Before I had ever put Marcel Duchamp together with anything in particular, I was haunting a place that sold mostly European architectural details – great French stone fireplace fronts, putti, mirrors, garden ornaments, and the like. I love things on extreme scales – very small or very large, and most of these things, having come from very large places, were essentially giant sized when you consider the economy of space in your typical 18th century house. I had some grandiose scheme, I think, of using one of those fireplaces in the garden. I was raised with the notion of a secret garden – and mine has been planned for years. I would be built within the high stone foundations of a ruined abby, maybe, and would include at least one really great fireplace. Ah, yes.
But one time when I was wandering there, I found, in a corner, tucked behind some urn or another, a bottle drying rack from a French winery. This was something that appealed to something so visceral in me that I could not NOT buy it. I like the bones of the thing, the ordinary purpose for which it was designed. Apparently, Marcel Duchamp felt the same way – so he took one, signed it, and not long after I purchased mine, his sold at auction for some really bizarre price – lots and lots of money. I have the article around here somewhere because someone sent it to me. Mine looks mostly like this image I found on Pinterest – except that mine is actually covered with bottles and white lights and sits out on my deck year round, loaded fully with the 100 bottles it holds. Which, by the way, makes it somewhat easier to accept and drink bizarre bottles of wine just because they come in colored bottles. Or try to drink them. I am not always successful. Bless the Germans, though, for their use of blue glass with decent summer wines…
Which, of course, gives me a ready source for bottles. The rapidly melting snow from yesterday’s storm gives me a place to bed the bottles long enough to take a picture. It is all working this morning.