By Fredric Koeppel
Scripps Howard News Service
Craig Wiener keeps 500 to 600 works of art in his house.
And it's not a very big house.
And even he admits that perhaps that's not the best way to keep art safe and secure, but it's a way to live with art every day of his life, to wake up every morning, look around his bedroom, and say, "Wow, what a great piece! I own that!"
Wiener, 43, started collecting folk art, or the work of self-taught artists, about 12 years ago. Raised in Memphis, Tenn., he said his attraction to art is "pretty simple. I always loved art. I couldn't even draw a stick-man, so maybe that's one of the reasons I love it."
Wiener's first exposure to the genre occurred when he went into the House of the Blues in Boston and was overwhelmed by the collection of folk art.
"I was just taken aback," he said. "It was love at first sight. I have strong likes and dislikes, I like Jackson Pollock, I don't like Rothko. But I loved everything. I loved the rawness and the simplicity, the fact that these people were making art for themselves."
It wasn't long before Wiener discovered that self-taught artists like Joe Light and Hawkins Bolden lived in Memphis, "and that's where it took off," he said. "Obviously, the art was very affordable. That's how I got started."
Wiener lives in a modest brick bungalow on a street of similarly modest bungalows.
"I'm single. I bought the house for a song. I just don't see any reason to move. To be honest, the only reason I would ever consider moving is the art, nothing to do with, like, I need a bigger place. I have a living room, a dining room and a kitchen, two bedrooms and a bathroom and a yard for my dog. That's all I need."
Wiener describes the arrangement of art in his house this way: "The walls are engulfed, completely covered. The art is stacked everywhere. People come into the house and can't believe it."
The walls, particularly in the living room, dining room and kitchen and the room he uses as an office, teem with art hung shoulder to shoulder, cheek by jowl, and art is stacked against all the walls. No meals could be eaten on the dining room table because it is heaped with small works of art, papers and folders and a dizzying array of objects and artifacts.
Works that are clearly masterpieces of folk art -- a stunning Purvis Young of men and galloping horses over the sofa in the living room, a large and unusual Joe Light landscape in the kitchen -- are jostled by smaller pieces in a variety of styles and attitudes.
It's a bit calmer and sparer in the bedroom, perhaps as an inducement to sleep.
Wiener's girlfriend, Tara Bullington, called Wiener's house and method "very chaotic. I'm a fan of a very clean, minimal environment myself."
"I would be so excited to organize everything," Bullington said. "I've offered to build some shelves, and he says, 'Oh, we can do that later,' or he just doesn't want to talk about it. He likes everything just the way it is."
The word "obsessive" comes up and Bullington laughed. "Oh yes!" she said.
"It's important to know that my collection has never been built on trying to position myself in the art community," said Wiener. "It's built on one very simple principle: I buy stuff that I like. Each piece is special to me. I've caught a lot of crap from friends that didn't see what I saw in them, but I didn't care."
Wiener's collection includes most of the familiar names in Southern folk art: Light and Bolden and Henry Speller (who also lived in Memphis); Mose Tolliver, Jimmie Lee Sudduth, Howard Finster, Myrtice West.
In fact, Wiener has a difficult time thinking of his 500 or 600 pieces of art as a collection.
"I remember the first time somebody said to me, 'Man, you have a great collection.' I was so naive that I never really looked at it as a collection. I still don't. I mean, I recognize that but I look at it as a bunch of stuff I like."
(Fredric Koeppel of The Commercial Appeal in Memphis, Tenn.)
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