Introduction

Perhaps it’s because my house is so clean, but lately I’ve been in the mood for redecorating. For a while I’ve been dissatisfied with the part of the house that lies directly behind the front door… I suppose you call it the vestibule, or the entry hall, or something else that sounds ridiculous when applied to anything less imposing than the Palace of Versailles.


So, in this instalment of The World of the Blandwagon, I give you the Chez Blanders Reception Foyer.





Apparently, according to interior designers, home owners are supposed to make an “entry statement” so that guests will be suitably awed when they cross the threshold. That’s if you do it right. Do it wrong and your guests may instantly decide that you are a pretentious bastard, and spend their evening surreptitiously grinding sundried tomato canapés into your couch cushions out of spite.





People always ask if the phone works, and in fact it does. However it can only be used for answering calls, as the spring has gone in the rotary dial, and if you dial a ‘9’ it takes several minutes to work its way back around. On the other hand, it does have a nice loud old-fashioned ring. It’s also made of quarter-inch thick bakelite and cast iron – you could club a burglar to death with it. Or, indeed, a vindictive guest with a sundried tomato canapé.





I made these cows out of scrap wood left over from an extension to a rental house back in the early 90s. I still think they’re one of my more serendipitous efforts.





There was this bit of wood left over from another project, and some good nails, and a packet of tealights, and it all just sort of came together. Unfortunately when the candles get hot and soft, they tend to fall out. Well, I’m an artist, not an engineer! Excuse me while I hurl my beret to the floor and go cry into my absinthe.





A friend of mine picked up some carved legs from the pews of an old church that was being demolished, and he gave them to me. They are solid jarrah and would also be useful for sundry burglar/canapé-grinding guest bashing.





This is one of a pair of fishing spears from Papua New Guinea. They will be useful for impaling any salmon who are foolhardy enough to ring my doorbell.
























I found this old mirror in a junk shop. It’s possibly Edwardian, and possibly off a dressing table, although it seems far too tall and narrow. Perhaps it was a custom job for someone with a conjoined twin growing out of the top of their head?


Unfortunately after guests make it past the Reception Foyer, they are immediately confronted by my living room furniture, which is old, grimy and splitting where the fabric has rotted. Frankly the only thing holding it all together is the dried bits of canapé. Thus any good impressions my guests had are immediately undone. Oh well.