Opener / Andrew Tuck
Collection correction
Last Sunday the sky was Mediterranean blue, the air Arctic cold. It was Toronto, after all, a city that’s reluctant to relinquish winter. So I darted into the Gardiner Museum to warm the hands – and, it turns out, the heart.
The museum first opened in 1984 to house the collection of artefacts, pottery and porcelain gathered by George and Helen Gardiner. It closed for a couple of years between 2004 and 2006 to be expanded (architecture firm KPMB doing a great job) and today is beautifully lit and home to a nice restaurant.
But let’s go back to the Gardiners, now both dead. George was a wealthy man, made rich by his stockbroking skills. His wife Helen was from a working-class background and would become one of Ontario’s most valued philanthropists. Perhaps at the start they saw their collecting as a good investment but it became a passion: they bought thousands of museum-quality works. Hence their decision to secure a permanent home for it all.
Other wealthy Canadians were doing the same at the same time. Throughout the museum are pieces donated from other collections, often accompanied by pictures of the former owners sitting smiling among their trophies. As we walked around my colleague, Tom, commented that he didn’t know anyone who collected anything. When I thought about it, neither do I. Sure, we could think of people who have lots of very nice things – but an actual organised, growing collection?
As a kid there wasn’t much that came near me that didn’t get squirrelled away in a tin or an album. There was a stamp collection, coins, postcards. A holiday to the coast would end with the car being stunk out by a bag of seaweed-y seashells (for the nature collection). But as an adult? The urge has vanished. And in a world of Marie Kondo obsessives, any fledgling collecting impulse is going to get trampled. People want less stuff – and as homes shrink and lives become more mobile, it makes sense.
Yet in the Gardiner Museum you see not just objects in cabinets but the delight and determination needed to be a collector. It’s entrancing. And while it’s unlikely that my inner pottery hunter will be unleashed following my visit, you do thank God that they never heard of Ms Kondo.