Resorts at Sea: Malolo | Queen Frederica

Several of the ships in Resorts at Sea ended their days under foreign ownership. Among the first vessels examined, Matson’s Malolo, built in 1927, lasted until the late 1970s. Most of that time was spent under the moniker Queen Frederica for National Hellenic Lines, and later for Chandris.

As cruise ships today seem to have theme room after theme room, before the mid to late 1930s, American ships had a similar pattern: Georgian lounge, Tudor library; a hodgepodge of dated styles designed to keep the traveler’s mind off the sea outside. Post World War II, a unified “modern” look took hold, with each seafaring nation putting their own stamp on things via artworks and furnishings. Currently, I’m of the opinion that American ships embraced the sea and a seafaring heritage more than other nations.

(One of the better quotes I’ve found addressing this switch includes the phrase “decorative claptrap.” And you can find the source yourself; I’m not going to give it all away.)

I have two Queen Frederica brochures. Neither are dated. (Dang it.) The smaller one, page wise, on the left, is probably after 1955, but before a 1960 refit; the latter, and larger of the two, is after the refit.

When Malolo was originally built, stained woodwork, and lots of it, was the rule. Oddly, given the California to Hawaii route, and later South Pacific cruises, dark wood wasn’t given a second thought. Dark tones absorb heat, and this was before the days of air-conditioning. Whatever the ventilation, it must have been stifling, and the dark, oppressive woodwork would not have helped. A refit that raised the lifeboats up a deck and added several Lanai suites also resulted in a name change, to Matsonia. The original interior décor was not altered. Here’s a shot of the smoking room …

After the war, under foreign ownership, Matsonia’s woodwork was painted. Ordinarily, I would disapprove. White was the predominant color, but depending upon the room, gold, grey, or green was used as an accent. Coupled with colorful art and modern furniture, it works. Case in point …

This shot of the foyer between the lounge and Crystal Club is from the older brochure. Get a load of that mural! (Unfortunately, no idea who did it.) Note the grey columns, cross beams, and selected panels, as well as the slate blue baseboard. Not a fan of the pink and green floor, but that’s why they make rugs.

The first class dining room underwent a change, too. Odds are the décor on the upper level are mere stencils, but they do add to the overall scheme of things. (Not that I’m part of the “something is better than nothing” crowd, but if a space needs to be broken up, there are worse ways to go about it.) Note the two fans towards the back of the image, a holdover from the Matson days? The flooring may well be Malolo original, too, from the Pennsylvania Flooring and Woodoleum Manufacturing Company of Philadelphia.

One more room caught my eye, the children’s playroom. I do believe there are some well-known Disney characters on the left. One couldn’t get away with that today without paying hefty licensing fees.

Overall, these looks are a prototype for what is considered today’s luxe design. Take a look at any high-end magazine, like Architectural Digest, for land-based versions, or sticking to the seas: Oceania Cruises and Crystal Cruises, to name two.

Something to ponder ... A bit outside the realm of possibility, but had it been feasible, do you think a non-British operator, doing a France/Norway-type conversion, would've painted over Queen Mary's opulent veneers, culled from over 50 types of trees from all corners of the globe?

Perlin Exhibit: creating an invitation

As Bernard Perlin: An Artist Goes to War draws ever closer, the deadlines to get stuff to the printers are starting to nip at my heels.

When my cousin got married last year, I noticed the invitation, and it was oversize, which costs more to mail. We don't want to blow a ton of money on postage for opening reception invites. Yes, people will receive e-invites, but a real invitation will also go out. It's something tangible.

So, playing around with designs and sizes, I really wanted to keep it so it would fit in a standard #10 envelope. Below is the front, and it measures 4" x 9".

Regular readers may notice that I've changed the logo font. I found a copy of the booklet for Perlin's first one-man show at Knoedler's in NYC in 1948. This narrow Bodoni font spelling out his name pays homage to that. When I sent Perlin a draft of the exhibit poster last year, he chuckled, "I love seeing my name in big, bold print." I think he'd be please with this.

The images are the different stages of the war. At the far left, his time in the Office of War Information, then there's Winston Churchill in Cairo, going on a raid with the Greek Sacred Squadron, preparations for the air war on Japan, and finally the surrender on the USS Missouri.

This will open up to 8" x 9" with the left half describing the exhibit for those who don't know, and the right half will spell out opening reception details. I'm still tweaking the text, and that's why you're not it seeing now.

Resorts at Sea: Delta Line

I thought I had every significant piece of Delta Line ephemera. Folded sheet of deck plans? Check. Profusely illustrated color brochure? Check. Profusely illustrated black and white brochure? Check. But there’s another! A random search online turned up one I had completely forgotten about. Images from it were used in the 2010 book Ship Style, which, by the way, is well worth one’s time.

The Del Norte, Del Sud, and Del Mar were the first American passenger liners built after World War II, sailing from New Orleans to South America, and they’re often overlooked. (To some, if it doesn’t happen on the North Atlantic, it doesn’t exist. You know who you are.) These sleek passenger-cargo liners were designed by the firm George G. Sharp. In a call to them a few months ago, I learned they had tossed all records pertaining to their passenger ship design division. News like that makes me even more determined to see this project through. But with twists like Sharp’s, it’s just going to take a bit longer.

These ships, just under 500 feet long, registered at 10,000 gross tons, carried 120 passengers, and, as a unique departure from the norm, had twin uptakes, which predated Holland-America’s iconic Rotterdam by a decade. The rooms were spacious, light, and airy; belying the smallness of the vessels. In the mid-1950’s, Delta Line’s advertising began calling the experience of taking the trip to South America a “resort at sea.”

Though the illustrations in this case are renderings, they are faithful to the interiors, as they’ve been described. Sculptor Raoul Josset created coats of arms representing the four nations that had control over New Orleans to go in the dining room. You can see a couple of them here on the left.

Artist Pierre Bourdelle did the spandrels for the hall (main lounge). For Del Norte, scenes of New Orleans history were depicted. The medium was carved linoleum, following his use of it for America in 1940. He also used it in President Cleveland and President Wilson in 1947 and 1948. I’m not sure if he repeated this motif for Del Sud and Del Mar. The finding aid for his papers is vague, with no mention of these ships, or the two Presidents, so only a visit to those materials will clear things up. But I like to think he would do something different for each ship in this trio.

I’ve just begun a conversation with JoAnne Heaney. She started working for George G. Sharp in 1943, under the supervision of future husband, Jack. She had a hand in these Delta liners, President Cleveland and President Wilson, and nuclear ship Savannah.

Another one bites the dust ...

No, it's not a still shot from the next Transformers movie.

It's not been a good few weeks for historic sites in Anamosa. First the old middle school, and now this house just two doors down from me. It's been the subject of much discussion. Some say it's an original structure from the 1840s. I respectfully disagree, as Iowa was pretty much wilderness back then, or at least this part of it, and I doubt a structure like this was being built. (But I'm happy to be proven wrong.)

As much as I'm into historic preservation, in order any structure to be saved, the bones must be good. In this case, these bones had a severe case of osteoporosis.

The equipment was parked on the lawn the day before, and they got to it bright and early the next day. (I overslept a little.) By the time I cleaned up and got down there, about a third of it was already gone. Quick work was made of old house. The rock and plaque, as you see was daintily moved out of the way, noting the historic sight of the Gideon Ford House where Indian maiden Anamosa visited in 1842 will be cleaned up and reset after the new house is completed later this summer.

I really tried to get as many shots of these "jaws" looming in from outside of the frame. (Yeah, I've a dark sense of humor. Whaddya gonna do?) Enjoy the pics!

Beautiful Ruins

Well! This snuck up on me! A couple weeks ago, I wrote about an area middle school being torn down, but it had been going very slowly. Late last week, I was walking home, and I heard the sickening crunch of wood. No! I don't have my camera! I ran up the hill, and they had just started. I quickly beat it back home, had lunch, and waited for the rain that had stated just as I got home to let up some. After about half an hour, I was on the site. Two thirds of the building was gone! Fortunately, between this post and the last one on this topic, I grabbed some establishing shots, showing the school as a whole. But for now, here are some artsy shots of the various stages of ruin.

The one on the left is the only one I enhanced a little, due to the crappy, overcast day. Everything else

turned out pretty good. I chose black & white to class things up a bit.

 

 

 



I think the one on the left is my favorite. It really looks like a battle scene.

(Not that that's a good thing, but if I was going for eerie, this one succeeds.)

 

Subconcious Spring

When I created these posters, I probably was trying to force the spring season upon us. All through March, if it wasn't snowing, it was bitter cold. If we had a couple decent days of spring-like temperatures, BAM! We'd get wind chills in the single digits for a week.

So I picked these wonderful images, vibrant, with green tones, in hopes that it would get Mother Nature off her duff and get spring in gear. It seems to be working ... For now.

Text placement is not normally where I would have it; I let the image dictate where things would go. It helps one think outside the box a little. Top left corner?! Egad, man! You're talking crazy!

Destruction

An old middle school is being torn down. It's a shame, really, as these types of buildings have the best "bones." They've stood for over a hundred years for a reason. But a new middle school has been built, so what to do, what to do? Time to tear it down.

This is where the gymnasium addition was connected.

It was demolished a few weeks back.

I like the jagged edge of where the gym was connected leading out to the nothingness.

A few more variations of that "nothingness" angle. The tree line adds a nice texture.

 

I'll be taking more pics as demolition continues. And, quite frankly, the gates are not securely locked, so I suppose one could roam all over if they had a mind too.