Latest news with #Benedictine
.jpeg%3Fwidth%3D1200%26auto%3Dwebp%26quality%3D75&w=3840&q=100)
Evening Standard
5 days ago
- Evening Standard
Laqua by the Lake: modernist aparthotel floating above Italy's least discovered lake
You can even hire one of the hotel's electric boats (from €100 an hour) to take a leisurely tour of the lake and take a closer look at the Isola San Giulio with its Benedictine monastery – the dragon infestation having been sorted by St Julius in the Middle Ages, so legend has it.
Hospitality Net
5 days ago
- Business
- Hospitality Net
What Hotels Could Learn from Monks
A Journey to the Abbey Somewhere along I-94, just less than two hours northwest of Minneapolis/St. Paul, amid Minnesota's rolling farmlands, spread across twenty-six acres of land adjacent to Lake Sagatagan, sits St. John's Abbey. Arriving in late March with sideways snow, not much, but enough to know you were in Minnesota—driving into the Abbey along a sweeping drive, the emergence of the Abbey Church is startling. Contemplation of brutalist architecture has had a reexamination due to a recent Oscar-winning film. But nothing could prepare you for the gargantuan cement testament to faith Marcel Breuer conceived in the 1950s. A 'Bell Banner' with many bells, peals for prayer three times a day. There is no mistaking it. Gorgeous, beckoning as its intention and raw in its testament. A Hotel Hidden Within a Monastery My mission was to help the Brothers, Benedictine Monks all, improve the hotel's sales performance of a gorgeous, spare, thirty room jewel box called, 'Guest House', of St. John's Abbey. I am not Catholic. I might best be described as a failed Episcopalian. But none of that matters. What mattered is that my host, Brother Benedict, needed to turn a profit, at least a modest one. Brother Benedict was my employer, my guide, my inspiration. His is a difficult task; lead a Benedictine Monastery, curate a remarkable collection of creative Monks, and make payroll. Added to this, every day, no matter what befalls him, he stops three formal times a day: and prays. Every day. Today there are 90 men who comprise the Monks of St. John's Abbey, in 1950 there were 450. The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune are well documented about the Catholic Church. The fact that a Conclave begins tomorrow is no small matter either. But, back to Brother Benedict. A man with a twinkle in his eye and faith in his heart. The critical skills of running a charitable, endowment leveraged, joyful expression of monastic artists who produce Church pipe organs, milled from lumber they harvest on property built over three years at a selling price of three million dollars with minimal margin, or pottery that rivals the world's best in class, or St. John's Bibles of gargantuan size lovingly scripted and illustrated complete bibles, or curating a library repository of the worlds Benedictine aspirations—is no small feat. He also has to run a hotel. A Jewel Box of Hospitality With Brother Isidore (A GM we would call him), they do that spectacularly. I call it a jewel box because it is. The Guest House is spare in all furnishing, Scandinavian perhaps, but Japanese in its simplicity and accents of glass, carved blocks and windows prominent to let all the light refract as it will. The rooms are spare, designed for solitude and contemplation. No TVs. I didn't miss it once in my three days. And a massive window dominates the wall facing their wonderful lake. After fourteen years of 'original equipment' (no renovations), the property is immaculate. This is a property running close to 60% annually, and 100% in peak season. — Source: Cayuga Hospitality Consultants The food was delicious. The staff attendant. The genuine hospitality evident. Yet the world is a tricky place when you minister to the poor, the downtrodden, the seekers, who at times cannot pay, who need a hand. It's a fact of Benedictine service: you give comps. You have to, it is what you do. Serving Guests, Serving Souls The financial reality says, 'Ah, within reason…' So, on the culminating moment of the last day; six men, dressed in monastic robes, sat before me and my flip charts. With a little tweaking, it was clear St. John's Abbey Guest House will be fine, and profitable. Brother Benedict, at my request, on a slick, snowy Minnesota afternoon took the wheel and toured me through St. Jo's and the local hotel competition, the adjacent St. John's University and St. Benedict's College (for women), and some of the local fare of restaurants, it looked like Ann Arbor. With a whimsical smile of a man, 'in this world, but not of it', Br. Benedict would chuckle at my typical routine of getting young desk clerks to tell me more than they should about rates, best clients, and ADR. 'You sure see many things I would have no idea to look for!' I suppose so. Learnings from Monastic Life What I saw in Br. Benedict was faith in action, financial realities, and an openness to the world, oftentimes the cause of his profession. His gentle brilliance is that he takes it all in and judges none, laughs out loud at goofy consultants, and saves souls with nowhere else to turn. I share what hotels can learn: Contemplating what is happening three times a day is a good thing. Faith is a matter for each to their own. Striving for perfection is a journey, even if never reached. Laughing at the absurdities of our world, even Monks do it! Discipline is its own reward. A profit, even if a small one, makes the mission—possible. As I stepped to my rental car, escorted by Brother Benedict, he offered, 'Do you think I could call you? Especially if I get stuck on something about hotels, I just don't understand?' Sure, anytime. No charge. — Source: Cayuga Hospitality Consultants View source
Irish Independent
23-05-2025
- Business
- Irish Independent
How design duo behind Kylemore Abbey refit decorated their own home in Offaly
Asking price: €500,000 Agent: DNG Kelly Duncan (057) 9325050 Every creative dreams of the day the phone chirrups to the tune of a fantasy gig. Brendan Treacy and Joe Kirby, interior designers and co-proprietors of Dublin-based Silver River Interiors, can count themselves among that lucky cohort. They were contacted by the sisters in residence at Kylemore Abbey, the magnificent Benedictine monastery in Connemara; who hired them to do the fit-out for their new contemporary accommodation at the Abbey, during the recent redevelopment of the famous nunnery and national tourist attraction. 'So we did the full interior fit-out for the nuns down there,' Treacy says. 'It was amazing. That was huge because it's just the two of us, myself and Joe, involved. The project is still ongoing. "The nuns have been incredible to work with. There were a vast amount ducks to get in line and get past them, as the nuns needed to be in their new home at a certain time on a certain day. And, as is often the case, we didn't have as long as we thought we would need to do the job, but we got it done.' Kirby, for his part at least, had some very appropriate credentials on his resumé, having spent time as a member of the Christian Brothers. 'He was familiar with this type of community in terms of how they live day-to-day, how they have their meals and how they share their community spaces,' Treacy says. When the pair initially met with the nuns, they bonded really quickly because the two felt they understood what the sisters wanted. Treacy says: 'I suppose we weren't just shoving chairs and fabrics down their throats, but actually listening to how they live, which is what we do with all our clients. Except in this case, it was 16 different women.' ADVERTISEMENT Kirby adds: 'Sister Magdalena could run the country. They really knew what they wanted, and we are really proud of how it turned out in the end. They were so excited because quite a few of them had never seen the inside of the place until the day they moved in. Now it has a lovely calm feeling about it.' Treacy has a background in the hotel business where he developed his interest in interior design, completing a one-day per week two-year course at the Dublin Institute of Design on Suffolk Street. The two are mainly influenced by the work of William Morris and take inspiration from places they visit, preferring that to the more modern influences of social media. Treacy says: 'We visited Winston Churchill's home at Chartwell recently and were very impressed. We don't have a formula, as is the case with some interior designers. We prefer to see how the client lives.' He began working from home at first, before he and Kirby decided to open a showroom in Tullamore and then a second in Dublin in the early 2000s – until, as Treacy puts it, 'the world ended' after the collapse of the Celtic Tiger. Their business survived, however, and has gone from strength to strength. The pair mainly work with private clients, and tend to design in a classical style. Treacy and Kirby's own home in Tullamore could double as an additional showroom. From the outside, it is a relatively plain-looking detached house on 0.6 acres, located about 10 minutes from Tullamore town. The only sign from the outside that it may belong to someone with an eye for design is a wire sculpture of a pair of red-setters, Billy and Pauline, guarding the front door. It has a hallway behind the teak front door with glazed side panels, floored in polished marble tiles. There is decorative wall panelling and intricate ceiling coving. Off this is a sitting room with walnut timber flooring, and a polished marble fireplace with a cast iron insert and a black granite hearth. This room is decorated with dark brown wallpaper, offset with colourful velour sofas. Treacy says: 'This room is one of the darkest in our house. So we made it dark and moody by using the textured wallpaper, then following down with the deeper colour sofas.' Glass-panelled doors from the sitting room lead to the kitchen/dining area, which also has polished marble floors. The kitchen is bespoke and was designed by Dermot Bracken, with quartz countertops and a large centre island. There is a solid fuel stove on a marble plinth. Integrated appliances include a hob with feature extractor fan, double oven, dishwasher and a hidden pantry with additional worktop space and storage. There is also a utility with fitted storage, additional countertop space and a second dishwasher. One of the bedrooms is located on the ground floor, which was a boon for Kirby on account of his parents who visit. This has an en suite bathroom, and there is also a guest WC on the ground floor. Upstairs has an additional five bedrooms, including a master suite with a walk-in dressing room/wardrobe and en suite bathroom and a luxurious family bathroom. There is also a detached garage of approximately 270sq ft. Outside to the rear, is a recently completed patio area with raised flowerbeds and uplighters set into the ground for evening entertaining outside. The pair bought a home in Dublin 8 about 11 years ago, close to the city centre, and are now keen to relocate to the capital full-time. 'We have been here for 20 years,' says Kirby. 'It was a great party house and has a lovely atmosphere, and was really convenient when we had the business down there. But we just don't spend enough time there anymore.' DNG Kelly Duncan is seeking offers in the region of €500,000.
Miami Herald
20-05-2025
- Miami Herald
How Opatija became Croatia's ‘Vienna of the Adriatic'
OPATIJA, Croatia - Liliana Stipanić briefly thinks about how to answer the question: Why should you visit Opatija? Then it flows out of her: "It's the flair from the time of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. You really feel like royalty here when you look at the old villas, feel the atmosphere, the serenity of the people." Stipanić is a city guide. She also takes day trippers through the Kvarner Gulf to the port and market town of Rijeka. But it's in Opatija that she knows every stone and every detail from history, which began in the Middle Ages with a Benedictine abbey. Saint Jacob's church now stands on the same spot, a reminder of Opatija's beginnings. The nobility paved the way for tourism, which really took off in 1889 after the imperial government officially declared Opatija the first climatic seaside resort on the Austrian riviera. "The air and sea" were decisive, says Stipanić, not any thermal springs. The mild climate is due to the Učka mountain range, shielding Opatija from the land side and protecting it from winds from the west. A playground for high society "Opatija was the second-largest spa town Austria-Hungary, only surpassed by Karlovy Vary," says Stipanić. The town became a playground for high society and was labeled "Vienna by the sea," "Queen of the Adriatic" and "Vienna's bathtub." An influx of tourism began when Opatija was connected to the nearby railway network. Historic villas, the 12-kilometer Lungomare promenade and the Maiden with the Seagull statue are among the symbols of Opatija. Holly bushes cast their shadows on golden walls, while bougainvillea, aleander and magnolias bloom at every corner. Murals in the city park commemorate prominent guests such as composer Gustav Mahler, writer James Joyce, scientist Albert Einstein and Hollywood star Kirk Douglas. Early "marketing ambassadors," as tour guide Stipanić calls them, were Crown Princess Stephanie and Crown Prince Rudolf, "then everyone followed". The locals, on the other hand, became second-class citizens - which somewhat damages the myth of Opatija. Enjoying the promenade When the Lungomare promenade was planned, there were "conflicts with the fishermen who laid out their nets to dry" in the suburb of Volosko, where Stipanić comes from. Also, spa guests complained when the locals swam naked or in their underwear, she says. These days on the waterfront, you can sit back and relax with a cocktail at the harbour and watch the yachts come in. In the time-honored Wagner coffee house, the waiters cultivate elegance with white shirts and black bow ties. The cultural destination in the upper town is the neo-Romanesque Church of the Annunciation. Inside, spanned by a green dome, light domes stand in the chancel, flooding the sun's rays through stained glass windows. Trip to Kastav Away from the coast, take a beautiful excursion to Kastav. From here, Opatija lies at your feet. The view sweeps as far as the islands of Cres and Krk and through the green mountains. The idyllic town center breathes history, with stone town walls, alleyways and a portico. The ruins of the Jesuit church occasionally serve as an open-air theatre. There are pubs that seem to invite you to take a break. In the Plovanić winery, Dejan Rubesa recounts his unusual career, starting out as a lawyer in the civil service. Later, he opted for early retirement and became a professional winemaker, eager to showcase local Belica wines, which have long produced for home consumption but never really appreciated beyond that. Underground winemaking The Belica is a blend of five grape varieties, three of which are native. Inventor Rubesa started experiments that his 29-year-old daughter, Andreja, who helps out in the winery, affectionately calls "crazy ideas." One involved importing huge, handmade clay amphorae from Georgia and burying them in the ground behind the winery to age grape juice in. After eight months of underground storage, the wine matures for a year in Croatian oak barrels. The result is a wine with an orange color, deeply aromatic, full-bodied and unique. That is just one more good reason to visit Opatija and its environs. _____ Copyright (C) 2025, Tribune Content Agency, LLC. Portions copyrighted by the respective providers.
Irish Examiner
16-05-2025
- General
- Irish Examiner
Author interview: From Alaska to Afghanistan, and the Marines to a PhD in writing
To say that Christopher Bryde has lived a life less ordinary doesn't really come close to the truth. Born in 1988, he grew up on the Kenai Peninsula in Alaska, which 'at the time, probably had more bears and wolves than people. Maybe still does'. He trained for a time to be a monk, but ended up joining the US Marines. Deployed to Afghanistan, he lost both legs below the knee due to wounds sustained from a Taliban IED. He recently published an unforgettable first novel, Upgunner, based on his war experiences, and is now pursuing a PhD in Creative Writing at St Mary's University in Twickenham. He is also an athlete and recently went home from the Invictus games in Vancouver with medals for sit ski and wheelchair rugby. 'My unit, the 2/7, has the worst suicide problem of any military unit in the States. 'A bunch of us was trying to throw together reunions and do stuff to motivate the guys who were struggling, and I thought I could just set an example.' I'm more fucked up than most of them, at least physically. And it seemed to work. Christopher is the first Alaskan I've met. Life in that far-flung territory was life stripped back to its essentials: 'The winters are so harsh, and the environment is so deadly,' he tells me. 'There weren't that many problems to deal with, apart from … you've just got to survive.' Survival chased out most other concerns, including politics. On going to live in the 'Lower 48' — a colloquial term for the US minus Alaska and Hawaii — Bryde was surprised not only by the number of children who couldn't fish — he had been fishing since an early age to help store up food for the winter — but by 'the whole polarising political thing. I rarely heard about politics in Alaska'. In his teens, Christopher briefly went to a Benedictine seminary in Canada: 'I actually very much would have liked to be a monk, but I felt like that wasn't my vocation.' So when and how, then, did the idea of becoming a Marine enter his head? I finished out my last couple of years of high school in Portland, Oregon. When I was there I knew I wanted to join the military. 'It was not American patriotism that made me want to go, or the whole 9/11 thing, or anything like that. It was more like I saw that I was able to do it. I also thought it would be good for me. 'I remember looking around, seeing a lot of the other young men my age, and I thought these are a bunch of losers. 'I don't want to be one of them. Growing up in Alaska and then seeing the average American is just, you know … ' Christopher's words trail off as he shakes his head. Initially, Bryde told his uncle, an ex-Marine, that he wanted to join the army infantry, 'because I thought it would be the toughest'. 'I'd be on the frontline and I'd really prove myself. He told me that, if you want the toughest, you should join the Marines and have the bragging rights forever. 'You get sent these propaganda pamphlets in the mail. Unlike the army recruiters who are begging you to come, the Marines asked you why you deserved to be a Marine. 'I just told them the same thing: I don't want to be one of those guys. I wanted to have the honour of service and all that.' Is this where the attraction to being a monk and to being a Marine meet? In this notion of the honour of service? Yeah, definitely. Frankly, aside from some of the less pleasant things that happen in the Marine corps, it's actually quite a similar life. 'It's very regimented. You wake up early at the same times. The same sort of duties. A little different, but, you know…' Christopher has a softly spoken, understated demeanour, and may be understating things here. In the novel, when the central character Brodie meets his team leader for the first time, he is asked whether he is ready to die for the Marine corps. His assent causes an explosion: 'Fuck that, Boot! Die and fuck over your Marines? Don't fuck up and don't fucking die!' A lot of Upgunner is in dialogue form with a maimed and hospitalised Brodie conversing with an Anglican chaplain, a Catholic priest (his confessor), and a despised psychotherapist. Yet according to Christopher, 'I've always hated dialogue. I hate writing it. I hate reading it. And, unless it's the right person, I don't really like talking to people, honestly.' But his creative writing MA workshops led him to see the value dialogue could have in telling the story he wished to tell. Being part of a 'death cult' Upgunner shows us a man estranged from home and family, with a religiously formed conscience and intellect, in pursuit of violence, honour, and glory in an organisation utterly devoted to fighting and killing, a 'death cult'. One chapter records an incident where Brodie resists a command to fire at an approaching truck because he correctly senses something is not quite right. Like much of the book, it is based on real life: 'These kinds of things happen all the time, where you technically should kill someone, but you know that they don't know what's going on, or they're being stupid, or they've already been checked, or something like that. 'On the one hand, you've done the right thing. But, on the other hand, now you have some of your guys being like 'Oh, you're a pussy, you should have done it anyways'.' The novel will convince you in new and horrifying ways that war is, indeed, hell — and that the Afghan war was its own peculiar form of hell. But Bryde recounted for me at least one event of a different order. 'Once, way, way out into the mountains, we found a few mud huts. This guy came out. He had only one cow and he was trying to offer to slaughter the cow to give it to us. 'He kept trying to offer us stuff, even though he clearly had nothing. That's their culture, the Pashtun Malik culture, that dates back way before the Taliban, way before Islam even.' Becoming a writer was not always on the cards for Bryde. As our conversation drew to a close, he recalled how he discovered literature in the first place, unknowingly embarking on the journey that would see him become a writer. 'Until we moved down to the Lower 48 when I was around 14, I could only read at, I don't know, eight-year-old capacity.' Things changed when his aunt read The Hobbit to him, making him want to read The Lord of the Rings in turn. Tolkien 'largely motivated me to learn to read, frankly'. Christopher travelled once to Oxford to visit the pub where his hero drank pints with CS Lewis and their friends, the Tolkien family home, and then his graveside. 'I don't cry. I'm a pretty hard person. But it actually brought me to tears, seeing his house and walking over to the grave. 'All those memories came back. I had not thought about it that way before then, that he basically turned me into a reader. And also, potentially, a writer.'
