Wonderfully worn.

No, I’m not thinking of old clothes, or those Van Gogh boots that have become such old friends they can’t be thrown out. Instead, I was contemplating how narrow cobbled streets, wobbly medieval buildings, ancient cathedrals with worn away stone thresholds are gateways to a history more tangible than words in books.   

Antique furniture, old tools, hand-me-down toys, and objects from every oeuvre of domestic life resonate because they have a story to tell. Like a 3D painting of time and use, they are a record of personal history, through their self-evident wear, repair, abuse and care.

The current obsession of keeping things shiny new, with materials, like plastic coating, that don’t age and are hard to maintain when they fail, needs challenging. Expectation of maintenance means you keep an eye on furniture, respect windows and floors, encourage a relationship between the user and the artefact. Repairs contribute. The skill of hardworking hands and the receipt of handed-down practice add layers of history to the objects we use. 

It would be ideal to select materials for their ease to work, as well as their capacity to grow old with grace. Green thinking accepts ageing; natural materials do it better than man made. Unless things return to earth or degrade, then they can’t be recycled. They end up in landfills and deprive future generations of resources. Green thinking should embrace a philosophy of maintenance and celebrate the aesthetics of wear.

In Wahi-Sabi for Artists, Designers, Poets and Philosophers, Leonard Koren writes: ‘Things Wahi Sabi are expressions of time frozen and made of materials that are visibly vulnerable to the effects of weathering and human treatment. They record the sun, wind, rain, heat and cold in a language of discoloration, rust, tarnish, stain,warping, shrinking, shrivelling and cracking.’

How beautifully expressed and relevant to today’s fake consumerist values of obsolescence.

Cast iron casserole with wooden handle first made by Iitala in 1960. Once celebrated on a Finnish postage stamp. Combining design usability with a traditional cast iron pot, Timo Sarpaneva’s inspiration came from his blacksmith grandfather. Image from Iitala.

The recession is closing in on minimalism. Sleek, cool, mono-aesthetics for people who don’t want to actually live in their homes is so last year. Goodbye as well to souless power kitchens where any signs of life are verboten. There are no remnants of actual cooking, with everything cleared up before you can say, “We’ve had a great dinner.”

Minimalism costs a lot. Less is meant to be much, much more and the punters want you to know it, the reverse of what you would hope. Hidden hinges, skirting boards, massive wall to ceiling cupboards, wide floor boards, frameless doors and windows do not come cheaply. It’s a statement of control and the power to impress. I must admit that one wants order if the chaos and clutter become too invasive, but it only takes a single glance at a Russian Oligarch style banker penthouse apartment and I quickly want my clutter back. These swanky pads are destined for people who don’t want homes but swanky hotel rooms, fully owned but barely lived in. If these minimalist interiors were once our aspirational home models, they are no longer.

All of this is not an attack on modernism, but merely a realisation that its true heart lies in a more accommodating and instinctual approach. When you visit Charles and Ray Eames’ Case Study house in the Palisades, you get a full taste of how they lived with found objects adorning walls and tables, a huge low level trolley on which sits a portable jungle – moved around the room according to mood. You can feel how much they loved living there.  Minimalism is grand standing for interior designers and frustrated architects who made an alliance with overly rich domestic control freaks. Letting designers impose a strong style statement is only justifiable if it makes people feel comfortable. In these troubled economic times, I suspect we are going to loose our interest in high status interiors and go for simpler, instinctual designs that cater to basics, such as functional well-made furniture, creating the right ambience with access to outdoors, sunlight, natural materials, and things handmade to last.  IKEA stuff that looks great but quickly deteriorates seems wasteful and unecological.  We will learn to accept that things will wear, and should be worthy of repair.  There will still be room for pattern and decoration and texture, but it will be chosen more for provenance and mood and less for fashion.

What could come out of this financial crisis that would be good is support for artisans in all aspects of home renovation, with a concomitant desire for authenticity and less bling, more confident personal expression, the use of found objects, expanding the use of junk shops and repairing things. Careful choice exercised whilst purchasing things will be allied to the end of anti-mess behaviour at home and the minimalist lifestyle.

A scene from Spielberg’s Artificial Intelligence. While the situation seems perfectly normal on the surface, the kitchen table represents an emotional connection between the family.

“We need to find a place where we are safe; We walk into that which we cannot yet see. Say it plain, that many have died for this day. Sing the names of the dead who brought us here, who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges, picked the cotton and the lettuce, built brick by brick the glittering edifices they would then keep clean and work inside of. Praise song for struggle; praise song for the day. Praise song for every hand-lettered sign; The figuring it out at kitchen tables.”

How welcome it was to hear Elizabeth Alexander’s phrase (as above but with an ‘at’ in the middle) near the end of her poem at Obama’s inauguration. It reminded me of the domestic role of the kitchen table. It serves as the centre of family communication, a subliminal peacekeeper, gently designed to encourage conversation. Older generations might think these experiences belong in the dining room. Today, such communication most often occurs in the kitchen.

In holistic design terms, the value of a decent-sized, well-positioned table is on a par with prepping space, storage cupboards and sink cabinets. In psychological terms, it occupies the number one spot for creating family well-being. If ever a piece of furniture deserved a place in the family, it would surely be a table.

There is a saying, ‘what is good for the family is good for the nation’. Curious as to the contemporary symbolism attached to the kitchen table, I set out to explore.  Images on Google are plentiful, kitchen tables in films feature numerously and references to kitchen cabinets and sinks add interesting companions. There seems to be a kind of barefoot element to references for things that emanate from the kitchen table, implying things done simply or by the boot straps, with a down-to-earth approach. Examples of contemporary books include: Kitchen Table Counseling: A Practical and Biblical Guide for Women Helping Others; and Making peace at the table and building healthy eating habits. According to Google, there are 767 books on making peace around the kitchen table, including one by my namesake, John Gray.

The table, with its 15 multiple meanings and deviations (according to dictionary.com) allows you to ‘table a motion for peace, present figures or a graph to explain statistics, put an idea on the table, be under the table, i.e. drunk, or turn the tables and gain the upper hand or simply receive table service in a restaurant’.

Before 900 AD, a ‘table’ referred to either a plank for eating off, or a tableau for writing on. Both of these definitions are applicable to our current project, speculating on the creation of a socialable kitchen for the Obamas.

With all of these symbolic connotations, what is the role of the kitchen table in the White House? What would Obama think about our initiative to turn the Oval Yellow Room on the second floor into kitchen? Historically, the Yellow Oval Room has been used by first ladies to entertain female dignitaries on occasions of peace initiatives. This could provide an authentic environment for an oval kitchen table where all have full eye contact with everyone else sitting around the table. Regardless, The kitchen table will always be there waiting for the First Family to gather round for all of the nation’s most important decisions.