I have always loved the architect Charles Rennie Mackintosh – he was a Glaswegian and one of the great influencers of Art Nouveau in the UK. His wife Margaret Macdonald was equally or more talented than her husband but of course, being a man, he was the more famous. (I must admit to feeling guilty that I like his work better than hers – not a very good sister-supporter). I even have some reproductions of their art back home in Milton.
So I always drag friends and guests to the Kelvingrove Museum to see some of his furniture (just re-read that last sentence – I’m making it sound like some of my guests aren’t friends – not the case at all, it just seemed to scan better). Well, this past July, my company was someone who appreciates the Mackintoshes as much as I do, and we made a true Rennie Mackintosh week of her holiday. As well as Kelvingrove, we went to the Hunterian to see more of their work (well, actually, we got lost and went to the wrong annex of the Hunterian – it was also very interesting so we ended up staying there and foregoing the Mackintosh building). But the next day we went to a ‘house’ in Pollokshields Park; the House for An Art Lover was built only 25 years ago using blueprints that the Mackintoshes had entered into an international competition in 1901. It was amazing – all the accurate style and detail of 125 year old designs, but able to be used, and touched, and sat upon.
Then as if that wasn’t enough, later that week we headed north to Loch Lomond, Gare Loch, and Hill House, a home built for a businessman and his family entirely to the Mackintoshes’ specifications, in 1902. Everything: the walls, the ceilings, the furniture, the lighting, the decor – Mackintosh had complete freedom. Imagine living in a house where every seat, every piece of panelling, every doorframe is a unique work of art. As I already have Rennie Mackintosh tea towels, prints, postcards, and wall hangings, I refrained from buying anything more at the shop, but it wasn’t easy. The drive home along Loch Lomond to Balmaha (gotta love the town names), and through the Trossachs, was spectacular.
The last week of July was saturated with Mackintosh, and I loved every minute of it.