By LIZ GRANGER
The darkness struck me first. The curator opened the entrance doors, and we stood in the middle of a gleaming marble foyer. The blinds in flanking rooms were drawn to protect the fabrics and art. Handmade Edison bulbs kept the lighting, though electric, low. A flame trembled in the fireplace, but it was only an orange cloth whipping in a hidden fan. I needed a few minutes to realize that the fire wasn't real.
I should say that the Driehaus Museum is romantic. Originally known as the Nickerson Mansion, its builder spared no expense. The house cost $450,000 to build between 1879 and 1883—a time when the average American family made $380 a year. Nickerson used 17 different types of marble and had doorways carved from single pieces of wood. Marquettry, waynescotting, frieze, candelabra: The mansion is full of words most people don't use anymore.
Richard Driehaus is a Chicago philanthropist and investor who rescued the mansion from disrepair. He calls the building 'a splendid survivor among the hulking high-rises of River North.' His office—Driehaus Capital Management LLC—is located across the street from the museum. Driehaus' office is another restored building in a neighborhood of modernism, a stone edifice complete with a fenced courtyard that houses manicured gardens, a vintage limousine and a fountain of spitting lions.
Driehaus says that 'classicism has a mysterious power,' and puts his name on many historic preservation projects throughout Chicago. He visited the Nickerson Mansion with a friend when it was an art gallery. Driehaus wanted to buy a bust of Abraham Lincoln, but his friend told him 'forget the bust, buy the house.'
Samuel Nickerson built the mansion. He came from Chatham, Mass., and made his fortune in wholesale alcohol, buying a distillery when he moved to Chicago in 1858. Nickerson profited from providing liquor and ordnance for the Union Army during the Civil War. After the war, he retired from the liquor industry and went into banking and railways. He lived in the mansion until 1900, and then sold it. The building was put up for sale again in 1916, and remained on the market for three years. One hundred prominent Chicagoans eventually bought the house and donated it to the American College of Surgeons, who occupied the building until 2003, when they sold it to Driehaus for restoration.
Driehaus' refurbishment took five years, and set a record: The house was the first building in the world to be cleaned by laser. The laser technique is common with sculptures, but is extremely labor-intensive. The Nickerson mansion is made of porous stone that turned black from coal fires and factories within 10 years after completion of the house. Restorers feared that the stone might be damaged if cleaned with liquids, and were not willing to take the risk. They coated the windows with ultraviolet film, replaced tattered cloth with period-appropriate fabrics, commissioned carvings for wood that had disappeared and installed gallery lighting in the least obtrusive way possible. The result is a dramatic structure that lives up to its old nickname: 'The Marble Palace.' Promotional materials dub the building 'the grandest residence ever built in Chicago.'
David Bagnall, the musuem's curator—who is young, well-educated and Welsh ( complete with the accent ) —took me on a private tour. The museum is set to open in the fall and is available for limited previews this summer. If you're lucky, Bagnall will be your guide.
Pausing during the tour to lower the lights and wind a clock, Bagnall explained the history of the mansion and significance of the things inside.
'We're not telling the story of the Nickersons in this house,' Bagnall said. 'When they lived here, every horizontal surface was covered with vases and such. We think the house speaks for itself without the walls and surfaces hidden, so we're creating a period environment instead of emulating their lifestyle.'
Walls on the first and second floors are covered in traditional finishes and papers, but third-floor rooms have been upholstered in monochromatic cloth. This is to hang photos as the museum fills with more artifacts.
The currently displayed photos capture the phases of the Nickerson Mansion. Although Nickerson was something of a sophisticate, the home's second owner did not boast the same refinement. Lucius George Fisher, who owned the house from 1900 to 1916, enjoyed game hunting. He covered the walls in animal heads and floors with skins. A photo taken during the Fisher era shows a walrus head and bearskin rugs.
Today, although the Driehaus Museum will serve as a venue for its namesake's art collection ( which includes one of the largest collections of Tiffany works in the world ) , it also harbors some of the quirkiness installed by its original owners. For example, the Nickersons were 'quite concerned with security,' as Bagnall put it. Every lock in the house is numbered, and there is a corresponding key for each lock. I saw plates numbering up to 418. Imagine the size of that key ring.
The Nickerson Museum is a gift, a refuge of classicism that has survived some challenging years.
'Although this building is a landmark, only the exterior is protected,' Bagnall said. 'Had developers bought this building, they could have torn out the interiors and turned the place into luxury apartments.'
Stepping into the opulent building restored to its former glory is unlike taking an elevator to the top of the Sears Tower or boating along the Chicago River. The Driehaus Museum represents a rare niche in Chicago, and comes highly recommended.
The Driehaus Museum is located at 40 E. Erie. Summer preview tours are available on Tuesdays and Wednesdays between 11 a.m. and 1 p.m. Call 312-932-8665, visit www.DriehausMuseum.org or e-mail info@driehausmuseum.org for more details.
