Stepping through Danny Johnson’s front door is like walking into an art gallery, if galleries existed in unpretentious spaces with pastel pink walls and featured wildly divergent artwork.
Johnson pointed to a recent acquisition from Riversea Gallery in Astoria, Oregon. The still life by Hickory Mertsching depicts a slab of red meat, some vegetables, a can of Old Bay seasoning and a cleaver glinting in the background.
“Where else are you going to find a painting with raw meat in it?” he asked.
Johnson started collecting as a teen, haunting thrift stores – picking up whatever captured his imagination.
“I’m not trendy,” Johnson said. “I know what I love.”
What he loves are items of substance.
“Things aren’t made to last a lifetime anymore,” he said. “People don’t have an eye for quality because they follow trends.”
Winter light poured through a stained glass piece he picked up at Value Village for $12. In front of it was a pricier object d’art, discovered at Tossed and Found, a vintage shop on North Monroe.
He’d kept his eye on the carved stone sculpture throughout multiple visits to the store. It appears to be an Inuit piece depicting the transformation of a man to an owl, and when it reached his price range, he snapped it up.
Johnson turned it around to reveal more detail.
“Look at the exquisitely carved talons and wings,” he said.
His guest room features Chris Bovey prints and a 1910s-era framed Barnum and Bailey circus poster with a ferocious tiger.
Nearby, a gilt-framed Goodwill find resembles the work of a 17th century Dutch master.
“Maybe it was department store art,” Johnson said.
His hallway features framed sketches and a collage rendered by kids – things he picked up at thrift stores that he felt worthy of being preserved.
“I’m an opportunist when it comes to buying stuff, rather than a hoarder,” he said. “I like old things people don’t appreciate anymore.”
Things like one of his first Goodwill finds of value – porcelain pitcher with the visage of Dutch maid, her eyebrows eloquently arched. Or his stacks of teacups from Chinese restaurants bearing the moniker of various eateries.
“I look for beautiful things of quality,” he said. “I’m trying to be more selective.”
His travels to Mexico are reflected in Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) masks and statuary.
“I love Mexico and its culture,” he said.
Johnson focuses on originals for his higher-end pieces, but he couldn’t resist a monotype print of Ric Gendron’s “Tears of Rage.”
The grimacing visage of a horned man with smoke billowing from clenched teeth fits with many of Johnson’s other pieces.
“I have a lot of things with horns,” he said.
An original oil on linen painting of the Sunset Bridge by Gordon Wilson, purchased at Marmot Art Space in Kendall Yards, hangs in his bedroom.
“I travel over it (the bridge) every day,” he said.
His art is scattered throughout his home, including a scratchboard depiction of a bear he made in high school and a more recent whimsical tin figure framed by twigs.
“I’m at a place where I like to support artists because I’m an artist,” he said. “One day I’d like to sit down and just make art.”
That doesn’t mean he eschews rummaging through second-hand shops. Recently at the Habitat for Humanity store, he purchased two clay pieces featuring the tiny handprints of infant twins born in 1950. He marvels that precious mementos like these wind up in thrift stores.
Johnson said his eclectic art collection might not wow everyone, and that’s just fine with him.
“People have been told what to like by Pottery Barn or Target,” he said. “It takes thought and courage to buy an original piece of art – you’ve got to go with your gut.”
He gestured at the artwork displayed throughout his living room.
“This is bravery.”
