In praise of a simple wooden bowl, an irresistible slice of Canadiana
I am a big believer in the entire category of the wooden bowl. It makes for a fabulous gift, because you can use it for salads (and wood really is best for salads), or, if it’s handsome and sizable enough, like this one, you can simply plonk it down on the middle of a table and either fill it with fruit or nuts or decorative glass balls, or simply enjoy its elegance as a non-utilitarian, yet statuesque object of beauty.
I feel the same way about handwoven straw baskets. I’ve rarely encountered a truly great one without having to take it home with me, regardless of how inconvenient this might prove, even when travelling on connecting, oversubscribed flights, and in economy.
Just to say, in the opinion of some I will not name for fear of reprisal, my own personal collection of both handwoven baskets and wooden bowls is already extensive.
Hence my initial reluctance to snap this puppy up, even if it is such a wonderfully pale (maple?) hue and has a cute maple leaf with the word “Canada” stamped on its underside. Plus, it was only $40!
I could give it to one of my kids, I reasoned, when I came across it at the west-end warehouse of Vintage Fine Objects. Both of my children live abroad and would love it as a slice of Canadiana that’s even useful. (Except that neither of them are quite as fond of dragging large artisanal wares through international airports so at least for now it’s joined my collection.)
Oh well. Part of the reason I bought it I suppose was that I could. Like the other 6,423 followers of Vintage Fine Objects, I almost always find myself fresh out of luck whenever Kevin Austin posts one of his treasures on Instagram.
It’s like trying to hit the buzzer when you know the answer on Jeopardy: the very second I scroll across a @vintagefineobjects post, whatever fetching item Austin has just uploaded a photo of has already been snatched up by someone quicker at texting back than I am. And then, even if you are the lucky winner of this live, online auction, you have to make arrangements to pick it up at Austin’s warehouse.
In the period I now refer to as B.I., or Before Instagram, I would actually argue it was a lot easier to shop, particularly for antiques. Austin, who’s always had a great eye for pretty things, used to have a small curiosity shop at Yonge St. and Summerhill Ave., but now, what’s the point in paying commercial rent when you can just hawk your wares on social media?
“With a few Instagram posts, I make more in a day now than I ever did when I had a store,” Austin told me. “I get buyers now for even little things like vases from Australia and Japan.”
It’s all a little overwhelming, the twists and turns of this new hyper-global, digitized world. Vindication, in my view, for the acquisition of such simple, handmade delights as wooden bowls.