A Tale of Two Cities and a Disputed Patch of Coastal Massachusetts

They say a young person will fall hopelessly in love with the first major city they live in. That might explain why, as much as I adore New York, my favorite city in the whole wide world remains London. From Hamstead Heath to Ladywell, from Raven's Court to Hackney (we have friends in those places), crisscrossing the city on the Tube or double-decker buses is a breathtaking trip through time, passing ancient churches and futuristic skyscrapers. Even as ridiculously expensive as it has all become, walking along Charing Cross Road toward Tottenham Court Road, past the smaller streets with the books shops and nightclubs of my misspent youth, taking in the aroma of the kebab shops, the laughter spilling out from the pubs, and the Babelish cacophony of virtually every language on earth all within earshot at once, I can relax and want to dance at the same time. Londoners who don't know me might consider this presumptuous, but upon my arrivals my friends there greet me with "Welcome Home."

Which is partly why we're thrilled to be heading back in a few weeks for the Year 07 Art Projects (taking place at County Hall [seen above], see details here), and scheduling in as many dinners and pub crawls as humanly possible in between the important work of presenting signature installations by a few of our artists (yes, this part's a sales pitch...no rest for the wicked) including the highly acclaimed, 40-foot-long facial bar graph otherwise known as What Does an Artist Look Like (Every Photograph of an Artist to Appear in The New Yorker, 1999-2001) by Jennifer Dalton and the piece that encouraged nearly a hundred curators (seriously) to head to Central Asia when it debuted at the Venice Biennale in 2005, Trans Siberian Amazons by Gulnara Kasmalieva and Muratbek Djumaliev. We're also bringing some fabulous new work by Rory Donaldson (see this image of a canal in Venice). Please do stop by if you're in town for the art festivities.

Speaking of Venice, though, that's the other city in the world I just can't get enough of. Last time Bambino and I were there it was boiling hot, and we staggered from piazza to piazza nearly drowning ourselves in the public fountains just to cool off. Winding our way through the labyrinth of streets we would continually come around a corner and just gasp at what we saw. At each new doorway or window or crumbling wall, so gorgeous in nearly every detail, the thought would cross my mind that "someone really should paint that," just to be chased out by the realization that very likely someone already has. And the Venetians are rather proud of that, I'd say, and rightly so.

Which brings me to the disputed patch of coastal Massachusetts. It's a patch that someone once painted as well. Edward Hopper, no less. And similar to the way the Venetians react when someone dares suggest they add or subtract something from their city that has been immortalized in art history, the residents of South Truro are up in arms about plans to alter the landscape that Hopper immortalized in his painting "Hills, South Truro" (seen below).



The New York Times has the story:

Walking the beaches and dunes of South Truro, it is easy to see how the artist Edward Hopper and countless others were captivated by the scenery, a sweeping expanse of sand and sunlight bouncing off Cape Cod Bay.

Now some worry that the view from Hopper’s small whitewashed home is in jeopardy, as well as the home itself. The parcel has become the subject of controversy, with some residents trying to protect what they see as a piece of American artistic history and others defending the right of a property owner to build what he wishes on his land.

In May, Donald and Andrea Kline bought 9.3 acres next to Hopper’s house for $6.75 million. They plan to build a house that, with a garage and a pool, is expected to be about 6,500 square feet, according to a sewer application.

Expansive houses dot the dunes here. But the Klines’ proposal has angered some residents who say it will sit atop a ridge directly in the “Hopper Landscape,” a swath of land visible from a large, north-facing window that allowed into Hopper’s home the light he found so captivating. Hopper first came to Truro in 1930 and spent every summer here until his death in 1967. Mr. Kline says the home would be to the right of the Hopper Landscape.

Joan Holt, a Truro resident, opposes construction of the house. “It’s a place that has great historical and artistic significance,” Ms. Holt said. “Our roots here on the lower cape are with two kinds of people, fishing people and artistic people.”

Like the Venetians, the Truro residents understand the value of their artistic roots. Once that landscape is altered, part of what captured the artist's imagination about that place is lost to us forever.

I realize that Mr. Kline has rights in this as well, and that, as some have pointed out, the folks so keen on preserving that landscape could have purchased it in order to protect it themselves (Party of Davos advocates, line up to the right please). But I see nothing wrong with the other residents appealing, heartily, to his better self via the legal means they have to do so. I hope he weighs what's to be gained versus what's to be lost in making his decision.