A personal seminal event occurred in NYC years ago when traveling with my friend Clay. We went to a commercial gallery associated with the Whitney, and on the back wall they had installed metal outdoor roofing. OMG, it was one of those moments where you worry about not having had that experience because it looms so important in your life story.
Since then, and that was the eighties, old fashioned metal roofing has been used in traditional or nontraditional ways on every building I have built or refurbished. It is such a statement about southern culture. Above is Glenn’s sculpture studio in the new barn. He brought this old roofing from his acreage in Missouri, so installed here is part of his old homestead in his new space. You can see a bit of the actual tin roof that covers the whole barn at the top of the image.
This is the entry to my old studio, now more of a guest house, and this building is also covered in and out, with metal roofing. Below, we are under this porch roof, and looking out to the “big” house, which is glowing under its tin roof.
When my daughter was about seventeen, the two of us installed the ceiling tin in the guest house. What a job, cutting and drilling above our heads.
At the table above are two examples of aluminum side chairs from WWII. They are light as a feather and were made for use in submarines. They introduce my other cheap metal love, aluminum, especially “hammered”. Below, Glenn’s latest piece stands in silhouette along with a couple of my camera-shy mosaics. The ceiling illuminates the window to one of the gardens.
Don’t get me going about the aforementioned hammered aluminum, or old chrome tubed dinette sets. We will be here forever.
Synchronicity: As I write this post, the building supply company’s truck just drove up with the metal roofing for our new addition. Isn’t it grand when actual life is like a strange movie? And the movie is about tin roofs?