prints going to find an appropriate home? Some have
migrated to my office; some are sleeping in the large
drawers on the bridge that housed Beckford's collection
of coins and medals; and some, I'm afraid, have turned
the back bathroom into a miniature gallery with nine
Piranesis on the walls, my best Persian runner on the
floor, and a Hieronymus Cock
hanging over the door.
The large bedroom off the
back, moreover, has been
painted a rich terracotta in
order to complement another
small trove of Piranesis and
– more importantly – my
collection of title-pages to Sir
William Hamilton's four-volume
publication of his Greek and
Etruscan vases (arguably the
most beautiful set of books
published in the eighteenth
century). Six of the prints
devoted to Lady Hamilton's
attitudes crown the single bed,
and a large Scottish sideboard
belonging to Michael and
Sandie fills the center of the
room quite handsomely. And yes, there's a television
on the sideboard, for not everyone can afford to have
Mozart play the harpsichord in his private carriage.
All of the rooms on the back of the flat – bathroom,
kitchen, and the spare bedroom – look down on a
HYLAND
