Written by James Harrigfeld

The story of the Colony Arts Center is, as many stories are, a smaller part of a larger story. 

The larger story centers on Overlook Mountain, which rises above the small Hamlet of Woodstock in upstate New York.  Its majestic vistas and scenic splendor has always suggested the perfect spot for a  perfect hotel. The first Overlook Mountain House was completed in 1871 only to burn down in 1878. A new and larger hotel was built on the same site.  This one went through several owners and various degrees of success, but was nearly defunct when acquired by Morris Newgold in early 1917.  Morris owned a couple of hotels in New York City and brought with him a great deal of expertise and experience. He made grand improvements and, in spite of WW 1, was doing quite well. Then, in 1924, again, it burned to the ground.  Undaunted and re-inspired Morris set off to build an even bigger and grander hotel, one made of concrete, and stone, and steel that would not burn.  It would occupy the remaining 12 years of his life and employ most of the able-bodied men in the Woodstock area……

But this is where our story starts. Morris decided to build another smaller hotel down in the Hamlet.  It would serve as a staging area and a stopover point for guests coming up the river by boat or train.  Guests would spend the night and eat in its fine restaurant before making the arduous trip up the mountain. Gerald Betz of Kingston was selected as the architect and the building he designed is both unique and wonderful. (Why he chose Moorish architecture is still a mystery).   The walls fit snug to the property lines to form a parallelogram instead of a rectangle and the resulting angles (inside and out) offer up many subtle surprises. Construction began in 1927 and, in a small town built of wood and nails, there arose a three-story giant of bricks and stucco.  It is still the tallest and biggest building in Woodstock, and hopefully, always will be.  The story goes that Ralph Shultis  had to be called down from the mountain because nobody could figure out how to set the huge steel beams in place. Wrought iron window boxes, interior trim and braces were all hand made by Henry Peper, a local blacksmith at the time.  The workers roster rang with names like Wolven, Harder, Lasher, Lapo, Schoonmaker, Longendyke and Stoutenburgh. The interior is a tribute to early woodworking techniques with hand-hewn chestnut beams and girders and hand-built maple doors.  The “Colony Hotel” opened the summer of 1929 just months before the stock market crash.   It was run by Morris’ son Gabriel and was in full operation during all of the 1930’s.  Its basement was home to the first cafeteria in the Mid-Hudson Valley.  In the back, behind the kitchen, is a huge Duchess brick oven, which supplied much of the bread and pastries to the town during that period.  Big bands and orchestras came from all over to play in the “Great” room.

And then….

Morris Newgold died in 1940 at the same time WW II was looming large.  Work stopped on the mountain and everything was boarded up tight.  Shortly after, the Colony Hotel closed its doors and everyone left for the war.  When Bill Newgold (Morris’ grandson) returned in 1945 he found the Mountain House in total shambles.  Vandals and thieves had stolen everything that could possibly be removed and weather had done the rest.  The ruins are still there till this day.  It was devastating to all of the Newgolds.  Bill kept the hotel on Rock City Road but he never reopened it to its former glory.  He became an avid art and antiques dealer and during the next 15 years he often opened the doors for an art show or antiques fair or occasional musical event and the place became known as the Colony Arts Center.  In 1961 even that stopped, and for the next 40 years the building simply sat empty.  There was a brief spike around 1983 when Bill teamed with two partners to reopen it as a restaurant/hotel again.  Some good work was done, including a new furnace, new electric, and a new septic system, but the partnership broke up and the doors closed before they had opened. Again the building sat dark and empty.  In 1988 love entered Bill’s life and he married an artist named Juanita Guiccione. Unfortunately it was short lived as a year later he died. The  building was left to Jaunita and she continued the tradition of  keeping it empty.   There were numerous attempts to buy the place over the ensuing years but nothing ever went through.  In 1996 she held a large auction and sold most of the antiques and furnishings. The building sat emptier then ever. 

In December of 1999, Jaunita died and ownership passed to her son Del Marbrook. He had already been responsible for much of the care and maintenance in the preceding years and he made the decision to fix it up a bit with the possibility of selling.   We happened to drive by in early January and noticed some work going on and, on a whim, Mariann stopped by the next day.  One thing led to another, and, in June of 2000, we became the new owners.  This chapter of the story is probably best told by someone else.  Suffice it to say that it has been a great struggle and unbelievably heartwarming adventure.  Our little town government has thrown up every obstacle imaginable but we finally got part of the building open.  Musicians and artists and poets have come out of the woodwork to help out

(If you know anything about the history of this building, please let us know.  Much is still unknown and much of what we do know is still cloudy.  We have only a  few pictures of the very early days.   And, of course, if you know the whereabouts of any of the original furnishings??……)