How did the ‘renovation’
of the American Boathouse end up with it being torn down? Where is the line between private property rights and preservation to be drawn?
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| Pamela Casper did this painting of the boathouses during my workshop several years ago. |
Earlier this year, I’d read in the paper that the boathouse
was going to be ‘restored’ as a private residence. “[T]he Reeds want to buy it
and spend approximately $5 million rebuilding it from stem to stern, and
convert its use to a residence, with room underneath for a yacht,” reported
the Penbay Pilot. “They need, however, to change town ordinance so that the zone in which the boathouse sits –
Harbor Business District – will allow residential development at the
first floor level.”
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| The boathouse in happier days. |
What I didn’t realize is that ‘rebuilding’ it meant razing the
original structure and starting again. I’m apparently not the only one who
thought that. “It would not have lasted very long vacant in its old age. We
residents are so glad the Reeds wanted to repair it and use it, after going
through changes in zoning, etc. We are fortunate that the American Boathouse
has been saved,” wrote
local historian Barbara F. Dyer.
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| Maunaloa off Camden. |
I have an architectural historian visiting me this week. I
thought she would enjoy seeing the schooner fleet at Camden. Instead, she watched
me goggle and sputter at the irredeemable loss at the head of the harbor. I
haven’t painted at Camden since the Camden
Classics Cup in July. In my absence, the boathouse has vanished and a new
building is being constructed on the site.
Not that I have any say in the matter, of course. I’m not a
Camden voter, and the boathouse was private property. At $2.4 million for a
derelict building, it was also too expensive for any local yokel to buy. That’s
the fate of waterfront property these days: it’s the exclusive province of the
rich.
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| Drying sails, by Carol L. Douglas. Private collection. The boathouse is a soft background. |
But the boathouse was an icon on Camden harbor, and now it’s
gone. It’s figured in my paintings, and been the subject of many other artists.
That long sloping building was difficult to draw correctly, and its
green doors against the red shed next door set the mood of artwork done from
the landing side of the harbor.
Wealthy people like Chauncy Borland have been coming to
Maine to rusticate in the summer since the end of the 19th century.
Seeing old things torn down to accommodate them is nothing new. In that sense,
the end of the American Boathouse is historically more accurate than any true
renovation would have been.
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| Spring Pruning, by Carol L. Douglas. This house was also razed to make room for a bigger model, this time in Rockport. |
But swank structures are never particularly paintable. Old
or new, they sit astride the landscape, dominating it. In contrast, the homes and
businesses of modest men fold themselves into their settings, becoming one with
them. I doubt I’ll be painting that part of the harbor any time soon.
Forty million visitors were on track to visit Maine this summer. They aren't coming here to see luxurious new houses on the coast (although they may be staying in them). How do we negotiate the line between private property rights and the need to preserve the Maine that tourists love?
4 comments:
Swank structures are not particularly paintable! What a sentence there Carol and oh how true. I painted that boathouse once and it sold in Rhode Island very quickly. Change sucks! Love your posts.
I don't know why it is, but House Portraits of McMansions are particularly unenjoyable to paint. Maybe because there's so much of them they leave no room in the painting for anything else?
My favorite house portrait is "Pool with a View" by Bruce Bundock. He has a real knack.
https://goo.gl/images/jhLXG5
It is because McMansions have no sense of proportion. They are usually disproportionately large compared to neighboring houses, with a footprint disproportionately large for their lots, from which all pre-existing mature trees and shrubs are typically chopped down (along with whatever older, usually better-built and better-designed house has been torn down to make way for the McMansion), to be replaced by all new, puny plantings and saplings dwarfed by the McMansion, instead of the mature trees and shrubs that had grown up over many decades to form a protective shade canopy around the previous house and over the lawn and street, to the benefit of the whole neighborhood.
And McMansions are just as incongruous within themselves, comprising architectural elements from all different eras and styles cherry-picked and jumbled together with no sense of line of proportion. No effort whatsoever is made to integrate the architectural components of a McMansion into one unified design, or to integrate the house harmoniously into the existing landscape or neighborhood. To me they look like they've fallen from some strange planet in outer space where mismatched bits and pieces of unrelated houses are arbitrarily selected and thrown together at random.
It is because McMansions have no sense of proportion. They are usually disproportionately large compared to neighboring houses, with a footprint disproportionately large for their lots, from which all pre-existing mature trees and shrubs are typically chopped down (along with whatever older, usually better-built and better-designed house has been torn down to make way for the McMansion), to be replaced by all new, puny plantings and saplings dwarfed by the McMansion, instead of the mature trees and shrubs that had grown up over many decades to form a protective shade canopy around the previous house and over the lawn and street, to the benefit of the whole neighborhood.
And McMansions are just as incongruous within themselves, comprising architectural elements from all different eras and styles cherry-picked and jumbled together with no sense of line of proportion. No effort whatsoever is made to integrate the architectural components of a McMansion into one unified design, or to integrate the house harmoniously into the existing landscape or neighborhood. To me they look like they've fallen from some strange planet in outer space where mismatched bits and pieces of unrelated houses are arbitrarily selected and thrown together at random.
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