The trappings of history surround Barbara Borsack. Each day, she wakes up in a house on East Hampton Village land owned by her family since the 1800s, a site where her ancestors had a blacksmith shop.

Stories of her family, the Strongs, can be found in many accounts of historic East Hampton, and Mrs. Borsack herself is doing her part to keep interest in the past alive.

A member of the East Hampton Historical Society's board of directors, she represents the society on the committee planning East Hampton Town's 350th anniversary events. Since August, Mrs. Borsack has also been a one-woman subcommittee in charge of producing a souvenir map that will highlight some of the town's many sites of historical interest.

Michael Brown of Streetwise Maps in Amagansett volunteered to design the durable maps, which will go to print next week and are expected to be available in March.

In appearance, they will resemble the format of others made by the company - detailed, laminated, fold-out maps about the size of a standard brochure, designed for maximum convenience for people out and about.

"There have been large, foldout historical maps made before," Mrs. Borsack pointed out, "but this one is usable. People can put it in their back pocket or in a glove compartment. It's not meant to be a piece on someone's wall."

Besides landmark structures such as the Montauk Lighthouse (a great-grandfather of Mrs. Borsack's was its keeper, once upon a time) and Miss Amelia's Cottage in Amagansett, the map will show some lesser-known points of interest: the site of the ruins of Phoebe Scoy's Northwest Woods house, for example, and the long-gone dirigible base in Montauk.

The locations of cemeteries and of "major shipwrecks" are among other highlights.

Mrs. Borsack gathered suggestions from committee members representing each of the town's hamlets; then, with Hugh King and Averill Geus, hit the history books to select others. Each attraction comes with a thumbnail description, just enough to make the visitor want to know more.

The maps will be sold, for $7.95 each, at the anniversary committee's newly opened office at the East Hampton railroad station (10 a.m. to 2 p.m. are its hours) and at shops.

Mrs. Borsack, a lifelong East Hampton resident and the mother of four children, became involved in the Historical Society in 1986, after attending its first Mulford Farm festival.

"I was intrigued by it," she said. "I thought it was a good educational tool. I want all [the children] to be aware of the history East Hampton has."

The Borsacks live with a number of Strong family artifacts. Her great-great grandfather's Civil War rifle, hat, and swords are in their house, for example. Some items are displayed at the Strong Agency, which is run by Ted Borsack, her husband.

An interest in the medical profession and a desire to "do community service that would be more hands-on" led Mrs. Borsack to join the East Hampton Village Ambulance Association in 1990. She received 130 hours of training as an emergency medical technician, and served as the first female chief of the squad in 1995 and 1996.

She has been a member of the Village Zoning Board of Appeals since September. "I like it because, again, I feel like it's an opportunity to make a real difference in the village . . . to have an impact in terms of its future."

What follows is excerpted from Dr. Gaynell Stone's Jan. 31 Guild Hall lecture on "The Material History of the Montaukett."

. . . .The English Captain Southack wrote on his early 1700s map of the two Forks: "I commanded ye first ship that ever was at this place" on the Peconic estuary portion. He also located "Indian Town" on the Napeague portion of the map. This was the first of a number of early maps which located Indian Town, or Indian Plantation, on the Montauk peninsula - an important visual adjunct to the written record.

The site appeared further east with each deed extracted from the Montaukett by the settlers - taking another portion of their land.

The sachem Wyandanch's mark (a figure drawing) on a deed authenticated it; those deeds without it could be doubtful - and there were many, in the colonists' lust to "buy" Native land with gifts. It was easier to pay Wyandanch than the many heads of bands living across the land. . .

. . . The Montaukett retained traditional wigwam housing, much of the hunting and gathering lifestyle, the use of herbal medicines, and traditional gatherings into the 20th century. One notable category of this mortuary record was trade beads . . . Their arrangement gives evidence of the esthetic values of the Montaukett known in no other way. One burial was that of a leader, Wobeton, known from the Town Records as well as by [an] autographed English spirits bottle.

A colonial economy has an insatiable need for labor for whaling, farming, herding, dairying, cheese- and butter-production, textile production, and craftware, hence servants and slaves. Of 90 Suffolk County wills probated from 1670 to 1688, 24 listed English, Negro, and Indian servants and slaves. Their value was second only to cattle owned. Of this 24, two, or 8 percent, were listed as "Indian captive servant" or "Indian slave girl. . ."

Another form of labor for the Natives was being forced to produce huge quantities of wampum (shell beads) to pay fines levied upon them for infractions of local laws (which they often did not understand). . . the wampum was used by European traders to purchase furs from the northern territories. Since the largest amount of whelk shell for making wampum is found on eastern Long Island beaches, the area became the "mint" of New Netherland.

Further participation by the Natives in the new economy was service as militiamen in all the provincial campaigns before the French and Indian Wars and in the American revolution. They served out of proportion to their numbers in the population and left many Native settlements with a large number of widows; this led to intermarriage with Anglos, African-Americans, and other groups. . .

Most of the Montaukett worked for the East Hamptoners and helped make colonial life as comfortable as it was. They were gin (fence) keepers of the livestock pastured at Montauk and laborers for the Gardiners and others. The men used traditional woodworking skills to make piggins, ladles, and bowls for settler homes; they provided fish, oysters, and game for them. Stephen Pharaoh's pay is recorded for "bottoming" (rushing) Dominy chairs. As skilled shore whalers, Montaukett men were fought over by entrepreneurial East Hamptoners to be their crewmen. . .

The Native women used the spinning wheel to spin yarn, a necessity for all knitwear and weaving of essential cloth. They became expert makers of butter and cheese, which were major cash crops for their masters. Baskets, scrubs, jellies, and fine hand work provided cash for themselves. They cared for the mothers and children of colonial families, and were encouraged by the society to be the sex objects of the men; hence the Montaukett descendants of some of the early settlers. . .

As well as the usual farm and maritime work, 19th-century economic activities of the Montaukett included work in the developing factories of the area . . . as guides for wealthy hunters and the sportsmen's clubs . . .. They delivered ice . . . provided livery service for the newly developing tourist industry . . . and produced wood and textile crafts still in early East End homes. . .

. . . Maria Pharaoh's diary, the only such document about 19th-century Native lifeways, describes their self-sufficient, happy homesteading lifestyle - gathering, hunting, fishing, guiding sportsmen, and selling crafts . . . After David Pharaoh died of tuberculosis, Maria and her children could not maintain the homesteading lifestyle. They were lured to move to Freetown, north of East Hampton village, by promises by Frank Benson that they could return in summer, would get a yearly annuity, and education for the children. The Benson family, who had bought Montauk peninsula from the Town Trustees, used it as a hunting preserve and planned to develop it. The promises were empty, the Montaukett homes at Indian Field containing their deeds and records were burned, and they were driven away from their ancestral home. . .

Dr. Gaynell Stone, who holds a Ph.D. in anthropology, is the museum director of the Suffolk County Archaeological Association.

The editor of "The History and Archaeology of the Montauk," she teaches at the State University at Stony Brook and Suffolk Community College, and is a New York Council for the Humanities speaker on the native peoples of coastal New York.

This is excerpted from Dr. John Strong's Jan. 31 Guild Hall lecture, "Wyandanch, Sachem of the Montauketts: An 'Alliance' Sachem on the Middle Ground."

In the early spring of 1648, Governors Eaton and Hopkins sent Thomas Stanton, a Connecticut merchant, to purchase lands for them on the eastern end of Long Island. . . [Several clauses] in the deed suggested a concept of joint usage. The English promised that, "if the Indians, hunting of any deer, they should chase them into the water, and the English should kill them, the English shall have the body, and the sachems the skin." According to Indian custom, when hunters drove deer or bear into rivers or ponds, the skins were sent to the sachem who controlled the hunting territory. The Montauketts must have assumed, at the time, that they still had a claim to the parcel. . .

. . . In 1649 the English put Wyandanch's commitment to a severe test. They asked him to honor a sensitive clause in the [Hartford] treaty [of 1644] which compromised his sovereignty. The clause stipulated that Indians who injured English people or property be turned over to the English courts.

When the Southampton settlers accused the Shinnecocks of murdering an Englishwoman, Mandush, the Shinnecock sachem, refused to cooperate with the investigation. The two communities armed themselves and stood ready for a confrontation. The Shinnecocks made a proposal which was in accordance with their custom of providing restitution for the victims and their families rather than punishing the guilty parties. They offered a payment that would be borne by their whole community, but the English rejected this form of restitution.

Lion Gardiner sent Wyandanch to the Shinnecock village and urged him to use his influence to end the impasse. The Montaukett sachem took advantage of the close kinship ties his people had with the Shinnecocks to help him locate and capture the men responsible for the murder. With Mandush's consent, Wyandanch took the accused men to Hartford, where they were tried and executed.

Mandush accepted a tributary status under Wyandanch and granted the Montaukett sachem full control over all of the Shinnecock lands. This was a major success for the English policy of indirect rule through "alliance sachems." The English had now neutralized a troublesome sachem and strengthened a reliable ally.

The English repaid Wyandanch's loyalty a few years later. In 1653, when Ninigret, his old nemesis from Rhode Island, raided Wyandanch's village, killing about 30 of his men and seizing his daughter, Quashawam, and 14 other captives, the Montaukett sachem turned to Gardiner and the English for help. Although the episode is very poorly documented, it appears that Gardiner helped to raise money for Quashawam's ransom. . .

When Ninigret again threatened Wyandanch in the fall of 1655, the English moved quickly to protect their loyal ally. . . The action successfully thwarted any plan the Niantic sachem may have had to retaliate for his defeat on Block Island. He did not initiate any further action against the Montauketts until after Wyandanch's death in 1659.

Tackapousha [named by the Dutch as chief sachem over western Long Island] and Wyandanch, supported by their European allies, soon became the two most powerful and influential sachems on Long Island. Both men became the primary liaisons between their people and the new immigrants to Long Island, as well as important players in the international struggle between the English and the Dutch for control over Long Island. . .

A year after Tackapousha resolved the difficulties between the Dutch and the Secatogues, the English called upon Wyandanch to resolve a much more serious confrontation. Several Shinnecock men and an African American woman conspired to burn down several buildings in the settlement. One of the buildings was the home of Eleanor Howell, the widow of Edward Howell, who had helped to found the town in 1640. One or more of the conspirators may have been servants in the Howell household . . . several other buildings in the town were also burned.

Possibly the attacks were also related to conflicts over the invasion of Indian planting grounds by English livestock, a common problem during this period. . .

The court records did not mention the African American woman, but Wyandanch later reported that the servant woman was "far deeper in that capital miscarriage than any or all of the Indians." It is possible that Wyandanch was attempting to shift the blame away from the Indians, but even so his account raises some fascinating questions about the relationship between the small population of African American servants and slaves and the Indians. Both groups certainly shared common frustrations in their relations with the dominant white settlers. The suggestion that a woman had taken a role of leadership in the small rebellion is also interesting. . . .

There is a reference in a later document to a Shinnecock man who killed himself to avoid "just execution" by the English. The man may have been Wigwagub, the only one who confessed to the arson. . .

Wyandanch endorsed several more transactions in 1658 and 1659, as Englishmen from all over Long Island sought him out to bolster their land claims.

Two weeks after his endorsement of Andrews' title, Wyandanch turned his attention to the Shinnecock land west of Canoe Place, where the Shinnecock Canal is located today. Wyandanch demonstrated his experience as a negotiator and his understanding of English institutions in these transactions. . .

[Wyandanch sold Lion Gardiner a large tract of beach land.] Once again, however, Wyandanch insisted on a clause which would provide him and his family with a regular income. Gardiner agreed to pay the sachem and his heirs 25 shillings a year, each October, forever. The whales which were cast up on the beach, a major source of wealth on the south shore of Long Island, remained Wyandanch's property. The Indians also retained the right to cut flag grass and bulrushes, which they used to make mats for the wigwams.

These transactions . . . were unique in that they guaranteed a continuing return of income rather than a final dispossession. . .

. . . The land titles were, of course, a primary concern of the English, but another important source of wealth on the East End of Long Island was whale oil. The Montauketts took the tails and fins of the whales for their ceremonial feasts, but the English were primarily interested in the oil and baleen, because these commodities could be turned into hard currency on the European market. Drift whales were the first cash crop on Long Island.

In November 1658, Wyandanch gave Lion Gardiner and Rev. James one half of the whales "or other great fish" which drifted onto the beach between Napeague and the far end of Montauk. This was an important grant because it gave the two men an exclusive right to all of the ocean beaches on Montaukett lands. The town of East Hampton owned the whale rights from Napeague on west to the Southampton border and held them in common trust. Wyandanch did require a small percentage of their profit, but left it to James and Gardiner to pay "what they shall judge meete and according as they find profit by them". . . .

On July 14, 1659, shortly before his death, Wyandanch signed a most unusual document. It reads almost like a last will and testament. Written in the first person as if dictated by Wyandanch, it acknowledged Lion Gardiner's friendship, counsel, and material aid over a 24-year period. Gardiner, said Wyandanch, "appeared to us not only as a friend but as a father." In return for this friendship, Wyandanch made him a gift of 30,000 acres of land between Huntington and Setauket which included most of what is now the Town of Smithtown . . .

Wyandanch died some time during the fall of 1659. According to Lion Gardiner, the Montaukett sachem was poisoned, but this is not corroborated in any of the colonial records. It is also possible that he died in the plague which took the lives of an estimated two thirds of the Algonquian people on Long Island between 1659 and 1664.

Wyandanch's passing was one of the events which marked the end of an era in Indian-white relations on Long Island. The era was characterized by the scramble of imperial powers at one level and aggressive individual entrepreneurs at another, to grab as much land as possible. The other markers were the death of Lion Gardiner in 1663, the English conquest of New Netherland in 1664, and the great plague. . . .

In 1665, Richard Nicolls, the first governor of the newly established colony of New York, officially declared that there was no longer any "grand sachem" of Long Island. "Every sachem," said the governor, "shall keep his particular property over his people as formerly." The English, who had created the position, had now abolished it.

Dr. John Strong, who holds a Ph.D. in history, has written extensively on the Algonquian peoples of Long Island. His most recent publications include "The Algonquian Peoples of Long Island From Earliest Times to 1700," "We Are Still Here: The Algonquian Peoples of Long Island Today," and articles in such periodicals as Ethnohistory and The Long Island Historical Journal.

The full text of these two features may be found on the World Wide Web hhtp://www.350theasthampton.org .

"It takes a rare breed of individual" to stand up to the roasting dished out last Thursday night to James Brady, said Nora McAniff, publisher of People magazine and president of Advertising Women of New York, the evening's sponsor.

But hey, what else would you expect from a name-dropping, three-martini-lunching, stogie-puffing yarn- spinner like the author of "Further Lane"?

The roast, at the Supper Club on Manhattan's West Side, easily rated NC-17 at times.

His Favorites

The jesting began with a serenade of sorts, sung by Pamela Fiore, the editor-in-chief of Town & Country. To the tune of "These Are a Few of My Favorite Things," she recited some of the targets that turn up most often in "Brady's Bunch," Mr. Brady's weekly column in Advertising Age - Martha Stewart and Jerry Della Femina prominent among them.

Mr. Della Femina got his own punches in soon after. He was there to talk about "a man of little talent," he said, who had "somehow mysteriously managed" to become one of the biggest names in the industry.

"What a travesty," said the adman. "How did this happen?"

The man he was speaking of, he said, is a "shameless name-dropper" who, having written seven books, now "has the nerve to call himself an author," a man who not only lunches at the Four Seasons but has Mortimer Zuckerman stopping on his way out to say hello.

"I'm more famous, and in the end that's all that counts," Mr. Della Femina declared.

"Now I'd like to talk about Jim Brady."

Stick It In?

Mr. Brady writes celebrity profiles for Parade magazine. His typical subject, confided Walter Anderson, its editor-in-chief, is "a wildly successful TV or film star who possesses one breast or one testicle."

When it was his turn, Mr. Florio called Mr. Brady a "simple, unpretentious, and straight-shooting guy," a "Will Rogers of the '90s" who "never met a celebrity he didn't like."

"He's managed to stroke so many, in fact," said Steven Florio, the president of Conde Nast, "that his book should be called 'Stick It in Further Lane,' which is so much more appropriate."

"You might get a juicy Liz quote on the cover of your book if you squeeze the gossip columnist between its covers enough times," Mr. Florio added.

Liz Smith said of "Further Lane" that no one does it with as much "panache" as Mr. Brady, Mr. Florio said, "and I guess Liz should know."

So should Coco Chanel, he continued. Mr. Brady told a reporter recently, Mr. Florio joked, that "he learned fashion at the knees of Coco Chanel."

"I heard you went a little higher than the old broad's knees."

W, Page Six

Mr. Brady began his diverse career in college, working nights as a copy boy for The New York Times. He was a Marine in the Korean War, a reporter for John Fairchild's Women's Wear Daily and its London bureau chief, and then, for seven years, its publisher, helping to launch its successful glossy spinoff, W.

Since then he has been editor and publisher of Harper's Bazaar, editor of The Star tabloid, editor of New York magazine, and, as associate publisher of The New York Post, the creator of the paper's Page Six.

He has done features and interviews for ABC-TV and CBS-TV in New York and has won one Emmy award and several nominations. In addition to his Advertising Age column and Parade profiles, Mr. Brady appears on CNBC's "Power Lunch" show, aired from the Four Seasons.

Living Lunch

Mr. Florio said of the latter job that Mr. Brady had learned "to make lunch into a living."

"You just wait for someone to pay for it, and you don't gain weight."

Ellen Levine, editor-in-chief of Good Housekeeping, affectionately compared Mr. Brady's column to "a jock strap."

"When Jim loves you, he loves you, and when he doesn't, well, let's just say dog meat comes to mind."

"A lot of people believe Jim Brady, but then a lot of people believe President Clinton," she said, adding, "This is a guy who's come a long way - Angela's Ashes to Jim's Jacuzzi."

Dad On The Spit

Even Mr. Brady's two daughters, Susan and Fiona, got in on the act. Their father "loves the outdoors, and he loves to take his constitutionals" along the south-of-the-highway lanes of his neighborhood, they said, and to offer his neighbors his opinion on their poor choice of architectural style by sticking Post-It notes on their doors.

Mr. Brady is "often seen walking across the Maidstone golf course, but he's not a member." Sometimes, said one of his daughters, he picks up stray golf clubs. "He got caught once, and he lied about it."

They suggested East Hampton officials find him a job here, "so he could settle down and not do so many odd jobs in publishing."

The honoree had a chance to defend himself at the end of the roast - which, noted Ms. McAniff, had sold out very early - and a chance to ramble on a bit, as he is wont to do.

He thanked "this power elite, this A list," and joked that the only faces missing were those of "Linda Tripp and the Special Prosecutor. Is anyone wearing a wire?"

With more seriousness (was he getting choked up? It sounded like it), Mr. Brady said he was thankful for knowing first-hand "how fortunate we can be and how good life is."

Watch Out

In a glossy souvenir playbill created for the event, companies added a few parting shots.

"Contrary to what some people believe, the Brady Bill is not a tab at the Four Seasons," offered Hachette Filipacchi Magazines.

"Oooops. We really meant for Jim Brady to be our man of the year," said Time magazine.

"We still prefer not to see his expense report after a night at Elaine's," wrote Crain's New York Business.

If anyone offended Mr. Brady last Thursday, their name is bound to appear in his next column, Ms. McAniff suggested. Keep your eyes peeled.

Or, as Mr. Florio put it: "Watch out, babe. Here comes James."

I watched "Amadeus" on TV last night, and today I had to cover a "share-hunting" party for Time Out. Somehow, as you will see, the two got intertwined. . . .

Dear friends and countrymen, I write to you with news of the most urgent nature.

The barbarians are at the gate!

I have been, as you know, in New York of late, and today I stumbled upon the most terrible of sights. I was enjoying a leisurely walk to the apothecary, when, in the windows of a small, dark tavern called Hi-Life, my eyes caught them. They were a large barbarian horde, four score perhaps, huddled in the most secretive of congregations. It became quickly apparent what was occurring; they were plotting against our precious island.

In the shadows I hid. The horde was still studying maps of the area and renderings of some of our very own homesteads. Trembling, I listened. And soon their plan became starkly apparent: They were plotting to gather in large groups for the coming summer, occupy our very houses, and use these homes to stage their invasion!

O friends, how I shuddered!

Listening further, I learned more of their plot. They were to share these houses in groups of as many as 30 per weekend, and pass themselves off as summer visitors.

They would bathe at the beaches and amuse themselves in our taverns and inns - pretending to enjoy our beautiful hamlets. Ah, but underlying this vulgar pretense I knew there ran the currents of more sinister intent.

Swallowing my fear, I leapt from the shadows and lurched for the main table.

"What, pray tell, is going on here!?" I beseeched.

"It's a sharehouse party!" said one of the leaders, smiling first, then throwing me a quizzical, discerning glance. "Interested in getting in? We have a couple half and quarter shares left. We've got two houses, one in South, one in Bridge. The one in South is awesome - heated pool, right next to Jet East. These are the photos. Take a look."

He seemed unfazed by my abrupt intrusion on their hushed meeting.

It was a ruse. The barbarians were playing coy, letting their uninvited guest know just enough so as not to arouse suspicion, never revealing a hint of their darker purpose.

I picked up the photograph, and, thinking of the humble townsfolk who had put their homesteads up for lease without ever knowing what cruel consequence would befall them, I spoke.

"Yes, yes. Mmm. Very intriguing," I muttered. I would now play along, join them in their own game of deceit. "This quarter share of which you speak, what, precisely, will it get me?"

The leader, a confident, successful-looking fellow, smirked a bit, as did his cohorts, who were trying to muffle laughter as they stared me up and down.

"Was there some kind of parade today?" he asked. The stifled giggles that followed indicated they found my attire amusing. My face tightened. They were mocking me!

I became incensed, but wisely, I revealed it not.

"I'm sorry," said the leader, wiping a tear from his eye, unable, at this point, to disguise his amusement. "A quarter share gets you a bed in a room with four others for five weekends, and - basically - parties, parties, parties!"

"But, uh, can I ask you something? Why are you speaking in an English accent? You're not really English, are you?"

The indignation! I could take it no more - this, this character assassination!

I turned without a word and stormed out. The chilling drizzle cast a gray pallor over First Avenue.

Waiting for the carts to clear so I could cross the road, I was shocked to spot a flyer pinned to a lamppost advertising more of these so-called "share-hunting" parties: one at the Big Sur tavern, one at the Trilogy tavern, and one at the Loew's Hotel. My God! I thought. We haven't much time!

As I fled down the cold avenue, nearly being hit by a reckless cart, I spotted a box carrying the Village Voice newspaper, a subversive sheet known to be read by the barbarians and their sympathizers. I scanned its contents looking for more clues, when, to my horror, there stood a section with no less than 150 ads calling for more infiltrators to join more of these so-called "share-houses." I dropped the paper and fled.

This invasion was more dire than I had thought.

Now I sit in a dark room, in fear that I am being followed by the barbarians and that my days are numbered. Only a fortnight ago a friend asked if I wanted to "join his share-house." They had gotten him, too. I will be next, I fear.

I can only pray that this dispatch reaches you promptly and leaves you ample time to prepare and defend.

Godspeed!

While East Hampton celebrates its 350th anniversary this year, in Southampton the Parrish Art Museum is celebrating its centenary.

The museum, whose elegant Italianate facade is approached by shallow steps set back from Job's Lane, was founded by Samuel Parrish, a successful Quaker lawyer, to house his collection of Italian Renaissance art.

Its original layout of dark-paneled walls and Victorian clutter long since gave way to airy well-lit spaces and masterfully curated exhibits, but the all‚e of Roman busts in the museum's garden still nicely represents the less-than-trendy persona of South ampton.

School Art Festival

The yearlong parade of events to mark the occasion will get under way on Saturday, St. Valentine's Day, with a community concert at 2 p.m. and a birthday party from 3 to 5.

The highlight of the party, which will be attended by Southampton Town and Suffolk County officials, will be a huge birthday cake in the shape of the art museum's main building.

The party coincides with the opening of the annual School Art Festival, which will show work by students from all the schools in Southampton Town, and the concurrent exhibits "Community Portraits: Our Friends and Families" and a display of landscapes and portraits from the museum's permanent collection. All three shows can be visited through March 15.

The concert will include a string medley by elementary school musicians, a choral performance by Westhampton Beach High Schoolers, and a musical theater act by students from Our Lady of the Hamptons School. Centennial T-shirts will be given to all students attending the reception.

Annual Juried Show

The Parrish's juried exhibits of works by East End artists have always been much anticipated. This year the Centennial Open, which runs from March 22 through April 26, is part juried show and part invitational.

The show, which will have nearly 75 works, will include such East End heavy hitters as Eric Fischl, Jane Freilicher, April Gornik, and Saul Steinberg but also feature emerging artists such as Sally Egbert, Robert Harms, David Slater, and Nico Yektai.

De Kooning, Lichtenstein

Opening in May, "Changing Places: Looking at Southampton" will document how the village of Southampton has changed over time using paintings, photographs, archival maps, and contemporary photographs taken by Southampton High School students.

As a fitting marker of its 100th year, the museum's major summer show, "Dreams for the Next Century," will feature the work of two East End art stars of Abstract Expressionism and Pop Art who died in the past year: Willem de Kooning and Roy Lichtenstein.

The show will be accompanied by a site-specific installation by the contemporary artist Barbara Kruger.

A Rebirth

The Parrish Art Museum, particularly since coming under the direction of its present director, Trudy C. Kramer, is now a vibrant and dynamic entity, but some 50 years ago the museum was closed and moribund, two world wars and the Great Depression having brought developments to a standstill.

It was the arrival of Rebecca Bolling Littlejohn, as an energetic president of the board of trustees in the 1950s, that got it back on its feet again.

She stirred things up, launched fund-raising drives, initiated a campaign to acquire works by Childe Hassam, Winslow Homer, Thomas Moran, James Whistler, and other turn-of-the-century artists with connections to the South Fork, and continued to benefit the museum even after death, bequeathing it her personal collection of more than 300 paintings, many by William Merritt Chase.

Hitting Its Stride

Since then, the museum has concentrated on acquiring 20th century works of art, particularly those of the succeeding generations of painters who have lived and worked on the East End, such as James Brooks, Chuck Close, Jane Freilicher, Lee Krasner, John Marin, Alfonso Ossorio, Larry Rivers, Joan Snyder, Esteban Vicente, and Joe Zucker, as well as de Kooning and Lichtenstein.

As the Parrish Art Museum puts 100 years behind it and prepares to enter the new millennium, it appears to be hale, hearty, and just getting into the confident stride of maturity.

Gurney's Inn, high on the Montauk dunes, has one peerless advantage that keeps visitors coming back year after year and must make competitors gnash their teeth in frustration - it is the only restaurant within miles that is perched right on the ocean.

Photo: Morgan McGivern

If you are escaping from stress and fumes and noise, what could beat a spring lunch or a summer dinner watching the breaking surf and swooping sea birds? We found ourselves there in the dead of winter, though, so the experience was somewhat muted.

The way the inn is arranged and decorated adds to the nautical feel of the place. The huge dining room is backed by a slightly raised bar area; beyond that, higher still, is a brightly lit cafe. Our dining companion Lambert insisted that it looked just like the interior of a grand old ocean- liner, long passed from all memory except his.

Seafood Emphasis

As is fitting with a Montauk restaurant, the emphasis is on seafood, with choices of raw clams and oysters, baked clams, mussels, crab cakes, and two shrimp dishes. Appetizers start at $4.75 for chowder or soup of the day. On this occasion it was a very pleasant cream of vegetable puree with added rough chopped vegetables.

The mussels, sauteed with leeks and garlic in a Pernod cream sauce, were truly delicious. It was a generous portion, all the mussels were plump and moist, and the sauce was both unusual and perfectly matched to the mussels.

The crisp, well-flavored Caesar salad, liberally sprinkled with garlic croutons and excellent Parmesan, is enough to feed a small happy army.

The most expensive appetizer was Thai crab cakes with sesame slaw and coral sauce at $15. The portion, however, was as big as some restaurants serve as an entree, so it represents good value for money. In fact, a serving of mussels followed by the crab cakes would have made a nicely balanced light meal.

The entrees also favor seafood. There's salmon and lobster, lobster tails and scampi, tuna and swordfish, linguine with clams in white or red sauce, fettucine with shrimp, and a daily fish choice that will be cooked to your specification.

We had a bit of a wait for the main course, after which it was surprising that the duck was so overcooked that it had to be sent back. The staff was very gracious about it, didn't charge, and offered its recipient a free dessert to compensate.

Needn't Have Worried

We were a little nervous when we learned the rack of lamb was in a peanut crust and served with Hunan sauce, but we needn't have been. It was good indeed, as were the whipped garlic potatoes it came with.

In fact, all the side dishes were excellent. There was a delicious combination of green beans and onions and a couscous that was good enough to have been a meal by itself.

The seafood risotto, while a little overcooked, came with all sorts of tasty morsels - shrimp, scallops, Little Necks, mussels, and more. But Gurney's chicken, which it boasts is the most tender and moist ever served, had done longer than its allotted stint in the oven and wasn't.

Left In The Oven

We suspect that the chef was preoccupied with the big private party going on at the same time and the birds got left in the oven a bit too long. It can happen. That may have been what went wrong with the duck.

There is one minor criticism that wasn't the result of timing, though. By the time we had finished our appetizers it was only about 8:15 but we were alone in the dining room, the other couple of diners having left. The other tables glinted with crystal and silverware and one felt that at any moment some cheery group might arrive.

Those hopes were dashed when the waitstaff swept through the room and cleared all the tables. They did it quietly and discreetly, but the message was the same - the fun's over we're getting ready to close.

Frosty Tundra

The empty room and frosty tundra of naked white tabletops didn't do anything for the mood, especially since, on the other side of the deck, we could see a terrific party going on in the inn's private rooms.

The dessert plates came liberally decorated with brilliant green, red, and yellow patterns, as if for a child's party.

As the Grand Mariner Napoleon (was that a nautical pun?) proved stubbornly unyielding to a fork and had to be manhandled around the plate a bit, it resulted in a rather amusing neon green Abstract Expressionist mess.

Terrific Coffee

As to the four desserts themselves, I think I'll just pass over them and get on to the terrific coffee, which comes any which way you like it, including double-decaf espresso.

All in all, we caught Gurney's on an off February night. Since everything was within a hair of being just right, we plan to return when the weather is warm and the chef has a sous chef around to watch the ovens. By then the place will be bustling with people and, with longer daylight hours, we will be able to watch the surf breaking on the beach as the moon rises over the ocean.

One of the ironies of the Iraqi crisis is that the United States is demanding that Saddam Hussein comply with United Nations resolutions while ignoring majority Security Council opinion against military action.

Among the council's permanent members, only Great Britain is in support of the massive air attack the United States is conjuring up to force compliance with U.N. weapons inspections. Russia, China, and France are opposed.

Another irony is that while, according to Mideast experts, there are no compelling political or military reasons for President Hussein to attack Israel, a U.S. strike might encourage Iraq to do so in reprisal.

Since the Persian Gulf war ended in 1991, the United States has used force as well as economic sanctions - unsuccessfully - in an attempt to pacify its enemy. Now, Republican members of Congress are saying that any attack on Iraq must be designed not only to force compliance with the terms by which the gulf war was ended but to overthrow the Hussein regime.

We live in a volatile world made terrifying by nuclear proliferation. United States citizens often have been arms merchants to the world. Iraq is hardly alone among nations in hiding weaponry or threatening neighbors.

The only hope for lasting peace is through the strengthening of the rule of international law. And that means working with, not in defiance of, majority world opinion.

One woman died, two people were airlifted to Stony Brook University Hospital, and two were taken to Southampton Hospital after a head-on collision between two cars on Napeague Sunday afternoon that paralyzed traffic for hours.

The driver of a Ford sport utility vehicle was headed west on Montauk Highway at about 4 p.m. when he crossed into the eastbound lane and hit a Subaru head-on, according to East Hampton Town police.

Keith Kalmus of Aquebogue, the westbound driver, will be arraigned on a charge of driving while intoxicated in East Hampton Town Justice Court tomorrow. He is a former Queens prosecutor, the son of a retired Quogue police chief, and a cousin of Daniel Pelosi, who was convicted in December of murdering Theodore Ammon of East Hampton.

The accident took place half a mile west of the intersection of Montauk Highway and Old Montauk Highway and brought traffic to a standstill for almost four hours.

Eva Bertuccioli-Krapfenbauer of Belgium, 65, who was a passenger in the Subaru, was pronounced dead at Southampton Hospital that afternoon.

Mr. Kalmus, 39, who was alone in his S.U.V., was treated at Southampton Hospital and released later that day with a ticket to appear in court. Town Police Chief Todd Sarris said that a blood test, which Mr. Kalmus initially refused to submit to, showed alcohol levels above the legal limit for driving.

The case has been turned over to the Suffolk County Major Crimes Bureau, which may file additional charges. Mr. Kalmus's lawyer, Edward Burke Jr., acknowledged the possibility. Messages left at Mr. Kalmus's law office in Mattituck were not returned.

The driver of the Subaru, Claudio Bertuccioli of Brooklyn, was airlifted to Stony Brook University Hospital, where he remained yesterday.

One of his passengers, Margot Krapfenbauer of Austria, was in critical condition in the surgical intensive care unit at Stony Brook University Hospital yesterday, where she had been flown after the accident.

Another passenger, Rebecca McMillan of Brooklyn, who is Mr. Bertuccioli's wife, is in "good condition" at South-ampton Hospital, according to hospital staff. She was sitting in the front seat next to her husband.

Reached in his hospital room on Tuesday, Mr. Bertuccioli said that Ms. Bertuccioli-Krapfenbaur was his mother and Ms. Krapfenbaur, his aunt. The two women were sitting in the back seat.

He would not answer any other questions, saying that he had been instructed not to talk to the press about the accident.

According to Chief Sarris, the four tourists had stopped at the Lobster Roll on Napeague for lunch and were proceeding east to visit Montauk.

Emergency workers from the Amagansett Fire Department and the Montauk Fire Department responded to the accident. All four doors of the Subaru, as well as its roof, had to be cut off with a "jaws of life" tool to free the occupants. Mr. Kalmus's S.U.V. flipped on its side, but he was able to extricate himself before police arrived.

Traffic was backed up in both directions for over three hours while emergency workers, police, and investigators roped off what they called the crime scene. All cars were prevented from getting through, leaving Montauk under a virtual lockdown, with no access in or out.

Chief Sarris said the accident had to be reconstructed for analysis. Five police officers and a team of detectives investigated the site.

Because it was late on a Sunday afternoon, there were lines of cars bearing visitors trying to head back west, on both Montauk Highway and Old Montauk Highway, who had to be sent back to Montauk.

Traffic was at a standstill in front of Cyril's Fish House from 4 p.m. until perhaps three and a half hours after the accident, when the police started to let some cars through. "It was a disaster. I've never seen anything like it," said the restaurant's owner, Cyril Fitzsimmons.

Among the vehicles immobilized by the accident was a Hampton Jitney whose 13 passengers were extremely patient, according to Jennifer Friebely, a Jitney spokeswoman.

"I expected a bunch of complaints but I didn't get one. It restores my faith in human nature," Ms. Friebely said.

"It was an extremely difficult location. We couldn't feed them anywhere, although, from what I hear, some went on the beach" in four-wheel-drive vehicles, Chief Sarris said. Some who did that were turned back by the tide.

Traffic was at first routed through one lane. It was about 9 p.m. when vehicles were allowed on both lanes of Montauk Highway. Other than the fact that westbound cars had been backed up for miles, the chief said, there were no major problems.

With Reporting by Janis Hewitt

Blanche and Ziggy, Diane Mayo's German shepherd and African hunting dog, curled up, mirror images, at opposite ends of a couch in her Montauk house.

"They're like clones," Ms. Mayo remarked. It seemed right that she should have two small, friendly dogs living with her, since her pottery contains so many images of animals, particularly dogs.

Photo: Morgan McGivern

Ms. Mayo and her husband, Rex Lau, a painter, live in a low, long, red wooden house that she suspects may once have been a kennel, on former Carl Fisher property behind the Montauk Manor. The house doubles as studio space.

Bean & Beluga

Next door, a huge, beat-up white barn serves as residence and work space for a series of visual artists and writers who have been awarded monthlong summer residencies at the William Flanagan Memorial Foundation for Creative Persons, as Edward Albee's foundation is formally known.

Ms. Mayo and Mr. Lau have been living next door and keeping an eye on things for Mr. Albee for over 15 years.

Diane Mayo's name began to be known to the public in 1983, when she published a scathingly funny illustrated story called "Murder at Bean & Beluga," an Edward Goreyesque tale based on her experiences as a counterwoman at Dean & DeLuca, then in East Hampton.

Smoked Weasels

Her drawings of Bean & Beluga, showing counters piled high with croissants, arugula, and some more unorthodox items such as a "chocolate Hindenburg" and a barrel full of "smoked weasels," ring as true today as they did when the book was published.

Ms. Mayo bears a strong resemblance to the somewhat younger woman portrayed in that book - closely cropped hair, round face - and in her manner and soft speech she retains the mien of a graduate student.

She began as a painter, but gave it up in the mid-1980s, deciding that clay was more satisfying to work with. It "made me feel freer," she said.

The Raku Method

After an initial bisque-firing, which sets the form of the vessel, she glazes her pieces, then quickly fires them, using the ancient Japanese raku method.

The vessel is removed from the charcoal-fired kiln and placed in a garbage can lined with newspapers. As the paper burns, it sucks oxygen from the air, and the glazing on the pots crackles, lending the surface a delicate, time-worn texture.

Ms. Mayo's craftsmanship is immediately apparent in the form and facade of her pots. But what makes them distinctive is their multi layered, subtle coloring, and their use of animal imagery.

The animals often seem mysterious - like their real-life counterparts, said the potter.

"I like using animals in my work because of their mystery. They have a consciousness, and they look at you, and you look back at them, but you never really know what they're thinking."

Dogs peek from small, window-like holes. Black lemurs with long, fat tails sit, paws on knees, on the rim of a bowl, as if surveying the surrounding landscape. A dog's head rises from the top of a jar, looking formal, a bow tied around its neck.

The works have an air of quiet whimsy. A series of "generic monkeys," as Ms. Mayo calls them, scramble across a pot.

Element of Chance

The animals seem somewhat stylized as well. "They're real, but not totally real," Ms. Mayo said.

Her pieces are "decorative rather than functional," she said, adding that they are inspired by ancient Cypriot pottery.

"The potters on Cyprus made everyday pots and vessels, but they also made decorative pots," Ms. Mayo explained. "It was as if, when they'd finished their practical work, they'd make something just for the joy of it, something to be admired rather than used."

Where color is concerned, said the potter, a certain element of chance comes into play. "It's a part of the process that I enjoy," she said. "No matter how you plan - and you do know, fairly closely, how the colors will come out - you're always a little bit surprised."

Getting The Glazes Right

Ms. Mayo's work has attracted enough attention over the years to allow her to "make a modest living" from her work.

Recently, she began making stoneware bowls and mugs, vessels that have all the decorative felicities of her ceramic works, and are functional to boot.

"I didn't do stoneware for a long time," Ms. Mayo said. "I didn't think you could get good, strong colors into the pieces. But after experimenting, I finally got the glazes right."

Several At Once

She works at her craft every day. "I have a routine," she said. "I take the dogs for a walk on the beach in the morning, and then I get to work. There's always something in progress."

When she painted, she found herself concentrating on a single painting until she felt it was finished. With ceramics, she can have several projects going at once.

Ms. Mayo is friendly with many other artists who live on the East End, but she especially values the quiet of Montauk in the off-season, and is content to work methodically at her craft.

"I want them to be objects that have their own special presence," she said.

It was folly for William Rudin to spend around a million dollars on an enormous erosion-control system in front of his Bridgehampton house, but at least he did it with his own cash. Elsewhere along the south shore, millions of taxpayer dollars have been foolishly wasted on shore-hardening structures. Close to home, the bay and ocean beaches are scarred by publicly funded groins as well as privately funded bulkheads and revetments, from Hog Creek Point in Springs around Montauk Point to Westhampton.

As the destruction of Mr. Rudin's folly has illustrated so dramatically, shore-hardening structures work only sometimes, and then only at the expense of downdrift properties. The Konecky house, immediately west of Mr. Rudin's, will fall into the ocean if it isn't moved back. The Kelleher house, at the end of Potato Road in Sagaponack and downdrift of the Georgica jetty, did collapse last week.

Reminiscent of those that wreaked the destruction along Dune Road in Westhampton several years ago, two beach-scouring northeasters in the last two weeks have delivered as strong a message as any waterfront homeowner or government official should need. The power and capriciousness of the ocean cannot be controlled. Groin fields and sand-replenishing, as the Army Corps of Engineers has proposed, or the continued approval of revetments and bulkheads by local authorities, are as foolish as they are futile.

Southampton Town has a 100-foot setback law governing new oceanfront construction, and has too easily approved too many variances. East Hampton Town's setbacks range from 50 to 150 feet along the bays and from 100 to 150 feet on the ocean. These setbacks and the protected Double Dunes, which stretch between the Village of East Hampton and Amagansett, have helped limit destruction here.

But strict setbacks are only stopgap measures against a rising sea. With waterfront development in both towns nearing capacity, neither has limited construction enough.

Rather than ban houses in flood-prone areas, the Federal Emergency Management Act simply mandates that they be elevated. FEMA regulations do little more than trigger the Federal Government's costly flood insurance program, the epitome of public funds serving private interests, at least along the nation's coasts.

Densely developed Southampton has only just begun to draft a waterfront revitalization plan. East Hampton Town began that work more than a decade ago, and the flooding and erosion portion of the report was finished two years ago. It would ban all shore-hardening structures on the ocean, ban perpendicular ones on the bay, and allow the expansion of existing structures or their reconstruction only when they are part of a cluster or when they serve some public interest, such as public access to the waterfront.

The law would not apply in East Hampton Village, however, where most houses were built years ago and where a number of trouble-making jetties have been built to protect them. Village beaches have been relatively stable in recent years, but this winter's events prove they are not immune to the forces of nature. Applications to harden the beaches in front of existing houses will become more and more common as homeowners seek to protect their investments from inevitable catastrophes.

It is time for the East Hampton Town Board to tackle the job of turning the flooding and erosion report of the Local Waterfront Revitalization Plan into legislation. Southampton Town must be prepared to take similar tough action as soon as its generic environmental impact study of the ocean coast, under way for several months, is done. East Hampton Village should re-explore its decision giving the State Department of Environmental Conservation control of shore-hardening structures there. And the Town Trustees in both towns should make certain that they are included in all waterfront decision-making.