by Ray Rogers
PURIST: How are you honoring and expanding upon Jack Lenor Larsen’s vision for LongHouse? Tell us about your focus on “Land, Place and Spirit,” and what that means at LongHouse.
CARRIE REBORA BARRATT: We honor and expand Jack Lenor Larsen’s extraordinary vision primarily by being open to all. A man of great foresight, he left us with the invitation to open his grounds and house to the public to share beauty, belonging, peace, and calm. He took part in the strategic plan of 2020 that looked ahead to inspire creative life through art and nature. During the fall of 2021, LongHouse took a pause post-pandemic and after he died—a double whammy that required the entire team to take time to think, to settle—and emerged with new energy to honor our piece of the planet, to preserve and nurture our gardens and collections for the present and for posterity, and to embrace the vital spirit that so many visitors feel. LongHouse is open, refreshing and full of laughter on a daily basis.
What excites you about this position?
What could be better, truly, than being in a position to care deeply about people and plants, about all living things, creating the conditions for peace? LongHouse could be considered an antidote. Come, feel good, feel free, take a deep breath, leave with a sense of well-being. That is the hope; that is the offer.
What do you most look forward to showing at LongHouse this summer?
We are thrilled to be focused on female energy throughout the gardens, anchored by our resident goddesses Yoko Ono, Toshiko Takaezu and Grace Knowlton—whose stunning orbs are freshly arranged in the dune garden—and now joined by new works from Jill Platner in the dawn redwood forest, Vadis Turner in the red garden, Hangama Amiri in the gallery, and Alice Hope’s spheres in conversation with Buckminster Fuller’s utopian geodesic dome.
Tell us more about Jill Platner’s exquisite creations on view this summer.
When Jill started working on the sculptures that now comprise her show, Talking With Trees, she envisioned seeing them as multiples in variation; wanting the viewing to feel more like an open-ended experience rather than just a decorative flourish. At LongHouse, the sculptures hang from trees, like jewelry, dangling and twisting from the branches. Like fractals found in nature, these works seemingly replicate a similar pattern, with their curves and bends, yet each one is singular in design and movement. Jill creates a loving and lively experience where people can pause and engage with the abundance of nature around them. A meditative practice for both maker and viewer, her installation serves as a reminder of our duty to celebrate life.
Community is a cornerstone of LongHouse. Why, in your view, is it so important to bring the local community and visitors to LongHouse to appreciate art in the outdoors? It feels like going forest bathing among art pieces and sculptures.
We welcome visitors from near and far, repeat local visitors and day-trippers who may have heard that we were voted among the top 20 most peaceful places in New York State. We celebrate belonging, with flexible admissions, more open days and hours. We create more experiences to engage: yoga, walking meditation, tai chi, outdoor painting, bamboo weaving, maker workshops, talks and tours, a dog day once a month, early mornings for families, and so much more in our garden of inspiring art and plants. We also love when visitors take a nap—no kidding!
Longhouse has a focus on wellness as well. It’s had weekend morning meditation and yoga offerings for years. You and your partner, Jason Amis, head of facilities operations at LongHouse, have expanded on this—with yoga classes led by Jason and other wellness activations. Why is wellness such a good fit with LongHouse?
Wellness happens at LongHouse quite naturally, as every visitor sheds their cares the moment they enter the dune garden. I’ve watched people enter—rushing from cars, focused on what’s ahead, looking for a map—and then exit with soft faces, slow walking, smiles. We have a comment board at the exit and my recent favorite comment is “I wish I could live here.” Jason’s weekend morning program fits perfectly in our ethos: yoga and walking meditation through a chemical-free, vibrant natural space. The wellness program captures the essence of land, place, spirit.
How has your past work as CEO and president of the New York Botanical Garden and deputy director at the Met informed what you are doing at LongHouse?
My life in the amazing world of museums and gardens taught me about people and art, people and plants, the joy that cultural spaces can bring. Before coming to LongHouse, during a period of hard work and self-study, I created The Solace Project—still represented by a website and a Substack newsletter—as a place for me to muse on my life and career. I have always felt that my work is a vocation, dedicated to what matters most to me and what I can offer others. LongHouse exemplifies the best of what culture can offer, a balm for the soul, a respite from the outside world, comprising fine art, design, craft, plants from around the world, and a historic house inspired by the Ise Shrine, a sacred place of pilgrimage and prayer. LongHouse is secular and welcoming to all, but the magic that many feel comes from a deeper place.
Do you have a favorite spot in the gardens where you take time for yourself?
My new favorite spot is a room in the bamboo, which is being created by schoolchildren weaving the plants together with brightly colored yarn and string. A short path leads into a hidden space; it reminds me of a green tea ceremony in Kyoto, an experience many years ago when I was on a Met trip.
Any lesser-known spots or hidden treasures here you want to call out?
I encourage everyone to look closely, move slowly. Our garden shifts and changes over the seasons and while there are always plants in full bloom and leaf, the hidden gems are the ones that are just emerging, so as one season fades, the other emerges. The daffodils give way to ferns and grasses, the cherry trees sprinkle their leaves like so much pink snow on the ground, the lushness of summer, in many shades of green, turns to yellow and red in autumn. In the morning, watch for birds. In the afternoon, listen to the frogs in the pond. LongHouse is a sensual place. longhouse.org