I was enjoying the effects of an old art school concoction of coffee and coke, which, with the proper creamer (preferably Fr. vanilla) ain't too bad... especially for working through the night. When I stopped by a friend's blog, she had made mention of chairs--they were
special chairs. It got me thinking... which usually means trouble--and that starts with "T"and... [Trouble in River City?...anyone... (crickets chirping)]
Moving right along, here... a story of my own about a chair came to mind. Imagine the audacity of leaving this on someone's blog! Actually, equall parts of audacity and caffeine (that's a lot of caffeiene) is my story, and I'm sticking to it. I did have the good judgement to use spoilers... that's just how I was raised, ah recon.
Uh oh! Chair story coming...
SPOILERS! (Click to view)
SPOILERS! (Click to view)
I once did some catering and "edible art" for a woman in her immense, double highrise apartment. She'd entertain some celebs, and captains of industry at her home, and for good reason. It seems that "Lolo" (Lois) Kushner had amassed quite an art collection over the years that she'd owned the Fontana Gallery in Philadelphia. [Verifyable] It was the best place in town to entertain guests, where else might one dine at a table that stood on a Frank Stella wall hanging (not Stella's intention to make a rug!)? Surrounded by works of Trova, Klee, Picasso, Kandinsky... Rauschenberg (who she refered directly to as "Bobby")
Ah!... Yes, the chair! When I first came over to her place to discuss spa cuisine, entertaining, and such... my gaze was obviously fixed on a terrace that was about 50' wide, and was a kind of tropical forest and bonsai garden... stones, mist, hidden lighting. [Later I found out from Ron that she had paid $30K in 1970's dollars to have it done, but we'll get to Ron another time.] Lolo offered me to relax and have a seat. I was so distracted by my surroundings, I didn't think to flop into one of the overstuffed comfy chairs and loveseats... I just wanted a veiw of both, that terrace, and the modern museum interior.
The only chair that fit the bill was a sundrenched, curious thing. It was a very rectillinear form that offered only a wide heavy leather strap of a back, and the seat was the same but slightly wider. It showed little age, and no signs of wear. The tops of the posts where little wooden knobs normally reside, were brilliant lions heads the size of cue balls. Once seated (however long that took), I noticed the lion-footed legs... but realized they too, like the heads, and the hand wrought, stippled and scarred bars that connected all of this were brass. The sculpted features were highly polished, where the utilitarian parts were intentionally treated as such. I will say, it was not the most comfortable chair I have ever sat in, but I did feel nothing less than in it, and the energy it seemed to emit. Lolo looked at me and laughed a for a moment, and asked if I was comfortable. I was honest about it, but willing to remain there to move on to talk about what I had come over for. She was fine with it, and we had a great meeting of the minds, then scheduled our first event. When I had arose from the chair I looked back at it, noticing a distinct familiarity about it, though you'd never see this in any store. It was then that Lolo said something to the effect; It isn't the most comfortable, but was her most cherished piece--not piece of furniture--she meant piece in her collection! I had without knowledge, or intent... plopped by ass right down in a Giacometti solid brass piece, of which only FOUR were ever made. Of the other three; one is owned by an Australian collector, one travels to museums on loan from a private collector, and the other belongs to Paloma Picasso. [Though It is rumored that she now owns two] I miss the late Lolo Kushner far more than my butt misses sitting on museum quality art... but, you know, it is a close second. '>; /-
I can't afford that sort of thing but do like to support local artists or galleries and have made a couple of wise selections, mainly though I get what makes me happy and falls within my budget at the time. I have been known to forgo practical things to acquire a painting. Even food. Bad thing is, I have a tendency to gift my guys with artworks or acquire pieces when involved with someone which they become attached to...so often a break up means my collection gets busted up too.
Must rule to have an ass that gravitates toward Giacometti.....