“Ralph had salt water in his veins, and his artistic language carried history and paid homage to those who lived before him... Martha moved to Harwich as a young girl. They were both impacted and inspired by Cape Cod’s beauty and strong sense of place. The Cahoons were very proud to live here.” - Cape Cod Life

 

Ralph was born in Chatham, Massachusetts to a family with a long history in Cape Cod. As a boy, he enjoyed the spoils of the coastal lifestyle, spending a great deal of time by the water. In high school he began to develop an interest in cartooning, drawing upon his surroundings for inspiration. Upon graduation, he left to Boston where he continued his pursuit of art, but ended up returning home to the Cape, feeling somewhat discouraged by the commercial art world.

 

 

It was around this time that Ralph met Martha Farham, the daughter of a well-respected furniture decorator of Swedish descent and fellow Cape resident. They married in 1932 and Martha began showing Ralph the art of furniture decoration, drawing upon Swedish, Pennsylvania-German and American folk traditions.

Over the years, they made a name for themselves in this field and began to develop their trademark style – Ralph gravitating towards scenes with sailors and mermaids, and Martha towards country scenes and nature motifs.

 

 

In 1953, a patron of the Cahoon’s pushed them to exhibit some framed works at her Country Art Gallery on Long Island. The show was an instant success and in the subsequent years they both shifted their focus to painting canvas. Ralph’s work became more whimsical, with scenes of mermaids and sailors frolicking on the backs of whales, in hot air balloons, and aboard majestic ships. These works resonated with patrons of galleries in Palm Beach, Nantucket, and other New England towns who enjoyed the fanciful take on the coastal lifestyle. By the 1970s they had developed such a devout patronage, that they left the gallery circuit and began exclusively selling their work out of their home studio in Cape Cod.

It was in their home, the place that it all began, that they continued to paint right up until Ralph passed away in 1982. Martha sold the house to a local art collector named Rosemary Rapp, who decided to establish the house at a museum dedicated to her and her husband’s life work and art that embodied the same spirit. Martha lived and worked in the house until the day she died in 1999.

Though they’ve both left us, their whimsical spirit lives on through their work, which has often inspired us. It reminds us to step back and appreciate the beauty and charm of the sometimes-harsh East Coast shores. Next time you're out on the Cape, we encourage you to visit the Cahoon Museum to see the work at the house in which it was created. And who knows, if you spend enough time on the Cape, you may just catch a glimpse of a mermaid if you know where to look.

It’s a drizzly day as I drive across the Queensboro Bridge to Sutton Place in Manhattan. I’m visiting Robert Rufino, a born-and-raised New Yorker and man about town who has had the kind of career that makes perfect sense in retrospect, but could hardly be planned in advance. As I walk into his foyer, the picture starts to come together. There are objects, paintings, furniture, and all manner of hints of a life well-lived.

QMS: We’re up here in Sutton Place, and I’m kicking myself for not having hung out around here before. It has a real old New York charm. I know you’re a native New Yorker who has stuck it out here for decades now. Tell me about growing up here. 

Robert Rufino: Well I actually grew up downtown, in Chinatown, which was a much different place than it is today, more like a village than anything. My father drove a taxi, and my mother ran a card shop. I went to a missionary school, and really had a great childhood. A little bit after going to FIT where I majored in window display and merchandising, l had the good fortune to start my career at Henri Bendel on 57th Street, which was quite extraordinary.

QMS: Wow, as I understand it, that was THE store of that time in New York. What did you learn while you were there?

Robert Rufino: It was a very special place, almost like a private club. And at that time window dressing was an art form – we called it street theater. Working at Bendel opened my eyes to a whole new world. Not only did I design the windows at Bendel’s, but I was in charge of store design and merchandising. Early on I knew I was dyslexic, and I had a talent for putting things together. My eyes and hands were my tools – whether I was designing a fashion window or a beautiful still life.

QMS: It sounds like you’ve always had a keen eye for style. How did that translate into your career post-Bendel’s?

Robert Rufino: Bendel’s being what it was, I was so entrenched in fashion that it was very normal for me to go on to work in fashion magazines. What started in retail led to me becoming a fashion editor for many years, at various magazines like Elle Fashion to The New York Times, Harper's Bazaar, and others. Eventually, I was Vice President of Worldwide Creative Services at Tiffany & Co. for 13 years.

QMS: Then you made a shift back to magazines. What prompted that?

Robert Rufino: I felt I had accomplished what I wanted at Tiffany’s and it was an honor to design windows for this landmark American brand. I wanted to return to the magazine world, but not fashion. I had the good fortune to work for Stephen Drucker at House Beautiful for about three years. From there, I went to Architectural Digest, Elle Decor back to House Beautiful, and now I work for myself, contributing to Frederic (put out by Schumacher) and do other projects for various magazines like Elle Decor, Town & Country and Veranda. I also consult certain brands.

QMS: You've described yourself as a producer. Can you elaborate on that role in the context of editorial work?

Robert Rufino: Yes, I do prefer the term “producer” over “stylist”. As an editor with my experience, producing a shoot is like being an Art Director. You set the stage for the photoshoot. It's a collaboration between you and the photographer, especially for magazines with a distinct voice. You have to master the process of working, of evolving an idea into reality. Whether you're designing a window or a dress, you have an idea, but you don't know how it's going to look until you start draping fabric or putting it together.

QMS: Let’s shift to your personal style for a moment. What specific moments or experiences influenced your approach to dressing?

Robert Rufino: The late '70s and early '80s in New York were influential. It was a time of individual expression. People dressed so individually; there was an explosion of personal style with figures like Steven Burrows, Stephen Sprouse, Halston, Perry Ellis. People wore what they wanted, unlike today, where it feels like everyone is wearing more of a uniform.

QMS: How did that era shape your personal style?

Robert Rufino: It's all about how you put things together. It’s the way you wear your hat. Real style is something you have within you, not a trend. It's about finding what makes you comfortable and being yourself. For example, I’ve always loved wearing blue, even now. When I was at Tiffany’s I used to wear a lot of beautiful deep blue suits, but now I’ll wear jeans and a blue shirt, and maybe a sport coat instead of the full suit but it's still clean and classic.

QMS: What music were you listening to back then? What was the soundtrack to that era for you?

Robert Rufino: I was a big Supremes fan! Also, Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, Aretha Franklin… so many artists. Roberta Flack, Eddie Kendricks, Diana Ross. I was a total Motown boy! But I always kept a little room for the Stones, the Beatles, and Janice Joplin.

QMS: You have all these great cultural reference points that the new generation hasn’t lived through. I’m curious, what are your thoughts on the younger generation and their approach to creativity and style?

Robert Rufino: In a way, all these young people have access to even more cultural reference points than I did growing up because of the internet. But I think you lose something when everything is so readily available. We had to search for everything ourselves, not just find it on the internet or Instagram. You know, shopping online is different, people aren't really looking at what they're buying – the fabric, the fit, the whole retail experience, which is what I grew up with. Life was simpler for us. But I know creativity finds a way to thrive in every generation, so the kids will be all right.