When I was posting photos for Mette's challenge earlier in the week I was having a great deal of trouble stating what these pieces said about me, how they defined me in any way. My post became verbose, not at all surprising to anyone who has read my previous blogs. I will probably still be long-winded, but I hope to at least be coherent.
I am still not sure that, in my case at least, that individual pieces can be evaluated apart from their setting. Perhaps they can. Perhaps I have simply not yet come to terms with this.
I do think however that the setting can say much. Take this section of our living room (this photo was originally posted on my earlier blog, sewdistracted, last spring). I love this portion of this room and am inclined to think it shows you far more about me than three simple pieces ever can. You will note, however, that two pieces from Tuesday's post reside here.
Next to the sofa is a piece of brickwork. It is actually the matching piece to the one I showed the other day. They are part of a pair, which fit well together to form one long piece, but also work separately as they are used now. These pieces were part of the original Vassar Hospital Building in Poughkeepsie, and G rescued them when the building was being demolished. They are among my favorite pieces of furniture. I love the fact that they were once something else, and have found new life in my home.
On the far right side of the photo you see the corner of a Wassily chair by Marcel Breuer. This is the same chair, but this time it is in its normal position. I had to turn it in order to get a photo. Obviously it is not original; the original models had canvas rather than leather. I do love the shape of the chair. I find it extremely comfortable. I like the way it uses industrial materials (tubular steel) and leather. And although I tend to see this chair more often with black leather, which offers a stark contast to the steel, I would not own the black version. I find it cold and impersonal. I like the warmth the brown leather brings to the cold steel. This chair was a gift to me from G early in our marriage. It was a very thoughtful gift and I appreciate the effort he went to find it. It is important to me that he bought the licensed production version with real tubular steel as opposed to the cheap chrome versions that were, and still are, available. Lastly, the positioning of the Wassily chair next to the brick work is new, and it makes me very happy. They work well together and I sit here every day.
I find this area warm and inviting and I like the mix of new and old. It is also one of the few areas of the house where the furnishings are truly the result of cooperative enterprise. The house came with the husband, completely furnished. I don't really like the paneled walls or the wall to wall carpet, although there is much to like about the house as a whole. I did not like the original furniture, or most of it, and although most of it has slowly gone over the course of 24 years, some still remains. Unfortunately some of the pieces I did like have also gone due to decisions or circumstances that seemed right at the time.
The brickwork was George's. The lamps were mine. They need new shades, and I know exactly what I want and merely need to get around to having them made. Everything else, the sofas and the tables were a cooperative enterprise, sometimes immediate and easy, sometimes difficult and protracted. This is not surprising when two strong willed people with definite opinions about design join forces. The paperback books on the ceiling beams were my idea, and although they are somewhat difficult to access, they make me happy up there, peering down on whoever is in the room. The black tubing around the rim of the table is not a part of the design but is simple pipe insulation picked up at our local hardware. G can no longer see the edges of the clear glass and over the course of the last year he has had many injuries where he simply ran into the table. Yet he did not want to lose the table. This was a simple, stylish and practical accommodation to the reality of aging.
I see I haven't really addressed the yellow Panton chair. It is part of a set of 4, two white, two yellow. They are outside on the deck at two small tables where we often sit. They were my choice. G hated them when he first saw them and I dreamed about them for years. When the deck was finished a couple of years ago I bought myself two as a birthdday gift to myself. Since then G has come to appreciate them and their comfort. Last year he asked that we get two more. He also asked that they not be the same color, that was "too boring". Soon I will be taking them into storage for the winter. I will miss them. Every spring, when I bring them up to the deck, I giggle like a schoolgirl and can't wait to sit in them. I sit there, swinging my legs like a small gleeful child, feeling the chair rock gently with me, with an enormous grin on my face. These chairs bring me great joy.
I wish that every thing in my life could bring such joy, but of course that is not the way of world. Yet it is what I strive for everyday.
