A ladder generally comes with an assignment: Clean the gutters. Paint the ceiling. Eileen Power’s ladders have relieved themselves of these responsibilities. Suspended between trees, they zigzag through the woods like a staircase designed by someone with celestial ambitions and a questionable understanding of building codes.
The Flying Trapeze, installed at this fall’s Kingston Design Showhouse in Saugerties, is about trust. Power was thinking of trapeze artists: the moment one releases the swing, counting on another person to catch them. “I wondered whether it would be possible to evoke the enormity of that trust in a sculpture,” she says.
Making it required some trust of her own. Power had collected three apple ladders, ranging from 16 to 18 feet long, but lacked suitable trees on her property. Over tea, she mentioned the idea to Amanda Russo Rubman, who had just been asked to curate the showhouse’s sculpture garden. Soon they were walking the grounds, plotting.
That exchange captures something essential about the enterprise Maryline Damour founded in 2018. Conceived as a one-time gathering to connect the Hudson Valley’s designers, makers, artists, and suppliers, Kingston Design Showhouse has become an annual demonstration of what those introductions can set in motion. This year, a 1955 house on three wooded acres near Opus 40 supplied the setting.
Inside, Saugerties painter Marcie Paper undertook her first room design, turning a mudroom into an exuberant environment of hand-painted patterns and paper flowers. Audra Viehland and Michelle Sabin discovered ceramic artist Helen Prior’s wallpaper through the sponsor list and made it the starting point for their primary suite. Jennifer Salvemini and Saved Finery’s Nicola Whiteley collaborated on a bedroom; they had met at the 2020 showhouse.
Outside, Power’s idea needed people willing to help it leave the ground. Sculpture installer Todd Brannon arranged a scissor lift. Russo Rubman joined him on the platform, supporting the ladders while he secured them to the trees with steel cable. Cassandra Kellner helped prime and paint them. Power stood in the field, directing adjustments until the angles were right.
“I want to be filled with awe when I see sculpture,” Power says. Achieving that feeling took most of a day, including a lunch break to reconsider a ladder that wasn’t high enough. Even transcendence occasionally requires regrouping.
Power’s relationship with ladders began about 20 years ago, with a $15 apple ladder at Hoffman’s Barn in Red Hook. She admired its tapering form, painted it red, and brought it home to Manhattan. Years later, a ladder sculpture in her Woodstock yard caught curator Jen Dragon’s attention, leading to its inclusion in the 2020 showhouse. One invitation kept becoming another.
The showhouse closed November 1, but its connections keep working. Power’s airborne ladders offer an image of that collective possibility, built from practical skills, borrowed courage, and someone saying yes over tea. A work about trusting someone to catch you became possible because people showed up.
This article appears in November 2026.
