By Arrol Gellnor
reprinted from Custom Publications
Not
long ago, I visited William Randolph Hearst’s renowned estate near
San Simeon, California, now a state park better known as Hearst Castle.
With its serene mountaintop setting, verdant gardens and spectacular
view of the Pacific Ocean, the palatial retreat designed by Julia Morgan
between 1917 and 1941 was soon nicknamed "The Enchanted Hill."
And indeed, soaking up its breathtaking gardens on a crystalline
morning is about, as close to paradise as most I of us will ever get.
Our guide touched on this fact when
she ended the tour by sighing: "Well, it's time for us to go back down the hill to
reality." This poignant comment got me to thinking. Is it only
Hearst Castle's extravagance that makes it such a remarkable place?
Or is there
something more something that any one of us, whether millionaire or
middlebrow, could bring to our own environment?
Most of us seem to have accepted
that beautiful surroundings are the exclusive domain of the wealthy.
Granted, money is a prerequisite
to many things in this world, but creating and appreciating beauty
are not among them — if they were, all artists would be fabulously
wealthy. Rather, beautiful surroundings are something that any one of
us — rich or poor— can aspire to.
We
may not be able to create them on the scale that Hearst and Morgan
did, but we can do so on the scale of our own homes, and that is enough.
In
fact, what makes Hearst Castle so unforgettable is not merely its
lavish design or the drama of its site. Rather, it's the degree of
thought and
care that both Morgan and Hearst invested in every aspect of the
work. A diminutive fountain, a beautiful motif in colored tile, a carefully
sited orange tree—it's the sum of these modest details, and
not just the grand gestures, that make the Enchanted Hill sing.
What’s more, such details,
and a thousand others, are within reach of just about anyone who
cares to have them. They hinge
upon careful thought and a desire for beauty more than they, do on
money.
If
you're not convinced, consider that the same people who marvel at
what Morgan and Hearst created at San Simeon also feel pangs of longing
for
quaint French villages or Italian hill towns—places that are
hardly the product of great monetary wealth.
Human contentment, it seems, has less to do with extravagance
than with the simple degree of comfort and care we invest in our own
surroundings: In its own context, a bright pot of flowers on a windowsill
can have just as much impact on the spirit as the most scrupulously tended
formal garden.
Whether castle or cottage, beautiful homes all share the
same basic, traits. Some of them we must furnish: materials, however
modest, assembled with care; patterns to delight the eye; textures to
delight the touch. Others are there for the taking: fall colors, the
trickle of rainwater, the song of a bird, the fragrance of a climbing
vine.
Taken together, these are aspects of beauty that all of
us can afford, and, that we all deserve to have around us.