Popping the Top Off a Lid Obsession

Artist and teacher Jeff Wilson never met a lid he didn't automatically flip over -- and file away. (By John Kelly -- The Washington Post)

The two big works of art by Jeff Wilson hanging at Arlington's Ellipse Arts Center already have titles -- "Variation on BLUE and WHITE, With CLEAR" and "Variation on RED, With GREEN" -- but I would like to suggest new names: "Refrigerate After Opening, Parts I and II."

Each assemblage is composed of lids. Dannon yogurt lids, Maxwell House coffee can lids, Shoppers Value vanilla ice cream lids, Kraft nonfat mayonnaise dressing lids -- hundreds and hundreds of multicolored lids of various sizes, wired to five-foot squares of metal fencing.

Hung in front of the gallery's large windows, the creations look like stained glass or satellite images snapped from miles above the Earth.

Who knew lids could be so attractive -- and such an obsession?

Jeff was a child when he was first smitten by the dense colors and interesting designs of the lids. He started collecting them in college after he found it difficult to toss a lid or cap after emptying a can of cake frosting or a bottle of fabric softener.

"They just seemed too valuable to throw them away," said Jeff, 41. "I didn't know why I was saving them."

But save them he did, even though it meant humping bags and boxes of lids every time he moved. Said Jeff: "When I moved into the house I'm in now in Brookland, the friends who moved them were like, 'Why are we moving this?' A lot of people thought I was crazy."

Jeff wasn't quite sure himself why he was hoarding what over time became thousands of lids, from the small caps on soda bottles to the big lids that cover five-gallon buckets of spackle. They did come in handy, though: He's an art teacher at Kenmore Middle School in Arlington, and students who had trouble using a compass to draw a circle could always rummage around in his lid collection, sure to find a disc just the right size to trace.

Then Cynthia Connolly , the Ellipse Art Center's director, found out Jeff collected lids and asked him to be part of "From the Junkyard to the Frontyard," an exhibit of artwork made from recycled materials.

Now Jeff celebrates the lowly lid, an object he says can transport the viewer. A Jergens lotion cap triggers memories of Mom moisturizing her skin. A Jif peanut butter lid calls to mind all those sandwiches packed into lunch bags. Who needs Proust's madeleines when you have the lid from the box they came in?

People know that Jeff has a lid fetish. "There's this network of savers out there who don't like to throw things away," he says. They send their lids to him.

"Every day I come in and there's another envelope or box or baggie of lids."