If you missed the March edition of Framing Business
News—well, first off, shame on you. It was a crackling good read.
But second, the picture-framing trade publication had quite an interesting
article on what is apparently a hot trend these days: extreme framing.
Not only had we never heard of such a thing, we also had no idea that
Portland is at the forefront of the craze. This is thanks largely to
Rose City resident Dennis Katayama, a man who does not at first glance
appear to be the sort who embraces extremity, and who in fact does not
even laugh when you ask if his line of work involves
bungee jumping.
Extreme frames, opines, the FBN, are “eye-catching,
almost startling…perfect for customers who aren’t afraid
to make a statement.” By way of example, the magazine mentions
Katayama’s work, as well as work by a gallery in Connecticut,
which used a guillotine to frame a photograph of former rocker, Alice
Cooper; in another case, the shop glued a chrome faucet onto a framed
portrait of water droplets.
This past March, when we paid a visit to Katayama
Framing on NW Raleigh St., there was considerable evidence of a thriving
frame business (more than a thousand pieces of art in the front room,
five or so carpenters and artisans constructing frames in the back)—but
not a single guillotine or water faucet. It was then that we learned
that Katayama, 53, owes much of his burgeoning career in extreme framing
to one client: Nike co-president Mark Parker.
“I prefer to call it ‘out-of-the-box’
framing,” said the genial, constitutionally-moderate Katayama
as we walked past a 3.5000-year-old Chinese tomb figure on our way to
a painting that would soon be shipped to Parker’s home (and was,
ironically, in a box). The cover of the large crate remained open; inside
lay a five-by-seven-foot painting by Los Angeles-based artist Todd Schorr:
Into the Valley of Finks and Weirdos.
“Todd is an incredible artist and also a friend,
who has similar life experiences and like interests,” said Parker,
when we asked why he would commission such a, well, unusual work. Both
share a ‘60s childhood and a passion for artist Ed “Big
Daddy” Roth, whose souped-up hot rods and grotesque cartoon characters—like
the bug-eyed rodent, Rat Fink—made him the idol of the era’s
teenaged boys. “The painting has Ed Roth morphed with Bob’s
Big Boy standing beside Rat Fink,” Parker helpfully explained,
“and surrounded by a parade of dozens of Ed’s ‘Finks
and Weird-Ohs’ characters…in a
Southern California-type landscape.”
Before the painting was even finished, Parker was
on the phone to Katayama whose shop is known for its ability to produce
one-offs on a grand scale, not to mention its receptivity to unconventional
requests. (“His collection makes this one look pretty tame, Katayama
laughed.) Still, this new assignment would be a true test of the framer’s
ingenuity.
“I’ve always like the idea of taking
something out of its original context and twisting it a bit to give
it new meaning or relevance,” said Parker. “The style of
the ornate, gilded frames used by some of the Old Masters painters…seemed
like a fitting place to start.”
Accordingly, Katayama acquired a period reproduction
from a firm in Chicago, one with “all the iconography, shells
and grape leaves of your typical Louis XIV frame.” He gave staff
carpenter Dane Wilson the task of cutting into it, extracting some of
the iconography and replacing it with castings of rat finks, open-mouthed
fish, and other figures reproduced in the painting. Then came the laborious
process of gilding the castings, which had to blend seamlessly into
the overall frame. The complicated project took one long month to complete
and cost Parker $10,000, but the Nike executive— whose commitment
to fine design is legendary—was thrilled with the work of Katayama
and his team.
“By carefully blending references from the
painting into the frame and then gilding the entire frame, we create
something that looks very familiar at first glance but then creates
lots of little surprises at closer inspection, “ said Parker.
“And…it looks great!”
Apparently, extremism in the pursuit of subtlety
is no vice.
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