same size as Coopershill.” These two houses share more than their massing in common: both have heavy rustication, a Gibbsian doorcase and a first floor Venetian Room. This is named after the Venetian, or Palladian, or Serliana window over the entrance door. At Coopershill, amusingly, the sidelights and semi-circular arch over the central light are blind. Inside the Venetian Room, it appears as a regular rectangular six pane over six pane sash window.

There are another two blind windows on the narrower west, or side, elevation. Unlike the entrance, or north, front, they don’t have wooden frames and glazing so are less convincing. “We repainted them to retain the symmetry of the architecture,” he records. But it is the similarity between the two principal elevations, the north (entrance) and south (river facing) which is most striking. They’re virtually identical. It’s a game of spot the difference: the end bays of the south elevation are closer to the corners giving more regular spacing to the window sequence. This even distribution lendsit a more conventional Palladian appearance; the grouping of bays on the north front make it look a little idiosyncratic, somehow more Irish.

The doorcase of the north elevation is replicated on the south except for glazing replacing the door itself. Under this central window, the wall looks unfinished. Could steps have once been there? Or was this elevation originally intended to be the entrance front? “The house took so long to complete,” Simon reckons, “that changes were made during the course of construction. It’s strange how the landing cuts across the Venetian window on the south front. A flying staircase would solve that design flaw!” Indeed a flying staircase like that at Woodbrook, County Wexford, wouldn’t interrupt the landing window. It’s a quirk and a charming one at that. The slope of the land from north to south would reveal the full extent of the basement save for the rubble wall. Below the wall is a kitchen garden which is put to good use for the Monsieur Michelin worthy top notch top nosh dinner:

Candlelit dinner is served in the dining room which looks out towards Kesh Mountain. Owner and Chef Christina O’Hara reminds us that “all the vegetables are from the kitchen garden” and “everything is cooked on the Aga”. At some stage an Irish rhubarb appears with a hint of curry. Nasturtiums add a dash of colour to the pale monkfish. Silverware, glassware, Wedgwood and Mrs Delaney coasters and placemats perfect the table arrangement.

Before dinner, Simon leads a tour of the top and bottom floors. “We’re slowly recolonising the whole house.” His parents spent £100,000 replacing the roof which is cleverly designed to capture rainwater between the two valleys and funnel it down to ground level. The second floor contains family as well as guest accommodation. The first floor – the Venetian Room, the Pink Room, the Blue Room and so on – is all given over to guest accommodation. Simon knows his stuff: he’s President of Ireland’s Blue Book which promotes the country’s finest historic hotels, manor houses and restaurants. Vintage travel luggage labelled “ABC” is piled high in a hallway. “Arthur Brooke Cooper”.

“Look at the architectural detail,” he observes, pointing to the swirl marking the juncture of the doorcases and skirting boards in the staircase hall. A pair of niches (a Francis Bindon motif) add more finesse. The basement is more or less still used for its original purpose. Although perhaps the servants wouldn’t have had a billiard room… A state of the art washing machine stands next to its cast iron Victorian forerunner. The wine cellar has historic earthenware pots from Hargadon Bros on O’Connell Street, Sligo. That pub is still going strong.

The two Desmonds (Fitzgerald and Guinness) were known to arrive unannounced at country houses to investigate their architecture. They certainly did at one other O’Hara house. The Knight of Glin wrote a piece called “Francis Bindon (c.1690 to 1765) His Life and Works” for the Quarterly Bulletin of the Irish Georgian Society April to September 1967 (10 shillings). He makes a convincing case that Coopershill was very likely designed by this architect.

“Perhaps Bindon’s very last mansion is Coopershill, County Sligo, although like most of these houses, no documentary evidence exists for it. Tower-like and stark, of similar proportions to Raford, it is made up of two equivalent fronts composed with a central rusticated Venetian window and door, and a third floor three-light window. The fenestration is reminiscent of Castle’s demolished Smyth mansion in Kildare Place, Dublin. Coopershill is sited particularly well and stands high above a river reminding one of the feudal strength of the 17th century towerhouse. As at Raford, the roof is overlapping and 19th century.

The history of the building of Coopershill is an interesting and typically Irish phenomenon for the house was finished in 1774 though started in about 1755 for Arthur Brooke Cooper ‘before engaging in the undertaking, had provided for the cost a tub of gold guineas, but the last guinea was paid away before the building showed above the surface of the ground’. Cooper had to sell property, and it took eight years to quarry the stone. This 20 years of planning and building explains the extraordinary retardé quality of the house considering its recorded date.”

The Knight isn’t gushing in his summation of Francis’ architectural talent: “With the major exceptions of the Curraghmore court and Castle Morres, the Bessborough quadrants and Newhall, his ventures into the architectural field are not particularly distinguished. As he was a gentleman amateur, moving in the best circles in Dublin, he obtained commissions from his friends and relations. He made the most of his connection with the professional Richard Castle and was quite happy to borrow many ideas from him. His houses are mostly in the south and west of Ireland, an area in which Castle had no connections, so theirs was probably a dovetailed and friendly relationship.”

His critical tone continues, “On looking at the photographs of his buildings… one cannot help noticing the solid, four square somewhat gloomy quality of many of them. They are often unsophisticated, naïve and clumsily detailed but they nevertheless amount to a not unrespectable corpus, worthy to be recorded and brought in from the misty damps that surround so much of the history of Irish Palladianism.” He considers there’s one exception: “If it is his, the forecourt at Curraghmore is certainly his masterpiece.”

Desmond Fitzgerald introduces his piece by writing, “The name of Francis Bindon is today occasionally heard of either as a dim portrait painter to be found in the footnotes of Swiftiana or as the occasional architectural collaborator of Ireland’s most prolific Palladian architect, the German Richard Castle. What role he played in the partnership remains somewhat obscure, but Bindon’s name after those of Sir Edward Lovett Pearce and Castle ranks third in importance in the chronological history of the Irish Palladian movement… Bindon’s documented oeuvre is small but I shall seek to show that a number of houses that cannot be stylistically ascribed to Pearce or Castle probably can be given to him. He designed possibly only one public building [Mountrath Market House], but practised as a portrait painter.”

Coopershill survives amazingly intact. “It was a secondary house for most of the 19th century,” explains Simon. “Annaghmore was the principal O’Hara seat.” So while Annaghmore was much altered, Coopershill remained untouched by Victorian aesthetic enthusiasm. To cut and paste William Butler Yeats’ poetry: Coopershill is an ancestral house surrounded by planted hills and flowering lawns, levelled lawns and gravelled ways; escutcheoned doors opening into great chambers and long galleries. Perfection.

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Architecture Art Design Luxury People Restaurants Town Houses

Clea Irving + sketch Mayfair London

A Play on Words

Sketch Mayfair Parlour Ceiling © Lavender's Blue Stuart Blakley

sketch, according to the Oxford Dictionary, is, “A rough or unfinished drawing or painting, often made to assist in making a more finished picture.” Or, “A rough or unfinished version of any creative work.” Or, “A brief written or spoken account or description, giving only basic details.” Or, “A short humorous play or performance, consisting typically of one scene in a comedy programme.” Or, “A comical or amusing person or thing.” sketch is also Mayfair’s most up for it eatery with so much art and music it’s institution as installation. If art makes what was not there before, sketch creates what was lacking.

Sketch

“Over 50 artists are represented here,” relates the beautiful Art Curator, Clea Irving, gazing at Annabel Karim Kassar’s Trophée Stag Light, Mark Lawson’s Bell Ash Tray, Ron Gilad’s Dear Igo Spider Lamp. Names, names. “My job is curating, assisting artists – sourcing plates!” she laughs. A conduit. Melbourne born UCLA educated Clea also arranges Sunday evening art classes in the Parlour from life drawing to lessons on design. The salon reborn. “It’s a Grade II listed house. It was previously the home of a balloonist, suffragettes, occupied for a spell by Dior, then RIBA. We’ve 190 staff but no elevator, just the original staircase. As the bar is being cleared at 4am, the pastry chef arrives. We’re 24 hours, front of house, back of house. It’s a little bit Downton Abbey.”

Sketch Martin Creed Gallery © Lavender's Blue Stuart Blakley

The Glade is a verdant decadent fecund indoor garden brimming with 1950s French rattan furniture. “It was dreamt up by partners slash life partners Carolyn Quartermaine and Didier Mahieu, both artists,” explains Clea. “An enchanted fairy tale forest in central London. A postcard provided inspiration for the découpage walls.” Mrs Delaney on weed. The Gallery, a colourful cavernous cacophony by Turner Prize winner Martin Creed, is about to be revamped, given a rollercoasting makeover by Turner Prize nominee David Shrigley. Both downstairs restaurants serve Viennoiseries and afternoon tea with Dubonnet and Gin, the Queen’s favourite tipple. The menu is decorated with images from the 1902 Sears Roebuck catalogue.

“Restaurateur Mourad Mazouz oversees the interiors,” explains Clea, “And master chef Pierre Gagnaire looks after all the restaurants including the two Michelin star Lecture Room and Library upstairs. The interiors personify Mourad’s style and taste, his sense of humour. They’re purposely over ornamental, over the top, exuberant, playful, funny, tongue-in-cheek, about performance. Unlike Christo and Jeanne-Claude revelation through concealment, sketch’s décor is extrovert!” A barrel vaulted coffered kaleidoscope, a translucent tectonic Teutonic tartan, hovers over a pale monochromatic moonscape. Enigmatic eggs, USOs (Unidentified Stationary Objects), hatch humans (completely out of the loo). Blue steps for boys; red steps for gals.

JP Eating Afternoon Tea at sketch © Lavender's Blue Stuart Blakley

She suggests, “People like to feel intimate when fine dining. Even though there are 46 covers in the Lecture Room and Library, the padded walls create that effect, softening the acoustics, adding ambiance.” Designed by South African born London based Gabhan O’Keeffe, burnt amber upholstery merrily zigzags across carpets and chairs, a marble Adam fireplace adding a moment of sobriety. Found and reflected objects fuse to become an eclectic whole. The restaurant as gallery, the Gallery as restaurant. Visual stimulation for digestion. “London’s where it’s all happening. There’s access to the best history, teachers, media. We’ve five of the best art schools in the world: Central St Martin’sCourtauld, Goldsmiths, RCA, Slade.” And with that, Clea finishes filling in the outline of sketch. The picture is complete.

Easter at sketch London © Lavender's Blue Stuart Blakley

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People Town Houses

Ely House Dublin + The Order of the Knights of St Columbanus

Bram’s Lullaby

1 Ely House Dublin © lvbmag.com

Lavender’s Blue visit one of Dublin’s grandest and most historic houses. Following a herculean £5 million restoration, Ely House has never looked better, adapted and ready for its fourth century of continuous use. Now that’s what we call sustainable development. Back in 1771 when the house was built, Dublin’s population had quadrupled in a matter of decades making it the seventh largest city in Europe. Still smaller than the modern day London Borough of Wandsworth. The Wide Streets Commission of 1757 paved the road (no pun) for the development of streets and squares. Now that’s what we call town planning. Building leases on plots dictated height, mostly four storeys over basement, and often even each storey height. A pleasing uniformity was the outcome.

2 Ely House Dublin © lvbmag.com

Exteriors are typically devoid of ornament, relying on quality of brick and pleasing proportion of wall-to-window ratios for their beauty. Except of course for what have become known as the famous Dublin doors. Extraordinary zest was invested into creating eye catching arrangements of heavily panelled doors, lead paned sidelights and semicircular fanlights. Wrought iron railings and balconies are the only other relieving features. This architectural restraint makes the explosion of exuberant interior plasterwork all the more stimulating. And if you think the recent boom was party time, it doesn’t hold a (Georgian) candle to the shenanigans our bewigged predecessors got up to in these ornate settings.

3 Ely House Dublin © lvbmag.com

Chronicler Mrs Delaney, the Lavender’s Blue of her day, recorded one of her meals, “First Course: soup, rabbits and onions, veal, turkey pout, salmon grilde [sic]. Second Course: pickled salmon, quails, little terrene peas, cream, mushrooms, apple pye [sic], crab, leveret, cheese cake. Dessert: blancmange, cherries, Dutch cheese, raspberries and creams, sweetmeats and jelly, strawberries and cream, almond cream, currants, gooseberries and orange butter,” [sick]. Potatoes are not mentioned because they were not considered part of a set ‘dish’; they were handed round. Vast quantities of wine, chiefly claret but also port, accompanied the food. In The Four Georges, Thackeray writes, “Singing after dinner and supper was the universal fashion of the day. You may fancy all the dining rooms sounding with choruses, some ribald, some harmless, but all occasioning the consumption of a prodigious deal of fermented liquor.”

4 Ely House Dublin © lvbmag.com

Built by Henry Loftus, Earl of Ely, Ely House on Ely Place opposite Ely Wine Bar faces down Hume Street towards St Stephen’s Green. It spans the full width of Hume Street and true to form is four storeys over basement with particularly elegant wrought iron railings, balconies and even lamp standards. A parapet partly conceals the roof. But where most Georgian Dublin houses are three bay, Ely House is a full gloriously greedy seven. Red brick from Bridgewater, Somerset, was an inspired choice of material. The Loftus family seat was Rathfarnham Castle, south of Dublin city centre. Their townhouse, or rather town-mansion, was a fulcrum of 18th century social life. Michael Stapleton, the fashionable stuccadore, was commissioned to undertake the interior plasterwork.

5 Ely House Dublin © lvbmag.com

6 Ely House Dublin © lvbmag.com

Stucco acanthus fronds, acorns, arrows, bay leaves, bows, brackets, cherubs, consoles, corbels, cornices, festoons, friezes, helmets, medallions, panels, plaques, putti, quadrants, quatrefoils, ribbons, roses, rosettes, scrolls, shells, swags and two turtle doves await us. There are more fireplaces than the Lassco Summer Sale. Cararra marble, Sienna marble, oak, take your pick. In fact somebody nearly did. Just before we arrived a wannabe thief tried to make off with one. Both outside and in, Ely House is a template of grand Georgian design and layout. Beyond the Doric Palladian doorcase is a squarish outer hall. Sedan chairs would once have been parked on the stone flagged floor. A dentilled cornice is a subtle hint of the plasterwork to come. On one side of the outer hall, the morning room, now an oratory, is equally serene with windows overlooking Ely Place. But on the other side, the dining room shows Stapleton in full flow. As the panelled window shutters are pulled back, the soft Irish light casts shadows across the moulded walls and ceilings in all their glory. The dining room is painted Mount Panther blue, highlighting Stapleton’s three dimensional wonders.

7 Ely House Dublin @ lvbmag.com

Straight ahead of the entrance door, the outer hall leads into the inner hall; what a spectacle! Behold Dublin’s finest staircase, raising the functional to the fantastical. Here is the first clue, all six feet of it, that Stapleton or possibly Loftus was a fan of ancient classical mythology. A statue of Hercules, carved out of the same Portland stone as the three flights of stairs, acts as a human sized newel post. Under a mahogany handrail and below small lead medallions and squiggles, groupings of plant-like wrought iron balusters alternate with giltwood figures representing the Labours of Hercules. In ascending order are the Erymanthian boar; the Stymphalian bird; the Nemean lion; another Stymphalian bird; the Cretan bull; the Arcadian stag; and the three headed dog Cerberus. The staircase basks in natural light from a Palladian window framed by Corinthian pilasters. An obligatory secondary staircase, connecting the basement to the top floor and all levels between, is a marvellous counterfoil to the main staircase. It’s an essay in refined understatement with plain timber balusters.

8 Ely House Dublin © lvbmag.com

The first floor is laid out with typical 18th century taste. An enfilade along the front of the house is formed by a reception room on either side of an anteroom. In this instance the anteroom is a single bay music room. One of the decorative plasterwork roundels on the wall is hollow to improve acoustics. The Pillar Room was once known as the Attic Theatre. This space was created by the Earl’s widow. When Henry Loftus died in 1783 his young widow, the girl about town Dowager Countess, threw together two rooms to make a theatre. Ionic columns and pilasters support the ceiling of the enlarged space. The muted colours of the drawing room allow the plasterwork to do the talking. Romulus and Remus appear with the wolf in the central marble relief of the mantelpiece.

9 Ely House Dublin © lvbmag.com

Ely House was the home of Sir William Thornley Stoker from 1890 to 1911. His brother Abraham (Bram) Stoker was author of Dracula. Since the 1920s the house has been the headquarters of the Order of the Knights of St Columbanus. This Order was founded in Belfast by James K O’Neill to promote Catholic faith and education. His experience as the priest of an inner city parish led him to believe that intelligently applied Catholic principles would remedy social ills and permeate society with the charity of Christ. This was the basis of the programme of study which continues to underpin the Knights’ endeavours. Canon O’Neill died in 1922. Mid 20th century offices built in the rear garden provide a source of income for the Order. It’s not many buildings that over the course of their history have housed a raucous aristocrat, religious order, a Thai restaurant (the previous use of the Knights’ members’ room in the basement) and hosted a gothic horror writer. Now that’s what we call provenance.

10 Ely House Dublin © lvbmag.com