Monthly Archives: July 2024

Miss Abbott’s Albums

Summers have been about old Salem photographs for the past several years. I go up to the Phillips Library to research something, order up a few old photograph albums to give myself a break, and then just dive in to another world, another Salem. Last year I really had to restrict myself as I was still wrting chapters for our forthcoming book Salem’s Centuries; this year the book is essentially done so I’m just looking for a few images to illustrate it, or so I tell myself. Really, I just like to look at old photographs. Last week I looked through the three albums of Miss Lilly S. Abbott, a librarian at the Salem Public Library, who began her tenure in 1925 and rose through the positions of assistant, children’s librarian, reference librarian, acting director and assistant director over her 47 years at the library. She was obviously a committed collector and curator of photographs, choosing very important images for her albums, and labeling them on the front or back. She supplied photographs to the Salem Evening News, and also to the Salem Cultural Council’s exhibition of “Salem Streets and People” in 1971. Some of her photos I had seen before, but many were new to me. I sharpened up a few photographs below, but most of her photos were very clear and had been processed from lantern slides very effectively. Unlike a lot of Salem photographers and photography collectors, she was obviously more focused on Salem streets and people than on structures: most of her album photos feature downtown, and she obviously loved the Willows too.

Here are some of my favorites: first, a group of photos of downtown Salem—some are dated, most are not, but I think they’re from about 1900-1920, beginning with this great photo of Ash Street in 1900. Urban Renewal wiped Ash Street out, and now it only has one house!

Ash Street, Crombie Street, Essex Street, Norman Street, North Street and Bridge, Washington Street.

Here’s a few of Derby Street, including the Philadelphia wharf—-I was very excited to see this as it was built by the man who lived in my house. Plus, David Little on his “Little Steamer,” Salem’s first automobile! (Miss Abbott seems to have been very interested in transportation).

On to the Willows: including interior and exterior shots of the famous Brown’s Flying Horses carousel, in situ in Salem until 1945.

Some odds and ends: the only photos of famed Chestnut Street in Miss Abbott’s albums are very different: a car driving west, which to us will look like the wrong way, as it is one-way the other way now, and the day after the fire that destroyed Samuel McIntire’s Second Church in 1903. I’ve never seen this. Then there’s the Tontine building on Warren Street, destroyed by the Great Salem Fire in 1914, and a great photo of the Gedney House on High Street before its acquisition and restoration by Historic New England. Finally, Old Home Week, always a BIG celebration in Salem, in 1909. I’m grateful to Miss Abbott for preserving these wonderful images of Salem streets and people.

Town House Square, 1909.

Lily S. Abbott Photographic Albums (PHA 113). Couresy of Miss Abbott and the Phillips Library of the Peabody Essex Museum, Rowley, Massachusetts. Miss Abbott donated the albums to the Essex Institute in Salem in 1981 in memory of her brother, William.


The Troublesome Girls

A few weeks ago, a social media post popped up on my feeds from Destination Salem, our city’s official tourism office, featuring two young women dressed in garish costumes with giggly grins. They were/are wannabe “girl historians” (actually not historians at all) visiting Salem to promote their current podcast series, a comedy on the Salem Witch Trials. I was taken aback; you see and hear all sorts of exploitative expressions about 1692 in Salem, but seldom from “official” parties, which tend to walk a finer line. I reposted, along with a statement about how absolutely funny the witch trials were, and the next day the post disappeared. I had captured a screen shot, however, and here it is.

I was kind of angry when I captured the screen shot, but over the following week I just forgot about it. I really didn’t want to invest much time into something that seemed kind of silly. I tried to listen to the “girls,” but all I can say is: there are many great history podcasts, a lot of great podcasts by real historians who happen to be women, and several great podcasts on the Salem witch trials, and their podcast falls into none of those categories. But it’s not about them, really; it’s about Salem, because Destination Salem represents the City, and by extension, its residents. The photograph above kept dwelling in the back of my mind (rent-free!) and after a while I realized that it was conjuring up memories of another photograph, or series of photographs. There was a huge spread in Life magazine in September of 1949 on Marian Starkey’s groundbreaking new book, The Devil in Massachusetts: a Modern Enquiry into the Salem Witch Trials, which featured very evocative photographs of Salem sites and the “Salem girls” by photographer Nina Leen. Now these photos were dress-up promotion, just like the photo of the “girl historians” above, but what a difference! The subtlety and poignancy and starkness represent respect of a tragedy, rather than the craven commercialization of a “comedy”. The promotion of an insignificant podcast seems so small, pathetic actually, when compared with a multi-page spread in a national periodical, so much so that the event itself seems reduced in significance. Funny how that happened.

Nina Leen photographs, Life Magazine, September 1949.


Salem Garden Stroll 2024

So sorry I’ve been MIA for the last couple of weeks; this summer is turning out to be one of the busiest I’ve had in years! Everything snuck up on me: I’ve been teaching a summer grad class, working at the Phillips House, preparing a robust schedule of presentations, researching Salem’s “revolutionary summer” AND Renaissance saffron, and prepping my garden for the Salem Garden Club’s biennial “Stroll,” which happened just this past weekend. I thought this was going to be a calm, “off” summer as I am not working on a book, but that has not been the case. I think I’m all caught up and in control now, but we shall see. I have some interesting topics that I want to explore here over the next few weeks, but this week I am featuring the Garden Stroll, which was one of the best garden tours I’ve seen in years. The Salem Garden Club has a venerable history dating back to 1928 and they have made numerous contributions to Salem’s horticultural history, among them the publication of the most wonderful little pamphlet, Old Salem Gardens, which (I swear) is seldom out of my sight at home. If you encounter a copy online or in person, snatch it up: believe me, you won’t be disappointed. The club always features a Christmas market during Historic Salem’s Christmas in Salem house tour, and they contribute to the city’s beautification initiatives as well. Years ago, when my house was on the Christmas in Salem tour, I was fortunate to have the Club as designated decorators and I remember fondly coming downstairs the morning of the tour to see ladies artfully arranging their creations, as well as ironing my tablecloths! It was nice to hear them setting up for the stroll this past weekend as well, as their headquarters were right next door at Hamilton Hall. I think we were all a bit anxious as it was raining Saturday morning (and very humid later on), but from my perspective, everything went off very well.

Salem Garden Club present and past.

The gardens were all located within the McIntire Historic District, Salem’s oldest, on Federal and Chestnut Streets and off streets of the latter. The range was incredible in terms of size and style, but all featured great structure, and very interesting plants! I have LUNGWORT ENVY, as pulmonaria are my favorite plants and my feeble varieties paled in comparison to two much more robust examples I spotted on Chestnut and Hamilton streets (usually they are better; they really let me down this year—must check my soil). There was great architecture, and all sorts of special little details: I was immediately reminded of a quote by Mary Harrod Northend about Salem’s urban gardens, “where every inch of space has been made to serve a decorative purpose.” (The Mentor, 1914).

Gardens on Federal and Hamilton Streets and an additional lovely lungwort on Chestnut.

The neighborhood insitutions were featured too, including the Peabody Essex Museum’s famous Ropes Garden (with PEM head gardener Robin Pydynkowski on-site to answer questions), the Pickering House (also with present gardeners), and the Salem Athenaeum, and lemonade was served at the Phillips House. The great thing about urban gardens like those of Salem is you can generally check out lots of backyards once you get “out back” so a tour such as this is a treat for both architectural and horticultural buffs (plus outbuildings!) I was just thrilled to see the garden of the house built for Hugh Wilson, the Scottish gardener of the adjacent Hoffman garden on Chestnut Street, which was truly famous in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. It was so unexpectedly large, I think because it was the site of one of the Hoffman greenhouses. (But I also developed pond envy). Just a great Salem day!

PEM Gardener Robyn Pydynkowski in the spotlight at the Ropes Mansion; Hamilton and Chestnut Street Gardens.

And at the end of the day it was nice to come back to our garden, now free of people and with Trinity liberated (Tuck was still cowering inside) to have a g&t. Cheers to the Salem Garden Club!


DeCordova Day

Last week I had a terrible night full of no sleep and the worst thoughts—it was the debate, my garden, my book, everything and nothing catastrophic, just made so in the dead of night. The next morning I had my coffee and drove to the DeCordova Sculpture Park and Museum in Lincoln, the leafiest of Boston’s leafy suburbs. Modern sculpture doesn’t usually speak to me, but on this occasion and in this setting, it did. I calmed way down, was capable of enjoying the low 80s, sunny and no- humidity weather, and forgot my concerns for a good part of the day. I didn’t spend the whole day there (my title is an alliterative exaggeration) but a solid morning, during which I walked around the 30+ acres with a skip in my step which I managed to maintain for the rest of the day–no exaggeration. So here are some of my highlights, starting with an off-kilter person and house, because that’s how I felt when I arrived.

Joseph Wheelwright. Listening Stone; Hugh Hayden, A Huff and a Puff (inspired by Thoreau’s cabin, not too far away!)

The DeCordova Sculpture Park and Museum was established on the former estate of local businessman Julian de Cordova on the southern shore of Flint’s Pond in Lincoln in 1950 and purchased by the Trustees of Reservations in 2019. There are some 60 sculptures outside and the castle-like main building is currently closed for HVAC repairs. The last time I visited was in the fall, and the sculptures were stunning against the foliage, but this was a glorious day too. It’s an engaging way to view art as you can approach the installations from any angle—Hugh Hayden’s cottage above is a perfect example above as is Alyson Shotz’s Temporal Shift below (which has the additional quality of being “site-responsive”): what do you want to frame and how do you want to frame?

Alyson Shotz, Temporal Shift; Lars-Erik Fisk, Decordova Ball; Reno Pisano, Torso; Christopher Frost,  A Mile from Any Neighbor from Walden; Rona Pondick, Otter (my photo is not really enabling you to see the otter qualities of this stainless steel sculpture!); Kitty Wales, Feral Goose; Robert Schelling, Time at the Museum; George Greenamyer, Mass Art Vehicle; John Buck, Dreamworld; Jim Dine, Two Big Hearts.

I walked right by—more subtle sculptures!

Andy Goldsworthy, Watershed;Richard Rosenblum, Venusvine; Robert Lobe, Environmental Impact Statement (from afar I thought it was just a big boulder but it is made of hammered aluminum).

Transparent sculptures: the most site-responsive!

Saul Melman, Best Of All Possible Worlds; Dan Graham, Crazy Spheroid—Two Entrances (which I loved because it made me look tall!)