Gilded
The Edsel and Eleanor Ford House is, on the surface, a spectacular estate.The architecture--a refined lakeside Cotswold-style manor--is stunning. The grounds are immaculate. And yet, the overall experience left me with one word: tacky.
Not tacky in the sense of bad taste, but tacky in the way a museum can be when it doesn't trust its audience. The message throughout is clear: Please, middle class, come see how the well-to-do lived--but on our terms, at our pace, behind our ropes.
You arrive, eager to explore, only to find the doors locked until a specific tour time. So you wait. Outside. Like a guest at a party no one's ready to let you into. Once inside, you're sorted: self-guided vs. those who paid more for a guided tour. I could only imagine if a self-guided were to stand close and eavesdrop!
Then come the barriers. Physical and psychological. You can see how the ultra-rich lived, but do not step deep into most rooms. Velvet ropes whisper stay back. Much of the art has been replaced with copies--originals long ago donated to the DIA (how generous, but also how convenient for security). Even the books are brazenly zip-tied together, presumably to deter mischief or theft.
A low point? The kitchen. There, plastic, shiny faux-food--maybe straight from Target's preschool toy aisle--sits arranged to show what a prep area might have looked like. A plastic ham! A plastic cake! Oh, in a prep area!
You crane your neck into an ahead-of-its-time bathroom like a zoo visitor spotting a rare animal. Yes, this very bathroom. The one someone used. Then you learn it wasn't ahead-of-its-time bathroom--this was what wealth bought for you!
There's the playhouse--charming, yes, with electricity. Oh, it's a house.
The Ford's philanthropy, parenting, and perfection are woven into every communication: nannies were present, but they were involved. Citizens, yes. Philanthropists, absolutely. Divine beings, apparently.
The whole thing feels less like history and more like hagiography--a shrine to benevolent gods who once walked among us, now preserved in amber and zip ties.
Verdict: Tacky. See it on your own if you must, but honestly, try an online tour first. It probably has more dimension, access, and interesting details than what you'll get on foot. read more