In the 1930s Helen Ede noticed how her husband always “undressed a room in his mind”. By this she meant that Jim Ede believed that most domestic spaces looked better with less stuff. And the stuff that remained needed to be carefully chosen and loved for its form, whether that was a pebble from the beach, a sculptural masterpiece by Brancusi or a lemon of the palest colour (golden lemons would never do). From hours of looking at Vermeer’s golden interiors, Jim Ede had learnt to arrange rooms like a series of still lifes. The only way an object could earn its keep was because it gave pleasure. Otherwise it was just visual noise.
This makes Ede sound like a mid-century Marie Kondo, burbling about