Opinion & Thought, Sartoria

The Curator

When I was about ten years old, like several of my friends, I had a stamp collection. It proved to be a transient interest, and I never did progress to being a fully-fledged philatelist. Dusty stamps were soon replaced by the collecting of numbers of (equally dusty) 1970s diesel railway locomotives. Even though I didn’t realise it at the time, I witnessed the protracted swansong of traditional steam-era railway infrastructure in the U.K. before it was massively transformed into the modern system we have today.

In their time, locomotive numbers were replaced by LPs, then CDs. The latter collection still exists; I haven’t gone the digital route, in part because my obscure tastes don’t always make it to the big digital download stations, and partly because I still like to have a tangible manifestation of my listening.

All that said, I have never really considered myself an avid collector of anything – if nothing else, I am not a great fan of massive accumulations of stuff, especially non-productive stuff. But somewhere in the mix, it also needs to be acknowledged that the urge to collect does seem to run quite deep in the human psyche. Maybe it is nothing more than a primitive urge to hoard the provisions needed for survival…?

But I feel more at home with the word curation – which, although it has overtones of the rarified atmosphere of fine art connoisseurs, recently seems to have gained wider currency. Perhaps there is something more intentional about curating, rather than simply accumulating that which happens to become available. Maybe the word also implies a sense of restraint, as in knowing when to stop – whereas the only thing to do to remain a collector is to carry on collecting ad infinitum…. Perhaps there is also an overtone of caring for one’s items, which again seems a little more productive than just archiving them.

And so, the word seems to have gained traction for me with respect to three things that, while hardly constituting collections, do seem to have value in the judicious assembly and management thereof:

  1. My wardrobe. I recently became aware that classic menswear is apparently having a moment, not that you would know from observing the average British street. I don’t collect clothes in the sense of wanting ever more – but there is something undeniably satisfying about assembling and then maintaining a meaningful and coherent wardrobe. This has become stronger as I have learned more about Italian tailoring which is my preferred style. It is perhaps easier for men, inasmuch as their classic style has a stronger code than the relative freeform of female scene, and thus it is perhaps a little easier to know what is needed. I will admit that opening a wardrobe to find a considered collection of appealing things to wear is very satisfying.  I have even learned to brush my shoes regularly.
  2. Our home. The great thing about modern interior design is its lack of constraint from traditional notions of what an interior requires: no three-piece suites here. There is far more freedom of form and composition possible with modern approaches. I bring the consideration of design to bear on any and everything our home needs: when one appreciates the way that good design can transform even mundane items into things of satisfaction, why would one not? So inadvertently, we seem to have created a small collection of modernist design with pieces from the 1930s to the present represented. People don’t seem to see anything odd in collecting antiques – but doing the same with modern pieces….?
  3. Our art works. That sounds terribly grand, but we are hardly in the league of collecting Picassos. What we have done is amass a small but pleasing selection of contemporary ceramics, mostly from makers in our region of eastern England, but also occasionally further afield. More recently, we have added a couple of original paintings. Viewed collectively, they add great visual richness to the experience of being in our home, to the extent that we sometimes have the pleasant sensation of living in a small art gallery.

None of which adds up to being avid collectors of anything – but somehow, the gentler sense of curating one’s possessions does enhance the process of owning things that we either need, or which more likely, just please us…

Opinion & Thought

Catharsis.

I was told that blogs were dead and buried. Yesterday’s news. No one reads them any more. Yet over a thirty-month content drought, I have kept Sprezzatura alive, and much to my surprise, there has continued to be a reasonable level of traffic.

As any long-time readers will know, this blog was indeed intended to be catharsis – for my own mind during a difficult period of my life, and hopefully by extension, others in need of some soothing of their own. At least one item ended up in print, in a magazine-feature on mental health. It’s about things that can make our lives both materially and mentally better; things that are often perceived as rarefied, but which I believe we exclude to our detriment; things whose relevance for their own lives, people often seem to dismiss – but about which I utter a defiant “I do!”

I think catharsis is still most definitely required; life is no less perplexing than it was when I started writing back in 2017. I still think that over-indulgence doesn’t help, but neither does denial; that trying to find that sweet-spot between cloying self-centredness and hair-shirt abstemiousness, of treating oneself legitimately well is a valid and necessary quest.

A criticism might be that this blog is about expensive things – but it mostly isn’t. True, many good things come with a cost attached – but it’s about being and doing as well as having; in general, it’s about the act of appreciation. When it comes to spending, I have often found that it is not the amount that matters, so much as how it is deployed – what tolerance one does or doesn’t have for inferior things, and how much work one is willing to put into finding something better – where cost can be substituted with effort. It’s also about accepting that, as Terence Conran advocated, simplicity can often be better than bling. Coming back to the original Italian meaning of the word, sprezzatura is not really about living life expensively, but imaginatively. But on occasions, I can’t deny that it helps to believe that one really is “worth it”.

The lack of recent posts is not down to a sudden loss of faith, so much as the fact my own life resumed something of its prior pace, and to be honest, I felt that I had rather exhausted my message at the time. However, more of life’s ups and downs, and the chance of a series of conversations over the last year have made me think that it is time to say and share more.

I’ve once again had to fall back on my resilience, as there having been some challenging times over the past couple of years. Even as I thought I was perhaps past that bad period, more of life’s sadnesses arose, not least the loss of a good friend over two years to cancer, and some less serious but still worrying health concerns of my own. At such times, it is all the more important to try to keep one’s spirits up – and I have become increasingly aware of the power of ‘grounding’ – trying to anchor oneself in the present, to appreciate the good things that we experience and not to get unduly strung up about what might happen next.

This positive thinking is something that we can actively cultivate, and I have come to suspect that doing so has a practical impact on both our state of mind and our wider quality of life, as lived day-to-day.

So I think the time may now be ripe to reprise this blog, if perhaps not as intensively as before; as I move towards retirement, there are certainly many projects and events that are worthy of coverage, and if the reading of my esoteric and eclectic search for a ‘well-lived life’ provides catharsis to others as well, then all to the good.