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?
Steve says
It’s not “instinctual need” but “instinctual want.” It takes self-control to keep this want in line, and most of us don’t put time or energy into controlling our instincts.
Robin, NV says
If I may step up onto my soapbox for a second . . . I think a lot of people have substituted social pleasures (spending time with friends and family) with the accumulation of stuff. Buying objects gives an instant pleasure and objects doesn’t talk back or tell you the turkey was too dry. Too many of us practice “credit card therapy” instead of seeking out social circles. I’m just as guilty of this as anyone – as a collector, I enjoy the thrill of the hunt. I also have a lot of things that I keep out of nostalgia and because, well, I like my stuff.
But why do we have too much stuff and can’t live a minimalist lifestyle? I think, deep down, it’s all about control. Our lives are stressful. We interact all day with people – strangers, friends, family, enemies, etc. With people you can’t always control how they act or what they think but a chair stays put once you put it there. Objects are unequivocally “yours” in a way that people are not. We probably have cluttered homes because it’s reassuring to have our stuff around us. Our objects take on meaning to us to the point that we “need” them around.
blair kooistra says
Minimalism=less dusting.
Annie B. says
Serious thoughts this time: Developing a sense of selectivity has saved me from becoming a true hoarder. When I first became acquainted with MCM, I wanted everything which even remotely resembled the period. Cardboard boxes began to fill my guest bedroom, my closets, and under the beds (true confession time). My home looked more like a store than a home.
Eventually, common sense prevailed, and I realized that quality was greater than quantity, and that one could always “trade up”: replacing good things with really great things as they were doled out along the way by the Retro Gods. However, I’m always prone to a relapse, given the right items.
pam kueber says
I have several vintage cardboard boxes — with marketing on them!
Annie B. says
You lucky girl! When they begin to fall apart, you can reycle them into collage. Vintage containers for our vintage treasures = true love.
ChrisH says
Good insight. But it’s hard to refine your sense of what you want prior to buying too much junk.
Annie B. says
Don’t I know it. I’m a born c#$p-magnet.
Hillary says
As a near-hoarder, I could go on about this for hours. I collect too many things and the reasons I keep them are numerous: supplies for hobbies I’m going to do someday, pieces collected competitively (It’s all mine!), things bought out of pity (I’m going to fix this back up), things I can’t get rid of unless I can sell it for “what it’s worth.”
I struggle constantly trying to make my house the beautiful place I know it is under the clutter. I try to “trade-up” rather than keeping every lamp I find and to edit my collections, but I really have more hobbies and collections than one small house will hold. I either need to get rid of some things or move to a bigger house. Until then, I will live in limbo. 🙂
Sarah says
On a practical level, it’s very hard to hold out for exactly what you want, especially when collecting items that are scarce. You may want an authentic Eames lounge, but in the meantime you need furniture and will probably cave and buy something mid-mod inspired from Ikea. I’ve done it myself a billion times. Function precedes form, especially when you’re in your twenties.
Sandy says
If you walk into someone’s home you learn a lot about them from the things they own and display. If you walk into a minimalist home what does it say about the person other than that they like that style (and probably don’t have kids at home)? I’ve never understood how anyone could have any hobbies and maintain this look. In our house we have gear for photography, sewing, needle crafts, astronomy, music (one acoustic guitar, two classical guitars, one jazz guitar and amps, mics, etc.; one flute, one dulcimer, a piano, and sheet music for all these and voice — and cds!), books on all subjects, genealogy materials, and sports stuff. We’re not built for minimalism, but we’re interesting to know and never bored, and that is enough.
lady brett says
interesting, because i have found having children to be the biggest motivator of my minimalism.
not that anyone who saw our house would call us minimalist – but if you saw it now vs. before kids, well, there is a *lot* less and it is all more organized.
i know that sounds like an oxymoron, but having kids shines a big light on your priorities, and for me that meant simplifying.
Eartha Kitsch says
Someone with a screen name that has “kitsch” in it won’t even go there. I’m enjoying this discussion though!
Chutti says
Ok…I was waiting to see how you would chime in, Eartha.
I recuse myself.
Oh heck, I am just pleading the fifth.
Francine says
When we moved across country we left most of our furniture behind. I really loved have very little in our new house most of the first year. We bought some essentials, dinning room table, beds, but left the living room empty for a while. So long that I started getting raised eyebrows when people would come by. Did not care one bit. No dusting, easy to vacuum and spacious. But then it began to feel empty not spacious so the thrifting began. My house is now filled with treasures, some I keep, some I sell, and I love them. Seeing them as I walk through my home makes me happy.
Minimalism might be nice to look at but it tends to be a bit too cold for me. Things matter. They remind us of people, places and they give a home it’s personality.
JKaye says
Our senses might help us to create minimalism, but, our senses also help us move right on past it. Our senses stay turned on, constantly reacting and responding to stimuli. Put the person who created that striking room in it for an evening, and he or she will move things around, add things or take things away, depending on what brings comfort. A scratchy pillow gets changed out for one that’s softer, and a drink is placed onto a side table. The drink is poured into a glass that doesn’t quite fit the setting, but does fit comfortably into the hand. An afghan is brought in from another room to add some warmth, and a few magazines get tossed onto the coffee table. A person can create a minimalist setting, but it can only remain minimalist if the person stays out of the room.