There are no good lamps.
I don’t have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. That is not the purpose of this newsletter. At this point, I’m not sure what the purpose of this newsletter is, but it’s not that.
Writing this is a small escape for me and I hope that reading it will be something similar for you. It’s been a genuine pleasure to see so many folks subscribe in the last couple of days. Thanks for giving it a shot.
A good lamp should fit on an end table. It should be compatible with a regular lightbulb which can be replaced when it goes out. It should look like a lamp. It should be black or white or chrome-plated. It should have straight lines without weird angles. It should have a base, a stem, and some sort of shade over the bulb which does not have frills or pleats or any other funny business. I am a traditionalist. Sue me.
I am not even particular about switches. A proper lamp could have a pull chain or a knob or a switch on the wire or even one of those little buttons you step on. All I ask is that it be a nice lamp that looks like a lamp and doesn’t try to draw attention to itself. I am the star of this apartment and I do not need to compete with a light fixture.
Perhaps it was when my parents visited and referred to the built-in light above my table as “the barnyard light” that I got the idea that I ought to purchase a proper table lamp. This is easier said than done because there are no good lamps.
I appreciate that it is bold to say there are no good lamps, and I do not take this lightly. After months of looking for a proper lamp, though, I have no other choice. As with most things in life, I set out on this journey with what I thought to be perfectly reasonable standards and I have been disappointed beyond measure.
My search has led me to the belief that there are four kinds of lamps. Any internet search for lamps will prove this to be true.
First, there are the showoff lamps. These lamps come in bright colors and wild, swooping organic shapes. Some of them are elaborately cantilevered and some look like somebody slapped a fabric cone on top of an ancient Grecian urn. Others look like if you asked a child to draw a picture of what a very wealthy person’s lamp might look like. Most are simply offensive.
Then there are the post-lamp lamps, which try to challenge the idea of what a lamp can and should be as if they have been reading too much theory. I reject this. They take the shape of glass orbs protruding at odd angles from golden bars and strange arrays of tiny LED bulbs embedded in weird metallic sculptures.
Not far off are the lamps that wish they were not lamps at all. They take the form of a giraffe statuette or a loaf of bread which has been pressed into service as an illumination device against their own will and everyone’s better judgement.
Finally, there are the gimmick lamps, which have rechargeable batteries, built-in inductive cell phone chargers, and USB ports. Some include speakers of dubious quality. They are trying to do too much.
After months of looking, I found one lamp that met my standards. At $600, it was out of the question. This torment is the burden I must bear for having excellent taste.
In the end, the time change came. I have lived in Michigan for almost my entire life and the time change gets me every year. There are days in the summer when there is still light at ten. That the sun sets in the late fall before I have even finished work for the day is shocking and horrifying. It was amid this shock and horror that I finally bought a lamp.
The merit of the gimmick lamp is that whatever the gimmick is seems to distract the designer from thinking too much about the lamp itself. This prevents wild shapes and colors and avant-garde explorations of other sorts.
The lamp which now sits beside the couch has a round chrome base, a matching stem, and a pleasant white linen shade. It turns on and off with a pull chain and emits a lovely, diffuse light.
On the base is a USB port, which is installed at a very slightly crooked angle as if the manufacturer included it as a personal affront to me. I cannot imagine what kind of person flits through the world plugging their phone into lamps, nor can I imagine the kind of person that buys a lamp on its mobile device charging merits. For my part, I do not know if the port works, and I do not particularly care to find out.
Distractions
Things I have been reading and watching.
Ten Principles for Good Design: Dieter Rams, Cees W. de Jong
The latest acquisition resulting from my coffee table book obsession (despite the fact that I do not own a coffee table or even drink coffee). The book is a look into the work of German industrial designer Dieter Rams (more on him to come). Rams’ quiet design aesthetic set out to confront a world he described as “an impenetrable confusion of forms, colors, and noises.” “Good design,” he says in his tenth principle, “is as little design as possible.” He would not be caught dead with a USB charger lamp.
The Anatomy of Fascism, Robert O. Paxton
And now for something completely different. I read some of this little number shortly before the election. I had read it before in college and my notes in the margins betrayed that it had been a somewhat distracted reading. This time I made it 20 pages in, got scared to death, and kept waking up in a cold sweat for a few nights in a row. Maybe skip this one for the moment, actually.