Goodwill Hunting: Tiger, $8.00

Oh, Padonia Road Goodwill; you always do me right. I found this beautiful portrait in chalks (a pastel, if you will) of a tiger there today, along with some great yoga clothes. Why do I mention the yoga gear? Well, over the past four months I've become obsessed with Bikram yoga and it sort of involves tigers.

Part of the Bikram instruction encourages you to use your "Bengal tiger strength" and I've always loved the way those words create an image in my mind and, in turn, a renewed sense of my ability to flex or point, hold or breathe. You are usually told to summon your Bengal tiger strength in the Standing Head-to-Knee asana: ugh, so hard! Having this handsome tiger hanging on my wall is a visual reminder of the power and grace I hope to someday muster in such a pose.

There is an artist's signature in the bottom right corner of the pastel: L.D. Harvey. Not surprisingly, I couldn't track down any information about Mr/Ms Harvey. What I do know is that he or she gave this tiger a sense of vulnerability: the eyes look a little concerned, or curious. The chalk gives the tiger a sense of softness that makes me want to reach out and pet his chin or his tiny ears. Based on my experience with the "tiger" (pictured below) that lives in my apartment, I'd probably regret doing that.

Massive

Goodwill Hunting: Hello Beautiful / Cherie, 50¢ each

Yesterday I was driving south on St. Paul Street and noticed a sidewalk sale happening at the corner of 28th Street. I'm so glad I stopped! Inside a cardboard box I found a stack of sheet music with incredible cover art. Technically these aren't Goodwill finds, but at 50 cents a pop I think we can agree this purchase qualifies as Thrift Art.

At first I was ready to walk away with about 12 of these, but I want to keep my TA collection diverse so I whittled the group down to my two favorite covers: one for a song called "Hello Beautiful;" the other for a fox trot called "Cherie."

Hello Beautiful (listen here!)

1931

Music by Walter Davidson; Lyrics by Maurice Chevalier

Cover art by Frederick Manning

 

I love the Art Deco look of this cover. The repeated geometric motifs and perfect symmetry of Beautiful's brows, eyes, lips, earrings and bobbed hair are streamlined and curving, perfectly still and pulsing with movement all at once. The cover has a stamp from Day's Music Store of Elyria, Ohio on it, as well as a signature identifying a former owner as Ms. Hazel R. Castle (? illegible).

Cherie (listen here!)

1921

Music by Irving Bibo; Lyrics by Leo Wood

Cover art by Art Phillips

I'm not quite sure how to characterize the style of Cherie--very late Art Nouveau? Japanese woodblock print-inspired? She reminds me of an Aubrey Beardsley print, The Black Domino. Since I'm not an art historian, I'll leave the visual "analysis" at that! I love the combination of orange, black and grey colors, and the streaks raining down her cheekbones. Art Phillips really took the lyrics to heart when he crafted the come-hither smirk on Cherie's face:

"Far away in France there lives a sweet coquette,

She's a little dancing rascal you can bet"

On the back cover of Cherie is this post script: "Remember the title and the next time you go to a dance ask the orchestra to play it."

Or as two other lovely ladies put it: Hey DJ, keep playin' that song, all niiiiight, on and on and on....

Goodwill Hunting: Interview, $25

 

My most recent Thrift Art find is making me feel sort of grown-up and professional. This piece is a real print (5th in an edition of 5, with a gorgeous deep plate impression all along the edges); signed by the artist in pencil (a woman named Elisabeth Phelps); with a mysterious, interesting title--Interview--to match the ominous vibe I'm feeling when I look at it. Twenty-five dollars is the most I've ever paid for ANYTHING at Goodwill, and I've noticed that prices are going up in general at secondhand stores. For example, there are now "boutique" sections of clothing separated from the general riff-raff. I think management is finally catching onto the fact that people dump valuable stuff at their doorstep, and they have better self-esteem than the Dollar Store, but... $30 for a pair of previously-sashayed-in pants from Talbots?? They may have lost their damn minds.

But I digress. This print was certainly worth each one of the 2500 pennies I paid for it! The subject matter is a room with an armchair and standing ashtray in the foreground. Three (or possibly four) sources of light are visible behind the chair: a tall window with open venetian blinds to the right; a hanging, horizontal light fixture above; and four circular glass lights to the left. In my opinion there is also a blazing fireplace below the circular lights, but that is debatable. It's interesting that such a dark, monotone print represents an almost blinding assortment of light. It would be very uncomfortable to sit in that chair; the ashtray suggests that the person sitting for this interview is going to be chain-smoking like crazy.

So far I've turned up no information about the artist or the outfit responsible for framing this print, identified by a sticker on the back as the Ferdinand Roten Galleries (formerly of 123 W. Mulberry Street, Baltimore). I'm also embarrassed to admit that I'm not sure exactly what kind of process was used to create this print. I *think* it's either an engraving or an etching (art historians, help me out here!). The hatching technique, which is visible near the circular lights on the left side, is often used in both of those printmaking processes.

Any questions? ;)

Goodwill Hunting: Bark-ing Up the Right Tree, $6.99

I found this lovely landscape painting at the FaithCentre thrift store in Bellefonte, PA. The painting appears to be finished, but the canvas is simply stretched over and stapled to a meager wooden frame. Some guy named Jim Schaal wrote his name three times on the back of the painting. Since the artist would have signed the front, I'm guessing Jim was an extremely possessive former owner of the work.

I can understand why he was so eager to claim this gem: just look at the amazing "topography" of the bark on that tree! Its raised, textured surface was the first thing to catch my eye, what with the bark extending nearly an inch from the canvas in the middle section of the tree. I think this effect was achieved using modeling paste, a white acrylic substance that can be molded onto a surface and then painted over.

Other things I love about this painting: the different brush techniques used to achieve the look of branches (long, thin strokes) and leaves (stippling); the beautiful colors, especially the orange that really pops; the reflection of the distant row of reeds in the water that draws your eye toward the horizon. It's the kind of scene you just want to crawl into, like a little bug exploring every nook and cranny of the knotty bark. I'm so happy to have this hanging on the wall opposite my front door, so that it's the first thing I see when I come home.

Goodwill Hunting: Tennis Ball Tree, $5.00

I'm not sure what kind of tree this is meant to resemble, but the fruits look like tennis balls to me! Maybe pears, if you're really squinting. This is another great find from the Goodwill on Padonia Road.

I've noticed a lot of what I'll call Embroidery Art at thrift stores lately. Perhaps this kind of hand-made decoration became really popular a few decades ago and is now finding its way into the secondhand stream, but I can't offer any kind of educated explanation for its ubiquity. This piece stood out because of it's unique design, with lots of negative space and great angles in the tree limbs. Even more interesting is the fact that the directions for making the embroidery are still affixed to the back of the frame, on a separate piece of paper. Presumably recorded by the creator him or herself at the top of the paper, the note reads: "Completed - 2/16/71 C. J. [?] Houston - Baltimore." So we know that this is over 30 years old, and that it was made here in Charm City. On a bit of blue paper pasted to the right of the directions, it's revealed that the work was custom framed by Ludwig Katzenstein, a company still in business today in nearby Lutherville.

The hand-drawn directions don't include any stitch counts or measurements, which would imply that the final product was stitched free-hand (impressive!). The names of the stitches used in embroidery are interesting--padded satin, coral, stem--but seemingly not at all self-explanatory.

What really drew me in when I saw this tree was how it seemed to echo some of the shapes and colors of the Bayeux Tapestry. It wouldn't seem out of place among the other stylized trees that separate the embroidered scenes narrating the Norman conquest of England, and it has inspired me to put down my knitting needles and crochet hooks and give embroidery a go! Maybe in 2050 some poor sap will buy the fruit of my labor--and let's hope it actually looks like fruit--from a futuristic Goodwill store (an oxymoron if ever there was one).

Goodwill Hunting: Librarian, $4.00

I picked this lovely lady up at a recently opened secondhand shop called Rags to Riches in Bellefonte, PA in July. Based on her no-nonsense expression, her fabulous sense of style and the book she holds in her left hand, I've decided to call this piece Librarian. I love her orange striped 1940s shirt dress and brown wedges and wish I could add this look to my own wardrobe (though I could do without the Anne-of-Green-Gables puff sleeves).

This watercolor was painted on a piece of thick art board measuring 10 inches wide by 20 inches high.  It was signed by the artist in the lower left corner; the inscription reads: "Carolyn Zielke - 12." I would guess that the 12 refers to Ms. Zielke's age, or perhaps the grade she was in when she painted this? I'm leaning toward the former theory. The gangly, longer-than-life-size arms and legs suggest that Carolyn was young and still learning how to draw figures with the correct proportions. But there is talent here: for example, the Librarian's skin is incredibly well done. Check out how evenly the wash was applied, and the delicate shading along the left side of all of her limbs--watercolor is not easy to work with, yet the lines are so precise.

I wonder when this was made: in the '40s, as the style of clothing would suggest, or much later? The board is in pretty good condition, with only some slight wear and a few faint stains here and there. Carolyn's beautiful cursive signature makes me think this was made mid-century, when school kids were still drilled in penmanship (a dying art, it seems, because we're typing most of the time now). I wonder if Carolyn had dreams of being a fashion designer, and invented this outfit on her own. The Librarian was one of four drawings by the artist for sale at Rags to Riches. The others included a yawning blond in pink pajamas; a woman in a blue dress; and a woman in an elegant green ball gown. I wish I'd bought the whole set, but it was a cash-only shop and I am so stingy about ATM surcharges.

I hung the Librarian up in my little dressing alcove so that she can inspire me to primp a little harder each morning as I get ready for work. If we're going to be shushing people all day, we might as well do it wearing gorgeous red lipstick and glossy pin curls!

Goodwill Hunting: Tom, the Piper's Son, $8.00

There are so many interesting things about this piece that I found at the Goodwill store on Padonia Road last autumn that I don't know where to start! It's made of wood, measuring about 8 1/2 inches wide by 12 inches high, and it features a young boy running with a piglet tucked under his left arm. Both characters are adorable, especially the piglet, who looks thrilled. His hooves and curlicue tail are all stretched out, as though he imagines he is flying through the air. The craftsmanship involved in its creation--through a process called marquetry--makes this panel even more intriguing.

I counted at least 42 separately cut, individually painted pieces of wood veneer in this design. Wow! Even details like the boy's eyebrows, and the tiny buttons on the cuffs of his jacket, were cut and placed in custom-made recessions in the underlying panel.

Without any textual clues on the front or back of this piece to help me understand the subject, I turned to Google. Searching for "boy running with pig" turned up an old children's nursery rhyme that I believe this piece illustrates. It goes like this:

Tom, Tom, the Piper's Son
Stole a pig and away did run
The pig was eat
And Tom was beat
And Tom went crying down the street

At first I was shocked to think that this innocent looking boy with his cute green short trousers and jacket (not to mention his fastidious, how-much-Brylcreem-did-that-take? side part) is whisking this pig away only to turn it into bacon. Turns out a "pig" is a kind of pastry, sort of like a miniature apple pie, which means this piece of art is also a visual pun.

Even better: the nursery rhyme served as inspiration for a Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoon meant to spoof Dragnet, one of my favorite shows to watch as a kid! Thrift Art simply doesn't get any better than this.

Goodwill Hunting: Horse, $4.00

UPDATE: Hi everyone, I'm Jessica! Lael asked me to kindly introduce myself, since this is my first post. I work as a visual resources librarian, which means I get to look at art all day, every day. I'm not at all artistically talented, so it's a good thing I like spectating. Someone once told me that if you can't do, teach; and if you can't teach, teach phys ed. I guess the philosophy behind my love of acquiring thrift store art is similar: if you can't make art, buy art; if you can't afford to buy art, dumpster dive for it!

When I first saw this piece at the Goodwill on Joppa Road I was struck by the negative space around the horse. The absence of any context made me think of Japanese woodblock prints featuring animals against neutral backgrounds (here's a 17th-century example by the artist Tanyu: Startled Horse). What I love most about this thrift shop find is the muted color palette and the fine detailing of the horse's hair, not to mention the gentle expression on his face.

On the back of the frame--which is coming loose at the corners and required some hammering together--is an old label from the Freeman Victorius Framing Shop in Charlottesville, VA, in business since 1938. This riderless horse has been hoofing it around the Mid-Atlantic for a long time, decades maybe, but he's found a new hitchin' post in my apartment.