The Furniture Pimp

Jim Walrod, in his Chippendale chair by Robert Venturi and Denise Scott Brown (1985).

Rarely, if ever, does furniture get its due as an artform. Most people treat furniture as functional; sure, it should look good, but few people dare beyond a danish modern sofa, Eames chairs, and Saarinen Tulip tables. These are all pieces of furniture I love, for sure, and would put in my own home if I had the means. They’d be juxtaposed with pieces that are a little more daring, however, that intrigue rather than appease. In the words of art critic Dave Hickey, “Bad taste is real taste, of course, and good taste is the residue of someone else’s privilege.”

Jim Walrod, who died last September at 56, was one of the few who dared—wildly. Throughout his illustrious career as an interior designers to the stars (his clients included David Bowie and Hester Diamond—Mike D of the Beastie Boys’ mother), owner of famed New York design store Form and Function, and curator for Patrick Parrish gallery and R & Company, Jim stayed one step ahead of the curve. He brought modernism to the public eye after two decades of heavy maximalism and shabby chic and, once that became the property of Dwell magazine, turned his attention toward Memphis design, the Italian group of designers from the early 1980s that produced whimsical, saturated furniture that were as much artworks as decor.

Ettore Sottsass, "Shiva Vase" (1985).

As Walrod himself put it, “There are two maestros as far as I’m concerned: Ettore Sottsass and Gaetano Pesce.” Jim’s Chinatown loft, located above a hardware store, was a testament to the artistic principles of these two luminaries. In a 2010 shoot for Apartamento, the space comes across as simultaneously stark—anchored by gray concrete floors and paper white walls—and welcoming, with its whimsical, bright, challenging furniture. This made the space difficult to look at at first, but for those who gave a second look, it was one of the most illustrious residences around. No one’s home looks that much fun, or does it?

Those who want a glimpse—or piece—of Walrod’s collection can have their dreams fulfilled. His furniture is being auctioned off by New York and Chicago-house Wright, and the 250-some works, ranging from chairs to cabinets to artworks, are nothing short of eye-popping. Who else would collect bright, abstract Memphis lamps and vases and pair them with Peter Halley paintings? To the average eye, such a mish-mash would verge on garish. To Jim, this combination was genius, provocative, an attempt to force people out of narrow design paradigms.

Jim’s lamps and vases warrant special attention. For one, they’re more attainable than many of the pieces in the auction. Moreover, their significance lies in the light they give off—not in the traditional illuminative sense, but because of their playful, fun appearances. Much like Jim, these pieces give no fucks. I didn’t know him, but his routine closure of Instagram posts with “Fuck Trump” was enough evidence that the man didn’t mince words. Take Michele de Lucchi’s “Sinerpica Lamp,” for instance. Designed in 1978, its futuristic appearance is more befit our current century than the one it originated in. The bright, svelte design is more sculpture than lamp, and the bright color scheme sets the tone for its compatriots.    

Or Sottsass’ “Shiva Vase,” the sort of penis that’s appropriate for display in the home. The phallic structure encourages us to watch and see what grows. The testicular bumps in the base support the shaft, for once not just drooping low and looking funny. When flowers are planted, the appearance is an ejaculation of sorts, the miracle of life in a life creator. The entendres are endless; buy this if you want a good conversation starter for cocktail parties.

Walrod, on the cover of Apartmento magazine, with Nicola L's "La Femme Commode" (1969/1993).

Likewise with Nicola L’s fabulous cabinet “La Femme Commode” and Pesce’s “Watch Me” clock. If one wants to make a home filled with body-part furniture and art, they’d do well mining Walrod’s collection. All ribbing aside, these pieces are rare find and warrant a second look. Nicola L has spent her career making functional sculptures depicting the female body, from cabinets to lamps and tables. The variation of “La Femme Commode” Walrod owned is bright orange, the drawer’s knobs indicating distinguishing facial features and sex organs. Pesce’s clock is less naked, a study in blue (three shades are outlined by a bright red) and a meditation on timelessness. Only the 12 and 6 are visible. There’s an eye where the 3 belongs, and the 9 (and other numbers) are absent. Then again, if you’re after a Pesce clock, you’re likely not much concerned with time at all.

Walrod’s art collection is nothing to sneeze at, either, and is an extension of his furniture preferences. Ever the ladies’ man, Jim adorned his walls with ribald, modern nudes from intrepid New York reprobates. Photographer Richard Kern is well represented in Walrod’s collection—though in more discreet works than the full-frontal coquettes of his “Contact High” fame—as are the racier, revealing works of painter Joe Andoe. Not all of Walrod’s artwork—and furniture—dealt with concepts of the body and sex, however. His Mark Gonzales pieces (whom he acquired his Chinatown loft from) are comical low art at its finest, and his Lawrence Weiner posters are a far cry from those adorning most men’s walls (fellows, take note).

Johanna Grawunder, "XXX" table (2009).

These works are just a smattering of The Furniture Pimp’s (a nickname coined by Mike D) collection. Who can forget the so-ugly-they’re-pretty Queen Anne and Chippendale chairs by Robert Venturi and Denise Scott Brown, the multitude of Peter Shire ceramics, and the various Memphis bric a brac, not to mention the kaleidoscopically beautiful Johanna Grawunder “XXX” table (my personal favorite piece)? Times like these make me wish I had an extra five to 20 grand laying around to indulge my personal decorating pleasures, but for now, browsing and studying the deep catalog satisfies my yen. It’s fitting that Jim sent his pieces to auction, because he wanted everyone to know about his latest find or favorite designer (his Instagram was a crash course on furniture). And if people take notice and start treating their homes and furniture as works of art, well, we have Jim to thank.