The Legacy of a Romance – Nehru and Lady Mountbatten

By Supriya Savkoor

Hands down, the most pivotal moment in India’s modern history was its independence from the British empire, which took place at the stroke of midnight on August 15, 1947. The freedom struggle had juggernauted toward that goal for at least a hundred years. But once freedom was won, it was a bittersweet victory, with British India, the jewel in the crown, torn into not one but two countries, India and Pakistan, like twins born at the same hopeful moment then violently separated.

That’s because despite their shared ancestry and heritage, Hindus, Sikhs, and Muslims on both sides of the border erupted into violent clashes. More than 12 to 15 million people were displaced, becoming refugees, and crossing a border into a new country and new world order where they knew no one, had no roots or safety net – all because of communal (religious) riots, fear mongering, and forced uprootings. It's considered the largest migration in history, and the anger and bitterness over the events of that time still fill people on both sides of the border with much passion, mostly enmity.

An overcrowded train transferring refugees
during the partition of India, 1947

Historians say much of the blame can be placed on Lord Louis Mountbatten, India’s last viceroy and, after independence, its first governor-general. Mountbatten, who 30 years later would be assassinated in Ireland in an IRA bombing on his fishing boat, was Prince Philip’s uncle (that’s Prince Philip, as in Queen Elizabeth’s husband) as well as mentor to the young Prince Charles and "honorary grandfather."

The Mountbattens in the 1920s

A British statesman, naval officer, admiral of the fleet, a member of the British Royal Family, and the anointed Earl Mountbatten of Burma, Louis Mountbatten was sent to India by Clement Attlee, the prime minister of the UK, to India in 1947 to oversee a swift transfer of power from the British to the Indians no later than 1948. As World War II in particular had taken a huge toll on the Brits, financially and otherwise, Attlee had two priorities for Mountbatten – make the transfer quick and painless, keeping Britain’s reputation as untarnished as possible. The directive would prove to be disastrous, leading pretty much directly to the terrible rioting and displacement of so many.

Lord Mountbatten and his wife, British socialite and heiress, Edwina (nee Ashley), moved to India in 1947, and almost from the get-go, struck up a close friendship with Jawaharlal Nehru, the then-leader of the Indian National Congress, who would soon become the first prime minister of independent India. By this time, Nehru, an Anglophile who’d been sent to London for his schooling, was a widower, responsible for his young daughter, Indira (who would decades later become prime minister herself), and carrying the weight of his nation’s future on his shoulders. He’d been mentored by Mahatma Gandhi himself, rising to Congress president under Gandhi’s guidance, and widely seen as his political heir.

On the historic occasion of the raising of the
first flag of India on August 15, 1947

Though it’s more of a footnote to history, it is widely believed that Nehru and the vicerine were romantically involved. There’s certainly no doubt of their close friendship, which Lord Mountbatten knew of but either turned a blind eye to or else just accepted.

They made an odd pair, Nehru and Edwina, and not just because of the cultural differences.

Lady Mountbatten was a beautiful, glamorous, and very rich heiress, a countess who’d descended from earls and barons. She’d largely lived a life of leisure, and despite two young daughters, she and her husband had an open marriage in which they both had many affairs, some scandalous.

Nehru, on the other hand, hailed from a political family, and had spent his entire career in the pursuit of India’s independence, building his reputation as a hard-working, unflagging nationalist.

The iconic and much-analyzed photo
taken by Henri Cartier-Bresson in 1948

And yet, the countess spent endless afternoons with the handsome and charismatic politician, chatting about everything under the sun as well as sitting together in long stretches of comfortable silence. Though the Mountbattens lived in Delhi for only a few years, Lady Mountbatten visited India at least once or twice a year till the end of her life. Suitcases upon suitcases of letters to her from Nehru have been the subject of several books, including one by her daughter Pamela. (Check out this fascinating interview of Pamela on the topic from only a few years ago.) Lord Mountbatten himself once wrote to Edwina’s sister of how his wife and the would-be prime minister “are so sweet together, they really dote on each other.”

Did they or didn’t they seems to be the question many want to ask, and those who’ve read the letters say they probably didn’t. But many of the letters include exchanges of affection and longing, counting the days till they would get to see each other next. Historian Alex von Tunzelmann wrote in her 2007 book on the subject that Lady Mountbatten had written a letter to her husband stating that her relationship with Nehru was “mostly platonic. Mostly, but not always.” (What do you suppose hubby’s response was to that admission? We’ll have to read the book to find out.)

The more intriguing speculation is what powers of persuasion did the wife of Britain’s top representative in India have on India's top politician and powerbroker? Mountbatten himself said on occasion that if he wanted to convince Nehru of something, he would put his wife on the task of broaching it at one of their private meetings. The expedited timetable for independence, negotiations with all the various power players in reaching a consensus, the partition of the two states, the Kashmir issue that remains a huge thorn in regional stability even today.... all these and more were topics Nehru, bogged down by worry and his huge responsibility to his country, discussed with his confidante and possible lover.

If it sounds like a movie, it almost was. von Tunzelmann’s 2007 book, Indian Summer: The Secret End of an Empire, was set to be adapted into a film starring Hugh Grant and Cate Blanchett as the Mountbattens and Irfhan Khan as Nehru. But plans halted when the Indian government refused to allow filming in the country unless the filmmakers agreed to take out the scandalous aspects about its first prime minister.

But how did it all end? Thirteen years after India’s independence, Edwina, only 58, died in her sleep while on a trip to Borneo, a stack of Nehru’s letters sitting on her nightstand. As the Royal Navy took her body to Britain's southern coast for a sea burial, Prime Minister Nehru sent a fleet of Indian Navy ships to cast a wreath into the water on his behalf. He died barely four years later.

A Portrait of Love – Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera

Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera photograph by Carlo Van Vechten

The girls here on the blog often give me a hard time about my soppy, romantic tendencies and truth be told, I can’t deny it. I’m a sucker for a good love story – the more tragic, the better. That’s probably why I like to make the poor characters in my books suffer heartbreak at every turn. This works great in fiction, but not so wonderful when it’s real life. Sometimes, though, out of tragedy and suffering, great things can grow.

Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera go down in my books as a couple who left an indelible imprint on history. Born in 1907, Frida suffered from polio, and even though she lived, the disease left her with a withered leg that she always kept covered. In an effort to help his young daughter heal, Frida’s father gave her some paints, thus began a journey that would take many twists and turns.

At the age of eighteen, Frida boarded a bus with her then-boyfriend, Alejandro Gómez Arias. They’d planned to travel to her home on Coyocán, Mexico, but the bus had an accident with an electric trolley car, throwing bodies in every direction. Alejandro found Frida with a pole sticking out of her torso, and she was hospitalised with a myriad of injuries. Her dream of becoming a doctor disappeared and instead, she was left with more physical challenges. The only solace she found from the physical and emotional pain was through her painting.

One of Frida's fascinating paintings

Frida first met Diego Rivera when she was a student at an exclusive prep school in Mexico City. Twenty years her senior, Rivera had been employed to paint the school auditorium. Frida fell in with a crowd who loved to play pranks, so she became involved with soaping stairs for Rivera to fall on and popping water balloons over his head. Rivera and Frida had yet to discover their true destiny.

Alejandro went off the scene after the accident, and years later, Frida met Rivera again. Frustrated with her work, she asked his truthful opinion about her painting. Rivera replied, “Keep it up, little girl.” She invited him to her house to show more work, and this is when they realised they had more in common that just painting. When Frida was 22 and Rivera 42, they married. Frida’s mother disapproved of the tall, well-padded Rivera, and therefore didn’t attend the wedding.

The couple moved into a house shared by communists and not long after Frida became pregnant, but couldn’t go through with it as her life was at risk because of all her earlier physical complications. Later, Frida expressed her disappointment with her inability to have children through her paintings, with themes of childbirth, blood, and fertility.

She and Diego moved to the United States in 1930, and Frida fell under Rivera’s shadow. She played the “good housewife” while he lapped up the attention, and she suffered through his many extramarital affairs, including one with her own sister, Cristina. In 1933, the couple returned to Mexico, and during this time, they both had extramarital affairs. Kahlo had many lovers, both male and female, including Leon Trotsky. Her romance with him inspired her to pursue her painting on a larger scale, and by 1938, Frida’s work who traveled to New York, where she finally gained the recognition she’d craved.

In 1940, Frida and Rivera finally divorced and it was during this time, she produced some of her most renowned work. Turning to themes of death and religious symbolism, Frida cemented her position among the Surrealists.

Photo by Patrice Raunet Hollywood Mural by Siner

The last ten years of her life were more tranquil, all the romantic heartache and rejection behind her. She taught at La Esmeralda, an art institute in Mexico. As her failing health took its toll, Frida set up her easel while she was in hospital, and continued painting. In 1950, she and Rivera remarried (yes, they did!), and in 1953, she exhibited her work for the first time in Mexico.  

In 1957, Frida Kahlo passed away, leaving a legacy of artwork that has been respected and admired for decades. The ups and down of her romance with Diego Rivera no doubt influenced her work, and it would be interesting to know what she would have produced (if anything) had her life been a Mills and Boon or Harlequin romance. I doubt we’d have such evocative and memorable paintings as we do now.

So there you have it. Sometimes out of great tragedy, comes something very special – the works of Frida Kahlo.

Esther and Xerxes - A Cross-Cultural Love Story

Tomb of Esther and Mordecai
Photo by Philippe Chavin

On a quiet street in Hamadan, a sprawling city in the foothills of Iran’s Alvand mountains, stands an unassuming monument to Biblical history. It is a crudely fashioned brick building with a domed tower rising awkwardly at one end. The sand-colored structure has no adornment except for two diamond-shaped patterns on the side of the dome, made of turquoise-colored tile. And yet this odd little building is reputed to house the final resting place of two beloved Old Testament figures: Queen Esther, the second wife of Persia’s King Xerxes (486–465), and Mordecai, Esther’s older cousin and guardian.

Of course, there is a story attached to this holy site, and it begins with a big party. King Xerxes had been drinking a little too much wine when he ordered his queen, Vashti, to display her beauty in front of all his male friends. She refused and in a rage, he cast her aside and went looking for a new queen.

Xerxes replaced Vashti with a Jewish orphan named Esther, who’d been raised by her cousin , Mordecai, after her parents died. This cousin had earned favor with the king when he’d overheard two guards plotting to murder Xerxes. Naturally, Mordecai went straight to the monarch with the news and was rewarded with many royal favors, not least of which was to become Xerxes’s cousin-in-law. Nevertheless, neither Esther nor Mordecai told the king that they were Jewish and not Persian.

Not everyone was happy with the king’s new marital situation. Haman, a powerful royal adviser, became enraged when Mordecai refused to bow down before him. (And why should the Mordecai do so? He’s now related to the king.) In his rage, Haman hatches a plot to kill not just the queen’s recalcitrant cousin, but all Jews in Persia. He casts lots to determine which day would be the most auspicious time for a massacre.

The sharp-eared Mordecai again uncovered the plot. But this time, instead of going straight to the king, he asked Esther to use her influence with her husband to prevent the calamity. However, Persia had a law at the time that prevented anyone from approaching the king unbidden on pain of death. Apparently, this law also applied to the Queen. But Esther overcame her fear of breaking this law and asked her husband if he could grant her a favor.

“You may have anything you wish,” Xerxes told her, not at all enraged that she’d approached him without permission. “Even if it is half my kingdom.”

All Esther asked for was a banquet, to be held for her, the king, and Haman. At a second banquet some time later, she revealed the plot to kill the Jews as well as her own Jewish faith. (I’m not entirely sure why she needed two banquets to get the job done, but apparently she had her reasons.) Outraged by the revelation, Xerxes ordered Haman to be hanged on the same gallows the man had erected for Mordecai.

Jews today celebrate their deliverance from the impending massacre with the festival of Purim, named after the lots Haman had drawn to determine the day on which the deed was to take place. (Pur means “lot” in Hebrew.) And they revere Esther for having the courage to face possible death so as to save her people.

This story raises questions in my mind. Why didn’t Mordecai go straight to Xerxes and ask him to save the Jews? Why did Esther fear for her life when it’s clear that the king loved her so much he was willing to grant her half his kingdom? Wouldn’t a wife have known that? And why was Esther buried next to her cousin and guardian and not near her husband, the king?

In fact, no one knows for sure if Esther and Mordecai really are buried in the unassuming, brick shrine in Hamadan. No archaeological studies have been conducted on the remains. What’s more, the village of Kfar Baram in northern Israel also claims to be the place where Esther is buried. Yet many scholars do not believe that Esther existed in the first place but is merely the central figure in a Biblical morality tale.

As for me, I like to think that the tomb of Esther and Mordecai is the real deal. I still remember the sense of wonder I felt on entering the plain, brick-walled shrine and finding myself inside the richly decorated inner sanctuary where the reflection from the red brocade cloths draped over the sarcophaguses created an ethereal glow in the soft light from an overhead chandelier. The place fits Esther’s story somehow, a rags-to-riches tale of intrigue, courage, and survival.

It’s also a love story, and a cross-cultural one at that. Xerxes would likely not have stopped the massacre out of the kindness of his heart, let alone execute his trusted advisor. But he adored his wife and, since she was Jewish, he wanted to save her people to please her. So maybe love does indeed conquer all.

Off The Beaten Track: Photography Journey -- Thailand, Vietnam, and Cambodia

We continue David Townsend's photography series this week with a journey to Southeast Asia. David is a professional photographer from Denver, Colorado. A self-taught photographer, David's journey started fifteen years ago when he captured the beauty of nature and landscapes in his home state.  He later became an accomplished portrait photographer and master of the digital darkroom.  Portrait photography eventually led him into photographing weddings, and now he and his wife, Lynn, own David Lynn Photography, a thriving wedding and portrait photography business.  David also teaches his skills to new and aspiring photographers with his Shootshops Photography Workshops. Travel and photography have always remained David’s true passions, and he takes every opportunity to combine these whenever possible.

David’s travels have taken him all over the United States, and to three other continents and fifteen countries: Canada, Mexico, Guatemala, Belize, Costa Rica, Chile, Argentina, Italy, South Africa, Botswana, Zambia, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam.

Websites:

www.townsendphotography.com

www.davidlynnphoto.com

www.shootshops.com

www.facebook.com/davidlynnphotography

My wife Lynn and I took a six week journey through Southeast Asia, feasting our eyes on the beauty of each country, taking every opportunity to sample the most amazing culinary tastes in the world. We soaked in the scenery with our senses and let our cameras capture it all. 

These images can be found at www.townsendphotography.com ~ world galleries

The wats (temples) in Thailand are abundant, and all of them contain an image of the Buddha in one of many poses.  In this image, monks are gathered in a wat for meditation. 

TIP:  It is always important to learn customs, traditions, and protocol in the country you are visiting.  It would have been very disruptive and disrespectful to walk in to the temple and shoot pictures, so I used a telephoto lens from far outside to capture this image.

These young novice monks were very intrigued by me and my camera, and they were very open to having their picture taken.  After asking them permission, I waited until they had these very thoughtful expressions.

TIP:  When shooting children up close while traveling, start by engaging them first, and then pick up your camera to take pictures.

This image in northern Thailand creates mood through warm sunlight, the mist rising off the river, and the smoke coming from one of the village homes.

TIP:  You can always shoot into the sun, and many times it gives interesting and artistic lens flare.  If the sun is just casting a hazy film over your image, use a lens hood or shade the lens with your hand when shooting.

Chiang Mai in northern Thailand is famous for its markets, and the night market is no exception.  There are loads of amazing crafts, clothes, sculptures and trinkets to stuff in your bag, and there’s always an amazing assortment of food to choose from.

TIP: Night photography is a fun way to liven up your evenings.  Using a tripod, choose a bright light in the scene to focus on, choose a “wide open” aperture (f2.8, f3.5 etc) and set your shutter speed for a variety of long exposures and see what looks the best!  Using your camera’s timer is a great way to prevent shaking the camera when you press the shutter.

 

Southeast Asia’s landscape is absolutely amazing, but the most beautiful part about the region is the people.  The people of Thailand, Vietnam, and Cambodia are some of the most friendly in the world, and I am always gravitating toward them as much as I am the landscape.  I chose the warm black and white tones for these images to draw the eye to the expressions and features of the people’s faces without the distraction of color.

TIP:  When travelling, photograph people using a telephoto lens.  It allows you to be non-intrusive, and let’s you get up close and personal without being in their space.

The city of Hanoi, Vietnam has a population of 6 million people, and they boast a population of almost 4 million motorcycles!  The city is a constant flow of motorbikes and cars, and it is one of life’s greatest adventures to try and cross the street.  Intersections are a chaotic pulse of vehicles with no apparent rhyme or reason, and I found myself just in awe of the bustle of this charming city.

TIP:  To capture movement, use shutter speeds to achieve different effects.  Fast shutter speeds will “freeze” action, and slower shutter speeds will create blurred movement.  How much of an effect will depend on the shutter speed and the pace of your moving subject, so experiment with different settings in each shooting situation.

I shot this Asian market scene on a typically foggy day in Sapa, Vietnam in the northern part of the country.  I pre-arranged the composition I wanted, and then waited until just the right subject walked through my image frame.

TIP:  Using creative tools like vertical orientation and an ever so slight tilt of the camera helps to lead the viewer’s eye toward a particular part of the image.

These images of Vietnam, one from Halong Bay and the other from rice fields near Sapa in the north, both capture a sense of place in addition to telling a story.  Halong Bay is an amazing natural wonder of Asia, with a dense collection of monolithic limestone islands that are covered with jungle vegetation. Among them you can find caves, lakes and secluded beaches.  There is also a population of people who call Halong Bay home, as in floating home.   Rice fields are abundant throughout Asia, and women hunkered over working all day are a commonplace sight in these fields.

TIP: Use wide-angle lenses to include important or dramatic elements in your image.  The halong Bay shot has the two people in the boat to tell the story of how people get around in the bay.  The rice fields show the workers small in the image, giving scope and perspective to the scene.

These kids in northern Vietnam were all about playing and being photographed, so I had an easy time playing with them and getting a couple good shots.  I chose to focus on the two laughing boys behind the kid in front, while still maintaining his expression clearly.

TIP:  Use larger aperture values (f9, f11, f16) to achieve greater depth of focus throughout your image.  Smaller aperture values (f2.8, f3.5, f4.5) will yield less depth of focus and beautifully blurred backgrounds. DSLR cameras also have an Autofocus tracking system that tracks a moving subject and keeps them in focus, a really useful tool when photographing action.

Strolling through a gorgeous city park in Hanoi, Vietnam, I was impressed by the amount of people of all ages doing Tai Chi. Until I saw them, it never occurred to me that it was regularly practiced in its region of origin!

TIP:  Use anything in your environment to “frame” your subject making a more engaging image.  Here, I placed the woman right in the empty space of tree branches, forming a perfect natural frame.

Angkor, Cambodia is one of the most amazing ruin sites in the world.  The ruins are from the Khmer Empire, 9th to 15th centuries, and span about 120 sq mi (323 sq km).  I spent three solid days from before sunrise to after sunset wandering through and photographing these amazing structures.

TIPS:  Angkor Wat – I photographed this enormous temple from another ruin site that afforded a breathtaking view of the temple from afar, allowing me to show its massive presence in the jungle. 

Ta Prohm Temple – This is the most dramatic example of the jungle actually taking over these ancient buildings.  I used a black and white tone in this image to highlight the contrast of the tree and the ruin and lends well to its ancient nature.

Bayon Faces – I used my telephoto zoom lens to crop in on just these three faces to highlight that specific feature in the temple.

Angkor Reflection – I photographed these lotus flowers using the reflection of the temple spires and the rising sun as an added element in this silhouette, being careful to place them right between the spires in the water.

I asked these monks permission to take their photo and they were more than gracious. Always be respectful of persons of religious nature or prominent individuals in a culture or society.  Particularly with children, offer to show them the picture on your camera after shooting it.  It’s an instant icebreaker and (usually) gets your subject more willing to have their photo taken.

TIP:  I used two simple composition techniques here to create an interesting image:  I placed the subjects slightly off center, and I tilted my camera slightly to create a more dynamic angle.

The giant limestone islands of Thailand’s islands always amaze me, and I love finding new ways to photograph them.  This was a great opportunity to shoot one of them with the boat shown for size comparison.

TIP:  When choosing a subject, use a wide angle on whatever lens you have and include another object or element that creates a sense of perspective or scale.

The island of Ko Phi Phi was a particularly rare visit for this trip, as it was one of the islands hit by the tsunami of 2004.  The devastation was massive, and as I photographed the middle of the island from up high, I was acutely aware of what it must have felt like to watch the event unfold.  It made me deeply thankful for all the safe travels I have had in my life.  Lastly, a trip to Southeast Asia’s islands wouldn’t be complete without an incredibly gorgeous sunset.

TIP:  Include a foreground element (like the palm trees) to add an appealing element to your image.  Also, when photographing water around sunrise and sunset, look for reflections of color from the sky.  Try to create unique images of just the colored water, leaving out the actual sunset sky.

Colonial Dutch Architecture of Paramaribo

If you’re a fan of the natural world, wild places, or cultural heritage, you’ve likely visited a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The World Heritage list was created by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) in 1972 to “encourage the identification, protection and preservation of cultural and natural heritage around the world considered to be of outstanding value to humanity.”

I seek out World Heritage Sites when traveling, as do hordes of tourists. So many, in fact, that sites now face additional pressures from visitors touching, looting, or sometimes just breathing on artifacts, not to mention poorly planned tourist development around sites. The travertine terraces of Pamukkale, Turkey is one example of many I’ve seen recently.

There are, however, a few remaining countries where you can find World Heritage sites free of tourists - good for you, if not the local country’s economy. One of these countries is Suriname, which has two UNESCO sites, one cultural and one natural. And both happen to be settings in my first mystery. The natural site is the Central Suriname Nature Reserve, although I use a different name for the park in my book.

The cultural site is historic Paramaribo, which became a World Heritage Site in 2002. The white timbered Dutch colonial buildings of the old city are a unique fusion of Dutch architecture from the 17th and 18th centuries with the indigenous cultures and tropical environment of the northeast "wild coast" of South America.

The original inhabitants of Suriname were Carib Indians along the mangrove coast, and Trío, Wayana, and Akuriyo Amerindians in the tropical rainforest interior. Paramaribo, the capital, was settled about ten miles inland from the coast, along the Suriname River. The French arrived first, followed by the English, who established sugar and tobacco plantations on the west bank. In the late 1600s, the Dutch swapped New Amsterdam (part of present-day New York) for the English territory in Suriname and remained until Suriname’s full independence in 1975. 

To work their plantations, the Dutch imported West Africans and later, with the abolition of slavery in the 1860s, indentured laborers from Indonesia, India, China, and Lebanon, creating a cultural and ethnic diversity reflected in the city’s present-day appearance, both old town and new.

Set against sun-dappled streets lined with grizzled mahoganies, the old town’s mostly clapboard buildings are simple and symmetrically uniform, likely due to the country’s abundance of tropical hardwoods and isolation from any grand cities. Doors and windows were usually matching and repeated on each story, with shutters and louvres painted dark green, and designed for the rainy, humid climate. The well-crafted, detailed designs and woodwork are a tradition still found among Suriname’s many talented wood carvers.

Bricks, in contrast to wood, were expensive and were used mainly for stoops and foundations, which were painted red, the color of Suriname’s dusty interior roads and tropical soils. Older roofs were high and steep due to the wooden shingles and leaves used for roofing materials, until two major fires in the early 1800s caused a switch to slate and baked roof tiles. As new roofing materials were introduced, such as galvanized zinc around 1870, roof shapes became less sloped.

Working in Paramaribo’s old town was a highlight of my two years living in Paramaribo, and I had a few favorite buildings, including the building housing Conservation International (above) and the Presidential Palace (below), with its white veranda and adjacent palm garden. I was also very fond of my own office with WWF, but I can't seem to find a photo. You can click here for more photos, maps, and videos of Paramaribo's historic old town.

Bottle Caps, Footmen, and A Touch of Jazz – The Story of a House

The entrance to the Smithsonian Castle
in Washington, D.C.

Culture shock, the good kind, hit hard when I moved from Texas to Washington, D.C. Everything is different here, from the trivial to the grand. Cab drivers chatting about politics and literature. The super quiet subways, where everyone is reading, reading, reading. The view across the Potomac River, especially at the Tidal Basin when the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, the breeze blowing around little pink and white blooms like magic confetti.

Then there’s the architecture. The awe-inspiring national monuments, built in Greek Revival style, excerpts of speeches by Jefferson, Lincoln, and Washington etched into the granite walls. The famous buildings that hold our three cherished branches of government, universal symbols of democracy and all things American. The museums – not just the exhibits, but also the enormous edifices that house them. The Old World urban layout, including the roundabouts with pretty fountains and gardens, designed by Pierre L’Enfant, the French architect who also planned Versailles. The Library of Congress, which stores a copy of every book published anywhere in the world. (Do they still do that, in this age of e-books and e-readers, I wonder?)

And, of course, the embassies, dozens of them along Massachusetts Avenue, NW, not far from where I lived in Dupont Circle. Peru, Denmark, Cape Verde, Bulgaria, Japan. It seemed to me back then, and often still does, that strolling by these buildings was akin to making a really quick visit abroad.

(Photo: M.V. Jantzen)

Tucked away on a quiet corner of Embassy Row stands a Beaux Arts mansion that has always intrigued me. Back then it was both the Embassy of Turkey as well as the Turkish ambassador’s residence, and no matter how often I passed it, its stunning exterior always gave me pause. In the early ’90s, I couldn’t take photos of it because very serious-looking men stood guard out front like vigilantes, holding big machine guns and menacingly approaching passersby, particularly those with cameras, who glanced their way for too long. I never knew exactly why they were there, but over the next decade, the country underwent a military coup, was slapped with more than 1,500 judgments by the European Union for human rights violations, enforced a NATO-led, no-fly zone at its border with Iraq, and closed its border with Azerbaijan to avoid a civil war there from spilling into its own borders. Who knows which of those issues led to the extra security.

Regardless, the armed guards are long gone, and the embassy itself is now housed in a separate chancery right on Mass Ave (as Washingtonians call it). But the ambassador still resides at the impressive old mansion, which is one of the city’s most important historic buildings and has its own colorful story to tell.

Believe it or not, this impressive mansion sits atop what was once a city dump. In 1909, Ohio millionaire and philanthropist, Edward H. Everett, purchased the property. Everett earned his fortune, among other things, for inventing the crimped Coca Cola bottle cap. He was a pioneer in glassmaking (think fruit jars and soda and beer bottles), owned oil companies in Texas and Ohio, and had been a large shareholder of Anheuser-Busch in St. Louis.

The view from the dining room
into the conservatory
(Photo: Library of Congress)

To build his dream house, Everett hired the famous Washington architect, George Oakley Totten, Jr., who by then had already designed quite a few Washington embassies and public buildings and had served as an advisor on the remodeling of the U.S. Capitol Building and as chief designer to the Office of the Supervising Architect for the Department of the Treasury. The birth of the Republic of Turkey was still decades away, but ironically, Totten had strong ties to the region. He'd designed the first U.S. chancery in Istanbul and the residence for Izzet Pasha, the grand vezir (counselor) and prime minister of the Ottoman Empire. Totten's work impressed his client so much, he was offered (but declined) the post of "private architect to the sultan."

Totten liked to experiment with different architectural styles around Embassy Row, and Everett’s house was no exception. The architect blended three architectural periods in his design for the mansion: 16th-century Italian, 18th-century Romanesque, and 19th-century Art Deco, borrowing additional decorative features from Ottoman styles. It took five years to build, and when it was complete in 1915, the Edward Everett House, as it is still known, had some of the most innovative features of the time, including a Webster air washer and a built-in humidifier. 

The palatial, three-storied home also featured – still features, in fact – an enormous foyer with a black-and-white marble floor, teakwood floors everywhere else, marble fireplaces, ornamental ceilings in every room, a swimming pool in the basement, a ballroom, a musicians’ gallery, an elevator, and a rooftop garden. According to the society pages from newspapers of the time, the Everetts threw many a lavish party in this home, including festive musical evenings featuring singers from New York’s Metropolitan Opera. At least one party included 3,000 guests, an orchestra that played till 3 a.m., a lavish dinner, and footmen who wore “mulberry livery, with white silk stockings and pumps with silver buckles everywhere.” (Gotta feel sorry for those poor footmen.) 

 

After Everett’s death, the government of Turkey leased the space in 1932 from Everett’s widow then bought the house – including all of its furnishings – outright in 1936. Total cost, $265,000, though even back then the house was valued at more than $400,000.

Munir Ertegun
(Photo: Library of Congress)

Turkey was a young country at the time, only a couple decades out from when the Ottoman Empire was defeated in World War I and Ataturk, who’d led the country’s national independence movement and founded the modern republic, still served as its first president.

A jazz enthusiast, Munir Ertegun, a career diplomat, became Turkey’s first ambassador and moved into the new Washington embassy and residence, where he lived and worked until his death in 1944. Ertegun’s sons, Ahmet and Nesuhi Ertegun, shared their father’s love of music and went on to found Atlantic Records and discover such legendary artists as Led Zeppelin, Ray Charles, Aretha Franklin, the Rolling Stones, Eric Clapton, Otis Redding, John Coltrane ... on and on, right up to Kid Rock. At one time, Ahmet served as chairman for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. How’s that for circling the globe?

Ahmet and Nesuhi Ertegun

Before their rise to music mogul status, Ahmet and Nesuhi urged their father to host jazz events at home in D.C., a tradition that the embassy continues into today. The Turkish embassy was one of the few places in the highly segregated D.C. of the 1930s and 1940s to host racially mixed musicians and audiences. According to the current ambassador, angry southern senators complained to the first Turkish ambassador about his custom of not only letting black musicians into his home but letting them come in through the front door. Ambassador Ertegun kindly responded to at least one of these white senators that he too was welcome to attend the concerts if he was interested, only he would have to enter through the back door. Among the notable guests who played in the Erteguns' home: Duke Ellington, Cab Calloway, and Lena Horne. 

Lawrence Brown and Johnny Hodges
perform at the embassy in the 1930s

Last year, the embassy won a “best embassy” distinction in a Washington Post survey, following a series of jazz concerts it held with Jazz at Lincoln Center in honor of the former diplomat’s late sons and to commemorate Black History Month.

In an interesting side note, when Ambassador Munir Ertegun passed away in 1944, Washington had no mosque at which to hold his funeral. As a result, the beautiful Islamic Center of Washington was born, the movement to build it led primarily by the Washington diplomatic community. The center, to this day, is controlled by a board of governors made up ambassadors. Heard of anything like that before?

But back to the house. Now that there are no hired guns – human or otherwise – guarding the historic old mansion, I might finally be able to pay it a visit, camera in tow.