Chris Solomon works for a junk removal company and often finds collectibles in the things people are throwing away. His Toronto apartment, photographed Feb 3 2015, is decorated with some of the bounty that gets turned over when he discovers new items.Fred Lum/The Globe and Mail
In his seven years working junk removal, Chris Solomon has come across more than a few finds worth keeping for himself: a vintage Triumph motorcycle, a set of wooden movie-theatre seats, a 90-year-old sealed bottle of Canadian Club. His space is also something of a gem: a three-storey unit in the Niagara neighbourhood of downtown Toronto, part of a series of heritage properties built between 1871 and 1886 to house the National Casket Co. (It's more commonly known as "the Coffin Factory.") Working as a junk hauler means Solomon has had plenty of time to hone his love of antiques and design, and his access to forgotten attics and neglected storage units allows him to change the configuration and curios in his space daily. He spoke to The Globe about his finds, his home and his design philosophy.
What catches your eye when you're on the job?
Dust. If it's dusty, it's often old; if it's old, it's right up my alley. My favourite removal jobs include old garage lofts, crawl spaces and pretty well anywhere used for storage. Things being stored tend to sit undisturbed for long periods of time, and that's the type of stuff I live for.
What's your favourite find?
That's a tough one. I don't find it too painful parting with stuff to make room for more. I'm always coming across such an abundance of interesting items. A few notable finds: a variety of taxidermy, from bison to salmon to an arctic wolf; original large-format Blade Runner, Tron and Indiana Jones theatre posters; hand-carved duck decoys.
After working a removal job, how do you decide what you want to keep and what goes on to be recycled?
I'm very selective, and I only keep what I like, so a lot of stuff comes through my space but doesn't necessarily become a permanent fixture. I've got a pretty consistent taste that you pick up on as soon as you walk through my front door. My space is open concept, and I don't have much in terms of storage, so keeping, storing and displaying things while not cluttering up the house is a constant struggle.
Lighting is very important to your space. Can you speak to that?
I have two windows over three storeys; you do the math. The majority of my lighting is either antique industrial fixtures or something I've found on the job and repurposed. I make a point to layer my lighting: ambient lighting via the ceiling fixtures, task lighting via the low-hanging pendants over areas like my kitchen table and counter space, and accent lighting.
What's the easiest design trick we can learn from you?
Make sure your sofa is talking to your chairs. I always make a point of arranging my seating so as to invite conversation and create a sense of intimacy. My current setup is a small oak church pew. Immediately adjacent are a set of art deco theatre seats, and a steamer trunk coffee table dividing the space in an H-shape of sorts. And hang at least one mirror in every room.
What's still missing from your place? Anything you want that you haven't found yet?
Right now, I'm missing functional things: I've entirely run out of kitchen storage and need a standalone cupboard of sorts. Something industrial or even primitive would be just right. Other than that … if I found a $36-million Ming Dynasty "chicken cup," I guess I wouldn't be mad.
What makes a house a home?
The people I share it with. Without the sound of my girlfriend's hair dryer blowing, my puppy gnawing on a deer antler and a general buzz of activity, it just wouldn't have the same vibe.
This interview has been edited and condensed.