1 Observatory Circle

The official Vice Presidential residence was designated by Congress in 1974. It's official name is the Queen Anne House and the property is still owned by the Navy. The 9,000 sq ft structure was built in 1893 as the official resident for the Superintendent of the Naval Observatory. The compound sits on 13 acres and staff is supplied by the Navy. The Observatory still operates as a research facility where scientist make observations of the sun, moon and planets.

One Observatory Circle, the home Joe and Jill Biden will soon occupy is in the Embassy Row area of DC. The house is painted white brick with a hip roof.

I love the all American Lenox white china and "Tuscan Classics" crystal, used in the Vice Presidential Maison. White linen napkins are embroidered with the vice presidential seal.

The 2nd family has a tradition of borrowing art and various items from museums, the dining table is on loan from the State Department.

Monochromatic furniture and window treatments bring focus to artwork. This piece is by artist Helen Frankenthaler.

Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving to Everyone !

We have much to be thankful for in America. Thanksgiving is a time to reflect. This season is also a time of gratitude and renewal for our country. We've just elected a new President and although there is much adversity in the economy, there is much to be hopeful for. I've decided to embrace the message of hope this year and strive to bring out the best in others and myself. I believe we will again prosper as a nation but it won't be without sacrifice. There will be uncharted paths that must be taken and at times it may hurt but we will get there. When we do, we'll know what it looks like, feels like, we'll cherish it... hold on to it. I look forward to that.

The Best is Yet to Come.

Arts and the man

As January approaches, I've been thinking of this quote more and more:

"I see little of more importance to the future of our country and our civilization than full recognition of the place of the artist. ... I look forward to an America which will reward achievement in the arts as we reward achievement in business or statecraft."
-John F. Kennedy at Amherst College, 1963

How long has it been since we had a leader who put that much emphasis on the arts? Are we finally moving in the right direction?

Here's hoping.

These Four Walls

Whenever I visit historic Richmond,VA I don't normally think of interior design other than southern traditional but now, I'm beginning to . While traveling with my husband on business and with lots of time on my hands I discovered the most wonderful shop you would love to find anywhere....it is, "These Four Walls". Located on E. Cary St. These Four Walls is the type of home furnishings store you would expect to see in a contemporary urban city. My perception of Richmond's design aesthetic is changing. This shop is more international than most. The owners are world travelers and I discovered beautiful cabinets and tables from India, Indonesia, Mexico and China. Many of the accessories are crafted by local artist. I found Indian pieces made of reclaimed wood and teak harvested responsibly from plantations. This store has a very earthy and organic feel. You don't have to decorate your entire space with imported or sustainable items but a few pieces in a room certainly add visual interest and an eco-consciousness to your decor..... Next time you're in Richmond, do stop by.

Rob Cline - Manager/Design Consultant

How Beautiful !

Love this painted distressed cabinet.

Can't you see this periwinkle settee in a foyer?

Red high gloss Mexican chairs are great with this colorful table.

A wild drive with Charles Ives

Back from New York, I unpacked more than winter clothes. I’ve got tons of story ideas to pursue and new musicians to hear, and the Kirov Chorus is still thundering in my ears.

I’ve also been listening to Charles Ives compositions. On purpose.

Musical experimentation is something to salute, as is the fierce desire to write whatever you want, public be damned. But I just can't get on the same wavelength with Mr. Ives. He reminds me of the French majors I knew in college: wordy for the sake of it. The NEA folks had sent us CDs in advance, and I was not happy about ripping open the envelope and finding Ives’ "Concord" Sonata for piano.

Ives dedicates the sonata's movements to American writers and thinkers, and I do connect with “The Alcotts,” the most lyrical segment. There’s dear Beth, rippling away on the keys in a parlor: nostalgia with the right hard edge of reality.

Problem is, there are other movements. I’ve tried to enjoy the tangle of “Emerson” and “Hawthorne” and “Thoreau.” For a moment something connects, and all the dissonance and whirling-dervishness falls into place. Wait! I am transcendental, too! I have a headache, but I like it! Then comes this ridiculous smash of chords and it all just sounds like somebody throwing a cat at a piano.



Ives toys with you. You think you’re sprinting along, until he ditches you in the woods with nothing to read but the phonebook. Is that genius, keeping listeners on edge? Maybe. Do half the people who claim to adore Ives say that because they know their friends won’t get him? Hm.

I was fine with writing off “Concord” until something happened that finally gave me a foothold in the work. We went to see pianist Jeremy Denk play it at Carnegie Hall on Nov. 11. Denk walks in with a smile like your shy kid brother, but when he plays, his hands are all confidence. I heard the odd chords starting to blend. It still wasn’t Shakespeare, but the music now had a flow, sometimes pattering like poetry. Maybe I had to think of it more like e.e. cummings. Rapt attention filled Denk’s face, and at times he played with his eyes closed, his head back. It was easy to be pulled along.

Sometimes connecting with art is all about conviction. I’ve seen a weak play sparkle with a fine actor, simply because he believes everything he’s saying. It was like that with Denk, who plays with incredible skill but also what seems to be genuine rapture. This was the farthest thing from someone droning about the genius of Ives. It was about an artist taking a risk, like an actor really selling a flimsy show tune. He doesn’t care what he looks like because he’s brave enough to immerse himself.

We were a silent, impressed audience, but I imagine Denk would play the same way for death-metal musicians or surly 13-year-olds. In fact, at Carnegie Hall that night I saw a teenager in the second row who texted nearly the whole time.

I found myself in the new position of wanting someone to listen to Ives. Look up, kid. You might learn something.

Photo of Cathedral of St. John the Divine and its neighboring sculpture garden by Rebecca Wallace. Photo of Charles Ives is public domain.

The NEA Arts Journalism Institute: Bravo

Now I see why people love autumn in New York. I’m in Manhattan, thanks to my fantastic fellowship at the Columbia University journalism school. I’m taking part in the NEA Arts Journalism Institute in Classical Music and Opera, and I cannot give the program enough bravos.

How much information about classical music can one roomful of American journalists absorb in 11 days? You wouldn’t believe. We’ve been packing the days with lectures, discussions, writing workshops and performances. My notebook is bursting at the lines with ideas for stories and blog postings.

And I have learned to love Beethoven’s Hammerklavier. It helped that we got to see Jeremy Denk play it at Carnegie Hall, and then meet him afterward.



Included in the whirlwind: two operas at the Met, Berlioz’s “Damnation de Faust” and Adams’ “Doctor Atomic.” Our trip backstage yesterday included a chat with the Met’s wig wiz and trivia about the human hair his staff uses. (He likes Indian hair because it’s so strong, and is always looking for that elusive commodity: long gray "virgin" hair, without dye or a perm.)

In a few hours we’ll be back at Carnegie Hall to see Alan Gilbert conduct the New York Philharmonic in a program of Leonard Bernstein music. Mambo!

Photos of Central Park and Columbia J-school by Rebecca Wallace.