On The (Cold) Trail Of A Woman Artist At The Scarab Club
If you are familiar with the Scarab Club, you will know why the trail was so cold. The Scarab Club did not admit women as members until 1962, and my mystery woman was gone long before then. Clueless suburbanite/intrepid explorer that I am, I have never been to the Scarab Club before today. The list of things I have never seen in my home city grows infinitesimally shorter.
In 1928, the members built their own building, full of arts & crafts era...well...art and craftsmanship. I climb the stairs to enter the storied second floor room where artists like Diego Rivera have an eighty-three year tradition of autographing its wooden beams. The old wood glows with late autumn sun through the leaded glass windows. The furniture, some of it original, has been arranged based on old photos.
Above the fireplace is Paul Honore's 1928 mural, The Scarab Family Tree.
Almost all the interior doors have small leaded glass insets that signify the room's intent. I will regretfully refrain from another men's club comment here. You will have to think up your own bad joke.
Back on the first floor, past the main gallery, beyond a sweep of leaded glass french doors, a courtyard garden awaits...
Women artists are, of course, currently welcome at the Scarab Club. They were well-represented in the two photography exhibitions on view till November 21st. Entranced by the building and its ghosts, I had to shake myself back to the present to take in the new works.
The Scarab Club has a great website here. It hosts a wide range of events - drawing classes, music recitals, lectures, writing workshops, photography exhibitions, and so forth. The galleries are open to the public Wednesday through Sunday from 12-5. On a quiet Saturday afternoon, I had that amazing second floor room to myself. It was easy to imagine that I had slipped through a window in time. It's also easy to imagine it full of life and light and crowds for upcoming events like Noel Night, Midtown's annual holiday celebration.
You know that new Detroit Shoppe* at Somerset? Come here instead. Sure, we suburban Detroiters mostly go to the Venetian instead of Venice.... the Bellagio instead of Lake Como.... it's cheaper, closer, and we speak the language. But if you had the choice, wouldn't you rather have the real thing? Eight Mile is not an international border.
*If you're at Somerset anyway, and you're not coming downtown, by all means support the Detroit Shoppe. The proceeds go to some very deserving non-profits and arts organizations.
My Uncle William Girardin has a drawing at the Scarab Club. My mom said it is a line drawing, sounded abstract.
ReplyDeleteI'm on a quest to find a picture of the home my second great grandparents lived in. 724 Jefferson Ave., Detroit. It was a large home. It shows in the Detroit directory as Mrs. Emily Girardin and listed our her children, Ernest Girardin (my great grandfather), Elizabeth, Louis, and Miss Marie Girardin. My 2nd great grandfather was no longer alive at this time. I have never seen a photo of Emily yet my mother was told that The Burton Historical Library had a portrait of her and her diary in French. I've been there twice to inquire about it and they never can find it. She descends from the Campau line. Her mother was Sophia Dubois (nee Campau) who was the daughter of Jacques Campau and Suzanne (Cuillerier dite Beaubien). I keep hoping one day I'll find something on her. I do know that she remarried Rufus Schermerhorn around 1890 and lived in a 42 room octagon house in Rochester, MI for five years. The home was called Wood Dawn. Rufus was quite the businessman. I can't find a picture of him either. I love your blog. Letta Crapo Smith is my tenth cousin. I'm also an artist. Also my great grandfather, Ernest Girardin, operated the boiler house on Belle Isle. At one time Belle Isle was owned by a Campau. I believe Barnabus.