The House In My Head

I was fascinated with Architecture since I could hold a pencil, so the only logical subject for a book report in the 5th grade would have to be about houses. Modern houses. As my fingers walked through the card catalogue of my school's library, the selection on the subject of Architecture was almost non-existent and not very encouraging. Until I read the card with the title The House In My Head. Locating the large book on its shelf wasn't difficult-- it's almost coffee table size. Drawing the book near I was immediately entranced by the cover photo. The view at dusk of the most beautiful home I had ever seen, from across the swimming pool. Floor-to-ceiling glass doors hid little from view. The interior was expertly decorated with lots of reds-- in the upholstery, carpets, etc. with the walls a cool white, perfectly framing the entire setting. Important art on the walls-- little sculpture-- French antiques eclectically co-mingled with new modern pieces here and there. This house was a gallery as well with every decor element thoughtfully and perfectly selected and placed on the stage that was this most stunning home.

As I devoured every word, every stunning Ezra Stoller photo, it became apparent to me that Dorothy Rodgers was many things. Obviously a person of means she was also a person of tremendous taste, organization and standards. Mrs. Rodgers shared the very personal-- for her-- reasons for arriving at the conclusion to leave her cherished home of many years. Rockmeadow had become a charming but needy and temperamental old friend. An estate that was impossible to run without a substantial staff-- a luxury that was becoming increasingly difficult even for the very rich to recruit and retain in the 1960's. Guest quarters were on the third floor-- luggage had to be trudged up several flights of stairs for every overnight visitor. The vast gravel drive required regular raking. The rambling colonial home lacked many modern comforts such as central air conditioning. The opening chapter takes the reader through the intimate, difficult decision process that lead Mrs. Rogers to the bitter-sweet conclusion. Although she would fulfill a lifelong dream of designing and building her own home, it would not be accomplished without sacrificing their dear old family friend, Rockmeadow. Dorothy described the catastrophe, or the straw that broke the camel's back as the dour possibility of not having a couple on the premises for the summer. To those of us who do our own laundry, make our own beds and skim our own swimming pools, this seems like the fear of a thoroughly spoiled individual. She undoubtedly and unabashedly was-- but to Dorothy Rodgers this was tantamount to hauling your laundry to a river and beating it against rocks or lugging barrels of water from a well a few miles back to your house. I must confess to you at this time I had no earthly idea exactly who Mrs. Rodgers or her husband "Dick" were. I was delighted to learn within the first few words of the book that this elegant and sprawling contemporary home wasn't in far-a-way California, but in my own backyard of Fairfield County, Connecticut. However, exactly who the Rodgers' were wasn't of any immediate importance or of any particular interest to me-- but every brushed chrome door knob, every built-in warming tray, every pebble dredged from an Asian river, absolutely everything else was.

After touring countless parcels of property-- ruling out one for its too-steep driveway approach-- many others were eschewed until the ten or so acres of high meadow in the exclusive Greenfield Hill section of Fairfield, Connecticut was selected as the ideal building site for Mrs. Rodgers future perfect home. The new home was to be a weekend and summer place, like all the Rodgers' Connecticut homes had been since the 1930's or 40's. A home for escaping their elegant New York City apartment, a home for their family and I believe most importantly, a home for entertaining the legions of their sophisticated, entertainment industry friends. In case you haven't already figured out what still hadn't dawned on my ten year old mind-- until my mother told me-- the Rodgers were in fact, Mr. and Mrs. Richard Rodgers, as in OKLAHOMA!, Carousel, The King and I, etc., etc. I've since referred to this house as the house The Sound of Music built. Notes detailing decades of ideas were shared in the book. Dorothy-- as I respectfully refer to her-- didn't leave a process out of the equation of design. Maybe an ice maker in the living room, if it doesn't clunk too loudly. A place for card table rounds for dinner parties. Why have a separate library? A wall of books in the living room could suffice. Perhaps a little house at the edge of the croquette lawn for storing equipment. These are not direct quotes but merely remembrances of a book read many, many times. Other ideas to implement included a fabulous pantry with a double-sided serving buffet that could be closed off from view while help set out food, then opened for service. Then closed off again while silent servants whisked away-- out-of-sight--the dirty dishes, platters & tureens to the various dishwashers in the pantry & kitchen. Built-in warming trays to keep all hot dishes the perfect temperature for the perfect buffet service. A greenhouse for cutting flowers in the winter. A place to let fresh cut things "harden". Some sort of beautiful stones to place along the perimeter of the foundation where nothing ever wanted to grow. Perhaps a dishwasher in the pantry as well as the main kitchen? This women was light years ahead of her time. I'm sure if she were still alive she would have definitely participated in the interior decoration education of the masses-- perhaps with her own HGTV program.

To describe the house is a bit of a challenge, however I'll give it my best. Sprawling at over 10,000 square feet on a single level, the appearance was that of an H-shaped layout with a pool in the rear between the bedroom wing and service area of the house. Flat-roofed except for many Mansard-style, slate roof projections which correlated to the size of each room for which it was a "hat". Carefully scaled, by the way, to the point that large pieces of plywood were held up during construction for Mrs. Rodgers and her architect to judge the appropriate ceiling height for each room. The look has been described as Contemporary Regency style, which is certainly accurate-- one might throw in Regency/International. The largest room(s) in the house where the Living Room/Dining Room/Library which also had a screened dining "porch" and defined library area flanking the "thrust" part of the living room. The plan brilliantly utilizes space and the overall effort is one of the first and best examples of multi-use areas in residential architecture. Sunny with an abundance of glass walls and skylights, the Living Room-- although of cavernous proportions-- was warm and intimate. A fireplace surrounded by raised panels that hid a television that could be pulled out and swiveled on its turntable. A carefully planned service wing with state-of-the-art kitchen was restaurant-size for its time, although now probably average compared to today's McMansions. Thermador warming drawers could keep an entire dinner for several guests the perfect temperature until a late train arrived from New York. Servants quarters were accessed through this part of the house as was the greenhouse. The basement is home to New York skyscraper or battleship size mechanical systems. Plumbed with large cast iron pipes painted color-coded so that their functions were instantly apparent to whomever may be servicing an emergency day or night. Schematics were framed behind glass for an electrician's future benefit should he need them. Gauges labeled with engraved plates that noted "Mrs. Rodgers' Bedroom" and "Mr. Rodgers' Bedroom" adorned the equipment. Multiple diesel stand-by generators were always at the ready in case Connecticut Light and Power failed to provide the necessary electricity for even a moment. Station wagon size air conditioning units were unobtrusively placed away from the house behind a rustic stockade fence. The year this building was built-- 1965-- was decades before the small central units were invented that are common now. These "behind-the-scenes" details were not shared in Mrs. Rodgers' book-- visits by me to the house post-Rodgers ownership were like religious pilgrimages that enlightened me to the areas of the house never mentioned or photographed.

To say that I was obsessed with this house & book would be an understatement. I decided the ideal punctuation for my book report would be to have a direct quote from its author. How to obtain her phone number? Place one of the photos in the book with a shot of a phone under a microscope, of course. Although the entire phone number is not legible, fear not-- Richard Rodgers telephone number was not unpublished, but appeared in the local phone book along with everyone else. After several attempts to reach Mrs. Rodgers were unsuccessful, her friendly husband (to whom I had spoken every time) told me to call back on Friday when she would certainly be back "from town". Finally that fateful Friday evening, a maid summoned the elusive Mrs. Dorothy Rodgers to the phone. I identified myself as a 5th grade student who had just completed reading her beautiful book about her beautiful house and was readying to write a thorough book report. After a very brief pause, Mrs. Rodgers told me that everything she had to say about the house was in the book. She then asked scornfully, "How did you call our phone number?" I explained my slightly unorthodox method and, perhaps concerned about a 10 year old stalker, she told me not to call again. Not until my mother received that month's phone bill was I informed who the Rodgers' were. The people I phoned a few towns away via Southern New England Telephone local long distance was the great American composer of many wonderful musicals very familiar to me-- Richard and his wife Dorothy. Since I spoke to Mr. Rodgers several times I comforted myself with the notion that although Mrs. Rodgers was not at all pleased with one of her youngest fans, her husband couldn't have been more pleasant and accommodating. I'm grateful for his patience and kindness. Although it was Dorothy's astute attention to design detail that made this house the showplace it was, it was Mr. Rodgers' financial contribution that made the house possible at all. It was The House In Her Head, but also the house The Sound of Music built.