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Every weekday morning and evening, I traverse the avenues and streets connecting New York City’s Grand Central Terminal and my office by foot—a roughly 20-minute jaunt. No matter what the weather conditions, I’m out there chugging along, raptly documenting the dynamic, ever-changing sidewalk show with my camera. About a year ago, I started taking pictures of worn furnishings that had been set out for trash pickup. Manhattan is famous for the many extraordinary, sometimes priceless pieces that find their way to the curb and then into the apartments of people with the fortitude and resourcefulness to haul them home and give them new life.
But let me be clear—these are not the sorts of pieces I happen upon. No, the pieces I take notice of and shoot have neither provenance nor potential—and they will surely reach the landfill by dawn. They are forlorn, dejected, and yet…evocative.
I can’t help but wonder how they have lived and with whom, what led to their rejection and ultimate abandonment? Did they fail to perform their duties well? Were they overused, abused, or neglected? Or did they merely overstay their welcome? Removed from their natural context and facing excile, these castoffs speak of human surroundings and attitudes toward material possessions—of the stranglehold of acquisition and the hunger for all that is new and shiny, of utility and disposability. I guess there are way more than eight million stories to be told amid the mounds of plastic bags on the sidewalks of New York…— Donna Sapolin, VP/Editor-in-Chief
Have you ever plucked a piece of furniture or fixture from the trash, resuscitated it, and given it shelter? Are you a rescuer of forlorn-furniture? E-mail your photos and comments to homemag@hfnm.com (reference Curbside Decor in the subject line).
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