There’s something special about a one-of-a-kind piece of art, furniture or craft that represents another culture. I’m not knocking Pier 1, World Market and, most recently, Target and the mass marketing of global design. But so often, it’s possible to buy a handmade piece for not a lot more than you pay for a mass-produced product. It seems as though the soul of the maker lingers in the idiosyncrasies and imperfections of these objects—making them what one St. Louis storeowner calls “global art.”
The spirit of a warrior, majestic and powerful, surely still dwells in the tremendous arched helmet from Africa at Faru Unlimited in The Loop (6329 Delmar, 314-727-1188, www.faru-faru-faru.com). Owner Helen Fabbri developed a passion for African masks, fetishes and textiles forty-some years ago, when she began traveling during her summer vacations from teaching. A college friend of hers is one of the largest dealers in Africa of fine artifacts from various countries. At $10,000, the warrior’s helmet is expensive, but Fabbri also carries less costly items, such as framed Kuba cloth and smaller carvings. I also was taken by the nkisi, carved wooden figures from the Congo with handmade nails driven into the wood to activate divine intervention.
Africa is just one of the continents represented at Faru. The store is also strong in traditional arts from the Southwest and from Mexico, notably Hopi Kachina figures carved by Clark Tenakhongva and Mata Ortiz and pottery by the family of Nicolas Quezada in northern Mexico. Some pots cost thousands, but others are very affordable—like the $75 black pot with three-dimensional lizards crawling along the rim.
The emphasis at MacroSun International (1310 Washington, 314-726-0222, www.macrosun.com) is on goods from Asia—from the Himalayas and beyond, in the words of owner Gil Williams, who on our visit was wearing a vintage blue and white Chinese farmer’s shirt. Luminescent celadon ceramics from Thailand contrast with winged dragons carved from a single piece of mahogany in Bali. Bronze and stone Buddhas are weighty counterpoints to the ethereal silk religious paintings called tankas. Prices range from a few dollars for a stick of incense to $1,500 for one of the 3-foot winged dragons. MacroSun also carries clothing and traditional musical instruments—gongs, sitars and something from Japan that plays like a xylophone.
Like Fabbri, Williams’ business grew out of his extensive travels, which have taken him to Nepal and other countries in east Asia. He, too, works directly with the artists whose work he sells. “I can give people a sense of the culture and the artist it comes from,” he says. “It’s not just something I’ve studied in a book—I’ve been there.”
Williams is more than just a loyal buyer; MacroSun is a member of the Fair Trade Federation, which ensures that artists receive a fair percentage of profit from the sale of their works.
My first impression walking into Salt of the Earth in Webster Groves (8150 Big Bend, 314-963-1919) is of color and whimsy. Partly it’s because so many of the objects are reflective—cut-tin mirror frames, hammered-copper sinks and glossy green ceramic canisters in the shape of pineapples, with every point on the pineapple skins hand-applied. Despite some highly refined Italian glassware, most of the inventory is from Mexico. Just inside the door, I pat the bellies of the cocucho, person-sized ceramic pots (priced from $245 to $550) with variegated skins created from the ash of the firing pit. Then I wonder what it would be like to sink chin-deep into a hot bath in the hammered-copper tub ($6,000) that puts me in mind of the Old West. My favorite objects, though, are the carved and brightly painted animals by Mexican artist Armando Jimenez. He creates movement and personality with the simplest of lines—the penguins waddle straight from Antarctica, baby possums dangle by their tails, a mountain goat scrambles as though climbing a rocky hill.
Michael Lynch, owner of Salt of the Earth, not only displays photographs of his artists, but also brings them to St. Louis to meet collectors. Jimenez visited last year and demonstrated his carving and painting process at area schools. Lynch spends weeks at a time in Mexico, driving from one village to another, knocking on doors, visiting old friends and making new ones, on the lookout for artisans of the future.
In many ways, Pier 1 and Target are increasing awareness of global culture. But Lynch, Williams and Fabbri are more than mere merchants. They are patrons of the world’s artists. For that, I’m grateful.
