Stonewood Design for The Story of Emily / The Newt in Somerset
Privately-funded museum documenting the life and work of Emily Hobhouse, who campaigned against the use of concentration camps in the Boer War. Together with the Victorian rectory, where Emily lived as a child, the new museum is the twin focus of an estate restored and reinvented by the South African investor Koos Bekker.
This is really a collection of gems. To the established ones – a fourteenth century church and a rectory newly furnished, to the last authentic detail, in High Victorian style – the architects have added a zinc-clad exhibition space and a series of ancillary buildings faced in handcrafted Cornish stone. The cumulative effect in this evocative landscape is one of deep harmony. Everything bears scrutiny, in fact looks even better on close inspection. To achieve that is expensive, and indeed money has been splashed. But that is no guarantee of tasteful results. Far more important is that every penny has been well-spent, delivering a series of exquisitely-crafted buildings that easily avoid the trap of mere showiness. Sometimes there is even a hint of austerity, as in the windowless exhibition hall, its only opening a slice in the zinc as if a can has been peeled open. It is all beautifully controlled.
Which is not to say there are no exuberant touches, even extravagant ones. The structural glass wall in the restaurant, a single pane measuring sixty-five feet by ten, is astonishing for its sheer chutzpah but also for the technical skill involved. This is the largest piece of glass in the world, overtaking the pane in the lobby of the Taikang Financial Tower in Peking. Merely transporting it from Germany, where it was made, was a feat. The result is an unobstructed view of the reborn walled garden. The edges between inside and outside are blurred and the gardens, seen on a typically misty, dripping Cornish day, become as much dreamscape as landscape.
It is not just the big things here that are beautiful. Attention to detail is also evident in the scalloped oak joinery in the shop, the South African yellowwood in the restaurant, the greenhouses and stone outbuildings; in the smallest spaces, such as the loos, that are easily abandoned to mediocrity; and in the absence of collateral junk, such as bossy signage and the messy impedimenta of the health and safety industry, that so often kills illusion. It is all lightly but purposefully curated from the moment of arrival, and one leaves enriched by a powerful sensory experience.