Friday, December 27, 2013

51 - A Christmas Gift ... or the little red lamp 


Mother and Daddy at the Fairmont Hotel, San Francisco


     As it is the yuletide season, I will indulge myself in sharing a non-hotel Christmas memory.

     When I was about eight, my aunt Frances had given me five dollars for my birthday in September of which I had saved some for a Christmas present for my mother.

Snaggletoothed in 1950

     At the time, there were two dime stores in Aberdeen.  Mack's was the oldest and most popular, officially called a "5 - 10 and 15-cent store," and it was there that I went looking for a gift.  

     Mack's was an excellent store to buy candy, dish towels, can openers, baseball cards, and any number of other useful things.   As Aunt Frances (who was a particularly conservative interior decorator) would have been the first to tell me, it was not the best place to find a tasteful gift for the home.   

     I was confident I had found the perfect Christmas present there, a little red lamp.  I mean all red.  Red glass "hurricane" globe, red imitation-crystal droplets, red base.  It cost $1.29, it was my own money,  and I was thrilled with the beauty of my purchase.

Mother
  Come Christmas morning when I brought out my prize find, I was proud to see Mother's absolute delight with the magnificent gift.  

The lamp and her reaction became instant family folklore.   She explained with great enthusiasm that it  was so special, that she was going to wrap it up and put it away safely in the attic as soon as Christmas was over, and then bring it down every year for the holidays.

      Which she did.  

     I don't know what ultimately happened to my little red lamp, but I do remember it was still out in its prime spot, surrounded by holly and mistletoe, when I returned home in 1997 for what was to be Mother's last Christmas.   
 
 The parents quite a few years later





Another Paris Christmas!
Here are a few hotels decked out for the holidays.
(Hotels are Parisian unless otherwise indicated)

Hotel Raphael --Clark Gable slept here!

The Four Season George V courtyard



 Some creative reindeer at the George V

    
 
 The Hotel Prince de Galles

The Negresco's original aquatic Christmas tree, Nice

Sumptuous courtyard at the ex-Intercontinental, now the Hotel Westin
 (Eugenie, the last Empress of France, wife of Napoleon III, resided here in her declining years)

Teddy bear tree at the brand new Hotel Montaigne

All white at The Meurice (Salvador Dali lived here).












Polar bear at the Lancaster

Courtyard (above) and main lobby (below) of  Hotel Bristol,
 scene of Woody Allen's "Midnight in Paris." 



Looking back at the Biltmore Millenium, Los Angeles 2011

Montmartre
 
 MERRY CHRISTMAS ! 




Your input is welcomed. Click here to send email:  hotel-musings@hotmail.fr

  [Photos are mine, unless otherwise credited]

CROSS REFERENCING … a look at other postings
"Mother" was also featured in blog No. 46 "Grandmother Vivian, Doc and the Others" and No. 49  "Thanksgiving: Ruth and Dickie ... and more about Mother"; Aunt Frances was featured in blog No. 4 "A Two-Dollar Hamburger Under a Silvery Dome" and blog No. 61"Goodbye Rose"   (to access, click on highlighted titles).






Friday, December 13, 2013

50 - The Plaza Athenée on the auction block



THE PLAZA ATHENEE, Paris


Everything for sale, from the chandeliers to the pillowcases

The Plaza Athenée has just joined a line of famous Parisian hotels to shut down for an unlimited duration in order to rebuild and renovate and redecorate from head to foot.  Before completely closing its doors, the Plaza A. announced it would put everything (or just about) up for auction.

  Brenda and I were there bright and early for the first day’s viewing.  No special idea of buying anything, just another aspect of my hobby to be explored.  It was fun having the run of the place, exploring the backstairs and looking through some of the suites throughout the hotel.

In addition to the more predictable chairs and sofas and beds and tables and flowerpots, there was an unexpected concièrge’s letter box, several sleek red hotel bicycles and a few shiny chrome toilet paper dispensers awaiting the highest bidder.

We have had occasional contact with the hotel’s Relais Plaza Grill, and I was interested in seeing some of the things I knew well from that restaurant.  I had long admired a couple of very special art-déco-style vases which stood in the vestibule leading to the grill room. 

Favorite vase, it was not meant to be!
If we could have acquired just one of them, that might have made an extra special memento.   On closer examination, however, the degree of Hollywood-style make believe became increasingly obvious.  

Seen as a whole, everything blends together into a superbly chic creation which in turn becomes the personality of a grand hotel.  However, taken as individual items, the faux semblant is everywhere.  Everything is imitation, much like décors in a theatre or on a Hollywood backlot. 

When we enquired about the black and white vases we had fancied, we were a bit taken aback to discover they were in fact incorporated into the large sideboard they had adorned, so they couldn’t be removed … or stolen!  If we had really wanted the vase, we would have had to purchase the massive piece of furniture onto which it was permanently attached.  

Waiting for the doors to open the day of the sale
For the auction sale, itself, only the grandest address would do.  Although the pre-sale exhibit was conducted at the hotel, the sale was entrusted to the Artcurial auctioneers who have their sale rooms in a sumptuous 19th century private mansion at the foot of the Champs-Elysées.  Visiting the auction house was even more glamorous than was strolling through the hotel.

  I liked the idea of acquiring a momento of the Plaza A., and of the multitude of things to go under the hammer, many of the pre-sale estimates were low.  Experience has taught me, however, you can never count on where auction prices might go.  In the case of a grand hotel sale, just about everything is a copy of something else.  That is, furniture and bric-a-brac are all of style-Louis XVI or style art-déco or style art-nouveau, but nothing is its own original contemporary era.  As a consequence, there is little intrinsic value to anything, all estimates take into account that the interest of potential buyers is generally sentimental and often one of passion.  So prices go where they go, and that can be sky high.

The auction house was almost more elegant than the hotel

This was indeed the case.  We had spotted a handsome statuette of a 1920’s style horse, which we had long admired in the restaurant’s entryway.  It was evaluated at 400 euros (which was already more than one would have generally thought of paying).  We got a little carried away, pooled our resources, and thought maybe about pushing it to 550 euros. 

Alas, the stylized, silvered bronze horse (which measured 13 inches high) sold for almost 4,500 dollars, plus another thousand in auction fees!  Needless to say, not to us! 

The last we'll ever see of our little horse!



Your input is welcomed:  hotel-musings@hotmail.fr

[Photos are mine, unless otherwise credited]


CROSS REFERENCING … a look at other postings
The Plaza Athenee was also featured in blog No. 33, "Breakfasts in the 1970's," and No. 44, "The Best and the Worst," and No. 45, "End of the Season Au Revoir"  (to access, click on above titles).



Thursday, November 28, 2013

49 - Thanksgiving: Ruth and Dickie... and more about Mother



THE MILLENNIUM BILTMORE, Los Angeles

Ruth, circa 1932


    The longer I live away from the States, the less resonance I feel with Thanksgiving.  It is such a particularly American holiday, with all of its food and family implications, that when you are out of the context as I have been, living abroad these past 45 years, it is easy to get out of the habit, if not entirely out of the spirit.

Still, I do retain an early lifetime of memories associated with Thanksgiving family meals.   My Aunt Ruth could often be counted on to join us for the holiday spread, particularly after her own children had left home.   I remember how supportive she was of Dickie when he started shining as a cook.

Chef Dickie, starting out at a hash house
  Mother had a real knack for baking cakes, but for much of the rest, she was just so-so.   We liked her food just fine, that is after all what comfort food is all about; but when Dickie came along, that was something else!   

By the time Dickie reached twelve, he was already showing signs of a special talent.  Mother welcomed his enthusiastic participation in the preparation of holiday meals, to the point of gradually pretty well turning the kitchen over to him.  She sometimes had difficulty, however, in totally conceding the credit.

Ruth, Mother’s aunt, had reared her during most of her high school years and afterwards.  She was only ten years older, and although somewhere between sister and mother for her, was still a respected figure of authority.   A career school teacher and known as a stern disciplinarian, she was for years tagged by students as "The Blade."  To describe her as outspoken would be an understatement; she had exceedingly strong viewpoints on most matters.

Mother and her aunt Ruth(r) in the late 1930's
To my brothers and me, Ruth was another grandmother and a special Auntie Mame.  We welcomed her non-conformist ways, compared with the more traditional Pleasants side of the family.  I spent many weekends with her in Southern Pines, and opening tins of pork and beans at any hour of the day or eating breakfast in mid-afternoon was then a special treat.


She knew Mother better than most, and she wasn’t apt to let her get away with too much.  I remember one Thanksgiving when Dickie was just coming into his own, and he outdid himself with a feast of traditional plates to which he added his personal touch to make each dish special –sweet potato “soufflé” (at least that is what we called it in Aberdeen), asparagus casserole, creamed carrots, wonderful coconut cake (though in that department, Mother’s was just as good), and of course the pièce de résistance, butterball turkey with good old Southern-style sage and cornbread stuffing.  

Ruth with the ubiquitous Camel cigarette
 Mother was in a bad humor that year, I certainly don’t remember why, and Ruth’s repeated compliments to Dickie were not easing the atmosphere. 

“This is absolutely the best Thanksgiving turkey I have EVER tasted,” said Ruth to Dickie.  “Where in the WORLD did you learn to cook like that?  Why, you could open your own restaurant.” 


Dickie about that time ...
Mother tried to intercept in order to minimize.  In her very Southern manner, she said:  “Yes, he has certainly been a big little helper.” 


I remember Ruth’s reply, because she had this larger-than-life way of punctuating her ideas, of which I have a clear mental video, even today.   

She could be very argumentative, and had a tendency to take over conversations and get really passionate about whatever she was talking about, frequently jabbing her cigarette in the direction of her interlocutor for emphasis.  She was a perpetual crusader against whatever she saw as injustice, and on this Thanksgiving she definitely saw that my brother was not getting his rightful share of the credit: 
Mother a few years later

“Help?  What ARE you talking about?  Did you say Help?  Why, it looks to me like Dickie has done every single thing!"  I can still hear her throaty, gravelly cigarette voice.  "Every single, solitary thing, and it is DE-LI-CIOUS!  All I can say is, bravo, Dickie!”  

Mother would rarely declare defeat, but with Ruth, she sometimes realized that to declench further argument would be counterproductive, and I recall her ultimately shaking her head in resignation, in much the way today one might say, “Whatever!” 

Ruth with Mickie (left) and Dickie, Aberdeen 1957



The Biltmore Hotel ... back to Hollywood's Golden Age

1937 Academy Awards ceremony in the Biltmore's Crystal Ballroom 

     Brenda and I found ourselves in Los Angeles a few years ago on Thanksgiving.  We were taking a boat from San Diego which took us around part of Mexico and Guatemala, through the Panama Canal, a bit of Colombia, and on to the East Coast.

We spent a couple of days beforehand at the old Biltmore (now The Millennium Biltmore) in downtown L.A.   No longer quite the exquisite hotel of the stars it may have once been, it has nevertheless been remarkably well kept up, and in recent years increasingly dusted off and uplifted.  


Our spacious room at the Millenium Biltmore, November 2010

The largest hotel west of Chicago when it opened in 1923, there are still an awful lot of rooms to fill; and that means some tempting prices, particularly at off-season moments.

Contrary to what some might think, Thanksgiving and Christmas can be very off-seasonal.  In America there are probably no days in the year when more people go back home, wherever that might be, and that leaves plenty of hotel rooms vacant.

A typically art-déco nook in the Biltmore's bar
  So the Millennium Biltmore had too good a price to pass up, and we decided to stay there before embarking on the Holland America cruise.  Also, they advertised an enticing Thanksgiving meal which was billed as “the famous L.A. bountiful buffet brunch not to be missed!”     

For an old time movie buff like myself, the primary appeal of the Biltmore was its historic connection with the Academy Awards.  It was here in the hotel’s Crystal Ballroom that some of the iconic moments of the the Oscar’s history occurred in the late 1930’s and 1940’s.

The banquet hall where the event took place is still there, intact and in excellent condition.  It wasn’t open for visiting the week we were there (as it was being prepared for some event, probably a wedding reception), but we sneaked in without difficulty.

The Film Academy was in fact founded in 1927 at a luncheon in the Biltmore’s ballroom.  All the heads of studio were represented, and it is said that MGM art director Cedric Gibbons scribbled his design for the Oscar statuette on a linen hotel napkin.

The ornate ballroom is constructed a little like an opera house, with grand, carved columns and Austrian-crystal chandeliers.  The second-story balconies which surround the circular room offer the best viewing point, and the room still boasts a hand-painted 30-foot ceiling. 

As for the Thanksgiving feast, this was our only disappointment.  The food was about as uninspired as you could ever imagine, though the restaurant was packed with enthusiastic looking diners, both tourists and Angelinos.   We didn’t really care; there would be other, better Thanksgiving meals.  

Who knows?  Maybe even one of these days another prepared by Dickie.

Quite a bit of its past grandeur still on show (note ceiling)



Your input is welcomed:  frank.pleasants@libertysurf.fr

[Photos are mine, unless otherwise credited]


CROSS REFERENCING … a look at other postings
"Mother" is also featured in blog No. 46, "Grandmother Vivian, Doc and the Others" and No. 51, "A Christmas Gift ... the little red lamp"; Aunt Ruth was mentioned in the sidebar to blog No. 4, "Miss VFW 1951 at the Stork Club"   (to access, click on highlighted titles).



Friday, November 15, 2013

48 - Back to Venice and The Gritti!


THE GRITTI PALACE, Venice 

A super-luxurious room 210 of the Punta della Dogana suite with its original 16th Century floor and ceiling
 
     After all these years, I wasn’t sure I’d ever see Venice or The Gritti again.

Closed since 2011, this grandest of all Venetian hotels (though the word "hotel" is no longer officially used, it is just “Gritti Palace”) reopened last February after a 35-million dollar facelift.

The result is nothing short of stupendous, as the 16th century home of the 77th Venetian Doge, Andrea Gritti, has been meticulously renovated and revived.  The aim was never to change, but to restore and preserve.

“It was an investment that the Gritti deserved!” said Managing Director Paolo Lorenzoni in a recent chat in the hotel’s elegant Longhi Bar.

 
Il Diretorre Lorenzoni
  Lorenzoni directed the renovations, and he takes understandable pride in his “new” finely polished jewel on the Grand Canal.

“I sometimes think of us like a Patek Philippe watch.   It is a jewel of distinction which is often handed down through the generations.   We have returning clients who are the children and now the grandchildren of our loyal guests who began when we first opened in 1948.”

Most suites are named after former guests, such as Peggy Guggenheim who celebrated her 80th birthday at the Gritti and whose museum lies across the Grand Canal in front of her suite.  The Hemingway Suite is a homage to the celebrated writer who spent several months here between 1948 and 1953.  In fact, he wrote much of “Across the River and Into the Woods” while at the Gritti, and he mentions the hotel at least 15 times in his novel.   Not to forget the Somerset Maugham Suite, named after the British novelist who would set up residence, for several weeks most years, between 1948 and 1976. 

It had been well over ten years since I was last in Venice, and when the opportunity arose to take a look at the restored Gritti, we decided to replicate, as much as feasible, my early trips to Italy in the 1970’s.

The old, comfortable night trains are increasingly a thing of the past, but an Italian company has recently begun a service of sleeping cars on the Paris-Venice run, and we decided to give it a try.   In addition to giving you time to enjoy the landscape, it allows for a full day in Venice upon arrival and another before departing.

Early morning, first glimpse of Venice from our train compartment

And nothing beats the traditional early morning arrival by train into Venice.   A few minutes before reaching our destination, the train is suddenly surrounded by water, the Venice Lagoon, as we make our way into the City of Doges on a kind of causeway to the Santa Lucia Station which sits smack in front of the Grand Canal.


 
Knock-out view from our balcony
  Our stay at the Gritti was like a dream.  Though apparently fully booked, the personnel always gave the impression of offering  exclusive attention to each guest.  And what a wonderful surprise:  Thanks to the kind help of Sr. Lorenzoni, we had the great fortune of finding ourselves in the prized Punta della Dogana suite.

Nowhere is service more refined, more attentive, more personalized than in the Venetian hotel world, of which The Gritti Palace surely reigns supreme.

“At the Gritti you are not a guest, you are a friend,” Somerset Maugham once said.

“We try to treat the Gritti like a private home, not a hotel,” said Lorenzoni.   “Many of our guests feel the same way.”

Speaking for myself, I couldn’t agree more. 


 

SIDEBAR:  The People who make it work

A glimpse into the Club del Doge Restaurant with a few chandelier
baubles of Murano crystal in the foreground

No matter how beautiful or how comfortable a hotel may be, it is inevitably the personnel who make or break its reputation.

Italy is universally known for its impeccable training throughout the service industry, and the Gritti's staff is a fine example.  I think I can safely say that the team there today is the best I have ever encountered.

 The « performance » of a hotel's personnel is much like the ensemble playing in a chamber orchestra, one false note can ruin the whole.   Fortunately there were no false notes discernible.

Romina
  Starting with our reception by Romina, who checked us in with such a personable welcome, by the time she had introduced us to our rooms, we felt like old friends.   It seemed that everyone we encountered, like Romina, had a true passion for what they were doing.  You quickly get the feeling that the staff is fiercely proud of this unique palace and of their part in its running.

Valentina
A prime example was Valentina, who began her career as assistant at the switchboard last February when the Gritti reopened.  This has been her first job after receiving  a Milan University degree in modern languages (she speaks beautiful English and French, and though I am in no position to judge, also masters Russian). 

  Like many employees over the years who have started in modest posts, Valentina would like to branch out one of these days, hopefully using her people skills in management.


Then there was Antonella (above), who efficiently and with a real panache coordinated our breakfast on the del Doge terrace, filled to capacity the day we were there –taking orders, laughing and conversing with guests, while simultaneously dispatching waiters and monitoring orders with the kitchen.

   The most special hotel profession of all is bound to be that of concierge.   He is the member of staff who undoubtedly has the most interaction, can make things happen or not, and ultimately can be responsible for the overall success or failure of a guest's holiday.  

Umberto, 25 years later
I was delighted to reacquaint myself with Umberto, the « Good Samaritan » of 25 years ago of whom I spoke in musing No. 17 (click here to see).   When I first met him in the 1980's, he had taken my luggage and shown me to my room.  He is now first assistant to the head concierge. 

Giuliano has been working at the Gritti for over 40 years, and has in recent years attained the important post of head concierge.  We chatted several times, and like Umberto, he gave all appearances of still enjoying his job tremendously.  Despite what he described as the « dangerously high stress level » which goes with the territory. 

Giuliano, 40 years on the job, now head concierge

I was flattered when he took me into an ante room off the concierge's counter (for me, like going backstage at a Broadway hit !), where he pointed out, not without emotion, framed photos of some of his former colleagues on the concierge team who have died.   I was particularly saddened to learn of the recent death of Franco, who had been head concierge on my first visit to the Gritti in 1980.
 
 As Managing Director Lorenzoni says, "It is the client who is the most important.   But very close after comes our employees, they are after all what creates the personality and assures the efficiency of our palace.   We respect our employees, and it shows." 


The Concierge Station


 



 A FEW SNAPSHOTS:  Three memorable days at the Gritti


Feeling almost "at home" in our exceedingly grand living room, with priceless corner view on the Grand Canal, it is surprising how quickly you can get accustomed to such luxury!  

 
The bedroom was not bad either!

 
It is often the details that count, as attests this perfectly presented orchid on the side of our marble bathtub.



A first peek of the Gritti upon entering from the street, with view onto the concierges' counter (above).  Below, two snapshots of the newly refurbished public lounge areas.



 

 



The Longhi Bar, aptly named after the 18th century Venetian master whose paintings adorn its walls

Last but not least, the unforgettable view from the terrace of the Longhi Bar at twilight


Your input is welcomed:  hotel-musings@hotmail.fr

[Photos are mine, unless otherwise credited]


CROSS REFERENCING … a look at other postings
The Gritti Palace was also featured in blog No. 10 "Danny, the Night Porter", No. 23 "Mrs. X at The Gritti", No. 31 "Fire, Water and a Bloody Fall" No. 17 "Celebrating the Holidays Away From Home" and "Looking Back To Venice ... and Paul Newman"  (to access, click on title).