Living in a time capsule

Star Tribune (Minneapolis) (MCT) - Ricky Nelson is crooning "Fools Rush In" on the vintage stereo. There are ashtrays throughout the house, even though nobody smokes. And the atomic star-burst clock above the fireplace keeps perfect time.

In fact, everything in Dr. Matthew and Pamela Mayo's home in Rochester, Minn., would suggest that Eisenhower was still in the White House.

Virtually every stick of furniture, every piece of art and every knickknack is retro, relics from the "Father Knows Best" era. Matthew, a fan of midcentury modern design, has been collecting for about seven years, long enough to acquire a houseful of artifacts that would have made TV patriarch Jim Anderson feel right at home.

Even the drawers in the living-room stereo cabinet hold nostalgic items such as vintage fondue forks and "Danish Tiny Tapers," the pencil-thin candles that decked many a midcentury candelabra.

Visitors who haven't been forewarned are taken aback when they first enter the Mayos' residential time capsule.

"They say, 'You live in a '50s museum.' Or sometimes just 'What the heck?'" said Matthew, a chiropractor who is not related to Rochester's famed medical family.

The Mayos' faithful yet playful re-creation of a '50s dwelling was recently showcased in Atomic Ranch magazine, the bible for fans of ranch houses and Space Age style.

Matthew is especially fond of unusual novelty pieces, like the row of faux book spines that open to reveal a concealed mini-bar. "That's the kind of stuff I look for: James Bond with secret compartments," he said.

The house is as authentically retro as its contents. The Mayos chose it two years ago because it had the space they needed _ and was the perfect backdrop for their collection.

"I was looking for a Frank Lloyd Wright house," Matthew said. "But there are only three in town, and none for sale, and I couldn't afford them, anyway."

Then their current home, a well-preserved 1957 multi-level, appeared on the market. "I saw from the outside everything I needed to see," Matthew said. "What sold me was I looked through the windows and saw blond brick on the fireplace and an original NuTone clock doorbell."

The kitchen had been updated, but the pink-and-gray ceramic-tile bathroom was intact. Many of the light fixtures had been replaced, but the originals were on hand. "We found them in the garage and cleaned them up," Pamela said.

FIRST FIND

It was a Danish modern coffee table that first whetted Matthew's appetite for old-school decor. A friend was getting rid of the teak-frame, marble-topped table and asked Matthew if he wanted it, he recalled.

He liked its clean lines and retro vibe and started boning up on mid-century furniture and design. "Now I could have a doctorate in it," he joked.

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That body of knowledge came in handy when he recently spotted an enameled brass floor lamp in a Rochester consignment shop. The lamp had three adjustable arms, flat blade feet and marble weights wrapped in leather; Matthew immediately recognized it as a coveted "Triennale" lamp designed by Gino Sarfatti, the founder of Arteluce, a renowned Italian lighting company.

"As soon as I walked in, I knew," he said. Similar Sarfatti lamps have fetched thousands of dollars at auction. This one was priced at $99. Matthew snapped it up, then sold it on eBay for $4,500, a fact he relayed to the lamp's former owner when he heard him later inquiring about it at the shop. "We got in an argument. The consignment shop owner wasn't terribly pleased," Matthew noted with a smile.

The lamp was the most valuable piece he's ever owned, and he hated to part with it, but at the time, the windfall was too good to pass up. "I wanted to pay off (Pamela's) car and do some landscaping," he said. They're enjoying their newly revamped back yard with its retro-style patio, vintage Salterini patio furniture and hanging ashtrays from Goodwill. Still, "I wouldn't mind finding one of those lamps again," he said.

Pamela, who owned mostly Mission-style furniture before their marriage three years ago, has become an enthusiastic convert to midcentury style, even donning a vintage dress with an alarmingly large collar and cuffs for a photo shoot. (She bought the plaid mini for a costume party they hosted _ she came as Twiggy; Matthew was Hugh Hefner in vintage PJs and smoking jacket.)

Now she'd never part with their white upholstered living room set with its futuristic sofa and towering Lava Lamp-shaped chair. "That's my queen chair," she said.

And she's hoping to replace their vintage wooden kitchen table with an authentic '50s dinette. "I would like chrome and Formica; something a little more funky," she said.

THE APPEAL

Why would a couple too young to have experienced the '50s want to turn their home into a '50s shrine?

Pamela admires the streamlined midcentury aesthetic. "It's a very different style that speaks to you," she said. "Sort of Hugh Hefner, very classy."

For Matthew, retro pieces evoke "'50s attitude." "It reminds you of a simpler time, when life was slower and there weren't all the high-tech gadgets," he said. "It brings back a hopeful time, when we were looking to the future. ... Plus the furniture is well-made _ better than today."

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But not everyone in the household shares the couple's enthusiasm for decades-old decor. "I don't like it," said Makayla, Pamela's 12-year-old daughter. What look would she prefer? "Like, nowadays stuff," she said. "Everything in here's older than me."

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© 2008, Star Tribune (Minneapolis)