The Permanent Collection

Herb and Dorothy Vogel started collecting art when there were young and broke, and they never stopped.  They bought little pieces when they could, all on the salary of a mailman and a librarian.  By the time they were in their 80s, they had a renowned collection of almost 5000 pieces of modern art in their tiny apartment, which they donated to the National Gallery.   (The gallery insisted on giving them a small stipend to help with medical expenses and such, and Herb and Dorothy immediately went out and spent it on more art).  The documentary is on Netflix and is one of my favorites.

We're no Herb and Dorothy but we like having bits of art around.  Here's the collection so far (click on any image to enlarge):

"Strawberry Ice" by David Goines,  an illustration from a Chez Panisse cookbook.  I like the fact that it's in a strawberry frame.

Yes, I seem to have a thing for overhead wires.  I kind of like the urban grit-- blame it on R. Crumb.  These are by Mark Brabant, a local Cleveland artist.  The titles are "The Day's Last Lesson" and "Orionids"

Danged if I can remember the name of this artist.  I believe she's a Japanese-American woman, and she did a whole series of prints of cats.  This was a birthday present to E.  I called the gallery on the phone to order it, and the woman who answered was Japanese and barely spoke English.  I  said, "It's a print of a cat with it's leg in the air, kind of like a chicken leg."  She came back and said, "Picture has cat, leg points to ceiling?"  Once again, art transcends language.

My uncle Paul Brown was an architect by trade, but took up painting in his later years.  I'm really grateful to have this piece to remind me of him.

Judy Chicago, "The Dinner Party".  You can see our blueprint installation, and the chubby photographer, in the reflection.

St. Theodosious by Cleveland artist Timothy Herron.  I commissioned this piece for our anniversary, and we all collaborated on the subject and perspective.   Yes, I'm the one who requested that the wires be included.  Timothy has a home and gallery he calls "The Manly Pad" in Tremont, and it features an eclectic bunch of art, stuffed tiger dioramas, and other strange things.  He was excited to be mentioned in the director's commentary on "American Splendor", a documentary about beloved Cleveland artist Harvey Pekar.

"Sinister Tabby," by Clare Elsaesser.  This looks exactly like our cat C.

Maybe not art, but this is our installation of the blueprints to our house, built in 1940.  E found, reproduced, and framed the prints shortly after we bought the house as a present to me.

E found this at local antique shop.  It's signed "HANAVAN" and is the other piece that we have that is actually oil on canvas, and not a print.

Barbara Smoloff is a local Cleveland "outsider"artist.  E bought me a custom piece of art from her for Christmas, and Barbara and I will be meeting soon to decide what we want to create.  You can friend Barbara on Facebook and check out her other pieces.  [Update: it took six months, but we finally got together and picked our piece.  Thanks Barbara, keep drawing!]

Susan Fiori, "Sweetbriar"

I don't know the artist or origin of this piece.  It's signed "Niel Filiue Der" or something.  Very Danish 1960's hippy dippy love stuff.

A photo of the Congress Hotel in Chicago, by our friend Eric Paige.

A piece by Nicole Ray based on the poem "Days" by Billy Collins.  "Just another Wednesday you whisper, then holding your breath, place this cup on yesterday's saucer without the slightest clink."

A piece by a little artist you may have heard of, Pablo Picasso?  It was $49 at IKEA, but I kind of like it.

Update: I bought this piece by Pittsburgh artist CZM.  My parents had both just died and I was weary from a month of constant death and illness, so E and I ran away to Pittsburgh to distract me a little.  This work has nothing to do with my parents, it just made me instantly happy and connected at a time when those feelings were in short supply.

I have to confess that prior to meeting E, my art collection consisted mostly of MC Escher and other velvet-Elvis quality posters-- one more aspect of my life greatly improved by E's presence in it.

We're hardly afficianados and the Guggenheim almost never calls, but I like our little art collection.