Serendipity

The wonderful thing about art is how it impacts you, both inspiring memories and creating them. This art pottery is a perfect example: the serendipity of friendships and the memories that flit off from there. The piece immediately made me think of my mother, Barbara F. Humphrey (1928-2021), as she loved Scandinavian design, and taught me a great deal about appreciating artistry in many forms.

Mom loved beautifully-made items, and would joke she inherited this from her mother. She said my grandmother, Frieda H. Fallon (1898-1961) had “champagne taste with a beer pocketbook”. Mom also had expensive taste, but she was a Depression child, and while she loved - and could afford – beautiful things, she couldn’t get away from her thrifty ways. Mom did all the decorating of our homes, painting and hanging wallpaper with my father. She scoured thrift stores and resale spots for treasures (sound familiar?!), and learned how to refinish old furniture, some of which I still have. One little dresser she picked up in Pittsburgh, telling my hubby she would refinish it for him. After she was done, she decided to keep it, and hubby was salty about that for years, often joking it was “his”. When we moved Mom in 2011, hubby finally got “his” dresser and he uses it as his nightstand.

My parents traveled a great deal, and Mom would bring empty suitcases with her on trips to countries famous for their yarns (England, New Zealand, Scandinavia). Mom also adored fabrics, and I took many trips with her to wonderful fabric sources during my childhood. Even though she had the means to purchase fancy outfits, she would sew or knit them herself, and I honestly do not think I wore a store purchased dress until my sister’s wedding in 1980. She even knit my first communion dress and sewed my high school graduation outfit, using a Ralph Lauren prairie outfit pattern from the early 1980s (I still have that one though god knows it wouldn’t fit a flea). The fabrics from Marimekko, a Finnish textile company, were a favorite of hers, and she picked them up for years for sewing projects. I will have to look for photos of Mom in her 1970s Marimekko dresses as I can picture them in my mind.

Mom also loved the streamlined look of Scandinavian design. We had Dansk kitchenware and various teak furniture, including our kitchen chairs. A Nanna Ditzel teak highchair. An original Eames chair with its black leather and rosewood frame. My father used that chair for most of my childhood, giving it to a sister when my parents moved to Florida in the 1990s.

When Mom moved into an assisted living property back in 2011, she still had the Ditzel high chair she purchased for my brother, her youngest child. She insisted I take it. Sadly, I had no use for it as my children were grown, and I knew better than to think my children would allow grandchildren to sit in it – not particularly “safe” by modern standards. I sold the thing, though I cannot say I wasn’t tempted to keep it. Mom loved these designs, and as I have thrifted, I have been drawn to similar pieces. I found a set of 6 teak chairs not long ago, and sold them for a significant profit. Danish by Poul Volther for Rojle Frem from the 1960s. The woman buying them was likely an antique dealer, selling them in turn for even more money.  I would have kept them, but the chairs were a good 2” shorter than modern table chairs, making them a tad impractical.

I also have found a number of lovely pieces of pottery (see blogs ericas-heirloom-treasures/letting-go and ericas-heirloom-treasures/the-warmth-of-clay) and, through those treasures, reconnected with a dear climbing friend who I will call Elsa. Elsa is originally from Sweden, and we met climbing at a local facility around 25 years ago. While we have drifted apart as time and lives have changed, it has been a remarkably lovely process to reconnect. Elsa reads my blogs, and was gob smacked I found a highly collectible Lisa Larson sculpture for $16. She had a small piece made by Lisa Larson and was excited to see the one I found. Soon thereafter I found a piece by another Swedish artist Johan Krukmakare, a name that actually means “potter” in Swedish. I had written that I thought it was simply a designation, but she said it is an actual surname in Sweden, and Johan was a potter named Potter!

I shared an estate sale listing with Elsa back in October, as the sale had a remarkable piece I coveted. The weekend of the sale I was with my brand-new granddaughter, and wondered if Elsa would attend the sale. Elsa wasn’t able to attend either, as she had family in town, and her reply was an emoji “ 💸 “ as these pieces are highly collectible, selling for well over $1000. We both sighed over the charm and moved on, enjoying our connections with family young and old.

The piece we coveted was made by a Danish artist, Bjorn Wiinblad (1918-2006), in the 1970s or 1980s. These works are known as his Eva Series, and there a numerous versions in different colorways. Wiinblad was born into a political family, and from a young age was interested in art. His father, not keen on art as a career, had him study typesetting, though he never actually became a typesetter. He rose in the art world during the post-WWII era in Denmark, when there was “a minimalist approach, prioritizing simplicity and functionality. This led to the birth of a new design aesthetic characterized by clean lines and minimalist forms, marking a distinct departure from the heavy, ornate furniture that preceded it” (https://www.relaxhouse.com.au/blog/history-of-danish-furniture-how-it-all-began/). He was exceedingly successful, becoming both famous and wealthy in his lifetime. His pieces are in many museums and are highly collectible.

Needless to say, Wiinblad’s works are far from minimalist in style. In fact, he intended his works to counterbalance all that streamlined esthetic, and loved to incorporate natural elements, bright colors and whimsy. He was a prolific creator, working in ceramics, theater sets and costumes, puzzles, tiles, textiles as well as drawn works. As the Nordica Museum stated for their retrospective show of his work in 2018: “with a career beginning in 1945 amidst the enduringly popular “Danish modern” design movement, Wiinblad injected fantasy and an almost cartoonish flair that created a perfect accent to all the clean-lined furniture and modernist spaces of the time” (https://nordicmuseum.org/exhibitions/the-whimsical-world-of-bjrn-wiinblad).

Imagine my surprise this week when I received a text from another good friend, who I will call Ariel. Ariel was in southern Illinois visiting family and sent me a photo with a comment saying “if I was going to buy you a Christmas present from Denmark”.

I was a tad confused, but after some back and forth, it turns out the piece she sent a photo of was at a local antique store. It had been donated to a charity, and they in turn asked the antique store to sell it. Ariel knew how much I love art, but the pink color and charming female figure immediately made her think of me. While the list price wasn’t awful, given their value, I threw out a lower bid and they accepted! She now sits watching me in my dining room as I type, filled with a silk flower crown I created from thrifted flowers. Elsa, who happens to be in Sweden visiting family, sent a photo of the one her family owns, and we both smiled at the creative genius of these pieces which brighten our days. I will treasure Eva both for her charm and for the serendipity of her connection with friends.