May 8, 2013

Fabulous Filoli, Part I

Down a long, meandering lane in Woodside, California, a magnificent country estate sits quietly amidst a forest of oak trees, like a lovely grande dame with many stories to tell.  

The name itself has a story, deriving from the credo of Mr. William Bowers Bourn, the original owner: Fight for a just cause; Love your fellow man; Live a good life. I applaud Mr. Bourn for coming up with such an original and lilting name. If you think it's easy to name an estate, just give it a try.

 


I visit Filoli at least once a year, because it has a similar effect on me as imbibing a bottle of Dom Perignon (minus the hangover). The house is serenely beautiful, the gardens otherworldly. It casts a spell, Filoli does, starting with the magnificent reflecting pool that greets you as you pass through the unassuming garden door that gives little hint of the delights within.


 
I have seen many beautiful estates and gardens in my time, but there's something about Filoli that transcends mere loveliness. The horizontal sweep of hills in the background, the  vertical cypresses, the masses of flower beds, the specimen trees -- everywhere you look there is a painting with perfect composition.






The flower beds are re-planted every season, so you never know what you're going to find. In the fall, this might be bursting with asters and dahlias. 







Bruce Porter, who helped Mr. and Mrs. Bourn plan the layout of these gardens, was a talented painter, sculptor, muralist, landscape designer, and art critic. I have no doubt he could "see" what these stately cypresses would look like against a spring sky, almost 100 years after being planted. 




Putting in a garden that will look this good a century later is a feat beyond imagining to me. But then, that's why I'm writing this blog and not designing estate gardens.





Of course, Filoli has a conservatory, a separate outbuilding constructed of the same red brick as the main house.



If I told you this was published last month in Architectural Digest, you wouldn't bat an eye, right? To me, that is the essence of timeless design. 

The floors are marble, the sconces gilded wood, circa 1917. 




Scattered about the property are charming nooks, with inviting places to sit and contemplate one man's vision of Eden on earth.





An intricate knot garden at the "back" of the estate.




 
 When I bring guests here, they expect to spend a couple of hours touring the house and gardens. We usually end up staying all day. Because it's just so hard to say good-bye.




 Not long after Filoli was built, William Bourn had two severe strokes, the second of which was paralyzing, and he spent the rest of his life in a wheelchair. Being a proud man, he saw to it that the gardeners stayed out of his sight when he was wheeled through the gardens. For his pleasure, a series of nature trails were developed to the south of the property, and they still exist today.

On November 24, 1933, the Bourns hosted a "Drunks Dinner" to celebrate the repeal of the 18th Amendment and the end of Prohibition. They were too ill to attend, but they listened to the revelry from their bedroom upstairs. Can you imagine? Move over, Jay Gatsby.




 Next: Filoli indoors. I wasn't supposed to take pictures, but I did. Naughty me!





 
© 2013 by A Silken Swoon. All rights reserved. All photos by Eileen of A Silken Swoon.

1 comment:

  1. You certainly captured this lovely spot. I hope you get there next year in the late Summer to see the fully grown knot garden and the zinnias and, yes, dahlias! Beautiful story.

    ReplyDelete