Preservation Month Part IV - The Parlor

Parlor, 2012 (photo by James Caulfield)

During Preservation Month 2020, we have explored each of the first-floor public rooms, looking at the history of the spaces, their use after the house passed out of the Glessner family, and the restoration work undertaken to return the rooms to their late 19^th-century appearance. Our final article looks at the parlor, a recent project, and one of the most extensive ever undertaken.

Parlor, 1923 (photo by Kaufmann & Fabry)

Whereas the library was the room most utilized by the family for their quiet moments together, the parlor was specifically designed for entertaining friends and special guests. Additionally, its intended use for musical performances is reinforced by the fact that the ceiling lacks the beams seen in the other first-floor rooms, and is also nearly one foot lower in height, both details improving the acoustics.

Parlor, 1888 (photo by Absalom D. Edgeworth)

The three large windows facing south into the courtyard are the most fully realized expression of Richardson’s innovative plan to turn the public rooms away from the street. Not only do the windows admit the maximum light and warmth from the sun, (most welcome on the wintery days when the family was in residence), they also look out into a fully-enclosed space, thus providing an unusual level of privacy that was rare in an urban residence.

The entrances into the parlor are oriented to heighten the intimate feel of the space. A pair of doorways from the main hall flank the central fireplace on the east wall. On the west wall, a single central doorway leads to the dining room. With this arrangement, the long vista common in many large homes, designed to emphasize the spaciousness of the house, is broken, creating a space complete unto itself, and not simply part of a progression of rooms.

Parlor, 1888 (photo by Absalom D. Edgeworth)

The fireplace features finely carved detailing beneath the mantel shelf, utilizing the acanthus leaf motif seen elsewhere on both the exterior and interior of the house. Richly colored Siena marble, in soft yellow and rose tones, compliments the pale-yellow tiles of the fire back which measure six inches long but only one-half inch in height. The tiles were designed by the English firm of Craven Dunnill & Co. which also designed the tiles for George’s fireplace and the floor in the entry vestibule.

Craven Dunnill & Co. tiles in fireplace

A similar color palette was utilized in the window draperies and the portieres in the doorway to the dining room, a Morris & Co. pattern known as Kennet. The two doorways to the main hall featured elaborately embroidered portieres of another Morris design, which Frances Glessner had stitched by women at the Chicago Society of Decorative Art and delivered to the house in November 1888. (In 1918, the Glessners donated these portieres to the Art Institute of Chicago and one panel remains in the collection although it is not currently on display).

Embroidered Morris & Co. portiere (Courtesy of the Art Institute)

The walls of the parlor are framed with a simple broad trim that connect the baseboards to the picture rails up above; the same trim is used around the windows. The original wall treatment was a floral wallpaper executed in various shades of yellow, as determined by analyzing small fragments uncovered by finishes analyst Robert Furhoff in 1984. The source of the wallpaper is unknown, and it is not a Morris & Co. design. 

Original wallpaper and color palette

Following the installation of electricity in 1892, the room was redecorated with a richly colored burlap wallcovering executed by the English designer William Pretyman. At the same time, various portions of the wood trim, including the cove moldings, were covered with gold leaf, to coordinate with the metallic paints and glazes used in the wallcovering.

Parlor, 1923 (photo by Kaufmann & Fabry)

The last major change made to the room took place in 1904, when the Glessners purchased new shades for the wall sconces, selected while spending the winter in Santa Barbara, California on account of Frances Glessner’s health. The shades chosen were designed as six-petaled flowers, each petal being made from an abalone shell. The incredibly rich colors of these shades when illuminated, combined with the coloring of the wallcovering, must have been truly enchanting.

Surviving abalone shell shade illuminated

The parlor was utilized for all formal entertaining, and its size reflects the Glessners preference for smaller gatherings, where they could easily interact with all their guests. When larger musical entertainments were held, furniture could be removed and additional seats added, extending into the main hall if necessary. On a few occasions, such as the full sit-down dinners held for the symphony orchestra, the 900-pound Steinway piano was moved out of the room as well!

An interesting photo of the parlor was taken on March 31, 1938, the day that Armour Institute took possession of the house. The Glessners’ original six-foot-wide dining room table, and several chairs, are seen being used by members of the Armour faculty. It is the best surviving picture of the dining room table, which was sold off in the mid-1960s; its present whereabouts are unknown. The photo also reveals the faded condition of the Pretyman wallcovering, which helps explain why it was painted over soon after.

Armour faculty in the parlor, seated around the Glessners' original dining room table (photo by Foto-Ad Studio)

When the Lithographic Technical Foundation moved into the house in 1945, the parlor was converted to use as a research laboratory, like the adjacent dining room. The north doorway to the main hall was closed off to accommodate an alcove for a large light box, and the oak floors were covered in linoleum.

Research laboratory, 1946 (photo by Hedrich Blessing)

After the Chicago School of Architecture Foundation took possession of the house, the parlor and dining room were renovated for use as exhibition galleries. As the original sconces were missing, track lighting was added to the room, and the walls were painted white, the original picture rail being utilized to display exhibit panels and artwork.

Installing the 1973 Arts & Crafts exhibition

By 1974, the process of converting the parlor to a more accurately restored room was begun with the removal of the track lighting and the recreation of period light fixtures. These were based on the original sconces used in the second-floor main hall and were later replaced by more accurate sconces in 1983, complete with reproductions of the original hand-blown glass shades. The parlor was used to display original Glessner furniture, decorative arts, and steel engravings in Isaac Scott designed frames, although not necessarily as the Glessners originally displayed them.

Parlor, circa 1974

A major change to the parlor took place in 1979, when the original custom-made Steinway piano was returned to the house, a generous gift of Gardner Cowles, publisher of numerous newspapers and Look magazine. During a visit to the house, Cowles learned that the original piano was in the president’s house at Harvard University, where he sat on the board of trustees. He purchased and donated a new Steinway to Harvard, and the original Glessner piano was released and returned to its original home. It was dedicated at a concert in April 1980 with a recital by Etsko Tazaki, a protégé of Sir Georg Solti, who attended the celebration with his wife, Lady Valerie Solti.

Sir Georg and Lady Solti at the piano dedication, April 1980

Although the original Pretyman wallcovering had been painted over numerous times, a small unpainted section had survived behind the back plate of one of the wall sconces. In 1991, this sample was analyzed by Grammar of Ornament, a Denver-based firm that specializes in the restoration of historic interiors. A sample section was prepared and placed above the picture rail on the west wall. For the next twenty years, plans of being able to recreate the wallcovering remained a dream.

Surviving section of unnpainted Pretyman wallcovering

Pretyman wallcovering sample created in 1991

In June 2009, long-time docent Aileen Mandel (class of 1986) passed away. Having provided a generous gift for the restoration of the parlor shortly before her death, her three children generously directed memorials to the project, providing seed money for the recreation of the wallcovering. Less than a year later, in May 2010, Bunny Selig, a member of the first docent class of 1971, died, leaving a generous bequest to Glessner House, along with a second gift in honor of fellow 1971 docent class member Robert Irving. Selig, who minced no words, often noted during her tours that “Mrs. Glessner would be mortified to see her parlor looking like this,” a reference to the pale “Campbell’s tomato soup” orange walls and bare windows. The Mandel and Selig gifts, combined with a grant from the Driehaus Foundation and other gifts, allowed the long-awaited restoration of the parlor to begin.

Parlor prior to restoration, February 2011

Grammar of Ornament was engaged to recreate the wallcovering, utilizing a canvas that had the same texture as the original burlap. New technology allowed for a deeper analysis of the Pretyman-designed original, revealing eight layers of metallic paints and glazes, which were painstakingly replicated, using two stencils highlighted with hand-painted details. The wallcovering was installed over three days in early October 2011.

Reproduction wallcovering in production, 2011

Touching up seams during October 2011 installation

Prior to this, the original wallcovering had been carefully removed, labeled, and stored, for future analysis and study. Lee Redmond Restorations made the necessary repairs to the wood finishes and gold leaf trim that had been obscured by paint through the years.

One of the original Kennet drapery panels had been donated to the Art Institute in the 1970s. It was pulled from storage so that the original colors could be determined. That information was then sent to Trustworth Studios in Plymouth, Massachusetts where a digital version was created and printed onto fabric, closely replicating the original appearance. Appropriate tiebacks and fringe were obtained, and brass tieback hooks were installed utilizing the same screw holes as had been used for the originals. John LaMonica replicated the drapery rod brackets, which were also reinstalled into their original screw holes.

Original Kennet panel (Courtesy of the Art Institute)

The ample 10-foot-long banquette, which originally sat in front of the windows, had been discarded by the Glessners in 1905, when John Glessner inherited his parents’ sofa. An analysis of two photographs of the parlor, taken in 1888 by Absalom D. Edgeworth, provided detailed information, allowing for an accurate reproduction of the banquette, down to the number of tufts in the seat, the height of the fringe, and the size and design of the pillows. Bob Furhoff designed the piece and advised on color and fabric. This work was undertaken by Fine Woodworks and G&A Upholstery.  (Note: I remember the day Scott Chambers from Fine Woodworks called to make sure the banquette would fit through the front door, to which I replied that the front door was big enough for H. H. Richardson to fit through! He didn’t get the joke, so I assured him the banquette would fit).

Banquette, 2012 (photo by James Caulfield)

The parlor was dedicated at a great celebration and ribbon-cutting held on October 14, 2011. Aileen Mandel’s three children cut a teal ribbon on one of the two main hall doors leading the parlor, the color symbolizing her courageous battle with ovarian cancer. Members of Bunny Selig’s family cut a purple ribbon at the other door, purple being the only color Bunny wore for the last several decades of her life. Guests were treated to an illustrated lecture on the life and career of decorator William Pretyman, given by docent John Waters.

Aileen Mandel's children at the ribbon-cutting, October 14, 2011

Today, the parlor is a fitting tribute to these two docents, who devoted countless hours sharing their passion for Glessner House and its family with countless visitors. The work of numerous craftsmen to restore each element of the room allows those visitors to experience the space exactly as intended, as though they had been invited by the Glessners for an evening of conversation and music.

Parlor, 2012 (photo by James Caulfield)

The Death of John Wellborn Root -- January 15, 1891

January 15, 2016 will mark the 125^th anniversary of the death of one of Chicago’s greatest architects – John Wellborn Root.  His unexpected passing sent shock waves through the city and the architectural community.  Not only had Root just turned 41 years old five days earlier, but he and partner Daniel H. Burnham were in the early stages of planning the World’s Columbian Exposition – by far the largest and most important project their firm had ever undertaken.

The tragic story of Root’s death has oft been retold.  As recounted in the death notice published in the Chicago Tribune on Friday January 16^th:

“Chicago will be shocked at the news of the untimely death of John W. Root, easily its most distinguished designing architect, if indeed he had his superior in the whole country.  In the prime of his life, his vigor, and his usefulness; in the midst of his invaluable services to the World’s Columbian Exposition, he seemed to be the man of all others who would be sure to continue for many a day one of its most esteemed and beloved citizens.  In the flower of his days pneumonia has suddenly ended his life, as it has during late years ended the lives of so many men young and strong like him.  Less than a week ago he was in the best of health.  Saturday he took a Turkish bath and later at his own house thoughtlessly stepped into the street to hand a friend to her carriage, becoming slightly chilled in so doing.  During Sunday he received at his hospitable home a visit from the Eastern architects visiting the scene of the World’s Fair, and that night he was seized with a severe chill, which proved the beginning of a fatal illness.  Even as late as noon of that day of his death he seemed in a fair way of recovery, but death came suddenly last evening.”

Daniel Burnham, an intimate friend and business partner of nearly 20 years, paced the floor of Root’s house, waiting for each update from the doctor.  When the end came, Burnham is supposed to have responded “Damn, damn, damn!”  considering not only life without his talented partner, but how he would proceed alone with the monumental task of planning and executing the World’s Fair.  Root had been appointed as the “consulting architect” for the Fair, which gave him supervision over all architectural related matters.  Lyman Gage, one of the directors of the Fair, noted that “In general it may be said that there is no man in any profession whose place cannot be filled.  But it really seems to me that John Root was an exception.”

The funeral took place on Sunday January 18^th from the family home at 56 Astor Street (now 1310 N. Astor Street.)  Root had designed the house in 1888, one of a series of four charming Queen Anne row houses for James L. Houghteling.  

Following the service, conducted by Bishop Cheney, the casket was sealed and the remains taken to Graceland Cemetery for internment.  Pall bearers included Burnham, Art Institute president Charles L. Hutchinson, and William Pretyman, a talented English designer and close friend of Root (who would later execute the hand-painted wallcovering in the Glessner parlor).

PRAIRIE AVENUE CONNECTIONS

Burnham and Root were responsible for the design and remodeling of more than a dozen residences on and around Prairie Avenue.   Their first commission on the street in 1873, the residence for John B. Sherman, president of the Chicago Union Stockyards, was the second commission ever received by the new firm.   (Burnham met and married Sherman’s daughter Margaret during construction and the couple moved into the house upon its completion).

In 1880, Root married Mary Louise Walker, a daughter of James M. Walker of 1720 S. Prairie Avenue.   The newly married couple took up residence with the Walkers, but Mary Root died a month later at the age of 21. 

GLESSNER CONNECTIONS

The Glessners were long-time friends of Daniel Burnham and would have known Root through that friendship.  Frances Glessner and Root’s wife were both members of The Fortnightly.  She sent flowers and a note of condolence to Root’s widow, which were acknowledged with the following note on March 18^th:

“Dear Mrs. Glessner

I thank you from my heart for the beautiful roses, and above all for the sweet sympathy which I know accompanied them.  I shall never forget that you thought of me when I most needed help.

Always faithfully yours,

Dora Louise Root”

John Root and John Glessner were also fellow members of the Chicago Literary Club.  At the time of Root’s death, the Club occupied rooms on the third floor of the Art Institute, a Burnham and Root designed building at the southwest corner of Michigan and Van Buren.  At the meeting of the Club on February 16, 1891, the following resolution was read, which sums up in a few words Root’s importance to the architectural community, as well as his value as a friend and Club member.

“In the death of JOHN WELLBORN ROOT the Literary Club has lost a valued member and Chicago has lost a gifted man.

“Everybody knew him as an architect and artist.  Our city is full of his work; his great buildings tower above our business streets, monuments of the strength and breadth of his genius; and quiet homes along our residence streets bear witness to his grace and refinement.  All of us and all of the members of his chosen profession knew his ability as a writer.  But the full scope and range of his versatile nature were less well known.  Only a few knew him as a musician, and yet he had rare musical gifts.  Many surpassed him in mere brilliance of execution, but he had few equals in interpreting the spirit of the great composers.  To hear him play from memory Mendelssohn’s “Songs Without Words” was a revelation.  It stirred the deepest emotions.

“He died at the age of 41, young even for his years, doing the best work of his life, and giving promise of still greater development; like all true artists, dissatisfied with what he had accomplished, and hoping yet to do something great.

“As our fellow member and our friend has gone from us, and we shall never see another design from his hand, it is a pleasure to remember that this home of our club is all his work, the building, which was perhaps his most artistic creation, and the decoration and arrangement of these rooms, to which he gave much loving thought and much of his precious time.

“We shall remember him not only as a great architect and a versatile genius; but as a modest gentleman, a delightful companion, and a faithful friend.

Bryan Lathrop,

William L. B. Jenney,

Irving K. Pond,

Committee”

NOTE:  Among those who gathered in Chicago in January 1891 for the planning of the World’s Columbian Exposition was landscape architect Frederick Law Olmsted, who planned and supervised the landscape design for the fairgrounds.  Frances Glessner noted in her journal on January 12^th, “At dinner time Mr. Olmsted came with his satchel to stay with us.”  He remained with the Glessners until January 18^th, leaving Chicago after Root’s funeral. 

Electricity comes to Glessner House

In last week’s article we looked at the early history of electricity on Prairie Avenue, beginning with the installation of incandescent lighting in the Joan W. Doane house in 1882.  In this installment we will look specifically at electrical service at the Glessner House. 

When the Glessners completed their home at 1800 S. Prairie Avenue in December 1887, the house was lit throughout with gas lighting.  An interesting and “high tech” component of the gas lighting service in the house was a central control panel located in the hallway leading from the main hall to the master bedroom.  This panel (shown above) contained ten pairs of buttons that allowed the Glessners (or their staff) to turn on a single gas wall sconce remotely in each of the ten main rooms of the house – first floor main hall, second floor main hall, library, parlor, dining room, and the five family and guest rooms.  This eliminated the problem of having to walk into a darkened room, providing enough light to enter and then light the other sconces.  The panel only worked for the gas lighting, it was never converted once electricity was brought into the house.

In early 1890, the Chicago Edison Company began advertising for customers on the South Side between 16^th and 35^th Streets, as they were completing a new power plant on Wabash near 27^th Street (see advertisement above, from the January 25, 1890 Chicago Tribune).  One of those interested in obtaining electrical service was John Glessner, who indicated that his house was already wired for service.  Presumably the wiring (which would have been direct current) was installed at the time the house was built, although the building specifications make no mention of it.

Work on installing electrical service took place during the summer of 1892.  John Glessner provided an update on the work in a letter dated July 26, 1892 and sent to his wife who was already at their summer estate The Rocks.  He wrote, in part:

“The electric fixture men have done better today but by no means well, though I believe tomorrow will get them out of places where I don’t want them to be – the rooms where there are unlocked drawers, etc.  The pictures are down from our bedroom walls; indeed there are only 12 more to be taken down in the house.  George’s have been replaced and I’ll replace those in the rear guest room tomorrow. . . The painters have finished up stairs with the exception of one side of Fanny’s dressing room where the fixture man marked it . . . The light brackets have been replaced in the parlor.  Just 4 weeks this morning since you left.  What a lot of dirt has been made here since then!”

When John Glessner joined his family at The Rocks on Friday July 29^th, he reported on a serious incident that had taken place as a result of the conversion from gas to electric.  Frances Glessner recalled the incident in her journal:

“John does not look well.  The weather has been exceedingly hot in Chicago, he has been bothered by workmen in the house and to finish all the night before he left for here, a workman had left a gas pipe open when the gas was not turned on – then when it was turned on in the evening Maggie and John walked through the corridor with a lighted taper not knowing it was escaping and the whole thing exploded, burning them both – John’s neck, ears, hair, mustache were burned – his neck, ears, and a place on his head are blistered.  Maggie was burned worse.  The linen closet took fire – but this was not discovered until the next day.  The plate glass from the loggia door was blown out and blown across the street into McBirney’s stable.  The roof beams were moved out of place but not seriously.   Dr. Dudley, Dr. Kirk and Dr. Adams could not be found.  Dr. Billings dressed the burns.  Maggie’s dress was cut from her arms, her burns dressed and she was put to bed.  John left for here on Thursday morning.  We knew nothing of all of this until he told us.  Lizzie Benson and Alice are taking care of Maggie and the house.”

(Note:  “Maggie” refers to Maggie Charles, a servant in the house).

The installation of the electric fixtures had another major impact on the house – it resulted in the repapering in a number of rooms, presumably because of the need to open up walls to access/install wiring.  The most dramatic example of this was the installation of the William Pretyman designed wall covering in the parlor, but many of the other rooms received new wallpapers as well, all Morris & Co. designs.

Wiring in the basement portion of the house was run through exposed wood conduit attached directly to the plaster walls and ceilings, some of which is still visible today, such as this section in the laundry room.

Although wiring was frequently run directly through the gas piping, which served as a form of conduit, it appears other wiring was run through the walls with no conduit at all.  The wiring above was discovered in the corner guestroom in 2012 while installing modern wiring for new wall sconces and was run along the outside of the gas pipe.

Many of the original gas fixtures, including those in the main hall and parlor were converted to electricity.  Photographs taken in 1923 show other rooms with different fixtures - whether these were installed in 1892 or at a later date is unknown.

Although the house was converted to electricity, it is interesting to note that other forms of lighting were not abandoned altogether.  In 1901, Frances Glessner wrote instructions to the staff that would remain in the house during the summer, taking care of Mr. Glessner when he traveled back to Chicago from The Rocks.  In those instructions, she states in part:

“In closing the house up in the evening, watch the kerosene lamps after they are lighted to see that they do not blaze up too much and smoke.  The lamps in the parlor are very apt to do this. . .  Light all of the kerosene lamps in the library ever night while the gentlemen are at home.”

She also added a reminder to conserve the electricity, adding “Be as careful as possible of the lights, using none where they are not needed.”

Unlike today, where electrical service is standardized, in those early years different companies produced their own version of receptacles (outlets) and plugs.  When you purchased a lamp or other electrical device, you would then attach the appropriate plug that worked with the system in place in your home.  The Glessners utilized the “Diamond H” plugs, manufactured by The Hart Manufacturing Company of Hartford, Connecticut.   The plug was large by today’s standards, and featured two round prongs with a thin flat prong in between. 

This plug is still attached to the Daum lamp which sits on the desk in the courtyard bedroom.

This plug is attached to the lamp which is used on the partner’s desk in the library.  The plug and receptacle still function perfectly today.  Advertisements for the Hart company praised their version of the receptacles, noting that they had a mechanism that closed the holes when the plug was removed, making them dust-proof and dirt-proof.

Interestingly, Frances Glessner does not record her impressions upon returning to Chicago in October 1892 and seeing her house illuminated with incandescent lights for the first time.  It would be the first time she lived with electric lighting - it would not be installed at The Rocks for another twenty years.

Parlor restoration, part 2

A major element in the restoration of the parlor is the recreation of the elaborate hand-stenciled burlap wall covering created by William Pretyman.  Since 1991, a sample of the wall covering has been in place over the doorway leading from the parlor to the dining room.  The sample was created by The Grammar of Ornament, the Denver-based company now recreating the actual wall covering.  It is based on an intact section found behind the broad back plate of the wall sconce on the north wall.  Since that section had never been exposed to sunlight, the colors were perfectly preserved.

When the first sample was created in 1991, technology was limited in terms of “reading” the complex wall covering, which featured various layers of paint, glazes, Dutch gold, and more.  As such, the sample on view through the years is actually a bit rough compared to what the Glessners had in place.  As preparations were made for the new wall covering this year, advanced technology allowed for a much more thorough analysis of exactly what Pretyman created.  Combining these findings with historic photographs showing the entire room, Ken Miller of The Grammar of Ornament was able to identify specific features within the design including birds, flowers, and foliage which bear a striking resemblance to William Morris designs found elsewhere within the house.  In addition, the exact composition of the layers was determined, thus an extremely accurate reproduction will result.

When the Glessners first moved into their completed Prairie Avenue home in 1887, the parlor featured floral wallpaper in various shades of yellow and gold.  For reasons unknown, within five years they decided to remove that paper and redecorate the room.  France Glessner’s journal entry for June 19, 1892 indicates that “Mr. Prettyman (sic) called yesterday afternoon to consult about paper for the rooms.” 

A few things were learned about Pretyman’s process when the original wall covering was removed last week.  (The original panels have been carefully stored should technology become available in the future allowing the subsequent layers of paint to be removed without damaging Pretyman’s original design).  For one, it was determined that each section of wall was covered with a single piece of burlap, including the large unbroken north wall which measures nearly 7 by 19 feet.  (A penciled notation of the north wall indicates the exact length of this piece 18 feet, 8-1/2 inches).  In addition it was learned that the paste used to adhere the burlap to the wall was apparently not sufficient to keep the burlap stable, so hundreds and hundreds of small brads were nailed through the burlap into the wall to keep it in place.  (The removal of all these brads proved to be a slow and arduous task).  The brads were found around all the edges of the wall covering, and were randomly found throughout the panels as well.  Since the brads were clearly installed under the layers of paint, it was determined that Pretyman completed all of his design work on site, starting with the raw burlap and adding all the subsequent layers, rather than completing all of some of the work off site at his studio.  Gold leaf was also added to the bead trim around each panel giving it a finished look.  That small but important element is being recreated this week by another craftsman.

Pretyman had a fascinating career, and designed a number of significant interiors in Chicago before returning to his native England in the 1890s.  As part of the dedication of the restored parlor on Friday October 14, museum docent John Waters will present a look at the life and career of this important but largely forgotten designer.   Since all of his other Chicago commissions have been lost, the parlor wall covering will serve as the only surviving link to Pretyman’s years in Chicago.

Next week:   The William Morris draperies

Parlor restoration begins

Today marks an important milestone in the history of Glessner House Museum – the start of the long-anticipated restoration of the parlor.  This project has been planned for twenty years and dates back to 1991, when a sample of the hand-stenciled wall covering (on display in the room since that time) was first produced.  Reproduction of the intricate wall covering was very expensive, so the project was put on hold until funds could become available.

In June 2009 the museum lost one of its most ardent supporters and valued docents – Aileen Mandel.  Aileen was passionate about the restoration of the parlor and her family graciously directed memorial gifts to the project.  In May 2010, another long time supporter of the museum and one of its original docents – Bunny Selig – passed away, leaving a generous bequest to the museum which allowed the project to move ahead full force.  Additional funding was provided through a grant from the Richard H. Driehaus Foundation, and gifts in memory of Bunny.

In addition to the recreation of the wallcovering, funds will be used to reproduce the original William Morris drapes and portieres, rebuild the long-lost banquette, and recreate other missing details.  The room will also be reconfigured to more closely match the floor plan used by the Glessners.  Articles in the coming weeks will focus on specific elements of the restoration.

The dedication of the restored parlor will take place on Friday October 14 beginning at 6:00pm with a reception in the coach house.  Representatives of both Aileen’s and Bunny’s family will be present as we at long last open the doors to an extraordinary room – a true jewel box space within the museum.  A special treat for the evening will be a presentation by architect, historian, and docent John Waters who will provide a fascinating look at William Pretyman, a significant but largely forgotten decorator who produced the original wallcovering, as well as interiors for a number of significant homes and buildings in Chicago.

Next week:  The Pretyman wall covering