"A Well-Composed Room"

The New York Times style magazine has entered my life. And I couldn't be more grateful. I have a stack of them under my desk in my room; some half read, many cut up, and all with my stamp of approval. There are always interesting, “make you think twice” articles; spectacular travel and fashion fixes; and of course envy-worthy décor ideas.

The article, “A Well-Composed Life”, from the November 17,2013 magazine, was of particular interest. The British designer, Faye Toogood, opened up to the magazine about her late Georgian home in London, and I’m so glad of it.

http://tmagazine.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/11/15/the-well-composed-life-of-faye-toogood/

The rooms themselves, taken at a rushed “first-glance”, don’t seem like much: Grey and white walls (some blue), with similar muted color accessories throughout; basic wood floors, un-dramatic ornaments on the fireplace. But wait, is that a…? What is that?

On further inspection, the rooms have more interest than an HGTV magazine cover photo. Idiosyncratic items that don’t necessarily relate with one another, and yet have an altogether put together look, sprawl. On the mantelpiece alone a large wooden spoon sits next to an octagonal ceramic container, which sits next to a piece of [Celtic?] art of some kind.  The picture on the wall above is of a large stack of hay bales in a farmyard. A metallic skull sits within the fireplace staring off in the distance pathetically. A bathroom wall covered with something very much like fish scales…

You got my attention.

Toogood’s work in her own words is “the combination of the unexpected and the theatrical with something tactile or handmade, even painterly.”

Hearing about her story and her process, was what really stood out to me though. In the article, Toogood describes her style as combining things flea market and fine. “I like to combine the precious and the raw,” she notes.

To see and hear about Toogood for yourself, click here: http://nyti.ms/1f1C7S0

It is mentioned in the article that she is an “obsessive tinkerer”, and that when a new item comes in “everything has to be rearranged”.   I can very much relate. A new picture comes in from GW (goodwill), and I am forced to re-situate my picture wall.

Toogood talks of her experience as a child, when she would bring in objects from outside like bird’s eggs and rocks and harmoniously arrange them. I myself have been collecting what I call “found objects” since childhood as well. These were mostly shells, interesting rocks, and feathers, but I never consciously used them for decorating until I was a teenager.

My first experience of seeing nature as art (and using as such) was when I went to California with my parents. Walking around the surrounding area of Hollywood, I came across a pile of palm tree leaves stacked by a garbage bin. They were clippings of the tree’s leaves, but gosh darnit, I saw them as art. So I snatched one up, put it under my arm, and we continued walking. As soon as I got home I found a place in my room to display my new piece of art. This kind of thing has been happening infrequently for years since, and my room decoration has vastly improved with the incorporation of “Found art” pieces.

Unique finds at flea markets, garage sales, and the like are of course also fun additions to any room; not so much for what they are (or were) but for how you see them:  the beauty or meaning you attribute to them. And the way in which you compose the room with these said items. A room is a composition, and whether intentionally, or unintentionally, you convey your life and soul.

A well-composed one is certainly the goal.

"Go See Art"

Art is so fascinating to me. It invites itself as a gown, a piece of music, a painting, a poem, a motion picture, a theatre performance. Art is anything really that has depth of style or character; and is an expression of the times. But it can also not be these, and still be art.


My experience seeing the exhibit of Georgia O’Keefe's artwork in the Southwest was quite an experience.

It was 9:25am and I had just been dropped off at the Heard Museum for the morning. But of course I didn’t know it was that time. My watch had stopped a few days ago, and forgetting that minor detail, I had strapped it on that morning rather vainly. I had to ask a couple standing around outside the museum for the time; the museum was not to open until 9:30am. Once we got in and paid, we went our separate ways, and I found myself alone in a museum filled with artifacts and displays on Native American culture in the Southwest.  

It was remarkable.

As I stitched my way through the intricately designed pattern of a room, I was mentally preparing myself for the exhibit I would encounter. This was what inspired her. This is what she experienced. One of the first things that struck me was the Katsinam (carved and decorated creations of Hopi and Pueblo spirit beings), which I knew from the newspaper had been an inspiration for her.

                                     http://www.fineartconnoisseur.com/pages/15523250.php


 I began to daydream on what also would have impacted her and her work: things you can’t put behind glass like the dehumanizing heat of the desert, or the blithe, blue, sky of sunshine or the grit of light brown dirt brought into the house by blameless shoes.

And so I arrived.

http://ingoodtastedenver.com/2013/02/14/georgia-okeeffes-loveletter-to-the-southwest-by-art-lavah/

                                      


And I knew my life would carry a new hue to it, as if her spirit (transmitted into her artwork) added a new brush stroke to my own life’s work. It was an experience not easy to replicate. Possibly it was because I was one of three people in that exhibit room; and the necessary solitude to encounter such a feeling was at hand.

To be perfectly honest, I was never much enthralled with Georgia O’Keefe’s oversized paintings of flowers close-up. But learning of her life story through the documentary changed my perspective. She hailed from New York and at various times stayed or lived in New Mexico, which became a kind of spiritual refuge for her. The whole experience opened my eyes to a woman and an artist I never knew. In fact, I could almost relate.

I saw her as a woman of great courage and faith traveling in search of she knew not what. And it brought her here: Doing her life’s work in the middle of nowhere. And yet to her it was somewhere.

                         http://geraldstiebel.blogspot.com/2013/08/georgia-okeeffe-southwest.html

She was regenerated by the magic and mystery New Mexico invariably offers its most loyal seekers. And in turn she gave something back to the southwest in the form of her art.

            http://art-landscape.blogspot.com/2010/06/georgia-okeeffes-landscapes-of-northern.html


I understood. And I was heartened.



"One should either be a work of art or wear a work of art."-- Oscar Wilde

I would only add to this "or see a work of art (or several!).”