Al Penovi’s Repository           Of  Contemporary Art

By Steve Bigham

Last week, Sotheby’s Auction House in New York sold an autographed urinal (circa 1917) for $1.5 million. This week, The Bee stopped by Al Penovi’s plumbing supply business along Route 34 to get his reaction. If anyone knows the value of a good toilet, it’s Al Penovi.

And Mr Penovi did not seem at all surprised by the high price tag.

“It’s contemporary art,” he said. “You can’t buy that stuff anymore. It’s like an old car; you restore it and all of a sudden it’s worth lots of money.”

Mr Penovi, a local plumber for more than 60 years, has gained a reputation for holding on to old porcelain. The front yard of his Washington Avenue shop is littered with old toilets, sinks, bathtubs and just about any other bathroom appliance. An antiques collector of sorts, Mr Penovi appreciates the value of old stuff, and there is always someone in the market for a part that only he has.

“If you get rid of a lot of the old stuff, then it just ain’t the same,” he said Monday. “When people say it’s junk, I say it isn’t. But what are you going to do when you need it?”

According to Mr Penovi, 83, many of his products are no longer produced and come in handy when homeowners are looking to do repairs.

“If you break a lid, I got a lid. You won’t find a lot of the stuff I’ve got at Home Depot,” he said.

Looking around his shop (a mouse scurries off, fearing the proprietor’s roving eye), Mr Penovi points to items which he considers “contemporary art.” There are the old bathroom stoppers, toilet bowls (you can’t get them in those colors anymore), and various toilet and sink parts. Then there is the old faucet believed to date back to the early part of this century. As Mr Penovi explains, the old faucets put out just the right amount of water flow. “Not too much pressure like the ones today,” he said.

At first glance, as a 1997 Bee article pointed out, the Sandy Hook shop appears to be a roadside purgatory for out-of-date toilets. But those who have frequented the establishment see it as a traditional oasis in a modern world. It is valued not only for its hard-to-find parts, but for the kind words and advice often offered by its owner.

“All the old-time stuff was good. It worked and it was easy to repair – all quality stuff. And it was American made,” he said. “Now Thailand makes it, China makes it, and the United States is out in the cold.”

Al Penovi says he doesn’t sell toilets for the money anymore. No, there’s just not enough money to make it worth his while. He does it to keep busy. Just being around the shop and helping out a few folks from time to time is more than enough. He’ll ask for $10 for a toilet or sink, but that hardly pays the bills. The taxes are tough and he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to stay in business. But this past weekend, 20 members of the Knights of Columbus gave this Newtown landmark a bit of a facelift when they put a new roof on the front of his old barn, added a fresh coat of paint, and re-installed the sign that reads “Plumbing Supplies.”

One of the most popular postcards sold in Newtown is one that depicts the front of Al Penovi’s shop. It reads, “Welcome to Newtown” and it outsells all the rest, according to local store owners.

The urinal, or “fountain,” at Sotheby’s was purchased by a private collector as a “readymade” object introduced by famed artist and Father of Dada, Marcel Duchamp, who signed it “R. Mutt 1917.” “Readymade is defined as a commonplace prefabricated object, which – with or without alteration – is isolated from its functional context and elevated to the status of art by the mere act of an artist’s selection. Duchamp, who introduced the concept in 1915, appropriated the term from its use in the clothing industry (readymade garments were those garments that were purchased off the rack). According to Sotheby’s, “Fountain,” a simple white urinal, seems to have been selected with the intention of provoking a great deal of public attention. It was Duchamp’s most controversial readymade object.

Duchamp purchased the prized artifact from a plumbing supply store in Manhattan, signed it with a false name, then had it submitted for display in the first exhibition of the Society of Independent Artists. Soon, it disappeared and passed through many hands before eventually ending up on the Sotheby’s auction block.