May I introduce you to Samuel Hill, “Visionary. Entrepreneur. World traveler. Road and monument builder. Philanthropist. Friend to royalty.”
And “the principal founder of the Maryhill Museum”. [Maryhill Museum of Art by Linda Brady Tesner]
Samuel was really quite huge…a larger than life person. He was someone you would probably be drawn to in conversation or presence, a contender for that charismatic space in a room. He designed Maryhill as a place that would be a Quaker agricultural community, a home for his wife and eventually the family, a daughter and a son. This became a lost dream in some ways. His wife would never join him in the West. Their lives were essentially estranged. And the Quaker community never came to fruition.
Living in Portland is synonymous with bicycles and green energy. What I find so intriguing is that Samuel Hill was really a grass roots person. He would have fit into this city/town very well at that particular time. From Tesner’s guide, she describes Hill as “a proponent of a cause that would remain a passionate avocation throughout his lifetime: the Good Roads Movement.” This was originally initiated by a group of bicyclists, The League of American Wheelmen, but this quickly grew as a movement to develop roads for commerce, self defense, and tourism. Knowing present-day Portland as I do, this might certainly be where Hill would have parted company from the grass roots contenders of today. But that is now, and we are going back in time.
So what was it exactly that captured my imagination while I was there on this perfect Tuesday along the Gorge with no wind, blue sky, and sunshine? Here I was in the middle of nowhere, literally, in a world class museum surrounded by brilliance, fine art, royalty, French culture, astounding beauty, and flamboyant peacocks wandering around in the gardens. I had to pinch myself to think it could have been this good, but it was!
And so why would this place stand as a jewel along the Columbia Gorge? It was graced by royalty, Queen Marie of Roumania, entranced by Loie Fuller, famous for modern dance, and Alma Spreckels, the wife of sugar magnate Adolf Spreckels. So here we are with three unusual artistic women supporting and adding delight and wonderment to a place without a place, so to speak. As Gertrude Stein would have said about Oakland, California, “There is no there…there”. But these three women, along with Samuel Hill, put Maryhill Museum on the map as a place that seemed to be “there”.








It does seem magical. It seems like you imagined the whole thing. Were there any other people there? Did you wander around calling out “Hellooooo?” Sometimes in museums I feel that I am the only person there and I could go and open the cases or get on the platform and just touch and feel to my heart’s content. Are you sure this wasn’t a dream?
It looks so lovely.
Compared to other museums I have been to, this was definitely another kind of experience. There was not much traffic, but it was a Tuesday, and they were nearing the end of their season, a few days away from closing. I relished being alone in the rooms, along with the security guard, of course!
Seems like it was worth the gas money.
So very beautiful it all seems. Did it become a museum during Hill’s life time?
The answer to this question is a bit convoluted. In 1917 Sam’s friend, the early modern dancer Louie Fuller convinced him to turn his mansion into a museum. It was not until 1923 that he went forward with the incorporation. In 1926, Hill invited Queen Marie of Roumania to visit Maryhill and dedicate the museum. It would still be a number of years before the mansion was completed and officially opened. Samuel Hill had long been dead when it was finally opened to the public with the art in place. This realization of a beautiful museum was left to another of his friends, Alma de Bretteville Spreckels. It really is quite an amazing story.
seems like a dream and reality both at the same time. that is my favorite thing.
“I want to go to there…”