For Jim Walrod – ‘Decoration is the danger, function is the idea’: The On 1st experiment in conceptual art retailing
** This post is dedicated to the New York design thinker and doer Jim Walrod, who has passed away. Just a couple of weeks ago I mentioned my intention to post about On 1st to Jim over dinner. Of course, he knew about the store but was excited to see what fresh info I might have turned up. I’ll write about Jim when I have collected my thoughts; wherever he is, I am sure Jim will join us all in the necessary proclamation: Fuck Trump**
In conversation this summer, British artist Duggie Fields revealed to me that, during a sojourn in the US in 1968, he had been in line to work at photographer Bert Stern’s “architecturally mind-blowing” art store/publishing house On 1st in Manhattan’s east side.
A return to London – where Fields reconnected with his friend, Pink Floyd’s Syd Barrett, and took up occupancy of the Earl’s Court where he resides to this day – worked against him taking the job at On 1st, which sold fashion and homewares in small editions by contemporary artists including Roy Lichtenstein, Gerald Laing, Billy Apple, James Lee Byars, Sven Lukin and Stern himself (he provided Marilyn Monroe print scarves in an edition of 20 at $30 each).
Even though it was only open for a matter of months at 1159 1st Avenue at 63rd Street, On 1st had quite an impact; interior shots show a space that was more art environment than retail outlet.
In a five-page cover preview in New York magazine art directors Walter Bernard and Milton Glaser made the most of the subject matter, featuring photographs of Lukin’s illuminated sign/installation and models posing with scarves.
“Decoration is the danger, function is the idea,” Stern told journalist Julie Baumgold. “We protect our thing from becoming junky. That’s why we limit it. It’s not going to…Bloomingdales.”
Bill Cunningham, then a reporter yet to make his name as the world’s leading street style photographer, wrote in the Chicago Tribune: “The hole in the “O” serves as what would usually be a display window; here television screens fill the space, occasionally playing the inside action for those too timid to go thru the “n,” and the door of black glass. This opens into a black-painted entrance hall-which in turn leads into the capsule-like gallery. The shop is entirely covered in royal blue carpeting, which runs along the floor, up the walls, and over the ceiling. It is not for the claustrophobic.”
Cunningham’s full report and much more detail on this extraordinary outlet can be found at the Alden Projects site.
Read Todd Alden’s On 1st essay here.