A step back in time, and for most of us a vicarious step up in class, "Houghton Hall: Portrait of an English Country House," the latest decorative arts exhibition at the Legion of Honor, is a stroll through history, art, culture and architecture via several generations in the life of one of the grandest aristocratic mansions in England. Designed in the 1720s for Sir Robert Walpole, the first Prime Minister of Britain, the fortunes of Houghton Hall, located in Norfolk where white deer still graze on expansive, well-tended lawns, rose and fell with the fate of those who possessed it. At one time or another, it was rented out as a "shooting estate"; was almost torn down; endured long periods of benign neglect; or was nearly sold due to the expensive upkeep. Now both artifact and family home, it's occupied by descendants of the original owners. How do they keep the place warm in the chilly damp of England? Well, radiators, of course, in addition to those fabulous, lorry-sized fireplaces.
The man behind the home's sweep and grandeur, the textured richness of its marbled, soaring, vaulted ceilings, stately columns, mahogany furnishings and acre-sized doors interwoven with classical statuary and art, was William Kent, a genius of early Georgian design and proponent of the Palladian style. A painter, interior designer, landscape gardener and architect, Kent absorbed much from his travels to Italy as a young man, and transplanted elements of Rome's Baroque palaces and mythology to jolly old England. It took 19 years to complete the Houghton from inception to completion.
The show occupies seven galleries, several of which attempt to approximate various rooms in the mansion. Conceived of as a 40-foot cube, the Stone Hall is a vast entryway of white marble and stone with discreet black accents and ornately carved ceilings. It was a paean to the splendors of Ancient Rome, whose wealthy inhabitants weren't known for their restraint. But it's an exercise in minimalism compared with the adjacent, opulent, gilded Saloon state room, with walls covered in crimson silk velvet, known as caffoy, and upholstered furnishings to match. The original fabric cushioning gilt mahogany chairs and stools is 300 years old, and has miraculously survived. Sumptuous as the preceding chamber is Spartan, this space, an homage to Rome, was dedicated to Apollo, god of the arts, and Venus, goddess of beauty. Kent's design for the Dining Room, where gluttonous revelers consumed copious amounts of venison and other game washed down with gallons of claret and beer, was an ode to Bacchus.
Also included are sculptures, tableware, floor-to-ceiling tapestries, handsome soup terrines and a punch bowl - gifts of the King, a coronation gown and train of red velvet and ermine, a double-sized gold snuff box and a selection of 18th-century British paintings by Gainsborough and Hogarth, as well as works by Frans Hals, Artemesia Gentileschi, Diego Velazquez and others. Unfortunately, what we cannot see are the 250 paintings that Walpole's grandson was forced to sell to Catherine the Great of Russia in 1779, to pay off his grandfather's debts, which were in the neighborhood of 50,000 pounds. The collection became the foundation of the Hermitage Museum.
The exhibition will no doubt capitalize on and benefit from the popularity of "Downton Abbey," and the public's fascination with the waning British aristocracy and their rambling estates, titles, leisure time and priceless possessions, but its intended audience might find it a let-down and kind of flat, literally, as in two-dimensional. Murals representing library shelves stacked with books, or one of a giant marble fireplace, just don't cut it. The scale of this extraordinary home doesn't readily translate to a museum setting. In fact, a television program or, in this case, digital footage on display screens more effectively conveys the awe-inspiring qualities of the interiors and the experience of actually being in the space.
Although the house has remained in private hands, it found a savior in Sybil Sassoon, later Marchioness of Cholmondeley, who cultivated the literati, loved the house, studied it and meticulously renovated and restored it when not racing her Bugatti sports car with her husband, the Earl of Rocksavage. Nicknamed "Rock," he was heir to Houghton and reputedly the handsomest rich man in Britain at the time.
A highlight of the show is a gallery focused on the Sassoons' collecting. Sybil and her brother Philip were educated in Paris and patrons of John Singer Sargent, who painted a number of works in this room, including a Velazquez-flavored portrait of Sybil ("Countess of Rocksavage") posed against a black background in a long, flowing garment, The Spanish jewelry she wore in the striking picture mysteriously disappeared. Sargent, whose profitable relationship with the Sassoons lasted nearly a quarter-century, also painted Sybil's elegant mother ("Lady Sassoon"), and sketched other family members in charcoal. The artist's "Head of a Gondolier" hangs on a wall above a coffer (ca. 1700), an astonishingly gorgeous, compact trunk made out of ebony, tortoiseshell, stained horn, gilt bronze and other exotic materials, and created by Andre-Charles Boulle the elder, a status furniture designer who was an 18th-century version of cabinetmaker to the stars.
Through Jan. 18, 2015.