The thrill of building a collection — and discovering more to add to it

Editor’s Note: Vintage Pacific NW revisits some of our favorite stories from some of our favorite magazine contributors. Check back each week for timeless classics focusing on food (by Providence Cicero and Nancy Leson, and chefs Greg Atkinson and Kathy Casey), gardening (by Valerie Easton and Ciscoe Morris), fitness (from former Fit for Life writer Nicole Tsong), architecture (from former NW Living writer Lawrence Kreisman), wine (from local guru Andy Perdue) and more.

Originally published May 21, 1989 
By Lawrence Kreisman, former NW Living writer

IT ALL STARTED with an illustrated book I found at a used-book store. Or was it the hand-painted porcelain plate with the exceptional art nouveau design I happened upon at a Redmond antique mall? It didn’t take long before the collecting passion had seized hold in earnest and I found myself beguiled by the decorative arts of yesteryear.

Collectors start off innocently enough with little, inexpensive items: a tray here, a plate there. Then the art and antiques budget escalates with a lithograph, a piece of furniture, a contemporary blown-glass vase. Last month, given the choice of putting money into my individual retirement account or spending it on a French brass clock, it took about 45 minutes to choose the latter course. Now I can listen to its sweet chime into my retirement years!

There is nothing new about collecting. It is, if anything, as basic as eating, sleeping and reading — and often more entertaining.

Some people see collectors as hard-nosed aesthetes with narrow focus, always perusing catalogs and price lists. But that is just a small percentage of the whole. Most of us I’d call “eclectic collectors” whose homes reflect the broader eye of a generalist rather than the tunnel vision of the specialist. For us, there is always the adrenaline rush of discovering — in some dusty shop corner or in a display case or in the next gallery showing — something beautiful and “indispensable” that you know was “meant for you.”

The world is full of serious collectors who do their research thoroughly before they shop and know everything about the particular period and style they collect. It is also full of collectors like myself who are not quite as scholarly about their purchases. I do spend time researching them — once I have brought them home. The finding of the piece inspires me to know more about it. After years of looking and reading, I now consider myself a rather knowledgeable collector of late 19th- and early 20th-century furniture, glass, metal and book arts, as well as contemporary wood, glass and works on paper.

Initially I am attracted to an object because of its color, form, ornamentation and craftsmanship. I ask myself: Is it a good example of its type or style? Is it closer to a prototype, or at least an excellent stereotype? I try to avoid objects made in the waning years of a period that are simply “knockoffs” of originals or at the point of being kitsch. Unlike some collectors, I’ve never considered it important to have signed pieces by original masters. That is just as well, since the furniture of Frank Lloyd Wright or turn-of-the-century Liberty silver by Archibald Knox certainly would be out of my price range.

Because of my professional interest in architecture of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, I have developed a significant interest in decorative arts and collecting them. I frequented galleries, museum shows and antique malls searching out and sometimes buying objects of these periods — an oak library table here, a planter stand or lighting fixture there.

I also started amassing any and every book on a given subject. In browsing print shops and bookstores, I found and bought illustrated books by designers whose styles epitomize art nouveau, Art Deco, and the arts and crafts aesthetic.

I am not a purist. I like many things. So does my partner, who shares some of my collecting interests but also has some personal obsessions: wood-turned bowls, blown glass and books — thousands of them! That has resulted in a home with many layers. It is not a museum of design, but a place where furnishings are comfortable and welcoming.

There are, of course, some drawbacks to being a collector.

Someday you look around and discover, to your amazement, that there is not a single place left to put anything! Your house has taken on the look of open storage at the local art and history museum. At this point, some collectors weed through their earlier or less-sophisticated acquisitions and seek a buyer. Others simply put things in storage and circulate the collections, much as changing gallery exhibits.

It is most important to give beautiful objects breathing space.

Grouping objects of similar shape, size or color together is a wonderful way to have them relate. Setting dozens of like items in rows on shelves makes it difficult for the viewer to fully appreciate any one of them.

As a good friend and fellow collector puts it, collecting is more than simply acquiring objects. There is an emotional attachment involved in every acquisition. And when these objects enter the collector’s home, his or her personal vision inspires an arrangement that puts each object in relationship to its neighbors. They establish a dialogue, taking on lives of their own.