Living with functional forms. (Editor's Comments).

I confess. I am a catalog shopper. And the more purchases I make, the more catalogs I get, and the pricier the objects in them become. I surround myself with functional forms--the kind of objects you see in catalogs. I go for the total look of the page, especially the planned displays in outdoor living catalogs. A teak table with graceful lines and proportions that are just right for the patio does not make it alone. I need everything showing in the picture that goes With it: chairs, potting bench, chaise, serving cart, grill, umbrella, lights, and cushions. And while we're at it, let's have the serving dishes, glasses, and the croquet set in the background. It all looks so great together. After all, perception and appearance are everything. The ensemble has unity, variety, and an impressive price.

Garden catalogs allow me to dream and imagine during the short days of winter. I garden by the catalog planner's design--looking at the colors and textures in close proximity on the page, trying to imagine how the contrasting plant forms will look in the garden. One variety of tulips is not enough. I need every shade and petal shape on the page. And of course, the symmetry of the arbor, the texture of the stepping stones, and the simplicity of the birdbath will complete the look I'm after, but only if I have the right shape and color of tools to work with--like the ones on the catalog cover.

Now that I've outted myself as a catalog shopper, I might as well share that I can't get enough of kitchen catalogs, especially the ones with recipes. I love to cook with functional forms--insisting that the roast turkey recipe in the catalog will turn out so much better if we have the roasting pan, the ultra-sleek baster, and the deluxe model thermometer that's on the same page. But as hard as I try, my kitchen never looks quite as tidy as those in the catalogs. I figure the catalog folks must just eat out a lot.

Clothing catalogs don't excite me all that much. True, I dress by design--giving special attention to the socks I wear. But clothing is one thing I like to shop for in the ambiance of a well-organized store with friendly sales clerks. I need to feel the fabric, and mix and match the colors. But then I need someone else to say, "That's perfect!"

My favorite catalog of all is the one from the up-scale shop that specializes in hardware and other home product designs from the past. Nevermind that I have nothing to restore or any specific need in mind, I'm always ordering something. Not too long ago I just had to have the orange and blue boxes of Oxydol washing powder. The bold package design, circa 1940s, shouted out to me, "Your laundry room needs a retro look!"

When you are living with functional forms, packaging counts, whether it's the way we package ourselves, or the way we decorate our laundry.

The authors in this issue of SchoolArts present a variety of art problems and lesson ideas for working with clay, fibers, paper, and recycled materials. More importantly, they challenge students to think about designing, creating, and living with functional forms.

Let's Discuss It ... in One Hundred Words or Less!

The purpose of this column is to initiate dialog among our readers, and to help teachers find answers to their questions. We invite you to respond via e-mail directly to the teacher and to cc the editor of SchoolArts at [e-mail]. We'll share the summaries of the responses through this column. And if you have an issue or concern that you would like discussed, just send your letter to the editor, in 100 words or less!