Local Artists Reflect on the Florence Griswold Lawn, Site of New Artist Trail in Old Lyme

OLD LYME — For artists and art lovers, the lawn, the gardens, the light, and the views at the Florence Griswold Museum are iconic, hallowed by the footsteps and brushstrokes of the Old Lyme art colony and the many painters who have followed and continue to flock to the site.  On Monday, the museum will reveal a new vision for the 12-acre property, including a new artists’ trail, that will be dedicated to Robert F. Schumann, a trustee and patron of the museum for nearly two decades. The Robert F. Schumann Foundation awarded the museum a $1 million grant in

More

Sonny the Police Dog Changes Attitudes in Clinton

CLINTON — Police Officer Jason Frey was driving on Horse Hill Road when he got an email that would change the course of his career. “I was literally passing the 95 exit and had to pull over to read it,” Frey said. The email announced that Clinton was adding a K-9 unit to the police force, and they were looking for applicants. It was an opportunity Frey thought he’d never have. “When I interviewed at Clinton I was specifically told that if I’m coming here thinking I’ll be a K-9 unit then to look elsewhere, that’s not what Clinton has

More

Off to New York and the 2019 Whitney Biennial

NEW YORK — The Whitney Museum of American Art’s Biennial is about the “now” of art and reflects the new in architecture through its Renzo Piano structure and the ever-changing nature of New York City. But it’s also a reminder of the “then,” the many artists and biennials that came before, the museum’s previous home in the Marcel Breuer building on the Upper East Side, and the move to Gansevoort Street in the meatpacking district of lower Manhattan.  As a contemporary art lover, and sometimes hater, I consider the Biennial a rite of passage every two years, taking me forward

More

Refreshment and Respite at Caffé Marche in Old Saybrook

/

OLD SAYBROOK — A little farther down Main Street, away from the town’s shopping hubbub, is an Italian cafe where one can find refreshment and respite, including homemade gelato and sorbet, pastries baked in-house, coffee, marble-topped tables, an outdoor seating area and wifi. Housed in the historic James Pharmacy at 323 Main St., Caffé Marche (pronounced “Márk-eh”) is named for the region of Italy located east of Tuscany along the Adriatic Sea, where co-owner Paul Angelini is from. “The whole philosophy here is to bring in someone as if they were going to go to the market region of Italy,”

More

A Catalan Spritz

//

Two parts dry sparkling wine, one part red vermouth, served on ice, with an orange slice and green olive – when prepared with good quality Spanish or Italian vermouth is our best answer for what you should be drinking in place of the dodgy stuff calling itself rosé.

More

Whale Bone Cove: VI

I had no idea what was involved in all of it, planting it, caring for it, even just keeping it alive. I knew deer ate yew bushes, cedar trees, prickly holly and, in rough winters, even really prickly roses, but it never occurred to me that they ate tulips or lilacs or the buds off the hundreds of day lilies I would plant along the road, just as they were about to flower.

More

Wedding Season in Southeast Connecticut

June is not the time to try and write a story about weddings. Venues are frantic, photographers barely eat, hairdressers are on the move, bakers are chained to their ovens -- it’s the middle of wedding season and wedding vendors have been preparing each event for almost two years. So, who was I to get some of their time with just a day’s notice?

More

Whale Bone Cove: Part V

I suppose I had wanted a garden for some time. But gardening wasn't a childhood obsession like my yearning for a house. I mean, there is an old black and white photograph of me, age six, planting pansies in our garden with my mother. I love the look and especially the smells of gardens. But it wasn’t until I put in my first garden, in the Peace Corps, in Tanzania in the late 1960s, that I developed any real for passion for gardening itself.

More

Whale Bone Cove: Part IV

I had always wanted a house of my own. The grandchild of an architect -- dead long before I was born -- I had always thought I wanted to be an architect as well. All the time I drew houses. Houses down the road. Houses my parents' friends lived in. Houses I saw in books or traveling. Houses I made up. Many were houses I thought I wanted to own. They became, for a time anyway, my house, the house I would live in… until I saw something I liked better.

More

Twenty Years a Dancer, Byrne Releases an Album

After more than 20 years as a dancer, Clare Byrne is making the leap into music. Her first full album – Celestials – will be released on Saturday, June 15 just nine years after she first picked up a guitar. “It felt like an awkward coming out when I would tell other dancers I think I want to be a musician,” Byrne said.

More

Middle Haddam Picnic Honors WWII Vets

Charles Alex, age 99, of New Britain, who was the oldest veteran at the picnic, served in World War II, the Korean War and the Vietnam War. At the end of 1940, he joined the Army as an infantryman in the 43rd division, serving in the Pacific in New Guinea and the Philippines for three years. In 1944 and 1945, he served in Germany and France.

More

Whale Bone Cove III

In what looked to have been the smaller front parlor, the fireplace had been bricked up, a toilet put in where the hearth had been, and a bathtub installed against the end wall. But we found it charming, or I did certainly with its old windows and mantels, splendid random-width oak floorboards. I even thought the old gnarly radiators were charming.

More

“A Big Vegetable Weekend”

“This weekend is traditionally when people come to get all their vegetable plants because they have time off on Monday and it’s past the full moon so it’s past the last frost date, so this is when everybody comes for vegetables,” said Diane Ballek. “So, we’ve filled the whole area with vegetables.”

More

Whalebone Cove – Part II

At the bottom of the hill we turned onto Ferry Road, and then as we came around a corner and over a rise, Whalebone Cove opened out in front of us. Mostly it was frozen, but there were still open channels crowded with busy, flapping ducks, numbers of geese landing, seagulls and a pair of swans, heads held high, gliding among them.

More

Whale Bone Cove: Complete

Our friend George Trescher, long dead now (this is thirty years ago) had lost the house he rented in Quogue on Long Island, and we were losing ours in Bridgehampton, and like him we had not been able to find a house we wanted on the East End that we could possibly afford to buy or rent. One night at dinner, during a slightly martini-induced bout of moaning about our situation, I heard myself saying—meaning nothing by it—that “the Connecticut River Valley is very beautiful.” “The Connecticut River,” said George. “I’d forgotten about that.”  And with his usual due diligence,

More

James Beard Nominee “Extraordinarily Gifted”

The first bite tastes like a blooming flower, and April mornings when every breath is heavy with the scent of new blossoms. If you would ask me for other words, descriptions, flavors, I have nothing. How else to explain the delicate layering of flavors and textures?

More

Whalebone Cove

“Go away. You're early,” said George. “Go have a look around and come back around sunset.” He shut the door. Not a very auspicious beginning, I thought. But I said to Christian, “let me at least show you where we are,” and we headed back the way we'd come, and onto the road that leads up the east side of the river.

More
1 6 7 8