From 1986 until completion of the project in the early 1990s, I served as historical consultant on the restoration of Lake Place as part of the permanent collection of the Minneapolis Institute of Art.  As part of that endeavor I photographed and was provided photographs of the work-in-progress.  Because visitors generally have no sense of the enormous effort (and expense!) undertaken by the museum to restore the house, I present here a few images evocative of the process as praise to the outcome.

Let me take the present opportunity to express what a privilege it was to be involved in the project.  The efforts of MacDonald and Mack, Architects, together with the construction crew--and particularly Alex Wilson wielding fine paint brushes on the walls and stencils--resulted in an extraordinary experience for the thousands of visitors who pass through the house each year.

Now and then during the years of my participation in the restoration process I stayed in the house, sometimes for weeks at a time.  Even at wee hours of the morning, as I sat on the window seat next to the great east windows in the living room, passersby would press their faces against the glass to marvel at the interior; a startling experience at 2 am!   With great attention to detail, the basic structure of the house was strengthened and the finish brought carefully back to its original 1910s condition.  Truly, this is a high point for anyone interesting in experiencing a Purcell and Elmslie--or any Prairie School--house.  Lake Place represents the highest achievement of the firm in every respect for residential design, and can now be experienced, free of charge through making a reservation, by everyone interested in organic architecture.  I believe the Minneapolis Museum of Art deserves high praise for thinking outside the box of the building where they traditionally kept their art works, and undertaking the maintenance of a house at some distance by a lake as part of their permanent collection.  Michael Conforti, especially, was greatly responsible for the level of achievement in the restoration.

My criticisms are few: The reproduction furniture is fine in the living room; the only deviation is the scale of the two box chairs in front of the fireplace (they are a smidge too small, because I think the craftsman failed to realize a wide-angle lens had been used to take the archival photographs); and the craftsman who made the reproduction bedroom furniture now shown in the second floor guest bedroom ("Douglas' bedroom") failed to count the slats in the available photographs and, again, made the bed too small.  The bedroom suite was made for the house across the alley (originally built by Purcell for himself but later known as the Catherine Gray house after his grandmother moved in) on Lake of the Isles, but the set was used in Lake Place as now shown.

People are easily dazzled by the brilliance of the leaded glass, a deterring factor in the restoration of the original curtains.   This is because onlookers are only visiting, not actually using the house, and the windows are experienced more as art objects.  The curtains provide shade and privacy, elements not critical to the short stay of the visitor; never mind the missing atmosphere. There is some question, too, of accurately reproducing the curtain stencils, but I believe this is not insurmountable. The sunscreens that once hung in the two closet doors, and now shiver in dark storage with the old original rugs, should also be shown.  It was their bright color, untouched by the sun behind their closet doors, that determined the level of brilliance to which the much-faded stencils throughout the house were repainted.  I remember how surprised Michael Conforti was at that discovery, and he bestirred the painters to redo some paint work already completed.

I did take issue with the reproduction of the Hanna dining room furniture now shown in the house.  Even though Purcell arranged for the suite (table, chairs, and sideboard) to be photographed in the Lake Place dining room for publication of the furniture, and he did comment what good effect specially constructed furniture could bring to the room, the Hanna furniture is, to my eye, out of scale with the Lake Place dining room.  The museum did also commission two reproduction chairs of the Purcell-designed set that served the space originally, but these, too, were designed for another situation (the Catherine Gray house) and seem to jar.  Also, the great design element of the first Purcell dining set was the combination of three separate tables that could provide different configurations for meal service and entertainment.  None of the tables were reproduced.  The fact is that there never was a dining table and chairs designed for Lake Place, and something has to be there.  The docents, I hope, mention the circumstance of the Hanna suite being presented. 

The "surprise point" chair in the writing nook and its companion chair in the living room have a dark, Craftsman-like fabric.  This is the opposite of what was meant to be in the color scheme of the living room.  Fiber remnants from the original chair--part of the Purcell Papers collection but now exhibited at the Minneapolis Museum of Art--shows that a bright silk covering was preferred; something emphasized by Purcell in his correspondence about furniture for several of their projects.  Brown, whether fabric or leather, was not the intended color.  I still believe that the original fabric, albeit covered over, probably remains on the seat of the second "missing" surprise-point chair known to be in San Francisco.

Finally, there is a slight aura of sterility.  I understand that personal objects cannot be secure, but there are other objects out there that originally belonged in the house.  If these were appropriately exhibited, a better sense of the Purcell family life could be gained by visitors.  I tracked down the china used in the house, as well as the silver flatware designed by George Elmslie and made by Robert Jarvie.  There is a wonderful "ESP" mahogany box made as a companion piece to the living room lamp, as well.  Even though the box belongs to Arthur Dyson--a gift from Purcell in 1960--he lent it to David Gebhard, who did not return it before his death.  The box passed (without consulting Dyson) to the Northwest Architectural Archives, still containing Purcell's correspondence, when the rest of the Purcell materials long held by Gebhard were finally returned to their source from temporary deposit at University of California, Santa Barbara.  While I know Art would like to have the box returned to him, I doubt he would mind it rejoining the lamp after so many decades for a public look-see.

Minor kvetches aside, the whole thing is a wonderful contribution to the world.

Mark Hammons

research courtesy mark hammons