I HAVE THIS THEORY that full-on mid century modern style never really takes hold and endures — because it’s just too spare for most people. It’s minimalist. And we humanoids are not. We like our ornamentation. We pouf our hair and bedazzle our ring fingers. We put bones through our noses, we draw on cave walls, we put feathers and arrowheads into cigar boxes, and we spend hours hunting down rare kitschy creatures for our collections of postwar Made in Japan salt and paper shakers but “animals under $5 a pair only”. It’s a magical, mystical, mesmerizing, magnetic pull — to accumulate. Above: The Wilson House is stunning, but still too… tidy… for me.
I really don’t like to encourage ‘being a meanie’ [a key commenting rule here on the blog is: No one is to be made to feel bad for their choices], but for purposes of today’s Open Thread, I point to this website, Unhappy Hipsters, which lampoons the poses of not-too-happy-looking people in their bare, artful, modern houses. Should we get these folks some tchotchkes, stat?
I spoke to none other than mid century modern design legend Vladimir Kagan recently, and we chatted about this very issue — the struggle to achieve the most noble philosophical aspirations of minimalism.
Mr Kagan:
My designs were influenced by the Bauhaus philosophy, “less is more” – I was raised on this. If you have a bigger piece of furniture, you need less seating elsewhere. The serpentine sofa seats eight people.
Pam: Do you live “less is more” in your own home? (I knew the answer because I had seen the photos of Kagan and Wilson’s New York City apartment on The Selby.)
Mr. Kagan laughs:
Less is more. Except in my own home. Do as I say, not as I do.
Pam: So why did you end up with more is more?
Mr. Kagan:
I wish I could be less is more. I have a yearning to move and start over. You end up with more is more because you like things. Erica and I traveled a lot, and we collected…. We have always acquired never eliminated. To create a clean space is a wonderful thing. I admire it and help create it for my clients. Unfortunately, emotionally I can not down-scale!
that it’s so hard to be minimalists?
Is there something very deep instinctual need to have our stuff?
(Let’s set aside the extremes, please, for this discussion.)
Should we give ourselves a break for being
creatures of domestic comfort?
Or, is there, and *should* we, strive for some sort of more “evolved” “balance”?
Please be *compassionate* in this discussion, okay?
Joetta Fort says
I am not a collector, and love to clean out drawers, file cabinets, closets. Even so, I do have ‘stuff’, because people keep giving it to me. But when it comes to living room furniture – it’s about comfort. I want people to get cozy and spend a couple of hours reading a book. I want a people to come over, relax and chat all evening. I don’t see that happening in the room in the photo.
Caren says
To distract from the places we haven’t gotten a chance to clean yet.
Trudi says
I have quit collecting anything. I have also purged my house of anything that I don’t absolutely love or makes me feel really good looking at. With less clutter, I am calmer and happier.
After both my parents and my husband’s parents died (at very old ages), I realized the sad truth about “things.” When we cleaned out their homes after they died, I’d say 90 percent went in a dumpster or to the Goodwill; whic is what made me decide to purge my house of knick-naks, etc. I’d ask myself…”Will my kids toss this in a dumpster after I die, and do I love it so much I don’t care?” Three full pickup loads to the Goodwill later and I can say my house has never looked better, and I don’t miss a thing I donated that I know someone else will love.
Just another Pam says
Trudi, you are so right. I’ve worked at estate sales and seen what families have gone through especially when Mum &/or Dad was a hoarder. So many of the adult children already have full homes of their own and yet here they are lugging off box after box after box of stuff they have no where for and will never use out of love and respect for their parents. Obligation hoarding, not a happy place.
One of the people I worked with asked the magic question one day…..what would you do if you knew your days were numbered. We all agreed the first thing we’d do is call for a dumpster and lots of packing boxes so our children would never have to deal with our ‘stuff’ as all too often what is wonderful to us isn’t to them.
In the mean time I’ve stopped shopping….too many exciting vintage things to be found and it’s hard to say no….and am slowly letting go of the stored “stuff” to charity shops and auctions. Like another poster rightly said, the stuff deserves a good home so letting it go free instead of in the back of my closet with other some day pieces is a good thing.
Mark says
“Restraint” is always difficult. There is always that “perfect piece” that you just can’t pass up. My advice to clients is if that happens, ‘trade’ it for something you already have. There will always be a home for it out there in the marketplace. Nobody said “minimalist” was easy… 😉
Annie B. says
Because there’s just so much incredible s&%# out there and I want it all.
amy pie says
Word.
Brian T says
We collect stuff because the world is FULL of wonderful things.
Some of us collect too much stuff because the value is in “the thrill of getting,” not the enjoyment of having and using. I probably already have more books than I could read in my lifetime.
The solution is not to sell all your stuff. The solution is to realize that you don’t have to display every piece at the same time, forever. Rotate! Create a tchotcke storage bin, and put out a twelfth of your collection each month. You’ll appreciate them more because you’ll have to actually interact with them, because they’ll have more room to be focal points, because you’ll miss them temporarily, and because they’ll stop fading into the background clutter.
You can do this with your paintings, your photos, your kitchen pretties, your yard ornaments …
Ruth says
I grew up in a minimalist house. It was a small simple ranch house, built in the early ’50s. The interior design was done in the ’50s, 60’s and 70’s. It was in magazines. I think the secret to successful minimalist is not so much have a richness of ‘stuff’, but rather, a richness of texture. The colors were vibrant, the fabrics rich – not overwrought or baroque, but interesting, multi-dimensional in color and texture. The walls and carpets and floors were often colorful and/or interesting. I have inherited much of the furniture (as much as I could fit into a NYC apartment) and continue the tradition of richness. And minimalism. It works. And is an oasis in the chaotic city in which I’ve always lived.
Dianna says
Well, my husband keeps joking that we’ll need to move out of our apartment and into a house so we’ll have room for all my stuff. He knows that a bigger space for me will mean even more stuff…hehe.
But seriously, the reason I like all my stuff is that it makes my apartment feel more like home. I like coming home from work, and seeing familiar, comfortable stuff that I’ve collected. To me, Minimalist is boring.
Cynthia says
Minimalism of decoration and furnishings (of whatever style) is good for offices, public spaces, monasteries and art galleries, places that are not personal residences or where personal tastes and preferences are not paramount or would distract from the purposes carried on there. In our homes (personal castles and refuges) we express our personalities with items we like and find amusing or comforting. Home is a place where one need not be tasteful or practical, if one is so inclined. It runs the gamut from a few favorite pictures and knicknacks to the sad squalor of hoarding. Also, for most of history, a bare dwelling and few possessions was a sign of want, need, poverty, which few would want to emulate. The wealthy or those wanting to appear rich would stock their homes with expensive furniture, artwork, family portraits and statuary, treasure, heirlooms, fancy clothing, etc. …whereas the vast majority couldn’t afford anything but bare basics for their dwellings. With mass production someone of ordinary means can indulge the same desire to collect and stock up on household goods, which was once only for the few wealthy. If you’re happiest with a collection of tchotckes all over the house, enjoy it, as long as it doesn’t cause a health or fire hazard! It’s your house and money, you should enjoy it your own way. Personally, I have edited out and given away many items in the past few years and while not minimalist, now prefer to minimize items on display on walls and surfaces. The furniture in my whole house is now mostly MCM and other 1960-70s vintage pieces, with modern but retro-flavored lamps and other decorative pieces. The only things I still have too many of are books, but I just donated about 10 boxes of hardbacks and am storing about 10 more…hard to give up.
lady brett says
we have recently made a huge effort to declutter our space. the major things that i have found made it so difficult in the past (and how i got over them) are:
wastefulness. i think i inherited my concept of waste from my grandparents’ generation. but i have finally realized that throwing things away is, yes, wasteful – but no more wasteful than storing things that need to be thrown away in your house!
sentiment. obviously, some items are from great times or great people. but the items are not the event or the people. of course, i have kept a lot of sentimental items – but only ones that i really like as well. i don’t need a t-shirt i don’t wear to tell me that college was fun, or i like a band.
value. that is, “this is a good item” and you shouldn’t get rid of perfectly good things, right? but that is really tied into ownership. i like to think of it from the perspective of the thing, rather than the owner (me). wouldn’t this thing be happier somewhere where it was really getting used and loved? in some respects this is tied to the waste idea – it is a waste to have things (no matter how wonderful) that you don’t fully value or use. one thing that has really helped me get rid of things in this category that i do love (but don’t use or need) is to find someone or somewhere very specific for it to go, rather than just stuffing it in a donation box (like, “joe would love this and make use of it, so that’s a better home for it”).
sounds a little nutty in writing, but it’s worked well for me. i’ve found that there is abalance between the joy that your stuff brings you and the joy than minimalism brings you – that balance is different for everyone, but when it’s off, it is stressful.
the thing i keep in mind through all of this is “have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful” – it gives a lot of leeway to personal taste (it is not an inherently minimalist statement), but it ensures that your space is not wasted.