Category: Antiques
Scrounged Beauty: The Opening
Here we are the day of our show opening, stopping by for a final sneak peek since we hadn’t yet seen our scrounged letters hanging above the word beauty. We loved it. We spent the day tromping all over Astoria, took a short rest, then returned at 5:00 to celebrate our opening for the rest of the evening.
Final formal photos of Stephanie and me.
Once the guests began to arrive, it was a riot of activity, laughter, fun, chatter, music, visiting, drinking, eating, and general merriment as people came and went, lingered, wandered, stopped back for another look and chat. Stephanie and I were blown away by how many of our friends drove from out of town: Seattle, Salem, Portland, and Albany.
After the last guest drifted away, a group of friends joined us for dinner across the street at Fulio’s and we lingered late into the evening, basking in the afterglow of a successful show and opening party.
Scrounged Beauty
Years of Collecting
After years of being junking partners, my friend Stephanie Brockway and I are doing a show together at RiverSea Gallery in Astoria. Both of us have shown our work at RiverSea for years, and Stephanie had a solo show there a couple of years ago. I show paintings, she shows a combination of paintings and outsider folk art. Scrounged Beauty is found object art, highlighting the best of our collections of found objects, and as some would say, junk.
Months of Auditioning
I spent months pulling things out of drawers, bins, bowls, and trays, choosing which pieces to try out on various pieces of reclaimed wood and prepared boards.
Weeks of Connecting, Titling, Signing, and Photographing
A Day of Hanging
Okay, Colin actually did the hanging, while Steph and I gallivanted around Astoria.
A Sampling of My Pieces (out of 42 I have in the show!)
THE SHOW
If anyone had ever told me I would get to the Pasadena Rose Bowl Flea Market . . . .
. . . . I would not have believed them. But it happened last Sunday.
We were on vacation in Los Angles last week to see an uncle, visit museums, art galleries, and just do some general tromping about. The sites we wanted to visit were divided by neighborhoods to minimize the time spent in the car. On a whim, right before we left for the airport, I googled “flea markets.” The Pasadena Rose Bowl Flea Market, of course, popped up. It is held one Sunday of the month. Guess which Sunday it was being held? (Insert gasping and hyperventilating.)
We arrived early (they have different entrance times and prices, we were there by 8:00 am), got our bearings, and set off for the Orange Area: Antiques and Collectibles. This was important because there are 2,500 booths, so we needed to narrow our focus.
My focus for the market was black and white photos, paper debris, and any sort of ephemera; I rounded up a smattering of everything.But the mother lode was a scrapbook I saw, walked away, then had to go back and purchase.
The scrapbook belonged to Virginia Anita Bugg, and chronicled her early 1930s high school experience on through getting engaged and married. The scrapbook was crammed and crumbly, so when I got home I carefully deconstructed each page into categories: letters, photos, gum wrappers, menus, ticket stubs, dance cards . . . . I even discovered a smashed celluloid doll toward the back. Take a look:
The deconstruction:
I’ve already integrated the pieces into my studio and I’m looking forward to creating new lives with the remnants of Virginia’s life.
Back to the Flea Market, some photos of roaming about.
And the rest of my bounty:
Janet’s Old Cedar Chest
I walked right by the old chest dozens of times over the years. Most likely it had things stacked on top of it and I never realized what was holding up all the stacks of magazines and old boxes. About a year ago, my father-in-law had a stroke and while he was recuperating in a rehab facility, Howard and I went to the basement of Howard’s childhood home in NE Portland. We’d been downstairs many times over the past forty years, but usually just to drop some stuff off for storage. This time, the chest caught my eye, probably because there was nothing stacked on top of it. I lifted the lid and my breath caught; it was filled with things Howard’s mom had saved. Janet passed away 13 years ago, but even all the years she was alive, we never realized she had saved her treasures in this old trunk. I didn’t pull much out, other than a few things on the top, but quickly realized this was an excavation to be savored.
Several months ago when our adult kids were home, we visited Grandpa Tom. I pulled Howard aside and said, “I’d sure like to get that old chest loaded into the car while we have healthy backs to help carry it up the stairs.” Howard told his dad we were taking the chest and lickety split it was in the car. We got it home and put it in the garage. For some reason I didn’t immediately tear into it. I wanted to wait for the right time, when I could enjoy the process of peeling back the layers.
That day happened a couple months ago when my friend Tory had dropped me off after one of our outings. She knew I had the chest, she wasn’t in a hurry, and it felt like the right time. We slowly began to remove the pieces that were important to Janet. A wedding dress that belonged to Janet’s mother, bundles of letters, an old shower curtain(!), baby outfits, photographs, newspaper clippings . . . . the detritus of a life well-lived.
As we neared the bottom of the chest, I spied a pair of eyes peeking out of loosely bound tissue paper. Could it be? Janet’s childhood doll? I could barely contain myself. I was so excited, I just climbed right into the chest and unwrapped the doll. She was stuffed with straw and had no hair and marked the perfect ending to a chest full of clues of how Janet lived and loved.
Later, after leisurely going through the stacks of ephemera, Howard pulled out what he wanted to keep and I took what was left to my art studio at Mission Mill to use in my mixed media project, What’s Your Story: Real or Imagined.
Funky Junkyard Birds: Light As Air
About once a year, I create a batch of my Funky Junkyard Birds. They take a couple of months from start to finish, so I make two to three dozen when I made them and they usually last through a year of selling them.
I’ve just completed 33, the most I’ve ever done at one time.
The Back-Story
In October, 2010, I took a class from Leighanna Light called Birds Gone Wild. In the class we cut up metal tins and attached aged, metal parts. I loved my bird and wanted to make more. I wrote Leighanna and asked if she was okay if I made metal birds and sold them; Leighanna gave me her blessing and I started making batches of birds, calling them Funky Junkyard Birds. (Leighanna still teaches her Birds Gone Wild class if you’re interested in learning how to make them yourself.)
Over time, my birds morphed and got more complicated from my initial ones; they got fancier and I attached more flamboyant wings; I started dangling more metal pieces from beaks and legs. I also devised a way to cover the cold connections on the back of the birds (i.e., the brads), using pieces of decorative paper Washi tape.
The Creation Process
First, I spend several hours cutting out bird parts: wings, heads, pants, shirts. This involves flattening vintage metal tins, cutting, and sanding the razor sharp edges.
Then the auditions begin. I pull out various found objects that might serve as a body, then try out different heads. A persona begins to take shape, pants or legs might be adding, then an array of wings are considered, balancing shape, color, and design. A personality begins to emerge.
Once the birds are completely designed, it is time for attachments to begin. Holes are punched or drilled into all of the pieces, glued with E6000, and clamped over night. The next day the clamps are removed and all of the cold connections are made using brads, wire, or eyelets.
Part of the auditioning of each bird is determining what the bird will hang from: a ruler, a saw blade, a piece of interesting wood. The whole process is repeated for the hanging piece: holes drilled, glued, clamped, attached. Wire is then added to the hanger, forming a nice arch for eventual hanging on the wall.
Once all the cold connections have been made, I apply Washi tape to the back of the birds, covering the brads. A bit of matte medium is applied to hold the tape in place. At this point, the birds are almost finished. I talk to each bird individually (not literally!): What do you need? What will make you special? Keys are sometimes dangled as legs. Often a wheel is attached to give the bird a sense of motion. I go through my random, one-of-a-kind pieces of metal, looking for something unique to attach to a leg or the belly; these pieces are wired on and scream: LOOK AT ME!
The final step in assembly is adding a piece of torn, ragged silk or sari ribbon to soften all of the hard metal edges.
Finished? Not yet. Each bird gets a name. I Google unusual baby names to see what is trending and pick out a few dozen names. I especially like androgynous names to keep the birds gender neutral, however, sometimes I just know it is a boy or a girl, and their name reflects this.
Assembled, named, photographed. The gang is ready to meet the world.
And a few are ready for their close ups.
The Debut
A couple dozen of my new birds will be going to Compass Gallery for our February show, Light As Air. The show hangs on Thursday and I’m excited about hanging the birds from wires strung across the wall. About six of the birds will be headed to Guardino Gallery in Portland for sale in their Gift Shop gallery. Whew. Maybe by January of 2017 I’ll be ready to create a new batch.
Frozen in Time
I’ve always wondered what it would be like to enter a house that had been frozen in time and be able to sort through all of the detritus of a former life. Well, over the weekend I had an opportunity to sort through a garage that had been buried by time – about 50 years worth.
Howard’s father finally asked for some help in cleaning out his garage/shop. Last weekend, armed with gloves and boxes, we tackled the piles. Tom, who is 92, watched from the sidelines while Howard, Alex (his niece’s son), and myself began to drag stuff out.
The dragging continued all day.
Until we finally reached the back of the shop.
We ended up with a pile of scrap metal.
After five trailer loads of stuff to the dump (and more yet to go), we loaded the trailer with all of the hazardous materials and old paint (and several jugs of unidentified liquids).
What all did we find? Well, things had been buried for 50 years, things Howard remembered from his childhood, and some things Howard didn’t remember ever seeing. It was a walk back in time.
I’ve saved the best for last. While we cleaned and sorted, I was filling boxes with things that I could use in my art and in my Curious Elements. In a box of rags, I even found an old quilt.
When I got home, I began to sort through all of the treasures. My sister asked during the process was I feeling overwhelmed or verklempt*. Verklempt, definitely verklempt. (*choked with emotion)
PS Since we were using Tom’s truck and trailer, when he needed to run an errand, he hopped in his old Model A and tootled off to the store.
Here’s the work crew: Alex, Howard, and Tom
Did I mention that Tom has a garage in North Plains where he works on his old cars? That’s next to get cleaned out.
Studio Revamp
I have two studios. The upstairs one is my painting studio, the basement one is my assemblage studio (aka junk shop). We moved into our new house (it’s an old house, 1926 era, but new to us) about 16 months ago, which allowed me to close down my one-bedroom house studio and bring everything home. Even with two studios in our new house, it wasn’t easy to consolidate everything from an entire house and put it into two spaces.
In December of 2012 I packed, sorted, boxed, donated, and sold all sorts of studio items. The former studio was filled to the brim – every room was mine to fill as I pleased: kitchen, living room, bedroom, bathroom, laundry room, and a tacked on shed (and the back yard, too). It was a herculean task and I couldn’t have done it without the help of friends.
Then what was boxed, needed to be put away.
It was overwhelming, but two friends came to the rescue. Sam helped moved all the boxes and Tory helped put it away.
I’m a pretty organized person, so I put most of the assemblage bits in the basement, but I also put a lot of it upstairs in my painting studio. Over the past year I’ve worked on my Curious Elements and Funky Junkyard Birds in the basement, but I was constantly running upstairs to my painting studio to comb through the bits I had put up there. And then when I was painting in the upstairs studio, I was beginning to feel claustrophobic with all the junk surrounding me.Two weeks ago I realized it was time to reorganize and move the last of the little bits to the basement and clear out some of the clutter (but not the shelves that Tory lovingly filled with my fun treasures).
After a full day of moving stuff out of my painting studio, this is how it looked:
But, I had made a huge mess in the basement that had to wait until this week to remedy.
It took two days to get the basement space reorganized and tidied up. But it was worth it.
I love studio shots, so here are a few close-ups from the basement.
Now I need to go get to work.
Junkin’ and Jivin’
I haven’t posted about a junking expedition in a long time and since I discovered three wonderful vintage shops and I’m feeling generous, I’m going to share these little gems, all located east of Portland.
This is actually a compound of buildings featuring antiques, collectibles, and vintage treasures. It is located at 664 NW Wade Street in Estacada. The owner, Dyan, knows my good friend Bobbie! Small world. Dyan just opened her store in June, so it is brand new and filled to the brim with good things.
This is another relatively new shop and is located in downtown Gresham. Cute street, cute shop. The proprietor is Todd, who went to the same grade school as Howard (Harvey Scott, in case you are curious).
Our final discovery was also in Gresham. This shop is run by Sonja, who used to be a vendor at Stars and currently has a booth at Monticello, two of my favorite antique malls in Portland.
Final Thoughts
It is definitely worth a drive east out of Portland. Beautiful scenery, nice shops. And yes, I did make a few purchases (including the pink chair in the first photo).