Although we try not to whinge, you may have divined from my blogs over the course of the last few months that there is a bit of a lag between inventory acquisition and eventual sale. Even in the world of English antiques, our cash conversion cycle is always important, and not merely to impress the bank manager. Our annual summer sale which, mercifully, some of my 20 or so devoted readers have taken advantage of, provides Keith and me with the opportunity to review our stock in trade, and review it critically.
By and large, despite the general, although now thankfully abating, economic malaise, we are fairly close to typical turn days for our inventory, but this has more to do with the first 10 months of last year, which were good for us, than anything that has happened recently. Still, as I mentioned above, we do look at our inventory critically, and assess summer sale prices, if not ruthlessly, than at least aggressively. If you do not find this to be so, my devoted readers, then make me an offer.
Times being the way they are, we have expanded our Summer Sale to include some fairly recent acquisitions. Frankly, though, some of the not so recent acquisitions still surprise me that they haven’t found a home. An example is the pair of George III period salon chairs. A matter of price? Possibly, but based on the amount of interest these chairs have engendered, it can’t be just that. Moreover, with their bold outline, wrythen carving, and large scale, to say nothing of the visual interest contributed by the mixing of gilding techniques, the chairs certainly have presence.
In preparing this blog entry, I took a look back at the pieces we’ve sold in the last couple of years that I particularly enjoyed handling, and it was this notion of presence that many of the pieces shared. Let me give you two examples. A mid Georgian sofa we sold a couple of years ago had presence in spades.
Of a large scale, the piece was in pretty good shape when we acquired it, with the frame in solid, original condition to say nothing of the legs, with their elegantly scrolled feet surmounted by exquisitely wrought low-relief carving in an acanthus motif.
The piece even had its original leather-wheeled castors. The Pindler cotton tone on tone damask we were able to use paired perfectly with the sofa.
Even without the lightening effect of green damask, a Gillows mahogany bookcase from 1820 is about as light in feel as brown furniture can get. With its soaring, 10’ height, it brought a profound presence to our galleries during its brief stay with us, but, with its narrow doors and delicate glazing bars, that presence was never brooding.