So reading the sunday paper see the home section where someone’s house is celebrated, what a view, great fireplace, kitchen enough to feed the field hands. Seldom, week after week, is there any art on the wall. In the kitchen we see a framed graphic, ‘hot java’ in plaid. Why is this?
Designers don’t much like art except maybe as an accent, something from a catalogue that picks up the metallic thread in the upholstery, but unique pieces of art get out of here. Chrome and glass, leather and tile, find something unobtrusive to blend in, but no distracting, soul-searing renderings, please, messes up the flow, constantly attracting the eye and expanding the consciousness. Fun to try, take your modest little collection of art, say four or five originals, and ask your designer to incorporate them -- such a look you’ll get.
We’re in the business of selling furnishings, not art, and we don’t want individuals expressing their own tastes in our swell design, that’s what they’d say. They want to give your rooms that movie set look so impersonal and difficult to live with, pajamas in a heap the whole room untidy. For those who feather their nest more eclectically, there’s good news. Your collection of art will coordinate and tie together those disparate antiques, odd chairs and yard sale lamps into a cozy little home, one that will be remarked on and remembered by those who visit, and which will prove easier to come back to as years slide by.
Even expensive art is cheap pro-rated over the rest of a lifetime. It can pay back several times over just by making the furniture you have now seem fine for a few more years, and, by the way, questioning your perception, cleaning your windows, providing an anchor for your little boat in a swirling digital sea, such as that. Your neighbors may not get to see your house in the paper, nor will you, but you’ll probably wind up skipping that section anyway.
Designers don’t much like art except maybe as an accent, something from a catalogue that picks up the metallic thread in the upholstery, but unique pieces of art get out of here. Chrome and glass, leather and tile, find something unobtrusive to blend in, but no distracting, soul-searing renderings, please, messes up the flow, constantly attracting the eye and expanding the consciousness. Fun to try, take your modest little collection of art, say four or five originals, and ask your designer to incorporate them -- such a look you’ll get.
We’re in the business of selling furnishings, not art, and we don’t want individuals expressing their own tastes in our swell design, that’s what they’d say. They want to give your rooms that movie set look so impersonal and difficult to live with, pajamas in a heap the whole room untidy. For those who feather their nest more eclectically, there’s good news. Your collection of art will coordinate and tie together those disparate antiques, odd chairs and yard sale lamps into a cozy little home, one that will be remarked on and remembered by those who visit, and which will prove easier to come back to as years slide by.
Even expensive art is cheap pro-rated over the rest of a lifetime. It can pay back several times over just by making the furniture you have now seem fine for a few more years, and, by the way, questioning your perception, cleaning your windows, providing an anchor for your little boat in a swirling digital sea, such as that. Your neighbors may not get to see your house in the paper, nor will you, but you’ll probably wind up skipping that section anyway.
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