Author: Michael Chappell

Perhaps some of you know our next door neighbor Kathleen Taylor- The Lotus Collection, one of the best resources for period textiles in our experience. In a larger discussion I had with Kathleen on a matter not germane to this blog, she had indicated that she and I were perhaps too fussy, and that our attempts to micromanage others found to be tiresome and that our own good selves were tired, too. ‘Fussy’ and ‘micromanage’ are universally agreed to be pejorative terms, and behaviors best, for all our sakes to be avoided, yes?

In a word, ‘no.’ The fact of the matter is, in the world of antiques and the fine and decorative arts generally, that we are fussy translates into exquisite attention to detail about the material we sell. Certainly in Kathleen’s case, the fabrics she offers are of the finest quality, all of them in stunning condition. Does this just happen? Of course not. As well as selecting the finest quality fabrics, Kathleen meticulously supervises their cleaning and restoration, making certain that, either as cushions, wall hanging, or furniture covering, her fabrics, as well as beautiful, are fully serviceable. Given how minutely wrought is, for example, an 18th century Spitalfields silk, this is unbelievably taxing work, and requires the ultimate in micromanagment to accomplish.

And, of course, that is why our customers trade with us, whether it is for fabrics, English antiques, or artwork, it is this attention to detail that might otherwise be characterized as fussiness that keeps us in business.

At long last, the notion of green has entered into the forefront of everyone’s consciousness. My own first Earth Day experience was in 1970- it seems like yesterday- wherein a group of us, all in high school, collected roadside trash along a stretch of state highway in Fresno County. I felt good about this, as one did about so many things at age 15, but a seasoned eco-warrior of 17 reminded all of us that we needed to look at the trash we collected for recycling- that it took energy and pollutants to accomplish not just its manufacture but also its reuse. The better objective for all of us was to be Spartan in our habits and avoid consumption of anything that stimulated a persistent use of resources- or, worse, might sooner rather than later through wear or obsolescence end up in a landfill.

What brings all this to mind is reading, for about the hundredth time this week, yet another interview with someone in the design trade discussing how committed they are to green design, when, in fact, they offer up to clients what amounts to little more than inexpensive kack. The prime prerequisite for any of this material is the claim it is composed of elements derived from renewable resources. What astonishes me is how something that is of indifferent quality- in both manufacturing and aesthetics- can be considered green when it will require replacement in only a few years time.  My temptation in the last phrase was to write ‘in a few months time’, and, actually, that’s a better assessment, given how information technology has increased the speed, and consequent obsolescence, of trends in all manner of design. All the more reason, then, if one is truly committed to the environment, to acquire furniture pieces of heirloom quality, those antique pieces that are established, and have been for centuries, in the aesthetic canon and avoid those whose near term legacy will be garage sale detritus, whose destiny, sooner rather than later will be to grace the local recycling station.

How goes the old Wall Street aphorism- bulls and bears get rich, but pigs get slaughtered. Sage, perhaps, but financial sagacity is not my strong suit. Nor that of plenty of other people, particularly in the fine art and antiques trade, with this last year or two cluttered with disbursal sales of former dealers. It’s been an interesting experience, Keith and I chatting with those of long tenure in the trade, discussing how items used to be passed from dealer to dealer, with some kind of mark-up each time it traded hands, until it reached an eventual buyer. The new transparency in the marketplace for art and antiques brought about by information technology is, to my way of thinking, not entirely a bad thing. Mind you, price shopping in the art world is pretty tough, as the price differential between a good object and a similar though superior object is measured exponentially.

But, of course, quality and pricing make for good talking points with clients. I hope my colleagues in the trade agree with me, that discussion about the merits of a piece of furniture or artwork ultimately assist the client to make the right decision and the dealer that assists in that process has established a relationship, and not just accomplished a spot sale. We’ve found generally that sales these days are accompanied by lots of discussion, including plenty of specific questions about our stock, about the trade generally, and the nature of connoisseurship. Although times being the way they are, my venal self would like to jump ahead to closing the sale, but the process of bonding through long discussion has had, for me at least, the beneficial effect of keeping me on my mettle. Discussion, research and explanation assist not just the development of connoisseurship in my clients, but significantly improves my own, and ultimately makes me a better dealer.

It’s reported that Partridge’s former premises on Bond Street, the purpose-built building known since inception as the Palace of the Arts, will be, it appears, for quite a bit longer. Mercifully, the building has been leased to Halcyon Gallery, well established in Bond Street and known for contemporary, albeit not cutting edge, fine art.

Mercifully, I say again, as, given the way most commercial streets in the West End have gone, one presumed that Partridge’s old space would be taken over by a fashion retailer. On hard times, too, and suffering with high, high overheads, the economic blip that sent art and antiques dealers reeling has caught up with the lower end of the luxury goods market, whose internet marketable material makes them eager to shed the actual in favor of the virtual storefront. The gods of art and antiques retailing must be recovering economic hegemony, at long last.

With the first round of fairs completed in Florida and New York, the reports are varied. A few dealers did very well, but a significant sidebar in the news that got published, sadly, was a prominent dealer complaining about trading conditions. Although I would never counsel obfuscation,  times being the way they are, all of us in the trade in English antiques, or any other manner of the fine and decorative arts, should make an effort to put a positive spin on things.

And, frankly, that a body did not do well at a fair, by which I mean make a significant at-show sale- well, any assessment of one’s success conducted any sooner than 6 months following the fair’s conclusion is frankly jumping the gun. No question, fairs are expensive to do, and one would prefer to at least recover one’s costs during its run. If one has no public presence other than at a fair wherein resides one’s only selling opportunity, that’s a different matter, but who anymore does that include? Sans a gallery, every reputable dealer of my acquaintance at least maintains an interactive website and the actual, non-virtual, in-person promotion of one’s gear at a fair might very well have a deferred payoff. Now and for the past year or so, we’ve found the cash conversion cycle frustratingly slow, as buyers find it harder and harder to say yes to purchases. But they are doing so. In fairness, though, this is often cold comfort at the point one is writing the check for stand rental at a fair, where participation, even in the best of times, represents a leap of faith.