KEEPSAKE CHRONICLES
Romancing the Past
Otium Cum
Dignitate
PART 1
One sunny spring afternoon, a woman walked through the studio's front door and inquired about having a desk chair refinished. Little did I know the complex story that this chair would come to tell.
Pam's older sister, Elaine, was turning forty. Since their father, Paul, had passed away 32 years ago, their grandmother had had their father's office desk chair. Now that their grandmother had passed away, Pam thought it would be a special gift to give to her sister. After hearing this story, I gave my thoughts to Pam on the many possibilities open to us in creating a commemorative gift. I told Pam that I didn't want to have conversations with her. Instead, I wanted her to leave me midnight messages on my answering machine and early morning notes through the mail slot in my front door. I felt that receiving these bits of meaning and memories here and there would spark my creative juices and result in a more original piece than long, detailed discussions.
One message that came through our mail slot mentioned that Paul, the father, had been a captain in the army, and Pam had his military hat. Other messages were, "I have our Scottish clan colors," and "I found the recipe for Scottish shortbread cookies that my sister and I used to bake with Grandma, and I put them through your front door mail slot this morning." The pièce de resistance was, "I have the needlework from the pillow that my grandmother did of the national flower of Scotland, the thistle."
The big day came. Pam took Elaine out for a birthday lunch and shopping, and they "just happened" to drive by the studio. Pam suggested, "Why don't we go in and inquire about having Dad's chair restored?"
After talking to them for a couple of minutes about their request – and following "our script" – I told the women that we just happened to have finished one that I thought was similar to what they were talking about. "Would you like to see it?"
PART 2
I led the two sisters to a room in the back of the studio and motioned toward a red curtain with a chair sitting in front of it. Astonished eyes opened wide, Elaine took in a huge breath. What she saw was her dad's chair restored to a gleaming walnut finish, with a handmade canvas seat cushion painted with their family clan colors, grandma's cookie dish piled high with shortbreads, her father's military cap resting on the cushion. Pam had brought down three wine glasses and a bottle of wine. She said to Elaine, "Happy birthday, Sis. I love you!" After the exchange of hugs, Pam and I got Elaine to sit down in the chair with her Dad's military cap. We each had a glass of wine and some cookies.
Now the real fun begins. After that first glass of wine, I said to Elaine, "Wouldn't you like to give you sister a unique thank-you?" She said, "How can I do that?" I asked Elaine if she remembered the limbo, and I got her to get down on her knees to thank her sister. But I kept repeating, "Limbo, limbo – go lower, girl! Go lower!" I finally got her low enough to look under the chair seat, and that's when she got her real surprise. We had used her grandmother's pillow needlework of the thistle to model a composition sculpture of the thistle under the chair seat. In a semi-circle around the thistle were the words "Otium Cum Dignitate." With tears in her eyes, she asked, "What does that mean?" Pam then stepped in and said, "Sis, you remember the family motto: "Leisure with Dignity"?" And Elaine said, "Of course." Then I said, "Charles Rene MacIntosh was the world-renowned founder of the Glasgow School of Art. He was also a designer and would title his renderings in Latin. So we used his font style and translated your family motto into Latin and scripted it out around the sculpted thistle under the chair seat."
"My God!" she exclaimed, "I own something that's not only beautiful, but totally one of a kind!" I will never forget the look on her face.
