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Renaissance in pink . . .

AT Mangrove Bay stands the 'Taj Mahal', or at least that is what some called the old Trimingham's store. Recently it has been undergoing a renaissance, a rebirth, and to the amazement of many it has been reborn in pink, the delightful old-fashioned and time-tested Bermuda pink.

This is the colour that is mirrored in the long blooming oleander, the perennial periwinkle and the pink sands of the south shore. This is the gentle colour of the rainbow that was once pictorially synonymous with Bermuda, through the spectra of house paint, oleander and hibiscus and the grains of broken shells that compose the local sands.

Pink was, and is, good. Perhaps the new Taj signals a renaissance in pink, a rebirth of one facet of heritage maintenance that once contributed greatly to the charm of this most artificial of island paradises.

It is unclear when 'pink is beautiful' came to the fore in these islands. The early masonry buildings would have been white, as in painted with whitewash, which is limewash, a protective coating thousands of years old. Colouring can be added to limewash and one sometimes used was red ochre, which could produce a deep red tint.

Limewashes also produce lovely pastel colouring when pigments are added. There is some evidence that the first forts at Bermuda were painted with red ochre and there are some houses that are adorned with modern versions of the colour. Red ochre was also used as a preservative for sails and that is why red sails can often been seen in period oil paintings.

It seems that some colours for wall paints were introduced at Bermuda in the late 1700s, according to the important book published by the Department of Planning and the Bermuda National Trust in 2002.

The Traditional Building Guide: Advice for Preserving Bermuda's Architectural Heritage gives more details on those paints and also on the invaluable quality of limewash, which breathes and allows moisture and dampness to escape from the wall itself. Modern latex paints do not breathe and therefore seal in moisture. In Bermuda stone walls such paints decay the masonry by trapping the dampness within.

But it seems to be that most houses were not coloured, as noted by the Victorian author and traveller Anthony Trollope in the 1860s: Every house is white, from the ground up to the very point of the roof. Nothing is in so great demand as whitewash. They whitewash their houses incessantly, and always include the roofs.

The advent of pink and other pastel colours in limewashes is likely a late Victorian or Edwardian feature of the Bermuda landscape and was probably a reaction to the pleasing nature of such colours for visitors.

Whatever the origin or timing, the pre-sunglasses harshness of white was replaced by the gentle pastel hues that added much to Bermuda's reputation as the 'isles of rest', for the life-weary as well as the eye-weary, one might say.

Modern synthetic paints make it possible to have any colour of the spectrum, but many have a harsh finish in contrast to limewashes. Such 'bright' pigments are sometimes unfortunately referred to as 'West Indian colours', being a first point of comparison for some who view these paints as foreign to the Bermuda cultural landscape.

That they are viewed as invasive, like Mexican peppers and casuarinas, is a natural reaction of those who wish to preserve what has come to make Bermuda a unique landscape.

The landscape ambience produced by the change from white to coloured limewashes is perhaps nowhere more poignantly illustrated than in the watercolour paintings of Ernest C. Riedel, who produced a guidebook in 1928 for the Furness Bermuda Line.

IN A Pictorial Guide to Bermuda, Riedel paints, in words and pigments, his impressions of 'the bright colourful gem of the Atlantic'. These included the built heritage, as well as the natural environment, and he had a soft spot for the 'bright green streak . . . the first memorable impression of Bermuda's brilliantly clear water' in the shallows off Spanish Point. Appropriately, the first image in the guide is his gloomy painting of the lower Manhattan skyline, entitled 'Leaving the gray city and turmoil behind'.

The guide included a map of Bermuda with the roads that he considered to border 'scenic beauties' outlined in red. A description of the new MS Bermuda ('a veritable mechanical isle of beauty') and the older SS Fort Victoria suggests that the journey to 'paradise itself' began on those well-appointed ships.

Once here one would be entranced by the quiet, the friendliness of the people, the charm of the buildings and byways, and the beauty of natural scenes. Riedel captures some of these impressions in thirty-odd paintings, the dominant features of which are the pastel hues that had become the successful tourism colours of the day. The paintings are as charming today as were once the landscapes Riedel captured as an artist and lover of our island home.

Turmoil has followed the wakes of ships to Bermuda, like sharks that used to follow their trails of garbage. Some of it, especially noise on the roads and seas, could be controlled quite easily. Other disquiets are facets of modern life, not easily solved if ever.

We can, however, given good planning regulations, better control the look of the place, as regards the painting of buildings, to preserve the outward pastel appearance that have served us so well for over a century of tourism.

Pink and pastel paints are Bermuda heritage and good for the sustainable tourism maintenance of this paradise itself. So congratulations to the owners of the old Trimingham's store in the western reaches at Mangrove Bay for daring to paint anew in one of the great Bermuda colours of old.