A house remembered.
- 2 days ago
- 2 min read
Five years ago, I was given permission to photograph a beautiful listed house that had once belonged to a man named Robert. I never had the opportunity to meet Robert.
This was not simply an empty house. It was a portrait of a man.
The rooms contained a wonderful collection of antiques, shelves filled with unusual and fascinating books, and small personal details that revealed something of the person who had lived there. In the kitchen, packets of seeds from different trees had been carefully pinned to a cupboard. Outside was a fabulous garden filled with mature trees. There were also former maid’s quarters, remnants of an earlier way of life within the house.
Every room held another clue.
Robert had cared for his mother, and never married. His family had connections to a ladies’ outfitter that traded from Donegall Square North in Belfast. Old Belfast street directories confirm that the business was operating from that address by at least the 1940s.
Among the belongings inside the house was a suitcase containing years of correspondence between Robert and his dear friend. Their friendship had been maintained through letters over many years. Those letters were still there when I photographed the house.
I often wonder where they are now.
Robert was also passionate about MG cars. He raced them and built up a collection of his own. I would love to learn more about that part of his life and discover whether photographs, race programmes or records of him and his cars still survive. I beleive I know where the cars were moved too, but I'll keep that private.
The old movie projector, darts, slides and records. Showing us of times gone by.
Portraits lined the walls, some dating back to the mid-1800s, while the shelves were filled with books on history, architecture, language and the arts. Where did they all go?
This life size sheep dog looked so life like. WE have a licence, this was the lady who Robert had years of correspondance with in the letters. I'll keep the names omitted.
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