Infuse heart into the home from home

“There is no reason, neither in prose nor in rhyme, why an entire house should not be a poem.” Ella Church Rodman

Hopefully, Mother’s Day weekend was as wonderful as mine. Since one day cannot carry out the full celebration, the “party” has risen, in my family anyway, to the entire weekend. It starts on Thursday night and runs until midnight on Sunday. Extra rest in an excusable indulgence, like extra chocolate, extra newspaper reading, and extra sleep.

And if that’s not enough, in this section of Connecticut where we make our home, the kitchen tours have been perfectly calibrated for Mother’s Day “weekend” so I was happily transplanted to two different towns. .. with a third next week. … all in the name of “Happy Mother’s Day.” Call it a wonderful coincidence or a perfect event planning: celebrating home reaches the hearts of mothers, whether we like it or not.

Rather spectacular in every way imaginable, these tours go beyond the family home tour offered by many historic societies or historic preservation trusts in cities across the country. They specifically zoom into the most honored room in the house: the kitchen. Kitchen architects and designers remain throughout the tour, beaming with pride in the perfectly decorated rooms they have created for their clients. As they should. Most of the work is exquisite and deserves recognition.

And recognize that the sponsors did it with all their might. It was attended by hundreds of aspiring renovators who toured the tour looking for ideas, curiosity seekers eager to see what the next door neighbor has been up to, professionals just checking out the competition, and HGTV and Food Network junkies on loaded trucks, kitchens in scratch tour our collective hotness.

As an aspiring kitchen renovator (my oven is falling apart, my refrigerator door hardly stays closed, and my stove is in its last stage), I had a strong desire to see what people are doing in the kitchens around me. from my neck of the forest. Of course, Fairfield County, Connecticut can be quite an overwhelming neck to grip; the hardest part is just wrapping my brain around the range of the touring kitchens. Because we’re not just talking about breaking down vinyl flooring and replacing it with hardwood here. We’re talking professional six-burner kitchens, imported marble countertops, double Sub Zero, hand-made tile backsplashes, and hand-painted friezes. Copper countertops and double width limestone agricultural sinks. Trips to Europe, with an interior designer in tow, in search of the perfect wardrobe. Or the vacation you spent wandering the Paris flea market in search of the greatest chandelier. One of the houses was renovated for four years; Granted, its 10,000 square foot size required a committed team of experts to eventually pull it off. But his final impressive result undoubtedly stunned me.

Now, there is certainly nothing wrong with any of these indulgences. We can call it “protecting our investment” or “infusing our home with beauty” or “doing careful research.” The touring kitchens were, with few exceptions, true works of art.

And as a visual artist, I appreciate the need for transformative beauty as much, if not more, than the next person. In fact, my need to fill my kitchen with things that I love, things that I find beautiful, is a very motivating adventure for me. Always looking for wonderful roosters or lamps or bedding or candles – I am almost always on the hunt.

But as he toured house after house, he continued to be inspired more by understatement, as always. By the old little house that didn’t scream “Look at me!” Which spoke to me through its understated and unassuming authenticity. Wonderful proportions, clean color and organic materials. Beautiful but simple fabrics. I like beautiful things. But I like that they come to me in the same way that nature does. “The earth laughs in flowers,” Emerson wrote, and its beauty is certainly inescapable for those who are willing to slow down enough to fully appreciate it. But the flowers don’t scream. They gently persuade. They whisper “Come here”.

As I move through the initial steps toward a complete kitchen remodel, I hope I can transfer my need for organic beauty to the designer with whom I will eventually work side by side. I hope my desire for open shelving, a fairly common solution in kitchens across Europe, will override the dreams of expansive (and expensive) large-scale cabinet designers. I hope that my wish for a glass door refrigerator, which I have had for over two decades, is not greeted with skepticism by well-intentioned planners who worry about children’s fingerprints and messy living habits getting in the way. in the supposed need for impeccable order and cleanliness. I hope that my desire to impart my own stamp, through my collections formed during almost a quarter of a century of marriage, is not satisfied with the desire of a “professional” for something less artistic. Or for something that appeals to your aesthetic, more than mine.

Because the only thing I expected to see more in these wonderfully designed kitchens was the owner’s handprint. Or that of their children. I would have loved to have seen a crumb or two. Or any suggestion that the owners cooked there. That dough, some days, was spread out on the marble countertop and the vegetables were sautéed on one of those six burners. In fact, the phrase “functional kitchen” has evolved to distinguish between kitchens that are designed to be simply beautiful and those in which the owners actually cook.

I’d like to think that some kitchens are, from decades of use or recent renovations, where roasts are bathed and hearts are repaired. Where bills are paid and where lunch boxes are packed. Where we value the notion of parenting: through meals and through conversation. With preparation along with presentation.

Few things move us like our kitchens. We have long recognized them as home from home. Let’s just hope that in the real estate frenzy, as well as in the era of excessive consumption that we find ourselves in, we keep our hearts at the heart of our homes. And that we are able to translate it aesthetically so that our loved ones benefit. Through fabulous scents or soothing patterns and colors. Through popular art collections or through handmade dinner plates. Through ceramic or placemats.

Because therein lies the challenge. As always. Breathing heart into the home.