OUT OF SIGHT
by Leigh-Ann Jackson
MorYork in Highland Park harbors wondrous objects, like a massive concave mirror. (Clare Graham)
Hiding in plain sight on the corner of York Boulevard and Avenue 50 in Highland Park is an unmarked gray-green building with understated art deco flourishes and window treatments blocking indoor views. While neighboring attractions like the Bob Baker Marionette Theater and York Park’s giant rattlesnake slide get all the attention, the plain exterior of 4959 York belies the magic that is MorYork, a jam-packed cabinet of curiosities that is now entering its 40th year.
“We try to not reveal ourselves out there,” the establishment’s owner, Clare Graham, said during a recent walkthrough. “You have to be in the door and see what’s going on here. It’s a world apart.” Often with little fanfare and at seemingly random hours, he’ll prop open the front door, allowing folks to wander in and explore the glorious hodgepodge that he has cultivated with his art director husband, Bob Breen.
A view of MorYork's low-key exterior. (Clare Graham)
For the uninitiated, MorYork is a mini-Metropolitan Museum of Art, carnival funhouse, menagerie, indie gallery, and whimsical warehouse rolled into one. The 7,000-sq.ft. space — previously a Safeway market, roller rink, then jewelry store — is overflowing with artifacts, objets d’art, and curios amassed during Graham’s globetrotting adventures. There is much to gawp at and no two visits are the same, as things are moved around constantly. (Honestly, it pains me to spread the gospel of MorYork because it feels like a personal sanctuary where I can put reality on pause and let wonder wash over me.)
Majestic stuffed waterfowl hang from the building’s original bowed tresses. Below, vitrines filled with religious relics, vintage medical equipment, and animal vertebrae rest atop wood floorboards that were once crisscrossed by roller skate wheels.
Sidestepping through narrow pathways lined with plinths, cabinets, and shelves, you’ll find neoclassical statues, ornamental garb from multiple continents, an array of dismembered doll parts that isn’t nearly as creepy as it sounds, taxidermied creatures such as an African crested porcupine and a three-toed sloth, and a massive U.S. Army concave mirror, reportedly used for nighttime surveillance. All are illuminated by natural light pouring down from various skylights. Nothing feels cluttered or random — everything is in its place.
“This is sort of the inside of my brains, picked out and hung up for others to try to make sense of,” Graham said with a modest shrug. He’s soft-spoken and tends to keep to himself, even as visitors go crazy over his magical world.
His procured items stand alongside his own fantastical creations: discarded silver gum wrappers, old wigs, aluminum can lids, and millions of loose buttons become towering angular structures, amorphous sculptures reminiscent of Ruth Asawa, and functioning pieces of furniture.
A view of MorYork. Clare Graham)
Formerly a Disney theme parks art director and a global marketing and entertainment wiz for Intel and other corporate giants, Graham spent decades perusing international antique shops and bazaars during his off hours. He caught the hunting and gathering bug as a child, roaming the Northwoods of his native Ontario, Canada, in search of trilobites, rocks, and leaves. “When I was eight years old, my grandparents gave me a roll top desk with dozens of little cubby holes,” he recalled. “I was one of five children, so that was the way I could put my stuff in it, and my sisters and younger brother couldn’t mess with it.” Now 76, Graham still cherishes that desk, displaying it a few feet away from his work area in the back.
Graham and Breen bought the building in May 1986, envisioning it as an artist’s studio and storage facility. For the first eight years — before their collectables achieved full sprawl — the couple hosted raves and rock shows, as well as a performance by bygone local divas the Del Rubio Triplets (a camp trio known for their appearances on Pee-Wee’s Playhouse, among other TV programs). These days, you can still catch eclectic acts performing in their long-running monthly concert series, Secret Songs.
In 1995, the couple started showing visual art, namely indie artists “who didn’t have downtown posh galleries to show in.” One of the first was abstract aluminum sculptor Robert Mauthe. They’ve continued supporting the area’s creatives, free of charge, with Graham helping to install the works in their makeshift gallery space. In fact, he conducted much of this interview while balanced on a ladder as he hung emerging artist Noah Malone’s eerie inked faces on canvas for a forthcoming show. (He even abruptly interrupted our chat to make a quick supply run to the nearby hardware store, proving he remains as hands-on and scrappy as ever.)
“At some point, Bob and I will have to stop doing this and turn it over to younger, more energetic people,” Graham sighed once our tour wound down. “It’ll just be organic. That’s how it built up, that’s how it’ll wind down.”
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MorYork is located at 4959 York Blvd. Hours vary; check moryork.com or Instagram for updates.
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