Back atcha

On the first Earth Day -- April 22, 1970 -- few suspected that the idea of “reduce, reuse and recycle” would one day become a Hollywood mantra. Even though it applies more to the working habits of actors and screenwriters, we homeowners pride ourselves on our neatly separated garbage cans and fuel-efficient hybrid motorcars in the driveway.

Now, thanks to artists who believe that one man’s trash can truly be another’s treasure, there are scores of earth-first decorative and functional items for the home.

What could be more appropriate than wiping off your feet on a welcome mat composed of castoffs from the manufacture of rubber flip-flops? What could make your conscience feel cleaner than knowing that the plastic tumbler from which you sip your spring water was made from old detergent bottles?

Even throwaways are having their day. Using discarded plastic food wrappers as a pliable, water-resistant material, Asian artisans create boldly graphic carrier bags (for that trip to the farmers market) that look like Pop Art and woven wastebaskets that resemble neon braided rugs.

As part of ongoing research into eventually building furniture from fallen and trimmed palm fronds, which presently go into landfills, Jonas Hauptman, a faculty member at the Southern California Institute of Architecture, is developing a line of waste-wood chairs. The current model, made from chipped aspen formed into a curvaceous shell that sits on a stainless-steel base, has the sleek lines of an Eames classic and a textural appearance that looks like cork as seen through a magnifying glass.

A new generation is reclaiming found art. Equally influenced by Depression-era “hobo art,” work made by prison inmates and the waste-not-want-not aesthetic of such handcrafted Mexican objects as votives and picture frames fashioned from bottle caps and cans, they turn junk into jewels.

Using scrap metals and machine parts, Eric Schmid welds classical urns and ginger jars that look like Chinese porcelain as imagined by the Surrealist H.R. Giger. For Boris Bally, the raw material is old traffic signs, which he forms into graphically punchy light-reflective trays, coasters and tall-backed chairs (shown on Page 1).

“I’m not that political and granola-y, I’m just trying to make a dent,” says Bally, who is trying to figure out how to bend painted metal into a cylindrical shape.

What will he use it to make? “The ultimate pun for recycling,” he replies. “A garbage can.”