SWEET HOME
This Joburg town house is a haven filled with its imaginative owner’s memories, art and simple pleasures
Emanating earthy warmth and a sense of gentle wisdom, this Gallo Manor town house offers a voyage of discovery into owner Sandra Stevenson’s personal history and heritage. As Sandra walks me through the house in which she has lived for 20 years, it becomes clear that every little thing inside it holds meaning and memory for the engineering planner. “I’m a collector, but it’s not the price that gives things value for me,” says Sandra. “It’s about how much I like it or what it represents to me, what it reminds me of. I’m sentimental.”
Sandra’s family tree is filled with painters and a love of art was instilled in her as a youngster. “As a child I visited galleries and always wanted to buy artworks.” A large Andrew Hollis painting hangs in the dining room, picking up colours from the Anthropologie vases her daughter bought for her. Among the lovely Linware items from her mother, there are also vases unearthed at antique shows. “I’d rather save to buy art than new curtains,” says Sandra, who paints and sketches as a hobby.
Items that alone would be lost but in groups demand attention are delicately placed on tables and in stairways, winking in nooks and crannies. Gemstones and shells nestle in Chinese bowls and wooden pots. Hanging beads and shiny necklaces are worn and then displayed. In the passage, a reproduction of Johannes Vermeer’s Girl with a Pearl
Earring and a modernist portrait of her daughter hang next to each other. “I like to feather my nest, but I never buy anything in a hurry,” says Sandra. “It takes time for me to make up my mind.”
The family heirlooms that populate her abode lend it a depth that echo Sandra’s solid persona. In the living room is an antique ironing table that belonged to her great-aunt, for example. “It’s damaged but I don’t care,” says Sandra. On it, a unique lamp that belonged to her grandfather as well as her daughter’s copper baby shoes are thoughtfully arranged. “I’ve hardly bought any furniture; most of it belonged to my parents or grandparents,” she says. In her bedroom, the wooden chest of drawers, woven chair, side tables and bench at the foot of the bed are all inherited. Above Sandra’s bedside table is a painting of trees by one of her favourite artists, Nicky Leigh.
“If it’s something I really want, then I save for it and pay it off,” she says – happiness obtained from finally being able to look at the desired piece on her own wall. A single parent since her child was two, Sandra is now saving for her daughter’s wedding.
Sandra’s work has taken her around the world and some treasures have made their way back home with her. She lived in Perth for a year, but found it very authoritarian, she says. “Russia and the Andes were both mind-blowing,” Sandra tells me, “but Malindi in Kenya and Lake Kariba in Zimbabwe are also places I love.”
She points out Kenyan wooden fish admired for their craftsmanship and a precious painting of baobabs bought in Australia, which reminds her of the red soil there. The monk’s bench with the tapestry cushion made by Sandra was bought in Knysna. As she shows me a 1920s zebra-painted plate hanging on the wall that belonged to her grandfather, it falls down and shatters. I am horrified. “It happens,” says Sandra calmly. “Now I can put something else there.”
Outside in the garden is an oasis of delightful scents, mix-and-match plants, yellow lemons, cabbages, copper artworks by her aunt, colorful flora and buzzing insects. The small but vibrant space, which Sandra plants herself, brings her much joy.
It’s an enclave filled with simple gems: some of her pottery perches on the wall, broken crockery lies in pots and large shells and coral rest on a mosaic table. This garden is where the broken heirloom plate will probably come to rest, shedding its secrets into the soil, laying down roots and telling another soulful story of Sandra’s life.