Art you can afford

In this age of DIY, everyone's an artist. We copy what we can (guilty as charged), frame pages from books or magazines, buy inexpensive reproductions and prints from Etsy, all in the quest for cheap, attractive ways to fill our walls. While I'm all for this--art is one way we make a house a home--I do sometimes feel like everything starts to look the same. The thing about artists is that they are able to share their unique perspective on the world in unique and often powerful ways.

Of course, most of us can't afford "real art," and may never be in a position to buy original works. But artists often also make limited edition prints and objects which are much more affordable. And while they are produced in quantities, they are by definition "limited," so unlike the ubiquitous Keep Calm and Carry On or Like 4 Ever, (both of which I am a fan of, for the record), only 100 or so others will have these pieces, and they will feel unique to your home.

I worked in the arts for a number of years as Deputy Director of the wonderful New York-based public arts organization Creative Time. One of the ways that small arts organizations support their missions is by producing limited editions with the artists they work with, and I am lucky to have some of these works in my home.

This edition was produced for the the annual gala benefit that I put on in 2005, and one of the patrons gave it to me as a wedding gift.

[Fred Tomaselli]

These little works on boards were actually prizes at some of the games in Coney Island when we commissioned artists to create new signs for the amusement district.

[Steve Keene]

For those of you who might be interested in branching out from the usual sources, I thought I'd start a little series on artist's editions and multiples, "art you can afford". Sometimes I'll share a source, like an organization that has a number of editions available, with my picks from their inventory. Other times I will share by category, like limited edition artist's wallpaper or ceramics for the kitchen. Sound good?

To kick things off, I'm keeping it personal and featuring Creative Time. While some of the current editions are still way out of my price range, there are a few pieces at the $100 mark.

(I have long wanted this Jim Hodges print, which hung in my office when I worked there, but at $5,500, it's just a tad out of reach. This photo doesn't really do it justice--those shapes are cutouts in the paper, and underneath are layers of paper in different textures and colors, and it is just ethereal)



I have this poster my Eve Sussman in my kitchen. It's hand screen printed on brown craft paper, and it's big: 30 x 44. I love the vintage vibe and the color palette. Signed. $100


This poster from Takashi Murakami is really fun, and would look great in a kids room or bathroom. It is about 22" square and $200.



Most of you are probably familiar with William Wegman. I'm not a dog person, but I actually do like his images of weimeraners--so much humanity. This poster is 22x23, signed, $100.


I love this poster from Gary Hume. It is a photograph of a huge sculpture he installed on the plaza of the Ritz Carlton on the lower tip of Manhattan. 22x23, signed, $100.


And finally, with all the unrest in the Midle East, I'm loving Nancy Burson's poster from 2002, Focus on Peace. 20 x 28. Signed. $50. I might have to pick this one up myself!


All prints can be purchased through the store, here. If you head over there, I highly recommend checking out the work of Creative Time. I would need many posts to share all of my favorite projects. Like Vik Muniz hiring a skywriter to paint the sky with cartoon clouds, or Jenny Holzer projecting poetry on New York's Landmark buildings, to name just two.

Just goes to show

When I was posting Danika's flashback on Friday, I found myself thinking that her "huh?" moments looked pretty good to me. In particular, she pointed out this checkerboard wall as a predominant "what was I thinking?" choice in her awesome carriage house.

[gorgeous shiny things]

Last night, I was looking through an old folder of tearsheets, and I found this.

[Elle Decor]

It's a bedroom by my very favorite designer Muriel Brandolini.

While I still (and always) think you should just do what you love in your home regardless of what other designers are doing, this just goes to show that one woman's "ugh!" might be another woman's "ahhhh," and that we tend to see spaces we have designed differently than other people will. We see the work that went into it, and all the flaws. Or maybe I should say "flaws."

Seeing this image again, I still feel inspired by the combinations of textiles and lighting--ornate with streamlined, fanciful with crisp--and while our tastes change, the way we combine things we love can continue to energize them and make them new.

Confession

I spent the past week painting the guest room navy. "Peaceful Night," actually, which seemed very fitting for a bedroom. It took four coats. FOUR. One coat of tinted primer and three coats of paint, and by the fourth pass on the fourth wall, I found myself cursing Behr and feeling a little persecuted for forsaking my main man Benjamin Moore.

But it's done. As we were moving the furniture back in, I made a confession to my husband. He was helping me hang this mirror, seen here "before,"



and I said: "You know, this mirror is the real reason I wanted to paint this room navy." (bleached wood on khaki wall = sad beige world. As if it needed explanation).

There was a slightly stunned silence. I had, after all, just painted for three days, culminating in a 2-coat marathon that ended at 1 am.

And then he asked, "How much did this mirror cost?"

And I told him. It was on clearance at Home Goods and cost $29. Except I had a gift card, so I actually didn't pay real money for it.

"And how much did the paint cost?" He asked.

"Well," I said. "Seventy-five dollars. But that's not the point."

And then he looked at me like I had finally, truly, gone insane.

Of course, this is not a simple equation, and in the end I didn't paint an entire room to make a "free" mirror work; it's more that the mirror inspired the next step in the room. We all know that this decorating madness is like dominoes. So I wonder: what was your craziest reason for a major decorating endeavor? Do tell. Please.

And speaking of dominoes, when I finished the room, my four year old walked in and asked, "Mommy, why didn't you paint the ceiling?"

Indeed.

The Original

When we were moving things around in the basement the other day to accommodate the ping pong table, I rediscovered this.


It's the top portion of a hutch that belonged to my grandmother. I believe this was in her living room in the 70s and it strikes me, as people the blogosphere over are papering secretaries with paper just like this, that it is yet another, though less-obvious way that we are influenced by the decade of our youth.



This hutch sat in a room with acres of kelly green wall to wall carpeting, a 10-foot, low slung white sofa flanked by two pairs of white boudoir chairs, gold leaf regency sconces, and little brass and malachite figurines. The adjoining powder room had yellow flock wallpaper and ornate brass fixtures. My grandmother had major style.

We were not exactly allowed in those rooms. They were influential, to say the least. I wish I had a picture, though I suspect it is even better in my memory.

Flashback Fridays: Danika of Gorgeous Shiny Things

As promised, I have another blogger flashing back today. Aren't you glad? I don't know how you could possibly tire of all my reminiscing, but I for one am thrilled to follow someone else down memory lane.



I've already sung the praises of Danika and her blog Gorgeous Shiny Things, and I'm so happy to have her here today. She is a DIY queen, we happen to love all the same lamps (she even has a pair JUST LIKE my genie lamps in this recent flashback, which neither of us has ever seen anywhere else before), and I loved hearing the story behind one of her previous homes. Come along!

Love that space: Salem, MA Carriage House Renovation. 2004-2007

The Vision: Traditional/Industrial

This property is smack in the middle of the historic district and we had a lot of issues with what we could and couldn't do. The exterior had to be exact to original (super traditional/ Federal), the interior not so much. We both wanted an open somewhat urban loft like feel, and believe it or not we actually found some of our inspiration from a Pizzeria Uno's dining experience one night. We liked the exposed brick & more rustic/ industrial feel. My husband collects old signs (he used to be a signmaker), and wanted to incorporate them.

The Elements:

We had to gut the entire space. It was once used to house carriages and horses, and had been used as storage for decades and was pretty rotted out. We kept all the old doors and paneling and reused them throughout the house. We also found a huge bench that was over 10' long inside that I reupholstered in a houndstooth. I still have that today in my kids playroom.

The Huh? Factor:
We went from a 1200 sq. ft condo to 4000 sq ft, which created a lot of scale issues. Our bedroom was ridiculously big, and it always looked naked because we didn't have much furniture.

Also, because it was one big open space I kept repainting areas trying to make it flow. The fireplace wall and fake clock doors that hid the TV got painted many times. The "colorful checkered wall" is a big HUH?

I was also pregnant and working like a mad woman for the majority of my time here, so I didn't have a lot of time for my normal crazy project/decorating mode. Babies and clients came first. We rearranged a lot, my office became the dining room after the second child came... the office moved into the living room, toys started taking over (the biggest drawback to open living). The biggest and best "huh?" was probably the urinal in the downstairs bath.


I wish I had it now with all my boys, seriously a great investment and I hope to get another soon.

The Analysis:
My husband purchased the property to convert to condos. It consisted of a huge brick Federal mansion that had been made into a boarding house and this carriage house out back. Our original intentions were to sell it all, but during the reno we decided we really loved the carriage house and wanted to keep it. I just remember when we moved in thinking "Do we really live here?" It was a very fun and cool space, but after having our second child we decided to move from small city downtown to a more residential neighborhood with a beach a town over.

What Remains:
The big bench, sofas, brown and white rug, club chairs (now slipcovered), dining room table and bed. Most of the signs. We actually have some of the original windows and architectural elements. I hung one over my sofa in my current living room. (blogger note: check it out here!) We hope to use them both as sliding doors for our kitchen pantry when we remodel.

My Two Cents:
Besides being impressed by the enormity of this project, I have to say I love how ahead of the curve Danika was with certain elements, like that bold striped wall. Horizontal stripes like this are EVERYWHERE right now. Well, Danika did it first.

Thanks Danika!

If you haven't already, hop on over to her blog and say hello.