Value. What is an “Investment Piece” and Why?

In the design vernacular we keep hearing the term “investment piece.” What makes an investment piece? Is it that you spent more on it than most other purchases? You splurged? You made an unusual purchase that generally costs more than your norm. Sure, makes sense, I get this. Considered to be a focal piece, this seems to be the nod. However, I often feel entirely differently.

 

Investment. An investment in time, emotion, thoughts and beliefs…what type of unusual investment? An “investment piece” is usually a focal point or a piece placed in a position of prominence. It makes sense to identify an “investment piece” as something that is monetarily outside your usual comfort zone – but must it?

Consider that there is also the fact that a piece that hits a chord and is not easily replaced – if at all – is an investment. Seeing an objet d’art, on a folding table at a garage sale or amidst the throngs of a flea market, that catches your eye and is yours for a song – the bargain of the decade, or at least that day, is an emotional investment. It’s not about the money.

This “find” might actually have “cred” in a broad evaluation of appraisal. It might be a tiny Waterford crystal bud vase, like I found at a flea market for two dollars, about 35 years ago. I was just starting out, decorating my world, and it’s cut glistened and caught my eye from a cluttered table of garden tools, electric curlers and all manner of debris.  There was and still is a true value for this type of piece. It is replaceable – not one-of-a-kind, but a lovely piece. Similarly, at garage sale many years later, I spied a sparkle across many tables to discover a large Waterford ship’s decanter clustered with a few other unmarked pieces. Neighbors selling for a friend, they were cautiously asking twenty five dollars – the bargain of the day.

Once, in a consignment store, I came upon an ARS Italian ceramic box for five dollars that, although marked on the bottom, is not so published as to be easily priced. And I don’t care. Too me it is a one-of-a-kind find. It is old. I can’t replace it. I love the colors of the glazes and little pear top, it’s imperfections speak to it’s vintage and made-by-hand quality. It makes me smile.

When I hear people reference things by their monetary value, it strikes a sensitivity in me that is quite emotional. It annoys me. It frustrates me. Perhaps I am too sentimental, too attached to the enjoyment of “things,” but it’s what these things evoke, what they trigger in the form of memories or just spontaneous pleasure. What brings a smile, a tangible joy, is more to the point. It is a treasure.

Pieces with genuine sentimental value, because they have been inherited, reminding the current custodians of who preceded them and cared enough to preserve and pass down…and contrarily the ease with which some can unemotionally and easily part with something that has passed to them. It can be distilled to what one might find beautiful or not, and what speaks to the point – does this bring you joy or is it an onus?

It makes perfect sense that I am in this field. I see what clients have, ask them about what means what, and sometimes even argue in favor of keeping something that was destined for replacement or complete removal. I want to know what brings my clients joy. I want to make sure they don’t miss something they already have. It might just be the context that makes the difference.

Sometimes my clients have a piece – usually large – that they just don’t know how to use. They would like to, but just can’t find the right place. This is when we might consider other uses than the obvious. A bedroom dresser, might become a dining buffet. We change the context and save the piece. It gives new life and appreciation. It is a combination, in some cases, of function and joy. Thinking outside the box.

To have a careless non-attachment to things, that have not cost a relatively unusual amount, frustrates me.  Yes, it can be a good thing, freeing actually. Whereas I am burdened by my sentimentality. The fact that something is disposable merely because it was a “find” or a “bargain” should not make it less valuable – in my estimation. It’s not always about an expense.

It is a similar, yet reverse, process as selecting an item because of its cost or brand as thought that validates it. As though it is the primary reason to make the decision. I prefer to encourage people to find confidence in what they like – not merely a perceived or recognizable value. The result is the uniqueness that makes their world more personal, more individual, more uniquely theirs. It’s a treasure hunt. What is the value?

An “investment piece” should be almost, if not, irreplaceable – not by its cost – but by its unique ability to bring you joy. Have confidence to know it when you see it. It will be the right decision.

 

 

 

Loved Loving Vincent!!!!

Last night was a crystal clear starry starry night as we strolled down the quiet urban sidewalk, between the building facades, on our way to what we soon came to realize was an event we would never forget. Once settled in our seats and after way too many previews, the magic began and we were instantly mesmerized by the millions of brushstrokes of over 100 artists recreating the world immediately before and for a year after the death of Vincent Van Gogh.

There, in a cozy theater downtown, we experienced a wondrous film, Loving Vincent. We embarked on a extraordinary journey and were lost in this fanciful world of brilliant color and bold movement as the movie unfolded with an animation unlike we had ever experienced. It was a though we were watching Van Gogh paint this film. The rough deliberate strokes were actually moving as the scenes unfolded – the scenes were alive with the movement of the animation.

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This remarkable delivery vehicle to convey a portion of Van Gogh’s world brought colors dancing – even screaming – across the screen in familiar swirls, and deliberate marks that were so identifiably his. What the artists were able to accomplish was astonishing. The focal surface of the theater was busy with the seemingly live brushstrokes of Vincent Van Gogh. Borrowing from his actual paintings, the viewer is transported into the world of his interpretation from street scenes where he experienced the corner with the yellow house to capturing individual’s who appeared throughout the film such as The Zouave in his red hat distinctive of his French military service, to the bearded postman, Joseph Roulin, who was so key in the intimate, mysterious and different story line, the expansive scenery of Provence and the intimate details of daily life.

As a true Van Gogh fan, it  was love at first sight – do you remember where you were when first introduced to his magic? Having grown-up in Washington, D.C. I was fortunate to have had family visits and school field trips to the magnificent National Gallery of Art where, upon each visit starting at a very young age, I would scour the gift shop for postcards of my favorite images – taking home with me memories of the beautiful influences that have continued to shape my appreciation for color and composition, balance and light, contrast and context, subject matter and the power of observation. I must credit my  mother and grandmother for instilling in me this awareness of things of beauty and their importance in our lives.

Fast-forward a bit…way back when…dare I admit…when first studying art history in college, the bible was HW Janson’s HISTORY OF ART. A daunting tome filled with the overview of all that is art as we knew it at the time. Van Gogh and his impressionist colleagues were sprinkled throughout latter portion of the book.

There his genius was once again presented to me stirring a wild appreciation for his rebellious disregard for conventional painting styles. He possessed and fed his own passionate, if not desperate, need to apply paint to surfaces, capturing life and telling stories from his unique and insightfully perceptive vantage point.  The Impressionists have always stirred a passion for the boldly colorful, adventuresome, romantic and sensitively sensual expressions of life for me.

Years later my husband and I were fortunate to attend the National Gallery’s exhibit Masterpieces from the Van Gogh Museum Amsterdam.

It was the fall of 1998 and we were thrilled to be walking toward the oh so familiar edifice with great eagerness for what awaited.

The line wrapped the building, but moved along with efficient, orderly procession as the anticipation grew with each forward step.

Inside we purchased the audio tour tapes and, with headsets on, immersed ourselves for the next few hours in the dazzling world of this remarkable artist.

His unique undaunted expression of the scenes, people and details around him, through his own unschooled techniques, was awe-inspiring.

Tormented and tested he discovered his passion and for a very few years carving out an indelible place that will live, breathe and be enjoyed forever.

The people in their joys and sorrows, fashion of the time, landscapes of bountiful beauty, interiors of keenly observed detail all expressed through his sensitive eye and brought to generations of viewers – a priceless gift to the world.

The take-away…embrace bold expression, fear not color in your world, appreciate the details, and go see this film, Loving Vincent, before it leaves a theater near YOU!!!!

The Accidental Art of Beet Paint

This week is a bit spontaneous as it has been a busy one. Lots in the mill so upcoming blogs will have some good fodder. But our anniversary punctuated the center of this last week, on Wednesday night, and I couldn’t resist sharing this delicious coincidence. These splendid short ribs drizzled with a roasted beet root reduction made a sensational presentation. The fresh greens and artful placement of whipped potato dollops with a handsome chunk of juicy, perfection – tender boneless beef atop – all laced with the fabulous fuchsia tumble of tender baby beets and their sassy sauce was an aromatic and visual treat for the senses.

I cut away at the magnificent morsels scraping the gooey beet paint as I went along…

Good ’til the last drop, I hated to be finished. As I ran the edge of my fork over the hot pink cochineal-like residue of all that was left of my delectable dish, the waiter came by to clear and exclaimed- “a heart!” And so it was. An artfully noteworthy finale, to a wonderful evening. Happy Anniversary!

 

Would A Love Letter Be The Same Without Handwriting?

After having seen Federico Leon de la Vega’s presentation at TEDX Talks in September and after having seen some of the work in progress over the past couple of years, it was a treat last week to be in his studio to see the collection exhibited up close and in person!

Presented on fabulously enormous canvases and a few smaller studies, these bold graphic statements compile a contemporary collection that is quite astounding. The premise is quite provocative.

The idea that handwriting is a basic human means of communication having evolved into the very personal flowing script of cursive that each individual can call their own – in their own style – it’s almost as personal as a fingerprint. It is an extraordinary human function that should be protected, revered and certainly not lost to the fast-paced technology of the digital age!

Making one’s mark on a surface…a piece of paper…to convey a thought, idea, instruction, story, a doodle on a paper towel – a love letter.

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With Valentine’s Day approaching, it brings to mind the idea of love letters. We read them throughout literature and listen to them in songs. We hear of them being saved over time by recipients in treasured boxes tied with ribbon to be read over and over or merely saved for others to find long after…

These magnificent oil paintings convey the art of handwriting. They celebrate the simplest marks of hand to canvas with brush and paint looping in circles and jutting in spikes – the primary strokes of handwriting. These primary strokes are the foundation of mastering the control needed to make the continuous flow of letters that become each person’s personal interpretation of the alphabet in cursive style and an exclusive means of communication.

Style – handwriting conveys personal style. Look at yours. Is it always the same or do you mix it up? Do you stay consistent or do you express different styles of your own handwriting for different purposes?  Look at your friend’s handwriting – would you recognize it anywhere?

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It is thrilling to walk among these great canvases with their color and  bold strokes. It is arresting to realize that they are so simple yet so complex in what they are saying. We must recognize the value of handwriting. We must not let it be dropped from our schools’ curriculum. We must continue to see the importance of the pure, mind to hand, raw emotion.

Powerful spikes require starting and stopping – control.

Loose loops also require control to maintain uniformity.

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After control is learned, expression can take over resulting in that personal style that becomes each individual’s identifying handwriting.

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Federico reminds us in his talk, about how we might have attempted to write a love letter for the first time and how many times it was crumpled because it wasn’t quite right. The failed attempts of recording our feelings as we strive to say the right thing, to express our deepest emotions. Yet once accomplished, those words hand-written mean so much more than the same words conveyed by type or digital communications.

“From my heart to my mind, from my mind to my hand, from my hand to the paper I place in your hand,  so you may fold it and keep it near to your heart. No delete!”

The digital world is all around us. We cannot escape it, nor should we. However, the human evolution and the brain’s development that mastered the art of handwriting is a place that could be diminished and lost if we do not continue the art and practice of personal expression through this extraordinary medium.

All we need is love – sent via a personalized handwritten letter from the heart. Here’s to a Happy Valentine’s Day !!!

Oh the Faces! Spanish Market

The sky was grey and the air had a decidedly seasonal still-cool yesterday which called for a cozy indoor activity – offered this weekend in the handsome Hotel Albuquerque, host of the Winter Spanish Market. Yes, the decades old traditional Spanish Market held in Santa Fe outside around the Plaza, on warm summer days in July, has begun a new tradition in Albuquerque in the opposite season indoors. http://www.visitalbuquerque.org/abq365/events/detail/28th-Annual-Winter-Spanish-Market/31793/

The collection of world class artists’ booths beneath the enormous hand-tooled tin chandeliers suspended from the spacious ballroom sparkled with festive illumination and colorful creations.

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A variety of Mariachi bands played to the crowds as the curious and collectors wove in and out of the rows of talented exhibitors.

Fine tin-work, dyed and cut straw assemblies, weavings and jewelry presented an incredible variety of work. Fine crafted furniture and spectacular wall pieces were displayed by master carvers. It was a collection of world-class art and fine craft.

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Crazy interpretations of his beloved traditional retablos are Charlie Carillos commically contemporary interpretations of vintage cars with saints at the wheel. Humor that is received with mixed reviews. But his talent is undisputed. Here he entertains at his booth with his colorful delivery.

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By startling contrast, the rich warm colors and traditional reverence that Catherine Robles-Shaw displays in her incredible carvings and painting techniques, wonderful detail and soulfully expressive faces. Her rich hues are Old World in their sensitivity to tone on tone and dark earthen colors outlined and enhanced with ribbons of gold.

Daughter, Roxanne Shaw-Galindo, a respected santero in her own right has continued to carve her own niche in this exclusive world of bultos, retablos and other manner of fine carving and painting.

The mystic powders carefully sought and gathered from ancient land forms and mineral-rich geology diluted with water and even the precious red of the rare cochineal all contribute to the luminous, translucent colors that read so differently from other media.

And further contrast is Frank  L. Garcia with his primary colors of electric blue, yellow and  red shining off of his wood surfaces. Uplifting and extracting smiles from all who pass his booth.

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Oh the faces!! Each santero has his or her own style.  Like fingerprints, the santeros each have cultivated a unique “look” to their work and expressions of their subjects.  The eyes say so much. Mournful, cheerful, pensive or stony stares, the characters are exclusively their own. Despite the similarities bound by tradition, each artist presents a specifically unique style which conveys incredible personality. These signature expressions, as individual as fingerprints, represent so distinctly each  inimitable artist. Despite the similarities bound by tradition, the methods and materials, each shine with startling individuality!

Here santero Ruben Gallegos poses with Mary Anne Green an avid collector and fond owner of several of Gallegos’ work.

Lee Valdez hunches over his soon-to-be cross carefully carving the rope detail around the edges. Light pencil lines define the decoration that he follows with remarkable precision – and look – he is sporting two pair of glasses stacked atop one another – which he says works just fine.

Behind him displayed on the wall are several other crosses in all manner of carving and decorative woodwork. One piece in particular is a yellow pine cross that is riddled with dark cinnamon colored worm holes – splattered actually – creating a spectacularly natural design. And further marks of nature that Lee captures are a knot hole and adjacent burled wood that he places dead center in the intersection of the cross. The four end pieces are carved from a piece of butternut wood providing the perfect natural contrast to the yellow pine yet complimenting the dark flecks of the worm holes. Quite a find, in this amazing piece of wood he spied in a hardware store, and remarkable sensitivity to isolate and assemble the various pieces to create the whole.

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A striking woman caught my eye. Her thick curly black hair and handsome silver cross strung on a multi-strand necklace of turquoise made a big statement amidst all of the art and drama. Meet Vanessa Baca.

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As we visited briefly I learned that she is a fellow blogger and I am sure it was fate that we met as her foodinbooks.com is a wealth of observations centered around great books and fabulous food within described. She writes with great depth of description and observation AND she breaks it down and teaches you how to prepare that about what you have just read!

Sean Wells painting as we watched, represents her art in her own striking appearance. Dark hair whipped and twisted with a stylish flair and topped with screaming orange flowers.

Wells’ images are equally colorful, happy and festive. If not her fine retablos, You might recognize her Fanciful Day of the Dead wine bottles and famous, collectible Lottery Scratchers! Find her on Etsy!

It was an inspiring day of extraordinary art in a genre that is so historically and regionally rooted with original methods and patient execution paired with the artistic imaginative people who practice and study this fine work. Thanks so much Mary Ann for a rare treat!

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Today YOU can go see this final day of  the 28th Annual Spanish Market 2016! Get over there!

 

Surprise Seasonal Discoveries in the National Gallery of ART

So, in direct contrast to discovering art in unexpected places such as a simple series of brush strokes painted on a course concrete curb, (last week’s pattisays blog) this week, as fall leaves fill the air and pumpkins pop up on every surface, my observations are about discovering art occur in an actual art gallery, specifically the National Gallery of Art in Washington D.C.. Imagine that! The city has been abuzz for months in anticipation of the recent unveiling of the updated East Building.

It was in 1978, the year I left my home town of Washington that I.M. Pei’s exciting new modern edifice was presented to an anxious art-loving public. So very different from the West Building and all others in the historic vicinity, some people were astonished but most were thrilled. This sleek angular sculpture of a building was a statement in and around which to display the growing modern and contemporary collection. An art-piece of its own accord. Yes, the building was at once regarded as its own work of art.  We eagerly raced to touch the famous wedge of geometry that came to such an acute angle that it begged to be touched.

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Nearly 40 years later that same fine edge is silently showing its age missing little chunks of compound and lovingly discolored with all the hands from around the world that have touched and smiled at the towering stone form in contrast to the rotund, ornamented and domed Capital in the background. Both majestically iconic, but stylistically so very different.

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But wait – this elegant aging beauty has had a three year rejuvenation treatment! New stairways and elevators connect galleries making the flow of exhibits more enjoyable. The tunnel connecting East to West sparkles with light and all the subtle changes result in a seamless passage through and enhanced experience for visitors.

The glassy, crisp, stark, expansive lobby where the enormous Calder mobile is suspended defying its enormity and weight as it gracefully, almost motionlessly, moves silently with the subtle, indiscernible stirring of air is the fulcrum of the building. Exhibit halls tucked away but newly connected are exciting to frequent visitors who know the building so well.

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I naturally had to have a little fun and in keeping with the season made a couple of entertaining discoveries. Here Four Square and oil on Canvas by Franz Kline in 1956 is noted by The Art Story/Modern Art Insight “a fine example of  his gestural approach to painting. The viewer is led to ponder the canvas, seeing as either a close-up of a linguistic symbol, or perhaps, a set of open windows.”

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Really? Linguistic symbol or a set of windows? Well, maybe it’s the season…but I instantly saw a cat – a crazy black cat, an abstraction of James Dean’s “Pete” perhaps, which made me want a mask and to be that crazy cat and prance about for Halloween!

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In another piece, Portage, by William Kentridge of South Africa born in my birth year of 1955, a folded accordion-like book with torn  black figures of paper affixed to encyclopedia pages resulted in my seeing another black cat! I do think it was of human figures bearing weight, carrying, moving through various poses. Call me Halloweeny – but this one was decidedly a black cat. Don’t YOU think?

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It was fabulous, exciting, fun and emotional to see the colorful Matisse cut-outs once again in such close proximity with Matisse’s placement marks and rough cut pieces – crude yet refined – rough yet lovely. Seeing these incredible compositions up close again is breath-taking.

Oh, and might this be another seasonal mask?

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From awestruck to silly…to a quiet reverence at coming to the black and white photo of this enormous piece in Hotel Regina in Nice in 1953!!  Seeing it in the setting of its day and captured in a photo all those many years ago was one of many moments of reverence.

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Once again, pay attention to the little things, be surprised, let yourself be amused and enjoy discovering art wherever you might find it – unexpected and very much expected places!