R.I.P. Andrew Geller

Genius, a photo by modernemama on Flickr.

Mid-century architect, designer and artist Andrew Geller passed away yesterday leaving a huge legacy. He will be greatly missed by all. Our condolences to his family at this sad time, we are thinking of you.
Andrew Geller, April 17th 1924-December 25th 2011

View from the hill

Coindre Hall, Long Island. Thanksgiving weekend 2011

Curvy

Panoramic shot of the great room taken by Jake Gorst at the movie shoot yesterday. All those hard lines and angles suddenly transformed into soft curves. How cool is that? Very cool, is the answer. Very cool indeed.

The Making of a Movie

When Friend of Beach House, documentary movie maker, historian and writer Jake Gorst, asked if we would mind him filming our house (designed by his grandfather, noted architect Andrew Geller, we were thrilled. I had assured him the weather would be beautiful, skies blue and absolutely, positively, no rain, guaranteed. That turned out to be a promise I couldn't deliver but at least it was warm, dry and bright inside. Our house is the last of the houses to be shot for the movie, which is now officially in post-production. It's scheduled to be released Spring 2012 - tomorrow in film making time - and I can't wait to see all the fabulous Long Island modern architecture featured. Until then we'll have to make do with a few shots of the shoot...


Jake Gorst on the last day of shooting for an upcoming Long Island Modern Architecture film


Lenny Marks checking the shot, lighting and a million other details


Tracey Gorst, Jake Gorst and Lenny Marks reviewing the Martini Shot


The final, final shot of the day, starring Cassis the Cat. I guess this is the Pousse-café shot!

San Francisco and beyond

San Francisco skyline


Fort Point


Golden Gate Bridge


St Dunstan's Bell at Sterling Vineyard, Napa Valley

Vegetarian Home

For the last few weeks I've been cooking only meatless meals at home. Notice I say cooking not eating because when we order take-out we still choose our old favorites and a plan to make clear vegetable soup flew right out of the kitchen door when we opened a bottle of Heartland Stickleback and found it needed a really juicy steak to do it justice. That entailed a quick sortie to the local steakhouse, purchase of delicious rib-eye with garlic butter to go so we could enjoy the now fully breathed wine. Our local haunts can rest assured we will still be ordering heavy on the fish and meat when we eat out but when we make a meal at home it no longer contains any protein with a face.
This decision comes not from any ethical standpoint but rather from a lack of interest in the meat offered at the supermarket. We stood together one Saturday morning gazing at the cuts of meat on offer and I knew I just couldn't face simmering another ragu, stewing another shank or grilling another chop. Call it laziness if you will but it felt like an epiphany: I will only cook vegetables, beans and lentils this week. That week became two, then a month and more until, somehow, we are one of those households that doesn't eat meat.
This is actually nothing new. For the first few years we were together we were vegetarian, driven by one part conviction and one part poverty. We lived on hearty stews made from carrots, onions and split peas, ate a huge amount of homemade Indian and Chinese dishes and learned new recipes from the "Cranks" cookbooks. It was only when we moved to a village with a master butcher who specialised in game that we introduced meat into our diet. Perhaps if we were able to procure more interesting meat here our vegetarian spree wouldn't have lasted this long. I do know that my stomach thanks me for making the switch-no more bloating and feeling queasy after meals; my only disappointment is that I haven't lost an ounce since I gave up meat.
I don't know if the coming cold weather will entice me to make 5-Spice Shortribs again or if I'll make Aduki Bean Casserole instead. I have a feeling we are in this for the long haul.

Determination

This morning he's tried to drill holes in the dogwood, rhododendron and the teak top on the garden chimes. So long as he stays off the redwood siding he's safe, otherwise I will be enacting wrath of the homeowner, seen here and here against the pretty but destructive Downy Woodpecker

What now?

I love when a long renovation comes to an end, the feeing of tranquility that descends when you know you don't have to be dressed and decent at 7:30 AM, when the day will no longer be interrupted by shouts of "You did want the molding removed, didn't you?" or worse "Can you come here a minute, we may have a problem" and when all the power tools have finally been silenced. Even the mental anguish you experience knowing you went over budget despite swearing you wouldn't or the nagging feeling you overpaid for something trivial, there is, at last, a moment of peace that you, in your naivety, imagine will last forever.

At some point, though, this security blanket of home repair denial will be rudely snatched away from you, leaving you exposed and shivering in the cold light of reality. For me it came with the trifecta of the garage door that would no longer close properly, the loose mortar on the chimney and the holes in the fence the fencing guy swore didn't need replacing because it was "good for at least two more years".

we set to work. The garage door was repaired by us and when the temporary fix no longer did the trick an "expert" came to fix the problem... and caused another bigger issue that blew the motor. Needless to say the firm's promise to make good meant they ran in the opposite direction and for the whole summer we parked the car outside. But winter will be here before we know it and neither of us fancied digging the car out of a snow bank so I gave in and called another firm. The garage door was fixed without further drama and at a better price than the first guy quoted. The chimney cap blew off in the hurricane, so we locked in a date to fix that and the crumbling cement pronto, except every time the masons came to start the pointing it rained. And by rain I mean tropical storm downpours. Today they found a few hours of sunshine and got the job done. The fence? Well in a rerun of this scenario, we braced and secured the fence. I was promised two more years and I will make sure I get those last few months, if I have to stand there and hold the thing up day and night.

So all was done and I was singing a happy song until I heard a thud that seemed to come from under the dining room floor. Just as the last issue had been taken care of, just as I was thinking we were done for this year, one of the basement windows, the one that had been nailed in place seven years ago by a contractor who thought it wouldn't open and then found he couldn't get it shut, one of a suite of four, fell off its opener. Just because it could.

After Irene

Hurricane Irene blew through bringing floods


and high winds.


The beach disappeared under a high tide


that washed the kayaks into the playground.


The storm had other consequences, not least the debris and getting dressed in the dark.


But we ended the day as we usually do, watching the sunset over the bay.