End-to-end 1930s Bakelite pins find a resting spot on black fabric beneath a glass-topped display table.

Packrats aren't a Northwest rarity, so what makes Huchthausen unique is how he displays his horde of vintage knickknacks. They're all over the place: on bookshelves and glass-topped coffee tables, salvaged store shelves and curio cabinets. They take residence on walls, side tables, counter tops, even the floor.

"People are just blown away," Huchthausen says of visitors to his treasure-laden abode in Seattle's South Downtown. "You very, very seldom, even in antique stores, see this much in one place at one time. People come to parties and they spend the whole time touring the loft because it's like coming into a museum."

For Huchthausen, the knickknacks are more than collectibles; they're inspirations. Credited as a pioneer of the American studio-glass movement and of specialized fabrication techniques widely used today, Huchthausen was one of the country's first glass artists to emphasize cold glass-working techniques such as engraving in the early 1970s.

Thirty years later, sculptures by the 17-year Seattle resident - who sidelines as university professor and museum consultant - have shown in nearly 60 museums.

"I constantly derive ideas and impetus from my surroundings," he says. "I live with my collections because they inspire me."

From the vantage point of a 1920s bamboo bar, rattan furniture and a neutral backdrop unite the wide-open space of David Huchthausen's SoDo loft.

From 1920s French posters and art-deco glass, to 1930s Bakelite, to '40s tropical motifs, rattan furniture and floral prints, to '50s lamps and advertising posters - everything is out for show. But combining vintage collectibles spanning 40 years in one spot was a challenge: "There were so many diverse styles within those years, it's all kind of eclectic. So for continuity, I've grouped similar genres that go together."

To pull off the look, he pared the loft down to bare ceiling beams "sandblasted" with crushed walnut shells, refinished maple floors and cream-painted drywall - "the walls are neutral to just support the visual activity in front of them."

He also built an overhead sleeping loft and installed a spiral staircase and roof deck overlooking Safeco Field. His loft is one of 30 artist studios and living spaces Huchthausen rehabbed in the Bemis Building, former home of the Bemis textile-bag company.

A schooled architect, Huchthausen had been on the lookout for a renovation project, and the Bemis Building had always fascinated him. So when the plant went up for sale in 1994, Huchthausen snapped it up. Renovation took place from 1995 to 1997.

The artists' lofts have been occupied since 1996. Huchthausen, who has the largest one, says his loft isn't separated into living, working and display areas. "I consider it all to be part of my work and integral to what I am all about as an artist."

The overhead sleeping area is private but it, too, is filled with projects and pieces from his collections.

The large open area is "flex space," its configuration changing depending on what projects or drawings he is working on. A number of "intimate" conversational areas are interestingly arranged in the space, allowing smaller groups to congregate - generally around a display table or other grouping of objects. The space is also used for a variety of meetings from urban planners to business clients, art collectors and gallery owners.

A 1940s rattan bar gets glamour from a collection of pint-size female nudes and a towering wood angelfish, illuminated by a 1950s plaster-cast lamp. The off-kilter pineapple-head bank commemorates Hawaii's induction as America's 50th state.

One grouping features a bamboo living-room set - two chairs, a hassock and a sectional purchased at an antique store 15 years ago - that was neutralized with subdued, 1940s tropical-motif upholstery. The set flanks a display cabinet in disguise, a glass-topped burled walnut coffee table. "That's a rare 1920s display coffee table, and I actually traded some 1920s art glass with an antique dealer for it," Huchthausen says.

Displayed under the glass top are dozens of Bakelite pieces. "One of my biggest collections is of Bakelite - a resin compound used to make 71 percent of the jewelry made in the United States between 1931 and 1940. It's become an incredible collectible and very expensive."

Arrangements of antiques, posters or collectibles of a similar period or style help create distinctions from one area to another. They also keep visitors' eyes moving - and Huchthausen's creative juices flowing. In one spot, the aquamarine blue on the fins of two massive sailfish picks up the blue of the water behind the mermaid on the 1904 Cappielo French poster nearby.

In the kitchen, the tone is set with 1940s advertising signs mounted on the walls. Made of tin, wood or paper, the signs add colorful interest to charcoal-gray Formica countertops and whitewashed maple cabinets. "I just wanted them neutral because the whole focus in the kitchen is all the signs," Huchthausen says.

That doesn't mean they're the only things to look at. The kitchen also shows off a collection of '50s glassware and several vintage cookie jars. "The rocket ship, that's my favorite one," he says.

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OFFLOAD THE BOOKS and make room for something prettier. That's what Huchthausen did with shelving in various parts of the loft. A stand-alone bookshelf near the kitchen holds 1940s China refrigerator ware such as pitchers and butter dishes. There's also a wild collection of salt and pepper shakers. Altogether, Huchthausen has about 2,000 sets.

Twin lamps flank a hodgepodge of art-deco pieces, from a brass clock to a black lacquered art sculpture. The view is of Seattle's South Downtown, near Safeco Field

An office off the main living area has its share of shelves, too. A 7-foot-tall cherry number is stocked with art-deco vases, ceramics, Bakelite containers and 1930s and '40s mystery books.

With rose-colored looped carpeting as the backdrop, Huchthausen even stretches his displays to the floor. A raised foyer of sorts, separating the living area from the spiral stairs leading to the roof, offers roughly 100 square feet of surface space.

On it is a quirky collection of odds and ends, many rescued from in-store displays. A bright-red lobster originally created for a Las Vegas restaurant, for instance, was snapped up at a surplus auction.

"Some people that have been in here three, four, five times still say, `Oh, that's new.' But it's been there all along," Huchthausen says. "There is so much stuff that your eyes are all over the place and you just can't take everything in."

The floor also anchors some unexpected treasures, like the 5-by-8-foot rug in the bedroom - a Disney creation fetched from a New York carpet store.

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OVER THE YEARS, Huchthausen has looked for interesting, funky finds - then bought nearly every one of them. But he's curtailing his spending spree. "I've been doing it for so many years, and now I really know what it is I'm looking for. Besides, it's getting a lot harder to find this stuff without paying through the teeth for it."

Two massive sailfish are mounted high on the kitchenette wall. Huchthausen says he had quite a time getting them up there because they were so big - the larger one is 9 feet long. "It doesn't look like it, because it's 20 feet from post to post. That's one of the things that is deceiving about this loft. The space in here is so big."

It's also getting a lot harder to find space. As it is, hundreds of things sit waiting to rotate into a spot in the loft. He thinks about selling some things, then admits, "I'm too much of a packrat."

He finds his prey at flea markets, antique shops and collectible shows in Seattle and Portland. He also picks up trinkets during vacations.

"Some of this stuff, if you pull out a piece or two, is very kitschy," Huchthausen says. "It has a very, sort of, tacky look to it. But when you get a lot of it together, from the period it came from, it suddenly just takes on an incredible look."

How to be secure

When an earthquake shook Seattle in February, David Huchthausen was left picking up the pieces.

Because his loft is in an area sitting on fill dirt, it was much more susceptible to movement than solid ground. In all, insurance valued the destruction at $15,000 (replacement cost). Though Huchthausen's eagle eye for bargains meant he paid only a sliver of that, the loss of pieces with memories is something he doesn't want to repeat.

So he's taking a few steps to make his displays and collections earthquake resistant. Anyone can use the same steps to help safeguard memorabilia:

1. Secure shelving to walls.

2. Use earthquake wax to attach individual pieces to shelves.

3. Keep fragile and/or valuable pieces away from cupboard edges: "Quite a few (pieces) fell out and smashed when the doors swung open," Huchthausen says.

4. Insure everything of value that could easily be broken.

Jennifer Dirks writes on architecture and design for Pacific Northwest and other regional magazines and newspapers. Her e-mail address is jd@thewritersgroup.cc. Tom Reese is a Seattle Times photographer.