The other day in our house, a family member was overheard saying: “Why in hell are there so many heads in this place?”
To which I responded: “What are you talking about?”
I mean, sure, I’ve been known to purchase the odd figural head or two. Case in point: this Bjorn Wiinblad candleholder for the Rosenthal porcelain company:
Come to think of it, I have two Wiinblad heads. The other is a dark blue candelabra which I have chosen to use for a plant, despite my black thumb:
In case you didn’t know, Wiinblad was a very successful mid-century designer and ceramicist known for his whimsical faces and forms. You can see his influence in Jonathan Adler’s Utopia line, for one. And once you have one Wiinblad head, you’ll want another to keep it company. In fact, I just realized I have a third:
There it is! Left of the papier mache head by mid-century artist Gemma Taccogna . . .
. . . and to the far left of my 19th-century plaster phrenology head:
Okay, okay. So that’s a fair number of heads. But when you see a 19th century phrenology head, how can you NOT buy it? Besides, I think that about does it . . . unless. Wait. I forgot about the Indian bronze:
Oh, right — and there’s my silver memento mori skull:
But in all fairness to me, that shouldn’t count. It’s a skull, not a head, after all.
So okay — I have a lot of heads. But it’s not out of control. It’s not like the house is totally over-run with noggins.
Oh, CRAP. I suppose I should mention my wood hat stand/wig mold. He’s BFF’s with my antique marionette head:
See how they really put their heads together? You know what they say — two heads are better than one. Or seven.
So yeah, you might say I have a thing for heads. You might also say that I’m unstable. Go ahead, mock me. Do your worst. I’m not threatened. I have a guardian angel watching over me . . .
. . . a guardian angel head, that is (meet my vintage papier mache mold).
I need help.