- For aesthetic reasons, it lacks various security features that are obviously part of the real White House, such as bulletproof glass shields in front of the windows of the Oval Office (somehow it's not too hard to imagine a storyline where Bartlet bristles at having these installed).
- The set is allegedly the largest in television history, sprawling over three soundstages at the Warner Brothers studio.
- The walls of the sets can be dropped in order to achieve better camera angles (the ability to make the same set look very different with creative camera angles and lighting is something I've repeatedly noticed and remarked upon in my recapping).
- There are no busts of Republican presidents on display, because apparently Martin Sheen refuses to be in the same room as such items. But inside one of those doors in the Oval Office that never gets opened on-screen, there's a poster of Che taped up. Between takes, Martin opens the door and looks at it to ground himself. Okay, I'm kidding about the poster, but not the busts.
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The May 2002 issue of Architectural Digest features Martin Sheen on the cover, looking exceedingly presidential in a navy suit, sitting in a luscious chocolate brown leather chair in the study of his Santa Monica pied-à-terre, the subject of the cover story. Of course, since this is Hollywood we're talking about, what qualifies as a pied-à-terre is the sort of thing for which many people would give their eye teeth, and which, I expect, costs more to buy and renovate than many of us will earn in our entire lives. The article, "Martin Sheen: A Canyon Hideaway for the Actor and His Wife" by Penelope Rowlands, is of course pretty much a puff piece: this is Architectural Digest, not The National Enquirer. Sheen describes the house as having been a run-down sixty-year-old cottage, unwanted by anyone else in the "very hoity-toity" neighbourhood in which it sits. (Psst, Martin: I bet your neighbours read Architectural Digest.) Given the spectacular views overlooking the mountains, the Pacific Ocean, and the Santa Monica Canyon afforded by this property, I can't believe there'd be any trouble selling a house in such a location, whether to someone who wanted to fix it up or gut it or raze it to the ground, but then I'm the sort of person who looks at a filthy Victorian house in the sticks and falls in love with what could be, and to whom arguments about time/money/ blood/sweat/ tears/sanity fall on deaf ears. So I'm probably not the best judge of what people should see when they look at real estate. Anyway, Martin and his wife Janet actually have a home in Malibu, which Martin describes as his "favourite place in the world," but the notorious California commuting problem finally forced them to consider getting a place closer to the Hollywood studios. They purchased this house during the filming of The American President. Apparently, when they bought it, Martin felt they couldn't afford to renovate it, and believed they'd just use it as the equivalent of a crash space. Janet claims to have smiled and gone along with this, and then proceeded to do what she wanted: "Just as [she] always [does]."
And what Janet wanted was, with the assistance of architect Carl Volante and her friend, designer Barbara O'Kun, to do the house over completely, giving free expression to her artistic impulses. She describes it as having been a "little hole in the wall" (oh, how I wish there were "before" pictures so I could ascertain just how much of a hole in the wall; I can't help but suspect that very affluent people probably have a different definition of "hole in the wall" than you and I do). She states, "When I got going, there was no stopping me." Sing it, sister. That's the problem with renovating and redecorating: everything you touch makes everything you don't touch look worse by comparison. You have to keep going, and going, and God help me, going. Can I get an amen?
The house, as pictured, is lovely. There are photos of the living room, dining room, bedroom, study, and terrace. It bears a mixture of European and Asian influences, and Janet says she was trying to copy the feeling of a small Parisian hotel she and Martin love: "elegant and small and cozy and colourful." It certainly is all of those things, and then some.
Janet has excellent taste, particularly in textiles, textures, and colours. The house features chairs upholstered in beautiful velvets and mouth-watering leathers, a bed draped in an absolutely gorgeous Flemish tapestry, lush, colourful area rugs, lustrous hardwood floors, and furniture and objets d'art from around the globe, ranging from a fabulous Japanese screen to carvings from Guatemala. The only aspect of it I don't particularly care for is the use of lots and lots of yellow metals (gold, brass, etc.) in accents and accessories; but that's my own personal peeve, and really, it suits the house and its style and looks quite appropriate.
The desk in Martin's study is placed in front of a large window, one which overlooks the canyon. The view is so gorgeous that I looked at the picture several times before noticing that the desktop features lots of framed photos of Sheen family and friends (get your magnifying glasses out) as well as a script for The West Wing and the official book carefully arranged on it to look casual. A Louis Vuitton bag is "nonchalantly" placed by the foot of the desk, and completely apart from wondering whether Martin is actually the type to carry such a bag, the fact that it's mentioned in the caption for the photo, when it's completely tangential, if not completely irrelevant, to the story, shouts "product placement!"
The author describes the home as "cottagey," which is an adjective you could only apply to this home if you were accustomed to quite a good deal more space and money and quality in interior design and decoration than most people have. And speaking of living standards...given Martin's well-known leftist politics, the Santa Monica house doesn't really match the picture I had in my head of how he lived (not that I've ever given it a tremendous amount of thought; most of the space available in my brain for design-related thoughts is reserved for worrying about my own house, and after that, my loathing of most modern developments in housing, architecture, and decoration.) I mean, logically, I knew he didn't live in a hovel with mismatched thrift-store kitchen chairs and posters of Che taped on the walls, but it's still slightly surprising to see just how comfortably he and his wife live. One does get the impression, though, that it's mostly a matter of Janet expressing herself and Martin just going along with it because he loves her, although he does like the house: "Like a lot of lugs who are married to very artistic people, I know it when I see it, but I don't know how you get there." The author points out that Martin's "sole contribution was to request a ceiling fan for the upstairs den." No word of whether he actually got it. Perhaps Janet feels the same way about ceiling fans as Laurie Hickson-Smith and I do: rip'em out!
The article talks a little bit about Martin's modest beginnings, including getting evicted multiple times while living in New York during the 1960s as a struggling actor before moving to California around 1970. The author mentions Martin's lifelong and deep commitment to social justice, adding that he's been arrested sixty-four times now, and is currently on probation for trespassing at Vandenburg Air Force Base. Apparently, at his last trial, the judge made it pretty clear that he'd had enough of Martin's political activities, and the arrest means The Big House, and I bet it won't have velvet-covered side chairs. Martin: "I'll go right to jail. I won't pass go. It could take the wind out of my sails." Wonder if the judge would let him serve time on the weekends, as many big-shot convicts are allowed to do, so he could still shoot the show. (Probably depends on the political affiliation of the sentencing judge.)
Moving along, I turn my attention to the article on The West Wing sets, called "The Politics of Design: Behind the Scenes of the Emmy Award-Winning Television Series The West Wing" by Michael Frank. Regular readers of my recaps will be familiar with my views on the sets: meh, they're okay. No, I'm joking, of course. I adore the sets, particularly the way the colours of the walls look so rich and variable and pleochroic on-screen; this, of course, is equally due to the skill of the lighting crew. (The article notes that most of the walls are painted brighter colours than in the actual White House, because of course, television lighting is so strong that it washes out weak colours.) The sets on this show are so good I often think of them as having the force and presence of the lead actors...okay, I admit to being rather susceptible to matters of interior decoration and design, but you have to admit: they are superb. The set decorator's name is Ellen Totleben and the production designer's name is James Hardy. I'll pause for a moment so you can genuflect in their general direction. They are both very talented people. You should also honour the name of Jon Hutman, who preceded Hardy and designed about half the sets. Props all around!
Hardy and Totleben seem to have been given, during the Clinton administration, fairly liberal (no pun intended) access to the White House, and managed to absorb lots of the kind of details that they've incorporated into the set for a more realistic feel, always balancing these with the requirements of television and an eye for elegance and aesthetics. Hardy comments in the article on the crowding and disorder in the real White House, as the West Wing struggles to accommodate a growing staff, not to mention the profusion of office machinery and computers and gadgetry crammed in along with everyone. You see this reflected on the show to some extent, especially in the Communications bullpen and Donna's cubicle area, and to a lesser extent in Josh's office, for example. Leo's and Jed's offices remain typically immaculate, though. Other details include the changes of clothing and footwear kept in staffers' offices; the ubiquitous television monitors; red "Crash" telephones, and my favourite, the "POTUS locator box," which is "a clock radio-like contraption that constantly discloses the whereabouts" of POTUS, FLOTUS, and VPOTUS. The author notes that the crew of the show no longer has access to the White House. Imagine that.
The article features photos of the Oval Office, the lobby, the Roosevelt Room, Leo's office, the Mural Room, the First Bedroom, and President Bartlet's sitting room. I'm a little disappointed that we don't get to see the offices of C.J., Josh, Toby, or Sam, since most of us enjoy spotting the little details of each of those locations (such as a goldfish named Gail), the things that personalize the offices and shed small amounts of light on the characters. Speaking of which, Totleben points out that when the real Oval Office is photographed, it's usually stripped of those items and tchotchkes that make it more personal and less official, and one of the things she's tried to do with the Oval Office on the show is to carefully embellish the room with books and objects that evoke Bartlet's interest in parks and conservation. In Leo's office, the tchotchkes pay tribute to his interest in things nautical and his military experience. The fictional Roosevelt Room is apparently more attractive than the actual one.
Sadly, there aren't any photos of the Manchester house either, which is too bad. I think the only house I've ever seen on a TV series that I like more than that one is the Salingers' stupendous, sprawling, Pacific Heights Victorian on Party of Five. That Manchester house was just fantastic, and I'd love to see more of it.
Some other interesting tidbits about the set:
Some of the art in Mrs. Landingham's office area is made by children, including Totleben's daughter.
When some real White House staffers visited the set during the 2000 Democratic convention, they were very impressed with how well the actual White House had been replicated, and wanted to have their pictures taken sitting at the President's desk, something that would never be allowed in the White House.
I have no beefs with this article other than that I would have loved to have more pictures. Lots more pictures. I'd love to see photos of every room they've filmed. But then, I'm just a little obsessed. For the casual viewer, it's probably plenty of information. Me, I'd better get back to my own endless renovation and redecoration labours. God knows I could use some help around here, though. I wonder just what Ellen Totleben's hourly rate would work out to in Canadian dollars?