Expat Life

Moving Day…Precious Cargo

So the movers showed up promptly this morning and it was a whirlwind. I have so many fragile and precious items that we planned for a special internal tri-wall container in our container for breakables. So last week I had moved things from the staid and orderly…

…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!

Jun 11, 2013 By tokyojinja in Expat Life, Furniture, Interior Design, Porcelain and Pottery 19 Comments Tags: armoire, blue and white porcelain, glass bottles, imari, inban, Japanese glass floats, Kutani, moving, packing, Seto, transfer printing, transferware, vintage glass

A Little Black and White to Cut the Sweetness

You know that feeling when you have a vision of something in your mind’s eye, but you could not describe exactly what it is you want and then you magically stumble upon it, just when you least expect it? Well it happened to me a few weeks ago when I went to Yoseido Gallery to see Toshihisa Fudezuka‘s exhibition. For some time now I have been craving a piece of artwork with dense black strokes and no other color as a counterpoint to my tendency to lean towards prettiness in interiors. My best approximation of my thought process would have been Franz Kline meets traditional Asian black and white landscape painting. And now I have just that!

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.

May 27, 2013 By tokyojinja in Artist Spotlight, Books, Movies & TV, Expat Life, Interior Design 9 Comments Tags: brushstroke painting, Franz Kline, michael smith, Naoto Okuyama, Shinji Ando

Living Lavender Dreams

What does a girl do with unmade decisions hanging over her head? Sulk? Panic? Nope! Fantasy decorate is the answer!

Ever since this time last year, I have been obsessed with designer May Daouk’s Beirut home, which was featured in Architectural Digest, stunningly photographed by Simon Watson. The luminescent lavender living room, chock-a-block with blue and white porcelain, comfy seating and that divine 19th century Oushak spoke eloquently to me. And those arched windows – those windows! – maybe I really need to go back and start with them. The fact that her home was in the Middle East didn’t particularly register with me at the time and only came to seem like an important point much later. While I am only showing the living room in this post, the entire space is fantastic so click here to see the slide show over at AD. And please be sure to click on the photos themselves in this post to see the enlarged versions which truly show the spectacular details.

I might not have imagined trying to apply the wonder of this space to my life before, even though it is my favorite color and holds so many favorite things. But it got me thinking…Many houses that I looked at in Doha had arched windows and large rectangular living spaces – granted not quite like this – but lovely nonetheless. So what in this photo don’t I already have? Neutral linen covered sofa? Check! A pair of velvet armchairs? Check? A big dark trestle table like the ones along the side of the room? Check! (That one is down in the garage for those of you wondering). Antique global textiles turned into pillows or throws? Check! Gobs and gobs of blue and white porcelain? Check! 19th century carpets? Check! (Although much smaller ones that could be laid over jute or seagrass perhaps). Could I be happy in Doha if I lived in a room like this? Somehow I think the answer to that is Yes!

I’ve even got a pair of antique slipper chairs with a bullion fringe and their original coral pink velvet fabric – definitely in the same spirit as these. And you all know I’ve got a gorgeous blue & white garden stool – just got to get it there. Should I be sure to put an IKEA Rand black and white striped dhurrie in my shipment? No, because IKEA opened in Doha just a month or so ago. Check!

Before you start scratching your head and thinking I am off my rocker, let me show you a few more inspiration examples, like this Alberto Pinto Moroccan fantasy from the late Domino magazine. Remember those pink chairs I just mentioned? And how divine is all that inlaid furniture? (More on that below). But the pièce de résistance has to be that armless settee upholstered a la suzani!

Instead of blue & white, painted and glazed earthenware is featured. That would be a chance to start a whole new collection!

Perhaps a new collection isn’t the answer – after all I do love my porcelain. Maybe going a bit more formal – soft with a bit of whimsy actually – with the lavender and blue in the space would be lovely, just like at Aerin’s place?

Tufted Chesterfield? Check! Queen Anne tea table? Check! (That one is in the garage too!)

Katie Ridder gets the formal but whimsical combo down just right too.

Another choice would be to use the fresh slate to steer off in a more modern direction. This is not my usual style but speaks to me nonetheless. The mix is outstanding! Orangey-toned tribal carpet? Check! Moroccan side table? Check!

It seems as if the flea market gods are having their say as well. Speaking of Moroccan side tables, I found this one at the market last week and had to buy it. Trying to decide if it should go to the beach or if I should take it with me.

Kinda seems like carrying coals to Newcastle, no?

And breaking news…In the time it took me to write this post I got a fresh email in my inbox with my elder daughter’s acceptance into school in Doha. Looks like the pendulum may be swinging that way. Hello lavender!

Image credits: 1, 3-4. Architectural Digest May 2012, photo credit: Simon Watson, 2. via Simon Watson, 5-6. Domino magazine, further credit unknown, 7. Aerin Lauder in Elle Decor July 2009, photo credit: Simon Upton, 8. Aerin Lauder in Vogue, via Habitually Chic, 9. Katie Ridder via Galbraith & Paul, 10. via Coco & Kelley, 11. me.

Apr 23, 2013 By tokyojinja in Color, Expat Life, Interior Design, Porcelain and Pottery 13 Comments Tags: Aerin Lauder, Alberto Pinto, blue and white, blue and white porcelain, Chinese porcelain, Doha, Japanese porcelain, Katie Ridder, lavender, May Daouk, Moroccan, porcelain, twin beds

Major Life Changes Ahead…Shall We Let the Architecture Decide?

I asked no other thing,
No other was denied.
I offered Being for it;
The mighty merchant smiled.

Brazil? He twirled a button,
Without a glance my way:
“But, madam, is there nothing else
That we can show to-day?”

-Emily Dickinson

Sometimes I wonder if I jinxed myself with that Emily Dickinson poem – it was the featured item on my college yearbook page, representing all the possibility I wished for. Or did I actually bless myself, and lay the ground work for actualizing a life so different from the one I might easily have led? Either way, adventure in the form of living abroad has come my way numerous times, culminating in my almost (!!!) 9 years here in Japan. I wouldn’t trade any of it, even the days that were hard, but we have been away from “home” for a very long time. Which brings me to my point…

I am at a crossroads – a huge one. And I have a major decision to make.

In the past years I haven’t had much control over what happens to me at the macro level – that “trailing spouse” tag is trite but true. But at the micro level, I have been able to build a life for myself and my family wherever we have lived. I like to think of myself as a “grow where you plant me” kind of person, but it always takes hard work to make that come true. So I can continue trailing or I can push back and say it is time to let go, time to have a “regular” life again. Either way, there is a major good-bye at hand, a good-bye that I find painful to write, a good-bye to one of my great loves.

Good bye Tokyo. Good bye Japan. (It looks so scary and real in type)

I’ve been musing about the way a physical place can have a personality and what that means for those who live there. So humor me and come on a bit of an architectural journey, from where I am, to where I might be…

As my compass and my North star, the Tokyo Tower is an iconic beacon of the city skyline at night. Whenever I am not sure where am I, a glimpse of it will help set me to rights, although I don’t get lost very often these days.

With two school-aged daughters, one of whom is entering high school next year, school is another major compass point in our family life. We have been part of a very special international community.

Have you ever wondered what my house in Tokyo looks like? Have you had visions of a modern architectural gem, as almost all my family and friends from the US do until they actually visit me here? Everyone seems to have an idealized vision of Japanese design chops and then…they see my house, which for Japan, is actually pretty good.

Not much to look at from the outside, but it has housed us well.

My choice then, if I actually have one, which I may not, is between the familiar, the familial, a place I already know so well, one that hardly needs a nighttime beacon…

…and a place so different from any I might ever have imagined I would live in. The idea of it scares me, but also excites me with the possibility of the new. The Torch is not quite the architectural icon that the other two towers are, but nonetheless, in my two short visits I’ve used it just the same way to help me orient myself.

School for the girls could be the fulfillment of a long-held dream of mine, although repatriation may have many unexpected bumps and lumps.

Our other choice is a continuation – and it does feel almost like an adjunct campus of their current school – of a life filled with other global nomads (that “Third Culture Kids” tag is another one I hate), possibly a much easier transition. And the chance to continue living an experiential life, instead of one where everything single thing done is really just to put on their college application, feels appealing. Palm trees and amazing facilities don’t hurt either.

Two different sets of fantasy housing. The first has real neighborhoods, with seasons and stately sycamores overarching, near old friends and family.

My 12-year-old suburban self determined that she would one day live in a brownstone.

My grown-up city self thinks a brick Greek Revival would do as well. I’m not picky.

The other choice is a bit of a scary word, a “compound.” It certainly sounds a bit off-putting and I’m not sure my city self thinks the American lingo, a “gated community,” would be any better. But it comes with beautiful warm weather all year, too hot at times, but swimming possible almost everyday and an abundance of Bougainvillea.

But on the other hand, the word “villa” has the best of connotations, charming and elegant.

Imagine sunset over the desert, bargaining at the souk, arches and jalis screens at the windows…

…and tea under the loggia in the garden.

Where am I choosing between you may ask? Well, I am sure you recognized New York and perhaps even the leafy tree-lined streets of Brooklyn. The other may not be so familiar, in fact I am sure it is not. Tropical, desert, city and oh so different, sitting smack in the middle of the Middle East. Doha, Qatar.

We won’t be leaving until the end of the school year and after that we will do our usual summer at the beach in New Jersey. As for Tokyo Jinja, it will go on, just the same, with maybe a slightly expanded horizon. Tokyo Jinja is, after all, a state of mind and I am a global antiques warrior no matter where I land.

Apr 8, 2013 By tokyojinja in Doha Move, Expat Life 35 Comments Tags: Doha, expat life, Japan, moving, New York, Qatar, Tokyo

Design Vision…Knowing Your Own Mind

As a follow-up to my Provenance column on kasuri over at Cloth & Kind, I want to show more photos of one of the featured spaces, the apartment of a friend here in Tokyo who has an incredibly clear personal decorating vision. Eclecticism and constant change are the reigning monarchs of the design world, so every now and then it is nice to have a very different vision – in this case a specific and coherent viewpoint, a vintage Japanese lens so to speak – to compare with. Many people don’t have the rigor to be this consistent – I know I certainly don’t – but there is a peacefulness that comes with it.

I’ve shopped with and for this friend and I always know what will appeal to her. Authenticity and patina, along with a certain roughness of finish and a palette of browns, ochres, and greys, with variety picked out in texture. The photo below was meant to feature the homespun kasuri futon cover (purchased at Kawagoe), but it also highlights a very few pieces of an enormous collection of modern Japanese pottery, much of it bought up in Mashiko, the famous pottery village. Much to my chagrin, I didn’t think to photograph the insides of her cupboards – that may have to wait for some other post. Most everything else was accumulated at shrine sales around Tokyo and she is unabashed when I pick something up and say “this has your name on it!” She knows her own mind.

Heading back out to the entry way to start the tour properly, the tone is set for the entire space as you walk in. Everything shows its age, from the vintage silkworm basket hanging on the wall, to the abacus and sake jug on the rustic cabinet. And here we see the beginning of one of the motifs in this space – the juxtaposition of squares and rectangles with circles, which the owner uses over and over again to great effect.

As I was there to photograph the kasuri futon cover, the rest of the photo shoot was a bit ad hoc, so excuse wires and everyday items that would normally be put away or out of sight. The truth is, seeing spaces as they are really used is more authentic anyway.

The television wall has a great collection of Japanese baskets including a big old rectangular silkworm tray. I continue to think big baskets are a great trick for TV walls – they balance the large dark expanse of the equipment while posing no heavy threat to it. The owner is an insatiable collector of baskets, second only perhaps to pottery – she cannot resist them – adoring their texture and lightness. The use of baskets throughout the apartment is another constant motif.

A corner of the living room gives pride of place to a beat up old tansu and a beautiful still life of finely woven basket mounted with a single branch. The limited color palette, augmented only by bits of natural green and a little blue, with texture for interest, is yet a third motif in the space.

Another vignette repeats the patterns, small cabinet, fine baskets and branches and a sweet bird print tucked into a silver leafed cherry wood frame.

This arrangement on the kitchen counter has lots of my favorites, including a glass senbei canister, a vintage sieve, some old signage and more pottery.

It’s not only in Japan that the owner is so consistent. Not at all surprising to discover that she has a historically accurate and incredibly well-preserved 1830s home in Connecticut. From the outside you would never guess that parts of the house are an addition as they worked to keep a natural roofline, the kind that develops with additions over the years. The interiors blend the old and the new by using antique flooring and antique beams salvaged from an old barn found elsewhere in Connecticut. The old part of the house has all the original wide board flooring, beams, and horse hair plaster walls. The house itself is filled with Americana of the period, antique cupboards, dry sinks, blanket chests, quilts, crocks, and yes – pottery – lots and lots of pottery, but in this case classic American redware and yellowware.

Adore this winter photo but I am looking forward to seeing it this summer! And whenever it is that she moves back, I’m even more interested in seeing the dialogue between the old Japanese and American pieces. I think it will be a lively conversation.

Mar 25, 2013 By tokyojinja in Design Motif, Expat Life, Interior Design, Porcelain and Pottery, Shrine Sales and Flea Markets, Textiles 6 Comments Tags: baskets, japanese antiques, Japanese pottery, kasuri, Mashiko, patina, pottery, texture

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