Owner likes orange house but neighbors see red
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
8:53 a.m. Sunday, June 20, 2010
It happened without warning, residents of the historic and tony Peachtree Heights West neighborhood say. They woke up one day and there it was, the old Henry B. Tompkins House looking like a University of Florida Gators football helmet.
Built in 1922, the stucco home is listed on the National Register of Historic Places as "one of the most complete remaining examples of a Reid villa," referring to famed Atlanta neoclassical architect Neel Reid. And, for 88 years, the Buckhead house was the picture of refinement with its grayish exterior. Then just like that, it was bright orange with a blue door, shining like a beacon among its sedate neighbors.
Last weekend, Wright Mitchell, who lives across the street and happens to be president of the Buckhead Heritage Society, ambled across West Wesley Road and knocked on the door.
T. Ruben Jones, the 80-year-old new owner, greeted his guest.
"He asked, 'Why'd you paint it that color?' " recalled Jones, who, by the way, had no intention of paying homage to the Florida Gators. "I said, 'Because I like it.'"
Jones smiled, thinking of the encounter.
"I knew it would shock some people," he said. The grumbling of neighbors "doesn't bother me. I understand because it is different. Through life, you'll always have raised eyebrows."
There are plenty of those.
Robert Hays, the chairman of the high-powered King and Spalding law firm, lives directly across the street, as does Archbishop Wilton Gregory. "A lot of people are upset over it," Hays said.
"The neighborhood is in an uproar because it destroys the historic character of the whole block," said Mitchell, himself a lawyer.
"This raises an interesting question that a lot of communities struggle with — where do you draw the lines between private property and the good of the neighborhood?"
Do owners of historic homes "have a duty to the community to maintain them in a fashion that is not offensive to the community?"
Those questions split the community five years ago when neighbors debated creating a historic district. At the time, the economy roared, and people were bulldozing older homes to erect 7,500-square-foot behemoths.
"We were trying to keep houses from being torn down and then something not being built to scale," said Joel Hughey, the civic association president then.
The debate was "intense," he recalled. Residents voted 117-116 against seeking the special designation.
"There's a number of successful, opinionated people in the neighborhood," Hughey said. "The opponents owned some of the most beautiful homes. But there was a hesitance to give up autonomy. It goes back to the Southern agrarian roots of 'Don't tread on me.' "
But even if the measure had passed, he said, "It wouldn't have regulated paint colors on the grounds that you can't legislate good taste."
One could argue Ruben Jones has impeccable taste. Once the owner of a high-end Buckhead antiques shop, he has spent the past year virtually rebuilding the home, which had fallen into disrepair.
Interior walls have been painted with rich colors. Floor-to-ceiling pine bookshelves once coated with pink and green paint have been restored to their original wood finish. The rooms are adorned with 200-year-old Federal Period furniture and oil paintings. The decorating is all him, no outside designers.
The Paulding County native, whose family amassed huge tracts of timberland, sold 6,865 acres of forest land in 2007 to the state, county and other entities for a reported $45.8 million.
The home is, by Jones' reckoning, the sixth he has owned in Atlanta, and he figures it will be his last residence. Most of the houses have been historic or unique.
One, at 390 W. Paces Ferry, was across from the Governor's Mansion. He sold it about 15 years ago. Why? "I just like change," he said with a shrug.
Still, there was always something about the Tompkins House, which was listed at nearly $2 million. "I've known the house since I was in high school and always wanted it," he said, hobbling around on replacement knees.
Jones knew Jimmy Means, the architect who started with Neel Reid and once told Jones he had, as a young apprentice, helped draw up the doorway and garden of the Tompkins House. Jones also knew Philip Shutze, a Reid associate who designed many of Atlanta's notable homes. "I'm an architectural nut," he said.
Jones said the exterior color — "maple leaf" by Behr, to be precise — is meant to replicate the hue of an Italian villa. It will fade, he assured.
William R. Mitchell Jr., the founder of the Southern Architecture Foundation and author of a book on Reid, said that early in the last century architects and their rich Atlanta clients "wanted their houses to look like European villas" — but old ones. Stucco was given an appearance of being faded from the start. Colors were muted.
Several years ago, Mitchell said, he advised developers turning the Reid-designed Villa Apartments into condos not to paint the exterior, which was similar to the Tompkins home.
"The issue of how to paint or finish older houses is a big issue," Mitchell said. "In my mind, it might not be a good idea to paint" the Tompkins' exterior.
Boyd Coons, executive director of the Atlanta Preservation Center, called the Tompkins House "one of the greatest houses in the city. It's like a perfect blue-white diamond."
Coons lauded Jones' efforts, "He's doing the city a great service." In the state it was in, the house could have been demolished.
What about the paint job? "It's reversible," he said.
When asked about the neighborhood dissatisfaction, Edward Daugherty, a prominent landscape architect who has lived across the street for 35 years, said he wouldn't have picked the color, but "it's none of anyone's business."
Told of this, Jones grinned. "I'm thinking much the same thing. I just didn't want to say it."
--------------------
The legacy of Neel Reid
Neel Reid (1885-1926) is one of Atlanta's most celebrated architects, a student of classicism and the Italian Renaissance.
During a 17-year period ending with his death from a brain tumor, Reid — who grew up in Macon — designed dozens of stately homes in Buckhead, Ansley Park and Druid Hills. He also designed the Scottish Rite Hospital for Crippled Children in Decatur, the railroad station (now Amtrak) on Peachtree Road and the Haas-Powell building in the Fairlie Poplar District downtown.
William R. Mitchell Jr., author of a book on Reid, said the architect's influence can be seen in many of the important Atlanta structures of the first half of the 20th century in the city.
"Practically every outstanding architect in Atlanta from 1910 to 1926 wanted to be mentored by Neel Reid," he said.
It happened without warning, residents of the historic and tony Peachtree Heights West neighborhood say. They woke up one day and there it was, the old Henry B. Tompkins House looking like a University of Florida Gators football helmet.
Built in 1922, the stucco home is listed on the National Register of Historic Places as "one of the most complete remaining examples of a Reid villa," referring to famed Atlanta neoclassical architect Neel Reid. And, for 88 years, the Buckhead house was the picture of refinement with its grayish exterior. Then just like that, it was bright orange with a blue door, shining like a beacon among its sedate neighbors.
Last weekend, Wright Mitchell, who lives across the street and happens to be president of the Buckhead Heritage Society, ambled across West Wesley Road and knocked on the door.
T. Ruben Jones, the 80-year-old new owner, greeted his guest.
"He asked, 'Why'd you paint it that color?' " recalled Jones, who, by the way, had no intention of paying homage to the Florida Gators. "I said, 'Because I like it.'"
Jones smiled, thinking of the encounter.
"I knew it would shock some people," he said. The grumbling of neighbors "doesn't bother me. I understand because it is different. Through life, you'll always have raised eyebrows."
There are plenty of those.
Robert Hays, the chairman of the high-powered King and Spalding law firm, lives directly across the street, as does Archbishop Wilton Gregory. "A lot of people are upset over it," Hays said.
"The neighborhood is in an uproar because it destroys the historic character of the whole block," said Mitchell, himself a lawyer.
"This raises an interesting question that a lot of communities struggle with — where do you draw the lines between private property and the good of the neighborhood?"
Do owners of historic homes "have a duty to the community to maintain them in a fashion that is not offensive to the community?"
Those questions split the community five years ago when neighbors debated creating a historic district. At the time, the economy roared, and people were bulldozing older homes to erect 7,500-square-foot behemoths.
"We were trying to keep houses from being torn down and then something not being built to scale," said Joel Hughey, the civic association president then.
The debate was "intense," he recalled. Residents voted 117-116 against seeking the special designation.
"There's a number of successful, opinionated people in the neighborhood," Hughey said. "The opponents owned some of the most beautiful homes. But there was a hesitance to give up autonomy. It goes back to the Southern agrarian roots of 'Don't tread on me.' "
But even if the measure had passed, he said, "It wouldn't have regulated paint colors on the grounds that you can't legislate good taste."
One could argue Ruben Jones has impeccable taste. Once the owner of a high-end Buckhead antiques shop, he has spent the past year virtually rebuilding the home, which had fallen into disrepair.
Interior walls have been painted with rich colors. Floor-to-ceiling pine bookshelves once coated with pink and green paint have been restored to their original wood finish. The rooms are adorned with 200-year-old Federal Period furniture and oil paintings. The decorating is all him, no outside designers.
The Paulding County native, whose family amassed huge tracts of timberland, sold 6,865 acres of forest land in 2007 to the state, county and other entities for a reported $45.8 million.
The home is, by Jones' reckoning, the sixth he has owned in Atlanta, and he figures it will be his last residence. Most of the houses have been historic or unique.
One, at 390 W. Paces Ferry, was across from the Governor's Mansion. He sold it about 15 years ago. Why? "I just like change," he said with a shrug.
Still, there was always something about the Tompkins House, which was listed at nearly $2 million. "I've known the house since I was in high school and always wanted it," he said, hobbling around on replacement knees.
Jones knew Jimmy Means, the architect who started with Neel Reid and once told Jones he had, as a young apprentice, helped draw up the doorway and garden of the Tompkins House. Jones also knew Philip Shutze, a Reid associate who designed many of Atlanta's notable homes. "I'm an architectural nut," he said.
Jones said the exterior color — "maple leaf" by Behr, to be precise — is meant to replicate the hue of an Italian villa. It will fade, he assured.
William R. Mitchell Jr., the founder of the Southern Architecture Foundation and author of a book on Reid, said that early in the last century architects and their rich Atlanta clients "wanted their houses to look like European villas" — but old ones. Stucco was given an appearance of being faded from the start. Colors were muted.
Several years ago, Mitchell said, he advised developers turning the Reid-designed Villa Apartments into condos not to paint the exterior, which was similar to the Tompkins home.
"The issue of how to paint or finish older houses is a big issue," Mitchell said. "In my mind, it might not be a good idea to paint" the Tompkins' exterior.
Boyd Coons, executive director of the Atlanta Preservation Center, called the Tompkins House "one of the greatest houses in the city. It's like a perfect blue-white diamond."
Coons lauded Jones' efforts, "He's doing the city a great service." In the state it was in, the house could have been demolished.
What about the paint job? "It's reversible," he said.
When asked about the neighborhood dissatisfaction, Edward Daugherty, a prominent landscape architect who has lived across the street for 35 years, said he wouldn't have picked the color, but "it's none of anyone's business."
Told of this, Jones grinned. "I'm thinking much the same thing. I just didn't want to say it."
--------------------
The legacy of Neel Reid
Neel Reid (1885-1926) is one of Atlanta's most celebrated architects, a student of classicism and the Italian Renaissance.
During a 17-year period ending with his death from a brain tumor, Reid — who grew up in Macon — designed dozens of stately homes in Buckhead, Ansley Park and Druid Hills. He also designed the Scottish Rite Hospital for Crippled Children in Decatur, the railroad station (now Amtrak) on Peachtree Road and the Haas-Powell building in the Fairlie Poplar District downtown.
William R. Mitchell Jr., author of a book on Reid, said the architect's influence can be seen in many of the important Atlanta structures of the first half of the 20th century in the city.
"Practically every outstanding architect in Atlanta from 1910 to 1926 wanted to be mentored by Neel Reid," he said.
No comments:
Post a Comment