Visual junkie's collections inspire daily blog
DECOR Visual junkie's well-curated stockpile inspires daily blog
There's a trendy word swirling around the media these days that one might be tempted to use to describe San Francisco artist Lisa Congdon's latest project: hoarding.
Blame it on her blog, "A Collection a Day, 2010" (collectionaday2010.blogspot.com), which documents her stockpiles of vintage ephemera, school supplies and kitchen enamelware, among many other things. One photographed or illustrated assemblage will be posted on the site daily for an entire year. That's 365 collections amassed over two decades, countless trips to flea markets and thrift stores, and a slew of bequests from family, friends and strangers.
Now one-third of the way into the exercise, Congdon, a Los Gatos native and former elementary-school teacher, has showcased such miscellany as pink erasers, seashells, Aubrey Beardsley matchboxes, plastic animal charms, midcentury paperback novels, vintage bobbins and German stamps. Suddenly the label doesn't seem so far-fetched.
"If people want to call me a hoarder because they think it's funny, that's OK with me," Congdon, 42, says. "I have a good sense of humor about myself."
Despite being a collector of hundreds of collections, Congdon's Mission District apartment - which she shares with her partner, Clay Walsh; Chihuahua, Wilfredo; and cats, Barry and Margaret - doesn't show signs of clutter, much less the overwhelming, immovable piles of junk that typify actual hoarders' homes.
"I live in a totally normal and clean place," says Congdon, who meticulously organizes her collections in drawers, cubicles and shelves in both her home and nearby studio, where she creates her illustrations and mixed-media works. "You'll see lots of interesting things, but you certainly won't have a problem moving around."
It's true, the midcentury-inspired 900-square-foot dwelling is refreshingly neat, literally and figuratively. Congdon credits her idol, Jonathan Adler, as well as design blogs Design*Sponge, SFGirlByBay and PoppyTalk with providing inspiration for her kaleidoscopic showcase of adored treasures.
Recalling school days
The 10 miniature globes, for example - the ones opposite the mosaic of tiny sepia-toned portraits in the home office/master bedroom - are especially meaningful. Congdon began her now-celebrated collection of collections with a few globes and outdated textbooks she inherited from a retiring schoolteacher. As a matter of course, school supplies spark the most response on the blog.
"I think they trigger a nostalgia that everyone can relate to," Congdon says. "Not everyone cooks, not everyone sews, but most everyone has gone to school and has memories of globes, flash cards and pencil sharpeners."
In the kitchen, where she and Walsh spend a lot of time upping the ante on their vegan repertoire, Congdon has balanced the more pedestrian Home Depot cabinets and generic countertops (both courtesy of a pre-Congdon quick-flip job) with troves of delightful vintage Cathrineholm and Dansk enamelware in happy reds, oranges, blues and yellows, midcentury Takahashi salt and pepper shakers, and a particularly fetching array of wall-mounted dishes. This widely admired display includes a piece of Grand Marnier marketing propaganda, a thrift-store ashtray, a Thomas Paul melamine silhouette, and pieces by Congdon's best friend, local ceramicist Diana Fayt.
"I really cherish all the pieces gifted to me by my artist friends," Congdon says. She expertly curates artwork both in her home and at Rare Device, the Upper Market gallery-shop she co-owns with business partner, Rena Tom.
Array of artists
A large canvas by San Diego painter Mike Maxwell occupies a solitary space between the rust-colored love seat and yellow-green ceilings in Congdon's living room, while works by Swedish illustrator Camilla Engman and artist Gustavo Martinez are nested, alongside "E" signage cast-offs, in a swarming arrangement of framed artwork above the Kofod-Larsen credenza. "E is for my full name, Elisabeth," Congdon says. "I like the look of 'E' better than 'L.' "
Midcentury design tomes, orange pottery and 1970s ceramic owls bequeathed by Congdon's mother populate the living room shelves, along with one particularly prized, slightly creepy corral of transparent (in the insect-larvae sense of the word) celluloid reindeer figurines. "They're really easy to break and super-hard to find," whispers Congdon, as if any loud noise would shatter the delicate creatures. They're the cherry on top of her embarrassment-of-riches sundae.
Luxury or necessity?
Which raises the question: Are these collections an indulgence or a necessity?
"An indulgence, for sure," Congdon quickly says. "I mean, it's just stuff, right? Everyone can live without stuff."
The artist then pauses on her response and bites her lip. Clearly, a retraction was in the works. "I love having beautiful things in my house," she says. "I get a lot of inspiration for my work through objects - not just possessing them, but appreciating their design and their history. As a visual junkie, I need them."