The house that Halloween built in Hamilton
Over the last several years their house has been: ravaged by toxic cataclysm (hey, it’s Hamilton — whose hasn’t?); slammed into by a UFO; overtaken by giant radioactive insects and consequently cordoned off by the Glenfern Entymological Research Centre.
And, for all that, you can’t find two people who love this city more. Gluttons for punishment? Hardly. More like head over hobgoblins for Halloween.
Last year, it was a jack-o-lantern junta. There were arrayed no fewer than 150 specially carved pumpkins in glowing orange regiments along their steps and yard, to the delight of passersby and many who came from out of their way to see what the fuss was about. Because, come Halloween, there’s always a frightful fuss at 86 Glenfern, where Jen and Casey Rovinelli live.
The pumpkins bonanza of Halloween 2016 on Glenfern was such a hit, Jen and Casey decided to reprise it this year, but bigger and to raise money for Hamilton Food Share.
The pumpkins might not have been as high concept (toxic site; UFO crash; etc.) as some earlier efforts (one Halloween they did an elaborate pirate theme, replete with ship mock-up, using the deck rail of their porch as a proxy for the taffrail at which, of course, a ghost pirate captain was standing).
But they never got as many oohs and aahs as last October’s pumpkins.
“People seemed so blown away last year,” says Casey. “Cars were driving past. There would be groups of people looking at it at 11 at night.”
Some were so taken by it they offered money; that’s how the charity idea arose.
There’ll be 200 pumpkins this year, and all have already been donated by Scotlynn Sweet-Pac Growers in Norfolk County, an unexpected boon.
People are directed to the website, hamiltonpumpkinhouse.com, and for a $20 donation, you’ll get your name carved into a pumpkin. People can donate less, of course, but then no name in the gourd.
The Rovinelli Halloween house tradition began in 2010 when the couple moved here from San Francisco (after a short stay in Toronto), buying the house from, as it turns out, music notables Kathleen Edwards and Colin Cripps.
“We never had a house before; we were always in apartments,” says Jen, who has two careers — wig provision for opera and theatre, and interior design for spas, restaurants and hotels.
They both thought: wouldn’t it be great to do up the whole house, now that they had one? And so, 2010, to the neighbours’ surprise, an enormous underwater tableau began to appear in their front yard at Halloween.
There were large jellyfish hanging from the gabled porch roof and elsewhere; the house was bathed in blue floodlight. They made fish with papier mache, spray paint, bubble wrap for the jellyfish tentacles. Magnificent.
Next year, the toxic dump. They rented a dry ice machine to create a vapour cloud, there were jars of goo, figures (including Casey) in HAZMAT outfits.
Pirates in 2013, with chains, ship rigging and netting, a treasure chest. Oh, and new addition, Nash, born the year before, dressed up as a parrot. Nash, later joined by sister Beck (2014).
“All the kids love it,” says Jen. “It’s fun to hear them now, remembering past ones. It’s something they’ve grown up with.”
They do everything themselves, hunting up materials at thrift stores, Kijiji and so on, and they start on their more theatrical themes six months in advance. “And it’s always top secret,” says Jen.
Saturday there’s a big carving party at 86 Glenfern and Fortino’s Main West is providing the lunch. From Halloween forth, the pumpkins will be up and lit for a week after which they’re being fed to the pigs at Harrington Lanes Farms in Waterdown.
For Casey and Jen, it’s all a big love letter of sorts to their new home. They’re crazy about Hamilton.
“The first day we arrived, people were coming over, welcoming us, inviting us to parties,” says Jen. “And where else do people park facing the wrong way. We have people visit from Toronto and we say park in the driveway. But they say, no, we want to park the wrong way.” Because it’s Hamilton.
A city made for Halloween.