Olana State Historical Site

Olana State Historical Site, New York

I am not an architecture aficionado by any means. I'm usually too interested in natural things. Don’t get me wrong, I like interesting buildings, but I rarely go out of my way to see one. I am fascinated by Frank Lloyd Wright’s Fallingwater, but actually taking the time to visit it has never been high on my agenda. I’ve never even been in the Empire State Building in spite of the fact that my grandfather was one of the steelworkers who erected the original mooring mast on the building before it was replaced by the broadcast antenna that currently sits atop the massive Manhattan edifice. On the rare occasion I do visit a historical building, I normally am consumed by taking a microscopic view, or rather a series of microscopic views, camera in hand, searching for good photo ops and imagining what someone who lived in the place experienced in day-to-day life. I look for the odd shape of a window pane, how light showing through a skylight casts a shadow on other elements in the room, a rusty portcullis, the flaking pain around a doorjamb…that sort of stuff. My approach to Olana was no different.

I have lost track of how many times I have driven past Exit 21 on the Thruway, saw the brown-and-white road sign, and paid no attention to it what-so-ever. I knew what it was, but I had little interest in stopping. I was either on my way to Vermont or to Pennsylvania, or (even worse, I suppose) on my way to Windham Ski Area which is off the same exit, but in the opposite direction. Olana was always an afterthought. In fact, much of the Hudson Valley is an afterthought to me. Maybe “afterthought” is a strong word. Let’s say “also-thought”. Given my passion for the outdoors and the environmental movement, one would think I would have an attraction to the early period of “wilderness” themed art and writing that came from this area.

The fact is I don’t. Cole, Cropsey, and Church to me symbolize fantasy, not reality. They were from an era where the wilderness was still feared. It was something that needed to be tamed. Man’s job was to carve out the wilderness, but was never a part of it. Cole’s art in particular annoys me. Wondrous landscapes, often exaggerated in their grandeur, always contained some element of man’s hand…a road, a horse and rider, a distant farm. Church, being a disciple of Cole started his career painting in such the same manner. Following Cole’s death, Church began a modest road to redemption and little by little began to focus on the landscape, eliminating man’s presence. I say “a modest road” because by this time much of the surrounding hills had been obliterated by man. The logging industry and the need for pastures to support the wool industry had devastated the Hudson and Delaware valleys. Perhaps this is why Church went on grand voyages around the world looking for new subjects. What he saw around him had been ravaged by the wheels of the infant Industrial Revolution. What had been the American frontier only a few decades before was now a series of coal-smoking, brick and iron towns connected by turnpikes and canals. I suddenly began to understand where Church was coming from…perhaps.

Frederic Church was a man of means. His art showings were akin to a present-day theatrical blockbuster premier. His constructing a home befitting of an artist such as himself was inevitable. Like many other significant persons of his day, the Hudson Valley was the place to be. However, many of his contemporaries built summer cottages and retreats from their city homes. Church was different. Olana would become his permanent home.

Our tour of Olana was confined to the actual house and the visitor’s center. Rambling around the vast expanses of property would have to wait for another day. However, it came as a bit of a surprise to me that the vast majority of the building and additions to the house were done after Church’s artwork ceased to be the talk of the town. American tastes were changing. The American landscape was changing. Olana became Church’s focus.

The same attention to detail Church had once put into his masterpieces on canvas he now put into the design and decoration of his estate. This wasn’t just relegated to the buildings, but to the grounds, the farm, the gardens, and the miles of carriage roads he built on his property. While the surrounding landscape of his neighbors to the south) Church became, at best, a fledgling conservationist. He planted massive amounts of trees of dozens of varieties on his hillsides only to break them up by carriage paths. The house’s Persian design, while wholly unique even by today’s standards, contains classical elements of middle-eastern floral and geometric patterns. Local stone blends with earth-tone colored brick. The mingling of man and nature reminiscent of his earlier works can be seen throughout the grounds. Church’s use of large plate glass windows throughout the home allow one to gaze upon the natural surroundings as if they were looking at one of his paintings. Olana was, in my opinion, Church’s obsession and attempt to relive his past. However, unlike his previous masterpieces which were intended to gain him fame and fortune, Olana was for his family and friends. It is not opulent, quite the opposite in fact. It was a home, it was intimate, and it was lived-in. Its grand staircase/stage was use for parlor performances. Friends were likely to find a crash space on a bed in a hallway if no other room was available.

Still in all, I found myself consumed by the decorations and the details of Church’s designs. Perhaps because, while now things of museum piece quality: the hats, the tea cups, the frayed sofa, the Aztec sculptures, the taxidermy peacock, a piano, these things were once used and were bit parts of the Church family’s life. Instead of looking through the glass windows at the scenery, I looked at the windows, searching for where the stem had been cut from the plate. I stared at the patterns in the tile work, trying to imagine things in the way Church might have done. I gradually became lost in the details of the home, probably in the same manner Church did and upon departing began to rethink my opinions of the man himself.

Olana is less than an hour's drive south of Albany, New York. The grounds are open during the day throughout the year. Organized tours of the house and studio are available Tuesday through Sunday, and holiday Mondays, from April to October. From November to March, tours are conducted Friday through Sunday. Reservations are recommended, but not required, for groups of fewer than 15 people. (518) 828-0135 www.olana.org.