Chelsea Gallerista

VIDEO: Dane Owen talks about the Boro, or "tattered rags" used to describe patched and repurposed kimonos. If you ever venture across the Brooklyn Bridge to Dumbo, possibly headed for the ultra-hip (in a rustic way)  Vinegar Hill House restaurant for brunch, make sure you stumble around the corner to visit Shibui . Dane recently restored this Japanese Step Tansu. From the Facebook post : "I would say it was early Meiji c1880. It was made with hand forged nails and hinges . Mortised and tenoned joinery. Hinoki wood frame. I have 3 other Kaidan on the website , one is a little smaller but they are real so they have to be big enough to get to the second floor and deep enough so you wont fall off."  It's a treasure trove of old Japan in a cavernous, cement floor garage. The owner Dane Owen, a Santa Fe native, pops up from behind a great wall of tansu (Japanese storage cabinets, no doubt the Ikea of old Japan at the time) as a walking Wikipedia of Jap

Along 9th Ave in Chelsea are some eclectic little home decor stores that have every right to be called galleries - they sell eye candy you can actually afford - and display in your own gallery at home. One store I always enjoy popping into is NEST. It's perfectly sited to catch the loft-proud gay neighborhood, selling objets d'art and jewelry that you find yourself gazing for longer than usual, and turning over and over in your hands. It actually feels like a little sparrow's nest, full of treasures plucked from around the traps - not too minimalist, not too maximalist, not too ethnic, new agey, or mass produced, not too self consciously hip.  Just plain interesting. You can tell that each and every piece has been selected with thought, then placed in the tiny shop like it was your tiny studio apartment. It's curated by owners Lana Sexton and Henry Stozek, a refreshingly 'tude free duo who don't hide behind a billboard-sized iMac pretending you aren'

UPDATE March 2014: Great article about Wendell's latest freestylin' furniture FOR once at a gallery opening, it was obvious who the artist was. On the wall:  a photo of a bearded gent sporting Kermit-on-acid green spectacles and a pinstriped jacket.  Floating around the room was a person matching that exact picture. Bingo! I've always thought the artist should always wear a sash or button at his/her reception saying "Ask me about my art!" I guarantee that "is there artist here?" is the #1 thought bubble at these openings. He or she is not necessarily the nouveau Warhol in the shredded jeans and impossibly pointy boots, or the artsy one in the middle of a huddle. And it's embarrassing to think you just wandered blithely past him/her or worse, asking where the restroom is. But I digress. Wendell Castle's exhibition at Barry Friedman gallery featured "12, unique stack-laminated wood chairs", hand carved by this 77-year old