Rehearsal Dinner at The Ruins

Philips-Schweickert Rehearsal Dinner by Sam Day, 24 x 36 inches, oil on canvas

At the foot of Queen Anne Hill in Seattle, not far from the Space Needle, opera and ballet, there’s a old boxy warehouse with the elegance of Europe inside. The Ruins is a private dining club, where it seems we’ve entered the treasure hold of some keen-eyed collector’s rummaging trips to the continent. There are several comfortable sitting rooms for small parties, and a great dining room that feels like a trip to grandmas— if your grandma lived in a villa. And then there’s the ballroom.

The ceiling and walls of the ballroom are covered completely with murals of northwest scenes, by Jennifer Carrasco. All of her years of careful labor are loosely limned in about two hours’ work in my painting.

But that’s just backdrop to my client’s event.

This couple were married two days later at the Rainier Club. But this more intimate, unrushed evening was just for family and bridal party. The bride’s daughter, who spent a good deal of time serenading us at the piano, appears in the lower right with her flower girl friends, and her dog.

The couple

Garza-Ginther Wedding Reception, The Ruins, Seattle

This couple, both local television producers, tied the knot in a very private ceremony in Paris, in July. But they wanted to bring home a bit of Europe for their family and friends, so they held a stateside reception at The Ruins in Seattle. This hidden venue is tucked away in an old industrial space. Knowing the address, one finds a concrete building with a non-descript metal door, and a doorbell. But once inside, we are transported, as it seems, to a villa in France. There are vine draped courtyards, and room after room of elegant furnishings and art. The most formal of the dining rooms is framed in gilded trim, and features floor to ceiling murals which took artist Jennifer Carrasco three years to create.

 This is the third time I’ve painted in this room, and I hope to do it again. The place is magic.

Having dressed my canvas in some semblance of Ms. Carrasco’s nature scenes, half a dozen chandeliers, and some Venetian lamp posts, I was ready by the time the guests arrived to paint the most important features: the people. As they trickled in from cocktails in the adjacent room (to the right of my canvas), I caught a six year old girl peeking through the curtains. She was the first. Then came the couple’s teen age daughters, preteen son, and the array of parents, grandparents, siblings, and friends. Off in the distance, behind the cake, the Prague-born pianist Luke Doubravsky tickles all the keys. And shimmering in the center are the sophisticated couple.