My gamely fascination for the subject of English country houses is perhaps best communicated by the sentiments of J. Paul Getty, who once said of his sudden and wholehearted enthusiasm for the decorative arts, “It wasn’t that a spark was struck. It was rather that a blazing torch was applied.”[1]
In July, I embarked on the Attingham Summer School, a renowned academic program which provides an unparalleled opportunity to experience historical collections within the unique context of the English country home. Over the course of three weeks, my fellow participants and I visited more than 30 residences, some virtually untouched by time, others the accumulations of generations.
Prior to Attingham, I spent six years working at the J. Paul Getty Museum. In that time, I developed a comprehensive
knowledge of the museum collection, while honing a focus
in 17th-
and 18th-century furniture. As an art historian with a decidedly French focus,
I expected to find particular delight in the British properties containing
objects of French and Huguenot manufacture, though as the program advanced, I realized the houses and collections I
was most captivated by were not necessarily the ones with which I was most
familiar. Parham Park and Arundel Castle were intriguing for their accumulated collections
and romanticized visions of English history, whereas intimate residences such
as Broughton and Belmont held surprises such as rare Chinese wallpaper and a
renowned collection of clocks, respectively. I also enjoyed connecting my knowledge of the Getty
collection to aspects of the estates we visited. For instance, the Museum’s
famed silver fountain once stood in the dining room apse at Kedleston Hall (I
noticed its mate is still insitu!). Uppark, pictured above, was home to the Getty’s 1768 Sèvres “egg
vases.” Elsewhere I noted Mortlake tapestries similar
to hangings which will be lent to the Getty
as part of an upcoming tapestry exhibition I was involved in preparing.
Our group had incredible access to resplendent country estates and to tutors and scholars who offered thoughtful presentations and engaging workshops throughout. Purposefully juxtaposed visits such as the afternoon we went to both the stately Kedelston Hall and the dreary Calke Abbey made for the liveliest of conversations. Fascinating debates and discussions carried our group from one property to the next. Though the itinerary was exhaustive (and at times exhausting!), the schedule always seemed to allow for a bit of respite in each property’s magnificent pleasure gardens.
In the end, these three weeks seamlessly complimented and augmented my professional experience while raising fresh questions and generating new intellectual interests. While I'd devoted many years to the study decorative arts, I certainly left Attingham with new authority.
[1] J. Paul Getty, The Joys of Collecting (New York: Hawthorn Books, 1965), 63.