prov-e-nance \ˈpräv-nən(t)s, ˈprä-və-ˌnän(t)s\
noun. the place of origin or earliest known history of something.

This month over at my Provenance column on Krista & Tami’s blog Cloth & Kind I could not resist writing about byobu, those wonderful folding Japanese screens which have been entrancing the world for centuries. I have long loved them and purchasing an antique one was on the top of my list when I moved to Tokyo almost nine years ago.  I knew the perfect spot to hang it, just above my 18th century Shanxi region bamboo altar table. Early on I found many byobu of the right age and patina to be priced beyond well beyond my reach, but perhaps in my second year I stumbled across this small one, made from the fragments of a very very old screen, at the Heiwajima Antiques Fair. This instagram photo does not begin to do it justice as it doesn’t highlight the delicate gold leaf confetti in the left corner or the fencing around the chrysanthemums in the right. Unfortunately, everything is all packed now, so I can’t show you a better photo – you’ll have to wait for the unpacking at the other end.

It seems like perfect closure then that at the very last Heiwajima show I would be attending for a while this past May, that I found my dream byobu! I’ll give you a tantalizing detail but for more on it and on byobu in general, please click over to read the post on Cloth & Kind.

I know these last few posts have been all about my stuff, but there is something about leaving a country that one has lived in for a while that sends everyone on a frenzy of acquisition! I can’t tell you how busy I was with antiques for other people this spring (antique stone statue everyone!) and along the way I caught the bug myself. Honestly, while hundreds of items have passed though my hands these last years, I have always been good at letting them go on to their new homes. Here at the very end, I felt the need to tick off some boxes for myself. Has this ever happened to you? What did you buy when abroad, either living or traveling? Are there things you regret not buying?

Related Posts:
Beautiful Byobu…Japanese Screens at The Nezu Museum and at Home
Ogata Korin’s Iris Masterpieces Reunion Postponed
The Altar Table Reimagined…From Worship to Workhorse
Shrine Sale/Antique Show Schedule

…to over the top exuberant, by grouping like items with like. I hadn’t quite realized the sum total of blue and white porcelain I had collected over the years – and this still doesn’t represent all of it!

In under an hour, the movers had reduced it (or built it, depending on your point of view) to this. Someone commented on how neatly it was all stacked – c’mon, this is Japan after all.

I haven’t had a moment to blog, but at my final Kawagoe shrine sale a friend asked if there was anything I regretted not buying. Out of the blue I replied that I wished I had bought a blue and white benki – a vintage toilet. Lo and behold, the last dealer I went to had one for a bargain price. Stay tuned to see what I am planning on doing with it in Doha. You can see it tucked in there among the hibachi.

Details of some favorite Seto porcelain…

…including another last-minute purchase from Tomioka Hachiman, a Seto jubako, as if I needed another.

How long have I been promising a post on Kutani porcelain? At least two years! I promise to get to it one of these days. A little Imari snuck into this photo too.

Candlesticks galore…

…and the cream of a glass fishing float and bottle collection.

Not everything that needs to be packed originated here. I came with quite a few collections!

Lavender Staffordshire, better known as transferware, has been a lifelong passion. A rare color and quite difficult to find, I have been buying floral and neoclassical patterns since I was a teen. Mine was made in England (and in a few cases France) in the late 19th century as a shortcut to hand painting china. It actually has a reciprocal relationship with Asian porcelain if you think about it this way – Japanese inban is also transfer printed (they got the idea from the West) but many of the European transfer patterns (think Blue Willow for example) are based on Asian hand painted pieces. More about this here, here and here.

When we moved to Tokyo I knew it might be for 3-5 years – didn’t expect 9 – and we planned to rent out our apartment so we moved everything we owned including a few major antiques like this painted 19th century armoire. It has gorgeous flowers and birds on a background of that perfect French green-grey and its original bevelled mirror. You can see the campaign bed I wrote about the other day reflected and it has been in my daughter’s room since she was a baby. Typically, her bedroom in NY didn’t have a closet!

Our bedroom had another beautiful French piece, an antique Louis Philippe rosewood armoire – with its original mirror, sparkly with age. Luckily our wonky shaped Japan bedroom had an area with a raised ceiling or it would not even have fit.

When we moved to Tokyo originally, our container went at the beginning of summer although I didn’t travel there with the kids until late August. My husband took care of arranging the move in and we slept in our own beds the very first night we got there, which is actually quite unusual. What he didn’t tell me for months afterwards was that in order to get my beloved armoire into the bedroom, it had to be hoisted up through the window. I have to say I was happy to have missed it and just found it safely where it belonged when I arrived. So I went into today knowing that the only way out was the same as the way in and I was dreading it.  Truth be told – and you can watch it on the video yourself – it was a non-event as the movers here are so great.  Although, there are a few moments of drama around minute one.

A much more important truth to tell is that at the end of the day, the only truly precious cargo is the one reflected in the mirror, not the mirror itself.

But cross your fingers and wish my stuff luck anyway!

1000 yen is about 10 dollars, but as the yen doesn’t go as far, it feels like only a couple of bucks. I often go through the art stacks with an eye for anything charming – Japanese provenance is not necessary – and an ear for prices. Lately I’ve been lucky, finding works on paper and canvas for about 1000 yen. Many even come in just the right frames, or ones that can be painted or spruced up. Come take a quick tour with me through my latest discoveries…

A charming French watercolor in an aged gold frame just needed to be opened and cleaned and freshened up with a colored mat.

A typical modern Japanese woodblock print had a water damaged back and mat, and even a little water damage on the print, but nothing that showed when rematted.

It’s the dotted trees with just a suggestion of cherry blossoms that sold me on this one.

An acrylic on canvas with more charm than mastery but nice color.

Sweet daisies in the oval, always a nice shape variation for an art wall. My youngest daughter claimed this one immediately.

And this weekend’s find is my favorite. This oil painting of pansies was in a big ugly frame, but I took it out and love the casual look of just the canvas on the stretcher. (And psst, truthfully, it was a bit more than 1000 yen).

You’ve seen other shrine sale art finds of mine here and here (although the butterflies weren’t 1000 yen, yet certainly a bargain), but I am not the only one to find them.  Here are some great 1000 yen finds made by readers and friends…

A 1958 Oil of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, probably painted by a local returning from vacation – the signature is a Japanese name. I often come across European scenes, particularly London or Paris, painted in all kinds of styles.

I’ve gone out of my way to show fairly non-traditional items, but you can occasionally luck into some typical Japanese art such as ukiyo-e, scrolls and katagami for bargain prices. This huge shodo (Japanese calligraphy) painting was a steal at 1000 yen. It had quite a bit of water damage which was basically erased with a damp cloth and some dish soap at home. The dramatic kanji is hito or person.

To be honest, sometimes I can clean them up myself, but other times I invest a few more yen and have my local framer (he makes house calls!) do it.

I’d love to see and hear about your art bargains!

Since we were recently talking about daybeds I’d love to share one of my own family flea market stories. Years ago, my husband and I started the tradition of visiting Paris for his birthday very early on in our marriage. February was low season and you could always pick up a super cheap air ticket from New York. My motivation for going was yes, to celebrate his birthday, but really to head out to one of my absolute favorite places in the world - Les Puces de Saint-Ouen – the huge multi-shop market at Porte de Clignancourt commonly referred to as The Paris Flea Market. There really is no place to rival it in the world, and although it has become more expensive these days, there are still always treasures to be found. Definitely a bucket list destination for any antiques scavenger.

While I had bought small items in the past, I had never bought furniture there (something that has since changed dramatically) before that visit. Nor had my husband ever been with me – actually, he hadn’t been my husband prior. For some reason he knew that I loved campaign furniture, in particular the small folding iron beds of the mid 19th century and he spied a beautiful one in a cute stall. Our bed wasn’t particularly special, one of probably thousands of Napoleon III era iron beds that were made for officers to be able to live in comfort while on military campaigns. We asked the price and began negotiations. Now remember, we were newly married and fairly poor, so price was a big issue. Perhaps he wanted to show off his newly minted lawyerly skills, but he ended up negotiating for hours (or it least it seemed that way). In the end he got an amazing deal (and has never bargained for me since), but we almost had a last-minute snafu as the shipping agent was an expensive issue. So he actually managed to talk the dealer into packing it in a bicycle shipping box (oh the joys of collapsible traveling furniture) and inexpensively freighting it straight to JFK where we could just pick it up. As we left the stall, the dealer told me that I had “caught a good one!”

I don’t know if he had a premonition in that moment of two daughters or what, but the bed ended up being ideal for small spaces – New York and Tokyo bedrooms fitting that description. Personally, I’ve always imagined that when my daughter outgrew the bed (which so far she is not willing to give up), that I could use it for myself as a place to lounge, read, nap and dream. Since we bought our beach house, I’ve fantasized about having it outside on the porch, all comfy and inviting, like this…

…or this.

Just imagine the joys of pillow options!

But now that moving to Doha is on my horizon, I am thinking it might be a perfect piece for our garden there. It never rains, so the rust issue is avoided and hopefully we will have some sort of covered patio that we can hang out on.

Our shipment is going to be a tight fit in the container, so it’s a good thing that the bed frame folds up flat. I wonder if this bed will end up traversing the globe? Paris-New York-Tokyo-Doha and maybe back to New York some day…

Undoubtably, the room that has been influencing me for years is this Michael Smith designed bedroom, one of my favorite bedrooms ever. There is so much perfection and a kind of sweetness to it which is then neatly cut by those two extraordinary brushwork paintings.

The bedroom is just one in the incredible Malibu house which is chronicled in Michael Smith’s new book Building Beauty: The Alchemy of Design, which details the step by step process through which he, the architect and craftsmen travelled to create an American dwelling at its purest. I’ve featured other favorite rooms from it here and here before and never cease to find new details in the spaces.

Michael Smith has also had some major success using Franz Kline’s paintings too – who could forget this cover from AD? I think both he and Miles Redd have sparked a Kline craze in fact. Or perhaps it was Martha Stewart Editor Kevin Sharkey’s Kline-like paintings that started the ball rolling? Personally, I’ve had a few others images in my inspiration folders for some time, like this Kline with very formal blue and white porcelain…

…and this one (via Mark Sikes) with the sparest lined antiques.

But the Kline fascination has gone truly viral, with even mass-retailers like West Elm featuring abstract paintings in his exact style.

They are showing up everywhere, but in particular over at designer and stylist Emily Henderson‘s projects, here reflected in a mirror in a boldly papered dining room…

…and here as part of an art wall installation in her assistant’s living room. His whole apartment is quite fun (there’s a Japanese screen over his bed) and well worth scrolling through.

It’s not that I’m against these works – basically nobody can afford to own a real Kline – it’s just that I believe there is so much amazing original artwork out there that it isn’t necessary to buy these replicas. Which brings me right back around to my extraordinary monoprint by Naoto Okuyama. His work on paper is unusual in that he creates monoprints – which means a single edition, much like a painting – as opposed to multiple copies which is more common for prints. I had not really been familiar with his work until last year when he was featured in the CWAJ Print Show‘s Associate Show. But as I walked in the door of the gallery, this work – entitled Blood #393 – just caught me, hook, line and sinker. It was everything I had been imagining, plus a little bit of nostalgia even (does anyone else imagine Mt. Fuji when they look at it?)

The title put me off at first, but after a bit of conversation with Sue Abe and later answers from the artist himself, it made me feel even more connected to it:

The title of my carborundum works are all entitled ‘Blood’. The ‘Blood’ in the title incurs the image of something which continues and circulates endlessly. The lines and shapes are abstract and organic, and the materialistic textural expression is created by [the] technique. With all of these elements, I am trying to express the energy underlying and inherent in all phenomena. I would like the viewer to project my images on his/her experience and knowledge and have a feel of the ‘movements’ of something which endlessly drives everything forward, even though their perception may be different from my intention.

It also has a tactile textured quality – impossible to photograph – which involves mixing grainy material into his ink on his printing plate. As Okuyama explains:

The grainy substance is Carborundum powder. Carborundum is the name of an abrasive compound whose main component is silicon carbide. Print artists began using it as a printmaking medium in late 1960s. Miró and Tàpies made carborundum pieces, and also today there are artists who use this technique throughout the world though the number may be smaller compared to other printmaking techniques. I use aluminum plates. After drawing freely with resin and glue on the plate, I spray carborundum powder and let it stick. This way I intentionally make an unstable surface. So carborundum powder move to paper with ink when I print it with a press machine. A complicated, three-dimensional expression is made in this way.

But the most special part of all about my new acquisition is that my girlfriends all got together and purchased it for me as a going away present!!!! I still tear up when I think about it and think about leaving them all! This post is really a shout out thank you to my darling friends!

And in case you were worried that I’d lost all my proclivity for sweetness, I also got this amazing peony by Shinji Ando. Although, maybe not so sweet as the peony is overblown and almost ready to rot and the lace leaves have a bit of a punk feel…

Friendship is the sweetest!

To see more of these artists’ work, visit Yoseido Gallery.

The desire for a library painted blue, somewhere between navy, Prussian and teal has been one I have been carrying a long time. Here’s a favorite – you’ve seen it before in one of my other obsessionary posts – that one on ticking.

Blue is always soothing, and there is something about being enveloped in a deeply toned room layered with books.

I think the blue highlights ordinary books, which I love, as I am really resistant to those fake staged bookshelves.

Where do people then put the books they actually read? Love the children’s books on the lower right here, just perfect for little folk to grab.

These kind of blues have a glowing brightness even though they are dark colors.

In particular, blue mixed with its complimentary orange is stunning. Whether it be wood tones and velvet…

…or leather with a touch of animal print.

And here it is one more time from the cover view. The matched velvet and the Michael Smith fabric on the ceiling are just divine!

I’m blue over a lot more than just libraries these days. Leaving the land of blue – the land of indigo – after nine years is going to be very very hard. Even if I manage to get a blue library out of the change…

All photo credits and links, along with more inspiration photos, can be found over at my Blue Libraries Pinterest board. Thanks Joni and thanks to Ally at FTRB, who has a blue and orange room obsession too.

Toshihisa Fudezuka‘s stunning exhibition at Yoseido Gallery is untitled, but I would venture to give it one of my own –”Matters of the Heart.” Over the last two and a half years he has made about 500 handmade washi (Japanese paper) squares, each adorned with a barbed wire heart, culminating in this installation at Yoseido Gallery in Ginza.

It’s always exciting when an artist takes a big step forward, especially when they move off the flat page and into more multi-dimensional space. Fudezuka’s earlier work was more traditional in technique, being mainly woodblock and etching, tending to focus on ambiguous moving objects, like clouds or water, in order to “initialize the human heart’s motion.” His viewpoint was more social and group oriented, and his works were meant to be ambiguous so that each person’s “ever-changing” heart would interpret them differently.

Fudezuka believes that a professional artist should provoke meaning from the human heart (their subject) through the use of an object (that which is portrayed). While he or she may embark upon the long path towards making their subject clear, once polished enough, they choose a new object. In these screen print over woodblock panels, with their barbed wire hearts, we see the emergence of his new theme.

The idea of thorns or barbs comes from the Japanese expression toge ga aru, whose colloquial meaning is negative, as in an unsutiable idea or intention to hurt. Fudezuka desires to turn the idea around and use it in the positive – instead of being pierced by the thorn, you can take it in and learn from it. It’s how you accept it and what you do with it. He has also chosen barbed wire as motif because it represents the borders between people and places and divides the viewer from the work. This detail from a large canvas-like woodblock print reads like shed handcuffs to me with the viewer left to pick their way through a no man’s land.

Fudezuka’s switch towards a new motif and medium occurred slowly over the last ten years as the tragedy of bad news, particularly that perpetrated by youth, began to affect his outlook on his work. He wanted to be more personal and individual and to use a simplistic object so that people would be sure to understand it. A heart shape is iconic and universal, representative and literal at the same time. It was almost against his own desire that Fudezuka chose it to be the medium of his message in fear of it being trite.

Learning to make the paper took Fudezuka about six months. He uses a square paper frame and mixes traditional Japanese fibers with western rags and cotton. The variety in the finish of the paper is broad. This one looks almost like stone…

…like cardboard…

…and like graphite.

While the paper is wet he places the barbed wire heart and leaves it to dry. Afterwards, he removes the heart to paint or stain it and the paper separately, reassembling them at the finish. For some, he deviates from the norm, either burying the metal heart under the paper…

…or working with broken or submerged pieces…

…or even a half heart.

Occasionally, he even changes the shape, like this spiral, to keep the viewer on their toes.

The variations are obviously there for artistic reasons, but also to represent the variations in individuals and their hearts. I found the exhibition to be both deeply thought-provoking and easily accessible (my 9-year-old loved it) at the same time. And the possibilities for display are endless – you could hang 1, a pair, 4 in a grid, 9 or a whole wall and so on…In person it felt quilt-like.

For those who have come to the exhibit and find it “too painful” Fudezuka has a special meishi (name card) for them with a band-aid on the back!

And if you are not familiar with Yoseido Gallery, you should be! It is the foremost print gallery in Tokyo, in operation since 1953, but actually stretching back historically in the same family and the same space for 140 years. Abe-san’s daughter Sue runs the gallery now, but her great-grandfather started the business as a screen and scroll mounting shop. Over the years, her grandfather and father even did work for the Emperor. In the 1950s Abe-san in consultation with Koshiro Onchi, one of the founding fathers of the hanga movement, changed the shop to a gallery representing modern Japanese art.

From the outside it is a small and fairly unassuming looking space, but inside there are drawers and folders full of treasures. It’s like going to the CWAJ Print Show whenever you want! Don’t be intimidated to ask to see anything – it is one of the most pleasant, no pressure gallery experiences to be had. Another Tokyo bucket list destination and for those who cannot come in person, an outstanding online catalog organized by artist, medium, color or subject is available.

Yoseido Gallery
5-5-15 Ginza,
Chuo-ku, Tokyo, JAPAN 104-0061
phone:03-3571-1312
Mon-Sat 11:00-19:00/Sunday&Holiday closed
Exit B5 from Ginza Station – on Namiki dori

Toshihisa Fudezuka’s exhibition runs until next Saturday, May 18th.  I highly encourage you to stop in!

Case in point. Claiborne Swanson Frank’s study was one of those most pinned rooms from Elle Decor back in 2011. I think it was the combination of affordable mass market items (like the Ballard Louis Daybed), the absolute “it piece” (Madeline Weinrib’s Indigo Brooke rug) and the fresh mix of accessories combined with the effective and functional use of a small space that made this room popular. Who doesn’t need a space like this, especially when it is so recreateable?

In the Chicago project I’ve been working on this past year, we found just such a need. Two apartments had been combined to make one, so there is both a formal living room and a large den, but no guest room or study. The living room was long and awkwardly shaped, with a separate square area set off at one end. It was an easy decision to simply put up a wall with French doors, adding bookshelves for display on the living room side, and enclosing a study. My client adored the room above and had saved it in her inspiration photos, so we turned to it for the design. After all, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

Since then the Louis Bed has come from Ballard and the Madeline Weinrib Brooke rug is on order. The room is basically square and the desk will go opposite the daybed in the window.

Weinrib’s Brooke dhurrie, particularly in Indigo, has become almost ubiquitous, but I would argue that it has crossed the trend borderline to absolute classic (I can see them being avidly searched for in vintage stores 50 years from now). Among others, Emily Henderson keeps featuring them in her designs, not because she suggests it, but because everyone keeps asking for it!

We are shopping for a desk in glass/lucite to keep the room airy, much like in the inspiration room. One of the issues we are facing is the daybed cover and bedskirt. Swanson Frank’s has a custom cover in a Rogers & Goffigon linen, but we are trying to keep this as one of the low-budget items on our list.  We’ve scanned all the catalog/internet options, but no one seems to have anything we like. Suggestions? If you have any please let me know.

The reason to keep the cover price to a dull roar is the key to accessorizing the bed and bringing the space to life is gorgeous pillows in antique and special textiles. From previous posts you know I am obsessed with the daybed (and striped dhurrie) in Alayne Patrick’s Brooklyn apartment, which is piled with amazing pillows from her shop Layla.

We love the pillows from Turkey (and frankly everything else) in Claudia Benvenuto’s guest room. Because our space is also tight, we are thinking of some small moveable side tables. I love this bench!

Designer Karen Cole has a tight little guest space with pocket doors out onto the stair landing.  Again, I think it is the exotic textile mix that makes the room (and a little base of ticking never hurts either).

Our answer may simply be to find a reasonably priced fabric and have a custom cover made -”couture” details to dress up an off the rack piece. Then the pillow fun can begin!

Image credits: 1. Elle Decor November 2011, photo credit: Simon Watson, 2. client’s snapshot, 3. Emily Henderson, 4. Bringing Nature Home by Ngoc Minh Ngo via Style Court, 5. Elle Decor September 2012, photo credit: Joe Schmelzer, 6. Canadian House & Home March 2011, photo credit: Angus Fergusson.

The main project I am working on in the house is a full kitchen redo, which I have written about extensively here (more links below too). We have been planning on a white kitchen, which the homeowner has long dreamed of. But as these weeks have ticked away, it has been weighing on my mind that the kitchen is too white for the house, and doesn’t balance with the lovely dining area opposite.

Cue the epiphany now – using the tiles for a kitchen backsplash! I prepared my battle plan argument for my client – it goes something like this…The tiles would add so much in numerous ways. On one hand, they are very current (almost trendy) right now, while on the other they are a historic material perfect for the period of the house. The colors are ideal – the soft blue-green of the dining room, with a darker blue-teal to ground them and some cinnamon and white for contrast. They are neither too French, too Moroccan, nor too culturally specific. And for good measure, look back at the ceiling molding in the dining room photo – almost too perfect!

Needless to say, it didn’t take much convincing at all. We ordered a sample set of four tiles and they came promptly.  But my client still needed to “see it” to “believe it” so she used an age old trick – the photocopier! She made copies of the tiles (only one set in color) and laid them out along the backsplash. Voilá! Instant visual!

Do you ever have late night design epiphanies?

Related Brooklyn Project Posts:
A New Entryway in Brooklyn…Door Change and Encaustic Tile
Form Versus Function…White Marble Countertops? Really?
Form Versus Function…Inset or Overlay Cabinet Doors?
Form Versus Function…A Farmhouse Sink and That Perrin & Rowe Bridge Mixer Faucet
Brownstone Kitchen Inspiration From Sheila Bridges
Thoughts for 2013…Matisse at The Met, Comfort and Kitchens
Shop Talk…Finds For a Cause at Fork + Pencil

Speaking of lamps, this sake jug with its flowers, unusual in that most rustic jugs just have a manufacturer’s name or mark painted on them like these, is also a wonderful shape for a lamp.

I love its implied relation to an American classic, the stoneware jug. It took the floral decoration on it to make me see it that way.

Actual lamps have been another find, although I know I paid more than I should have for this purpley-indigo beauty. I have wanted a tiny task lamp for my desk at the beach house and looked everywhere the last two summers for one with no luck.

It will be absolutely perfect up here, so I had to have it.

I also couldn’t resist this minty green metal storage box. Don’t know what it is for or where exactly it will go, but I am sure I will find a place!

My lavender and blue dreams continue, with the markets fully supporting them. Lavender is not a typical color in Japanese textiles – it really is rare to see it – but I found an extraordinary lavender and blue tsutusgaki furoshiki (a traditional wrapping cloth made with a hand drawn rice paste resist technique) with a soft shibori faded background. I was having trouble convincing myself to buy it (“Do I really need it?”) when I realized I had an item stalker. You know what that is, someone who has spotted something you are looking at and decided they want it, so they follow you around the booth hoping you will put it down so they can grab it. An item stalker always helps to force a purchase!

Since then I’ve found a length of typical shibori (Japanese tie-dye), but in lavender and blue.

While I’m at it, here’s another really pretty and detailed piece…

…and did someone say pop of color? Obviously May Daouk‘s living room is still on my mind when you look at these colors together.

My spate of finding incredible Japanese prints – impeccably framed no less – at Kawagoe continues unabated. These small lithographs aren’t stand out pieces alone, but as part of a larger gallery wall, I know they will be fantastic.

I am not familiar with the artist and haven’t had time yet to research it, but I do love them.

So have you made any great finds recently? I’d love to hear about them!

Related Posts:
Shrine Sale Stories…Yamamoto’s Steamer Trunk
Shrine Sale Stories…My French Moderne Bar Cart
Shrine Sale Stories…Vintage Matchboxes, Frank Lloyd Wright’s Imperial Hotel and The 1948 London Olympics