![]() ![]() There, a graduate student in graphic design, Matthew Cole, was working in an ink-splattered apron, hand-printing an aqua woodgrain design onto paper. (The 30-plus years of SCAD-which owns buildings and businesses throughout the city-means there are students, teachers, and graduates painting, sculpting, designing, and photographing just about everywhere.) Called a “gallery hop,” the event included free shuttle service between six galleries, but we decided to stick with two, the shopSCAD store on Bull Street (chock-full of paintings, handmade jewelry, ornaments, and other pieces made or designed by students, faculty, and alumni of SCAD) and the Working Class Studio on East Lathrop Avenue, where the interesting, hangar-shaped building is built into the underpass of a highway bridge. And perhaps I’m channeling a bit of John Berendt’s Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil with this, but I often get the feeling that Savannah isn’t as scrubbed and renovated as our lovely city-that the patina of time has lingered longer in places, that life (and cocktail parties) continue on without as much fuss about fresh paint and remodeling.ĭuring one night of our visit, we attended a batch of openings at the Savannah College of Art and Design’s (SCAD) galleries. But then the differences from Charleston begin, including the novelty of Savannah’s basements (some with retail businesses or restaurants) and the garden-like squares-with statues, fountains, and corner cafés-all mixed into the residential blocks.Įverything is mixed here, with mansions next to cottages, businesses bordering neighbors’ porches or on the first floors of townhouses. There’s the tall-bridge view of the port city on the approach, and once in the historic downtown, there are plenty of steeples, Spanish moss, and iron gates. 17 and I-95, it always feels like a sister to Charleston. Here, in the 100-year-old apothecary, with its arching ceiling and stained glass inlays, there was food, drink, art, and a Southern lilt and grace-a Savannah composite, to be sure.Įvery time I arrive in this city after the 100-mile-drive down U.S. But seeing the pair was a memorable part of that recent weekend trip. It just wasn’t the time to break into their scene. My own pot of tea had just been brought to the table and was ready to be poured. I wish I could tell you who the two women were, but I can’t. We meet here and then go to the museums.” With that, they pulled on their coats and made their way to the door. “Would you believe I’ve had this mink for more than 35 years?” And her friend added, “We’re both artists. One of the waitstaff-mostly students from Savannah College of Art & Design (SCAD)-swooped in to help. When she stood to go, her full-length fur coat nearly slipped from the back of her chair. ![]() Likely in her 70s, one of them was dressed head to foot in fire engine red-lipstick, sweater, pants, and shoes-and carried the bright color with elegant confidence. Seated for tea at the Gryphon Tea Room, two women spoke softly and sipped slowly, but they were immensely noticeable. ![]()
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