Country Styling

Who says country antiques are out of vogue? As many in the design world know, styles are cyclical. It just so happens we’re currently experiencing a resurgence in the popularity of country antiques, but with a twist of modern design and philosophy.

The mid-20th century gave rise to a new emphasis on the country aesthetic. At a time when urban sprawl was rising and people were leaving their city homes for more suburban areas, so too were they abandoning the formal aesthetic associated with their urban centers. Over the course of a few decades, one can see a dramatic increase in demand and price for these interesting or painted country pieces. Decorating your eighteenth-century saltbox or colonial with the items they were intended to house became all the rage. And then it wasn’t.

Browsing design magazines of the 80s, 90s, and early 2000s, we notice tastes couldn’t have been more varied, from the excessive use of Chintz, floral patterns and pastels, to minimalism and inflatable furniture. While country kitchens and shabby-chic had their day, there wasn’t a true revival of country Americana until just a few years ago. This contemporary/transitional movement, utilizing aspects of modern and country design, was a response to a cultural and social disconnection grown from the prevalence of smartphones and the internet. Individuals became more reliant on technology and less on personal interaction, which, in many instances, reflected in a minimalist design preference. But through this same technology, a new style was idealized, propagated, and sold. Websites like Tumblr, Pinterest, and Etsy as well as blogs like Design-milk and Apartment Therapy and the App Instagram, became sounding boards and DIY inspiration for hundreds of millions of people. Finally, interior design wasn’t simply something you paid somebody else to do. The internet made decorating your living space empowering, personal, and intimate. Increased accessibility to ideas, designs, and the objects themselves led to the effective melding of styles. This new contemporary/transitional concept focuses on core elements of modern and country decorating: clean lines, neutral colors, form, and function; utilizes newer concepts of DIY and repurposing/upcycling. Two close friends of mine, Will and Chelsea Lord, perfectly emulate this design in their home in Maynard, Massachusetts.

Will, a Skinner employee, and his wife Chelsea, both have degrees from the Savannah College of Art and Design; Will in painting and Chelsea in metals and jewels. Both have heavily graphic- and design-oriented backgrounds that contributed to their success in curating their first home. The house is a 1920 colonial that backs up to a accompanying barn foundation, with a leaf-ridden yard, two lively dogs, and a newly installed vegetable garden. Stepping into the home I’m greeted by a central foyer with four archways: three leading to the dining room, kitchen, and living room, and one to the upstairs.

Immediately upon entering I can see clean modern lines, a neutral-based color scheme, and country furnishings, all incorporated into a thoughtful, overarching, contemporary theme. Coupled with the inviting, warm, and engaging feel of the house, the two have created a masterpiece by today’s design standards.

The foyer is a larger room with a cozy corner comprised of a wood-burning stove, Windsor chairs, a candlestand, and an acrylic landscape of a lake, perfect for a cold New England winter night. Stepping into the living room, you see two wing chairs flanking a large steamer trunk acting as a TV console, and comfortable-looking sofa, and a few DIY projects: a barn-board top table, antique rugs converted to pillows, and a mounted arrowhead shadowbox. The walls here are decorated with an abstract landscape, a quail hunting lithograph, and a shore scene.

Next we go into the dining room, centered by a country pine farm table and six Windsor chairs. Here there are a pair of cast iron architectural elements of fruit, bought at a garage sale in Peterborough, New Hampshire and used as wall ornaments above a pair of ladder-back side chairs.

Transitioning to the kitchen, more modern design elements are highlighted. A large, clean space with strong lines and little ornamentation, exhibiting a central island, stainless steel appliances, a gas range, and granite countertops. The only aesthetic indulgences Will and Chelsea added were a few baskets atop their pantry and three shelves of aquamarine glass bottles. These bottles are one of my favorite design elements throughout the house. They’re displayed in a simple manner and are pleasing to the eyes because of their soft and sometimes opaque aquamarine color. This also proves an affordable way to decorate wall space as these bottles typically cost between $1 and $5 each.

The success of the house is not purely attributed to the placement of the objects, but by the objects themselves and the stories they tell.  Will and Chelsea furnish their homes on a budget, purchasing at auction and garage sales, as well as utilizing items found while metal detecting, a hobby of Will’s. They are also notorious DIY-ers, repurposing anything from a blown glass pickle bottle to parts of their wedding centerpieces.

It seems that everything in their house has a story to be told, and that’s just what Will and Chelsea want to do. Instead of fabricating a cookie-cutter, Pottery Barn interior, the Lords have filled their living space with engaging and interactive items, leaving you to wonder their history. They believe that a home should tell a narrative and exhibit an inviting feel, tempting those within it to interact with the pieces making for a more intimate experience. This allows you to feel connected with not only the objects, but the space as well. I couldn’t help but inquire about a few pieces myself, in particular a coat rack repurposed from an organ and the his and hers bed trays fashioned from an old stave-constructed barrel. I found myself enjoying the tour more and more with every story told, precisely as was intended.

Will and Chelsea attribute the success of their house mostly to compromise. While Will’s background is almost purely in the country aesthetic due to his upbringing around antique New England homes, Chelsea finds herself drawn to more modern living. A great example of this compromise is seen in the corner of their living room. The piece is a colorless glass lamp lacking a base, with clean form and no ornamentation. This lamp sits atop a cross-section of a tree used as the base from one of their wedding centerpieces. Trapped between these two is a handful of aged coins found while metal detecting.

Other examples of compromise are the successful placement of Will’s art throughout the house. Every canvas showcased on a wall in the house is a Will Lord original, and is painted in the couple’s attic studio. Even in the most traditional of settings, his pieces are complementary and appropriate.

Decorating your home with a mix of contemporary, modern, and country is not only in vogue, it is also fiscally conscious. Affordability to today’s home buyers is a top consideration. Who needs a Restoration Hardware chair for $500 when you can buy the original for less than half? Why get a console for your TV from a big box store when you can buy a steamer trunk, similar to the one the Lord’s own, for $50? This contemporary decorating style acknowledges inflated retail prices, allowing for more cost-effective and personal decorating to prevail. Visiting auctions for fun pieces to spruce up or repurpose is an enjoyable exercise for those on a budget.

The Cabinetmaker’s Compromise: A Commode and the Changing Aesthetic of French Canada

                    Engraving on early Quebec.

The increased settlement of New France as a fur-trading colony in the late 17th century led to the subsequent development and expansion of the region’s interior. As towns and cities grew, so did their capital, creating a class of wealthy merchants apart from the well-to-do officers and officials. This was most evident in Montreal, as it was the “westernmost point accessible by ocean-going ships” at the convergence of the St. Lawrence and Ottawa rivers, thus controlling the passages to the Great Lakes and the interior fur-trading regions. In Montreal, tertiary sectors of the fur trading economy grew to accommodate new inhabitants, transforming the small town into the economic hub for the French fur trading industry. During this time, population growth in the colony was steady, but in Montreal it appeared more accelerated, ranging from a few hundred in the later part of the 17th century to approximately 7,500 in 1760. With these new inhabitants in all socio-economic classes came a rising demand for domestic industries in providing shelter and furnishings. It was these patrons of woodworkers, carpenters, and cabinetmakers that would dictate the styles of French Canada’s decorative arts, leaving behind beautifully carved and decorated pieces of vernacular furniture.

Top lot of the day, a French Canadian carved chestnut bombe-form commode, sold with buyer’s premium for $77,025.

August 11th, 2012 was a pristine day for an auction in Marlborough, Massachusetts. Skinner, Inc. was holding their annual August Americana sale at their newly acquired Marlborough location. A multitude of stunning pieces of American decorative arts and furnishings were up for sale, including a Dunlap-school chest, a J.W. Fiske butterfly weathervane, a carved Hadley chest, and even a one-room summerhouse. However, none was more exciting than the top grossing lot of the day, a French Canadian butternut bombe commode, hammering at $65,000 (fig. 1). This was a piece that garnered much attention from dealers and collectors alike due to its rare form, old surface, and finely executed carvings. To put it simply, this piece was astonishing.

Pair of Erastus Salisbury Field portraits, sold for $65,175.

Polychrome carved lion carousel figure, sold for almost $18,960.

J.W. Fiske copper butterfly weathervane, sold for $41,475.

This essay will consider the implications of changing aesthetics, fashions, and demographics within a developing French Canada on domestic furniture design. The bombe commode detailed above, considered a masterpiece by Canadian collectors, will be attributed to a school of carvers by examining the stylistic motifs they employed. The significance of this piece as the perfect representation of the transitional period of styles in French Canada and possibly the best example of vernacular furniture produced in Montreal warrants this further research. This analysis will be based on carved Rococo friezes and the artisans’ underlying symbolism, understanding of lines and proportion, and comparable documented examples. While it is unfortunate that construction details cannot be ascertained as the commode had been sold and transported by the time of my employment at Skinner, the aesthetic merits of this piece are strong enough and so unique that the attribution is unmistakable…

In Plain Sight: A Day at the Peabody Essex Museum

Nathaniel Gould bombe chest of drawers, Salem, c. 1770

This past Saturday I awoke to an exciting prospect. I was headed to the Peabody Essex Museum. I had been there only once before, and marveled at their collection. But this time was an instance where I could truly geek out, as I had been anticipating the exhibit “In Plain Sight.” This exhibit was a display of some of the best examples of early American furniture created in the colonies during the second half of the 18th century, all by the maker Nathaniel Gould. Gould and other prolific cabinetmakers in his day contributed greatly to the notoriety of Salem as a center of furniture-making. But one must know the history of Salem itself to understand how it came to hold such a prestigious place in Americana-lover’s hearts.

Salem is situated in Essex County, on the north shore of Massachusetts, just a half hour outside of Boston. Its location made it one of the most accessible ports in New England, fostering fishing, shipbuilding, and maritime trade industries, leading to its development throughout the 17th, 18th, and early 19th centuries. Merchants of Salem participated heavily in the China trade, where large fortunes would be made dealing in tea and spice. Trade with Africa, Russia, Japan, and Australia were also largely profitable. By 1790, Salem had found itself as the six largest city in the country, and the richest per capita.

Through this wealth came a need for great craftsmen. Like many wealthy families and individuals of the 18th and 19th centuries, those living in Salem wished to embellish their lives with attractive objects, objects that scream “Look at me, I can afford these lavish items.” Most of the items we see in museums are a product of this sentiment. It is this attitude that gave rise to Salem cabinetmakers and carvers Nathaniel Gould, William Hook, and Samuel McIntire, three of the most well-known craftsmen of early America.

Attributed to William Hook, Federal dressing table, c. 1820.

I could not have asked for a better way to spend a Saturday than to see an exhibit at the PEM on one of Salem’s premier cabinetmakers, Nathaniel Gould. Although Gould’s work is remarkably scarce, the exhibit displayed a pleasing variety of his offerings. Gould is most notorious for his bombe case pieces. Only a small handful of craftsmen in the country offered such a form. While this form was more common abroad, most notably in continental Europe, it was surprisingly scarce in America. Because of its rarity, these pieces garner much attention at auction, bringing hundreds of thousands to millions of dollars.

By displaying the breadth of his work through his vernacular as well as bombe pieces, the PEM presents a historically accurate and holistic representation of Gould. This was a man who not only created extravagant pieces for wealthy Salem merchants, but more common slant-lid desks, chairs, and straight-front chests to meet the needs of Salem’s everday citizen. And, while the examples of bombe case furniture in the exhibit were spectacular, I found his other forms more intriguing and masterfully executed. The lack of ornamentation applied to Gould’s pieces was refreshing, highlighting his understanding of proportion and form. What little ornamentation there was, the occasional carved shell or pinwheel, accented the natural curves Gould liked to employ.

The Peabody Essex Museum’s exhibit allowed me to understand that the majority of a cabinetmaker’s body of work comprised mostly of simpler pieces. While we over-emphasize the attributes that make these craftsmen sought after in the collecting and museum fields, we must appreciate subtler forms. The majority of a craftsman’s pieces bear little resemblance to their finest examples, conceding a portion of their works to obscurity, while hiding in plain sight.

Sugar and Spice…

A Patent Package Co., Newark, New Jersey, stenciled, round spice box.

Despite the seemingly mundane individual details of this late 19th century spice box, there is an intrigue to this little domestic piece. With eight smaller containers inscribed with their respective contents, this not uncommon item found it’s way onto the cover of our most recent Country Americana catalog!

Spices and the vessels which store them have always held an important role in more than just our kitchens. Since the beginning of recorded time, we can find references to spices and their various uses. In Egypt, exotic herbs and spices were used in the embalming process. China, Korea, and India recorded their use of spices for medicinal and mystical purposes. These uses, coupled with the introduction of spice to Europe, led to the exponential growth of the spice industry.

The increasing globalization and demand for spice gave rise to vast and lucrative empires. With the main production of spice situated in the far East, trade routes, both land and sea, had to be established. European powers, including Portugal, Venice, and the Dutch East India Company, waged campaigns of exploration and war to create these new trade routes which would gain them access to untold fortunes.

Calicut, India as rendered in 1572. Europe used brutal tactics in India and Southeast Asia in efforts to get in on the spice trade. Image is from Georg Braun and Franz Hogenber’s atlas Civitates orbis terrarum.

Despite the vast fleets of ships employed the purchase spices, they were still unattainable to most. The high prices paid for spices were a result of the time and financial investment involved in its acquisition and transport. Because of this, most of those fortunate enough to afford spices were well-off merchants, businessmen, nobility, and high ranking church officials. These individuals and their families often had large, well furnished estates that would occasionally include spice chests. These chests and their contents were grand expressions of wealth up through the early 19th century.

Although spices are readily available in today’s market, the vessels that held them are considered rarities and highly desirable. Early American and Georgian examples exhibit beautifully carved facades, delicate inlay, and great form, all qualities that are sought after to this day. Spice chests from Philadelphia and the surrounding area mimic their life-size counterparts in both form and ornamentation, and garner great interest at auction.

Chester County, Pennsylvania carved tiger maple spice chest, c. 1780, sold for $20,000 at Skinner in 2010.

Philadelphia carved mahogany spice chest, c. 1765, sold for $75,000 at Sotheby’s in 2014.

Chester County, Pennsylvania inlaid walnut spice chest, c. 1740, sold for $26,000 at Pook & Pook in 2011.

Later and more common spice boxes represent a changing 19th and 20th century aesthetic. The emphasis of our cover lot, the Patent Package Co. stenciled spice box, is on function and minimalism. In contemporary society, where flashy and overtly graphic advertisements of last century are giving way austere simplicity and solid design, this group would make a fine and useful addition to any counter-top, personal or professional.

I’m back!

I’M BACK!

So after a not-so-brief hiatus, I think it’s about time that I found my way back to this blog. I loved the few blog posts from my days working at Woodbury Auction, but I feel that I have more opportunity to explore my interests, your interests, anybody’s interests, working at Skinner. That’s right, you heard it here. I jumped ship, from Woodbury, CT up to Boston, MA. The great thing about Skinner is I see much more volume within my own department. Due to the nature of working in the Discovery department, I can handle as many as almost 1,600 objects a month. While there is a time sensitive component to the cataloging process of these objects as we conduct, on average, a sale a month, I can still make time for the pieces that merit further investigation. And it’s these pieces, the objects that grab a hold of you until they’ve finally left our shelves, that keep me coming back for more.

On top of my intimate relationship with the material handled in Discovery, I enjoy the opportunity to explore other departments, ranging from militaria, Americana, books and manuscripts, Asiana, fine art, and more. And it’s not only the material that I have unrestricted access to, but the knowledge. If I ever have a question or even just a slight curiosity on any topic, I can comb the stacks of books that comprise our library or just talk to one of the specialists. Over the course of the last two years, I have come to see these people as much more than faces on Antiques Roadshow. While I unabashedly admit that I was starstruck at first, I came to realize that these people, my colleagues and friends, are great people. With their intriguing stories detailing amazing finds and quirky collectors, coupled with their plethora of knowledge, I could not have found myself in a greater work/play environment.

So, what am I doing back you ask? Well, probably not, seeing as I have three followers and haven’t updated since 2013. But I’ll pose the question for my future following. I’m searching for a new sense of purpose. Just floating by, day to day, doing the same old song and dance is getting repetitive, obviously, and boring! So I’d much rather document and reflect upon my experiences in the art world as I search for new adventures and handle some pretty snazzy items. I’ll break down museum exhibitions I’ve come to fancy, document major collections I find underrepresented, and take tons of photos in the process. Who wants to read a description of a piece. Realistically, y’all have eyes if you’re reading this, so you’re going to want to see these things. And hopefully I’ll be able to put a fun spin on the deets(details because sometimes I can be “hip” too).

In the coming days, I’ll be uploading the little project I had worked on during the fall after falling head-over-heels for a commode Skinner sold back in 2012. This piece is French-Canadian in origin, looks insane at first, but completely represents French-Canadian society after the cessation to the British in the 18th century. I just said a lot of things you don’t care about. But if you look hard at this piece, I’m sure you’ll be able to appreciated at least one aspect of it. I hope you’ll dive right in like I did!

P.S.: Looks like it’s off to the Peabody Essex this weekend for the Gould exhibit. I shall report back!

The Dutchman: A Provenance

Who might this be you ask? This is the picture of a man that plays a large role in building my provenance of the drawing in question. The next portion of my journey began with the inscription “Collect Gigoux.” My search returned a name, one Jean Gigoux, among many things. But this name was the most prominent of the bunch. First stop, his wikipedia article. I know I know, not the most scholarly of sources, but I usually check the references to see if they’re legitimate and use them as my source. The English page on Gigoux was severely lacking, but the French page was a whole different story. It was what I read here that made me believe I was on the right track. Jean Gigoux, a 19^th century French art collector and artist, dealing in lithography and illustration, studied at the Institute of Fine Arts in Besançon Franche-Comté. Over the course of his lifetime, Gigoux collected thousands of artworks, selling the majority at four cataloged sales and bequeathing approximately 3500 works the Museum of Fine Arts and Archaeology of Besançon upon his death. Due to his prominence as a collector, I figured it was time to discover the identities of the two collection stamps bared by my drawing.

Now, let me give a word of caution here. When googling anything that has to do with the two words stamp and collection, no matter how they are phrased, you’re going to find everything you need to on stamp collecting and nothing you need to know on collection stamps. After narrowing down search requirements, I finally came across a website devoted to the Frits Lugt database. This database was created from the works of Frits Lugt, who spent his life collecting Netherlandish works of art. Through his collecting efforts, he was able to compile the definitive repertory on collector’s marks and stamps as well as amassing a sizable collection of auction catalogs from the 17th century through the 20th century. Although in French, Google Chrome was able to translate everything I needed except for the actual search bar. But, after a few tries, I was able to navigate myself to the stamp of Jean Gigoux. And wouldn’t you know it. It was a match!

One collection stamp down, one more to go. This one was a little more difficult, as I had nothing else to go on. All I can say is thank god for the similarities between some French and Spanish words because there were a lot of options when it came to the general search function. I started off my search by initials. A few thousand tiny thumbnails later I had come up with zero matches. Next were the types of marks. I chose the stamp selection, and was given a list of more than 6,000. I quickly hit the back button as I couldn’t fathom how my eyes would feel after scanning every single one of them. I decided to search by the general shape of the stamp, which returned only about 2,000 results. It was night time and I had nothing better to do, so I journeyed on. Once again, I made it through the alphabet with no matches in sight. My eyes were tired and I had just reached the geometric pattern portion of the circular stamp search, something I now commonly refer to as the great CSS of 2013. I must have been on page 40 or 50 when I had just clicked the suivant button, err, next (in French) button when something caught my eye. I quickly went pack to the previous page and there way my second collection stamp. The whole time I had been looking for a stamp at the wrong angle. The one pictured was a 90 degree rotation of the one I had been looking for. I’m surprised even now that my tiring eyes caught such a thing. My drawing now bared the marks of Jean Gigoux and Rudolph Goldschmidt, a prolific collector of European pieces of art, almost exclusively dealing in Dutch works.

I could finally see a provenance building. A rough provenance, but a provenance nonethless. I had two 19th century collection stamps and a consignors name. To get a more solid story of the piece, I’d have to get my hands on a copy of one of the Gigoux sales catalogs. The nearest catalog is 300 miles away at the University of Maryland, or a subscription fee to BrillOnline for access to the Art Sales Catalog Online. Road trip anybody?

The Dutchman: Which Dutchman?

 

Once the backing had been removed, it was time to take out the mat and the drawing itself. As I was still unsure as to the fragility of the piece, I removed it more cautiously than would be expected and laid it on one of our black felt lined tables. My first thought was “Man, this must have had some life.” Initial observations revealed four clues to point me in the right direction for my investigatory work.

1. A collection stamp adorning the reverse of the drawing.

2. A handwritten inscription reading “Govert Flinck/Cleven 1615_ou_16_1660,” also on the back.

3. Another handwritten inscription, “Collect Gigoux,” on the backing

4. A second collection stamp, on the bottom left corner, hidden by the mat.

I figured the best place to start was with the supposed artist. A quick Google search presented me with vast sums of information about the Govert Flinck. Flinck, born in Kleve, a Dutch city at the time, now in northwest Germany, was a portrait artist and history painter. He worked the lines under Rembrandt, becoming one of his favorite pupils emulating his style in portraiture, but had a passion for recreating historic scenes. It was this passion that provided official and diplomatic commissions. Because of this, Flinck’s notoriety as an artist grew, attributing to his great financial success. Flinck’s works have populated the the collections of famous institutions, including the Louvre in Paris, the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and The Hermitage in Saint Petersburg. An interesting tid-bit. Flinck’s Landscape with an Obelisk was among the works of art stolen from the Isabella Gardner Museum in Boston in 1990, along with pieces by Degas, Vermeer, Rembrandt and Manet. Anywho, back to my search.

After scouring LiveAuctioneers for works done by Flinck and other Dutch masters, I had come to the conclusion that this was, indeed, in the style of these figures. I came across many chalk drawings on blue paper with similar subject matter by artists whose names I cannot pronounce. One in particular stood out. It seems to be of a young man, in similar attire to my piece, but from the reverse. It was sold at Sotheby’s in 2005, and in the catalog notes stated this:

“One can easily imagine finding a figure based on this study from life in a painting by one of the Bamboccianti. Little is, however, known of the figure drawing style of most of those artists, so until this figure is actually found in a painting, this highly accomplished study must remain unattributed. The clue to its authorship may perhaps lie in the fact that although the figure type and approach to lighting seem strongly Italianate, there is also a certain stylistic affinity with figure drawings by Rembrandt school artists such as Backer and Flinck.”

My next lead! To search for this figure in others’ works of art. This task may seem daunting, but I’m just too far in stop. I must continue on.

The Dutchman: So It Begins

My interest certainly has been picqued since receiving a dull first impression from this chalk drawing. It was at a local estate pickup that my eyes first glanced at this drawing. Upon first entering the residence, my gut feeling was “Oh, this should be an interesting load.” Walking through the garage and into the basement, I noticed two quite sizable piles of colorful gameboards, trade signs, miniature chests and cabinets and old German toys. As I tip-toed on by, I made mental notes of the objects I really wanted to touch. I’m a very tactile person, and when I see a surface with some character, I get a little excited. What can I say, I’m only human.

As the consignor escorted us through the basement, up the stairs and into the living room, I was greeted with another pile of objects set on a table, next to a magnificent, blue painted stepback cupboard. This is where I would set up shop for the first round of inventorying, where I would have my first encounter with the drawing in question. It was an chalk sketch on blue paper of a man in 17^th century garb, in an unassuming frame, unsigned, and accompanied by stains and foxing. Figuring it as an figure study by an anonymous artist, the inventory description read bluntly, “framed sketch of a pilgrim.” And that’s all it would be, both in my mind and the auction inventory program we employ, until photography began and I got a closer look.

I set the piece on my photography paper, adjusted the lamps for the proper lighting, placed my tripod into position. Snap. I turned the piece around, where an old collection label appeared. Snap. Set it back on the shelf and moved on. A few hours later, when I had finished photography for the consignment, I went to edit the pictures. Upon seeing the photo detailing the collection label, I was able to make out the name “Govert Flinck.” I am a hopelessly inquizative man, and because of this I decided to do a quick search on AskArt to see if Flinck was a listed artist. Well, I definitely was not disappointed in the least. The returned search results told me of a 17^th century Dutch master, painting during the Dutch Golden Age, whose contemporaries include Peter Paul Rubens, Rembrandt and Jacob Backer.

Now that my attention had been thoroughly seized, I needed to know more. So many questions began racing through mind. Initially, authenticity and provenance were my two main concerns, but the prospect of what I would learn on a virtually unknown subject matter to myself was equally enticing. I did what any other curious eight year old would do when faced with this challenge; I took the drawing apart. First, I carefully cut the paper backing off, with the collection sticker still affixed. Next, a few small, rusted brads had to be removed as to take off the board backing. Finally, after 20 minutes of tedious tinkering, the mat, drawing and foundation board were free for my inspection.

What was revealed upon closer inspection weren’t answers, but more questions. To be honest, I was a little giddy. It was the end of the day on a Friday, and this seemed like a fun way to spend the last few moments at the auction house before the festivities of the weekend were to unfold. Then I become presented with this riddle, a riddle I feel compelled to solve, and anxious to dive into. So, these few scribbles and stamps on the backing, mat and blue paper, seem like a good starting point, a sort of gateway to what I am and am about to learn.

A Day in the City: Metropolitan Museum of Art

After the arduous journey through the coat check, our weary selves had finally ventured into the actual Metropolitan Museum of Art. First stop, Temple of Dendur. Lindsay led the way, as this was her turf and she was the boss. The museum had reconstructed “an Egyptian temple that was built by the Roman governor of Egypt, Petronius, around 15 BC and dedicated to Isis, Osiris, as well as two deified sons of a local Nubian chieftain…” Thanks wikipedia, I owe you one. Not only was the temple and gate stunning, but the space it had been constructed in and it’s surroundings, a pair of seated pharoahs and a waiting pool, could not have been more appropriate.

Now, it was off to my neck of the woods, the American Wing. The last time I had visited the Met, it was a year and a week before this expedition. I was in the city for the same reasons, the Winter Antique Show and the newly reopened American Wing at the Met. But, unlike like this trip, I had time constraints and practically ran through the museum, missing an entire floor of my favorite section. This time, myself and a very patient Lindsay would casually stroll through the various rooms and aisles until she would notice me squatted down, inspecting a piece as close as I could without security intervention. This happened on more than a few occasions.

We started in a room dominated by opulence, high style and beautiful craftsmanship, decorated with Newport and Boston furniture. We then stumbled through the American art galleries as they were not the top billed portion of the day, and found ourselves on the top floor, the period rooms; the section I had unintentionally ignored on my last visit. This is where I was confronted with what I considered to be the most beautiful piece of furniture on display. It was one of those moments when you’re taken by surprise and accidentally let out an audible “oh my god.” It was a Portsmouth Queen Anne carved armchair in black paint, attributed to John Gaines III, with dramatic ram’s horn arms, c-scroll and foliate carved crest, and stunning Spanish feet. It’s one of those knock your socks off pieces when seeing it in person. After catching my breath and taking a quick picture, it was off to Lindsay’s area of expertise, from the dawn of time through the Renaissance.

From here on in, Lindsay’s wealth of knowledge allowed for us to engage with the magnificent pieces of marble, bronze and porphyry. The top four things I learned are as follows:

1. Porphyry is beautiful. I want my sarcaphogus to be made out of it. Thanks for the idea Constantine.
2. There are many bibles without their covers thanks to jerk vikings.
3. Romans had difficulty with the structural stability of marble. They just couldn’t keep it up.
4. The ancient world used to be Technicolor. Absolutely blew my mind.

After leaving ancient Greece and Rome, hurried off to the galleries on the second floor. We had a dinner date so we became a bit crunched for time. Wandering through the numerous rooms and hallways, I noticed a good amount of sketches, similar in style and subject matter to one I had recently come upon at the auction house. Thoughts of this piece had dominated the background thought of my mind for the better part of two days now, so it was nice to see other comparable examples. As we continued, I knew exactly where we were heading. And then, there we were. French Impressionism and post-Impressionism, more importantly, Vincent Van Gogh’s Wheat Fields and Cypresses. No matter how many times I see it, chills still run down my spine.

On our way to the exit, Lindsay tugged me in a direction opposite the door. It was back to ancient Egypt with us, where we had started the day. The Temple of Dendur, this time, perfectly silhouetted by the dark winter sky. Quiet. With all the hustle and bustle of the show and the museum, this felt like a fitting, calm end to our day. It had been a tiring day, of seemingly constant time travel between centuries, styles and civilizations. It was time for a drink.

A Day in the City: The Winter Antiques Show

Last Friday I received unanticipated gifts from from two of my colleagues that could not have had better timing. The first, was having the Saturday off from working, and the second, a free ticket to the Winter Antique Show in the city. In five minutes, my day in New York City had been planned. For the last few weeks, Lindsay and I had been planning a trip to the city to visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art. In almost an entire year of dating, and many trips to New York, we had somehow managed ignore one of our favorite museums. But, in the midst of the craziness of preparations for our February 10th auction, Saturday would finally be the day!

Our day started off in my small room, located within a sturdy 18th century Dutch colonial home situated on Main Street in Woodbury, CT. When the sun came peeking through my window, I knew it was finally time to start the day I had longed for. Lindsay and I hopped in Stephen, my beige Hyundai Elantra, and began to head towards Stamford for an antiques teaser at the Harbor View Antique Center. Every time I’m there, I secretly wish this pair of beautiful Egyptian Revival chairs with the most vibrant teal upholstery is still hiding in the booth adjacent to my boss’s. I was a happy camper. They were there. We finished up our circuit of the center and went on our way down to New York.

We arrived at Grand Central Terminal, the day after the 100th anniversary, which they were still cleaning up after. I could imagine the excitement from the celebrations, 5 cent shoe shines, 10 cent french fries and 6 cent loaves of bread in possibly one of  the most traveled and popular transportation hubs in the US. We exited the terminal, only to be slapped in the face by a sub-freezing gust of wind. We decided to forgo walking the twenty something blocks to the armory for the Winter Show, our first stop of the day, and take the subway. After our ten minute trek through New York’s underground and a block’s walk, we had finally found ourselves in front of an eerily quiet Armory building. We stepped inside to find a scene quite the contrary, full of movement, life, glitz and glamour. Upon presenting our tickets, I immediately spotted a familiar face from my childhood, and a fan favorite from Sister Act, Whoopi Goldberg. It seems that no matter the show I attend, chances are good I’ll run into a celebrity. Recent spottings of Catherine Zeta Jones and Martha Stewart have contributed to my two seconds of fame via Facebook status updates on said sightings. That is until somebody posts an awesome picture of their cat.

Onto the actual objects I ventured all this way to see. Lindsay and I decided from the start that the most efficient use of our time would be to serpentine through the aisles. That plan soon came to an end as our eyes and our hearts wandered from booth to booth, fixated on the beautiful rarities each vendor was offering. Naturally, my eye led me towards American furniture and folk art, while Lindsay gravitated towards ancient and Renaissance art. Our paths crossed however when it came to some truly awe-inspiring pieces, Roman marble busts, illuminated manuscripts, early armaments and things out of the ordinary that were just plain fun to see. Personal highlight of the show was dealing with my new, budding interest of mine in Art Nouveau. Macklowe Gallery’s stunning exhibit of Tiffany lamps moved me. I had never seen some of those forms before, and it seemed so right. The craftsmanship involved with not only making the base and shade as two separate components, but creating them as one perfect, flowing piece of art is inspiring. I would highly recommend checking out their website to see some of the best examples of the Art Nouveau style. (http://www.macklowegallery.com/).

What I find interesting about one of the most prestigious antique shows in the country is its ability to bring crowds of all generations, whereas smaller shows tend to generate older crowds. Within the antique community there is a common misconception that there are no young people interested in venturing beyond IKEA’S pre-fabricated merchandise. Just one look around the showroom proved otherwise. People of all ages came together at this show to experience not only modern art but more antiquated forms that have stood the test of time. I also found some younger enthusiasts like myself among  those working the show. It was actually quite refreshing to see! This pleasant surprise could have been due to the accessibility of NYC, the abundance of mid-century modern furniture and art or the quality of the goods in general.

We made our rounds and enjoyed our time ogling the gorgeous objects on display, all the while knowing that these are some of the best wares the world has to offer. Reluctantly, we made our way back into the frozen tundra of New York City, and journeyed towards the Met. It was three o’clock by now. Lindsay and I had anticipated zipping through the museum to give each other speed tours of the wings we each hold most dear. The American wing for me, Greece and Rome for her. We arrived there elated to find  the museum would be open till 9 that night. With sense of triumph, we entered the line for the coat check…