WEST CORNWALL — Construction is well underway for the Little Guild’s new 7,000-square-foot animal shelter at 285 Sharon-Goshen Tpke. (Route 128).
The new facility will help the Little Guild continue to rescue homeless cats and dogs by adding quarantining capabilities, modern air ventilation, soundproofing, a community room for free vaccination clinics, and spacious play areas for the animals.
For Executive Director Jenny Langendoerfer, who lives in Norfolk, this is the fruition of a longtime dream.
“We are incredibly grateful for the fantastic community support that allowed a new animal shelter for the Little Guild to happen. It will make a tremendous difference to the animals we care for and the community we serve,” said Landendoerfer.
The mission of the Little Guild is to rescue, love, and heal homeless cats and dogs and help them find homes. Founded in 1957 by Muriel Alvord Ward and Eleanora Kleinschmidt, Little Guild is now the largest no-kill animal shelter in northwest Connecticut. The 501(c) 3 organization boasts a 97% save rate, one of the highest in the nation.
The Little Guild raised more than $3,750,000 to build the new facility, which will be named in honor of Robert R. Rosenheim and is expected to be completed by November 2025. The Robert R. Rosenheim Foundation, based in Bristol, provided “abundant support” for the Little Guild’s construction efforts.
“We are honored to be part of Mr. Rosenheim’s legacy of love for animals,” said Langendoerfer. “The new facility will allow us to aid more animals and pet owners in the community. The calm and healing environment, quarantine capabilities, plus designated areas for adopters and volunteers to meet and socialize with the animals, will have a major impact, decreasing the length of stay and increasing the number of animals we can help.”
Michael DeBarba, certified dog trainer at the Little Guild, hugging Danica, a one-year old available rescue dog. “I am excited to help as many dogs and people as I can.”Jennifer Almquist
Justin Giampaolo, president and project executive for Burlington Construction oversees the project. Burlington Construction began working with the Little Guild four years ago.
Giampaolo, who expressed his love for animals, stood on the slab of concrete that stretched like a soccer field behind him, folded his arms and explained, “We began the site work late summer. We did all the underground plumbing and poured the slab. The insulated metal panelized building and roof panels have been ordered.”
“Erecting the facility will take about a month, then we start on interior walls and wiring. There will be a chain link fence that runs the perimeter, and each of the dog pads have their own areas, so that all the dogs have their own space,” said Giampaolo.
Chief Architect Christopher Nardi, principal of Silver Petrucelli & Associates, in Hamden, specializes in animal shelter design.
The Little Guild runs an on-site community pet pantry, offering free pet food and supplies to those in need. According to Langendoerfer, “The demand has increased in the last six months and through the generosity of the Northwest CT Community Foundation, we have expanded the program throughout Litchfield County with monthly events in Torrington, Sharon, Canaan, and Winsted.”
A new initiative, the Lasey Fund, is named after a benefactor’s beloved dog who serendipitously loved going to the veterinarian. The fund provides financial assistance for veterinary care to eligible Litchfield County residents. Langendoerfer explained, “You qualify if you’re getting state assistance. We can help with payments for a pet’s big surgery, or can help defray the cost of spaying, neutering, health checks, or dental work. Our director of development Priscilla McCord, of Lakeville, was the catalyst for establishing this fund.”
The Little Guild’s Great Country Mutt Show will be held rain or shine on Sunday, June 8, from 11 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. at Lime Rock Park in Lakeville. This Westminster-style show is free and “celebrates all breeds and creeds — purebred dogs are welcome too.”
Scot Haney from Channel 3 and Richard Schlesinger from “48 Hours” will be on hand June 8 with famed animal trainer Bill Berloni as one of the judges.
Dogs participate in categories such as: Junior (humans under age 12) Most Unidentifiable Mix, Sweetest Pair of Dogs, Best Ears, Best Trick, Best Lap Dog Over 40 lbs, Best Senior, Best Kisser, and Waggiest Tail.
The Edgewood Restaurant, a beloved Amenia roadside restaurant run by George and Anne Phillips, pictured during its peak years in the 1950s and ’60s.
It began as a former gas station and tavern called The Narrows, on the road to Sharon, around a switchback east of Troutbeck. It became a roadhouse restaurant for weddings, bar mitzvahs, proms, graduations, birthdays and holidays with relatives. At Easter, New Year’s and Christmas, George and Anne served the food free — customers only paid for drinks as a thank-you for another good year.
It was a different time. Amenia was an isolated dairy farming community, and two large state psychiatric hospitals employed 4,000 potential diners. People needed a friendly neighborhood restaurant run by a local couple who knew everybody. They offered special-occasion favorites: fried chicken, meatloaf, sliced turkey with gravy, pork chops from nearby farms, and fresh white bread baked at 4 a.m. by George.
There was no maître d’. Waitresses, many still teenagers, greeted guests and helped them find a table. Cloth napkins and sturdy white plates sat in a knotty pine dining room that felt more like a family home than a formal restaurant. Large tables down the center accommodated families. George and Anne fed the staff before opening, and everyone ate the same meals served to customers. Everything was homemade classics of the 1950s and ’60s: cold shrimp and cocktail sauce, stuffed mushrooms, veal parmesan, King crab, clams and oysters on the half shell, chopped hamburger steak, French onion soup, fried chicken and pumpkin pie.
George was a tough but fair boss with a quirky sense of humor. Former employee Kevin Rooney, who worked there as a teenager, recalled being served a hot fudge sundae on a sweltering day — only to discover the “ice cream” was Crisco. Revenge came later in the form of a Coke spiked with Tabasco sauce.
George also kept a series of German shepherds — Rinny, Schultz and Dooley — named after a Jonathan Winters routine featuring talking beer steins. The dogs were locked inside at night for security. Tony Robert, another former employee, remembered coming in one day to find Schultz with the seat of someone’s pants in her jaws. When kids tried to sneak into a dance through the bathroom window after the fire marshal had closed the overcrowded place, George put Rinny in the restroom. Problem solved.
Anne also ran a no-nonsense operation. She marked liquor bottles at night so no one would sneak a drink, though the cleanup crew found ways around it, sipping the blackberry liquer instead. Along with cooking and baking everything from scratch, she raised their children in a life closely tied to the restaurant. The bus dropped their daughters off there after school, and one recalled doing homework while the family spent more time in the restaurant than in their nearby home.
George Phillips bakes fresh bread in the early morning hours at the Edgewood Restaurant.Provided
After 23 years of long hours — often more than 100 a week — George began stepping back, at times closing the restaurant to recover. He later moved into real estate and Anne opened a successful craft store.
George sold the place in 1972. At one point, it became a lively beer joint and concert venue, featuring local bands, such as Random Concept, Little Village and Good Friend Coyote. When New York lowered its drinking age to 18 — while it remained 21 just across the state line — it drew crowds from Connecticut. Locals called them “Connecticut Rags,” kids with fancy cars who came to dance, drink and sometimes fight, rocking the floors so hard they bounced like a trampoline and shook dust from the rafters.
At closing time, they had to dodge police waiting across the state line. Sometimes Jack Rooney, Kevin’s father and the bartender, drove them home. One morning, Betty Rooney got a call from a worried mother asking if her son was there. “If he’s wearing red tennis shoes,” she said, “he’s asleep on my front lawn.”
The Edgewood also drew actors from the Sharon Playhouse and notable visitors, including Paul Newman, Cole Porter and even Supreme Court justices. George showed silent movies on a sheet in the dining room, and guests could dance to the Les Schulman Orchestra or to George and his brothers, who had their own band.
It served as a gathering place for groups such as the Eastern Artificial Insemination Cooperative and for events like the Knights of Columbus Communion breakfast. Families marked milestones there — including one that celebrated five birthdays at a Palm Sunday brunch in 1970.
Christmas dinner cost $3 and included stuffed olives, roast pig, prime rib, Virginia ham, deep-sea scallops, Long Island duck, creamed onions and, of course, crème de menthe parfait. On New Year’s Eve 1959, dinner was $15 a couple — $7.50 each for all the champagne you could drink.
The venue came to an end when the building burned to the ground in 1985.
The building is gone, but not the memories — the laughter, the music, the meals, and George carving steaks by hand. He lived a century, but the Edgewood, for those who knew it, was timeless.
Next time you’re driving to Sharon and pass the empty, weedy lot with a rusty electric meter, imagine calling George’s old number to make a reservation for a place that lives on in memory.
Minimalist works by Agnes Martin on display at Dia:Beacon.
Martin, the Canadian-born New York and New Mexico resident who died in 2004, made the kind of ambiguous abstract art that inspires countless imitators and interpreters.
At first glance, most of the pieces in the new show, “Painting Is Not the Act of Painting,” (on display until June 22) are variations on simple lines and grids painstakingly applied by the artist’s own hand using paint and pencil.
Despite their relative simplicity, it took Martin years of rejecting her own artwork to reach this level of pure abstraction. She would often take knives to paintings she didn’t like, literally slashing work that didn’t live up to her expectations. It wasn’t until she was in her 50s that she began making the work she would become known for.
That evolution is reflected in the exhibition’s 24 works.
Dia:Beacon seems like a perfect place for them. The museum is a monument to simplicity. Even the most complicated pieces are abstractions in their own ways. A straight, unpainted plywood wall with diagonal backing by Donald Judd suggests a room under construction. Michael Heizer’s singular ovoid boulder embedded into a gallery wall strikes unease into visitors.
Subtle grids and softly layered lines by Agnes Martin draw the eye at Dia:BeaconD.H. Callahan
Martin’s pieces feel at home here. In the context of such visual, if not conceptual, simplicity, her art seems louder than it might in almost any other setting. Faint blue and peach stripes gain vibrancy when compared with the all-white canvases of Robert Ryman or the large gray mirrors of Gerhard Richter, both a few rooms away. By comparison, the visibly human-drawn lines of pencil or etched-out paint seem almost complicated, and technically masterful.
It’s enough to make you ponder the name of the exhibition, “Painting Is Not the Act of Painting,” pulled from a quote by Martin: “Painting is not making paintings; it is a development of awareness. And with this awareness, your work changes, but very slowly.”
In a world where studio assistants and fabricators contribute to the output of many artists, Martin relished the act of painting. She painted nearly every day of her adult life. For her, the process was an integral part of the work, and it’s hard to look at these pieces without appreciating her hand.
This repetitive study is also demonstrated across the hall in a gallery dedicated to a single work by Andy Warhol. The piece, “Shadows,” is a study of variations on a single subject. Warhol took photos of shadows in his office and, using a silkscreen process, painted them 102 times on identically sized canvases.
Walking into the room, it may seem like the same image repeated. On closer inspection, the canvases vary widely in color and composition. The work suggests that repetition can produce unexpected forms.
Agnes Martin has become enshrined as one of the leaders of the minimalist movement of the 1960s and ’70s. Her work and artistic philosophies have inspired countless admirers. This exhibition displays a selection of important pieces from nearly 50 years of practice.
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