Recent Aquisitions: Poetry & a brand new Atari 2600

Charles Simic was a professor at the college I attended and though I passed him many times in the building I never had the opportunity to take a class with him. At the time I was going through the standard late teens/early twenties beat/Bukowski obsession and the thought of investigating Simic further never occurred to me even as my classmates and friends were raving about him.
Recently a friend loaned me "A Fly In My Soup;" Simic's memoir's of his childhood in Serbia, his family's immigration to America & his twenties as a young poet and a military officer. I have refused to read the last page for fear of finishing the book which I've enjoyed so enormously.
Simic's poetry is a lot like the art of Joseph Cornell - whose work Simic admires and has written for. Both are locked up tight in symbolism yet the preciousness of each figure and the personal meaning held within is apparent. The layered depth of his work yields immense detail and meaning.


So, what's better than a Salvation Army that separates its books like a real bookstore would? The poetry section yielded these two gems. The design for the Cummings cover is amazing & I had a feeling that the Simic would be signed and it was:






In the early eighties Atari branded these "The Best Christmas Gift Ever" but apparently someone didn't think so because this one was never removed from the box.

Recent acquisitions

$6.99 and I walked out with a lifetime's worth of sewing supplies. The sad thing about this perfect little time capsule is that someone had to die for me to acquire it. Someone assembled this stuff and kept it in an attractive tackle box only for me to purchase it, stare at it and then give it as a Christmas gift. There's so much personality in a little box like this; a perfect tribute to its anonymous ex-owner. I'm pretty sure I could put together a vague personality composite based on the content of the box and the way it's arranged.
I love the thread in the Cool Whip.
Keeping stuff in Cool Whip containers is sooooooo 80's.







The last word in home security or a good place to keep "stuff."

Looking back at a material past (3)

This generic Dutch credenza came from a two floor junk shop in upstate NY. I think I paid about $40 for it and it fit perfectly into the back of my Volvo 245. What is most significant about it is the ex-con fantasy airbrusher who sold and worked out of the basement of the junk shop that the credenza came from. Proudly displayed and available for purchase were bikini ladies with contorted bodies, unnatural skin & machine guns. He airbrushed giant saw blades with tigers bathing in waterfalls and mounted the blades to table legs making the ugliest and most dangerous table you've ever seen. My favorite might have been the Budweiser lab coat.




For a couple weeks I was finding everything I wanted. First I found the Albers print which was too good to be true - as if someone had donated it just so I could find it. Then this set......
Broyhill makes exclusively ugly furniture - with the exception of this Raymony Loewy dresser and side table set. I'm not sure if they licensed the plastic drawer fronts from Loewy or if they just ripped them off and hoped for the best. Either way, when I saw this from across the furniture section of the store I loudly proclaimed my excitement and sprinted as if everyone in the store had their eye on it too. I was almost breathless when I brought the tag to the counter.




I can hardly remember where this chair came from. I suspect it was free on the side of the road and since then I've seen a couple more of them. There's even one at a local gas station sitting out in the rain. I'm pretty sure that these were standard office furniture at some point in time and probably inexpensive furniture at that. However, it's design rivals the best of them. On par w/ the Aluminum Group in terms of style though this one has a unique Bauhaus look to it (or maybe that Gerrit Rietveld chair) with its perfectly square frame and floating back seat. The wood adds a nice natural touch to the arms.
This guy has a company tag from Air Traffic Control Systems in Ohio.




This etching was $10 or $15 at a local group shop. It's hard to tell if it was used to print or not but it's been painted to give it some depth. Who knows. Etched into it is the year 1966 and the initials T.T.





Mr. Zzyzzx has long been the overlord of our household. This Hal-like omniscient robo-man will answer your "yes or no type questions" if you pass your hand over his head a couple of times after asking. He's got about 10 or 20 responses but then every few months you'll hear one that you've never heard before. He even predicted the birth of our first child. In a lot of ways he is my first child, or maybe my father. Either way, I totally fear and respect him. As should you.

Looking back at a material past (2)

Vinette Varvard painted this treasure in 1951. In 2003 I noticed her peeking out of a dumpster in the driveway of a house that was being renovated. The woman in the painting has a ghostly bend as she rises up from the frame and the deep look of melancholy in her eyes is both stirring and soothing. Vinette really nailed the bangs.
Who was Vinette Varvard? I'd love to know.





Silver Dollar by Margaret F. Ludwig. Artists Proof.
Purchased for $3 this was found at an amazing Salvation Army that has since closed because they couldn't afford the rent. I'm pretty sure that the ladies who ran the place were skimming off the register since they never closed the drawer and would rarely punch in a transaction.
This is a heavy duty wood block print.






I'm still shocked at this basement bin Salvation Army discovery. A brilliant early sixties French collection of Concrete Music.
A:
Iannis Xenakis "Diamorphoses"
Luc Ferrari "Etude Aux Sons Tedus"
Michel Philippot "Ambiance I"
B:
Henri Sauguet "Aspect Sentimental"
Pierre Schaeffer "Etude Aux Sons Animes"
Luc Ferrari "Edute Aux Accidents"
Pierre Schaeffer "Etude Aux Allures"







Don Armando's Second Street Rumba Band
"I'm An Indian Too"
Signed original Ze pressing.
Another thrift shop bin shocker. Signed with a note to Danny & Shelly by Fonda Rae
1979 release
of an Erving Berlin track originally sung by Ethel Merman.

Check out this sweet jam on YouTube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gZEZPs06Sgw

Looking back at a material past:

This vibrant orange fiberglass shell chair Herman Miller knock off still has a Haverhill Gas Company tag indicating that the Haverhill Gas Company was too cheap to purchase an actual Eames chair. Despite it's lack of brand name appeal it is every bit as firm and of moderate comfort as the chair it so splendidly emulates.





Signed WD and purchased for $2 at a Jr. High School indoor yardsale. After endless tables of roller blades, video games and various generic middle class detritus this gem appeared hovering on the wall by the exit (which I was hurrying towards) like a Rockwell Kent oil in a Thomas Kinkade gallery. With only WD to go by it's unlikely that the painter will ever be determined. As a drunken houseguest recently exclaimed "It's got at least $30 worth of paint on it."






Polaroid, at least in the Land Camera, had absolutely stunning graphic design. The Land Camera manuals, cameras & packaging were a perfect example of the total beauty of simplicity. Though Land Camera's are as common as Sing Along With Mitch Mitchell records I can't resist buying every single one I find and this one was unloaded from a mini-van while hoards of early morning vultures swarmed the boxes at a local flea market. I paid $5 and it's probably worth even less - but a stunning artifact of design and a great camera. Thankfully Fuji is making film for it now that Polaroid is no longer.








Do you know anything about Amy Brenton or a company called Danalco? Ebay searches for Danalco typically yield socks but I've managed to find a couple of these locally for $1 each. Amy Brenton painted these killer butterflies that were then printed translucently on glass. Of course, butterflies totally rule but typically anything you see with a butterfly on it is the pinnacle of ugly made for the puffy print sweatshirt set. The translucentness of these give the wonderfully scientific illustrations life and depth.






For the longest time I had no idea who painted this framed Glacier Bay print that came out of a crowded group shop though I spent a lot of time staring at it and trying to find info on the interwebs. Recently a friend noticed it and recalled seeing something about the artist on idiot box. Turns out, it's Charles Harper and his rate of productivity is only rivaled by Merbow - a good thing of course. Haper passed away in 2007 but there are so many signed screen prints in circulation that one can be easily purchased for under $300.
His subjects were exclusively natural though his approach has the vectored firmness of digital with the depth of the human hand. Harper called his style "minimal realism" and like Amy Brenton (above) he combined taste and style with a deep love for the natural world. Sorry for the glare.






More proof that packaging design these days is, ultimately, tasteless. This nice bold print with it's minimal approach is inviting and makes me want to practice my swing. If this was a modern product there'd probably be photographs of various tennis players in intense positions with tons of text randomly placed around the package making vague promises in regards to your skill. It's even still got a Lechemere price tag of $6.99 on it. I can't resist something in original packaging from the sixties and seventies regardless of how little I need the product inside.






Sweet packaging + holiday decorations half off = fire hazard purchased.
Often I toil with the duality of buying treasures like these. On one hand there's absolutely no rational reason why I need to take them home. On the other hand, it's kind of a treasure since most of these are long gone - let alone in their original packaging. Typically I'm overwhelmed by the enchanting item and compelled to make the purchase. The gems are marvelled at and some make it while others are cast off into the barn to sit alongside the framed carnival Crue poster, an Elvis mirror and a vast collection of free roadside Schwinns. These may actually get hung outside next year to tell the world that white lights came and went in the nineties.






This is the second set of these I've had. The first set, which didn't include the huge bowl, was slowly smashed over the period of 3 years in various household glass tragedies. When the last one broke I thought I'd seen the last of them. $3 later I had a complete set. Check out the font. It makes me yearn for popcorn. Stove top. Not that microwave garbage that's going to give your greasy fingers cancer. The big bowl doesn't look that big in the photo but trust me, you couldn't finish it even if you were watching Half Baked fully baked.







Who cares if it's lead paint. It's got Pac-Man on it. 50 cents well spent.







I was going to pick up burritos when I spotted this on the side of the road. I was initially attracted to its mid-century Danish modern look (minus the ugly brass footings). When I looked inside the glass top I realised I'd found something even better. This is some sort of chemical manufacturing facility in miniature. Last summer a plant fell on it smashing the glass and much of the model. Out of respect for whoever made it I painstakingly glued it all back together using a photograph I'd taken of it pre-smash. I felt like a Civil War reenactor. Sure I didn't build it but it's close enough.





A bust for a dollar? I'll pay every time.







For $2 I was able to purchase what probably required a few thousand dollar donation to acquire first hand. This bolt is from the original analog PBS tower that broadcast to a young me hours and hours of Sesame Street, Mr. Rogers & 3-2-1 Contact (promptly followed by the ultimate elementary school buzz kill - the McNeil Lehrer News Hour). WGBH replaced the tower with a digital tower and whoever donated enough to get this didn't care enough to keep it.







These tiny little tourist dishes are an exercise in practical uselessness. What are you supposed to put in them? I guess you're not supposed to think so reasonably when your intoxicated by the remarkable nature of Niagara Falls, The Hoover Damn, something to do with Playboy or a meeting of the local Masons. Gift shop uselessness is a bargain at fifty cents.







Owls have been on the edge of extinction lately after total mass hipster consumption. I'm keeping mine safely locked away in my domestic habitat.






This was one of those crazy scores that I could never have anticipated. I saw this behind the counter at a local Salvation Army. The woman who is firmly planted behind the counter spends a lot of her day joking with her horde of helpers (brain injured & incarcerated typically) and picking through the donations hoping for a digital camera. She's got a policy of not selling anything from behind the counter but I flashed a $20 and that was all it took. It appears to be a screen print - maybe an original exhibit print? Totally fated to me by the powers that aren't.